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statusexile · 6 months

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Michelin Star Treatment and My Body's On The Menu

Summary: You work as a naked sushi model in a high-end Japanese restaurant and professionalism was the name of the game. But when Ghost and Konig walked through the door, your composure was put to the test.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader x Konig

Warnings: afab!reader, dub con, exhibitionist, nipple play, fingering, squirting, wakamezake, mask kink, reader goes by she/her pronouns.

Word count: 1,804 words

NSFW. MDNI!

a/n: Nyotaimori (女体盛り) is the Japanese practice of serving sashimi or sushi from the naked body of a woman. This fic probably wouldn’t be 100% accurate to the real-life practice because I’m not Japanese. Nonetheless, feedback and suggestion are always welcome, along with reblogs and likes. Thank you for reading! ❤️

Working as a naked sushi model for a high-end restaurant was never your dream. Your friends and family always find your job as peculiar. They always ask you why would you want to be a human sushi platter for wealthy people. While some people see your job as an art form and others think it’s degrading to women. You didn’t care about their opinions anyway; it kept food on the table and paid your bills and that was all that really mattered to you.

Still feeling a bit groggy from the long shift, you sat down on a bench in the fitting room and began counting your tip money. The day had been long, but the customers were generous, you are pleased with the amount of money you have made today. Even though one group of customers that you got earlier were a bunch of drunk and obnoxious business men. They’re not trying to grope you or anything, but they’re just really rowdy and it hurts your head so bad. Unfortunately, you can’t say anything because you're not allowed to speak while you're on the job.

You get up from the bench and begin tidying your hair and make-up. There’s only one more reservation for the day: a table for two people. Perhaps they’re a couple, you think to yourself. At least it shouldn't be as disastrous as the earlier group, as you walked out from the changing room into the private dining room that was booked by the pair. The interior of the room was opulent. Soft lighting and the sounds of waterfall provided a serene atmosphere, while traditional Japanese motifs of cherry blossom and zen gardens adorned the walls. The restaurant was clearly designed to create a serene and elegant ambience that would enhance the dining experience for the guests.

You took off your kimono, leaving you bare, and climbed onto the dining table, lying down on top of it. The sushi chefs began decorating your body with a variety of sushi and sashimi, placing them on top of leaves that had been sanitized to prevent direct contact with your skin. After that, they covered your nipples and your genital area with flowers. And now all you have to do is wait for the customer to arrive at the restaurant.

It doesnt take very long for the pair to arrive. They’re two tall, muscular men in military attire, and you can see the outlines of their muscles on their clothes. Both of them are wearing masks: one is wearing a skull-printed mask, while the other is wearing a draped style mask.

Your heart skipped a beat when the two men entered the dining room. You’ve always been intrigued by masked men - there's something alluring and mysterious about them. You didn’t know if they were hot or ugly underneath their masks, it doesn’t matter to you, it was the mystery that made you so intrigued and turned on about them.

They sat down on the tatami and ordered sake from the waitress; it didn’t take long for the waitress to come back with their drinks. They began eating immediately, taking some of the sushi that was placed on top of your stomach. The dinner went well so far. You could hear both men talking about their jobs in the military - the one with the skull-printed mask spoke with a deep, husky British accent, while the one with the draped mask spoke with a thick German accent. Soon you learned their names were Ghost and Konig.

They spoke about an upcoming mission, using fancy words, code names, and military slang that you didn't understand. But all you could focus on was their sexy voices - it was as if they were trying to turn you. You couldn't do anything about it - you couldn’t even move your body an inch while you were still with the customer. So, all you could do was stare at the ceiling, trying to not let it bother you.

They were nearly finished with their meals, and you felt a bit disappointed because it means they would leave soon - but you didn't know that the real fun was about to begin.

Suddenly, you felt Konig’s fingers graze your thigh. You were surprised by his sudden action - this felt so wrong that you should have stand up and called the manager at this point - but you were already so turned on at his touch. You could feel a shiver running down your spine.

“So beautiful,” Konig mutters so himself, still grazing his fingers on your thigh, “Shall we have some fun with her, Lieutenant?”

“Your call, Colonel. I’m down if you’re down.” Ghost replied while he stares at you. You could only see his eyes, but you could feel the lust in his stare. It looks like he’s going to devour you whole.

“Alright then,” Konig said as he removed the flower that covered your fold. You’re already so turned on at this point and his action made it even worse.

“Clench your thigh real tight, schatz.” You didn't know why, but you immediately complied with his command, so you clenched your thighs as tight as possible. You could see Konig pouring the sake between them. You could feel the cold liquid grazing your hot skin as you let out a soft mewl from the sensation as it’s slowly running down in between your thighs. He lifts his mask up and starts slurping the sake directly from your crotch, you could feel his soft lips touching your fold. This is so inappropriate, and you could definitely get fired if your supervisor found out that you allowed a customer to do something like this. But your body could only succumb to his action. You’re already way too deep in it anyway and there’s no turning back at point. “So delicious,” Konig said after he finished drinking, wiping his own lips with his hands. “Your turn, Lieutenant.” he added as he passed the sake bottle to Ghost. Ghost did the same thing Konig did earlier. He poured some more sake between your clenched thighs, slurping them, but suddenly after he finished drinking, he opens your legs a bit and give a single lick at your labia. You let out a moan, still trying to keep quiet, but now it’s getting harder. “She’s indeed delicious, Colonel.” he said to Konig in a satisfied tone, “Don’t worry love, we’re gonna make you feel so good” he added. Konig started to remove the flowers that covered your nipples, you could sense the chilly air gently brushing against them.

Konig and Ghost scooch over from their seats, and now their faces facing your breasts. “Open your legs real wide for us, sweetheart. Please, allow us to return the favor for your hospitality this evening.” Konig hums in your ear. Both of them slowly opens your legs, revealing your now dripping cunt that’s been covered with your own liquid and the sake from earlier.

“Shall we enjoy the dessert for the night, Colonel?” “After you, Lieutenant.”

Suddenly, both of them start latching to your nipples, as Konig’s hand starts rubbing your damp cunt with his calloused hand. You let out a loud gasp as you jerk your head back from the sudden sensation. One of Ghost’s hands pinning you down, ensuring you stay still in your place. You tried to wiggle your body, but his hand was so strong, keeping you in your position.

“Be quiet, love. We don't want anyone outside to know we're doing this, do we?” Ghost purred in your ear in between sucking your breast. You could only nod at his words, feeling absolutely lost in the pleasure they’re giving to you. Konig starts to insert two of his fingers inside you and start thrusting them. You bit your lips so hard they’re probably bleeding at this point but you didn’t even pay attention to it as you lost to the overstimulation and pleasure.

“So fucking wet for us” Konig whispered while his mouth is still latching to your breast, now he’s using his thumb to play with your clit and adding another finger inside you. You've already surrendered to them, letting them do whatever they want to you at this point. You could feel your holes stretched thin with his fingers as if he shoved his entire fist inside you because of how thick his fingers are.

Your body shudders as they keep sucking your breasts without mercy and Konig finger-fucking you relentlessly. You’re trying so fucking hard to stay quiet, only letting out soft moans and pants, making everything even more painful than it already is.

“I could feel you’re clenching around my fingers, schatz. Come on, I know you’re so close. I know you can do it.” Konig whispers seductively in your ear. You could feel your brain becoming mush. Your body feels like it's about to explode as you start mumbling nonsense words. You didn't care at this point if anyone outside could hear it, you just want to cum so fucking bad.

It only took a few more thrusts of Konig’s fingers before you cum, your body shakes violently and your vision turns static from the orgasm he gave you. He still thrusting them over and over, milking your orgasm dry. You squirted all over the table, basically drenching the entire surface with your cum.

“Ah, there you go… I know you can do it. Was für ein gutes Mädchen” Konig finally gave one last thrust and pulls out his fingers from your cunt. Both of them give your nipples on last lick after finally letting them go. Your body seems like it can't stop trembling. “So good, so fucking good...” you mumbled softly, your voice is still shaking.

“I guess we have to clean up this mess. We can’t let your supervisor know you’re doing this with customers.” Ghost chuckled as he took a couple of napkins to clean up the mess you made on the table. It takes you around five minutes before you're able to regain your composure.

Both of them stand up from their tatami. Konig pulls out his wallet from his back pocket, takes out some money, and slips it into your hands, giving you a very generous tip.

“Compliment to the chef, the food was delicious.” Ghost said as he opened the door, and both he and Konig went out from the dining room, leaving you alone.

After a few more minutes, finally manage to sit and starts counting the tip that Konig gave you, which basically covers two months’ worth of rent. You can only laugh to yourself, still confused by everything that happened earlier, but you are very satisfied at the same time.

Maybe this is the best job that you could ever have, after all.

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storiesofsvu · 1 month

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Decadent Desires Ch 1

Future Emiy Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol consumption, v minor mention of s16 canon/violence. sexual situations talked about.

“Is everybody around here getting laid except me?”

The words rang through Emily’s head as she stared into her closet, even though she had been the one who said them. It wasn’t like someone else was poking fun at her, bringing up her somewhat embarrassing personal details around the work place for everyone to hear, she’d done it herself. But finally hearing the words out loud had made her brain linger on the fact that it was horrendously true. It was exhausting, she’d thought being back at the office would cure some of it, help with the boredom and be a welcome distraction but now she was witnessing everything in real time. JJ and Will, Tara and Rebecca, Penelope had found a romantic or sexual interest, and in a material witness, nonetheless. She rolled her eyes and turned away from the closet to pick up her wine instead, maybe she wouldn’t even bother going to the gala, it wasn’t like she enjoyed them anyway. Her phone lit up and she welcomed the distraction, swiping open the notification only to find a text from Bailey and she outwardly groaned at his reminder to not be late. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t skip out on tonight, that was part of the responsibility of being the Section Chief; she had to make appearances, shake hands, contribute to small talk to remind everyone that the BAU was an integral piece of the bureau, the politics of the job were the parts she loathed the most.

Downing the rest of her wine she wandered back to the kitchen, picking through the remains of her take out dinner for one. All the while she mourned the days where a bottle of wine would be split between two and take out meant dinner on the couch followed by getting handsy enough to move to the bedroom. Now dinner was consumed while standing in the kitchen, still in work clothes while procrastinating getting ready for bed because that meant doing it all over again sooner than if she stayed up. It was so casual that she’d caught herself getting even lazier, not bothering with plates, eating directly over the stove to save on time and dishes. There was no point in making things fancy and displayed if it was just for her, why not lean into the convenience?

Emily wouldn’t say that she was lonely, because she wasn’t, she was completely content with her friends, her job, being at peace during her alone time. But she would say that she was bored, a little under stimulated, there was a sense of something missing, an itch that she just couldn’t seem to scratch. While her mind drifted to that itch, her eyes wandered over to the clock on the stove, chewing on her lip as she figured out just how much time she had and she decided there was no harm in grabbing a toy to join her in the shower. At the very least it would help her be more relaxed and at ease for a night of ultimate boredom and annoyance around people she definitely didn’t want to spend her Friday night with.

Arriving at the Waldorf Astoria was simple enough, drop the car with the valet and head to the separate entrance to the hall that was hosting the event. No having to deal with concierge, hotel guests or anything else, straight to the point, she could start making the rounds directly after grabbing a drink, which she made a beeline to do.

There were two bars set up on opposite sides of the room, one larger, the smaller tucked away in the corner by the doors to the terrace. Lights were lowered, soft and mellow ambient beats playing through the room to bring the vibe away from one of professional life and lull everyone into the sense that tonight was actually fun. Tables, both regular and high top ones were scattered through the space, people lounging around the shorter ones or standing at the taller ones, captured in conversation ranging from work talk to gossip.

Emily caught eyes with a few people, giving fake smiles, small waves, or a little head tilt depending on how well she knew or liked them. There were a fair number of familiar faces tonight, but she could tell that the crowd was much higher brow than it would have been at an event she was invited to ten years ago. Tonight the room was filled with only the top contenders from the bureau, everyone stuck representing themselves and their departments among a room of benefactors, politicians and the like. She finally found Bailey in the crowd, raising her glass to him from across the room and said the silent thank you that she had now been seen and could start counting down the minutes until she could leave. The next couple of hours she spent circling through the room, slipping into conversations where she could while sipping on cocktails and entertaining herself. She made nice with as many acquaintances as possible, making sure to drop in wherever Bailey was more than a few times to make sure her dues were paid before she finally retreated to the bar, grabbing a refill of her drink and settling into one of the high tops.

Taking a sip of her drink she let out a tired sigh, gaze slowly sweeping through the room, stalling on a group of politicians, watching the interaction while her eyes narrowed. Everything seemed so genuine, so positive and like they were happy to talking to the other person, enthusiasm soothing through the room until one leant in to kiss the other on the cheek in a parting motion and promptly rolled their eyes once their back was turned. She let out a huff of a laugh at that, clearly no one wanted to go to these things. There was no doubt that Senators had their favourites, but the one who stood out the most about being able to fake it and get everyone on her side was Heather Dunbar. Hoping for a distraction, Emily pulled out her phone, sighing at the utter lack of notifications before she dropped it on the table, swiping it open anyways in hopes that maybe she had a missed piece of junk mail. Just as she pinched at the bridge of her nose and let out a groan she could feel someone beside her, a small chuckle leaving their lips.

“Well you look about as thrilled to be here as I feel.” Heather muttered softly, sliding a shot of high end tequila across the table to her.

“You’ve got that right.” Emily replied with a huff, picking up the shot glass, “thanks.” She clinked the glass with Heather’s before shooting the liquor back, not wincing at all. “Wow, that really is the good stuff.”

Heather laughed, “is there even a point in drinking anything less?”

Emily shook her head at the other woman’s antics, “you know, sometimes I wonder how you survived the basic college experience.”

“I had my ways.” She smirked back, pulling another laugh from Emily before switching subjects, “it’s nice to see someone I actually like at these things, I didn’t realize you’d get roped in to tonight.”

“Yeah, well, all things considered,” her eyes narrowed in on Bailey, “I don’t really think I had a choice tonight. Think I’m in a bit of hot water right now.”

“It’ll pass.” Heather murmured over the rim of her glass, “trust me. These brown nosing kids who think they’re special just because they’ve got a badge or an all access pass don’t know shit, they’ll get eaten alive before you even know it.” She nudged at Emily’s shoulder, “you’ve been running that unit for years and I haven’t heard any complaints.” She wavered for a second, “well, except for Senator Reeves but that bitch is dead now so who fucking cares.”

Emily barked out a laugh, “Jesus, tell me how you really feel.”

“I’ll tell you this, if you ever arrest either of my kids, don’t even bother calling me, whatever they’ve done, they deserve the punishment.”

“Seriously?” She laughed again, glancing over to the other woman.

“Well..” Heather paused, mulling over a sip of her drink, “call if it’s the girl, she probably got caught wrong place wrong time but the boy? He’s finally got what’s coming to him. Fucking men…”

“Now that, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Emily replied, taking another sip of her drink as she scanned through the ballroom, frowning when she couldn’t find Heather’s husband, “Rob not here tonight?”

“No.” She replied with an unbothered sigh, “he’s away for work.” She leant in closer to Emily, “but do you see the redhead talking to Sharp?”

“Mmhm.” She nodded over the rim of her glass, eyes raking over the woman’s frame and Heather smirked.

“She’s got one hell of a gorgeous blue lingerie set on underneath that dress that will look absolutely spectacular on my bedroom floor by tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t recognize her.”

“You shouldn’t.” Heather laughed, “she’s a bartender over at Salt Line.”

Emily’s brow furrowed for a moment at the other woman’s words, watching the interaction across the room for a bit. While the girl Heather was talking about clearly looked the part for tonight, there was almost too much of an eagerness coming off her, something that didn’t quite fit the vibe for the event. She was well put together, hair and make up pristine, dress and heels both designer while she sipped on top shelf champagne, but every time she glanced over to Heather she was almost nervous, a flush taking over her cheeks.

“Hey… how do you…manage all that?” Emily asked, her eyes still watching the girl across the room and Heather let out a small laugh.

“Well it’s considerably easier now that the kids are out of the house.” She took a sip of her drink, “and it’s technically not cheating, Rob and I made an official arrangement years ago. Lord knows he goes off and has his own fun too. Separate rooms for sex and sleep and if a guest stays over they stay in the guest room, if we want more privacy, a hotel gets booked.”

“Wait… official arrangement?” Emily’s brow furrowed as she looked over at the brunette who simply nodded.

“I mean, it’s not signed by a third party all things considered. But it is a binding document detailing out the parameters of what we agreed to. Clear communication, be safe, regular testing, keep everything behind closed doors, that the kids don’t get told, how to move forward if something was to become more than sex.”

“You’re losing me.” Emily laughed and Heather grinned.

“I believe there’s more you’d like to ask that would be better suited for the lounge. More privacy.” She glanced over to the redhead and gave the smallest tilt of her head and the girl quickly crossed the room. Emily watched curiously as Heather pinched the girl’s chin briefly before fixing a piece of loose hair, her voice dropping while she spoke, “mommy has to go take care of a few things. I’m calling the car but I want you waiting on your knees until I’m ready for you. Understood?” The girl nodded obediently before her eyes darted over to Emily, lingering while a concerned expression flashed across her face. Heather tsk’d, pinching at her arm, “oh don’t you worry your little head kitten, I’m not going to fuck her, it’s work talk. What did I tell you about being so insecure?”

“Sorry ma’am.”

“Good girl.” Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll be there in an hour or two.” With another nod, the girl was off in the direction of the entrance and Heather turned back to Emily, scooping her drink up off the table. “What?”

“Now that is what I’m talking about.” Emily gestured to the table as she followed Heather out of the room. “Direct and to the point.” She stalled in her steps when Heather stopped at the elevator, “isn’t the lounge on this floor?”

“Yes but my mini bar selection is superior.”

“Why send her home then?” She asked and Heather shrugged.

“Theatrics, toys are all at home, and she’s new, I didn’t want her listening in on this.” The elevator doors slid shut behind them and Heather used a key card to access one of the top floors, delivering them directly into her suite. “She’s waiting at her place, not mine. I don’t let them into my place until they’re fully trusted.”

“Where do you meet them?” Emily asked, letting out a sigh as she dropped into a plush arm chair, accepting a fresh drink from the other woman.

“Anywhere. You just have to know who to look for.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“That’s why I keep more than one girl on the go at once.” Heather laughed.

“There’s gotta be an app for that. Bailey… he was on one.. The Beltway Elite?” Emily found herself absentmindedly twirling her phone in her hand, as if her subconscious was teasing her into downloading it and Heather snorted, plucking her phone from her.

“Oh god sweetheart no. That one’s garbage and going to be full of all your coworkers who will suddenly know exactly what you’re into and looking for.”

Emily shuddered and Heather nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Between the job and life I just don’t know if I have the mental or physical energy to go through the dating stages. I certainly don’t have the time. I just want company probably a couple times a week, the obvious other benefits but without all the crap that comes with it.”

“Oh I know.” Heather smirked, “so make an arrangement.”

“What?”

“Emily come on. You know full well that girl only listened to what I said with no complaints because she’s going home to a condo I bought for her wearing Manolo’s that are way above her price range.”

“I’m sure that’s all she’s getting.” She deadpanned.

“She gets a weekly salary, a bonus if she’s good. You remember I’ve been to your mother’s parties, right? I know you come from money too, and that trust fund has barely been touched, just sitting there accumulating more and more money as the years have gone by. You live a somewhat modest lifestyle for your price bracket and I know it. Not you’ve got something you want, and you’ve got the money to get it.”

“Heather, I can’t just go around with a call girl, I’m a federal agent.”

“It’s not soliciting.” She replied with a laugh, “you meet a pretty girl, you bought her dinner, a nice necklace. In return you get to spend some time with her, your choice if you decide to fuck her brains out or not.” She reached out, handing Emily’s phone back to her, “here, I put in a couple of apps for you to try out, and don’t worry, they’re incredibly discreet.”

“You always use apps?”

“Sometimes. It depends on what kind of situation you’re looking for and what you’re willing to provide. The girl tonight? I’m a regular at her bar and happened to over hear her situation, she’s got massive student debt and was struggling to make a living. I gave her an offer; said I could help out and then read the room.”

“So she’s in it for the money?”

“I mean, most of them are. But for her specifically money is the number one thing she needs from me. It started out as companionship, the occasional plus one for my events, she’s helping tutor the kids when needed, then she got more curious about her sexuality. So you’d need to find someone not like her.”

“Am I really that tightly wound?”

“Sweetheart if you were my type I would have offered to help you out the moment we got up here.”

“Shame I’m not twenty years younger.” Emily teased back, earning a laugh from the other woman. “So you make up all the rules, they go along with it?”

“I draw up the initial contracts, I have one for platonic companionship, and one for sexual. There are girls who I call just so we can go for lunch a few times a month, so there’s someone else in the house when Rob’s out of town and others who are much different. Technically everything is up to them, I lay out what I’m interested in sexually and they’re free to veto anything they want, then I rework it into an official contract for that specific girl to be signed and agreed upon so we’re both very clear on everything.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“You have to when you’re someone like us. In the public eye, with jobs like ours, there’s reputations to uphold, all my girls sign NDA’s too.”

“How do you decide how much you pay them?”

“It can change per girl and salary is negotiable. Again, sometimes they just want you to buy them nice things, take them on a shopping trip once a month. I’ve had some girls who worked out of state, they’d get a lump sum per date instead of a weekly salary. You can start off playing it by ear too, start by buying a nice dinner, spending the night in a nice hotel with room service for breakfast. Next date you take them shopping, once you’ve established that you get along and have the chemistry, work out the fine print.”

“Is it always so high end and about designer brands?”

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head, “some of them just want you to pay for their groceries, put gas in the tank, help with bills or rent. Those ones are usually the better ones, there’s guilt associated with getting things they don’t really need, they just want to spend time with you and help with the necessities. The ones who are full designer all the time are the ones who are doing it to pretend their rich themselves, they’re usually brats.”

“God I do not have the patience for that.” Emily rolled her eyes with a groan and Heather laughed.

“Oh but they can be so fun.” She shot the other woman a wicked grin before glancing at her watch, “speaking of, I should get going.” She stood from her chair, “take the week, look through those apps. I’ll send over some copies of agreements so you can get a better idea of what I’m talking about, I know it can be confusing.”

“You’re just going to give up the names of your sugar babies?” Emily asked with a smirk and Heather laughed again.

“You know me better than that, all names and contact info is already redacted.” She pushed the elevator button, “it was good to see you. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Emily laughed, giving the woman a wave as the elevator doors slid shut again.

With a small sigh she opened her phone, swiping through to discover that the apps were extremely discreet, the icons looking exactly like default ones that came with the phone. Then again, she shouldn’t have been surprised if someone like Heather was using them, she valued her privacy more than anything. Chewing on her lip she stared down at her phone, the two apps staring right back up at her, burning through her brain as she considered opening one, just to see what it was all about.

Her phone suddenly pinged and she nearly jumped, groaning at Bailey’s name staring back up at her, a text about how there was someone she needed to come chat with and he couldn’t find her. She was tempted to reply she’d already left but she needed to go through the ballroom to get back to her car so she sent back a thumbs up and grabbed the top shelf drink Heather had left her before calling the elevator.

Her experiment would have to wait.

_______________

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#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #heather dunbar #decadent desires #emily prentiss series #emily prentiss fanfic

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silverynight · 4 months

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Underworld

<---Previous

Part XV

Izuku is nervous, there are many gods he's never seen before and he's not sure they'll be happy to see someone like him in the Olympus.

Noticing his distress, Aizawa puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles at him. It helps him relax until he notices a lot of them are looking in their direction.

"Trust me, they're just staring at the flower crown upon my head," the god of strategy sighs, like he's tired of it already.

"If you want I can–"

"No, I told you I'd wear it," Aizawa cuts him off. "The crown is pretty; they're just staring because I never wear things like this."

"Did you make them?" A goddess Aizawa introduces as Yaoyorozu approaches Izuku with a mortal girl behind her; the girl looks shy.

"Y-Yes," Izuku nods, realizing that the goddess is smiling at him.

"Great! Can you make one for me and my girlfriend?"

"Sure!" The green haired demigod perks up, feeling a lot better already. The mortal girl's name is Jiro and even though she's shy, Izuku realizes that she's a very good person.

Izuku doesn't notice Aizawa's absence until he's done with both flower crowns, but when he does he's starts getting a little bit concerned at least until a pair of muscled arms lift him from the ground with ease.

"Young Midoriya! I'm glad you decided to attend!"

It's difficult to believe that All Might himself wants him around.

"Thanks for inviting me!" He chuckles, feeling himself relax almost completely.

"I saw that you were making this flower crowns for my guests and I want one too, young man!"

Izuku nods happily and with a little bit of amusement as All Might has to kneel on the ground for Izuku to place a flower crown upon his head.

"You should let him spend time with younger gods," Aizawa comments, startling Izuku a bit when he appears with a glass of wine in his hand.

"Are you calling me old, Shota?" All Might laughs amusedly; it's one of those laughs that sound like thunder, but in a good way. He puts a heavy arm around Aizawa's shoulder while the other god rolls his eyes. "You're right, he should make friends."

Izuku is about to say that he's more than happy to spend time with the two of them, when a god with dark clothes and a shadow following him around approaches him and introduces himself as Tokoyami Fumikage.

Izuku likes him and his shadow too; they're very friendly towards him. Jiro and Yaoyorozu join them a little bit afterwards and finally Izuku has the opportunity to talk to someone who can understand him.

"It was difficult at first," Jiro admits, looking around shyly. "Being the only mortal here is a little bit intimidating, but most of Momo's friends have always made me feel welcome. I think you'll be fine."

Izuku nods and can't help but notice that even though Yaoyorozu is distracted talking with Tokoyami about something else, she takes Jiro's hand in hers and intertwines their fingers together.

"Besides, it's fine because Momo is always here for me," she says, cheeks turning slightly pink at her own words.

"I'm glad you have someone who loves you that much," Izuku mumbles sincerely, feeling happy for her.

"What I'm trying to say is that you don't have to worry; they're good gods," Jiro whispers next to him and then, after a little bit of hesitation, she adds: "Of course, there are exceptions, but you shouldn't think too much about them."

Izuku can't help but worry nonetheless, but gets easily distracted by the sound of a voice he had missed a lot.

"Izuku!"

Despite everything that happened, he turns around with a huge smile on his face as soon as he sees Bakugo.

"Kacchan!"

Izuku is not entirely sure who approached whom, but now they're right in front of each other; Bakugo's initial soft smile disappears in that moment before he looks at the ground.

"I'm truly sorry for what I did to you, Izuku."

It breaks the demigod's heart to see his friend like that; he looks absolutely devastated, like he's in pain.

"You already apologized for–"

"It's not... it wasn't enough," Bakugo cuts him off, shaking his head. "I took you from your Mom... None of you deserved that. And listen, it's okay if you don't want to see me again, I understand; I'll leave if you want me to so you can enjoy the party, but I needed to see you to apologize properly, Izuku."

To Izuku it's been way too long without seeing him; he's missed him a lot and has had time to think about what happened.

He smiles and when he realizes Bakugo can't see him, he cradles the god's face in his hands to make him look up at him.

"I've already forgiven you, Kacchan." He mumbles sincerely before pulling him down because Bakugo is so tall, finally pressing their foreheads together.

"I don't think I deser–"

"Do you want to dance, Kacchan?" Izuku cuts him off before the blond can start feeling terrible about what happened again. The music is already filling the room and the green haired demigod can see everyone dancing around them.

"Yes."

"I'm keeping my eyes on you," Aizawa warns Bakugo, glaring at him and startling both Izuku and the god of the dead in the process.

"I understand," Bakugo nods, looking from him to Izuku. And then, after a couple of seconds he adds, with a smirk: "Is that a flower crown, sensei?"

"None of your business!" Aizawa huffs, prompting Izuku to giggle. "Besides, I told you not to call me that, I'm not your sensei anymore."

"Oh! Do you want a flower crown, Kacchan? I can make you one too!" Izuku says happily, although he isn't sure why Aizawa looks amused out of the sudden.

"I'm not sure it fits my style..." Bakugo stops when he watches Izuku nod.

"Okay, I understand!" He smiles, trying not to look too disappointed.

"I changed my mind," he mumbles after a second. "You can make me as many flower crowns as you want, you little flower nerd!"

Izuku giggles, noticing that his heart feels warm and fuzzy again; it's been a long time since he felt something like that. He had missed that feeling a lot.

He makes a special crown for Bakugo, with orange flowers that look really good on him, considering he's constantly wearing black clothes.

"There!" Izuku takes Bakugo's hand when he's done, pulling him towards the dance floor. "Now let's go!"

Bakugo is blushing, but Izuku doesn't think too much about it, especially after he feels the god's hands on his waist.

"I bet I look ridiculous," Bakugo comments, although he doesn't really look that upset. Izuku notices a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. "I have a reputation! How am I going to look intimidating with flowers on my head?"

"Trust me, Kacchan, you still are intimidating!" Izuku assures him, noticing the frown upon his face. However, he can't stop himself from smiling.

"Then why are you laughing at me, flower nerd?" Bak-Katsuki says, trying to look irritated, but it seems Izuku's smile is contagious.

For some reason, Izuku can't see him as Bakugo anymore, not even in his head. They've been through a couple of things together. He's just... Katsuki now. But it's alright because Katsuki calls him by his first name anyway.

"I'm not laughing!" Izuku chuckles as Katsuki spins him before pulling him closer to his chest.

"You're such a terrible liar, Izuku," but the other god is grinning from ear to ear now. "Well, at least one of us looks good with flowers on their head. But... you have always looked beautiful anyway."

They both slow down and Izuku can't help but blush to the tip of his ears at the compliment. Suddenly, he's more aware of their proximity and his heart is beating incredibly fast now...

"Your flowers are blooming."

Blooming? Izuku blinks a couple of times. Why are the flowers upon his head blooming now? Are they reacting to his emotions?

"What is he doing here? He doesn't belong in here!"

Izuku is not sure if he's entirely grateful by Endeavor's interruption. But Katsuki is definitely not, considering the way he pushes Izuku behind himself while he growls at the other god.

"What do you mean he doesn't belong?" Aizawa bares his teeth at the Sun god, surprising Izuku with his reaction; he usually looks calm and collected, even in stressful situations.

"I invited him," All Might says firmly, almost like he's daring Endeavor to say something else while keeping a hand on Aizawa's shoulder. "He's always belonged here."

"He's not even a–"

"Shut up, old man," Todoroki snaps at his own father. He keeps glaring at Endeavor until his eyes meet Izuku's. However, his expression doesn't soften because he also notices the blond god in front of him. "What are you trying to do to Izuku, Bakugo? Let him go."

Everything turns into chaos right afterwards.

***

Next--->

Patreon

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #shouto todoroki #tddk

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coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic · 1 year

Text

My New Addiction. Pt 1

><><><><><><><><

Yeah so I went very overboard with this and I think I’ll make a part 2 eventually. Def a slow burn mutual pining type thing.

Also lmk if the Spanish is off at all!!

———————————

Octane x Fem!Reader

CW: mutual pining, s l o w burn, swearing,

You did it. You finally did it, you were a Legend! An Apex Legend! You worked your ass off and you made it, you were on the way to meet everyone and get settled into your new home. Yes you were nervous, you’re a fan of almost all the legends and now you were one of them, how could you NOT be nervous? You breathe in and out as the momentum slows and you realize that you’ve arrived. The door gets opened by the driver and you exit, your bags already being taken up to your room.

As you were lead to the main area where everyone was gathered, you heard music and chatter before you got there. Everyone got quiet when you entered and the first one to say something was none other than Mirage.

“Hey hey! There’s the new gal! Welcome to our uni-un- special group! I’m Elliot, also known as Mirage.” He takes a little bow and suddenly another one of him wraps his arm around himself. It was confusing but you laugh nonetheless at his greeting.

Soon Ajay came up and shook your hand, smiling. “Hey now, welcome to da family! I’m Lifeline on da field but you can call me Ajay. What’s ya name?” You smile back, shaking her hand. Thee Lifeline, she’s literally so iconic and you’re just buddies with her suddenly. It was hard to maintain composure. “I’m Y/n! Nice to meet everyone!” You say cheerfully.

Fuse hollers out “and she’s a looker! What a deal!” The typical thing Fuse would say, soon being nudged by his own partner Bloodhound. That earned a chuckle from the one eyed Aussie and a kiss was placed on the masked hunter’s temple in apology. You thought they were flirtatious with each other but didn’t know they were actually together!

You went down the line of greetings until Ajax sighed and looked visibly annoyed. “Now where is that fool? I told him ta show up! SILVA YA BETTA GET YA ASS OVA HERE RIGHT NOW!” She shouted, soon enough you all hear distant mechanical sounds at a hurried pace. “Sorry Che! Sorry! Got a little carried away with the livestream! Did I miss the new guy?” He asked absentmindedly as he entered the room, everyone basically just gestures towards you and he soon looked over himself. “Oh! Hola! Welcome welcome! I’m Octavio! Nice to meet you, chica!” He walked over and greeted you personally, taking off his goggles revealing his eyes to you. He doesn’t reveal his face online or during the matches so you hadn’t seen his face before. What you did see though, was extremely attractive.

The evening started to liven up, as you were shown to your room and got to change. Wraith, who you came to know as Renee, told you about the welcome party they were throwing for you at the bar they go to. It was a special bar exclusively for the legends and higher ups in the industry to keep from getting bombarded with fans, paparazzi and onlookers. It was the best place for them to unwind other than their personal quarters. You nod and decide to change into something a little nicer. A form fitting top, with a loose sweater over it and some jeans. Nothing fancy but it was nicer than your typical outfit.

First thing you see was Elliott, Loba, Octavio and Natalie (Wattson) on the dance floor having a ball. They were tearing it up and once Loba caught sight of you she rushed over and dragged you to join. “Come on beautiful! You’re the guest of honor tonight! Want something to drink?” She asks as she pulls you into the group of friends dancing about.

You nod and tell her to get something strong but fruity and she just winks and says ‘leave it to me’ and waltzed off to the bar. A few songs and drinks in, you were feeling pretty loose, you were sitting in a booth with Ajay, Octavio, Renee, Loba and Elliott. They kind of already inserted themselves as your clique for now until they all get to know you and you basically choose yourself. You couldn’t complain though, you were enjoying every moment of this and as the night went on, the more comfortable you got. Not to mention you got to see Octavio’s full face for most of the night and holy hell he was attractive. You already had a crush on the daredevil but now seeing his face, his smile, his eyes. Your heart melted, you tried extremely hard not to stare at the man, failing and getting caught a few times. The girls were quick yo notice and once Octavio left the table to go to the bathroom, Loba immediately leaned over.

“Someone’s got an eye on the speedster hm?” She grinned, chin on a hand, leaning closer onto the table. Your face flushed red and you attempted to deny it but everyone already knew. Ajay not understanding the attraction but she didn’t judge. He was also basically her brother so it was weird for her to see him in that light in any way.

The rest of the night went great, nothing crazy happened. Just a party and getting to know a few of the legends you’ll be fighting and fighting along side.

About a month or so passes by and it was your first time to be in a duos match with Octane. He knocked on your door early in the morning already hyper. You groggily open the door and see him bouncing a leg while he waited. “What’s up Tavi?” You ask through a yawn, he grinned and handed you a coffee he had just gotten. “Here! It’s got an extra shot in it, gotta make sure you can keep up with me! Don’t want you falling behind, besides we gotta kick ass today and get a win! It’s our first time getting paired up!”

You couldn’t help but smile at him, he was more excited than you thought he would’ve been, not that you thought he was gonna be excited in the first place but it was nice to know he was looking forward to fighting with just the two of you. You had been in trios together and he was as chaotic as you’d imagine. Rushing in. Losing sight of him entirely. Him leading squads to you. All the fun stuff Octane does. One thing though was you’d never actually used his jump pad. You have done your best to avoid that, you didn’t know what it was. You could drop out of the airship fine so it wasn’t the height that bothered you, you weren’t sure as to why you didn’t want to fly off that thing.

“Thanks Tavi, we’ll do great today.” You take a sip of the slightly stronger coffee that was gifted to you with a hum. “Mmm, delicious. Wanna come in? I was just gonna start making some food.” You offer and he shrugs. “Cant turn down a free meal can I?” He walked inside your little place with you and plopped himself onto a chair, leg bouncing as he sat. He really could just never keep still. As you were cooking and making conversation a few other legends come to the door, Octane opening it for you while you had your hands full.

A few familiar voices chime in, saying good morning and good luck. You heard Ramya nudge her way in. “Heyy newbie! How’s it goin? Wanted to see if you wanted to make a bet with me ya?” You had been warned about Ramya’s bets and stakes. You squint your eyes with a grin, brimming with curiosity. “Depends on what the bet is. Shoot.” She chuckled and placed both hands on her hips. “If my team wins, you gotta do something for us for a week. If you win, vise versa. Easy.” You raise your eyebrow and look over at Octavio, he’s smirking. Always up for a challenge. “HahHAH!” He laughs loudly and wraps an arm around you. “WHEN we win, be sure not to be sore losers.”

You sigh in defeat as they leave, now the stakes were higher. You didn’t want to do things for Ramya and Ajay for a week! Let alone knowing that Octavio would literally never let you live it down. You look over at the green haired daredevil as he was eating the simple breakfast you had made. “Tavi, we gotta win now.” He chuckled and looked at you. “If we lose, you owe me a kiss.” You owed him what now? Your face must’ve said the same thing because he smirked. “Good incentive huh?” He teased. You just sipped your coffee with a gaze. “Maybe I don’t wanna win now.” You say softly, kind of hoping he heard but also not. He did though and his eyebrow quirked. He licked his lips, getting a little speck of food off. “Well well, don’t threaten me with a good time, Señorita.” God he was hot. You were no stranger to getting distracted by him during matches, he was always laying down casual flirts to you but you assumed that was towards most people, like how Elliott flirts with everyone.

Wasn’t long til the match began. Octavio was laying it on thick, if you had slipped up or got knocked he would wink and say things like;

“Wow someone really wants that kiss.”

“Come on, Chica. I know you want to kiss me but this is a bit much.”

“Should I kiss you now so you keep up?”

All of it was NOT helping you with this ordeal. Soon enough though you hear the announcement of

3 REMAINING SQUADS.

You take a breath and heal up from the last fight you just finished, looking at Octane with a grin. “Hey we might actually win this thing!” You say excitedly. He nods and snaps a selfie with you. “Maybe you should kiss me if we win. How ‘bout that speedster?” You tease and he laughs a bit. “Like I said before. Don’t threaten me with a good time, hermosa.”

You cocked your head a bit, asking what that meant and he ignored you. As he ran off to find the last couple squads. You roll your eyes and follow in suit. All and all you didn’t win and Ramya and Ajey had, they were cheering and happily teasing you two for just barely losing. If Octane hadn’t rushed in when Ramya was downed he wouldn’t have gotten himself killed. You sighed and made your way back to the ship to return home. Octavio returning soon enough himself.

It was awkwardly silent between you two as the whole group returned, you both walked towards the winning duo, who both has smiles plastered onto their faces. “Don’t worry mates, we don’t have anything planned just yet. Enjoy your freedom for now!” Ramya patted both you and Octavio’s back and pushed you along. You two chuckled and you sighed a bit “I’m so nervous to find out what they have in mind for us.” Octavio shrugged and looked over at you “Eh I wouldn’t stress about it, Cariño. Whatever they come up with won’t be the worst thing.” You look at him, yet another nickname you don’t understand.

You don’t even bother trying to ask because you figured he wouldn’t tell you anyways. You sigh once again and rub the back of your neck. “You ok? Sore or something?” He asks with concern, looking right where you just massaged. “Yeah kind of. My neck is bugging me.” You admit and soon you feel two hands on your shoulder and where the base of your neck is. You let out a breath of relief as you started to feel the knots surface and loosen under his touch. Surprisingly he was really good at massages. You let out soft sounds of pleasure due to the tense muscles finally being worked on. “Oh my gosh Tavi..” you whisper out. What you didn’t see it the pink flush under his mask, the sounds he’s getting out of you was getting to him, his core beginning to heat up and his shorts slowly getting tighter, he felt dirty and a little ashamed his body reacted to something so innocent.

Soon enough he stopped and chuckled a bit “Yeahhh I kind of got magic hands Y’know?” He wiggled his fingers by his face, smirking in a silly way along with it, making you laugh a bit. There was a moment where you both kind of just looked at each other in silence, you catch him glance at your lips and back onto your eyes, you did the same thing. You heart skips a little when you see him leaning towards you, only to be interrupted by Elliott coming literally out of nowhere. “HEY! You guys almost had it! Good game.” He held out two fists for you guys to bump knuckles and you jump from the sudden voice and happily give him what he was lookin’ for. Can’t leave him hangin like that. He smiled and put his hands on his hips. “Well what you guys have planned? Anything fun? Can I come? I’m not doing anything and if you need some company I’d love to join you… I’m really bored.” He admitted his true intentions that he just wants some buddies to hang with and you both chuckle.

“We don’t have anything specific planned, just chillin until we gotta go do something.” You typically had a conference with paparazzi and interviewers after games but today it was scheduled for later so you’d all go get dinner afterwards. Elliott shrugged a bit and the three of you just hung out, Elliott being the metaphorical ‘cock block’ for Octavio. He unintentionally stayed close to you throughout the hangout session before you guys split off from Elliott to head to each of your rooms. Octavio sighed a bit and ran his hand through his hair “Well chica, as sad as it is we must depart from each other to go get fancier than I’d like.” He chuckled a bit before taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles. “See ya!” He winked and ran off towards his room.

Once he was behind his closed door he ran his hands over his face, sighing. A lot was going through his mind, well more than usual. His attraction to you was gonna get him in trouble if he wasn’t careful. He tried to distract himself and actually make himself presentable for this press conference thingie that he hardly enjoyed going to. Only thing he enjoyed was his fans seeing him and interacting with him. At least he would see you dolled up right?

Oh God. He was gonna see you dolled up.

—————————

Next part.↪️

#fanfic #my writing #x reader #x y/n #octane x reader #octane #apex legends #apex #apex octane #apex legends octane #octavio silva #apex octane x reader #apex x reader #slow burn #mutua pining #flirtatious #apex legends x reader #apex octavio silva

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aspergerasparagus · 8 months

Text

Swan Song Ch.1

P encounters a new guests at the Hotel, pity they weren't as welcoming as the others had been...

(PxMale OC fanfic cos. Oh no.)

The rain was already starting to fall again as the puppet made his way back to Hotel Krat. Although he couldn’t feel the chill the rain should bring, it was still unpleasant nonetheless, wet clothes hindered his movements and the cobbled streets of Krat made an excellent slip hazard when they were soaked. He would need to make sure he changed as soon as he got in or risk a lecture from his Father about leaving puddles around the hotel or possibly causing rust or something to the legion arm. Glancing back once more towards the city of Krat to make sure no stragglers had decided to follow him, the puppet pushed open the heavy wooden doors of the hotel. He was greeted by the usual warm and inviting atmosphere as he entered, or what he had been told was the feeling one was meant to experience. Placing his sword down by the entrance he prised the sodden coat from his shoulders, giving it a quick shake, as he had seen others do, before he started to head towards his Father’s office to see if he had any other tasks for him and to change. He had barely made it a few steps before a familiar polite robotic voice called out to him.

“Welcome back good Sir. I’m sure you didn’t encounter too many trials this evening?” Polendina spoke warmly as he turned to face his fellow puppet. Pino merely nodded his head, confirming that tonight had gone without any major inconveniences. Unlike the concierge of the Hotel Krat, who could speak freely and unabated, Pino seemed to lack any voice. Maybe an oversight in his creation or maybe his Father believed he didn’t need to waste time with idle chit chat but the hotel residents had grown accustomed to it.

“That is good to hear, the sooner the frenzy is dealt with the sooner this terrible ordeal will be over with. Oh, also on the subject of good news, we received another guest who was able to make their way to the Hotel. Apparently they had heard that it was a safe place which the puppets wouldn’t be able to breach.” Polendina’s bright tone faltered ever so slightly as he relayed the news, causing Pino to cock his head slightly. Any survivor should be a cause for celebration but it seemed something was on the other puppet’s mind. As if noticing this, Polendina let out a small sigh, his head glancing up to where, Pino presumed, Lady Antonia was staying most likely reminiscing over her portrait, as if he didn’t want her to overhear him.

“The truth is Sir, that the new guest is causing me some… concerns.” Speaking hesitantly, the puppet toyed with its hands as he seemed to try to come up with the right words but to not speak ill of a human. “Outwardly he has been nothing but a gentleman to the other guests who have taken refuge within the Hotel, especially towards Lady Antonia. But I do feel a certain… hostility towards myself and Pulcinella. Of course this is to be expected to some degree given the circumstances, but I feel it might be something to be wary of.” Concern had wandered into the puppet’s voice as he spoke. Taking his words to mind, Pino nodded and saw the concierge relax slightly, seemingly put more at ease. That was until a snide voice called out from behind them.

“I thought puppets were not able to talk bad about humans, but apparently the frenzy even caused those not out killing to lose their manners. How unsightly.” The puppets looked up in unison as a figure stood over them, leering down at them from the floor above. The new guest had been eavesdropping them it seemed and had now found it a good time to introduce himself. Giving them a coy grin he headed their way, the walking stick he carried making a dull thump as it collided with the wooden floors of the hotel. “There is me thinking that a puppet of your status, would know not to talk about guests behind their back, Mr Concierge. That is something a human would do and we are all aware that you are very much not that. Shouldn’t you be above idle gossip and all that?” He spoke with an arrogant tone as he talked down to the puppet, who merely remained impassive not allowing his words to affect him.

As he reached them, Pino could now make out the new guests more clearly. He was a blonde gentleman, with soft curls that cascaded down into a loose ponytail that draped over his shoulder. He wore fine clothes, those fit for someone of a noble bloodline, that had obviously been tailored for him and well taken care of, and in his hand he carried an unusual walking stick. But what drew Pino’s attention the most was the face of the stranger before him, if it was not for the obnoxious grin plastered on it, Pino would have called him handsome. Soft features, delicate eyelashes and piercing gray eyes, he was surely someone who could turn heads, if that was the correct use of the phrase he had learnt from Venigni.

Stopping in front of the puppet himself, Pino found himself being inspected, the guests looking him up and down as if he was some sort of curio on display. Nothing more than an object. He didn’t even react when the man grabbed him by his chin, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at him. It didn’t bother him. Why should it? He was a puppet, just a robot with a purpose who just happened to look more human than the others of his kind.

“Such a pity that a handsome face like this was wasted on a puppet. Still it must make it easier to pretend amongst the real humans that you are one. A wolf in sheep’s clothing I believe is the appropriate saying?” The snide jab merely passed over Pino. The man could say what he wanted, it didn’t matter to him. Humming to himself the man turned on his heel as he headed towards the stairs. “Pretty little puppet, shame there’s nothing much going on upstairs. Really Mr Concierge, you should teach him some words. It’s rude to not speak when spoken to you know.” Stopping on the top of the stairs he glanced back over his shoulder a cruel smile playing on his lips as his eyes narrowed dangerously at Pino. “Have him teach you my name at least okay? I prefer to be addressed as Mr Swan. See if you can do that for me okay my pretty little puppet.”

And with that the man, known as Mr Swan disappeared up the stairs towards the depths of the hotel leaving the two puppets alone.

#my writing #lies of p #pinocchio #lies of p oc

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simiasung-a · 2 years

Text

unprompted. > @falseapostle

He wasn't going to just invade her space without bringing her a thank you gift, so Haruto shows up at Streli's door with a bouquet of flowers, sporting hydrangeas, peach roses, and yellow Peruvian lilies in one hand. A subtle gift of gratitude, not likely to be taken well. And in the other a bottle of high-quality wine and box of cordial cherries. Not likely to make either of them drunk but probably still enough to be more appreciated than the flowers. And if nothing else, the wine could at least help her unwind a little. God knew how tense she must have been after everything that had happened in the past few days.

"Thank you again for this," He said, just as she opened the door. "I appreciate your taking me in for the night."

“ holy crap. ” maybe not the best kind of WELCOME, effectively the worst -- but strelitzia simply wasn’t prepared for FLOWERS and gifts. but she recognizes the smells, the colors and the types, the way they’re bound together. it’s refreshing, it’s colorful, it’s warm. it’s GRATITUDE.

“ you didn’t need to go out of your way to get all that ... ” but she’s grateful in return, nonetheless. she takes the weights away from him, stepping into the penthouse and leaving the door open, so he may enter. “ i’ll have to find a good vase for those. ” getting flowers ... that was rare. gifts, she wasn’t used to those. there’s a uniqueness in it. something holy about it.

“ you can stay AS LONG AS YOU’D LIKE, i don’t mind company. the place is big anyways. ” she cuts the ends of each stem, delicate in her procedure. “ i know stuff’s kind of CHAOTIC right now. i empathize with that. it’s good to have a place where you can sit down during these times. i hope you can find that here. ”

she looks back at him, quiet for a moment. analyzing. she knows that usually, a HOST would try to make the place warmer for a guest, especially one that stays the night. she knows she should be ACCOMODATING, maybe open that bottle he brought. make some food. but ...

“ are you alright ? ”

#falseapostle #𝄢 · 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞. ✦ ( ic. )#𝄢 · 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬 & 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐬. ✦ ( asks. // answered. )#( OJISAN............. such a gentleman )

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artificialqueens · 1 year

Text

🎁 Our Party (Sashea) for Mock-Star - Teri

SECRET QUEEN 2022 by Teri, for @mock-star-aq

a/n: hi Mock! I was your secret creator. I hope you enjoy this little thing. I had fun writing my first Sashea :)

And thanks Veronica for your patience with me, you’re an angel

>>>☆<<<

“Sasha! Welcome.” Vander opened the door, dressed in all black. “And who’s your guest?”

“Hi, I’m Shea. Sasha’s girlfriend,” the other girl introduced herself and reached out her hand. After a slightly awkward handshake Vander let both of them inside.

While Sasha disappeared into the crowd to say her greetings to her friends, Shea looked around. There were roughly fifteen people, most of them dressed as various creatures. Even the house was decorated into more of a scary style than a winter one. It looked like someone trying to celebrate Halloween on Christmas.

Shea started to question her decision to come here, but then she remembered she was doing it for Sasha. She promised her that she will meet her friends and Shea wasn’t someone who gave up easily. She took a shot that was handed to her by a guy dressed as a werewolf and went in the crowd, trying to find her girlfriend.

When she found her, Shea grabbed Sasha’s hand and dragged her to the middle of the living room. Someone pushed the furniture aside and a few people were dancing. “Shea I can’t dance!” Sasha protested, but Shea wasn’t taking no for an answer. Her favourite song was playing and she was set on making Sasha dance with her.

“I’ll show you,” she assured her. Shea placed her hands on Sasha’s hips. “Feel the music baby,” she said as she guided the way. They danced together and Sasha even started smiling after a while. She was well aware of her terrible dancing skills, but with Shea it was fun. Nonetheless she used the first opportunity to get out of Shea’s grip and escape to the safety of the non dancing crowd. Shea laughed as she saw Sasha run, but she went after her anyway.

Now Sasha was talking to someone, who later introduced themselves as Disasterina. Shea stayed for a bit of the conversation, but she eventually made her way to the snacks table, where she stayed for most of the night. She didn’t know what else to do here. Sasha’s friends were… interesting to say the least, but Shea had no idea as to how to start a conversation with them.

“I have been looking for you,” Sasha said, when she later spotted Shea. “For a second I thought you went home,” she joked, but Shea didn’t smile at that. “What’s wrong?”

Shea looked around to see if someone was listening, but everyone was busy gathering around Hoso dancing on a table. “This just isn’t how I imagined our first Christmas together. At a Halloween party.” Shea looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed. She knew this meant a lot to Sasha, but her friends just weren’t for Shea.

“Oh,” Sasha said. She was silent for a moment after that, thinking about what Shea said. “Do you want to go home then? I will make up some excuse."

Shea nodded. Sasha took her hand and led her to the door. On their way out they passed Evah throwing up in a corner. Sasha stopped for a moment to tell Vander, who was cleaning up the mess, something about not feeling well. Vander uderstandingly nodded, smiled and wished Sasha to get well soon. Then they returned back to their cleaning job.

>>>☆<<<

"Is this better?” Sasha asked, sitting down on the couch beside Shea. A Christmas movie was already playing on the TV and Sasha placed two mugs onto the coffee table.

Shea almost immediately laid down her head on Sasha’s lap. “Your friends are cool, but they’re just not the company I’d enjoy. I’m sorry Sasha.”

Sasha’s hand started stroking Shea’s hair. “It’s okay. I only care about you.” Sasha bowed down to gently kiss Shea’s head. “Now please tell me we aren’t watching that shitty comedy you love so much.”

“Not making any promises,” Shea grinned.

“So it is that comedy,” Sasha deadpanned. “I hate you.”

“You love me."

Sasha smiled. "I do.”

a/n: hi Mock! I was your secret creator. I hope you enjoy this little thing. I had fun writing my first Sashea :)

And thanks Veronica for your patience with me, you’re an angel

>>>☆<<<

“Sasha! Welcome.” Vander opened the door, dressed in all black. “And who’s your guest?”

“Hi, I’m Shea. Sasha’s girlfriend,” the other girl introduced herself and reached out her hand. After a slightly awkward handshake Vander let both of them inside.

“I have been looking for you,” Sasha said, when she later spotted Shea. “For a second I thought you went home,” she joked, but Shea didn’t smile at that. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” Sasha said. She was silent for a moment after that, thinking about what Shea said. “Do you want to go home then? I will make up some excuse."

>>>☆<<<

"Is this better?” Sasha asked, sitting down on the couch beside Shea. A Christmas movie was already playing on the TV and Sasha placed two mugs onto the coffee table.

Shea almost immediately laid down her head on Sasha’s lap. “Your friends are cool, but they’re just not the company I’d enjoy. I’m sorry Sasha.”

“Not making any promises,” Shea grinned.

“So it is that comedy,” Sasha deadpanned. “I hate you.”

“You love me."

Sasha smiled. "I do.”

#rpdr fanfiction #dragula fanfiction #sasha velour #shea coulee #sashea #fluff #lesbian au #dragula #secret queen 2022 #aq fandom exchange #for mock star #teri

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omiscurls · 3 years

Note

I love your writing and how much you’re able to bring out the true personalities of each character!! I was wondering if you could do Kaeya, Xiao, Diluc, Zhongli, and Childe celebrating y/n’s bday. (My birthday was a couple of days ago but I didn’t receive any greetings from my genshin team for some reason... 😔)

happy birthday

a/n: SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! as for your problem, have you tried looking in character>voiceover>voicelines? the wishes should appear there, i dont know what happened if they don't

plot: celebrating the reader's birthday

contains: kaeya, diluc, tartaglia, xiao, zhongli

warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, otherwise pure fluff

kaeya

a surprise party

to be completely honest, kaeya barely cares about his own birthday enough to even remember the date

and obviously he does remember yours, how could he not, but- he's just not used to celebrating, you know?

so watch him know very well your birthday is coming up, with a mindset like: "okay, you've got time, you'll figure something great out, it's gonna be amazing"

and the day or two before he realizes, he indeed wants to do something great and amazing, but he completely ran out of time

fortunately, who cares about reservations when your brother's a bar owner, right?

he figures out that if he waits till sunset with the party he still has an entire day he can spend of preparing everything he needs

so as you sleep peacefully, he sneaks out of the room at the break of dawn, ready to work his ass off

he doesn't want you feeling bad, after all, right?

the thing is, you do start to feel a bit bad, as an entire morning goes by, and not only is kaeya nowhere in sight, literally nobody is! you walk through the streets of mondstadt, looking for any familiar face to spend the time with, but the city seems awfully empty of your friends. you end up having fun at diona's cat's tail, her complaining about everyone, and you, surprisingly, joining in, but it still doesn't replace the companion of your friends.

you go over your day as per usual, and decide to bake yourself a cake, since you think that'll cheer you up. you run out of flour, though, so it's necessary to go over to the store and stock up on some. right as you cross the city's main square, you run into diluc.

"oh, sorry, haven't seen you" you say, not even lifting up your face to look at who's chest did you bump on, until he grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"someone looks dejected" he says, and you almost want to punch him for not realizing why. instead of doing that, however pleasing it sounds, you just shrug your shoulders. "come on, you look like you could use a special drink of mine"

and with that, he pulls you towards angel's share, letting you complain about your day, though you don't explicitly say it's your birthday, still mad he didn't remember that on his own.

"so he completely ditched you without a word?" he acts surprised and offended "that's so awful-" he continues, opening the door before you.

just as he opens it, and you hear the word "awful" you see the bar as if for the first time. flowery garlands are up beneath the ceiling, the tables are arranged differently and covered with colorful, pastel table cloths, music is playing. the backdoor is opened and you see the outside of the building decorated in a similar manner, candles and fairy lights spread all over the place.

the sun is slowly setting over the buildings visible through the back door, and the atmosphere inside borders on magical, but to top that all off-

"happy birthday!" you hear a lot of voices shout, and your eyes widen at the sight of all those who you hold dear present. you can't help but smile, seeing all of them cheer, grinning from ear to ear.

"i-" you look over at diluc "how'd you pull this off?"

you swear you saw him crack a soft smile before admitting that he in fact, didn't. you're about to ask who did, then, but you're interrupted by a silvery voice, coming from behind you.

"i did" the voice says, a hand moving to cover your eyes "wanna guess who?" you hear a whisper inches away from your ear, shaking from surprise.

affection swells in your chest as you quietly say "kaeya", your smile growing fondler, knowing that aside from all your friends, he's here too, and as a mastermind, at that.

"hope you don't hold leaving you by yourself for a couple of hours against me" he continues, arms sneaking around your waist, chin rested on your shoulder "d'ya like it?"

emotion gets the better of you, and you don't know what to say, so choose only to nod eagerly.

"a lot" you finally whisper, much to kaeya's satisfaction.

"happy birthday, then" he says, suddenly pulling away from you, as to exclaim loudly "attention everyone!!" he takes a fork to ring on his glass "i hereby declare, that the next round's on me!"

cheers fill the room, along with one "yea right" and another "like we'd believe that" before the owner of the bar speaks up as well.

"as much as i'd like to see that" diluc settles "today's drinks are on the house."

diluc

a magical evening

so he’s a fan of planning

not a diehard fan, but a fan nonetheless

it’s just, he would rather have things planned ahead than wake up a day before and not know what to do (like a kaeya) like an idiot.

so you bet he has already calculated how much time he has left the moment you told him the date of your birthday.

unlike kaeya, he prefers to be working alone, but also likes to keep his plans a surprise. he himself hates surprises, but has to admit, doing one for someone else is quite the fun

he stays quiet about your birthday coming up until the very last moment, and if you want to ask him if he wants to do anything with you that day, he says he already has something in mind, you know, nonchalantly. as if he hadn’t been thinking about it for archons know how long

he’ll wake up before you just to wish you a happy birthday the moment you wake up, and he might be unusually affectionate for a bit, but don’t even bother asking what he has planned out - he won’t tell, not even if you beg.

diluc wanted to kick you out of the house all day. “oh, there’s shopping to be done” “oh, this lady wanted to talk to you”, or “you know, come to think of it, didn’t jean say she had something she’d wanted to show you for your birthday?” every lame excuse in the book, he has used it.

you decide to finally grant him what he so obviously wanted, and leave, choosing to walk all around the city, and even outside the gates, you make it quite a trip, not knowing when to come back.

you smile upon thinking about how secretive he tried to be, but how even he, the mighty descendant of one of the noble families of mondstadt, a man as collected and stoic as can be, couldn’t contain his excitement. you saw all his little side smiles and the way he bit his lip a little after settling today’s rough plans with you, he was so happy, you’re satisfied just by seeing that, sometimes forgetting the real reason for why he was actively plotting something.

you walk and walk, and then walk some more, but your legs start to hurt, and you’re growing hungry, so you decide to finally get back home.

when you approach the winery, you can see the lights in the ballroom are lit up from a mile away. your heart can’t help but flip with excitement, since diluc hates using the room, hates throwing parties, and would much rather just forget it exists.

it’s a beautiful venue though, looks like something out of a fairytale, and you always tell him how much you love it. it’s no surprised he decided to use it, but you can’t wait to see it anyway.

as you get closer to the building, it becomes more and more apparent that the ballroom isn’t the only place that got upgraded to a five star level for one night and one night only. the building looks amazing, and the gates are open all the way, as if there was a party to be thrown and guests to arrive any time soon.

but as you’re welcomed into the mansion, there’s no one else in the hall, other than a dressed up diluc, his hair in a high pony, just how you always said you liked it, wearing a suit you hadn’t seen on him since... well, you don’t even recall.

“well, if it isn’t my honorary guest” he announces with an official tone, almost making you a bit flustered.

“what’s all this? am i not, i don’t know, underdressed?” you giggle nervously, and he approaches you, a tiny little black box in his hand.

“you could wear a potato sack and shine brighter than all the stars together” he says softly, showing you the little box. “and as tradition orders, happy birthday.”

you carefully open the box, a simple, silver necklace resting on the little cushion inside. you take it out, and watch the ornament, but can’t for the life of you figure out what it is.

“you see” diluc provides an explanation “it’s a common thing to do to gift someone jewellery as a gift, and almost as common to have necklaces with your star constellation. that is, the allignment the stars were in the moment you were born. but i decided, that i wanted to give you one with the alignment that shone on the sky on the happiest day of my life. well, according to mona it did.”

you stay silent for a second, astonished with the present, before asking

“and that is?”

“the day we met.”

tartaglia

how to surprise your lover 101

when i tell you this boy knew EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING from the moment he first thought of it

now. he loves celebrating, anything, really, the atmosphere of a party is almost magnetic to him

he grew up thinking every person deserves to have an amazing day once a year, only about themselves, so it’s very obvious to him that he IS doing something, and it needs to be huge

now, in a family as big as his, it was hard to keep things a secret, so he developed a whole plan on how to avoid having you finding out what he was planning

and that is: by having you know

it’s really getting annoying, how everybody keeps walking up to you, for a good week now, and asking if you’re excited for the big party childe’s throwing. the first time you hear it, you almost immediately run to confront him about it, since you explicitly said that a party, a big one, at that, is the last thing you want.

he obviously says that it’s nothing, and you needn’t worry about that. not that you trust his words, obviously, but you let it go, partly because you know how attached he is to the idea of a huge celebration, and partly because arguing with someone as stubborn can really be tiring.

so you settle, and fake a smile for every conversation with the alleged “guests” for your alleged party, thinking you’ll just suffer through it and then just do something with your childe the next day, having yourself plan it.

the wait is stressful, and when you finally see tartaglia walk through your bedroom door, dressed up really nicely, with a soft ribbon to tie on your eyes, so you wouldn’t see anything before it’s “time”, you almost want to ditch him, but that would be too rude.

complying begrudgingly, you let him guide you through the city, feeling the cold evening air hit your skin, wondering where did he set up this party of his, since you don’t hear anything.

oh god, is everyone gonna jump out of hiding yelling “happy birthday”? please, not that, at least not that.

when he finally unties the material covering your eyes, you see nothing but a wooden platform at the end of the harbor, with a blanket set up, some really nice-smelling food and what appears to be champagne laying on it. the sun is setting slowly behind the mountains in the distance, the only sound you hear being waves crushing on the rocks.

you can’t help but gasp.

“but” you turn around to face childe with a questioning look “what about the party?”

“what party?” he looks surprised “i never said anything about any party” he adds with a knowing smirk.

as you analyze your surroundings, he watches you with a soft smile.

“come on, don’t be so shocked now” he finally says “i know you better than to plan you something you’d hate. i’m not THAT much of an asshole”

his giggle sounds almost too good in the beautiful scenery around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes water for a little while, before rapidly blinking the tears back.

“is this more similar to what you’ve dreamed of?” he asks.

“yeah” you whisper “yes, it is”

“well, that’s the only thing that matters. shall we?” his hand points to the blanket, and you nod, smiling.

this may or may not be inspired by that one episode of Brooklyn 9-9

xiao

trying something new

birthdays? what’s that

you mean to tell him he has lived two thousand years of his life without realizing the day it was brought to him should be celebrated?

yup, no, you can explain it all you want, he still doesn’t get the idea. he just finds it to be way too trivial, okay?

what gets to him, though, is that there’s a custom of doing something meaningful for the person celebrating their birthday, to make them feel important

well, you should’ve led with that, that he can do!

he would never just go and straight up ask for help if he needed any. so don’t be surprised if you hear yet more new stories about the yaksha that allegedly lives near wangshu inn sneaking into the kitchen, or watching through the glass.

he spends HOURS waiting for the chef to finally prepare the dish he hopes for, and once he does, he follows every step very carefully. and then again. and again. and one more time, up until he feels he can do it himself.

when he finally gets to enter said kitchen, it’s already way past midnight, and everything is dark, barely visible. he manages to find his way around, though, preparing all the ingredients, and starting to mix them the same way the chef did.

turns out it’s not as easy as it looks, for example, he didn’t measure how long this thing is supposed to be cooked, or on what temperature, so the process gets a little messy at one point. he might even have to start over. like, twice, tops.

it’s already nearing dusk when he finishes, taking the fruit of his works with him.

as per usual, you wait for him on the roof, and as per usual you don’t realize he’s right behind you until he speaks up.

“happy birthday” he says out of the blue, causing you to jump up in shock.

“oh my, xiao, you scared me! again!” you laugh.

“it’s today, isn’t it?” he continues, as if he didn’t hear you. when he sees you nod, he awkwardly shows you the package he held behind his back, watching closely as you open it with a questioning look.

inside, there’s a carefully wrapped serving of almond tofu, it could use a little bit of touch ups, but it still looks and smells delicious nonetheless.

“did you do this yourself?” you turn around to face him, smiling in disbelief

“mhm” he gets a little flustered, and decides not to tell you about his little kitchen adventure. “is it… is it good?” he asks, and you smile even more fondly.

“why don’t you come over here and taste it with me?”

zhongli

one can never go wrong with a classic

zhongli knows every single tradition there is to know.

literally.

so you don’t have to even tell him anything - he knows. he might not know what to do with his knowledge, but he does know what would make you happy

this man is a gentleman who believes that some moves to make someone swoon never get old

he even got a free day from work just for the occasion, or he may just think he told hu tao that he wants it? either way, he’s not there. not like his boss isn’t used to it.

right as the clock strikes 5 pm, you hear a knocking on your door. checking how you look one last time, you smile to the reflection in the mirror, and walk over to answer.

as you open said door, you find yourself dumbfounded at the sight of a completely soaked zhongli, rain pouring heavily behind his back. his hair sticks to his face, and all the layers of his suit seem drenched to their very core, but a smile you see so rarely paints his face, as he presents you with a bouquet of flowers.

and my oh my, just how huge is it! he barely even manages to hold it in hand, and the flower crowns hide his entire chest and half his face when he places them in front of you.

“i believe this is for you” he says gently “are you ready to go?”

you can’t even find the right words, as you size the bouquet up, taking it from him with a quiet “thank you so much” before taking it back to the house, already in search of the right vase to put them in.

“may i come in and dry myself up a bit?” he asks, still from the doorstep, and you laugh before granting him the permission.

when the both of you are ready to go, you meet in the hallway, both smiling softly at the other, a bit awkwardly, as the beginning of every meeting is.

“you look even better than usually” he finally says, pride rising in his chest at how your grin widens.

“same goes for you, mr zhongli” you answer just as cheekily, waiting for what he’s gonna say next.

“well, thank you, but i don’t think today’s about me now, is it?” he counters with a bit of a side eye. “shall we go?” he points to the open door, and the both of you leave, you grabbing his arm to fit under one umbrella.

“may i ask where’re we going?”

you can’t miss the way his smile turns prideful and confident as he says:

“i” he accentuates “am taking you out to dinner”

he might feel a bit offended by how sarcastically you gasp at the revelation, but it’s okay. as long as he gets to see you laugh, it’s okay.

daily reminder that requests are open [here]

#zhongli #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe #childe x reader #zhongli fluff #xiao fluff #diluc fluff #kaeya fluff #childe fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fluff

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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

Picture Perfect

ao3 link! donna beneviento x reader! I tried to make reader as gender neutral as possible so I hope I succeed! tell me what you think and sorry for any grammatical errors! also inspired by this ask that @milfcoven got but I decided to make the painter reader instead of alcina, hope that’s okay, I just thought this was really cute!

***

You'd only been in the village for six months, but you were friends with most of the villagers. Surprisingly, you hadn't been sent to Castle Dimitrescu upon your arrival. The Lady of the Castle had tried to get you to accompany her back to her home, but you declined the offer and she allowed it. You were shocked, to say the least, that the Lady had let you go back to your home unharmed, but she vowed that you'd be under her protection and that nothing would happen to you as long as you stayed here in the village.

Now, here you were watching another woman who was the Head of House Beneviento. She didn't come into the village often and when she did, she never spoke herself, she used her doll, you didn't know her name. You never questioned it because why would you? So when the woman walked up to you, you were surprised by the visit.

"Oh, good afternoon, Lady Beneviento." You greeted, your hand over your face so you could block out the sunlight a bit.

She nodded her head before the doll spoke. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Um, it's Y/N, My Lady. What's yours?" You replied.

The doll pointed to the Lady in black. "That's Donna, and I'm Angie." Angie said.

"Oh, those are beautiful names. If I'm right, Donna means world ruler and Angie means angel, messenger of God." You said. "Both meanings are very fitting."

Angie walked closer to you. "How so?" Angie asked.

"Well, Gods and Goddesses can be viewed as world rulers and if you're Lady Beneviento's messenger, so to speak, then we must be in the presence of a Goddess, little angel." You responded with a small smile to the doll. You glanced up at Lady Beneviento before looking back at Angie. "But, um, is there anything I can do for the two of you?" You asked.

Angie made the motion of wanting to be picked up, you looked up at Lady Beneviento for approval before doing so. "Mistress Donna would like to know if you would paint us." Angie said. "She said she'd pay you for it."

"Oh, I, well, I would love to paint the both of you." You replied. "I could, well, I guess I could come by House Beneviento whenever it's good for you two."

Angie shook her head. "Mistress Donna says it wouldn't be safe for you to come to the House." Angie said.

You furrowed your brows a bit. "Well, I could do it at my house instead. I'd have to clean it, but we can definitely get it done there if that's okay." Angie nodded her head. "Good. I guess just let me know what day would be a good day to get the painting done."

Angie hopped off your lap and went to be held by Lady Beneviento. She whispered something into Lady Beneviento's ear before looking back at you. "Mistress Donna says Wednesday would be a most pleasant day for the painting."

You smiled up at them. "Wednesday, it is then. I'll be expecting you." You replied. Angie said bye to you from her and Mistress Donna before they walked away from you. You quickly made your way back to your home, avoiding eye contact and conversation with anybody who witnessed your encounter with Lady Beneviento. You let out a small sigh before you began cleaning.

Wednesday came before you knew it, but at least you had most of your place cleaned and organised for your guests. As you finished setting up where you would do the painting there was a faint knock on the door. You let out a shaky breath before opening the door.

"Lady Beneviento, Angie, hi." You greeted as you let them into your home.

"Hi, Y/N. Mistress Donna and I are very excited about the painting today. I was so excited about it last night that I couldn't even sleep!" Angie exclaimed as Lady Beneviento carried her.

You flushed at her excitement. "Well, I'm glad you were excited, but I do hope you got some sleep. You know sleep is very important." You replied. "So this is where I'm going to do the painting. I'll start by sketching the two of you first and then I'll paint it. It'll take a few hours at least, but I should have the two of you home before dark." You explained.

"Y/N?" Angie called out.

You turned around. "Yes?"

"Mistress Donna would like to know if it's okay if she takes off her veil for the painting." Angie said. You nodded your head. "You won't be scared of her scar, will you?" Angie asked.

"Oh, precious angel, no. Lady Beneviento is still a Goddess, with or without her scar." You said with a smile. Angie hugged your leg as Lady Beneviento slowly undid her veil. You let out a small gasp. "See? Your Lady's a Goddess, Angie." You said to the doll and you could see a small blush colour Lady Beneviento's cheeks.

"You- you really think?" Lady Beneviento asked softly. It was the first time you had ever heard her speak, her voice sounded like honey. You nodded your head. "Thank you, um, Y/N."

"You're welcome, Lady Beneviento." You replied.

"Donna." You raised your eyebrow slightly. "In your lovely home, Donna will do just fine." She said with a soft smile.

You nodded you head slightly. "Alright then, Donna." You said. "How about we get started?" You suggested. Donna bit her lip before hesitantly moving over to the chair you set out for her. "Is something wrong? We don't have to do the painting if you don't want to."

Donna shook her head. "N-no, I want to. I just, can you, never mind." She waved the thought off.

You moved closer to her, taking her hand in yours. "Hey, listen, I'll do whatever you want me to do." You said.

"Mistress Donna is a bit self-conscious about her scar, Y/N." You looked at Angie. "Mistress Donna was wondering if you'd paint her an eye instead of painting her scar."

You nodded your head before looking back at Donna. "Is that what you would like, Donna?" You asked. She nodded her head. "I can do that. If that's what you want then I can do that." You replied.

"Mistress Donna says thank you." Angie said motioning for you to pick her up.

You have a small smile. You placed Angie on Donna's lap before asking a question. "Are you two... connected?"

"In a way, yes." Donna replied.

You hummed. You sketched her and Angie mostly in silence, occasionally asking her to turn a certain way. It took you a few hours to sketch them out like you had that it would, but you wouldn't have enough time to get it fully done to give it to her before dark.

"I didn't realise how late it was getting." You said when you looked at the clock. "I apologise for keeping you in town for so long." You stood up from your seat and looked at Angie. "You should probably get this little angel to bed soon, My Lady."

Donna frowned a bit. "Donna, please. I'd like for you to call me Donna." She replied. You simply nodded your head at her request. "I suppose we should get going. Could you hold her while I do this?" She asked, gesturing towards the black veil on your couch.

"Of course." You said as you took the doll from her lap and held her.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" Angie asked. You smiled at her and leaned your ear down to her. You let out a soft gasp at what she told you. "Is that so? I'll be sure to make it extra special then, just for Donna... and you too, angel." You replied to the doll softly.

It wasn't long before you waving goodbye to the two of them as they headed back to their home. You had agreed on Sunday for Donna and Angie to come back for the painting, and they did. You'd just woken up when you heard the knock on your door. Smiling to yourself you made your way over to let them in.

"Donna, Angie, you're here early!" Nonetheless, you allowed them into your home. "I need a shower, but make yourselves comfortable. I made some tea if you'd like to have some, Donna, cups are in the cabinet on the right." You called over your shoulder as you made your way into the bathroom. When you came out, you found Angie asleep on your couch with Donna's veil over her while Donna was sat in a chair sipping on a cup of tea. "Angie must be really tired if she's sleeping right now." You said, looking at the sleeping doll fondly, a small smile on your face.

Donna let out a small laugh. "She, um, didn't get much sleep last night. And when Angie is restless then so am I." Donna replied. Looking her over, you did notice that she looked a bit tired. "It's no bother to me, I enjoy keeping her company." She quickly added upon seeing the concerned look on your face.

"I don't doubt that one bit." You said. "How have you been?" You asked.

"Same old, same old. Mother Miranda called a meeting for the Lords and warned us of some outsider coming to the village soon, to make sure we're prepared for his arrival." Donna explained. "I have no doubt that Alcina or Heisenberg will get their hands on him before me and Moreau get a chance at him and I wouldn't mind it one bit, to be honest."

"Speaking of Lady Dimitrescu, she tried to pursue me once, but I turned her down. Quite frightening that I lived through it." You said as you sighed into your cup of tea. Donna arched her eyebrow. "She said something about how I reminded her of someone she once knew a long time ago. It was very flattering, I guess, but I had no idea what she was going on about." You explained.

Donna looked at her cup, tapping her fingers on it. "A past lover, I assume." She said softly. You couldn't help the laugh you let out in disbelief. "I'm serious. Alcina has had some lovers come back to her, reincarnated and all that, it never slips past her when a past lover returns to the village." Donna said. "But never have I heard of one passing her up."

You shrugged a bit. "She's a beautiful woman, of course, but nothing compared to you, Donna." You replied and you could see her blush at the compliment as she waved it off. You put your cup down to take her hand in yours as you had done the last time she was here. "I, um, I mean it. You're a Goddess, Donna, you're picture perfect." You said as you leaned closer to her, staring into her eyes, your lips only a few inches from her.

Donna let out a shaky breath. "Speaking of picture perfect, the portrait?" She said before clearing her throat, breaking you out of the trance the two of you seemed to be in.

You jumped up, scratching the back of your head. "Yes, the portrait." You smiled as you went over to get it. You spoke to her as you walked back over to where she was sitting. "A little angel, not naming any names, told me that today was a very special day so I tried to make it extra special for you, Donna." You took the sheet you had over the painting off and waited for her reaction.

You stared at the lady in black sitting in one of your chairs with curious eyes as she stared at the portrait, observing it before she looked up at you with tears in her eyes. Donna stood up from her chair and pulled you into a hug. "It's perfect. So, so perfect. Thank you." Donna said into your ear softly sending a small shiver down your spine as she pulled away. You expected her to sit back down, but instead she studied your face before she leaned in to kiss you. It took you a second to register what was happening before you reciprocated the kiss, pushing your lips into hers a bit before she pulled away. "Was that, did I overstep?" She asked.

You shook your head. "No. Not at all." You said before you kissed her again, a small smile on your face. You reluctantly pulled away. "I'm glad you liked the portrait. Happy Birthday, Donna."

Donna gave you a small smile in return as she returned to her seat, stealing a glance over at the still sleeping doll. "Angie's not going to be pleased that I saw it without her. Or about the fact that we..." Her voice trailed off as she touched her lips before looking up at you. "Put the sheet back on it?" She asked.

"Of course. Wouldn't want the little angel to miss out on such a special moment, would we?" Donna let out a laugh as she shook her head at your question. In all honesty, you hadn't expected to fall for Donna Beneviento, but you were glad you turned down Lady Dimitrescu if it meant you got to make this Goddess of a woman smile and laugh any chance you could.

#donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento #angie beneviento #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #yes #tall vampire lady #is mentioned #here's her tag #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 3 years

Text

Hayloft (p.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts...)

Warnings: Abuse, mentions of drinking, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

__________________

When your car finally pulled up the old dirt driveway to your family's farm house, the sun was already setting, casting an orange hue over the acres of land that your father had inherited from his father. It was beautiful, really. The sun was behind your old two story home made of wood planks that were covered in chipping white paint. The door’s paint was also chipping, only this time it was old navy blue paint - at least that’s the color it was supposed to be when it was painted who knows how many decades ago - that peeled back to reveal the wood beneath.

Your father’s truck wasn’t in the driveway yet when you pulled up and you sighed in relief because it gave you the opportunity to get dinner started before he got home. You headed straight for the kitchen. The only moment taken for yourself was the moment of silence when you leaned against the counter top and stretched out your back from the long day's work at the diner. The refrigerator was mostly empty and you made a mental note to run to the store after work tomorrow before your father could notice the lack of food. Thankfully, there was still enough scraps to piece something together for tonight between the fridge and the cupboards.

The house was swimming with the delicious scent of herbs, onions, potatoes, and stock as you boiled a stew on the stove when you heard the front door open. “Hi, Daddy! How was work?” You asked over your shoulder before you even heard his steps enter the kitchen, not actually caring but knowing he’d be upset if you didn’t ask.

He came around the corner but you could hear from the moment the door opened that there were the footsteps of more than one person entering your home. With a frown, you turned from the stove and took a few steps so you could see around the wall that blocked your view of the front door but your father and new mystery person stepped around that corner and into the kitchen before you could get that far. You stopped in your tracks, startled by their sudden appearance, and your hand flew to your chest as your eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry!” You chuckled awkwardly, apologizing for your jumpiness, “Didn’t think you’d be comin’ in here.”

It was a man about your age that stood just behind your father, a navy baseball cap twisted in his hands and his footsteps light so as to not knock dirt off onto the floor from his work boots, both welcomed displays of manners that you appreciated, unlike your father who left a trail of chunks of dried mud and grease everywhere he walked. This new boy, though, he was cute. Short curly hair that was messy, either from work or wearing the hat, big expressive brown eyes that reminded you of a puppy in the best possible way, a tight lipped expression that showed he was a little nervous and uncomfortable to be here, they were all a welcome, albeit unexpected, surprise.

"Work was good. This here is Arvin Russel. He'll be staying with us, at least for the night." Your eyes flicked back to the boy you now knew as Arvin when your dad introduced him and your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact.

He nodded his head slightly, a small cordial smile flashing on his face for just a moment, "Pleasure to meet you,..."

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you as well. If you're staying the night, let me add some water to the soup and then I'll go make up the spare bed." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the pot of stew that was nearly done.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you."

Before you could notice him moving, your dad was already beside the fridge and you reached out to try to stop him before he could open it. "Let me get you something! What about you, Arvin? You want a beer or some water?" You scurried to try and beat your dad to the fridge that you knew would earn you a reprimanding that you didn’t deserve.

You were too late though and your dad already swung the door open wide. You stepped back nervously, rubbing the sharp edge of your nails against your thumb. "It's damn near empty." He noted, voice stiff and dissatisfied. He stood, managing to produce the last two beers from the refrigerator before slamming it shut.

You flinched at the loud sound, hearing the few glass jars of preserves and jams clanging against each other inside from the force. Your eyes rolled beneath closed lids at his overdramatic reaction, even though it was one you expected. "I'm gonna hit the market after work tomorrow but I checked that we have enough for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow." Your voice was sweet and placating, careful to respond in a way that would keep his temper in check.

"It's that damn job of yours. I told you women shouldn't be working. They belong in the house where you should be. Now look. You went and let the kitchen run out." He passed Arvin a beer, which he reluctantly accepted, watching the way your father pointed his finger at you accusingly. “Ain’t no man gonna want a wife who can’t even keep the kitchen stocked up.”

Your tongue was raw inside from biting down on it so hard in order to keep yourself in line, as he called it. You didn't need a blow out tonight, not with Arvin here. "I manage to work and keep up with the house just fine, Daddy. We just got a little low on groceries but I'll be heading to the market tomorrow to fix it. Don’t you worry." Even you were surprised with how even and sweet your voice came out, that ever present fire of anger towards your father having been fanned into a decent blaze.

He popped the tab on his beer and sighed, dropping the topic for the time being, "Fine. But make sure to pick up some fixin's for that chicken roast you make. Patty is lookin' nice and fat in the coop so why don't you cook her up tomorrow."

You grimaced at the thought. Patty was one of the chickens in your coop out back that had been pretty slow when it came to laying eggs but you’d grown attached to her nonetheless. Ever since you were a young girl, your daddy warned you not to become attached to the animals out back but you never listened. Back then, you’d had your mother to step in and convince him not to kill the animals for whatever reason she could come with and opt for buying meat from the market instead. You hadn’t been able to convince him like that since she’d passed. Everything had been different since she passed.

“I don’t know, Daddy. Patty’s been layin’ a lot of eggs lately and we’ve been gettin’ extra money from sellin’ all those eggs. Why don’t I just pick up a chicken in town tomorrow at the store.” You insisted, walking back over to the stove to stir the stew.

“Don’t go wastin’ money on things we already got! We got some chickens out back. Just cook one of ‘em up tomorrow!” Your father’s voice was hard and stern now, enough to fill the air with tension in Arvin’s presence. You turned slowly, making eye contact with Arvin briefly before quickly avoiding it. You didn’t like the way he stood awkwardly, silently watching the interaction he clearly didn’t think highly of. Your father was already getting worked up and it would only get worse the longer the night went on.

Biting your cheek, you nodded, “Yes, sir. Now why don’t you boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in just a minute.”

Dinner went relatively well, despite your father’s occasional grumblings about there not being any beer. Once you finished, you stood up and picked up yours and your father’s bowls before noticing Arvin’s was empty as well. “Did you want some more? There’s just enough for one more if you’d like it.” You offered Arvin that last bit of stew but he just shook his head and stood up.

“Oh, no thank you miss. Dinner was delicious though. Let me help with that.” He grabbed his own bowl before your hand could reach it and then took the bowls from your hands as well before setting them down at the sink.

You chased after him, “Thank you but you don’t have to do that! Please, sit. I’ll make your bed up when I’m finished cleaning up dinner.”

“She’s right, son. Kitchen ain’t no place for a man. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the room you’ll be stayin’ in.” You father’s chair screeched against the beat up wooden floor as he stood, beckoning Arvin to him.

Arvin was standing right beside you, his arm only a few inches from yours as he lowered the stack of bowls into the sink. He looked over at you with deep soulful eyes that seemed to look right through your calm facade in a way that made you feel seen like never before. It was highly uncomfortable, almost violating after all these years of hiding away what you felt for the sake of keeping the peace, and you forced a smile, “Please, you’re our guest. It wouldn’t be right to make you do the dishes. You go with him.”

He gave you a drawn out hesitant look but turned away nonetheless and walked towards your dad. “Thank you again for letting me stay here till I get things figured out. It’s mighty kind of you.” Arvin thanked you and your father for your hospitality, shooting you one last glance over his shoulder before following your father down up the stairs towards the spare room.

You made quick work of the dishes, having cleaned most of them as you were cooking earlier anyways and scurried to the closet that held your extra sheets. As you passed the bathroom, you heard the shower running and knew it was your father bathing after his long day of work, like he always did right after dinner. The man was a creature of habit.

With your arms full of neatly folded faded steel blue linens and the thicker burnt sienna colored wool blanket, you made your way towards the guest room Arvin was staying in to find the door wide open and the man looking through his bag that was set on the bed. “Knock knock,” you announced your presence, waiting at the entryway for Arvin to notice you before entering.

He spun around, dropping something that you didn’t see quickly into his bag and pressing it down while flashing you a small polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.”

You walked into the room, raising the linens in your hands, “I brought some sheets so I could make up your bed.” You walked over to the wooden chair and set the top sheet down before making your way back over to the bed, unfolding the bottom sheet as you did, waving it up and down in the air to straighten it out before laying it flat on the bed.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss,” He moved his bag to the ground and jumped to lift the corner of the mattress and tuck the sheet beneath it.

You blushed at his kindness, not used to such help from your father, but shook your head, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress on the opposite side of the bed “If my daddy came in and saw you fixin’ the bed yourself, he’d kill me,” you chuckled to make it sound like a joke but you knew better than that. He wouldn’t actually kill you but you would certainly get some less than kind words thrown your way, maybe even a few beer cans thrown your way depending on how drunk he was.

Arvin shook his head, his hands falling on his hips, “Looks like you do most the housework ��round here.” What he was insinuating was clear even though his tone didn’t change but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t need to concern himself with the difficulties between you and your father.

“So how’d you and my dad meet?” You changed the topic, going to grab the top sheet and unfolding it. You laid it over the bed and tucked your side in, Arvin reaching down to tuck his side in as well in a silent act of defiance against your insistence that he didn’t need to help. It occurred to you suddenly after the question left your lips that you didn’t actually know anything about this boy but, for some reason, you still didn’t feel uneasy around him.

Arvin pulled the top corner of the sheet up to the head of the bed as he answered, “I just started workin’ at the garage with ‘im.”

“You like cars?” You questioned, spreading out the final layer on the bed, the wool blanket.

Arvin shrugged, “Never been really into ‘em but I can fix ‘em alright enough. Just needed the work and happened to see the wanted sign when I was passin’ through town.”

Your brow raised in curiosity, “You were just passin’ through and stopped in this old town cause of a help wanted sign?” The little town you lived in wasn’t terrible but it was far from a destination that people really moved to for work unless you a doctor desperate for a place to practice or something like that. “You must really be desperate,” you joked but immediately felt a slight pang of regret when a shred of truth could be seen in his eyes.

“Just tryna figure out where I’m goin’ ‘n what I wanna do. Figure I’ll find somewhere I like eventually.” Arvin picked up his bag and set it off to the side where it was a little more out of the way.

You stared at the man standing before you, taking every bit of him from the grease stains on his white t-shirt to his scuffed up brown work boots to his messy hair, dirty from dried sweat. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with him that you realized that you’d been staring in a settled yet weirdly comfortable silence. You stood up straight and smiled to diffuse the awkwardness you’d unintentionally fostered, “You’re more than welcome to take a shower. My daddy should be finished any second. I’ll set some extra towels in there for you.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He nodded in appreciation but offered no further conversation. You could tell from the moment of silence that it was time for you to make your exit.

“Well, uh, I better head to bed. You need anything before I go?” You asked, backing towards the door and swinging slightly with it once your hand hit the old bronze knob.

Arvin shook his head, “No, thank you. ‘M all set.”

“Alrighty, then. You have a good night.” You chewed your lip as you opened the door to make your exit.

“G’night, miss Y/N.”

Butterflies flew wildly in your belly as you walked to your bedroom. It had been a long while since you’d seen somebody worth looking twice at in this old town but now a mysterious handsome man rolls into town and stays with you. In your house. It probably wasn’t the safest of situations but Arvin genuinely looked like a nice man. From your very brief interactions with him, you couldn’t really imagine him trying to hurt you or your father for no reason. Even if he did, you knew where your daddy kept his shotgun and you had no problem defending yourself. But like I said, you had an unearned sense of peace with Arvin that you hoped wasn’t a misjudgement.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” Your father’s gruff but thankfully not entirely drunk voice made you stop in your tracks and turn towards his room with a suppressed groan. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom in nothing but an undershirt and long johns with his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides.

You shook the smile off your face. “Just thought of somethin’ funny that happened at work,'' you lied. “You need somethin’?”

“I watched you come out o’ that boy’s room with a big ol’ grin on your face. Better not let me catch you ‘n him. Ain’t no daughter o’ mine gonna be whorin’ around with some boy blowin’ through town, y’hear?” He threatened, his hands reaching down to pull up his worn out long johns.

Your blood boiled at the accusation and despite your best efforts to keep peace while Arvin was here, you spat words with venom, “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with Arvin. God forbid I have a damn smile on my face.” Your voice was low enough so that you hoped your guest hadn’t heard your outburst but when your father’s face darkened and he began taking slow, heavy steps towards you, you weren’t sure if your charade of normalcy would last much longer.

Your father hovered over you, exaggerating the size difference between the two of you, “I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. You play make believe with that little diner job but I'm the head of this house. I'm your father. You watch that fuckin’ tone with me girl."

Your jaw was clenched tightly, matching your fists, as you glared up at him with indignantly furious eyes. Father your ass. He once had been your father, an imperfect but loving man who used to try. Now he was merely a selfish broken sperm donor. He inherited this house from his father, didn’t pay a darn cent, and you couldn't remember the last time he pitched in a dime for anything but alcohol and the occasional dinner he made when he was in a good mood. He did do that- have these strange out of character nights where he pretended to be kind and loving. They were far and few between though and, while you enjoyed the change of pace, it felt like walking on eggshells in some fantasy world.

A heavy silence settled between the two of you that crackled with a tension that could snap at any moment and turn into a full blown fight. Your eyes were narrowed on his as you refused to let him think he intimidated you anymore. Nevertheless, you turned on your heel, nails digging into your palm, and walked down the hall towards your room, leaving him alone.

“He wouldn’t want you anyways, fuckin’ attitude like that.” Your father grumbled to your back, hoping for one last reaction out of you that you refused to give.

It took all the control in the world to not slam the door in his face but you knew there was no way it would escape Arvin’s attention. You’d have to resort to the therapy of muffling your furious tear-soaked screams into your pillow until you finally fell asleep, like you did many nights.

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x reader #Arvin Russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell x you #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics

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thejudgingtrash · 3 years

Note

11. “...did you just sniff me?” for percabeth pretty please 🙏🤍🤍🤍

Heya! I’m finally here to come back to this request 😄😄 It took me only a little bit in comparison to other requests, but I'm here!

Also since @percyheartsannabeth, @skaterannabeth and @not-optimistic-petrol-biscuit had asked about fluff. Here you go... Kinda? 😬 Anyway. Here's a monster sneak peek into may I introduce you to my beloved wife? 😋

It took me all day yesterday, but I managed to pump out 11k words. That's a record for a single session in one day (with like two breaks). And yes, that is still not the entire chapter. Here are roughly 9,2k for you to consume!

TW: alcohol, overbearing relatives not minding their own business, a tiny section talking about domestic abuse and Athena and Frederick Chase ain't shit but that's nothing new. Poseidon too, for once. Enjoy!

may I introduce you to my beloved wife?

(*absolutely not proof-read, my bad)

Annabeth sighed. You can do this. You can do this. You’ve already finished the week. Think about the money. Think about the move to California. Push through this day and next week, think about the money and the minute you’ll hand your termination in. She wanted to splash some water up her face, but the makeup that tinted her lips in a luscious rose and added some bronze to her high cheekbones was too expensive to be washed off and hastily reapplied.

It was pre-Dionysus Day, which meant it was merely the calm before the storm. The first sparkling sip of an impending disaster waiting to rollover the roomy Greek villa Percy forced her to stay in. Well not really forced. Forced and bribed her to stay in. That made it sound slightly better. Just think of the one-hundred seventy-five dollars he’s going to transfer into your bank account for your new start in California. I should renegotiate. California is also expensive. Make it two-hundred fifty thousand.

The tall blonde looked at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman full of life was the first thing she had seen in the morning but now she looked tired and annoyed, just how she felt. Something crashed in one of the dozens of rooms next to her and people laughed. Annabeth sighed again. It was the only thing she could do, otherwise she would scream like a banshee, making sure that at least Hermes and Prometheus would check her, if it wasn’t for Percy stuffing socks into her mouth to make her shut up before they got to her. The majority of his Greek relatives had been lovely if not terribly nosy and overbearing. It was the opposite of her family. His was warm and chaotic and for the most part welcoming. Hers? Cold, apathetic, disapproving of everything she did. She had no family in comparison, and neither would she want to compare this wholesome messy bunch to the cold-hearted Athena Pallas and the monster that was Friedrich Chase.

Annabeth respected Hera and Hestia, she definitely side-eyed Aphrodite who was cheating on her husband and she would definitely stay away from Zeus. Crossing paths with him occasionally in the New York office of Atlantic INC. was terrible, seeing him openly be flirty and loosen up during a forced trip was way worse.

This was a bad idea and I have a terrible feeling about this. The burgundy wrap dress that hugged her skin was soft and light but in the Thessalian heat it felt like a sticky cocoon caging her. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, ready to burst out and wow everyone. Neither was she a moth drawn to a flame. She was a bug that had been sprayed by Percy with a pesticide, wrapped in toxic chemicals which were slowly dissolving her body, piece by piece.

A knock shoved the horrendous image inside of her head aside. “Yes?” she asked with a firm voice. Too firm with a hint of annoyance, but she was not a professional actress and could not switch her emotions off as she pleased. She was a junior marketing manager for Christ’s sake. Not for much longer. Only two more months…

Percy opened the door. “Are you ready?“ he asked with his usual pleasant baritone reaching her ear.

He wore light linen pants that hugged his legs loosely and a light blue shirt with the first buttons opened up. She could see his defined chest and the swirls of black hair peeking through. The hair was styled into a disheveled curly mess which suited him way better than the gelled back corporate look and he forgot to trim his beard like the day before. Annabeth couldn’t deny what she saw – her tormentor was a very attractive man.

“Do you want to bail?” His sea-green eyes darkened a shade. Worry flashed through them.

Annabeth exhaled sharply for the last time. “I wish I could but then I’d leave you without a fiancé,” she smiled through the pain.

Her glance found her reflection again. The topknot was still intact, and a few strands carefully framed her heart-shaped face. She looked perfect on the outside and she wanted to commit manslaughter in the inside.

“Let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and stretched his hand out. It seemed like Percy was the one that would rather bail.

Annabeth took it without any complaint. She was the happy girlfriend soon-to-be-wife and holding hands was way better than being forced into kissing him during Sports Day. The Theodoropoulos family truly had planned activity after activity during those two weeks in winter.

“Oh!” Sally peeked into the bathroom and saw her son holding Annabeth’s hand.

“There you are! Is everything okay, mija?” she asked with her sweet Dominican accent and looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth automatically smiled back. Sally was the mother she never had, and it broke her heart crumble by crumble by the sheer charade Percy and she were forced to display for the next six days. Sally Jackson deserved the best. She certainly didn’t deserve being deceived and lied to by her terrible son and his tag-a-long coworker.

“Yes, Percy was just making sure we’re arriving on time.” Annabeth got on her toes and placed a soft kiss on Percy’s stubbled cheek. It tickled but by now she had gotten used to it.

He rolled his eyes, smiled at his mother, nonetheless. Sally’s eyes sparkled and she clapped, clutching her hands tightly. “You don’t know how proud you’re making me, mijo,” she then said teary-eyed.

“You finally found a great girl and she is standing next to you.” Sally wiped a tear away and the awful feeling that sat on Annabeth’s chest and made everything heavier, amplified by a thousand times.

This was way worse than being referred to as the woman that would bear him three to five children presuming with the first one sired on this current vacation by Ares. Yes, Annabeth wanted two children at max, but not definitely now. She was twenty-eight and in the prime of her life! Note: Percy would certainly not be the father of said two children. Unruly blond waves and a mischievous grin blitzed through her head. Pale blue eyes came back from the deepest pit of her memory. Luke. Fuck no, that was even worse than Percy. His betrayal… Annabeth tried to shake the memory off and focused on the ongoing situation in front of her.

Sally truly hoped her son found love and not a quick fling. Oh shit, Annabeth thought and looked up to Percy whose face expressed similar thoughts. His conscience nibbled and guilt flooded his body.

“Mamá,” Percy began and released Annabeth’s hand in order to grasp the older woman’s shoulder.

Sally brushed his large hands off. “No, no! Off you go! You younglings should be downstairs celebrating your reunion with the entire side of Poseidon’s family.”

Annabeth appreciated the fact that Sally was invited and flown out each winter holiday by the Theodoropoulos’. Despite having been divorced from Poseidon for over twenty years, she was still a popular and welcomed guest, not just because of her son’s attachment to the Greek side and his tied division of the Greek family company.

Sally gave each of them a last smile before entering the women’s bathroom. Percy exhaled and pinched his nose. After ten seconds he released the nose and looked back at Annabeth. “Ready?” he asked a final time. Annabeth nodded.

The loud singing, yelling and talking that had been muffled by the bathroom hit her by a tenfold. The place had all the Mamma Mia vibes without the fun singing four days ago. Not anymore, as drunk relatives hit up the shore with loud music and talked loudly in their Pontic Greek dialect.

As the couple descended the stairs and walked through the parlor, a new wave of guests arrived at the same time. Three people that have just entered early adulthood looked up to them. Two men, one blond with a stoic face and bronzed skin, the other was shorter with spiky black hair and a beautiful grin on his lips. The woman next to him was the tallest out of the trio and possessed a high ponytail that would leave Ariana Grande dying out of envy. The dyed lilac hair swung around and nearly reached the middle of her thighs, meaning the hair was even longer without its tight prison on top.

“Thanatos, Zagreus, Megaera!” greeted Percy and gave each one of them a rib crushing bear hug. They looked pleasantly surprised at seeing Percy being accompanied by a pretty woman his age. It seems like the proposal didn’t reach all of the ends of the Greek world.

They fell into a short conversation in Greek and Annabeth smiled politely next to Percy as she fell entirely out of place. The evil Duolingo owl didn’t prepare her for this experience. Neither did her mother bother teaching her at least their Athenian dialect properly. She could introduce herself in Greek, order a beer, say goodbye and that was it. Thank you, Athena. For nothing again.

“Oh, you must be Annabeth,” Megaera eyed her carefully and Annabeth had the feeling that she could split her open with her hands. Weirdly enough, Annabeth was kind of into it. Megaera wasn’t only as tall as Percy but she was clearly the one with the toughest workout regimen as she displayed her muscular legs and defined arms with a short cocktail dress only a few shades darker than her hair.

“Yes,” Annabeth squeaked. She nearly added a ma’am towards the end. Megaera cocked her dark eyebrow. She had an aura that demanded respect.

“Interesting to see the woman who captured Perseus’ heart. It seems that he did develop a good taste after all. Calypso was as pretty as the crescent moon flower but sadly as dull as his corny jokes are.” Megaera’s deep smirk was a stamp of approval as her eyes roamed all over Annabeth.

“Hey!” Percy interrupted and placed a firm hand on Annabeth’s waist, as if he was trying to mark his territory.

“You have your own toys right to your right,” he then added with a playful tone.

Megaera actually laughed and waved dismissively. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t room for more.” A clear offer which left Annabeth’s face turn into a fiery tomato red.

“Anyway, we have some catching up to do,” Thanatos proposed as Zagreus and he silently watched the conversation blossom. He sounded as reserved as he looked.

“Indeed,” Zagreus agreed, surprising Annabeth with a posh English accent. “Father will murder me if we miss out on his moussaka. It’s to die for you need to try it, Annabeth, at least before Hephaestus gets ahead of himself.”

Annabeth laughed. The Theodoropoulos did have their positives. “I will, Zagreus,” she nodded.

“Oh please, if aunt Sally gave her go for you to stay here, you’re as good as family. We’re Than, Zag and Meg for you,” Zagreus offered.

“Annabeth is already my nickname but thank you for the kind offer!”

The three new guests went on to join relatives and friends at the party which seemed to get more chaotic by each passing minute as the volume seemed to increase.

“My cousin Zagreus from my uncle Hades’ side,” Percy explained as the three went out of his sight.

“Are they friends? Or…”

“Pretty sure they’re polyamorous. You know, I don’t know, and I honestly don’t really care, I see Zag once every twelve months at max. Just don’t stick to Meg’s side for too long otherwise she’ll turn you into her fiancé.” Percy’s tone suggested that he was not joking.

“Oh.” Annabeth didn’t know what to think of it.

Percy closed his eyes as if he was making a silent prayer, before his sea-green met Annabeth’s light gray ones. She smelled like lemon with a hint of lavender, instead of roses like normally. Delicious. If it weren’t for the fact that it was Annabeth.

“So, listen. You know I’ve talked about Dionysus Day and how his birthday brings out the worst side of everyone.”

Annabeth nodded as Percy went on to explain.

“Pre-Dionysus Day is basically same with the only exception that my great-grandmother’s house is filled with the entire family. Yes, we’re expected to eat, drink, laugh, drink, dance, drink, reminisce on our past, drink, make fools out of ourselves in order for them to take blackmail pictures and drink some more, but no matter how much they want you to open up… try to control yourself. Everything you say can and will be used against you.”

Annabeth’s stomach started to churn, and her knees slightly gave in. “Look, I’m truly sorry for the mess that I’ve caused,” Percy looked directly into her eyes and tried to ignore the rosy streaks across her flushed cheeks. “And my relatives can be overbearing. But if we manage to stick through this night and the next one tomorrow, we’re as good as done with playing games.”

“Fine,” Annabeth gritted through her teeth. She had agreed to the terms and condition. She didn’t need a reminder of the stupid decision she made two months ago.

“Let’s go.”

She placed her hand on the doorknob that separated the parlor from the huge living room. Percy followed her as she opened the door. A wave of laughter, wine, ouzo, discovered secrets, cigarettes, sweat and fun hit them.

“Oh wow, someone should open a window.” Percy suggested as he coughed. Luckily cousin Metis had the same idea. No, aunt Metis. Or was it Thetis? Why did Percy need to have so many relatives with similar names again?

“Oh, Annabeth, look at you!” Aphrodite had snuck up behind them and surprised the fake couple by hugging each of them and nearly spilling the expensive Greek vintage in her hand on Percy’s shirt. The red alcoholic liquid carelessly swirled in her glass and more than often seemed to want to escape from her clutch.

“Aphrodite, be careful!” Percy reminded her as she dug her fingers into his arm. Her nails were as fake and bought as was the bond between Annabeth and Percy.

“Oh, please cousin, you should learn how to loosen up!” She laughed, but it sounded more like the shrill sound a bird made when it got nearly hit by a car. The high pitch made Annabeth slightly frown.

“Take your girl upstairs and show her all the Zorbas moves you got!” She wiggled her badly overdrawn eyebrows.

Aphrodite had always been the poster child of perfection. She knew how to dress her curvaceous body the right way, she knew how to apply the perfect touches of makeup on her face and she was the most graceful being Annabeth had ever met. Seeing her so disheveled left the blonde American content. It showed that Aphrodite wasn’t one of the gods, she was a mortal mess like they all were. That, and it was kind of funny seeing the abrupt transition from oozing perfection to looking like a rough mess after a couple of glasses of wine.

“If you know what I mean, you two know what I mean, right?”

“Yes,” Annabeth and Percy answered. Unfortunately, they did.

“That reminds me, this is such a pretty dress that you got!” Aphrodite’s eyes widened and she tugged at Annabeth’s sleeve that went slightly over her elbows. “Percy needs to bring me a couple of those the next time he visits. Oh wait! You’re about to marry, Annabeth can take me shopping. I want to visit New York next summer. When was your wedding again?”

Panic filled Annabeth she tried to stutter a lame excuse like they had done the entirety of the stay. Aphrodite’s brown eyes found something else to focus on in the meantime. Her hand went out to poke the tall blonde’s chest as she went on to pull on the thin fabric.

“You should show the men what you got! Free the girls!” Aphrodite yelled over the loud music, pushing Annabeth’s C cup to its limits. “Let Percy stand in the corner with that stupid frown, all jealous and depressed while you’re out on the hunt!”

Percy did not look amused especially since he tried to pull Annabeth away.

“Yeah, just like that!” Aphrodite’s glass pointed directly at his face as Annabeth tried to shove Aphrodite’s fickle fingers aside. “Oh, if I were just a little bit younger and not tied to your cousin…”

“You mean cousins,” Percy corrected and made a step backwards as Aphrodite’s dreamy and drunk dazed focus shifted from Annabeth to him.

“Aphrodite, leave Percy and his future wife alone,” Hera arrived to save the stressed couple and rolled her eyes. “Go harass Hephaestus and try to be a faithful wife for once in your life.”

She still looked like she had a massive stick shoved up her ass by the way she stood entirely straight next to them, but Annabeth appreciated the gesture. If Hera didn’t like Aphrodite much, Annabeth would rather join Team Hera than stand alone by the bleachers and under Aphrodite’s charmspeak. Aphrodite pouted and stomped with her feet twice as if she were a toddler and not a grown woman marching towards her forties. Then she stormed off and ran into the arms of her lover, nother husband to spite her mother-in-law and embarrass her even further.

“Malàka,” Hera cursed and lost her cool for one second, before clearing her throat and focusing on the already tired fake engaged couple in front of her. Not even Hera seemed to be averse from drinking a glass of wine or two. “You two definitely need a drink.”

Annabeth agreed with her for once.

She pointed at the bar behind her, which was managed by Dionysus and his wife Ariadne. The number of relatives ganging up on them and demanding new drinks was frightening. Surprisingly Dionysus kept his cool and shoved drinks in people’s hands at an impressive speed.

“Yeah, let’s get over with it,” Percy sighed and took Annabeth’s hand again.

“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked him. She knew from Thalia that Percy rarely ever drank and that his family was to blame for most of it. Percy seemed stiffer and graver than usual as well. As much as she disliked his jokey nature and easy-going demeanor he displayed at work, she’d much rather have that Percy by her side right now. Dionysus Day and the day before seemed like it was hell on earth for him and walking through it each year must take a toll on him.

“Yeah, let’s just each grab a glass of wine. Let them be happy about me shoving this disgusting stuff down my throat.” He thanked Ariadne as she prepared two glasses of the same vintage Aphrodite seemed to have inhaled earlier.

“Thank you.” Annabeth took her glass and sniffed. The wine smelled sickly sweet with a hint of the bitterness that the fermentation process had left. The glass in her hand weighed surprisingly heavy, not because of the wine itself but because of the golden swirls decorating it. The glass transitioned from the crystal-clear transparency into a deep black. A lyre surrounded by a bigger laurel wreath decorated the middle section and a golden snake was wrapped around the stem. The golden rim gave it a nice finish.

“Into a fruitful night,” Percy darkly mumbled over the music. He was really not looking forward to it, which confused Annabeth immensely. She didn’t understand why he pushed himself through this if he really didn’t like the drinking activities. He surely had his reasons, hence her not starting a fight with him over it. It was his family and their tradition after all.

“Into a fruitful night,” Annabeth instead repeated.

Issuing a weird toast as well. Percy Jackson was clearly not a drinker. Their glasses clinked and each of them took a sip. Thankfully grandma Rhea made sure they were well-fed before the festivities began.

“Fuck,” Annabeth muttered. A fine vintage as well. Not as sweet as she thought, it left a hint of sweet cumin as the lingering aftertaste. Her lipstick left a mark on the glass, but she didn’t bother to care as she took another gulp. The wine was nearly finished. She slowly started to understand why ancient civilizations went crazy after this stuff.

As she looked at her so-called fiancé, she saw that his glass was already empty. A grimace rested on his face as well.

“Err, Percy?”

“What?” The dark brooding look on his face was no more.

“Shouldn’t you take it easy?” Annabeth carefully asked. His eyes narrowed.

“I am,” he stated and cocked his head towards his cousin who was still busy playing the barkeeper but kept an overall watchful glimpse on the guests that flooded the gates.

“Dionysus saw me drink. Most importantly he saw us have a drink. That should be enough for me, but if you want some more, be my guest.” He shrugged.

Annabeth felt that she should probably drag his mopey ass out of the party, but it was way too early to leave. “Fine,” she said and asked Ariadne for a refill. Annabeth went in for another long sip. She should definitely stock her wine cabinet once she was back at her shitty apartment. Before the glass reached her lips again, Hermes snatched it away and chugged the remaining wine.

“Hermes, what the hell?!” Ariadne grabbed the glass and pushed her husband’s cousin away. The bored postman was back with his shenanigans.

“My bad, dear wifey, but I’m on a mission here to abduct sweet Annabeth,” Hermes winked and placed his hands around Annabeth’s shoulders.

“What are you up to?” Out of all of the relatives she’s met so far, Annabeth was convinced that everything Zeus had ever sired was a mistake. Zeus himself was a mistake.

“Can you stop being German and boring for once?” he joked. Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. She did not like this one bit. She turned her head around and saw that Percy had been pulled into a conversation by Hypnos and Morpheus. He had completely forgotten about her. Great.

Hermes guided her through the crowd, towards the middle of the room. They had to dodge chairs, drunk relatives, a sofa, chatty relatives, the coffee table and dancing relatives before they made it.

“There she is!” greeted Achilles the confused marketing manager.

Paris, Helen, Patroclus, Hermes and Achilles stood in a circle around a table. Dozens of shots of all sorts of colors were displayed. Annabeth had a terrible feeling about this.

“What is this and why are you pulling me into this?” Annabeth asked and did not like the mischievous grin they all shared. She wanted to go back home and cuddle with Daedalus on her sofa and push his cat ass out of the way before the next steamy Outlander scene hit the screen. Yes, Annabeth was that much of a single that seeing some on-screen action was the best she could get. She hoped that the mangy cat didn’t bother Thalia all too much while she was staying in Greece. She owed her so much already.

“Well, I stayed in your country,” Paris started. “And they have a weird tradition with ouzo. They don’t drink it the way we do, watered down and slowly at lunch and what not…”

Annabeth was still American for the most part and had nothing to do with Germany. The last time she stayed there was nearly thirteen years ago. She didn’t want to have anything to do with Germany. Friedrich Chase lived in Germany. And she fucking hated Friedrich Chase. Therefore, she hated Germany. Things that would never change. Okay, Hamburg was a cool city and she was glad her father moved to Cologne. Should she feel the urge to travel back to Germany for a week or less, she’d go to Hamburg, take ten thousand pictures, and post them on Instagram the minute before she was boarding her flight back to New York. Helping her to enrage her stupid father was all Germany had to offer.

“Germans do ouzo shots,” Patroclus cut to the chase. “And since you’re the newest member of our family…”

“And German!” Paris and Hermes added simultaneously.

“We’ve decided to play this little game,” Achilles added.

“What’s the name of the game?” Annabeth asked. She was only slightly curious. Emphasis on slightly.

“Last man standing. Oh sorry, ladies. Last person standing,” Hermes corrected himself as he placed four shots in front of each person. That was way too much hard liquor to handle. But if she did Jägermeister bombs in her sophomore year of college without any issues, this should be fairly easy.

“What are the rules?” They all looked at her in silence. No rules. No prize. Just drink.

“Oh wow.” The urge to roll her eyes and walk off came back with a force.

“I think I’m going to pass,” Annabeth said and already turned to her right.

“Why?” Helen asked innocently. “Need your man to look after you? The one who’s having an amazing time back there with his third glass of wine?”

Foul game. Annabeth’s head shot to the right. Helen was right. Percy was laughing and looked like he was having a great time chatting with Oceanus and his wife Tethys. Tethys refilled his glass as her husband and Percy broke into laughter once again.

If that’s the case…

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Annabeth agreed. She swallowed the bait and she knew it. There was no reason why she should feel upset about Percy opening up all of a sudden. He desperately needed it. Why she wished to be a part of that, Annabeth did not know.

“Great!” Helen threw her brown mane over her shoulders and grabbed the first glass.

“Για μας!” they all yelled and chugged the liquor. Gia mas, the Greek toast, was repeated every time and it seemed to brighten the mood, despite resting heavily on Annabeth’s stomach. Her college days were over, but she was glad she resisted coughing repeatedly.

Patroclus clutched his stomach after the second shot, Helen ran out after the third, Paris and Achilles were laughing maniacally after the fourth and Hermes mysteriously disappeared after the first one. Annabeth was the last person standing. She placed the crystalized shot glass back on the table and examined the messes around her. The only thing that had happened to her, were that more golden locks escaped from her bun and her lipstick needed some reapplying as she left marks on each glass.

Annabeth tried to take a step away from the table and felt how the world slightly shifted around her. The fact that she would curse and hate herself for her behavior in just six hours, was something drunk Annabeth gladly put aside. The headaches that definitely would haunt her for the rest of the trip didn’t matter, she won and that was all she cared about.

“Hell yeah!” she yelled as all inhibition faded away, leaving pure and raw life force behind. Unbeknownst to her, Annabeth had moved right into the circle of dancers.

“Perseus, get your bride before she breaks her legs!” someone laughed. Was it Iapetus? Or was it Hyperion? Who even cared at that point?

The next two hours were a blurred mess. A blackout slowly crept through her mind, leaving foggy memories behind. Annabeth felt how she was dancing with people and how people were laughing. Were they laughing at her or with her? Did it really matter? Why was her hair repeatedly slapping her face, didn’t she tie it up?

She danced with different people, men and women. She really hoped that the guy that looked like a naked Danny DeVito with longer black hair was not Zeus who had lost his shirt and pants. Who was the guy with the sea-green eyes again? Why was he clapping and laughing whenever she was busting a move next to Hermes? Was he important? Why did he remind her of work? The shots might have been a short-sighted idea after one and a half glasses of wine. She probably overestimated the amount of food she had consumed at dinner prior. Wasn’t she supposed to try someone’s moussaka?

“There you are! Ares, stop dancing with her for once. We’re about to leave.”

Ugh. Ares. Not Zeus, but still yucky.

Sea-green eyes. Percy, of course. How could she have forgotten the asshole that brought her into this whole mess? He seemed fairly sober, didn’t he have a glass or three of wine? Annabeth was certain, she’d be able to drink him under the table. His height and his build might put him at an advantage, but if he wasn’t used to drinking, she might have a fair shot.

A rock song was the next song that appeared. Percy wanted to drag Annabeth off the dance floor.

“Oh no!” Aphrodite intervened with a shrill screech. “Give the two lovers some room to show each other affection!”

Hera actually raised her glass for once to show that she actually agreed with one of Aphrodite’s wild ideas. Someone fumbled with the playlist and a Greek slow jam roared through the old speakers.

“Are you guys fucking serious?” Percy muttered under his breath. But roughly eighty pairs of eyes were all but watching the soon-to-be betrothed and waited for a romantic dance which reminded Percy more of the horrors that the eight-grade dance was.

Annabeth drunkenly hiccupped and looked at him in surprise as she felt one of his hands around her waist and the other one taking her hand. They rocked as if it was the final dance at prom. Annabeth barely remembered prom. Oh right. Her mother had forbidden her from going. She never attended prom.

A casual glimpse through the crowd showed her that people were actually filming this nonsense and some women were actually cooing. Did… did they seriously think this back and forth with sweaty clothes on was romantic? Her eyes found Percy’s again.

“So…” he began.

“So…” she repeated.

“Careful!” he warned her before twirling her through the tight circle. People screamed and applauded. A camera flash blitzed through the darkness twice.

“Oof,” Annabeth groaned. Her stomach and equilibrium did not appreciate that sudden movement.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” Percy swore. The rocking motion made both of them sleepy. Annabeth suppressed a yawn, rested her head on his shoulder. Percy could make the perfect comfy bed, if he wanted to.

Percy, sensing that people were awaiting some action from either of them, placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up. Annabeth’s eyes widened. Is he going to kiss me in front of them? Again? her panicked brain asked. She was turned into stone, not by Percy’s distant cousin Medusa who had eaten most of the truffles, but by the tenderness of his actions. He was one solid actor.

Percy placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before moving on to a temple. Annabeth blushed and buried her heated face in his chest as he released her. Intimate, soft and sweet. The screaming relatives disrupted their comfortable silence yet again. The slow song came to an end and the next upbeat one invited everyone back to the dance floor. Annabeth released herself from Percy’s tight embrace and just bolted. Damned be nausea. A wave of coldness hit her. She felt something she didn’t like the minute Percy had softly kissed and soberness woke her at a start. What was it? Anger? Disappointment? Longing? She didn’t know and she didn’t want to know.

“Annabeth!” Percy shouted, but the amount of people standing in his way made it more difficult for him to keep up with her. His hand brushed over his own lips.

Annabeth opened and closed doors left and right. The kitchen, the dining room, the smoking room. She hasted through the first floor until she found another lost soul in the fireplace room. Why the villa had a fireplace room in the first place, she did not know. It had been super-hot the entire time but what Annabeth understood as heat and what native Greeks deemed as hot temperatures didn’t have to correlate.

Great-grandmother Gaia’s humming faded away. The eldest of the Theodoropoulos looked up from the pair of socks she was knitting. When she came to find out the intruder was Annabeth, joy spread over her face.

“Come, come!” The broken English that she softly spoke reminded Annabeth of her own grandmother. She hadn’t seen Elsbeth Lilienthal-Chase since she had left Germany. And since her mother didn’t give her a chance to say goodbye, she didn’t have a phone number to reach her with. The only way would be through that asshole Friedrich Chase, and the only time she’d willingly let someone contact that man was if she had been six feet under and he would be forced to show up for one important family event for once.

“I was unable to sleep. Parties aren’t something for me. I’m too old and boring for my children and their children,” Gaia sighed as Annabeth took a seat on the green sofa next to the light blue armchair. All of the cushioning seemed to have been made by Gaia as the socks had the same pattern as the pillow that Annabeth leaned against. Balls of wool surrounded the older woman as if she sat on a field of fresh tulips.

“Drink, drink! You need water. I’m pretty sure you danced a lot.”

Annabeth kindly took the offer, grabbed the carafe and poured herself a little bit of water into a small glass. The water was surprisingly cold and refreshing.

“My children deem me crazy,” Gaia continued. “The war with the ottomans. Deportation. Fleeing and seeing death everywhere. Losing my father in the chaos. Then the big world war after that twenty years later. They don’t want to listen to the same stories. They only want to have fun. So, they sent me away.”

Annabeth felt terrible for the old lady. It looked like she had been through hell and back in her youth. She didn’t look like she needed much, only someone to listen to her.

“I won’t bore you much,” promised Gaia.

Gaia’s tanned leathery hands continued working on the little socks. “Don’t worry about tomorrow, dearie. We have plenty of acetaminophen and other hangover remedies. Tomorrow will be even worse, because Dionysus wants to celebrate his birthday with even more wine,” the old woman laughed, and her green eyes twinkled full of life.

“I also was young once…”

The two sat in comfortable silence, only interrupted by Gaia’s humming or Annabeth refilling her glass of water.

“So,” Gaia began.

“So?” repeated Annabeth.

“You are the woman that tamed my little Perseus,” the older woman grinned.

Oh no.

Annabeth had a lump in her throat and drinking water to solve it, didn’t work. She wasn’t just lying to Zeus and his wife. She was lying to an entire clan, from the youngest to the oldest members. What Percy and she were doing wasn’t right, neither was it fair. Sure, Percy’s shitty uncle didn’t help much by forcing him to marry the next person, but did the rest of the family deserve to be deceived as well? No, they didn’t, and that truth rested heavily on Annabeth’s narrow shoulders.

The fact that Gaia looked so much like her great-grandson was crazy. They possessed the exact same shade of sea-green. It was passed onto Rhea, Percy’s grandmother, and then Poseidon, Percy’s fucked up father. Always full of intelligence and calculation. Shifting easily from delighted and full of life to the crashing anger of a storm. Power and knowledge were key features of Gaia’s eyes.

“How did you meet my sweet Perseus again?” Gaia innocently asked but Annabeth knew that there was some sort of ulterior motive behind her question.

“At work,” she honestly answered, and Gaia smiled. The old lady was able to sense the truth.

“He’s not my direct boss, but we run into each other a lot. And we hated each other from the moment we saw each other.” Annabeth remembered how she accidentally spilled her hot coffee all over his shirt. She had been public enemy number one from then on.

“He’s an excellent boss, as much as I hate to admit it. He knows his ways around and is passionate about the ocean and its inhabitants. Definitely more passionate than me, I’m just there for the money. He actually wants to make a difference. And he’s extremely annoying, might I add.”

Gaia burst into laughter and needed a minute to calm down. Annabeth cracked a toothy grin. “Ah yes, I can see how you fell in love with him.”

Doom. Uneasiness. Discomfort. The lump in Annabeth’s throat grew bigger and bigger. Why was her vision so blurry all of a sudden? She looked down at her dress. Dark dots appeared. More sprinkled across her lap as Annabeth realized she was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabeth sniffled. “I… Percy… I…”

Gaia put her knitting utensils aside and set herself upright in the armchair. “Oh no, what is going on, Annabeth?”

The calming hand on her back did not help the young professional at all. No, Gaia’s honesty and curiosity made it way worse.

“Percy and I… we’re not engaged. We did it because Zeus-” Annabeth tried to confess, but Gaia brushed her off.

“It’s okay, Annabeth. I know,” the old woman smiled.

The tears that smeared her foundation or rather what was left of it ceased to fall. “You what?!”

Shock widened Annabeth’s light gray eyes.

“I knew from the minute you stepped into my house. I’m pretty sure Rhea knows as well.”

Annabeth’s jaw fell open. “B-but how?!” she stuttered and felt like an utter and complete idiot. The first few days had been rough and difficult, but now she thought that Percy and she conveyed the illusion of being a happy couple.

“You were scared of everything including him the minute you arrived,” Gaia warmly smiled. The infectious warm smile of a grandma looking out for her little chicks. Was Annabeth now one of them?

“I knew something was off with that sudden engagement of yours with the way you two behaved. Either you were pregnant, or it was a ruse. Since you are heavily drinking and paper thin, it was clear that there was no pregnancy. You young people truly don’t eat enough anymore,” Gaia shrugged, patted Annabeth’s knee and went back to knitting the sock.

“But now… it all makes sense. You do feel something for each other. Even if you are blind to it for now.” She continued to hum. “I just hope that my dear Perseus will be the young and carefree boy he was all those years ago one day again. And I do believe that you are the key in finding him hidden underneath all those layers and walls he had put up due to his father.”

Annabeth didn’t even close her mouth during the elder’s monologue. Did Gaia seriously connote that she… that Annabeth Chase… might feel something for her soon-to-be boss? Madness. Absolute madness. She took everything she had thought of the friendly old woman in front of her back. Maybe her relatives did have a point, when they decided to brush Gaia off due to her old age.

Annabeth? And feeling something for Percy? If that something was hatred and the utmost rage, absolutely yes. But… anything else? She would receive a hefty sum on her bank account and would put in her two weeks the minute she found a better job in California.

“You know… there is a tale I’d like to tell about men.”

And Annabeth would prefer to place the glass back on the table, throw the heels away, storm out and run to the next airport.

“They are stupid vapid creatures,” Gaia carried on.

Annabeth snorted behind her glass. “That is certainly true,” she agreed and earned an honest grin from Gaia.

“My dear husband Ouranos with whom I had all of my dear children decided one day that one woman was not enough. And that twelve children were not enough.”

Twelve children?! Annabeth's womb just twisted and turned in protest. The shocked expression on Annabeth’s face made Gaia chortle loudly.

“Oh yes, back in my day we were all very fruitful,” Gaia affirmed.

“That sounds horrible,” Annabeth interjected.

“Oh, only the birth part and the eighteen years after it,” the older woman dismissed her which made Annabeth in turn laugh again.

“My father was a farmer and he had one piece of advice: never let someone toy with you. You are not a doll; you are a person with morals and dignity, a person with feelings and dignity. Let no one, especially not a man, treat you like a commodity or something to kick around. Well… when dear Ouranos left me and sought our neighbor with bigger breasts… I taught him that lesson. And I did so with my father’s trusted knife that I hung on the wall afterwards.”

There was no knife displayed on the wall. It was a fucking scythe. Large, frightening, brutal. A golden great long sickle with jagged teeth rested on the wall as if it were ready to cut you up into one thousand pieces. Was there really dried blood stuck on the teeth or was Annabeth’s drunken mind making things up?

“The minute our youngest turned eighteen he took off and was never seen again. And now, should a person, in that case my Perseus, not know how to treat you properly, you know what to do,” Gaia advised and took a sip out of her own glass.

“Uh… you mean threaten to cut his genitals off with a large and sharp family heirloom?” Annabeth’s eyes widened again.

“No, dearie…” Gaia gave it some thought. “Well maybe so, dearie,” she then went on. That made Annabeth chuckle again.

“But demand absolute respect from him. Don’t ask him for it. Demand it. I don’t know how but he has dragged you into our family and expects you to play the perfect fiancé. This will eventually blow up in his face and he will drag you along with him. Teach him a lesson, however.”

“You know what? I will!” With Gaia’s official blessing, Annabeth was all smiles and scheming new plots. If the head of the family gave her the approval of kicking Percy’s ass, she definitely would.

Steps echoed in the fireplace room and Annabeth and Gaia’s heads turned to greet the intruder. They didn’t even realize the door opened and closed again.

Gaia’s younger twin who still had some black streaks in the braids marched into the hall, curious about what the two women in front of her were previously talking about. Gaia’s youngest daughter Rhea had joined them. The large blue floral dress made her seem like she never left the late 1960s and the two long braids only added to that sentiment.

“Mamá, what is going on? By the way Percy is looking for you, Annabeth,” Rhea informed her grandson’s alleged fiancé before taking a seat in front of her and grabbing one of the many balls of yarn in front of her mother. Rhea then went on to play with it as if she was a six-year old.

“Oh no, Rhea, Annabeth and I were just chatting about love and life,” Gaia batted her eyelashes.

“You see, I gave Rhea the same advice about her disgraceful husband when he went out to seek another woman.”

Rhea rolled her eyes behind the large pentagonally glasses. “You and your stories about the scythe, mother,” she sighed.

“I have to make sure the younger generation knows!” Gaia huffed. “I won’t be here for much longer and then-”

“We'll regret all the things we’ve said and done to you, I know mamá, you have been telling me this since I was four years old and spilled my apple juice,” Rhea completed her mother’s sentence.

Rhea’s attention shifted to the smiling blonde in front of her. She grew to like Percy’s fiancé. She had a fire within herself and a backbone, all great things to handle a Theodoropoulos man.

“But my mother is right when she says that the scythe is a trusted tool. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades did scare Kronos with it after he tried some foul things with their sisters. Treated them worse. Did overall horrible things. He never wanted daughters, only sons. Didn’t seem to accept the fact that it was out of my hand.” Rhea squished the ball of light blue yarn in her hand.

“My children were always looking out for me and I will be forever grateful for them. I do hope that you will have the same feelings and love for your children.” It was clear who their father was supposed to be.

“Yes, I hope so as well,” Annabeth squeaked. Did it get hotter in here all of a sudden?

The door opened, and a worried Percy stepped into the fireplace room. “Oh, there you are,” he sighed as he immediately sighted Annabeth’s blonde unruly curls. He had been running from the basement all the way to the roof searching for her. Relief washed over his face like some shower gel from a cheap commercial. Only then did he realize that Annabeth had been cornered by both his nosy grandmother and his even nosier great-grandmother.

“Whatever they’ve been telling you, it’s a lie, it’s wrong and it never happened!” he warned her as he took a seat right next to her.

“Oh please, relax,” Rhea rolled her eyes and threw the wool at her grandson. “We have been talking about mamá’s scythe.”

“Hey!” both Percy and Gaia complained. At least they hadn’t dished out embarrassing stories of him taking off in diapers at night.

“This is expensive! You young people show no respect towards others' belongings,” Gaia cursed.

Annabeth took the blue yarn and placed it back on top of the pyramid of other colors.

“Thank you!” Gaia smiled before she focused on finishing the sock.

“You’ve found your fiancé, Perseus. Now go off back to celebrate and let us old people reminisce about the past and talk.” Rhea lazily waved at them whilst Gaia didn’t even look up from her craft.

“We will,” Percy said while getting up and casually dragging Annabeth along. He kissed both Gaia and Rhea on the cheek, Annabeth threw a hasty “See you in the morning!” over her shoulder before the couple left.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked as he pulled Annabeth aside for a small breather.

She nodded. “It’s just a bit overwhelming with the amount of people that either want to take pictures of us, hope I remember when their youngest kid’s birthday is, or they tell me they hope we have our first baby preferably in less than a year.”

Percy blushed. He didn’t think it was that bad, but then again, men are mostly left out of the baby talk until their mother’s saw that their best friend’s children had their first grandbaby. He truly didn’t have any intention of having a child before the age of forty. He had to save a business from his damned uncle, run and manage said business and preferably find a woman he tolerated enough to marry before he could even think of children.

Percy apologized again. “One week,” he promised her.

“One week,” Annabeth repeated and nodded.

“We’re going in, you’ve missed the high of the party with your talk with my yai yai, but that’s perfectly fine. The first have already left, let’s just mingle for ten minutes or so before we can-”

The door flung open. “There they are!” yelled Hermes who was followed by Zephyrus and Hercules.

None of them had any intention of letting the party stop before five in the morning. It was merely two. The minute Hermes had his sights on Annabeth, he knew that he had found his best drinking buddy aside from Dionysus himself. Oh no, Annabeth thought and rightfully so.

The minutes of calmness and rest next to Gaia did their wonders because Percy and she were thrust back into the party at full force. She didn’t exactly remember when the blackout happened, but it was roughly thirty minutes later. She was drinking, she was dancing, she was completely making a fool out of herself. The hair? A mess. Annabeth herself? Don’t even think about it. She had been dancing with Hermes and Patroclus, Aphrodite accidentally stepped on her foot one time when Ares approached her.

Percy broke his own promise and accepted a fourth glass of wine from Dionysus who insisted on it. That glass was his doom. The last droplet touched his tongue and his world turned into a flashy mist, his consciousness was broken into pieces, fragmented and sprinkled across the floor. Where he was, when he was and who he was were things he couldn’t remember. The only thing that popped up in his mind were waves of solid gold. Was it hair? Could hair truly move like that and possess that texture? And a whiff of lemon with a hint of lavender crawled up his nose. It was an odd combination, but it felt safe and like home. He liked this smell. Where did he smell this before?

Percy didn’t care, he had other matters to attend to. The first thing on the docket was finding the bathroom, he had drunk way too much. The house had weird rules in regard to bathrooms. Was it the left side or the right side that the young men could use? Why did his uncle Hades have to break two sinks in a span of a week when he was sixteen again? Why were women and others allowed to do whatever they wanted? His great-grandma and her weird plans were always set to make him fail somehow. Things that she had thought of decades ago still bore fruit today.

Percy stumbled upstairs and turned right and prayed the doors he was opening were empty bathrooms and not relatives making out. That was just what he needed. The first door he opened was of his great-uncle Oceanus and Tethys who had a face mask on her face and pink curlers up her hair. At least the old people still knew how to behave. He hoped his mother had left the party hours ago. He apologized and closed the door. The next one was an empty bedroom, his even maybe. No, his bedroom was on an entirely different floor. Or was it?

The next bedroom was closed off thank god, but from the sounds on the inside it seemed like cousin Eos and her newest catch Orion had some fun. Disgusting, Percy thought before he moved on. The next door was what he was looking for. A bathroom. Lit up, clean and empty. Empty if it wasn’t for this one woman who was clutching the brims of the polished sink. She was tall, the golden hair equaled a rat nest and her red dress seemed to have witnessed a lot.

“Ugh,” she muttered and looked into the mirror. Her eyes found his immediately.

“Percy?” she turned around.

Oh right. He was Percy Jackson, thirty-one, single, hopefully the new CEO of Atlantic INC., he had a fantastic apartment in the Upper East Side with an amazing view and he was in Greece to impress his family with his fake fiancé in order to secure his father’s legacy. His fake fiancé being Annabeth Chase, a woman he loathed, had to pay a little hush money and hoped would leave the company fairly soon after.

“You’re in the men’s restroom,” Percy then stated.

Annabeth looked around. No, it was not the same bathroom she used in the morning. Oh yeah, Gaia’s weird bathroom rules.

“Honestly who cares?” the junior marketing manager complained. “A toilet’s a toilet, no matter who uses it.”

Percy shrugged. Annabeth had a point but it wasn’t their house so they couldn’t dictate the rules.

“I wanted to retouch my makeup, but I didn’t find my makeup bag.” She walked steadily to Percy, but it was clear to both of them that she had her fair amount of shots in her system.

“Yeah, it’s probably in the other bathroom. Wait, let me use the bathroom for a second and then we can head back to our room and you can look for your makeup.”

Annabeth nodded and waited on the outside while Percy was tending his business. After drying his hands, he opened the door and found Annabeth yawning in front of one of his yai yai’s paintings. It showed the scythe from the fireplace.

“In all honesty, your great-grandmother is an amazing woman. I admire her. Showing kindness and strength each day. How old is she?”

“Turning 106 next October,” Percy smiled at her. “She always said she wanted to live long enough to see her favorite descendants find their own happiness, whatever it may be.”

The softness in his voice made Annabeth’s heart ache. She turned her head back to the painting. She was a nobody. She had no family, no traditions she could upkeep. She didn’t even have a steady relationship in the past five years. Fucking Luke Castellan. He also had to take that from her as well. Make her suffer. That’s what Athena, Friedrich and Luke all thought at the same time. And they all had nearly reached their wicked goal if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness and will to eventually blossom into something else. The first step towards that something else resided within her move to California. She wanted to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life, somewhere where no one knew her.

A thumb brushed over her cheek. Annabeth looked up to Percy. She hadn’t even realized she was sobbing again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay,” Percy assured her. His hands found her sides, pulling her into a soft hug.

A true fiancé level hug. Annabeth had never felt that comfortable within a man’s reach. Percy might have been an awful and annoying coworker, but he truly cared about his fellow people. The way they slowly rocked and kept hugging each other reminded her of the school dance work they had put on the floor earlier. But this time it was real. This time there was no one taking pictures or yelling into their ears, or the demand to see a kiss.

Annabeth rested her face in his chest and Percy leaned his head on hers. It was like they had been made for each other. A welcoming scent greeted Percy. Lemon and lavender. The person stuck in Percy’s crumbled mind had been Annabeth. She was his anchor in the havoc his relatives had created in such a short time. He took a deeper breath. It felt reassuring.

“Did you just sniff me?” Annabeth laughed as she pulled away from him.

“You do smell good!” he defended himself with a stupid grin on his mouth.

“Oh, wait you’re super drunk,” she giggled again as she saw his widened pupils that had pushed the darkened sea-green iris away.

“Well, look at you,” he retorted.

They looked at each other. Aside from the bumping music and the noises people made downstairs it had been completely silent. He missed her warmth; she missed his comfort. Neither would have guessed that a simple embrace could offer so much. Neither would have thought they would take it to the next step within a split second.

One last look. A last time sea-green and light-gray met before each set of eyes closed and their lips met with a brutal force in the middle. Their teeth clacked but it didn’t matter to them. What mattered now, was the moment. Forgotten was the alcohol, forgotten were the troubles of past, present and future. Forgotten were the friends and relatives in the building and back in New York.

So... what do you think? 😄 Like I said, this is not the entire chapter 🤷🏾‍♀️ I honestly feel bad for cutting the chapter off because it's really getting more interesting from that point on 💁🏾‍♀️ I'll probably continue working on this once I've published the next act of The Fool 🥳

Also Greek people, if something seems off with this (aside from random English at times lol) hit me up, I definitely have to do more research!

#mel answers #pjo #percy jackson #Annabeth chase #percabeth #percabeth fanfic #may I introduce you to my beloved wife #mel writes #hoo #heroes of olympus #percy and annabeth #pjo fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians #mel spoils

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suchalonelysunflower · 3 years

Text

I gave you my heart (h.s)

Pairing: Harry Styles X Reader

Requested: Yes!

Summary: Harry is trying to propose to you, but his family is getting in the way.

Warnings: Fluff. Angst if you really pay attention. Language. Mentions of alcohol (barely) Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language, sorry!)

Word count: 4.1 K

Author’s Note: Oh how I missed writing for Harry! And a fluffy piece nonetheless! Who am I? Well, this is a Holiday fic (non specific) and I’m also planning to do a 5SOS holiday fic by the end of the year, so stay tuned! 🌻 Reblogs, comments, feedbacks and likes are welcomed and encouraged! Please, I love to hear from you guys 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋✨

My materialist // wanna be on my tag list?

Picture form Pinterest. Title from the song “last Christmas”

Ok i know this is cheesy but hear me out, Harry proposing on Christmas with his family around.

Harry kneeled in front of you. His hands were intertwined with yours as he spoke of all the grand adventures you had and how much he adores you while your eyes filled with glossy cold tears. He couldn’t see his mum from where he was, but he could already tell she started crying as well while Gemma held her in a side hug, watching the scene they never thought would happen being displayed in front of them.

Words of praise left his mouth like a symphony, knowing that he will never get tired of praising you as the angel you were. Tears started forming in his eyes as he promised you a lifetime of love and adventure, hoping with all his heart you would say yes.

They all knew the question that was going to pop out of his lips any time now.

“So, Y/N L/N” He said, as the fireworks started to go off behind them “Will you marry me?”

You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and with a smile you answered:

“You better wake up before I leave you in the car”

Harry opened his eyes in shock, cursing under his breath as he realized he had fallen asleep without realizing.

You were on your way to Anne’s house for the Holidays, just like you promised a few months ago when Harry finalized all his tour arrangements. You were very excited to see Harry’s family again, it has been a while since you got to spend any time with them as you accompanied Harry across the world for the most part of the past year. You love them with all your heart and it comforts you to know that the feeling is completely mutual - Anne practically adopting you the minute you came through the door as Harry’s partner a few years ago and Gemma quickly becoming your best friend over the span of a few minutes, bonding over clothes, movies and embarassing Harry stories.

Harry loved how much you and his family love each other, for that is all he asked. For him there are only three things that matter most: His music and his fans; His family and, of course, you. He felt really blessed to have you in his life during all these years, knowing that you love him just as much as he loves you (although he would always fight that he loves you more) You were his rock, his best friend, his world… and he cannot wait to put a rock on that hand to prove that to you.

He got the ring a few months prior, but he knew he wanted to marry you from the first moment he saw you interact with his family. He still remembers that cold December night when he came downstairs looking for you and you were sleeping on the couch next to Gemma. You have been talking all night and were exhausted by the time you both finished that bottle of wine. He stood on the entrance of the living room watching the cozy scene with a smile plastered across his face. He knew he loved you back then, but his happiness at that moment was unmatched.

He was so entranced by the picture that he didn’t notice Anne standing beside him.

“This one’s a keeper” She said in a low voice as she watched you both with tenderness in her eyes. But Harry already knew that.

And now, as you were driving the cold snowy roads of Cheshire, Harry drifted back from his fantasy waiting to come true. Thinking back and forward of the little velvet box that is hidden in his suitcase.

“Sorry,” He said with a yawn “Didn’t notice I fell asleep”

You smiled at him but kept your eyes on the road “It’s okay, love. I know you must be tired of the trip. That is why I asked you to switch seats and let me drive in the first place”

Harry stared at you for a moment, completely enamored by your thoughtfulness. He really was lucky to have you.

“Besides,” You joke “With your driving skills, we might get to Homes Chapel the day after the Holidays if we are lucky”

Harry rolled his eyes “Oh, bug off!” He said as he mocked annoyance, but his laugher soon joined yours as you continued your way towards his childhood home.

You let out a happy squeal once you noticed Anne standing in front of her house from a distance, wasting no time on parking the car so you could run up to her and hug her.

“Aww I’m so glad you’re finally here!” Said the matriarch of the Styles’ family as she crushed your body in a tight hug “I’m never letting you go a year without visiting us again!”

“It will not happen again! I promise” You answered with a laugh.

She let you go just enough so she could place her palm on your cheek, caressing it in a motherly way “You better! And in any case you could always run away from my son and come stay here for as long as you want!”

This is when Harry decided to interject. He was standing behind you, smiling at the exchange that was happening in front of him.

“Oi! No need for that now, mum”

Anne laughed as she went to hug her son, murmuring about how if he doesn’t keep an eye on you she would steal you from him without a second thought.

After a few more greetings, Anne ushered you into the house. The warm environment and the smell of a homemade meal made you feel at home.

You always loved to come and visit Harry’s childhood home. It reminded you of him, the real Harry you got to know on a more personal and deep level. The Harry that let all his walls down and let you in, welcoming you to his house, his family and friends and into his heart. The Harry you love with all your being.

“‘m gonna head and help mum with dinner” Your boyfriend said as he hung his coat by the door “You’ve been driving all day, love. You should rest”

He pressed his chest to your back and rounded his arms around your waist to hold you closer before placing a kiss to the shell of your ear. You hummed “‘m not tired. I don’t think I could rest till much later.”

“Still,” Harry said “At least try to rest? Don’t want you to feel sick and I know you’ll hate to miss all the traditions”

You sighed “At least that way I’ll get you to take care of me, right?” You smiled at him and he smiled back.

“Always, darling”

You placed a couple little chaste kisses to his lips, pulling away from his grasp before he started to try and deepend them as he always does “‘m gonna go unpack my suitcase then. Want me to unpack yours?”

Harry was about to answer when the alarms in his head went off, reminding him of the little box you should definitely not find “Uh, n-no. I have to show something to my mum” He lied “I’ll unpack my stuff later. Thank you, though”

His response got you a little confused, but you just shrug your shoulders and turned around towards the guest room, aka: Harry’s old room. Letting Harry let out a relief breath once you went out of sight. This was going to be a long holiday.

Gemma arrived later that night. She didn’t even put her luggage on the ground before she caught your eye and ran to hug you.

“Oh my god” She said, hugging you tighter “I have so much to tell you!”

“Oh sure,” Harry said, walking towards her as she almost left you out of breath “I’m just your brother who you haven’t seen in a long time… Why should I get a hug?”

The older Styles rolled her eyes “Because I see you in every social media post there is you dork! Besides, I have had Y/N in my life rather recently compared to living with you under the same roof for almost seventeen years”

Harry placed his hand over his heart and mocked a hurt expression, making his sister laugh before she moved on to wrap him into a hug.

“I missed you, you wanker” She said, hiding some love in the insult.

“Me too, jerk”

“But I missed Y/N more” She said with a grin, pulling away from Harry and turning back to you. Intertwining your arms so you’d walk together into the living room “So, I was telling you…”

Hours flew by and before you’d realized it was almost 2 am when you and Gemma made your ways to your respected rooms. You noticed that Harry went to bed a little earlier and you guessed he would be asleep by now.

You found your boyfriend safe and tucked away in dreams once you opened the door. You smiled to yourself as you admired his sleeping figure sprawled all over the bed with one arm spread over your side, waiting for you to cuddle up against it.

A yawn flew through you as the exhaustion of the day settled in. You quickly changed into your cozy pajamas, did your nighttime routine and layed in bed next to Harry, who, as soon as he felt you by his side, pulled your body closer to him.

“Hi” He said in a whisper, kissing the shell of your ear.

“I thought you were sleeping, H” You giggled as you felt his hand caress your side.

“Couldn’t sleep well without you, you know that”

And indeed you did. Harry always complained whenever he was on tour that he missed you too much and that he needed you even more “I just feel better when I’m with you, love. I do better. It’s like you are my lucky charm or something” He’d always said before he convinced you to travel the world with him. And, to be honest, you did not need that much convincing. If you could spend all your living days with Harry, you would.

“Wha’ time is it anyways?” He asked.

“Late” You shrugged, turning your body so you were facing him “I’m sorry. We didn’t realize we spent all night talking”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows “Why are you apologizing for? I love when you spend time with my family”

“But I almost didn’t spend time with you!”

Harry chuckled “It’s okay, love. I know how my mum and sister can get whenever you are around. They love you almost as much as I do”

“Well, Gemma did say she loved me more....” You teased, making Harry scoff.

“Not possible” He pressed his lips to yours, trying to make your worry disappear “‘m serious, though. Don’t be sorry for spending too much time with them. I swear it 's fine. We could have time for ourselves at any point of the Holiday”

You murmured a soft ‘okay’ before drifting into a peaceful sleep. Harry watched you sleep for a few minutes, taking in the joyful peace that your presence gifted to him whenever you were around. Thinking about how he cannot wait to make you an official Styles.

However, that was not going to be an easy job.

As the day passed, you and Harry had less and less time for yourselves as Anne and Gemma got you two completely busy with different activities. From getting the groceries, to help one of them decorate the house or even to just take a walk. You were never not doing something.

And it wasn’t like a bad thing either. On the contrary, you were having the time of your life sharing all of these amazing traditions with Harry’s family. They made you feel welcome and cared for, something that was fairly new to you since you met Harry.

You loved decorating the House and baking cookies with Anne, and it felt so great to have a friend like Gemma around to take the seriousness out of a serious situation and just let you have your fun. But you would be lying if you’d say that you don’t miss your boyfriend.

Even though Harry was always just mere feet from you, he was also caught up in various activities and could barely spend any time with you and that was making him frustrated.

The Holidays were stressful enough, but for Harry this took a whole other level when he thought about the proposal and how many times he failed at getting you two alone so he could do it.

The first miss opportunity came when it started snowing the day after your arrival. He knew how much you loved snow because, in your own words, it made it all seem magical. So when he woke up early that day, he decided that now was the time and that he was ready to pop up the big question. He was going to ask you to play in the snow - just like you usually do - and make a snowman. But the surprise would come with the ring that would be on the snowman’s finger, ready to be placed on your hand if you said yes. Sadly, when you two got ready to go and play, Anne solicited yours and Harry’s help to go and take some food to the shelter that was not so far away from here, a tradition the Styles’ family have been doing since Harry was a baby. When you came back, most of the snow had melted and you were too tired to even think of going outside again.

The second time Harry’s plan got held up was on a frosty night. He had prepared a cozy inside picnic in front of the fireplace for only you and him. He knew that Anne would be out with some of her friends and that Gemma had plans to meet up with someone on a date, so they wouldn’t be able to interrupt in any way. He got a bottle of wine, a charcuterie board, some chocolate covered strawberries, a fluffy blanket and some candles to light up the dark room. He also made you change in your pajamas so you’ll be even more comfortable during the date. Everything went according to plan, his hand almost reaching for the velvet box he hid under one of the couch’s cushions when Gemma came early from her date, completely ruining the moment as she came into the room fuming because she got stood up. Needless to say he did not propose that night.

Harry was convinced that the third time was the charm. Since it was obvious he couldn’t propose in the house without being rudely interrupted every time, he was going to take you out for lunch and then go ice skating, one of your favorite winter activities. Yes, he was aware that it wasn’t his most elaborated plans, but he didn’t know what to do. Plus, he had talked to the owner of the ice skating pit beforehand, asking him to please let them have at least one hour of privacy so he could propose in peace. The owner even promised him to play the playlist Harry made for you and to add some special lightning to make the moment more romantic.

Feeling excited, Harry ran down the stairs to give you the news of your date. But his face fell when he saw you getting ready to go out with Gemma and his mum.

“Are you going out?” He asked as he saw you put on your coat.

“Yes,” You answered with a smile, but that smile soon felt when you saw the disappointment in Harry’s eyes “Your mum asked me and Gemma to go for a last minute shopping run… Harry are you okay, love?”

Your boyfriend closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he acquired whenever he was frustrated “‘m perfect” He mumbled, turning around to go back to your shared room.

But you were quicker as you grabbed him softly by the arm to make him stop in his tracks. Slowly making him turn around so he was face to face with you “Don’t lie, H. What is going on?”

“‘m just,” He started, but he couldn’t even look you in the eyes as he tried to find the right words to say to you, almost feeling like he is failing you somehow “We never got the chance to spend some time together, Y/N. You are always busy or I am always busy with my mum or with Gemma that I almost didn’t see you this whole trip and I-I just miss you”

Your eyes softened and your heart fluttered with his words. You missed him too, much more than you could say. Everytime you find some time for yourselves you get interrupted and by the end of the day you are both too tired to do anything else besides sleeping. You could tell Harry was frustrated by this whole ordeal, you just didn’t imagine it would affect him this much.

You cupped his cheek and brought him into a sweet kiss “I miss you too, love. Very much” You watched how Harry’s green eyes softened, but they still held an unspoken sadness “If you want me to stay with you, then I’ll stay with you. I don’t need to go with them, you know?”

Harry sighed, placing his hand over yours and caressing it with his thumb “I know” He said as he gave a kiss to your palm “You know how much I love seeing you hanging out with them and I know how much you enjoy it. You should go”

“But Harry-”

“Go, have fun!” He said in a cheerful tone as he brought you closer to give you a hug “I’ll be fine, love. I just want you to remember this Holiday and to enjoy it as much as you can”

“Are you sure? Because I can stay if you-”

“‘m sure,” He smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead, “Go, darling. They must be waitin’”

You smiled back at him and pecked his lips before turning around and closing the front door. Missing for just a second the way Harry’s smile dropped as he saw his plan being shut down once again.

He wasn’t proud of his last resort. He knew you deserved an epic proposal, something that could come out from an Oscar winning movie. Something that was as special as you are. And he was beating himself for ruining every chance he’s got to do this properly, but he promised himself that he would not let you - nor him - return home without a shiny rock on your hand. And a Styles never backs down from a promise.

So, with his heart almost beating out of his chest, he placed the gift bag with the other gifts that adorned the living room. Everything will be done tomorrow and there is no turning back now. It was now or never.

The next morning, you found yourself caught up in another Styles’ tradition. You were all sitting in the living room wearing your coziest pajamas as you drank hot cocoa and ate some gingerbread cookies with a pinch of peppermint. It was almost time to open the presents and you could tell Harry was feeling rather anxious.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked as you curreled up to him on the couch that was facing Anne and Gemma, who were already starting to distribute the presents among you.

Harry hummed as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, turning his face so he was looking at you. He could swear in that moment that he has never seen someone as beautiful as you right now as you watched him with doe eyes, your hair a little bit messy and a thin layer of chocolate decorating your upper lip. He was completely and utterly in love with you.

“Yeah, why’d you ask?”

You shrugged “You were tossing and turning a lot last night, almost like you were nervous or something. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Harry smiled “I got you, don’t I? How could anything not be alright?”

You rolled your eyes at his cheesy remark, but quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek. Harry didn’t miss the way your cheeks blushed.

“I asked Anne and Gemma to give us a day for ourselves” You said after a moment. Harry looked at you surprised. You couldn't know..? “I told them I felt guilty that I haven’t spent any time with you since we arrived and they understood” You smiled at him “I got you all for myself today, mr. Styles”

Harry’s eyes filled with glee as he brought your lips to him, kissing you with all the love he could pour at the moment.

“Uh, mum?” Gemma’s voice interrupted the scene “I don’t think this is mine” She said as she opened a gift bag.

“No? It’s a jewelry bag so I thought-”

Gemma shook her head “No! This is definitely not for me” She said as she took the little velvet box from inside, making the room go completely quiet. In that moment, all eyes went to Harry as he watched the scene with horror.

“Oh shit” He said, untangling himself form you so he could grab the box from his sister’s hand “Actually, this is mine”

All three of you stayed quiet as he grabbed your hand and kneeled in front of your sitting figure on the sofa.

“Oh my god” You said, covering your mouth that almost fell to the ground because of the shock.

“Oh my god” Gemma and Anne said in unison as they realized what was happening in front of them.

“Y/N,” Harry said looking into your eyes “Let me start by saying that this is not how things were supposed to go. And I’m not just talking about my sister opening your gift. I’ve been trying to propose for as long as this Holiday lasted. Waiting for the perfect moment because you are my perfect half, my soulmate and you deserve nothing less than pure and utter perfection, my love. And I’m sorry I can’t give that to you now”

You could feel the tears pouring down your face since the moment he kneeled in front of you, but hearing Harry say that he wanted to propose all along made you cry harder, how did you get so lucky?

“I knew I had to do this here, for this is the place where I knew I wanted to marry you the first time we came to visit. I have loved you from the very first moment you said hello, and I knew from that instant that you were going to become my favorite hello and my most painful goodbye. Y/N you are magic, my love. My lucky charm. Everything I do, everything I say or think or sing is for and because of you. You are my muse and my best friend. My anchor and my wings. I cannot live without you nor do I ever want to. You have bewitched me body and soul and I love you. I love you. I love you”

You could hear the distant sobs of Anne in the background, but all you could see was Harry. Harry, your best friend and lover. Harry, the person who filled your life with love and light. Harry, who was now on one knee, with tears in his eyes and a ring on his hand. Harry. Harry. Harry.

“You don’t have to say yes, but I really hope that you do. Y/N, my love. I love you more than life itself, you have made me a better man by loving me the way that you do. Let me love you the same now and forever. Will you marry me?”

You nodded through the tears “Yes, Harry. A million times yes!”

You swore Harry’s smile could light up the world in that moment as he slid the ring down your finger. But you didn’t even look as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him like his mum and sister weren’t watching, throwing the both of you to the floor.

Anne and Gemma started clapping, celebrating the new beginning of the young couple. Because these holidays had a new meaning now, since now and forever they will be remembered as the day you said “yes” to the love of your life.

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @multistann @mystic-232

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keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

pretty eyes & starshine: iii

(Mostly SFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i || part ii || part iii (epilogue)

word count: ~2.2k

Nothing ever really ends. It just grows in different ways with different parts.

warnings: description of post-injury, reader and hawks being traumatized but coping, a soft epilogue

the ending folks :’^) thank you for reading this far. here is something gentle for all of us, with some future, past, and the present for sweet starshine and keigo :’^)

enjoy loves 💞!!

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Keigo doesn’t break promises.

He loves white lies, the silly kind where he can rib you for a minute or two before soothing any ruffled feathers with quick kisses. He never leaves big wounds, nothing gaping or jagged, just loving pokes in your sides to get you to laugh and quip back at him.

He never goes back on his words that count.

His journeys out of the house remain short and rarely surprising. He never leaves without a goodbye, whether that’s a sleepy fuck or two, or a hand-written, tooth-rotting note on a scrap of paper next to a steaming cup of coffee on the kitchen island.

Keigo’s used to the open skies, rolling forever. The curve of the horizon is his primordial friend that he never got to say goodbye to, but he still chases it a few times a week. Little drives he takes by himself, hikes, and things that he let him feel a bit of that free wind in his shaggy hair.

It takes you a while, but you don’t look forlornly at the door anymore.

The awareness that of his absence from your little bastion lingers as you move throughout your day, but you know he’s good for his word. He always returns, bearing a toothy grin, and usually an armload of snacks or takeout.

It’s better, and you’re both a bit more alive.

...

Spring in the mountains reminds you of something you can’t place.

The memory of it is foggy, far-off and untouched. Probably a bit dampened from, you know, a year of trauma, but the feeling of it makes your quirk burst to light without fail.

It comes when you notice the little patches of wildflowers that spring up in new grass that rings around the porch. Heat flares in your eyes when you see the little seedlings you and Keigo planted into the window boxes begin to bud and flower.

The days get longer, sweeter, and the summer comes easily.

...

The bad days never cease, but you both learn to cope to some degree.

Your scar... cracks one day. You’re doing some half-assed stretches in the living room (mostly arching your back so Keigo gets a good peek of your ass) when it happens. Your right leg bends at the knee, and a resounding ‘crack’ and shatter echo off the walls of the cabin.

You both panic.

Keigo instantly urges you on the couch, trying to soothe your own panic with little coos from the back of his throat. You feel numb as Keigo shoves up your pant leg, looking for any damage.

The scar looks relatively unchanged. It hasn’t writhed since your days at the hospital, and its edges have only faded a shade or two with time. It’s long, obtrusive, and something you still avoid looking at.

All the same, Keigo traces the gnarly flesh, nimble fingers searching for the source of the sound. Any bit of pain he can identify and soothe, ideally, remove. The pads of his fingers drift to the crook of your knee, pressing against the shiny, black seam of the scar.

His eyes go wide before awe shines through, without a lick of fear.

He warns you to take a deep breath, ‘breath with him’, before pinching at the glassy center and pulling. There’s a bit of resistance as he pulls, you’re not sure what he’s doing, and you see ‘it’ before you really put it together.

Keigo holds ‘it’ up for you to see.

The inky glass of the scar.

Literal rock. Inky obsidian pulled from your flesh, about the size of your pinky and painfully jagged.

“W-what is that?” You asked, grabbing his wrist to examine the bit. “That’s... the scar?”

Keigo nods his head, scrutinizing it with you, pinching at it, “Weirdest scab I’ve ever seen.”

Scab.

You have never thought about calling the ugly root of the scar a ‘scab’ but looking at the way it so easily was pulled away, it makes sense. After a bit of examination and tender prodding, the tissue around it looks healthy, albeit thick and burned. The scar goes deep into your flesh, feels raw to the touch, but the skin that’s beneath it is somewhat alive. Maybe too alive, given how sensitive it is.

Nonetheless, you marvel at the little piece of volcanic glass that Keigo had pulled from you like it’s the most precious stone in the world.

...

It takes a long time to convince both of you.

Keigo never receives another call from Suits, ‘president’, what the fuck her name is. Thank fucking god. His snap seemed to have scared her and her crumbling organization away. You can only hope that it was for good.

The potential return comes from kindness rather than demands.

Calls from both Endeavor and Miruko, ‘Enji’ and ‘Rumi’ as they insist you call them. Rumi chatters on the phone for hours with Keigo every few weeks, puts the phone on speaker, and has you give your piece as well. You like her, she’s funny and loud and Keigo smiles when he talks to her.

Enji actually visits.

Once or twice, maybe more. You stop counting when the extra bodies in the cabin don’t have you breaking into a cold sweat anymore. It had taken a great bit of coaxing, but you opened your cabin up for the former pro and his entourage.

He brings along his daughter and the ‘Three Musketeers,’ as the media calls them. The boys train in the mountains nearby, never lingering too far based on the shouting from the blond one that echoes against the hills.

The rest of you settle into the walls of the cabin whenever they come to visit. It feels warmer than normal; it makes sweat gather under your arms and in droplets on your forehead. Even if you wanted to attribute the heat to the old flame hero’s presence, it wouldn’t account entirely for your thumping heart.

You work through it, slowly.

You like watching Keigo and Enji. They both look worn. Keigo’s a bit too young for grey hair, but Enji has more than his fair share around his temples. The beard around his jaw glints silver in the lowlight of the cabin whenever he tilts his head to sip at his tea.

They smile like old friends, talk like it too.

You end up in the kitchen a lot during their talks, distantly cooking and observing. You’re always listening to their stories, the banter. It’s hard to keep up with, a lingering vestige of Keigo’s old persona that clings to him and his mannerisms.

You don’t mind it, even if it feels foreign.

...

“Can you pass me that honey, dear?” Fuyumi asks, voice sweet and close.

You nod, sliding her the jar across the corner top. She carefully spoons a glob of the thick liquid into the four waiting mugs, humming just under her breath.

The cabin feels warm, and it’s not just the ambient heat Enji gives off.

The ‘three musketeers’ plan to camp in the mountainside and ‘rough it’. You couldn’t imagine the freshly-greened hills giving them too much trouble. They bicker, you have found, constantly. Blunt jabs from Enji’s son, met by explosive remarks from the blond one (why is his hero name so long? You can never remember it well.) Consider your growing aversion to loud noise, you like Deku the best. He seems like the peacekeeper (and peacemaker) of the trio and compliments your cooking. What a gem.

The guest room has been polished into an actual guest room. Fuyumi takes it, and Enji, bless his heart, takes the creaky fold-out couch. He doesn’t mind, he tells you, something about enjoying tending to the hearth at night.

Keigo calls the nights where they fill the house ‘sleepovers’, and he adores them.

They’re a bit overwhelming for you if you’re being honest. But Enji is far less intimidating now that you’ve seen him nodding off and slack-faced on your couch. Fuyumi has patience you’ll never fully understand, and babies you a bit, which you don’t welcome but don’t refuse either.

She does just that, scooping up three mugs after pushing your own toward you. You regather and sit next to Keigo at the kotatsu, slipping your legs under the thick blanket and sagging with the heat. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he presses you into his side, pressing a few kisses to the top of your head. It’s an idle action, habitual and welcomed as the conversation flows.

(Something about one of Keigo’s old sidekicks. Another about Endeavor’s agency, still chugging along with him at the helm, albeit not as an active hero. The new hero charts, the new rules established, legislation. Things are getting... safer, a semblance of order being re-established now that much of the League has been apprehended.)

(Things are settling, as horrifying as the change is.)

The thought of so much makes you sleepy, long-standing exhaustion heavy in your bones. You nod off at some point to the kind, safe voices.

Keigo coaxes you awake once the conversation dies down.

“Love,” he purrs, rubbing your side, “let’s get up now and get you to bed.”

You follow him, the way he rises and guides you to the bathroom to help you ready for bed. Enji is settling on the couch, tugging a few throws over himself on the futon. You give him a shallow wave with half-lidded eyes, meeting his own.

Eye contact feels hard, but you manage to hold it for a few seconds.

In the bathroom, you pop onto the counter and slowly brush your teeth. Sleep clings to you, and you know it’ll return quickly, but the process of moving and interacting wears you down so easily. Your toothbrush almost slips from your grip.

“Just a little more, and then you can rest, dove,” Keigo urges, reverent as he finishes his own routine in tandem. You watch as he splashes water on his face, wetting the tufts of hair that fall around his face.

The cabin feels warmer.

You notice it as you enter the bedroom, Keigo already hopping into bed to assemble the ‘nest’ as both affectionately refer to it. The old throw, a few extra soft blankets, and a buttery soft duvet must be arranged just right before he is satisfied.

Keigo knows it’s a remnant.

He carries plenty of them, little chunks of him that are old and worn, old and unused. He can shake them, can’t bury them, they just simply are.

The birdish ones are nice, he thinks. He likes that he can preen you. He loves that you can preen him. That you’ll indulge him in that way, running your hands through his overgrown hair. You detangle any knots, soothe the snarls and rub at his neck until he’s liquid in your lap.

He likes nesting. The cold of the cabin can be almost forgotten in the little nests he makes. The mountains of bedding and pillows that you both can settle in. It’s peaceful, and it's shared, and things are okay.

It’s all slow, and a bit tedious, things that the remnants of ‘Hawks’ scream and thrash at. But, really? Keigo has no reason to listen to a ghost. He tries not to let himself be haunted.

He indulges himself for the first time in his life, probably.

As Keigo nestles you into the sheets beside him, he gives you a bit of room to get comfortable. Adjusts your pillows how you like, tangle your legs together in the comfiest way. Your own version of nesting that makes his palms sweat and his words turn to mush.

You settle together, chest to chest, Keigo’s chin hooked over the top of your head.

“Did you have a good day?” You ask, soft and sleepy.

Keigo nods easily, “I did. Enji doesn’t seem to quite as much of a square as he was a few years ago.”

You snort, muffling a giggle into his chest, “He’s definitely a little bit of a square. But I like him.”

“He offered to host us at the estate if we ever want to go back.”

You swallow, thick and slow, and try to bury yourself deeper in him, “... Do you want to go back?”

“No.” He pauses. “Maybe. Not yet, and not anytime soon. But the offer is on the table. It’s nice to have, even if we don’t take it.”

It’s insurance, somewhere else to tuck yourselves away if the mountains stop favoring you.

The thought of the future makes your head spin, as it tends to. The scar aches, but maybe it’s a tad duller than it was a few months ago. The pains only last a few moments, only stab so deeply. The place where the little chunk of obsidian fell out doesn’t feel quite as tender.

You lay your cheek on Keigo’s chest, your breath coming in time with his.

“‘M tired,” You murmur into his chest. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course, starshine.” He pushes back your hair, clears your forehead to press his lips to the skin, lightly. Little kisses piling up on top of each other. “Get some rest.”

“You too, pretty eyes.”

You both need it. For more than just a day with the folks who stuck around. You and Keigo need more rest than a being can responsibly accumulate during a human life. There are things to be stitched, worn parts of you that need tending to, and burns that’ll need salve until the day you die. It’s not any less than it was in the month’s past.

But it’s easier to manage.

You snuggle into Keigo’s chest, drifting off to the thought of fresh coffee and crackling heat.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

thank you for reading!!💞

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #my hero academia #mha fanfic #mha x reader #hawks imagines #wow :'^)#thank y'all for reading

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul -- 8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon.

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner.

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks.

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile.

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease.

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.”

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic.

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night.

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement.

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm.

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you.

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?”

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her.

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers.

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

----

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!”

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute.

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart.

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again.

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight.

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number.

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts.

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.”

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above.

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder.

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat.

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it.

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers.

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips.

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you.

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house.

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice.

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs.

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio."

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house.

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself.

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her.

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out.

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit.

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy.

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note.

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know.

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

----- La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make.

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away.

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would.

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake.

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself.

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone.

“Come downstairs, please.”

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way.

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left.

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.”

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.”

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her.

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out.

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head.

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies.

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them.

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet.

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…”

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say no to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

knight!natasha x lady!reader

sort of royalty au (there’s social hierarchy and a king and queen and knights and commoners and all that so- yeah it’s a royalty au nvm lmao)

warnings: this is fluff, angst, uh, basically everything but smut and serious angst.

word count: 2.5k, starting off short before we get into this

part one!

also, to the very few people who look for fics up here- i promise i’m alive, sorry for being m.i.a! work and school are bodying me right now

A lot could change within a year.

In a year, one was expected to grow wiser and older, and for you, because you were a woman, prettier. And because you did all three of those things in one year, you were herded off like cattle from your small farm, where the old pig you would soon be forced to call “husband” had seen you in the first place, and carted away to his large estate. You were supposed to be his wife, bear his children, and love him unconditionally even though you knew nothing about him, and he was supposed to do not even half of that for you. He had chosen you purely because your father had an abundance of wheat and animals, and he thought you were nice looking. He would surely never go hungry if he had the owner of a relatively large farm’s daughter with him.

Regardless of his reasoning for wanting to make you his wife, it ended up happening. You cried yourself to sleep the night before, and when you were done consummating the horrid marriage, you cried after he fell asleep, unable to shut your own eyes. That was how you spent your first night at the female counterpart to your lord husband, and as Lady Mirellis.

The marriage was loveless. The only thing you got out of it was a nice roof over your head and some silky clothing that made you feel like you were betraying who you really were. He was a brute and a pig, and he hardly ever spoke to you other than to tell you to get on your back, your knees, or something else as equally vile. You were the lady of his large manor, considered a small castle, but that was all you were. You made friends with the staff around, and that made things just the tiniest bit better. He was still cruel and crude, still insanely aggravating, and getting more and more angry with each month that you weren’t carrying his child.

And then, all of a sudden, he grew ill. And, within a month after he fell ill, he died. And then you were a single woman who had a large estate to her name, and a growing line of suitors who wanted nothing more than to have their last names attached to the great patch of land. You were the lady of the house without a lord, still young and still capable of marriage. After a large fuss over whether or not a young woman from your background was fit to take over, you had inherited everything.

So, yes, a lot could change in a year. And you decided that the changes that took place in that year were ones that you could barely handle.

§§

You knew exactly what the letter with the King’s Seal on it was when it was put into your hand, and you very easily guessed the contents of it.

You supposed that you should have seen it coming. Miraculously, your late husband and lord had gotten out of the Hosting, which could have been seen as treasonous or dishonorable if he had been any less careful. You grew up on a farm, and you had no idea how to go about denying or questioning royal decree, so you weren’t going to. You were going to have to Host, for the first time in your life.

Your family was never important enough to have to do it, so you had no experience with it, other than knowing that a high up lord of a small castle, or big estate, whatever one wanted to call it, was in charge of having a knight in their home while the knight completed his year long training. The training was said to come from within, and the job of the knight was to be a good, honorable guest, and to come back to the castle after their year expired as a new and improved person.

But it was rare that they truly soul searched, you had heard. Mainly because they were ninety nine percent male and thought with their penises more than their brains and hearts. The Hosting was a knight’s last stop before true knighthood, more or less a time that humbled young knights. It was a test of the true intentions of a knight, the true desires of a man who wished for glory and authority.

“For you, Milady.” You grimaced inwardly at the title, the title that you used to have to call the lady that you used to bring barrels of hay to on Sunday mornings. You nodded at the young boy, a smile on your face. He was new, and it was clear that this was his first task that involved him to speak to a “higher up” person.

You patted his head. “Thank you,” you said, and his eyes widened comically before he laughed and ran away, obviously shocked by the way you spoke to him back.

It wasn’t against the law, but it was frowned upon for nobles to speak to servants more than necessary. A noble person was not required to have manners or ask kindly for things, and when they did, it was certainly an out of the ordinary experience. You knew that well enough.

You broke the red seal and took in a deep breath, going to sit at your late husband’s desk (that you of course inherited, as you inherited everything the man had) and finding your name in perfect and Royal handwriting.

Lady Mirellis,

As you know, the time for the selection of The Hosting has come. Your house was not a host during the previous Hosting, therefore, you will be required to sponsor a knight this year. Out of respect for your late husband and all he has done for me, I will choose a knight for you, a knight that I trust. You will be safe with my choice, and the year will flow smoothly. Once again, I am sorry for your loss.

Please expect your knight within the fortnight, Lady Mirellis.

With respect, King Anthony Stark.

§§

Two weeks later, your keep was buzzing. You hated hosting things, even if they were short dinners. And you knew that you were going to hate hosting a person for an entire year. A brand new knight who was full of himself, no less.

King Anthony had given you what he thought was going to be an easy charge for a reason. New knights were known for being rowdy, disgusting, perverted, and authoritative when they shouldn’t have been. No lady should ever have to deal with the crude words or behavior of a man—certainly not. And with you and your poor husband gone, that meant that no one was there to help you.

You appreciated the kindness, but it was obvious that every man thought that women were only an extension of their husbands. If you weren’t able to handle the loud voices and taunting shouts of men and boys, you would have melted or turned to dust by the time you were thirteen years old. If you had survived a man who carted you off and away from your family like you were cattle, you could handle a boy who was staying under your roof.

Nonetheless, your people were busy, and so were you. They were making accommodations to the largest guest room, because it was to be someone’s for an entire year. They were cleaning things that you never thought would be cleaned, washing random sheets and hanging them to dry. And you? You were making the welcoming package.

You had never made one before, but you were trying your hardest. It was more or less a care package to make the knight feel comfortable. It was a starter kit, so that they wouldn’t have to ask for much or seem unfit for knighthood, because it was all about pride. So help anyone above, you wouldn’t be dealing with a knight with a bruised ego.

“Men,” you scoffed out, rolling your eyes as you fluffed the silk pillowcase and folded the top of the woven basket over, closing in everything and tying the top with a bow.

“Y/N,” a woman’s voice called out, and you turned to it with a gentle smile.

Of course it was Wanda. Her and her brother were always by your side, ever since you had arrived at the keep. Pietro was the messenger boy for Lord Mirellis, because he was so fast on his feet. He delivered a message meant to go hundreds of leagues away and came back within days, when it would take others weeks. You liked Pietro a lot. He was a funny man, cheeky, but he knew his boundaries with people, whether they were lowborn or highborn. He had the same amount of respect for everything, and you admired that about him.

Wanda however, was your favorite person in the castle. She was the first kind face that you saw when you walked into the keep. She was the first person to actually ask you if you wanted help being dressed or brushing your hair. She was able to see that you needed help with your corset before you even asked. There were so many trivial things that Wanda did for you that made you so loyal to the friendship you shared, but there was one thing you were sure to never forget.

She had been the one to help you out of bed after a rough consummation night. She was also the only woman who had offered you even a sliver of sympathy, and for that, she was your greatest ally, and on a deeper level, a true friend.

You had barely even seen her for more than five minutes before you woke up in bed by yourself the morning after that horrid night, crying silent tears and feeling sore between your legs. A knock sounded on the door, and instead of her turning away and apologizing for coming in on such an improper moment, she shut the door and asked you if you needed help, without any fear of being scolded. Wanda Maximoff was different. That’s why you liked her so much.

She was standing beside you as you waited, even though waiting for a knight was somewhat improper. You were supposed to wait inside and have them knock on your castle door, and you were to welcome them inside and have a warm dinner ready. That was how it was always supposed to go, but you decided not to do that.

You were standing outside, like the lady you had been forced to become. Your chin was slightly lifted and your hands were at your sides, even though you were desperate to fiddle with your thumbs. You took in a deep breath as you heard the sound of a carriage coming, horses and the chatter of men getting louder with each passing moment.

You would be a liar if you said that you weren’t scared to have a man in your house that you didn’t know. Not only would he be a man, but he would be a man that knew how to do things that most didn’t, such as how to properly wield a sword. You were a woman alone, a widow to a lord, and people had tried things with you before, ever since your husband had died. Most of the time, those things ended up with their hands being cut off as the legal and unyielding punishment for their attempted crimes.

“No one here is going to let a stupid knight hurt you, you know.” Pietro had come out of nowhere, chest puffed out as he looked to his sister for a moment, and then back at you. “Wanda is practically with you every second of every day, and I’m never too far.” It was true. There were guards around, as well, but you were still scared.

“If you don’t like it this year, you can always say no next year.” Wanda offered, but you whined under your breath when you remembered that this was no visit. The man would be living with you for an entire year. “And King Anthony said he would be giving you a man he trusted to sleep under your roof. I trust his word.”

“As do I,” you said quickly, ringing out your hands one last time before the carriage got closer. “I’ll be fine, you two. Thank you.” And they knew just how grateful you were for them.

The carriage was being pulled by two white horses, both looking around carelessly and cluelessly as the coachman pulled them to a stop. “Lady Mirellis,” he said, looking you up and down, clearly judging you for not yielding to tradition. “It is very kind of you to meet us outside.”

“I thought it may be easier to begin the tour early,” you said, remembering at the last moment to school your voice into sounding ladylike. The stark difference between your public voice and the one that you spoke to Wanda and Pietro with always made Wanda smile a bit, and you knew that you would have laughed if you were looking at her. “I don’t want to give my new guest too large of a culture shock. I am not quite sure if he would appreciate being hoarded inside a place he hasn’t seen before.”

The coachman gave you an odd look, almost like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. Or maybe, why you were saying it. But, he knew that because of your status, your word outweighed his, and he would do as you said. Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest as you watched him climb out of his chair and walk around, and you saw his hand wrap around the handle of the white and gold carriage.

There was a flash of brilliant red. That was all you saw at first, and then you saw shiny armor, glinting in the sun. Your eyes trailed up from the shoes that you knew were crafted specifically for knights, up to the legs and then to the breastplate, which you noticed was curved outwards. Your brows furrowed as your eyes got stuck in that place, and you willed yourself to believe that it was a trick of the eyes. There was a pinch on your arm, and you realized that you had been staring without speaking for much too long. In your embarrassment, your eyes flickered up to meet the man’s, and then, you nearly choked.

The knight was no man at all.

*****

so this is a series! this idea has been cooking up in my head for a while now, and i figured it was finally time to go through with it! i’m really excited about this one, and i’ve already got most of it planned out. i hope you guys liked this!

also- if you would like to be tagged, you are free to ask! (bold of me to assume that any of y’all want a notif for this bye 😭) please interact with this if you liked it, it makes me so happy and motivated to hear from you guys!

#natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanov fluff #natasha romanov x reader #knight au #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #my fics #natasha romanoff series #knight!natasha #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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