#but i spent a silly amount of time on this to not post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inuyashaluver · 3 months

Note

hi hi hi I love your fics. I was wondering if you could more grace clinton. maybe about a new years kiss?? <33 also I love the way you add the social media posts very nice touch!!

happy new year - grace clinton

grace clinton x reader

description: in which you and your best friend don’t have anyone to kiss for new years, a friendly kiss won’t hurt, right?

warnings: long!! a little swearing

a/n: my love! you’re so sweet, thank you so much for the kindness and your request, enjoy ❤️ media posts till i DIEE, also can we tell i get to requests late HAHAHHA

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

since the day you and your best friend, grace, met, she has always been your go to person. you and grace had a bond that people could only dream about, radiating love, warmth and respect.

the two of you were truly a dynamic duo, stuck together like glue. unfortunately for the both of you, in a platonic way, something you both unknowingly wanted to progress further into something more.

it’s been that way since you were both 12, the best of friends through thick and thin. the bond between the two of you was very special, everyone could tell.

specifically through the way you both could laugh at anything and everything. the ability to be serious yet silly all at the same time.

sharing your stupid little inside jokes that had you both cackling while everyone shrugged around you because they really didn’t understand the joke. it was soulmate energy, affection begging to be shown between the two of you.

no one really understood you like grace did and vice versa. you truly brought out the best in each other, both on and off the pitch. it was honestly quite concerning how the two of you didn’t realise the amount of mutual infatuation you had for each other.

especially since you lived together, played in all the same clubs, spent each and every minute of everyday with each other, yet the confessions were never verbalised.

the amount of times the two of you had been ‘subtly’ told by your teammates that you both liked each other was unnerving. both of you dismissing it.

in your case, you were terrified to say something, the time didn’t feel right. you and grace had just been called up to the senior england team, both of your seasons at the spurs was going well, you didn’t want to jeopardise anything, you couldn’t afford to lose grace.

in grace’s case, she was also terrified, she could never really confirm whether your affection towards her was strictly platonic or not, you were notorious for being one of the kindest people in the world, you were incredibly affectionate, she truly believed you only viewed her as a friend.

oh how the two of you were just plain wrong. you’re absolutely perfect for each other.

—

grace was scrambling around your shared flat, huffing out in frustration when she couldn’t find her left boot. you both had to leave for training in 5 minutes.

“love, have you seen my boot anywhere?” she yells out, now for some reason throwing all the pillows off the couch.

you come into the room with a concerned expression, holding back a laugh at an annoyed grace laying on her stomach with her phone light shining under the couch.

“gracie” you call out, holding the boot in your hand with a cheeky grin. she whips her head towards you, letting out a sigh of relief and hurrying up towards you.

“you’re a lifesaver” she breathes out, grabbing the back of your head and placing a kiss on the top of it before she rushes back to her room.

your cheeks flush instantly and you have to fan yourself to calm down, moving to grab some pre-made smoothies from your fridge for the car ride, pressing them against your cheeks.

you sling your bag over your shoulder and wait for grace by the door, she was always the late one out of the two of you. she comes out with a smile, a little puffed out from all the hustle and bustle.

she takes one of the cups from you, also taking your bag off your shoulder and putting it on hers, “gracie,” you groan, ready to tell her you can carry your own bag.

she looks over her shoulder at you, winking when she caught your eye, “shh, let gracie help you, love” she mocks and shuts you up, making you shake your head fondly as she walks you out to her car.

when you’re both situated in your seats, grace wordlessly hands you the aux cord, sending you a gentle grin as your fingers brushed hers as you took it.

whatever song you played, grace made an effort to add it to her secret playlist dedicated to you, learning all the songs on there off by heart so she could scream the lyrics with you.

you and grace both entered the spurs training facility with bright grins, laughing loudly with each other as you stumble through the door, unaware the social media team was filming a little project at the moment.

“our dynamic duo, what’s on your lockscreen?” she said, you and grace simmer down your giggles, taking your phones out and showing them to the camera.

“this is a picture of grace being an idiot” you chuckle, saying it while directly looking at her, she sticks her tongue out and puts her phone in front of yours, “here’s a photo of (y/n) being an idiot” she parrots cheekily, making you laugh when you see the photo.

you both wave to the camera and grace slings her arm over your shoulder, still carrying yours and hers bags when you enter the change rooms.

the comments on that video had everyone going insane, there was always the common debate about yours and grace’s relationship, considering how close the two of you were.

—

there were so many instances where you and grace were obviously in love, not uncommon in your day to day life.

you were both walking out to the pitch for training, grace telling you a story that had you laughing brightly, only becoming worse when she would keep adding to it, struggling through the laughs she was producing.

“and then i fucking dropped the drink on the floor and it went everywhere!” she laughed, you join her, stumbling over your feet about to fall to the ground before you felt a warm hand planted firmly on your waist.

grace pulled you up quickly, the force of it having you smashing into her side, “easy” she chuckles, rubbing up and down your waist quickly before she let it linger on your lower back, directing your steps.

your cheeks go pink, your breath quickening a little at the interaction.

grace looks down at you a little worried about your breathing, “you okay?” her thick, northern accent making your stomach lurch, butterflies were an understatement when it came to grace.

“yep, fine” you breathe out, grace narrows her eyes at you but nods, hand still on your back as the group gathers, only leaving your body when you had to train, and of course, you’re partnered up.

clearly the two of you were in a silly mood because you two could not stop giggling. everyone would smile at the two of you, honestly the both of you were big kids stuck in adult bodies and it was incredibly endearing.

you were a striker, grace decided to practise her set piece with you in preparation for an upcoming match. you were known to be a little unstoppable, a rising star in everyone’s eyes, you were relentless when it came to scoring goals.

grace kicked the ball to you and you plant it in the back of the net, grace runs over to you and hoists you up in her waist, running around with you as you scream and laugh. acting as though she’s never seen you score before.

“top bins” she yells, making you laugh brightly as she jumped up and down with you in her arms, you slap her shoulder with a laugh, “gracie we have to practise,” you chuckle, she places you down on the floor with a laugh, waiting for you to run up so she could pass you the ball again.

and when you manage to score again, she just could not ignore the amount of admiration for you, hoisting you up again and running around the pitch while the team laughs at your screams and laughter.

“$5 they confess right now” beth jokes, celin laughs brightly, “no way, i don’t think it will ever happen” she smiles, watching as grace puts you on the ground as you shove her, your smiles infectious for everyone watching. “they’re so stupid” beth coos.

“gracie, don’t do that anymore” you laugh, giving her chest a little shove, “never” she replies cheekily, giving your nose a little squeeze before running off.

you smile as you watch her running off, waiting for you by your water bottles and chucking yours to you when you were near.

“what a save! ever considered being a goal keeper?” she teases, you drink your water with a shake of your head and flip her off, making her giggle before you both chat back and forth, promptly getting yelled at by beth for being distracted.

—

changes were evident when you and grace got called up again for the senior team, only this time, you were both debuting.

you were both starting, grace managing to assist you in two goals and getting her own in turn. you both got subbed off 20 minutes till full time and collapsed on the bench with bright smiles.

“little superstar, two goals” grace smiles down at you, nudging your shoulder with hers, you smile at her, “little superstar, one goal, technically three with your perfect assists” you say cheekily, nudging her like she did to you.

she looked down at your lips for a second before swallowing harshly, suddenly hyper aware of where she was, she faced the front with a nervous expression. you missed it completely.

she quickly begins to feel comfortable when you joke about something, falling into comfortable conversation and giggles.

you both joked as you watched the match, both of you yelling when something bad would happen or when something went well. all grace could really focus on was you, only reacting when you would because you were actually paying attention.

when the match concluded, you jumped on grace’s back and without a second thought, she held you by the underside of your thighs as you went to talk to your teammates.

“are you two dating yet?” ella laughs when she saw you leaning down to whisper something in grace’s ear as she chuckled.

you both froze, alessia winces and slaps her best friend on the shoulder, “tooney!” she exclaims, ella looks at her offendedly, “what?” alessia shakes her head, sending you both an apologetic smile as she dragged ella away, promptly scolding the girl as they walked.

you clear your throat and wriggle out of grace’s embrace, awkwardly chatting while you walked along side each other but returning to normal when you both laughed about a sign someone was holding with both you and grace on it saying ‘bestie goals’. you both wished it said something else on it.

—

though, what really changed everything was a new year’s party the lionesses frequently had. you and grace both got ready at home and when you came out of your room to an awaiting grace on the couch, her breath hitched at seeing you.

you looked drop dead gorgeous, stumbling inside while adjusting your earring. her mouth was slightly agape as she took you in, “do you think this looks okay?” you say with a little uncertainty, giving a little twirl with a nervous smile.

“(y/n) you look so beautiful,” she says earnestly, her eyes staring into yours as you nervously shifted your weight between your feet. your cheeks were pink, and so were grace’s.

“really?” you breathe out, grace nods firmly, “really, love” she smiles, you look at grace up and down, smiling as you took in her appearance. you were unintentionally in matching colours.

“you look beautiful as well, gracie” you smile, “but you copied my colour” you tease, grace rolls her eyes amusingly, “fine, i’ll change” she jokes when she stands up from the couch, you catch her hand before she could move past her.

“you look perfect, no” you scold, pulling her towards the car. she swore she went into cardiac arrest then and there.

you’re still hand in hand by the time your reach the car, grace making an effort to open the door for you with a sheepish grin when you smile at her affectionately, a small, “thank you, gracie” escaping your lips that made her nervous.

when you both get to the party, you’re instantly thrust into different conversations, unfortunately being separated.

that didn’t mean you didn’t stop looking at each other, however, your eyes always managing to connect from the other side of the room before making your way to each other again.

you and grace opted to not drink, she had driven and you didn’t want her to be sober alone, she was incredibly grateful for you.

you both chat and laugh, engaging in other conversations while grace placed her hand on the small of your back again, claiming you needed to stay with her or she’d ‘go insane’.

it was 11:50 and you watched as your teammates and friends all neared their partners, sticking close to them so they could have that new years kiss.

you looked to your side on the small couch, grace. grace was there. like she always was.

you couldn’t help the lingering thoughts of how you wanted grace to be your new years kiss, something you dreamt about every year.

if only you knew about the war going on in her mind at that moment, she fiddled with the rings on her fingers as she watched the surrounding couples get increasingly affectionate as the time neared.

you and grace danced along to the music on the couch before you both got pulled up by ella, “no sitting!” she laughs, pushing you forward and making you stumble into her arms before she walked away with joe.

grace’s hands catch you by the waist, your own holding her shoulders for support as you looked up at her. she swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked at you, your wide eyes and plump lips making her incredibly nervous.

you glance over at the time quickly for good measure, 11:59. “it’s almost midnight” you breathe out, grace nods, humming at your words. “yeah, 1 minute” she points out, her head double checking before focusing back on you.

“should we kiss at midnight?” you blurt out, internally cursing yourself for your forwardness. though, to your surprised grace nods, “why not?” grace shrugs.

a little smile plays at the corner of her lips at the thought of kissing you. you were both incredibly surprised at how forward the whole situation was.

“nothing wrong with kissing your best friend” you stutter, “no, nothing at all” she rushes out, making you both giggle before you hear people counting down from ten.

your pupils were blown out, grace as well, additionally with the two of you so pink in the cheeks, it looked like you were sunburned.

both of your eyes would stare into each other’s before dropping to your lips, both of you were incredibly nervous but overall excited.

by the time it reached two, everything felt in slow motion as grace cradled your cheek in her hand, gently pulling you forward till your lips met hers.

“happy new year!” people yelled.

almost feeling as though you had done it before, you both kissed each other sweetly, expressing everything you felt just with the press against your lips.

she pulled you closer as your arms wrapped around her neck, pressing you against her as your mouths moved together.

grace lets out a happy sigh against you, her hand around you waist moving to give your hip and gentle squeeze.

you hum against her, making her grin against your lips, your own little grin making its way into the kiss before you both pulled away in need of air.

you’re both still incredibly close to each other, everything tuning out around you as your breaths intermingled with each other.

“i love you” she breathes out, you smile at her and without hesitation you reply, “i love you” making her grin and press another tender kiss against your lips.

you hear some faint cheering but you ignore it, only focusing on the girl in front of you. your girl. her girl. finally.

of course when you and grace pull away, you’re teased like no tomorrow, both of you just taking it with bright grins as grace back hugged you, her arms around your middle as she kissed your cheek, your hands holding onto her arms resting on you.

—

you both got home after the party and grace just couldn’t resist you anymore. kissing your neck gently while your shaky hands attempted to open the door.

she places her hand around yours holding the key, helping you open it with a chuckle and closing it behind her when she gently pushes you inside.

as soon as the door closes, you surge forward and kiss her, she hums out surprised against you, walking you backwards until you both reach the couch.

she sits down first, patting her lap and giving you an inviting smile that had you swooning. you straddle her lap and she pulls you into a kiss without missing a beat, your tongues exploring each others mouths before her teeth gently tugging your bottom lip.

you smile when she releases it gently, moving forward to kiss her again. she suddenly giggled against you and you pull away with an amused smile, cocking your head to the side questioning her giggles.

“sorry, i just never thought this would happen” she says adoringly, her hand moving to rub the apple of your cheek gently, “yeah, me too” you smile, carding your hands through her hair and gently scratching the back of her neck with your nails, making her completely melt under your touch.

you both talked and talked all night, interrupted by a few stolen kisses until you both fell asleep on the couch. when you woke up to grace’s head resting on your chest as your legs were tangled, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

you smooth down the back of her hair gently and she stirs awake, holding herself above you and smiling down charmingly before tucking her head into the crook of your neck.

she places a gentle kiss there before she straddles your hips, kissing all over your face until you broke out into a fit of giggles, making her giggle along with you just at the sweet sound.

“will you be my girlfriend, baby?” grace breathes out, nudging your nose with hers, you nod instantly, pulling the back of her neck until your lips met with hers gently.

“i’d love to” you whisper against her, another kiss placed on your lips that made you so dizzy, you were both absolutely blissed out.

—

when you both went back to training, let’s just say some money was passed around with groans at seeing your intertwined hands.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you! ily celin❤️

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

graceclinton_x: me looking at her like this even though she stole my food

view all comments

yourname: baby, sharing is caring

↳ graceclinton_x: sharing is caring when it only applies to you, baby girl

↳ yourname: very true xx smart girl!

↳ graceclinton_x: mhm

ellatoone: why don’t you ever look at me like that, clinton?

↳ alessia: ella

↳ graceclinton_x: ella

↳ yourname: ella

↳ ellatoone: what?

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #grace clinton x reader #grace clinton

372 notes · View notes

charliecuntcicle · 3 months

Text

post in english so more ppl can understand since most qsmp-ers dont know italian

the ccs absolutely arent going to let the admin mistreatment slide. from what i hear bbh keeps tabbing out to type for long periods of time and (speculation) but tubbo keeps looking away distracted by somethin else during risk rn. quackity cares entirely too much about qsmp to let something like this slide either. like he talks all the time about how inclusive he wants the qsmp i doubt hes going to let the only 2 french admins be investigated and removed. i believe the admin that spoke out said they dont think quackity knew before they said anything (this is what i heard? i dont speak french so im getting this second hand) but with the communities reaction to everything he def knows about it and will probs be doing something about it now. and im sure other cc's are fighting for the admins as well

as far as the pay it IS a volunteer project so its not like theyre gonna get paid super well since most volunteer positions dont even pay (at least where i live?? might be different elsewhere) but specifically not paying the rp admins is crazy when theyre the ones playing for what could amount to the time spent at a full time job and not getting any donos/subs like the streamers. and paying artists for commissions is kinda. how commissions work

unfortunately a lot of times in community projects like this the mistreatment comes from higher ups and the owners typically dont know whats going on but with the admins speaking out something will probs be done about it now that people are aware

also just to say, the idea of the rp admins not being paid is not new!! tubbo has directly asked sunny and other eggs (i think maybe it was empanada ?? i do not remember) if they get paid and they shook their head at him. at the time it was brushed off as a silly thing but its def not a recent revelation

be patient, send love and advocate for the admins, dont send hate to quackity or any other ccs who probs werent aware <3

#qsmp #discourse

149 notes · View notes

bagdaddyb · 8 months

Note

Hi!! Oh my gosh seeing you posting again was such a huge joy and surprise for me I’m so glad to read your new work!!!

I was wondering if you could write a wanda maximoff x fem!reader ABO fic where either Wanda or reader are new to the team with a whole bunch of pining where they eventually figure out that they are each others mate? You can make either Wanda or reader alpha/omega!

It’s super okay if you aren’t feeling this request, either way I’m so excited to read more of the amazing work you share with us!!!

Hiiiii! So I got super carried away with this and I originally intended for this to be mean emo Wanda but sweet soft Wanda took over, I hope you enjoy! 💗

Pairing: alphag!p Wanda x omega fem! spyReader

Warning: Sickeningly Sweet, 18+ MINOR DNI NSFW NSFW

AN: Wanda 🥰

You'd only been on the team for a year when the mess with Ultron happened. It all happened so fast, you could barely process everything happening around you before something new would arise. Sitting across from Natasha sipping coffee as you spied on the twin alphas you felt the most relaxed you had in weeks. Natasha kept glancing their way while your focus stayed on her, two people staring was more suspicious than one. You and the red head proved to be a good team over the past year. Two omega spies flying under everyones radar. The world still assumed the Black Widow a one woman show and no one would ever believe her to be an omega. The breeze felt nice on your back, bringing a hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear before looking down at your coffee.

"This has been a real shit show eh?"

Your voice held a familiar accent one you'd grown used to using under your many aliases. Natasha's eyes returned to you as she sipped her own drink.

"Not anymore than usual."

You hummed in response eyes wondering to the innocent civilians around you. Sipping your own cup you wonder if life would be better among them. Oblivious to the realities of the world to caught up in your own day to day menial task. The weight of this job seemed to weigh a bit heavier on your shoulders everyday, the question of wether the people you save amounts to the people you don't plaguing.

"S toboy vse v poryadke?" (Are you alright?)

The red head ask and you nod eyes returning to hers.

"Tired, it seems everytime we try to relax something detrimental in the world happens. I wonder what it would do without us."

A small chuckle escapes Natasha despite the truth in your words, her eyes shooting to the pair on her right once more. Though not a 'graduate' of the red room you hold your own tramatic story. Experimented on in the basement of Oscorp for years you'd been turned into a lab rat by the corpo bastards that owned the building. You'd escaped only three years ago, changed. Transformed into a human machiene, non-aging, ridiculously strong with a sirens song. You did the only thing you could and played the cards you were delt. Seducing mediocre alphas out of millions before any one even got a whiff of your existence but you could truly only thank Natasha for that. It wasn't until Natasha was taken down but the Black Widow kept striking that shield realized there was more than met the eye. It was Tony himself that went undercover to catch you and honestly had he not been an Avenger with intel he would of ended up caught himself. Another rich egotistical alpha who thought himself on top of the world. You didn't go down easy and spent a week in a cell before even uttering a word. In retrospect it all seems silly now you often think about how much time you wasted fighting the people who wanted nothing more than to help you. Eyes lifting to Natasha's face you can't help but feel greatful for the opportunity she's given you to help others like you.

"They're on the move."

You hum in acknowledgment before finishing off your drink mind finally wondering to the matter at hand. Your mission was recruitment nothing more. Ultron having been made unreasonably strong by the twins he somehow came to be in alliance with. You'd gained enough information merely listening in on their conversation, so you and Natasha retreated returning to the group in order to solidify your advances. Standing in time with Natasha you link your arm in hers smiling before chatting away about absolutely nothing in russian. Missing the way a certain alpha glanced your way when your scent drifted down wind. It only took twenty four hours for everything to go to shit almost a record breaker in your books. Ultron whineded up to be nothing after the male alpha was nere fatally injured the red headed woman taking care of him like clockwork. Luckily your team stood nearby able to quickly extract the alpha towards safety and medical attention. You worked efficiently getting him secured before moving to help the rest of your team fight off Ultron's bots and it isn't until the end when you stand with the support of Thor that you realize the red headed alpha had come with you. Returning to the compound there is tension on the quinjet. The group unsure what to do with the twin alphas who quite literally just tried to murder them and it causes you to roll your eyes.

"You could at least not talk about them as if they aren't right there."

You scold before moving towards the pair. The red head having been unmoving crouched over her unconscious brother.

"Privet." (Hello.)

You say making yourself known as you approach the alpha causing her to glance up at you.

"On dolzhen polnost'yu vyzdorovet'." (He should make a full recovery.)

You speak in a whisper trying to be soft.

"YA uveren, chto on ne khotel by, chtoby vy bespokoilis'." (I'm sure he wouldn't want you to worry.)

The woman merely returns her eyes to the unconscious man below her.

"Will you lock us up? Treat us once again like dogs?"

Your eyebrows raise and your posture straightens.

"No of course not, everyone deserves a second chance. You believed you were fighting for the right thing, there are many on this team who have been in a similar circumstance. Do not believe simply because we are labeled supergeroi that none of us have a dark past." (Superheroes)

With that you take your leave allowing the woman to be with her loved one. Upon returning to the compound you go into seclusion, you needed a break both mentally and physically. Just a few days where the world wasn't ending and it was entirely up to you to save it. Six days later you emerge slightly re-energized and fresh ready for the next catastrophe. The first place you visit is the gym already hearing Natasha's scolding on breaking your routine as you pass the common room you see the two twins on the couch alone. In this light you see them both clearly, while they hold the title twin they couldn't look more different. You study them both your eyes lingering on the red head. She was an attractive alpha, very attractive. You hear the tv playing but don't recognize the program they have on. Detouring into the room you catch their attention waving as you approach.

"Hello, I am rather embarrassed to say we never formally met. I am (Y/N) nice to meet you both."

You bow your head in greeting sending them a bright smile and both of them seem to freeze obviously caught off guard by your friendly approach. The male recovers first standing up before bowing his head back and sticking out his hand.

"Pietro, and that is my sestra Wanda."

You recognize his accent reaching to grip his hand in yours.

"A pleasure, I hope you two are adjusting well."

It isn't until then his sister jumps up a slight flush on her cheeks.

"It has been familiar, we are rather alienated but that is how it has always been."

You hum in response fighting back the disappointment in your expression.

"Don't fret, we are a group of antisocial extroverts forced to be in a group setting. Well expect for Tony but it just takes us all time to engage and meet new people, they will come around before long."

You finish with a smile.

"Have you two at least been taken care of? Food, water, lodging?"

They nod simultaneously and its enough for you.

"Good well I'm off to the gym, don't be strangers."

With that you leave not taking note of the full face flush on the woman's face.

"Kto-nibud' nashel svoyu sestru-omegu?" (Has someone found their omega sister?)

Pietro says in a teasing tone and Wanda punches him in the shoulder muttering at him to shut up. The moment you cross the threshold of the gym you flinch.

"Nu posmotrite, kto eto." (Well look who it is.)

"Can we skip past the part where you scold me so I can just apologize?"

You ask turning to meet Natasha's sharp gaze.

"Will your muscles magically regain their mass?"

"No."

You sigh accepting your defeat beginning to stretch as Natasha begins her speech on commitment. It is another four days before everyone finally comes around to the twins slotting them in as if theyed been there since the beginning just as they had you. Walking towards the gym you release a content sigh, a full ten days since the world seemed as though it'd collapse. What bliss. Quickly looking up your eyes fantically search for some wood unwilling to risk jinxing yourself.

"Dobroye utro." (Good morning.")

You hear from behind turning to be greeted by Wanda.

"Good morning indeed. Off for your morning cuppa are you?"

You ask and Wanda merely nods in response fighting back a yawn.

"Not a morning person?"

You ask with a smile walking beside Wanda.

"Not at all."

She says somewhat grumpily.

"Then what are you doing up at six a.m?"

You ask with a laugh and Wanda has to fight back a blush. She couldn't admit that she woke up at this time merely to see you every morning but what could she say.

"I like to cook but I'm not very good at it.... so I practice early before the others wake up."

The words spill out of her mouth quickly unable to think of anything better and you beam your white smile at her.

"Well how about tomorrow you sleep in till eight then I can help you learn, I am an amazing cook. I even know how to make some traditional dishes."

Wanda can't help the flush that comes to her face this time and it makes you feel a tingle inside.

"Okay."

The red head responds and you nod giving her arm a little reassuring squeeze as you come upon the kitchen.

"Good luck dorogoy." (Dear)

You say before continuing onto the gym and Wanda is sure her face matches her hair. Sure enough the next morning Wanda doesn't head towards the kitchen instead she spends the morning pacing her room anxiety ridden. You'd said for her to sleep in but how could she when you agreed to spend alone time with her. She couldn't tell Pietro and deal with his repeated teasing so she kept the information in slowly but surely having a meltdown. As she paced she played with her hair, bit her finger, twiddled her thumbs. God she couldn't do this. She'd literally been an experiment for Hydra and never felt this nervous in her life. The time passed quickly. To quickly. Right as she truly began to spiral there was a knock at her door, eyes shooting to the clock she realizes its already eight o'clock. Brushing off her clothes quickly before taking a few deep breaths and recuperating she opens her door. The moment her eyes land on you it all seems for naught, your hair is tied back. You wear tights and a tshirt covered by an apron. Your eyes spakle matched by your bright smile and Wanda feels herself melt a bit.

"I figured you'd meet me in the kukhnya." (Kitchen)

You say with a giggle and Wanda becomes a tomato realizing its not only eight but eight eleven.

"I'm sorry I slept in and lost all track of time."

You hum with a smile clearly not mad at all before turning to be on your way.

"All is fine I just didn't want to start without you."

Wanda follows behind you closing her door quickly. Her eyes wonder your body not being able to help staring at your ass.

"Ty slushayesh'?" (Are you listening?)

Wanda's eyes shoot up attention back on your voice.

"I asked what your favorite dish is."

"Oh um I love traditional pirozhki, my mother used to make them just slightly burnt at the edges. The taste reminds me of home."

You turn and smile softly her way.

"Perfect then that's what we will make, cooking can seem overwhelming but it isn't as scary as many think. I always recommend learning to cook for yourself first because it is much easier than cooking for others."

In the kitchen you gather the suppiles, you cooked often so the ingredients for this dish were easily found.

"I'll have you make the dough, it is all simply measurements so I'll do no more than verbal instructions."

You say as you prepare the area for Wanda.

"Here put this on, gotta protect your clothes and tie your hair back no one wants hair in their food."

Handing the apron to Wanda while standing by waiting. You bite your lip as you watch her. Running her fingers through silky red locks before pulling it up exposing her neck to you. She wore grey sweatpants and a baggy t. The sweatpants doing little to hide the member between her legs and you press your thighs together pleasurably. Wanda on the other hand was trying to think about how to see this lie through. She was an amazing cook, taking the responsibility of her brother from a young age. How was she going to play clueless. She should of at least said a dish she truly wasn't aware of how to make but when you asked her favortie food she couldn't help but answer honestly. You talked Wanda through the steps praising her for being a natural when the dough came out well. Leaving it to make the filling.

"What did your mom fill hers with? I do a simple meat and rice mixture since it goes along with my bulk."

Wanda nods along as she listens debating a moment before responding.

"Lets make them like yours, I've never had them any other way and I'd be eager to try."

You smile brightly at the alpha before nodding in response. Again you talk her through it always believing hands on with clear instruction was the best way to learn any skill. It gave the student mutiple ways to intake the information and made it harder to forget. Once the process is complete you help Wanda cut and stuff the dough, this part of the process being the longest and most tedious. You leave her to fry them as she likes since she'd mentioned her mom let them cook a bit longer and instead move to clean around her. Never a fan of a messy workspace. You hum as you clean, mindlessly really. It seems a tune that always floats around you. One Wanda is sure she's heard you hum before. By the time Wanda is done cooking you've cleaned the kitchen and are able to sit down and enjoy the meal with her. Of course the moment doesn't last and before either of you can even take a bite the smell of food draws in hungry Avengers.

"Mne vsegda nravitsya, kogda ty gotovish'." (I always love when you cook.)

Natasha says entering first, the smell of traditional food equivalent to a cat with its automatic feeder. Steve, Bruce, Tony, and Sam all slowly trickle in after stomachs growling audibly making you laugh.

"I suppose if I didn't cook every once in a while no one would eat around here hmmm?"

The group shares a laugh as they line up one by one to make plates.

"But in all honesty this meal is thanks to Wanda not me, I merely talked her through the steps."

Wanda can't hide the pink that dust her cheeks and all is going well until a certain twin walks in.

"Pirozhki! You always cook the best food sestra."

The blonde kisses his sisters head as he passes by and you can't help the eyebrow that raises in response.

"Always hmmm?"

You hum and Wanda is saved by the entrance of Thor who could of eaten the entire helping had he got here first.

"Mighty (Y/N) your meals are always most invigorating."

You smile at the God and try not laugh when you see his downcast face once he realizes he is the last one to show. Wiping your face after you finish you excuse yourself it was already nearing noon and you still hadn't even looked at the moutain of paperwork on your desk. Wanda watches you go. Over the next three weeks you and Wanda grow closer she begins training with you and Natasha in the mornings and you read with her sometimes in the afternoons, you don't question her about Pietro's comment after your cooking fiasco and Wanda never says anything about it because that woukd mean admitting to you that she was desperate to spend time with you.

"Soo?"

Natasha ask as the two of you jog around the gardens. It was early afternoon in fall, the cool winds combating your rising body heat making the jog enjoyable.

"Nothing."

"Yebat' will she ever make a move?" (Fuck)

You merely shrug.

"I don't know, I'll start showing signs of heat by the end of the week if that doesn't trigger her there's no hope."

Natasha laughs at that.

"Tak khochetsya al'fu, da?" (So eager for an alpha eh?)

"Not just any alpha, Wanda."

The week passes slowly and as the weekend gets closer your pheromones get stronger. The team knew your heat was approaching as they kept a calander for the Alphas so they could know when to distance, well everyone except Wanda apparently. Its Thursday night by the time she's had enough of your distance and decides to ask why you aren't at the table for dinner with the rest of the team.

"Where's (Y/N), I swear I haven't seen her all week."

Natasha sends a small smirk Wanda's way before Steve speaks up.

"Her heat is approaching so she is keeping extra distance for everyones saftey, she should come back around a week or so from today."

Pink hue coats Wanda's cheeks as the thought of you in heat takes over her mind and the pink only gets darker as her hard on begins to form in her pants. Her mind plummets into thoughts about your slick, and body. Thoughts about filling you with her seed and you being full with her pups causes her to be embarrassed by how hard she's become. If not for the table her bulge would be hard to miss. Wanda remains in a fog for the rest of dinner try as she might she couldn't get her mind off mating you and as everyone stands to part ways she remains seated making the excuse that she'd clean up the kitchen. Wanda strained painfully against her pants she could almost smell you now.

Rubbing your sides you walk towards the kitchen dinner should be over by now and you're starving. You need to get as many calories in as you can before you succumb to your heat tomorrow. The pain was slowly starting to set in and you'd be lying if you said you were looking foreward to the next seven days. You let out a groan as you turn the corner a sudden sharp pain stabbing your side. As you enter the threshold of the kitchen goosebumps rise on your skin the familiar smell of Wanda infultrating your nose before your eyes lock with the alphas. You're almost sure you see Wanda begin to tremble but you quickly begin to back away.

"I'm sorry I thought everyone would be gone by now."

You go to retreat from the kitchen and Wanda stands so quickly her chair falls behind her. In a second she's in your face grabbing you softly by the jaw making you look at her.

"Omega."

She whispers as she sniffs at you rubbing her nose against your cheek before falling to your scent gland.

"Mate."

She whispers again and you chirp. Your omega finally satisfied being acknowledged by your alpha. For a few minutes nothing happens, the two of you stand there relishing eachothers presence. You chirp at her as she lightly growls at you and you feel satisfied, whole even. Then you are painfully reminded of your situation causing you to sharply intake air and groan. Wanda growls louder at the noise of your distress and you whimper.

"It hurts."

Wanda's grip on your jaw becomes tighter, pushing you into the wall before pressing her own body against yours.

"Tell me where it hurts, I'll take care you shchenok." (Puppy)

You groan again, your heat suddenly over taking your senses as a result of having your mate so close. Your hands raise to grip Wanda's arms tightly, nails digging into her skin through the fabric of her shirt.

"Need you, please. Alpha. Mate."

Your words come out as little whimpers. Your panting, you don't know why but suddenly you can't get enough air for full breaths. So caught up in Wanda you don't even process you're about to be mated in the tower kitchen but honestly you don't care either. Wanda however does she feels territorial, primal even. She needs you to herself, needs privacy with you. She'd attack anyone who might see your bare body if she mated you here. Her room was on the other side of the compound, the alpha side far from the omegas and living area but your room was just down the hall. Wanda releases your jaw hands moving down your body till she reaches the back of your thigh. You bite your lip enjoying the electricity you felt from her touch. As she picks you up you wrap your legs around her torso tightly. Her hands against your thighs causing your sex to tingle. You wrap one hand around her neck before running the other through soft red hair. You return to chirping at her, the feeling of finding your mate an overwhelmingly happy one. You rub your cheek against hers softly and the alpha lightly growls in acknowledgment. You are consumed by Wanda's presence unable to focus on anything but her. When she lays you lightly on your bed you aren't even sure where you are, you just know you're there with her. Wanda bends over you, tucking her nose into your scent gland once more and growling loudly. She needs you, needs you marked, claimed. Needs everyone to know you belong to her.

"Mate."

The word is once again a whisper but you hear it all the same. The time to romantically strip you would have to be later gripping opposite sides of the loose shirt you wore the alpha literally tears the cloth off of you exposing your bra cladded torso to her. Your breathing speeds up the intimacy of the moment undeniable as you feel Wanda begin to run her lips down your body. It was like electric shock, the currents Wanda's touch sent through your body. She magiced your bra away completely exposing your upper half and growling as her soft lips wrapped around your nipple. You moan loudly in response, it felt good too good. You could get lost in this sensation alone.

"Mine."

Wanda growls against your skin before moving along to your other nipple. Your hands grip at Wanda through her clothes before you whimper.

"Need to feel you alpha."

Wanda growls in response, her eyes glowing red as she magics away her own clothing her skin now pressing against yours. She moves back up your body mouth hovering close before she lays claim to your own. The kiss is magical, the locking of your lips causing what you could only descibe as bliss throughout your whole body. You felt like you were glowing arms and legs wrapping around the alpha tightly you were sure this must be heaven. Wanda began to grind against you through the fabric of your pants, your underwear gliding against your excessive amount of slick. You blush, embarrassed by how wet you truly are from so little foreplay but the feeling doesnt last long when Wanda growls above you. Wanda pulls your pants off your waist guiding them down your thighs just enough to expose your slick and shudders when the smell of you tingles her nostrils. She's overcome with the need to knot you, breed you as she makes her mark on your neck. But she also feels the feral need to take you, to have your slick dripping down her chin as she causes you to come apart on her tongue. Starting with the latter she pulls your pants off quickly. Breaking away from your lips to slowly kiss down your body. You take a long gasp of air eyes dialating as you watch Wanda work her way down. Your hips begin to twitch unable to stay still at the excitement of what was about to come. Wanda's hands move to firmly grip your waist holding you in place as she kisses your stomach moving lower and lower your stomach muscles flex, a wave of arousal flowing through you. When she reaches her destination her hands move to your thighs lifting them up to hold you wide open for her. You're leaking, literally and Wanda can't wait to have a taste. She dives in slurping up the excess before moving to your center. Sucking on your clit then tongue fucking you like a woman starved. Your slick quenches a thirst Wanda didn't even know she had tongue lapping at your clit before quickly moving towards your hole eager to drink up the slick as a result. It doesn't take long and under normal circumstances you're sure you would of been embarrassed but none of that matters when your muscles spasm. Back arching in the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced, your thighs shake, eyes shut, mouth open in a silent scream. Wanda doesn't stop eagerly drinking up your orgasm before wanting, no needing you to do that again. You whimper in overstimulation but don't stop your alpha, just as turned on by her need for you. You squirm against the red heads mouth a little towards her a little away, this time you last longer if only for your slight sensitivity causing time before the feeling was pleasurable again yet you cum all the same. Wanda moans loudly as you release into her mouth again. She could do this all day she's sure of it. But now as her precum begins to soak her boxers she knows its time. Lifting onto her knees between your legs red eyes glow as her pants disappear and through your haze you see her in all her glory. You reach down gripping her in your hand moaning at the size while she moans at the sensation. You pump her, an overwhelming feeling to suck her down your through the way she'd done you comes over you but Wanda quickly grabs your hand removing you from her.

"You're going to make me bust shchenok." (Puppy)

Wanda hesitates a second if only to allow her own incoming orgasm to subside, she needed to bury herself in you and it wouldn't look good for her if it ended just as quickly as it started. In the meantime she leans down over you meeting your lips in a hungry kiss the taste of you on her lips causing another wave of your own slick to pool between your legs. You push at her lower back willing her to enter you but she resist. Kissing you eagerly before breaking to kiss to move towards your scent gland, you pant quickly. Wanda's kiss having stolen all the air from your lungs.

"Mine."

Wanda whispers against you, hips beginning to grind against your slick in order to lubricate herself. You shudder in response.

"Yours alpha, take me. I want to be yours."

Wanda reaches down gripping herself in order to slowly slide into you. She's thick stretching you out in ways only she can, the burn sends waves through you and by the time she's completely sheathed you're a whimpering mess.

"Yebat' you're so tight." (Fuck)

She pulls out only to slam back into you, her pace is brutal, hips slamming against yours hitting a sweet spot you didn't even know you had repeatedly. Your moans are as loud as the sound of your wet slick sucking Wanda back in. You claw at her wanting her impossibly closer as she fucked you into next week.

"Holy fuck I'm cumming. Alpha. Alpha."

Your eyes roll back as you arch. The orgasm makes you see white and Wanda doesnt stop. You squirting fueling her ego.

"That's right shchenok. You love the way your alpha fucks you, love how deep I am in you. Look shchenok can you see me."

Wanda brings your gaze down the visible bulge in your stomach when the alpha bottoms out causing your stomach to tighten.

"I'm right here."

Wanda says as she pushes down on the bulge and you spasm again another light orgasm washing through you.

"Fuck I'm gonna fill you up, get you pregnant with my pup."

Wanda pumps into you harder, her knot slamming against your entrance as she nears her own release.

"Alpha. Alpha."

You whimper to fucked out to form any other words.

"You're gonna look so pretty swollen with my seed all mine."

You moan again as Wanda bends towards your scent gland the feel of her canines against your neck enough to almost send you over the edge. She sinks her teeth into you right as you hear a pop. Her knot having settled inside you easily combined with the blackout orgasm of your mating bite. When you come to Wanda is still knotted deep inside you. Nuzzling at your cheeks with a low growl. You chirp back to weak to do much else and Wanda hums.

"My mate, my omega."

10 months later.

You were exhausted, to say the least. A new born was a lot of work and a lot of lost sleep. Wanda wasn't here, literally dragged away for a debrief she was required to attend. If you were honest you didn't mind, she'd been slightly smothering you since you gave birth and while you loved her for it just because you gave birth didn't mean you were no longer a functioning adult. You'd been picking petty arguments since your third trimester which you always felt bad for. It was the hormones combined with being put on bedrest so you didn't get to do your job combined with sexual frustration since the doctor said it was no longer safe for intercourse. You sighed as you stepped out of the shower, now with the added insecurities about the changes in your body since pregnancy and child birth you weren't sure you even wanted Wanda to touch you. Ignoring the mirror you dry yourself before wrapping a towel around you. Exiting the bathroom right as your little baby boy woke up with soft cries. You coo at him lifting him out of his crib you lose your towel throwing it over the side in order to hold your baby against your bare chest. You were barely one month postpartum but glad to be past the part where you were in a sense literally wearing a human diaper. Your son instantly calms at the sound of your heart beat as you bounce him lightly moving to sit in your bed you lean against the headboard letting out slightly pained noises as you try and relax your overworked back. You cover your lower half with the blanket already feeling the chill of the room as you begin to hum at your son. You don't hear the door open to focused to the little boy in your arms, getting comfortable as you move him to breast feed. You hiss as he begins to work at your sore nipple but eventually relax becoming accustomed to the pain. You rub his little head of hair softly smiling at him a fullness in your heart only created by the birth of your child as Wanda makes her pressence known.

"You're so beautiful dorogaya." (Dearheart)

You bite back your own insecurities at her comment humming in response. Looking up you meet Wanda's piercing eyes before meeting her lips in a kiss.

"I mean it dorogaya or have you forgotten I can hear your thoughts."

You can't help but frown not used to not being able to keep secrets.

"But...."

"Ah ah ah no buts, you're even more beautiful now than the day we met. Pregnancy and childbirth has given you a glow nothing else can."

You sigh a familiar warmth filling your chest in response to Wanda's love.

"YA tebya lyublyu." (I love you)

You whisper your free hand coming to rub against Wanda's cheek.

"I ya lyublyu tebya. Forever and always." (And I love you)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlett witch #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #alpha wanda #omega reader #bagdaddyb #request

329 notes · View notes

velteris · 4 months

Text

I’ve seen a fair amount of posts complaining about this arc in Frieren and… we are all entitled to our own opinions etc which is why I will be launching into a Defense of Frieren’s Exam Arc :) Keeping it manga spoiler free since it seems like most of these complaints are from anime-only viewers.

For me the main draw of this arc is the world building. We’ve spent all this time with Frieren and Fern as our main perspectives on magic. Because it’s Frieren, the magics we’ve been hearing about have mostly been a little silly and sweet. But now we’re finding out that 1) “mage” is largely still a combat designation, and 2) Frieren and Fern are actually incredibly jack-of-all-trades when it comes to their magic repertoire. The “magic is visualisation” part is starting to be really leant into and we’re seeing more humans as well who seem to specialise in one magic (steel flowers, rocks, clones, ice and water…) It’s cool!! It’s objectively cool! I love being able to see this range that we wouldn’t have had otherwise! Also it’s fucking fantastic to see how much of a BEAST Fern really is when compared to other human mages. And she doesn’t even seem that aware of it.

Coupled with that is being able to see different people’s philosophies toward magic. I think a lot of viewers are kind of down about the sudden huge influx of side characters who they don’t really care about. But these philosophies—Land’s maximum wait-and-watch, Wirbel and Ubel’s vastly different approaches to killing—keep expanding the world and highlighting Frieren and Fern’s own perspectives. It’s soooo good seeing them react to situations not of their own making and people not of their own kind.

We get to see human society that isn’t a village in the middle of nowhere! We get to see Frieren being forced to socialise! We get to see Fern away from her emotional support elf! We get to see how society has changed since the demon king was defeated! I love that Himmel and co ushered in an era of peace, which it is, and yet the world is still full of conflicts. Truly the story continues after the hero is finished.

To address a few specific complaints I’ve seen brought up:

Frieren isn’t about all these nonstop shounen fights.

Agreed! Which is why it’s cool as hell that Frieren’s main badass shounen strategy is “sit very still for 10 hours”. That aside? There actually hasn’t been much actual fighting. You could probably count up the minutes in which actual spells are being cast and it’ll be something like 2 minutes max in the latest ep20. And that’s because it’s not about who beats who, it’s about the philosophies, the worldbuilding, the ways of thinking about magic. This is not a power-measuring contest, much as Genau would like to make it. And the random lucky draw-ness of the Stilles only plays further into that. It is possible to pass this exam without coming into conflict with others, and certainly without battles to the death. It hasn’t ever been about the shounen fights.

The good part of the show was about the delicate melancholy and that’s totally missing here.

I agree that it’s one of the strong points. But the thing with the melancholy is that it only works when juxtaposed against other moments. A story that’s composed of a bunch of unlinked wistful slice-of-life episodes will eventually fall apart because it has no momentum, no driving force. And ten years to Ende is too long to go without at least some conflict. Also, again, ten-hour bird meditation session?

Anyway, there’s melancholy, but how sad it would be if there was nothing but introspection and wistfulness. Frieren is bringing the memories of Himmel forward with her into the future. That means she has to be moving forward, forging new relationships with unrelated people, going into situations that she hasn’t been in before. A Frieren stuck in the past would be against the themes of the show, of remembering and yet moving on.

Why should I care about them spending ages trying to catch a bird?

You don’t like Stille? 🐤 fweet?

Actually I care lots about this funky thing. Indestructible and goes supersonic fast. That’s fucking hilarious. Bird that simply cannot be contained. Genau is a dick for setting up this kind of exam when, Your Honour, my client Stille does not deserve to be imprisoned.

Too many irrelevant side characters who it’s hard to care about, and they’re gonna be thrown away at the end anyway.

Again, it’s the worldbuilding. And also, mild spoilers for stuff that won’t be covered in the anime, but at least one of these side characters does come back and we get more delicious main character development as a result. Though frankly many of these characters are deeply compelling and interesting to me so I don’t rly get this complaint. Give me more Lawine.

Where’s Himmel? What do these exams have to do with the hero party? Frieren is good because of the links to the past.

Frieren is good because of the links to the past, which affect how Frieren responds to the present. The whole point of Frieren is that Frieren’s life continues. And through her new experiences, she comes to understand and reconnect to the emotions she didn’t realise she felt about her past. I don’t care what Himmel would think of the mage exams, I care what Frieren thinks of them now. And the answer is that she doesn’t really give a damn but she’s in here anyway because Fern strongarmed her into it, and then she was forced to adopt two more kids along the way, and all of that is something she never would have done if she was still hermiting in the Central Lands. Somehow we are still getting Himmel flashbacks anyway? So? He’s still haunting the narrative guys. Just because Frieren isn’t saying “that’s what Hero Himmel would do” out loud in these circumstances doesn’t mean his ghost isn’t here.

Even so, Frieren clearly recognises the name Serie. Do not fear. There is going to be more about links to the past.

I miss Stark.

Fair enough. It’s okay, he’s just on vacation rn. Having an appy juice.

It’s taking too long. The arc is too slow.

It’s only been three episodes… I’ve seen people going “it’s already been three episodes!” but what? Really? Is that considered an excessive amount of time now?? Given the amount of story covered I think it’s quite reasonable? There’s still 8 episodes to go in which we cover the remaining exam stages. Have some patience like Frieren. The payoffs are being set up; they’ll resolve before the end of the mage exam arc. In the meantime, let’s enjoy theorising about the soft magic system and hollering for full auto Fern.

#frieren #sousou no frieren

162 notes · View notes

chromium-daze · 10 months

Text

Flower Bouquet

Portgas D. Ace x GN!Reader 548 words

Just some simple silly fluff, enjoy! ~no warnings, just gonna apologize for my mid writing alskjflaskdjf

---

"Y/N!" off in the distance you can see Ace running towards you, waving his hands wildly back and forth. As he gets closer, you notice that he has a bouquet of flowers in one of his hands.

After a little bit, he finally comes to an abrupt stop in front of you, doubled over with one hand on his knee and the other safely holding the bouquet above his head. A small silence followed, the occasional deep breath coming from Ace as he tried to catch his breath.

"Ace... is that a bouquet of flowers? What's the special occasion?" you ask, tilting your head to the side.

"Well you see, last night when you and I were drinking with the rest of the crew, you had mentioned how no one had ever gotten you flowers before. Soooooo..." Ace stood up as straight as he could and put one hand on his hip and held out the bouquet in front of you with his other, a bright smile on his face.

"Ace... you didn't even take the price tag off of this-" he held up a finger to your lips in an attempt to silence you.

"I just simply wanted to emphasize the MASSIVE amount of money I spent on it. Also, you didn't even thank me."

You make a show out of squinting your eyes at the price tag. "It says right here that it's five dollars."

"I'll have you know that's a LOT of money. I spent a lot of time choosing the BEST bouquet for the BEST person in the world." you roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Be honest, did you just ask for the cheapest option?"

Ace puckers his lips and squints, "...perhaps."

You sigh and shake your head slightly, "...thank you though."

"Oh??? Is that a genuine thank you I'm hearing??" you see the corners of his lips twitch.

"Yes, yes it is."

"Alright well, I should probably tell you then," Ace takes a deep breath and pauses. You wait patiently, tilting your head urging him to continue. "I ate one of the leaves."

The silence has never been so loud.

"I'm being serious! I swear!"

"But why though."

"Well I couldn't tell if it was fake or not!" he held his hands up in defense.

"So you're telling me the brilliant conclusion you came to, was to eat the leaf."

"Well... technically I didn't eat it... I just kind of... chewed it up a little bit." more silence.

"So what did it taste like?"

"A leaf."

"So like a real one or a fake one?"

"...A real one."

"Why do you know the difference?"

Ace shrugs. "I'm not obliged to answer that question."

You chuckle, hiding your smile behind your hand. "You're so interesting, you know that?"

Ace grins at you. "I can tell you're already falling in love with me."

You raise an eyebrow and smirk at him. "And what if I am?"

"Well then, I guess I'll get you a TEN dollar bouquet."

"With a chewed up leaf?"

"Multiple, if you'd like." there's a long pause between the two of you as you look at each other for one, two, seconds before the both of you double over in laughter, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes.

---

this was inspired by a tiktok post made by @/lulushoeshoe they make a bunch of prompts about a bunch of different things and i highly recommend checking them out if you're feeling a bit of burnout :)

#portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #gn reader #everybody can read this

288 notes · View notes

amsznn · 3 months

Text

2,000 MILES TO NONE ⋆⭒˚.

part 2 — part 1 here

A/N: ty guys sm for the love on all my recent posts! lmk what you would like to see and if i should make a tag list <3

you quickly noticed how L.A. was much different from boston, and honestly you weren’t loving it much. from the high temperatures to the busy streets, at first it was all overwhelming for you.

but now this is your fourth or fifth visit to L.A. and you started appreciating the differences it had from your home town. you soon found yourself falling in love with it.

the sun was peeking through matt’s curtains as you both were splayed across his silk bed sheets. he was the first to wake up and took the time to admire you while you slept. you hated when he did this since you thought you looked bad while you slept, but matt felt the complete opposite. he loved having these little moments with you since he felt the intimacy without having to actually be intimate.

but his little candid moment came to an end as you stirred in your sleep, turning on your side to stuff your face into his bare chest. “stop staring at me, weirdo.” you jokingly mumbled, still half asleep but not enough to miss the way matt’s eyes lingered on you.

“but you’re so pretty.” matt retorted while chuckling. you smiled at the sound while slowly bringing your hand to rub your eyes awake while saying “i look like a fish.”

“yeah, you kinda do.” matt laughed as you sat up quickly, shocked at his answer. you couldn’t help but smile as you roll your eyes. almost everyone could say that the way matt looks at you was like no other. his eyes filled with adoration and love when he looked at you, or whenever he looked in your general direction. the same could be said about you. no matter what matt would be doing, your whole focus would be on him like he was the last person left on this earth. no one could deny it, you both were lovestruck.

as the day went on, you and matt didn’t do anything extravagant. you two just stayed in and spent some time with nick and chris, catching up and doing silly tiktoks. eventually, matt confessed that he actually had something planned, so with that he dragged you out of the house to venture off to your next excursion. while on the drive, you tried prying out what the surprise was from matt. eventually, you got frustrated as he wasn’t budging. “cmon matt, y’know i dont like surprises.” you said while slumping in the passenger seat. the urge to know was killing you. “it’s nothing big, plus we’re almost there.” he said before turning the music on the radio up, subtly telling you to shut up.

he was right though. it was only in a matter of minutes before you reached your destination. you stepped out of the car before observing the scenery around you. “the beach?” you questioned as you watched matt make his way to the trunk of the car before pulling out a basket. he only nodded before he intertwined your fingers with his, leading you to this nice spot on the beach where the water wasn’t too far nor too close. since it was late in the evening, the sun was just setting which made for a beautiful view.

matt reaches into the basket before pulling out a blanket so you both could sit on the sand without getting dirty. he rummaged around the basket some more before pulling out a hefty amount of snacks. “i thought we’d come to the beach since we never had the chance to back in boston.” he said while softly chuckling.

“i also made sure to get you your favorite snacks, if you’re still hungry we can stop somewhere on the way back though.” matt said before pulling out more things from the basket. “i also thought it would be fun to do that thing on tiktok where we finish each other’s paintings.” as matt finishes explaining, he realized you were silent for quite some time now, so he looked up at you only to be met with your eyes watering. “did i do something wrong?” matt worriedly asks, scared you were upset about him getting the wrong snacks or something.

you shook your head before wiping your eyes. “no matt, it’s perfect.” you smiled and looked at everything around you. “i just don’t know how i got so lucky.”

matt softly smiled before cupping both sides of your face and bringing you in for a soft kiss.

“if anything, i’m the lucky one.”

you smiled at his words, close to tears once again. if someone told you you’d be with such a caring and loving individual, you probably wouldn’t have believed them. heartbreak after heartbreak, you began to think that love was hopeless. that was until you met matt. he showed you everything and more about loving someone, and how wonderful it can be.

the moment was bittersweet, as you couldn’t believe that in a matter of days, you’d be back to being 2,000 miles apart.

A/N: i had a mental breakdown writing this because i wrote sm but i forgot to save it then tumblr deleted my work. FINISHED IT EITHER WAY THO. so glad you guys enjoyed part 1 to this <3

#sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #requests open #fluff #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

147 notes · View notes

somedaylazysomeday · 4 months

Text

A Grand Deception - Part One

As a seamstress, you know your way around a ballgown. A ballroom is a different story, but you are determined to experience it for yourself.

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Personal Disclaimer: I wrote this having only watched the Bridgerton tv show. About a week ago, I discovered that Benedict's book-canon love story shares some similarities with my fic. These similarities are coincidental. After posting a poll about the topic, I decided to share this work anyway. Please know I am aware of the situation!

Rating: Mature. Minors, do not interact

Word Count: 5,200

Warnings: A lot of backstory, trespassing, lying about identity, alcohol consumption, flirting, references to Regency-era values. Author played fast and loose with rules of Regency dining etiquette.

Next | Masterlist

---

It was of some comfort to you that - when the situation inevitably unraveled - you could not claim to have invented the idea yourself.

You were hardly the first seamstress who used her skills to disguise herself. Nor were you the first to use her overheard knowledge to learn who may be hosting a masquerade ball so she could attend.

To that end, Madame Delacroix had told you of her own experience infiltrating the ton’s events. You had learned well, but you were merely another follower, not a visionary. The penalty for your transgression would not change, but your conscience would be eased slightly with the knowledge.

The single inspiration you could claim as entirely your own was that of your shop. You purchased gowns at the end of every season, researched coming trends for the next season, and altered the gowns to fit.

Ladies of rich and respectable families were willing to part with gowns for a relative pittance, but most of your gowns were from society matrons. When their time playing chaperone to some wide-eyed miss had ended in a successful engagement, the lucky matron retired to a comfortable life in the countryside. What use did she have for extravagant society gowns there? And, with the style of gathers and ruffles for married women, you could easily fashion multiple gowns from one matronly dress.

Your shop was hardly the most popular one in London, but you ran a brisk enough business. There were no investors to keep fat with your profits, and you poured most of your money back into the materials and help you hired. It could tax the nerves to operate with such a small amount of money in your coffers, but such was the nature of the business. The lead-in to a season was incredibly busy and profitable, but the off season could ruin you.

But you were happy. Your work was varied and interesting. You worked with sumptuous fabrics in the richest colors. It was a necessity to keep abreast of the latest fashion trends. You truly could not have imagined a better life for yourself.

And yet… you were unbearably curious about how it would feel to wear one of your creations. You were occasionally hired to style a hopeful debutante, but you handed her off to a chaperone before she walked out through the front door of her own home. You witnessed all of the preparations and you had been party to the aftermath, but you had never had the opportunity to attend a ball.

It was a silly dream. You were the daughter of a tailor, and not one who served the upper echelons of London society. Your mother spent her time running the household herself - a necessity, as your family could not afford to keep servants. Your brother worked at a newspaper, operating the printing presses. Your sister had married well, wedding a butcher who lived above his shop in a respectable section of the city.

You had already achieved one silly dream when you had opened your own shop. Rather than satisfying you, that achievement only convinced you that you were capable of incredible things. Why should a ball be the exception?

Fortunately, the ton was an uninspired thing and thus wholly predictable. At least once every season, at least one family believed themselves to be the most creative souls and hosted a masquerade.

Your ability to foresee the trend had allowed you to plan far in advance. After the last season had ended and you made your purchases, you had bought just enough fabric to fashion yourself a dress. The material was simple, but of high quality, and you had embroidered beading and embellishment enough to allot the finished product an artistic simplicity rather than leaving it painfully plain.

The mask you had chosen only assisted the illusion of being understatedly gilded. It was a shining silver - not a true metallic mask, but a close enough facsimile that it seemed to be a choice due to the weight rather than the price of the silver. There was a delicate tracery over your brow and along the swells where the mask arched over your cheekbones.

The effect of the outfit was far from dramatic, especially when you very well knew the sort of dresses that the young ladies of the ton would be wearing at the ball, but you had been purposeful about it. You were trying to fade into the background, and it seemed likely that you would succeed.

One of your more clever ideas had been to cut the dress as a matronly garment rather than a daring one meant for a debutante. Doing so would relegate you to the realm of mamas, chaperones, and spinsters. Few bothered to steal a second glance at that foreboding cloud of judgment, disapproval, and eager plotting. You were too pragmatic to think your plan foolproof, but you had taken as many precautions as you could imagine.

The Lawsons had been the ones to secure a masquerade theme for the season, and you strategically arrived at the home at eleven, a full hour after the ball had begun. It was a simple thing to slip around the corner of the great manor house, entering through a side corridor. When you passed any of the house’s servants, you ducked your head and nervously arranged your hair.

With that attitude and countenance, they would likely believe you were returning from some secret tryst in a private place, not attempting to sneak in entirely. Servants were paid for their discretion - at least, in the eyes of the ton - so your exploits would not be disseminated until the following morning at the earliest.

Your matron-styled dress allowed for a more flexible corset than the most fashionable styles, but you still found that your breath was short as you reached the ballroom. You were thankful for the music, as it gave you a better idea of where your ultimate goal was.

The room was cavernous, yet filled to the brim with intricate details. A second-story balcony curved around the majority of the room, rather like the opera house you’d had the privilege to visit once. A grand staircase descended from the middle of that balcony, and it was full of still-arriving debutantes and their chaperones.

The orchestra was sat on the balcony along either side of the staircase, and you noted the way each instrument seemed to take precedence in turn as you walked along the length of the floor. They were playing a quadrille at the moment, and the dancing couples seemed as enamored by the music as much as by each other.

Above and all around, candles glowed and flickered, casting small pools of light across every surface. A chandelier hung overhead, eye-catching in its size and brightness. The crystals set among the candles sent tiny reflected rainbows dancing across the crowd beneath. The reflectors behind the candles on the main floor helped catch the brightness that would otherwise be wasted on the walls, throwing it out into the room until it looked near daylight. The effect was multiplied by an array of mirrors set around the room, refracting both light and the furor of activity in the ballroom.

Conversations filled any spaces left in the music. Everywhere, men and women chatted, laughed, and told stories. They were eye-catching with their grand gestures, only made more fascinating with their ornate clothing. You longed for a scrap of paper so you could make note of the styles of this season, and how they might be adapted to meet the styles of the next.

A table at one side of the room was manned by a servant offering refreshments. You knew from the stories you had heard that a supper would be served at one, but there were beverages for any guest or dancer who may need one. You accepted a glass of iced punch with a grateful nod to the servant. It was remarkably hot in the room, especially compared to the chill of the January evening.

Sipping the strong punch - and abruptly understanding the wisdom of such small glasses - you ventured forth to find a vantage point for observing the crowd.

You found one buried in the crowd of matrons and chaperones. They were watching the dance floor with great interest, speculating about matches and comparing notes on how the gentlemen and young ladies had been occupying themselves during the season thus far. It was the perfect location - a view of everything and in earshot of all the information you could possibly desire. Some of the information was likely to be nothing more than rumor, but you cared little. It was entertaining enough to compensate for a lack of veracity.

“Benedict!” one woman called. She was a handsome woman, dark hair perfectly coiffed to match her elegant dress. You recognized her even from behind as the widowed Lady Bridgerton.

A man separated from a group of other young men and approached, smiling expectantly. He bore a strong resemblance to Lady Bridgerton, and was wearing the simple black mask that seemed popular among the men of the ballroom. “Yes, Mother?”

“Do dance with Miss Harper this evening,” Lady Bridgerton instructed. “She needs cheering after the loss of her uncle. And she would be quite an excellent match for you.”

You wrinkled your nose. Arranged marriages were less common than they had been when you were a child, but the aristocracy still tended to take a heavy hand in deciding their children’s future spouses.

Unfortunately, the young Bridgerton glanced over his mother’s shoulder and took in your expression. You hurriedly glanced down at your glass, as if your face had been a reaction to the strong punch, then applied yourself to staring around the room.

“I will take that under advisement, Mother,” Benedict said. Your wayward glance prevented you from seeing his face, but his voice was filled with laughter. “If you’ll excuse me?”

He departed then, retreating back across the ballroom. However, you were far from unobservant, and you counted the multiple times he noted your position from among the group of laughing gentlemen. You did your utmost to ignore him, taking solace in the knowledge that your mask protected your identity from whatever scrutiny he may choose to apply.

You could hardly pretend surprise when you found him standing beside you scarcely an hour after you had overheard the conversation between Lady Bridgerton and her son. He was facing quite the opposite direction, but you could not fail to miss the way he inched closer every time you took a step away.

At long last, he bumped into you with his broad shoulder, sloshing your punch onto the floor and still refusing to acknowledge you.

“And to think Bridgertons are said to be well-mannered,” you snipped waspishly.

He glanced back at you, eyes bright. “I beg your pardon, miss. I did not see you. Allow me to fetch you a new glass of punch in recompense for my rudeness.”

“No, thank you,” you said, the coldness in your voice detracting from the politeness of your words. “I would not take the risk of another incident.”

“Did it stain your gown?” he asked, taking your elbow and looking you up and down. However solicitous it may have seemed at first, the mischief in his expression belied the gesture.

You glared at him until he dropped your arm. “You need not feign concern, Lord Bridgerton. You have apologized, I have accepted it, and my gown escaped the incident unscathed. There is no need to continue our acquaintance.”

With a final frown for good measure, you turned away. Benedict seemed undaunted, keeping step with you as you found a servant to take your near-empty glass.

“May I ask your name, then?” Benedict asked, for all the world like you had not dismissed him.

“Lady Sharp.”

It was a falsehood you had planned well in advance. The Sharps were one of the largest families in London, some branches so far-flung that no one seemed capable of remembering who was who.

Despite your confidence in your assumed identity, Benedict paused for a moment and your heart stuttered. At long last, he smiled. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Perhaps if you continued to be short with him, Benedict would understand that he should leave you well enough alone.

And yet… The young Bridgerton continued to stay close as you watched the dancers, interrupting your overheard bits of gossip with remarks of his own. His commentary was amusing, but you continued to be irked by his presence. He was drawing attention by standing with the chaperones, dowagers, and doting mothers, and some of that attention was reflected onto you by virtue of proximity.

“You need not remain close as some form of apology, Lord Bridgerton,” you informed him at last. “You have more than adequately apologized for your earlier misstep, and I would rather not be on the receiving end of your mother’s scorn if you miss your dance with Miss Harper.”

Benedict shrugged. “Miss Harper is occupied well enough with other partners. It is my duty to see to it that every lady may dance if she chooses. Shall we?”

You frowned deeply, staring from his face to his proffered arm and back. “I do not dance.”

He paused at that. “Surely you are simply being modest…”

“I assure you, I mean what I say,” you told him, voice appalled, “I do not dance. If you feel a particular urge toward the dance floor, I urge you heed it and find a suitable partner before they have all been otherwise engaged.”

Benedict turned slightly, his gaze traveling from one end of the crowded ballroom to the other. When he had completed the visual circuit, he faced you, grinning engagingly once more. “I appreciate your concern, but I would rather continue our conversation.”

Your mouth fell inelegantly open. Thankfully, the room was called to attention before you could loose a scathing comment about your time together.

Lady Lawson stood at the bottom of her grand staircase, Lord Lawson standing attentively to her left. A servant you recognized as their butler announced in a booming - yet not abrasive - voice, “Lord and Lady Lawson invite you to adjourn to the dining rooms.”

To your dismay, the men and women of the ballroom paired together. The crowd moved steadily in the direction indicated by the butler.

Benedict offered his arm once more. “May I escort you to the dining room, Lady Sharp?”

You paused, frantically searching for a reason you might excuse yourself. If the Lawsons had arranged for their guests to sit in predetermined places, your presence would not only be marked, but commented upon and questioned. And yet, the gathered crowd meant that slipping away would be nigh impossible.

“Lady Sharp?” Benedict asked again, pulling you from your thoughts. “You are attending dinner, are you not?”

“Yes… yes, of course,” you said, immediately belied by your trembling voice. From a sheer lack of options, you accepted Benedict’s arm. “Thank you, Lord Bridgerton.”

He inclined his head as if to silently acknowledge your thanks and steered you into the dining room.

Truly, there was far more than one room in which to dine. There seemed to be at least three hosting tables set with full arrays of silver plates and utensils. The dining areas seemed far less brightly lit than the ballroom was, the low lighting offering a soft intimacy that made the surrounding couples perk with excitement. Clearly, the flirtations of the dance floor would not be suspended due to a simple supper.

“May I help you find your seats, sir?”

You had been too entranced by your own thoughts - the sudden appearance of the servant made you start like a spooked horse. Benedict patted your hand. The gesture was a bit condescending, but you found it oddly soothing. Far more worrisome, however, was the sight of small name cards resting at every place setting on the tables.

“Benedict Bridgerton,” he said. “I believe I was to be seated with my family a few tables behind you. This is Lady Sharp. I will dine with her this evening.”

“But sir…” The servant looked bemused, white brows drawing together. “Lady Lawson was informed that the Sharps would not be in London for this year’s season. Lady Sharp reported that Miss Rosalie Sharp was far too ill to be moved out of her confinement in the countryside.”

You stammered weak protests, but Benedict smoothly interrupted. “Surely Lady Lawson is aware that Lady Clara Sharp decided to winter in London this year. The physician said that a change of scenery would be good after leaving a confinement of her own.”

“A confinement of her-?” The servant shook his head. “My mistress said nothing of this when she was preparing the ball.”

You gathered your nerve. If your ruse were to fall apart, it would not be at the hand of an overly curious servant. You drew yourself up to your full height, giving your best steely-eyed, matronly disapproval. “I had assumed that my lack of an invitation was no more than an ignorant oversight. However, I begin to suspect that it was something far more intentional. Perhaps it would be best if I departed…”

“My apologies, Lady Sharp,” the servant hurried to say. “Please, allow me to find a place for you.”

You inclined your head in the shallowest nod you could muster, watching imperiously as he rushed off to find a place setting for the fictitious Lady Clara Sharp.

“These events are growing less organized by the day,” Benedict confided, shaking his head in mock despair.

The servant returned, sparing you the effort of inventing a response. “I will guide you to your seat, Lady Sharp. Lord Bridgerton, you requested your seat moved beside Lady Sharp’s, did you not?”

“Yes, I believe I should like to dine with Lady Sharp,” Benedict said amiably.

“Very good, sir,” the servant said. “This way.”

You did not particularly enjoy the tone with which Benedict said ‘Lady Sharp’. In his voice, it sounded less like a title and more like a private sort of jest.

Fortunately, your arrival in a far dining room provided a much-needed distraction. This was clearly the last table to have been filled, and as such was seated with an interesting amalgamation of people.

A timid-looking young lady sat nervously adjusting and readjusting the skirt of her dress. Her watchful chaperone eyed the process with fascination and concern. Seated at the chaperone’s other side was an older gentleman who seemed to have overindulged in punch, if you were to guess from his flushed face and exaggerated gestures.

On the other side of the table was a young man who kept glancing at the young lady and pretending that it had been accidental any time he was caught at it. Beside him were two place settings. From the lack of name cards above the plates, you assumed they were meant for you and Benedict.

Abruptly, a wave of vertigo washed over you. You had accomplished so much to be here, yet how many accomplishments were too many? It was as if you had climbed something terribly tall - every time you moved upward, it only left you with further to fall. And if you were to be discovered during this dinner? You would have very far to fall indeed.

“Are you well?” Benedict asked.

You blinked. The servant was holding your chair, waiting to help you be seated. You weren’t hungry in the least, but there was no way to excuse yourself that would not draw more attention than was wise. The only way to return to safety was to continue on as if nothing were amiss.

“Yes, thank you,” you demurred, moving to your seat.

When the skirt of your dress was safely tucked under the table, the servant offered a slight bow and moved away. The first course was laid out on the table, a manservant lingering nearby incase someone required a dish from a different part of the table.

“What may I tempt you with?” Benedict asked. His smile was a touch too wide for the question to be entirely innocent. Before you could say something harsh, he half-stood, fork extended toward a dish holding chilled cuts of meat.

You took a moment to study everything. “Roast chicken, please. And perhaps a few prawns.”

Benedict took your plate and began transferring the items you had requested. “Soup as well?”

“Perhaps a little.”

You eyed the women across the table. The young lady was picking delicately at a few scraps of meat and you were concerned by the quantity of the choices you had made, but her chaperone was tucking into a plate piled high.

Benedict placed your dishes back in front of you and gathered his own selections. When you were both seated again, you cut a piece of chicken and ate it as delicately as you could manage. It was delicious and you congratulated yourself once more on choosing to attend the ball dressed as a chaperone rather than a debutante.

“So, a Sharp in London,” Benedict mused. “I rather believed you all traveled together. Like a herd or a pack.”

You gave him an unamused look at the animal references. “And you pretended to know all of my family’s concerns when we were finding our seats. Do you always lie to achieve your own ends?”

He gave a wince, but it was decidedly playful. “‘Lie’ is such a harsh word, Lady Sharp. I simply choose the path most likely to lead to my destination and follow it.”

“By lying?”

“And I suppose you are a paragon of virtue?” he asked, and you fell silent. It would be rather paradoxical for you to blame him for a lie when you were currently lying to an entire ballroom of people.

“That was not an admonishment,” he clarified after a moment. “Nor was it a bid to halt our conversation. I was enjoying myself.”

“From what I have gathered of your temperament, I doubt you often suffer from the lack of enjoyment,” you snipped. “You seem to find infinite amusement in everything surrounding you.”

Benedict’s eyes widened. “I… am flattered, truly, that you’ve taken such pains to truly detail my character. Perhaps I should return the favor.”

“Do not.” You regretted the warning a moment after you had issued it. Rather than looking dissuaded, Benedict seemed intrigued.

“Indeed, I may be unable to help myself,” he mused. “Your motivations are fascinating, and they would be even more so if you turned out not to be Lady Sharp after all.”

“I am Lady Sharp,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Of course you are,” he agreed easily. “But imagine if you were not. Why would you pretend to be?”

Your mind halted abruptly when faced with the task of imagining your own motivations as if they belonged to another. What should you say? What could you say? For all of his casually friendly demeanor, Benedict was not stupid. It was possible that your false theories of your own motivations would provide him with proof that you were the very person you pretended to understand.

But still, the rules of polite conversation required that you provide some sort of an answer. Your voice was slow as you asked, “Who can begin to guess at the motivations of the poor?”

It was more harsh than you had imagined it would sound, but Benedict did not recoil. Instead, he replied, “Motivations are mysterious, those of the poor and the nobility alike.”

The answer was vague, but you understood why - his eyes were fixed on the young lady at the end of the table and the young man seated across from her.

“Miss Barrett, I found the most interesting flower in the park yesterday afternoon-” he started.

He had the young lady’s attention immediately, a shy smile on her thin face, but her chaperone pointedly cleared her throat before the young lady could reply. “Elisa, it is not proper for you to answer him without being formally introduced.”

“Finnie and I have been friends since before we could walk!” Elisa argued.

“His name is Lord Finlay Spencer,” the chaperone corrected. “And your childhood acquaintanceship does not matter. You have not been officially introduced in the time since he returned to London.”

The young pair fumed silently, with nothing more than frustrated glances shared between them.

“Lady Barrett,” Benedict said abruptly, drawing the attention of everyone who longed to be distracted from the tension. “I understand you are a most loyal patron of the arts. Is that so?”

“It is so, Lord Bridgerton,” Lady Barrett confirmed. “I believe in the importance of preserving artwork for years to come.”

“As do I.” Benedict smiled at her… and at the red-faced man seated to her right. “And our sentiments are shared by our companion, Lord Hopkins. He has recently donated a number of works to your preferred museum. I believe they are to name a wing in his honor.”

Lady Barrett turned to Lord Hopkins, an expression of mingled surprise and admiration. “I recently took in the Hopkins collection. Most impressive, Lord Hopkins.”

Lord Hopkins blinked rapidly, clearly attempting to gather himself. He made an admirable effort as he returned her smile. “You are too kind, Lady Barrett. I mourn the loss of those works, yet they were wasted with only my family to appreciate them. And, if you will pardon my directness, I believe I may have been the only one of the Hopkins family to truly appreciate them.”

“I am certain the Hopkins family has an interest in art ,” Lady Barrett demurred, “though I understand the sense that one has a keener appreciation for art than those around oneself.”

With such a topic brought up, the pair slipped into conversation. Lord Finlay Spencer and Lady Elisa Barrett cast grateful glances in Benedict’s direction and began to speak in softened tones to avoid drawing the attention of the elder Lady Barrett.

“Neatly done,” you complimented lowly. “Yet it prompts me to wonder how often you concern yourself in the affairs of others.”

Benedict shrugged. “I simply enjoy pulling strings to see what unravels. Perhaps that is why I find you so interesting.”

You arched your brows. “And precisely what string of mine do you believe yourself to be pulling?”

“That you are not Lady Sharp, of course.”

He took a sip of wine as you fought to control your expression, and his utter lack of concern was infuriating.

“Are we to continue this thought experiment, then?” you asked at last. “In truth, I am beginning to find it tiresome.”

“I do not need you to confirm my theory,” Benedict told you. “I have gathered proof enough of my own since we met.”

“Proof?” you asked, attempting to sound skeptical rather than afraid.

“You did not wait for an introduction, you claim not to dance, and you did not shyly simper away when I touched your arm,” he listed. “You are no more a lady than I.”

These arguments were presented without censure, but you loosed an inelegant snort regardless. It was foolish and you knew it, but you could not prevent yourself from showing your own powers of observation: “You are wearing a fine silk shirt, a perfectly pressed cravat, and more perfume than anyone else in the room. I am a lady, so it follows that you may be one as well.”

Benedict - unbelievably - grinned at your insults, his eyes crinkling at the edges. You fought not to return the expression, though you found it remarkably contagious. “I believe it is called ‘cologne’ when it is worn by a man. I confess, I’ve never quite understood the difference myself.”

“If you believe I am a fraud, why have you kept me company all evening?” you asked. It was not a confirmation of his suspicions, but it was close enough to make your heart race.

“You are interesting,” he countered. “Certainly the most interesting person here, and among the most interesting people I have ever met.”

You would have found a reason to cut the conversation short if Benedict had pressed for any further information, but he did not. Instead, you continued speaking plainly together through the remaining courses. He wanted to learn your opinions on all manner of things, from politics to the latest fashions.

When the time came to return to the dance floor, he stayed close. He was charming and amusing, but refused to be parted from your side. It could have been cloying, but you privately thought him akin to a particularly amiable sort of burr.

After a few dances had passed, Lady Bridgerton approached, nodding to you with an assessing sort of look. However, she spoke to her son rather than question you. You were grateful for the slight. “Benedict, I believe I asked you to dance with Miss Harper.”

“You did, Mother,” Benedict agreed, “but Lady Sharp and I are speaking of important matters. I could not possibly tear myself away.”

Lady Bridgerton gave him a look filled with motherly disapproval and you cleared your throat. “Lord Bridgerton, we may speak at another time. The number of dances at this ball is limited and the hour grows late. I fear Miss Harper will be fully occupied if you delay longer.”

Lady Bridgerton turned, triumphant, to her son. Benedict sighed and bowed shallowly in your direction. “I beg your pardon, Lady Sharp. I look forward to continuing our conversation after this dance.”

He wove his way through the crowd, presumably in the direction of Miss Harper. Lady Bridgerton remained by your side, and you glanced at her in the silence. She met your gaze, tilting her head curiously in a manner that reminded you of her son. “I do not believe we have met, Lady Sharp. I am Lady Violet Bridgerton.”

You returned her nod with one of your own. “Lady Clara Sharp. Lovely to meet you.”

“I was unaware that any of the Sharp family were in London this season-” she started. Thankfully, she was interrupted by the arrival of a dark-haired young lady.

“Mama, I need to speak with you-”

“Eloise, I am not-”

“Mama, please!” the girl insisted, tugging at her mother’s elbow. Lady Bridgerton studied you for another moment before giving an apologetic smile and allowing her daughter to pull her away.

As cues went, it was a fairly clear one. You steadily worked your way through the crowd until you could slip into an unguarded hall. From there, it was a simple thing to leave the Lawson house, find the cloak you had stored in a disused shed, and travel back to your shop.

When you had removed the mask and the dress, you took careful stock of the evening. The dress and mask would need to be destroyed, and you regretted not bidding a true farewell to Benedict Bridgerton, but you considered the endeavor a success.

One that could never be repeated.

---

Author's Note - As usual with Fanfic February fics, this is a two-parter. Tomorrow's chapter will have spice in it, so please be warned.

Thanks for reading!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2024 #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #fem!reader #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #reader insert fic #not suitable for minors #minors dni

107 notes · View notes

lonelym00n · 1 year

Text

There's no one else I'd rather kidnap

Part 2 of The Devil Likes the Pirate Series

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Summary: At the diner, Tara catches you up on what happened at the party. A surprise guest cuts things short.

A/N: I can't believe how well the first part of this did! It makes me so happy to know that people actually like these silly little fics of mine. I was debating on posting this tomorrow instead, but it's more fun to do it now, so here you go!

After an undefined amount of time spent enduring what you’d classify as one of the highest forms of torture (Tara’s relentless teasing), you finally felt as though you could stand without immediately collapsing. You rose slowly and gathered your belongings before turning to face the impish girl, “I feel disgusting. I’m gonna head back to my dorm, shower and change, and then we can go.”

As you turn to leave, she calls out in a tone that you can’t quite identify. Distressed maybe? “Wait!”

You whipped around to face her and immediately regretted the rushed movement as the pounding from earlier returned to your head. You clutched your head and swore under your breath. “Yes?”

She looked hesitant and unsure, but you were in too much pain to even attempt to question her odd behavior. She bit her lip in contemplation before she spoke, “I should come with you to your room.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion and you scanned her face puzzledly. It was a bit of a weird thing for her to say and you might’ve even ventured out to ask why, but the hints of anxiety and unease in her expression made you bite your tongue. Seeing no reason for why she couldn’t come with you to your room, you nodded, “Yeah sure.” You thought for another second before groaning aloud, “God I hope my roommate isn’t there. She sucks.”

Tara was visibly relieved that you didn’t turn down or question her abnormal request. She sprung up from the bed, retrieved a tote bag out of the closet, and scrambled around the room to collect a few articles of clothing and her phone. Once she was done scurrying around, she turned towards you and gestured in the direction of the door. “Lead the way.”

You hummed as you opened the door and recognized the building you were in as the one just next to where you resided. The two of you made the short trip over to your building and quickly appeared in front of your door. You knocked twice and let out a quiet cheer when no response came from inside the room. You unlocked the door and pushed it open.

The room you had been placed in was slightly bigger than most of the other freshmen dorms, something that had you very excited when you read about it on the admissions website. Even better than that, you were one of the lucky few to have a small bathroom attached to your room. You loved your room because it made you feel like you had won the lottery. Well, you did get the short end of the stick on the roommate side of the equation, but that’s besides the point.

You and Tara stepped into the room and you closed the door and turned the lock shut once you were both safely inside. Her weird mood from earlier reappeared for a second at the click of the lock, but it disappeared swiftly as she swept her gaze across the room. Her mischievous grin returned and she quirked a brow, her eyes twinkling. “Which side is yours?”

You held your breath as you pointed to your side of the room. You hoped she didn’t find anything too embarrassing to tease you about, but secretly, you were more worried about if she’d like your decorations. You didn’t have anything out of the ordinary, the decor mostly consisting of posters displaying musical artists you liked, a few pieces of pottery you had painted, a small collection of books, and the stuffed teddy bear you had smartly named Mr. Hugs.

She turned towards you once she finished her investigation. She gave you a thumbs up, signaling that your living space had passed the unspoken test of what she thought of your interests. “You have good taste. Well done.”

You smiled at the praise and internally jumped for joy at her approval of your room. “Pleased to hear it, Inspector Tara.”

She broke into a fit of laughter at your goofiness. “My god you’re such a dork. Had I known you were a nerd I would’ve chosen someone else to kidnap last night.” Despite your want to be (fake) offended, you couldn’t hold back a grin at the mention of what the two of you were referring to your odd predicament as.

Your face twists into a smirk as you lightly slap her shoulder and scoff, “Oh please I’m way better than anyone else you could’ve picked.”

She pretends to think for a second, “Hm nope, definitely not.”

You roll your eyes playfully at her response. “Whatever loser, you’re the one stuck with me now.” She pokes her tongue out at you and you flip her off in return.

“Welp,” you clap, “I’m gonna shower and get ready, feel free to make yourself comfortable wherever you like.”

You smile at her and pad over to the bathroom. Once you’re in the solitude of the shower, you grin like an idiot. Tara’s easily the prettiest girl you’ve ever talked to and while you still don’t remember the events of last night, you are grateful for whatever you’d done to end up in her company. Like a lovesick puppy, you think of her throughout the entirety of your shower.

You finish up quickly and dress yourself into the clothes you had picked out for yourself. You went through your post-shower routine relatively quickly and paused before you exited the bathroom. You could just barely make out Tara’s soft voice speaking hurriedly. You slowly opened the bathroom door, making sure she noticed that you were about to leave the bathroom before reentering the room.

The sight of her half laying half sitting on your bed made a spark of joy shoot up your spine. The two of you exchanged small smiles as she exchanged her goodbyes to whoever she had been conversing with on the phone. You grabbed your shoes and perched on the edge of your bed as you pulled them on.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as her hand reached out and lightly stroked through your hair. You turned crimson at her action and she bit her lip in delight at the sight of your darkened cheeks. She removed her hand and at your questioning look, sat up fully on the bed. “What?” she asked nonchalantly. “Your hair looks really soft when it’s wet.”

You tried your best not to gape at her. Nervously laughing, you cleared your throat before speaking, “Oh, thanks.” You look up at her to find that she’s already eyeing you with a gentle gaze. Your heart thuds so loud as you maintain eye contact that you swear she can hear it. Deciding to break the silence you clear your throat again, “Well, uh, feel free to use the bathroom to change or get ready, if there’s anything along those lines that you want to do before we go.”

She shoots you a double thumbs up (you have half a mind to laugh at her strange affinity to keep reusing the gesture) and you watch as she strides into the bathroom with her tote bag firmly in hand.

She gets ready swiftly and without a hitch, the two of you begin the short walk towards the small diner located just off campus that she tells you she frequents.

When her hand reaches out to interlace her fingers with yours, you definitely don’t blush at how perfect it feels to hold hands with her.

***

The start of your meal follows the same pattern that the earlier hours of the day held. The two of you pass jabs back and forth and she grins in delight whenever she catches the red hue that rises up in your cheeks. It’s not until your food arrives that the reason behind the two of you coming to the diner is brought up.

Tara’s expression hardens as you finally ask her to relay the events of last night to you. She sighs deeply and chews into her lip nervously.

In an attempt to comfort her, you place your hand on top of hers. “Tara,” you speak gently even though you’re unsure of why she looks so nervous, “It’s okay, I won’t be mad or weird about whatever happened. You helped me, hell you even let me stay in your room for the night. You can tell me.”

She sucks in a breath and turns your joined hands over to wordlessly play with your fingers. It seems to calm her down as she opens her mouth to inform you of what happened. “Okay. Well I have no idea how you got there, so I can’t help you remember that part.” You nod in understanding.

She continues, “I was watching my friends dance and teasing them for how horrible they are at it.” She laughs softly to herself at the memory. “Anika caught you watching us and she said she thought you were looking at me. It was hard to tell because you were so far away and tucked into a corner of the room.”

You blush for the millionth time, of course your drunk self had been way too obvious about checking Tara out. “Anika waved you towards us and when I thought you were finally gonna make your way over, some douchey frat guy wearing an angel costume wrapped his arm around you. My friends and I were kind of shocked at the sight, especially Mindy because she swore you were giving her “vibes”.”

She wiggles her eyebrows at the mention of your “vibes” and you look away, laughing to yourself at the thought of one of her friends catching onto your sexuality. “Anyways, it seemed like you and the guy were together. I thought it was a little off considering you had just been blushing at having been caught watching us, but the two of you were matching so we just assumed we had the wrong idea earlier.”

You nod, “That makes sense. So what happened next?”

She suddenly looks hesitant again and you curl your fingers even tighter around hers and give them a reassuring squeeze. You furrow your brow. Despite offering your reassurance to Tara, you were starting to get a little nervous yourself. She begins again, slowly, “He pulled you somewhere, I couldn’t see where. We went back to dancing but I couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong, so I kept glancing around to see if I could spot you again. When I did, you were standing with him and a whole group of guys. They were laughing so loudly about something, but the guy wearing the angel costume was leering down at you so creepily. You didn’t notice, I think you were looking around the room.”

Your chest feels tight and you hope that you are wrong about what you think might’ve happened next.

“I saw that you were drinking out of a cup and that’s when I got really worried. You couldn’t stand still, you looked like you were about to topple over any second. You looked really really drunk, Y/N, and compared to how you had looked when we caught you watching us earlier, you were about a hundred times worse.”

Tears brimmed your eyes at what you were being told. Tara notices and joins her empty hand with your own. Her hold on you is so gentle yet so firm and it feels as though she’s your only anchor in what is quickly becoming a terrible storm. You mumble for her to tell you the rest, and she does, paying close attention to your face.

She speaks so softly, like one word spoken too loudly will cause you to crumble. “I don’t know if he put something in your drink or if it was just made way too strong. But when I realized what was likely going on, I told Anika and Mindy and they agreed that we needed to get you away from him. We tried waving to get your attention but you didn’t catch on to it. The guy started dragging you towards the stairs and we were all so scared. My friend Chad was with us and when we told him what was going on he stormed over to cut the boy off.”

You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and they started flowing freely down your face. You could feel your lip trembling and Tara got up to slide into your side of the booth, pulling you into a hug. She whispered tiny words of comfort into your hair while she waited for your tears to slow. Once they did, she pulled back slightly to wrap up the night’s events, “While Chad and the boy shoved each other, I pulled you away. We tried to ask you if you knew the guy or if you had any friends at the party, but you were so out of it that I don’t even know if you knew what we were asking. The only piece of information we got out of you was your name. We left the party and took you outside and that’s when we decided that one of us would just have to take you in for the night. I volunteered to stay with you because after everything that I saw, I needed to make sure you were okay.”

You hug her tighter, silently expressing all that you were feeling.

“On the walk back, it was like the last sober part of you drifted away completely. That’s when you started openly flirting with me and let me tell you, you said some pretty interesting stuff.”

You let out a watery laugh at your own drunken expense. Tara laughs with you and her hands delicately reach up to smooth your tears away. You gaze at her and you don’t care if your eyes give away your every emotion, because in this moment you are so entirely grateful for the girl sitting in front of you.

After a long while, you turn your head and slowly press a shaky kiss to the hand lightly stroking your cheek. She makes no move to stop running her hand along your face. You enjoy her touch too much to ever even consider asking her to put a pause to it.

Taking a deep breath, you prepare a response to all that she’s told you. “Tara, I can’t even begin to tell you how thankful I am that you were there. That you noticed what was going on. I mean without you I could’ve been… I-” You exhale steadily and continue, “You literally saved me from experiencing one of the worst things and you didn’t even know me. I feel so stupid that I wasn’t looking out for myself, but for some reason, you were. And I’ll never be able to repay you for that or even tell you how much it means to me.”

Unshed tears sit in both of your eyes and Tara scoots impossibly closer to you. “You don’t need to thank me. I’d do it all over a thousand different times just to be sure I wouldn’t have to see you get hurt.”

Something about how she says the words makes you think they might mean something a bit more to her, but you don’t comment on that. Instead, you’re more focused on how her eyes are darting from your eyes to your lips. “You’re the only thing that I remember from that party Tara. And I can’t help but think it’s for a reason.”

You lean so closely into her that you’re able to count every freckle that’s splashed across her face. Your nose bumps gently into hers and you wait with bated breath to see if she’ll close the gap between your lips. Just as she’s about to, her phone buzzes incessantly, signaling the inflow of a large amount of notifications.

You go to pull back, thinking you’d either gotten the wrong idea or that the moment had been broken, but she stops you from moving away with a hand nestled softly into the hair at the nape of your neck. She inches closer to you and when your lips finally do meet, it feels as though the storm of emotions that this girl brings out in you has churned to an all time high.

Your lips crash into each other repeatedly and you don’t even think Moses could pull you away from the addictive taste of Tara’s lips. Her phone continuously buzzing from its spot in her tote bag goes completely ignored by the two of you.

Annoyingly enough, you do need oxygen eventually. You gently push away from Tara but make sure to press your lips together once more before fully exiting her space.

Tara looks uncharacteristically shy, wearing a soft smile that accentuates her endearing dimples. Her nose wrinkles cutely as you softly bop her on the nose.

Her expression shifts slightly and it seems as though she’s deep in thought. You wait patiently for her to bring up whatever is on her mind. Just as she goes to speak, the diner’s doorbell rings and out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone speeding towards your booth.

You and Tara whip your heads in the direction of the heavy stomps. You are met with the sight of someone who looks strikingly similar to Tara.

The woman slams her hands down on the table, making the silverware fly up into the air at the force. You flinch and Tara groans, her face twisting up in frustration.

“What the fuck Tara!” The woman is so clearly pissed off. You can see how her whole body trembles with her anger.

Tara sighs deeply, “Sam look-”

The woman cuts her off, “No Tara, seriously what the fuck do you think you’re doing? I went to check on you last night and found Mindy and Anika in your bed. You weren’t anywhere to be found and I texted you and called you so many different times throughout the night and you didn’t answer once! I couldn’t sleep at all, I was worried sick thinking something had happened to you!”

The woman, Sam you think Tara had called her, is breathing raggedly and there’s a noticeable streak of panic in her eyes. “And then when I finally catch wind of you, it’s from overhearing you tell Mindy you were going out to a diner. I searched every diner in the city to find you Tara and you what, try to offer me a simple explanation?”

Tara’s level of frustration has raised exponentially throughout Sam’s rant. She’s practically vibrating in her seat and your eyes widen at the situation you’re caught in the middle of. Her teeth grind together and a wild look that rivals Sam’s appears in her eyes. “God Sam if you would ever let me speak and would stop being so goddamn overbearing all the time, maybe I could actually speak to you and have a normal conversation about things for once! I don’t owe you any explanation at all for what I choose to do Sam, this is my life! You can’t control me every second of every day!”

Sam gets impossibly angrier. “Are you serious? You know why I care so much about where you are so don’t even go there! And I don’t want to control you! I’m only trying to protect you!”

Sam turns to look at you and you avert your eyes so fast it’s possible you could’ve gotten whiplash. She laughs in disbelief. “While I’m worried sick about you all night fucking long you’re doing what, having a hookup? Seriously Tara, that’s what you’re choosing to do after everything?”

Your eyes flash with hurt and you recoil as if you’d been slapped. You feel so small under Sam’s scrutinizing gaze.

Tara stands up from the booth and shoves Sam upon hearing her words. “God shut up Sam! You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She glances apologetically at you over her shoulder for a second before she spins back around to face Sam, a whole separate wave of fury taking over her small form.

You can only gulp and try to press yourself into the cushions of the booth.

Sam laughs again, this time flinging her arms up into the air. “Oh really? Because I sure as hell think I do! Let me guess, after knowing that girl for one day, you’re already so damn smitten that you’re willing to look past any the signs that might point to her being an absolute lunatic, just like you did with-”

Tara’s face hardens and her jaw clenches so hard it might shatter. “Don’t!” She practically barks the word out as her finger presses into Sam’s chest.

Sam doesn’t heed the warning, too far gone into whatever rage she has slipped into. “Amber, Tara!” She shouts the words into her sister’s face. “Just like you did with Amber!”

You don’t expect what comes next, and it seems Sam didn’t either. Tara’s hand flies up out of nowhere and lands an open palm smack right onto Sam’s cheek.

Sam gasps and a few tears of shock roll down her face, not even beginning to sooth the burn that spreads across her pulsing face. She goes to say something, her words finally catching up to her but Tara viciously cuts her off. “Get the fuck out Sam,” she spits out the words. “Go outside and wait for me to come out.”

Sam complies, though she stubbornly attempts to apologize again, “I’m so-”

“Get out Sam! Now!” Sam finally trudges out of the diner, hand clutched against where she’d been slapped.

Tara takes a few minutes to calm herself down. You brace yourself, unsure of what was going to come next.

She’s facing you again now and you do the only thing you can think of. Your arms open and you let out a small oomph when Tara’s body slams itself into your embrace. She buries her face into your shoulder for a long moment and in a reversal of the events of this morning, you’re now the one soothingly rubbing her back.

She cries into you and your heart breaks at the way the sobs wrack through her whole body. Once she has stopped crying, you allow her to pull away.

She looks so exhausted from her fight with Sam. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You shush her, “Don’t be sorry baby.”

Her eyes brighten a tad bit at the pet name. “Sam is my incredibly protective older sister,” she explains and you nod, “There’s a whole lot more to that story than I can even begin to say right now.”

You rush to speak, “You don’t owe me an explanation about anything. You can do that some other time.”

She smiles in appreciation but frowns shortly after. “Look, I have to go. I’m gonna go home with Sam, avoid her for a day or two to make her feel guilty, and then I’ll maybe consider talking to her.” She pushes her phone into your hands, opening up the contact app. “Put your number in, I’ll text you tonight and then when things have finally calmed down, I’ll fill you in.”

You punch your number into her phone and give her one last big hug. She sighs happily and you feel a little bit of the stress come off her shoulders. She pulls back and even though you know she really does have to go, you lean up and tenderly kiss the corner of her mouth.

Tara hums in contentment, bops you gently on the nose, and exits the diner.

Tag: @cartierdreamx

Bonus A/N: Fingers crossed it makes sense with the last fic in mind.

#tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #scream fanfic #scream vi #lonelym00n fic

653 notes · View notes