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Midas Touch | n romanoff

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.

Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)

Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader

wc: 7.1k 😬

Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..

-⧗-

Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.

And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.

Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.

Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.

Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.

He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.

These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.

Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.

“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.

“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.

“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.

With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.

Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.

She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.

“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.

“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.

Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.

The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.

“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”

Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”

“Do you read the paper?”

“No, Ma’am.”

Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”

“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”

“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”

“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.

“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.

Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”

“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”

“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”

Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.

“Me?”

“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”

“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”

Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.

Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.

She just wanted to feel good for herself.

But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.

Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.

Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.

“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”

This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.

“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.

“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.

“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.

“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”

‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.

With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.

“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”

Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”

Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.

“I thought-“

“That’s cute.”

Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”

“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”

“No, I wasn’t-“

Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.

“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.

“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”

“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.

With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.

The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.

The lingerie store.

It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.

She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.

Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.

As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.

She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.

Mrs Barnes:

James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)

The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.

Just leaving now. I’ll be there.

When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.

Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.

Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.

“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.

“Mostly just window shopping.”

At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”

“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“

“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”

“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“

“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”

Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.

“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”

Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.

“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”

“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”

“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”

“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”

The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.

“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.

Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.

“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”

“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”

“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.

“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.

“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”

She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.

“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.

She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.

Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.

“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”

“Thank you, really.”

Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?

Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.

Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.

However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.

Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.

Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.

After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.

“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.

“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.

“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”

“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.

“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.

She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.

James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.

“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”

“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”

“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”

“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”

She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?

~~~

Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.

And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.

“What did you talk to him about?”

Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”

“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”

Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”

James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”

“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”

“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”

She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”

That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“

“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”

James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.

An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.

A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.

She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.

Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.

The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.

The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.

Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.

But she wasn’t alone.

A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.

It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.

“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.

But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability

“What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.

“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”

“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“

Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction

“Did he…?”

The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.

“What happened?”

Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.

A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.

With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.

After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”

Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.

Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.

“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.

Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“

“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.

But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”

“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“

“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.

The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.

Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.

But it was too soon.

Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.

“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.

“I’ve got you.”

Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.

“Natasha…”

The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.

“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.

“Maybe.”

The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.

She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.

“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.

What were they doing?

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.

But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #wlw #angst #AU #forbidden love #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #rich wife aesthetic #natasha romanoff hot #black widow

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lunajay33 · 5 months

Text

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

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florencemtrash · 2 months

Text

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Seven

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Violence, suggestive content

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Two months. Two. Fucking. Months. Cassian shook his head, almost impressed.

Quite literally two fucking months.

Cassian’s breath caught in his throat. He half-coughed, half-laughed up the wine he’d been drinking. Nesta thumped his back, a mischievous smirk plastered on her normally severe face.

Rhysand had finally gotten word that you and Azriel would be arriving… well, anytime now. Everyone had piled onto the House of Wind’s roof to await your return, the taste of new gossip already in the air.

Nesta lounged in Cassian’s lap, searching the horizon line for the tell-tale flicker of Azriel’s wings. Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor were too busy placing bets on which of the males — if any — would come out of the fight unscathed to stare at the sky.

“Fifty on Azriel.” Emerie said without hesitation.

There was a clatter of coins.

“I’ve got a good feeling about Helion. The paternal protectiveness might make him especially vicious.” Gwyn reasoned.

“Brotherly protectiveness may prove just as strong. If not stronger.” Was Mor’s opinion. “Lucien and Helion both won against Azriel last time.”

“Az wasn’t trying then.” Emerie argued back. “Sad male that he was.”

The father-son pair tried not to let their egos grow or be injured by the conversation happening so close by. Instead, they engrossed themselves in their third chess game of the morning. It was becoming rather tedious by now. Being the early risers — and overprotective males — that they were, they’d been waiting for hours in the training ring for the first sign of your return.

Alas, nothing so far.

A spread of breakfast plates cluttered the table they played on, silverware stacked neatly on porcelain plates. Save for the knives. Those were kept in close reach.

Rhysand tried to join in on the game, but the two males refused him time and time again. They knew better than to play with a daemati.

“Feyre, darling,” Rhys purred. “Won’t you indulge me?”

She smirked, but slid into her chair beside Nesta and Cassian, and across from her mate. She folded her finger neatly beneath her chin, her wall of adamant strong and impenetrable.

Rhys was about to make his first move — pawn to E4 — when a twinkle in Feyre’s eye told him they had visitors.

Cassian stood up straighter, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face as he cupped his hand to his mouth and whooped.

A full house. You remarked as the House of Wind came into view above the city. Its red stone spires crawled into the sky. Reaching like outstretched fingertips.

The wind sang in your ears, ruffling your hair as you clung to Azriel.

Lucky us. You teased.

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched at the flash of red hair and crown of black locs waiting on the roof.

Helion and Lucien rose slowly, twin smirks gracing their lips as they started unclasping necklaces and tying back their hair.

Is it too late to go back to the Cottage? Azriel growled, dropping to his feet on the House of Wind’s roof.

I’m afraid so. We’ve committed.

You slowly untangled yourself from Azriel’s hold and planted both feet on solid ground. He caught your arm before you could stray too far, tugging you back to his side and wrapping a wing around your shoulders.

“You’re baaaaaack!” Cassian sang, throwing his arm out in a gesture of welcome. “Gods have we missed you both. You especially, Y/n. You look lovely. The mating bond suits you.”

He winked seductively, blowing a kiss in your direction.

Azriel figured Cassian could do without his remaining arm.

“I hope Azriel sufficed for your first time.” Rhysand chimed in. His voice was liquid velvet. By now, Azriel had gone stone still — a dangerous look for the Shadowsinger. “But if you’re ever interested in sampling better fares, Cassian and I—”

Helion slammed into Azriel’s side before he could reach Rhysand, wrapping his powerful arms around Azriel’s middle and throwing him across the room where Lucien waited with fist pulled back.

Remember what we talked about.

Azriel was slippery and cool as he wove in and out between Helion and Lucien’s bodies. He threw out a collection of strikes that had blood splattering on the ground.

Nothing permanent. He growled.

Thank you.

“Did you see that?” Rhysand looked aghast as he settled deep into his seat. “He was going to hit me!” He flipped his cane end over end.

“He has no honor, brother.” Cassian agreed. But both had to admit, there was some satisfaction in getting to watch the fight instead of participating in it.

You slunk around the edges of the training ring, trying to avoid getting too close to the tumble of bodies that were being thrown around like rag dolls.

It would seem there was someone else trying to escape notice.

You blinked in surprise. “What are you doing here, High Lord?”

Eris Vanserra leaned against a stone pillar, foot propped up against the wall as he swirled a glass of wine between bejeweled fingers. Aside from the gold glittering on his knuckles and along his ears, he was dressed like a commoner. His brown riding boots were well-worn with love and his shirt was left open at the top to reveal scarred and freckled skin. He chuckled when Lucien slammed his fist into the side of Azriel’s face with a growl that rattled the columns.

“None of that High Lord business.” He said, swatting the air like the very term offended him. “Call me Eris.” He smiled sideways at you, never taking his full attention off the fight. “Lucien asked me to come as backup, and I would never pass up the opportunity to help my brother,” he glanced down at you and cocked his head to the side, “And my sister.”

“Is that what we are now? Siblings?”

He shrugged. “We always did want a girl in the family.”

You were about to ask who Eris meant by “we” when there came a loud bang.

Azriel held the shattered legs of a chair and Lucien kneeled on the ground, spitting splinters from his mouth.

“You’re doing your brotherly duty wonderfully.” Your words were drier than a desert.

Helion came to Lucien’s aide and used those powerful legs of his to drop kick Azriel in the chest and crack a rib… or two.

“I’m also here for the entertainment.” Eris winked.

When he turned back to the fight, Azriel was already staring at him, and he was livid.

“Ahhhh, that’s my cue.” He tousled your hair, earning a roar from Azriel as Lucien and Helion latched onto his arms and held the Shadowsinger back. “We’ll talk again later.”

He sauntered over to the trio, reared back his fist, and punched Azriel in the stomach.

Nesta waved you over from her spot at the table with Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, and Feyre. It was a safe enough distance away from the brawl, even if the glasses shook every time a body hit the floor.

“Leave the males to their fighting and eat. You must be starved.” Nesta slid over a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast slathered in a healthy amount of butter.

You hated that Nesta was right. The frenzy had left you with little patience for eating most days. You descended upon the food.

Gwyn was still watching the males. There was a strange fascination in her eyes as Helion spit out a mouthful of blood and Azriel punched Eris in the teeth. “I wonder how many wars could have been prevented if the males simply gathered in a room with their right hands and a ruler.”

Emerie snorted. “I reckon at least ten.”

Gwyn shook her head. “So.” She turned her attention to you and leaned in close. “How was it?” She did not speak the words quietly.

You blushed through a mouthful of eggs. “It was… very nice.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Nesta shook her head so many times that flyaway strands of blonde hair escaped her coronet. “How was it?”

Cassian moved in close, resting his head on Nesta’s shoulder. “We want details.”

“Oh, stay out of this, Cass.”

The Lord of Bloodshed huffed when Feyre enclosed the females in a wall of silent air. He settled for laying his head against Nesta’s back, feeling the vibrations of her body as she spoke.

“We do want details. Spare us nothing.”

The females hovered, breaths held in their chests for every salacious detail you were certain to tell. Their excitement made them forgetful of one very important fact — you had always been, and likely always would be, very private.

You looked at Feyre and swallowed. “We um… We broke the windows at the Cottage and need them replaced.”

The females blinked.

“Which ones?” Feyre asked, arching a dark brow.

Azriel smiled at you from across the training ring, a trickle of blood spilling out from the corner of his lips as he wrestled Eris to the ground with his legs locked around the redhead’s neck.

“All of them.”

It was near noon when the fighting started, and the males still hadn’t ceased though the sun had set hours ago.

You walked onto the roof smothered in one of Azriel’s sweaters to escape the air’s chilly bite. This high up the mountains, the wind always whisked away heat like the sea to sand.

Scraps of fabric littered the ground. Bloodstains lay sprinkled across stone floors like salt. It was all to be expected after a mating frenzy, and it did not surprise you that Azriel had kept up with your father and brothers for so long, but, enough was enough. You wanted your mate back.

“Ahem,” You coughed loudly.

Azriel’s eyes flickered to you before you even opened your mouth. He had felt your presence before you’d even walked up the stairs and stepped onto the training mats.

My love. He sighed.

Eris got the last swing in, but he missed the Shadowsinger by a half-margin. Poor Lucien, who’d been holding back Azriel’s arm, got a fistful of gold rings instead.

Lucien’s head snapped back. “What the fuck, Eris?!” He stood grasping at his nose. Blood spilled out from between his fingers.

Eris winced. “Sorry, little brother.”

You made another little noise and the males shoved each other away, bodies sweaty and bloodstained. Eris’s shirt was ripped to shreds, barely hanging onto his narrow shoulders as he wiped the blood from his lips and grinned like a fox. Helion was missing a nose ring and the top tip of his ear. A bruise sprouted along Lucien’s cheeks courtesy of his brother.

But Azriel? The only evidence he carried of the fight was the thin line of dried blood between his lips. It was not unpleasant to look upon.

Less than ten seconds ago they’d been at each other's throats with tooth and nail. But as males were ought to do, once the fight was over they were quick to grumble half-hearted compliments and began picking jewelry and abandoned blades off the floor.

Azriel tipped his head towards you in the smallest of bows. When you held out your hand for him, he didn’t even bother walking to close the distance between you two. He winnowed directly to your side.

About time you finished. I’m ready for bed and I’d like to have my mate beside me.

I like it when you call me that. I like it when you call me yours.

You smiled softly at him, brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. You didn’t think you’d ever tire of smiling at his hazel eyes.

You looked to the rest of your family. “Are you alright?”

“Don’t pretend to worry about us, dear Y/n.” Eris snorted. The smirk on his face was a friendly one, highlighting his handsome, but impish, features as he gathered his cloak from the corner of the room. He swung it around his shoulders, magically repairing his clothes with a flutter of red velvet. “We’re fine. And I would never pass up an opportunity to go toe-to-toe with the Shadowsinger.” He winked at Azriel, who only scowled in return.

That scowl turned into a barred teeth snarl when Eris brushed past you both.

His warm, amber eyes betrayed what you already knew from that brief moment of contact before he went off to his room — he hadn’t been lying when he said they always wanted a girl in the family.

“Goodnight, sister.” Lucien said, kissing your forehead. It took everything in Azriel not to pummel Lucien once more. Your brother’s eyes flickered up to the Shadowsinger. “And congratulations on your mating bond. Truly.”

You mouthed the words, Thank you, before accepting a final goodnight embrace from your father.

“It’s good to have you back.” He smoothed back your hair. Then Helion clicked his tongue and thumped Azriel on the shoulder. “Greedy little Shadowsinger. Keeping my daughter away for two months.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

The pair soon disappeared down the hallway leaving you and Azriel to linger in the night’s silence alone.

The corner of Azriel’s mouth twitched — the only sign he was in any pain when you gently brushed against his ribs.

You smirked. It would seem that your family members had done a number on the Shadowsinger. He’d just been hiding it beneath layers of leather and male pride. What a shame that the females’ bets had been for nothing.

My Y/n, whose side are you on? He asked as you began unbuckling the gauntlets on his arms. Piece by piece, leather armor fell to the ground as steam curled up into the air. It never failed to amaze you how large Illyrian tubs were—and how long they took to fill.

I’m on both your sides.

That is a very noncommittal answer.

It’s a very judicious answer.

Azriel smiled, cheeks brushing against yours as he kissed the curve of your ear. I do agree you are anything if not sensible.

Azriel hummed in satisfaction as the last of his Illyrian leathers dropped to the floor. You knelt beside the tub, pouring in a concoction of oils as Azriel stretched out his wings. It was easy to admire the curve of his neck and the muscles of his back as his wings flexed open and close.

When he was deep beneath the waters, eucalyptus and lavender opening up his lungs, he asked you to clean his wings. It was heaven whenever you touched them. Your soft fingertips seemed to hold all the power in the world — the power to light his blood aflame like whiskey or to soothe him like a sleep draught. Tonight your touch was peaceful as he wrapped his mind around the bond and felt your souls melt and mix like gold.

This is to be our lives now. Azriel reminded himself once again.

You buried yourself beneath the covers and made a little noise of contentment that never failed to make his chest grow warm.

It is. You agreed. Would you like me to remind you?

It was a pattern of words you’d grown used to while at the Cottage. Azriel would marvel at the mating bond—the peace that came with it—and you would take to carefully kissing the expanse of his chest, his neck, his collarbones, until there wasn’t an inch of skin that hadn’t been painted by your gentle lips.

You began that ritual now, winding your way up his chest and ending at his eyelids. Black eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you finished performing the magic that was your love and devotion.

I love you, Azriel. You reminded him. You would remind him of that truth every day of your lives.

I love you too, Y/n. I adore you.

You settled into his side and Azriel draped a wing around your shoulders in a move that was as natural as breathing now. Heads bowed together, shadows curled close by, and scarred hands met scarred skin as he traced the curve of your spine.

The Shadowsinger and the Inkbird.

Together.

As they were always meant to be.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

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Author's Note:

This is the last chapter before the epilogue y'all. I don't think I can say anything right now because it feels weird to be saying goodbye to this story so... I guess I'll save my thoughts and emotions for another time...

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader slowburn #acotar #azriel x reader angst

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vroomvroomcircuit · 8 months

Text

Early Risers vs. Night Owls

(A/N): Special thank yous to @foreveralbon and @disneyprincemuke for helping me choose which drivers are morning people and which are more of night owls.

Summary: Some people are night owls, others are morning people. But there is another sort that some drivers learn to fear: Morning Monsters (it's the reader)

Pairings: (All platonic) daniel ricciardo x driver!reader, charles leclerc x driver!reader, carlos sainz x driver!reader, oscar piastry x driver!reader (max and lando get a guest starring)

Word count: 1.2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

________________________

It’s difficult, being a night person in a day people’s world. It really is. Especially when you are around morning loving human beings.

“Oh, don’t you look happy?” Carlos comments, when (Y/N) steps into the breakfast room. Coincidentally, several teams are accommodated in the same hotel during this race weekend.

As she lets herself fall in a seat at his table, the young female whispers an annoyed “Don’t”. “I wasn’t saying anything mean?” He genuinely questions. Is his English failing him again?

“Please, just stop talking. It’s only the ass crack of dawn, how can someone be so chatty?” (Y/N) puts her head onto the table, effectively stopping any further conversation with the Spaniard. He looks a little bit lost into his fruit bowl, not sure how to handle this situation adequately.

“Top of the morning, my sunshines,” a smiling Daniel Ricciardo strolls into the room. The happiness radiating from him reaches (Y/N) even through her closed eyes.

Just as Daniel arrives at their table, she gets up with the most sluggish motions a sober person can muster. “Coffee” is the only thing mumbled, answering to the confused looks around her.

Shortly after, she sits down again with a cup in her hands, not even bothering to try to follow the chatting between Daniel and Carlos. (Y/N) just stares into space, wondering where she went wrong in her life to have to sit in between two morning people. Surely, this is a punishment of some kind.

“Ok, what is up with you? You look like you are about to murder everyone in this room if someone just dares to breathe in the wrong direction,” Daniel observes. (Y/N) takes another sip from her coffee. “Because it’s true.”

Carlos can’t wrap his head around it. “But what happened to the sunshine-in-person-(Y/N)?” “How am I supposed to be a sunshine, when I’m barely a person at this moment?” Well, that is not a lie. She does look pretty rough. Not everyone can wake up and look perfect like Florence Pugh. Some people have to look more like Merida herself in the mornings.

“Why are you talking to this woman during the early hours?” Charles, who just entered the breakfast hall, fears for their lives. “Because this is what people do? They talk when they sit together?” Daniel is confused. What is so bad about making conversations?

Charles steps closer to their table and (Y/N) immediately latches onto him, burying her face into his stomach.

“Don’t you value your life? A tired (Y/N) in the morning needs quiet and some hugs.” The young woman mumbles something, making the Monegasque laugh. “Yes, and coffee. This is the recipe to get the sunshine person you know and love.”

Confused, the other two drivers blink. Did they miss the manual that came with the rookie?

“And you know all of this, because?” Carlos asks the question that popped up in both their heads. “Because (Y/N) and Arthur were together in F2 and he had been ‘chewed out by her like a pack of gum by a class of elementary schoolers’, his words, not mine. She is not all bark and no bite, isn’t that right?” (Y/N) nods, her head still buried into his front.

“Do you want to catch a ride to the paddock with me? I plan on leaving in five minutes.” (Y/N) nods again and quickly gathers her things before waving the other drivers goodbye.

The ride is filled with silence, Charles even leaves the radio turned off. This lets the female drive in and out of a state of half-asleep until they arrive at their destination. At the same time a certain papaya wearing aussie his own car not far away from Charles’ Ferrari.

“Oh, is it still too early?” He asks her with a small smile. Just like Arthur, Oscar is aware how much of a night owl (Y/N) is, having witnessed her outbursts first hand several times during his own career in F2.

The driver nods as she throws herself into his embrace. A tired (Y/N) turns into the most cuddly person. “Let’s get you a cup of coffee, can’t have you go around screaming at people. You will scare everyone off.”

Oscar is pretty much the only smiling person she tolerates in the morning. Whenever another human being dares just grinning in her direction during her own waking up phase, she is ready to jump their throats. But Oscar is different. He doesn't do it out of mocking or pitiness. He is genuinely happy and wants to show and share it. Also, he radiates a nice calm aura, which is the complete opposite to what she experiences during the days of a race weekend.

When Carlos passes (Y/N) by later, he walks up to her with caution, keeping his teammates' warning in mind, “Hey Carlos, have you heard the rumors about the newest Taylor Swift album? Do you think it will feature a song about Nando?”

The woman in front of him has nothing in common with the one he interacted with just an hour ago. She somehow even looks completely different from her. It’s the kind of freshness that doesn’t come with a shower.

“Uhm, no I did not. Are you ok? You seemed… a bit out of it this morning.” There is a hesitation in his voice, not wanting to accidentally offset her.

But (Y/N) just laughs it off. “Oh yeah, that. I’m sorry for being a grump back there. Just like Charlie said, I’m absolutely not a morning person. During the first hour of being awake I’m an absolute monster. Just, don’t talk to me or only when it’s absolutely necessary during that time. I apologize for my behavior, it wasn’t nice. Today was particularly bad, because I do my best work at night and I have been pouring over some data until 2 am. I’ll try to give you a warning next time!”

With that she is off, looking for her partner in crime aka her teammate to start some kind of mischief with the social media team.

Carlos is just flabbergasted. The duality of some people and how a small cup of caffeine can bring that out of them is astonishing.

Just remember to never fuck with night owls during the early hours of the morning.

Bonus Scene

During a free week some drivers set a date to play a private paddle tournament together in Monaco. Daniel enters the court with a big smile. After all, it is a fresh, sunny morning. This day is a promise of having a good time with his friends and colleagues, playing their favorite game and having lunch plans together.

What sets the Australian off are the three frowning faces, sitting on a bench nursing each a can of Red Bull solemnly. “What happened to you?”

Max answers his question first with a grumpy voice. “I had to leave my cats cuddled up in my bed alone.” “My alarm woke me up while the first number on the clock was still a single digit.” Landoo sounds about as tired as (Y/N) next to him looks like.

“Life”, Daniel answers for the young woman already, who just nods and pulls the strings of her hood closed, hindering someone else to make more conversations with her until the caffeine has kicked in.

Desperate times call for desperate measures after all.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x driver!reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x driver!reader #oscar piastry x reader #oscar piastry x driver!reader #x reader #x driver!reader #f1 x reader #f1 x driver!reader #x fem!reader #f1 fanfic #reader insert #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x driver!reader

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wandasaura · 10 months

Text

— A PROMISE

summary — when you wake up alone, the only place you want to land is in the arms of your lovers

warning(s) — alludes to ageplay elements, soft girlfriends wandanat, russian accent natty bc i’m soft for her, just pure domestic fluff, little dove universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Some of the best things that had happened to you, had happened by mistake. You were never supposed to be in Manhattan the night an alien ship crash landed on Earth and wreaked havoc on that small strip for almost two hours, but you’d taken the wrong subway and wandered around aimlessly until you found a cafe you recognized. Unfortunately for you, that mistake put you right in the center of alien warfare. Fortunately for you, it also put you right into the arms of a redheaded Avengers with a haunted past.

Things hadn’t been the same after that. It was almost like whatever you did, wherever you went, fate decided to step in and put you right in her path. If you were at a local market, so was she. If you were stranded on a subway platform after missing your train, so was she. You knew she had a girlfriend, everyone knew of Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff's epic love story, but somehow you weren’t surprised when she asked you out for coffee after three weeks of spontaneous meetings. In such a big city, it was almost cliche to deny the possibility of something more being just at your fingertips when you kept meeting.

That coffee date turned out to be the best mistake of your life. And, six months later, you found yourself in the center of an epic love story that you somehow had the honor of calling your own. It wasn’t traditional by any means, and it wasn’t always perfect, but it was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you reminded yourself of that every single day. Though it wasn’t like you could forget it even if you tried.

Waking up alone was an unusual way to start your day ever since moving in with Wanda and Natasha. Your girlfriends were early risers, they often jostled you awake as they tried to slip out of bed, but on the days when they didn’t, you always woke up to at least one of them cuddling close to your warm body, trying to catch a few more hours of peace after a workout. Today was different, and something inside of you felt different as well. Without them next to you, it felt like something was missing from your heart, and you wanted to burst into tears just because Wanda’s side of the bed was cold to the touch and her blanket was rustled and messy.

Sniffling, you throw your legs over the side of the bed, shivering when the cold floor shot sparks up through your bones. Your pajamas were only thin, the intense heatwave that had settled overtop of New York City keeping you from your traditional fuzzy pants and stolen hoodie, but it seemed to be cooler today, the air in the room not so thick with heat like it had been. That small victory still didn’t quell your sadness however, as you sought after your girlfriends, desperate to feel the warmth of their love in any capacity they’d allow.

Their accented voices carry from somewhere down the hallway, and the closer you came to finding them, the easier it became to recognize the sweet aroma of your favorite homemade breakfast being cooked in the kitchen. The thought of Wanda’s famous waffles brought a smile to your tired lips, easing away some of your distress.

No matter how quiet your footsteps were as you padded down the hall and around the corners that jumped out at you no thanks to your sleepy eyes, you never quite managed to sneak up on either of your doting girlfriends. When one was a former assassin and the other was a witch with telepathic abilities, surprises were almost impossible to pull off without help from the other, so it was no surprise that before you could even step foot into the kitchen fully, Natasha was spinning around to greet you with a soft smile and warm eyes.

That impossibly heavy feeling in your belly amplified tenfold seeing her soft body just out of reach and pressed up against the counter casually, like she was unaware of the domestic dominance she radiated by just being in the room. The sadness in your eyes wasn’t lost on her as she drank in the sight of you so sleepy and innocent in only Wanda’s stolen sleepware, and that charming smile on her lips slowly sank into a pout. “What’s wrong, baby?” The slightest lisp of Russian coated her words as they filled the kitchen, warm and heavy on your skin as they sank into your bones and made your muscles weak. Her accent only ever came out in moments like this, when it was just you and Wanda around to hear — where she knew it was safe to let her guard down — and selfishly you adored it. You adored knowing that she showed you every part of herself.

The fog in your mind was laeden, and subsequently made your words feel impossible to find despite your efforts, the only thought that was clear to you in that moment was getting to her, and finally being in her arms. Ignoring her question, you let your feet lead the way to her awaiting body, sinking into her chest once you were close enough to reach it. Her muscular arms wrapped around your midsection tightly, one calloused palm cradling the back of your head as you dug your face into the darkest spot of her neck.

Natasha looked down at you fleetingly, soaking up the delicacy of your touch, before glancing over at Wanda for any enlightenment she could offer. The younger redhead had noticed your odd disposition the moment you stepped into the room, your typically boisterous and infectious energy worryingly depleted and rubbing at her magic in a way she couldn’t ignore. She hated prying into your emotions, hated how gross it made her feel inside knowing she didn’t have permission to be snooping around in your thoughts, but some things couldn’t be helped when your energy was so violently projecting feelings of distress, and it didn’t seem like you’d be giving her or Natasha any verbal indication of a problem anytime soon.

The deepest shade of scarlet overtook her eyes as she let herself be immersed into your inner monologue, head tilting as she searched through your scrambled brain. She couldn’t help herself from cooing when she found the root of the problem, immediately drawing herself out once she felt content to go from what she now knew. That high pitch sound caught your attention, and desperately you peeked out from Natasha’s neck, looking at her with the most spaced out doe eyes she’d ever seen.

Dropping the dish towel she’d been using to wipe her hands with, Wanda joined you at Natasha’s front, laying a heavy hand on the center of your back, letting you feel her warmth through the thin shirt you had on, while her other brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. “You just missed us, huh, dove? Woke up all alone.” She cooed softly, leaning in just close enough to lay a featherlight kiss on your hairline, pulling away all too soon for your liking, your high pitched whine an automatic response that she immediately shushed. You’d never felt like this before, never felt so dependent on their attention and affection, but you didn’t hate the warmth that spread through your entire body from just seeing them smile at you. It felt so simple but so deeply healing.

Wanda didn’t have much insight to where your head was at, but she wasn’t completely oblivious either, unlike Natasha who looked entirely unsure of how to proceed with you so pliable in her arms. The scarlet headed woman laughed softly at your girlfriends expense, unbothered by your sudden dependability, drawing patterns on your back with light touches of her fingertips to quell your rising dismay for her not giving you another kiss. “You’re so sweet, golub’. Looking at me with those pretty big eyes. Why don’t you and Talia find a good place to enjoy our breakfast while I finish up. I’m making your favorite.”

Wanda met Natasha’s gaze, eyes flashing scarlet as she opened the line for mental communication. They hardly ever spoke this way in front of you, the entire structure of your relationship built on trust and open communication, but Wanda knew this was sensitive for both of you, and she in your current state, she didn’t want to run the risk of upsetting or embarrassing you. She wasn’t even sure you were entirely aware of what was going on. When you realized they were talking without you, a dissatisfied whine came from high in your throat, needy hands pulling at the neckline of Natasha’s shirt to capture her attention for yourself.

Wanda didn’t hesitate to put an end to your pleading, an amused laugh coming from her chest as she kept her eyes on Natasha’s, only offering you a gentle pat on the back. Natasha closed her palm around your fist, keeping her skin heavy on yours as she absorbed all that Wanda was telling her. “Oh, I know you want all the attention on you. Poor baby.” Wanda laughed once she closed the communication line, casting her eyes downward until she met the sweet pout on your cherry red lips.

Kissing your frown away tenderly, she quickly sent you and Natasha on your way out of the kitchen, not wanting you anywhere near open flames and hot burners when your mind was so hazy. Something had changed within your dynamic that day, you just hadn’t realized it yet, but your girls would get you through it. That was a promise.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wandanat fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #mommy!wanda maximoff x reader #daddy!natasha romanoff x reader #series: little dove

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castiwls · 7 months

Text

8am - s.w

Pairing; Sam x reader

Synopsis; Sam had always been an early riser, something you were not

Warning; None

Notes; Decided to give Sammy some love

Masterlist

The sound of your bedroom door closing roused you from a dreamless sleep. Letting out a quiet groan you slowly opened your eyes. “Sam?” You blinked slowly watching as the figure of your boyfriend moved around your room. “Wha time is it.” You asked, still feeling slightly groggy.

“Eight.” He turned to look at you, a small smile on his lips. Your head was barely visible over the covers as you slowly blinked at him. ‘In the morning?” You groaned turning over when he nodded. “Why do you do this to yourself.”

Sam laughed quietly coming to sit beside you. “Because. I don’t have to deal with Dean if I get up before 3 pm.” He joked placing a pile of clothes beside him. Letting out a small laugh you turned to face him, looking slightly more awake.

The bed felt slightly colder now as you rolled over. “You have time for more sleep. It’s good for you.” You sat up slightly rubbing at your eyes. “I know you didn’t sleep, I felt you moving.” Your tone was slightly more serious as your body began to wake up.

You’d noticed over the last few weeks that Sam hadn’t seemed to be sleeping properly, you’d awoken many times to find him typing away on his laptop or reading something in the dead of night. You’d also noticed the bags under his eyes slowly growing darker and darker.

The man frowned reaching over to run a hand through your hair. “I’m fine,” he said watching as you frowned at him. You shook your head before patting the bed. “We have nowhere to be.” You lifted the cover. “You can get a few more hours.”

He watched you for a moment, seemingly stuck between the idea of sleep or getting a head start on research. It seemed his need for sleep won as after a moment he climbed into the spot beside you, quickly wrapping an arm around you.

You smiled triumphantly leaning into his chest. It wasn’t often you managed to convince him to come back to bed, meaning that morning cuddles were few and far between when it came to Sam.

“Happy?” He looked down at you fondly as you slowly traced shapes over his abdomen. You nodded looking up at him.”Mhm.”

You leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips before pulling back. “Sleep.” You said firmly before going back to your original spot. You felt his chest move as he huffed a small laugh but relaxed under you.

You continued to trace small shapes across his chest until you felt his breathing slowly even out. Once you were content sleep had taken him you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to fall back to sleep, content that your boyfriend was finally getting the rest he needed.

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d3n1r · 1 month

Text

the taste of you

kento nanami x fempov reader - MDNI 🔞

(content warning: 18+ NSFW, female pronouns and genitalia, sweat kink? is that a thing? LIGHT SOMNO / waking up to sexual advancements.)

(this is slow just like the time it took me to write it)

Kento had felt so terrible for not installing the AC in your shared bedroom sooner. Work had been so terribly busy for both of you, and by the time the evening came, there was nothing him or you wanted more than to sleep.

Granted, the windows were open and the fan was on, but it hardly mattered at the times you actually woke up. At night, the room was blistering from the heat of the day, and by morning, the sun had started cooking the room already.

But you weren't one to complain, no. Never complaining about any of Kento's promises- because even if it took him a while, he would keep them. Your perfect husband. The fact that he knew you weren't mad made him feel even worse.

Kento awoke before you each day- he was an early riser, while you were a night owl. It was lucky enough that your jobs made room for that in your schedules as well, letting him go to work bright and early and you able to rest for as long as you want before clocking in.

He sat up in the bed, not needing to peel away from you much to begin with because of the heat. It was already something over 70 degrees in there, and in your sleep, you had sprawled out, wearing a tank top that had drifted up along with a pair of panties. Even one of your socks had gone missing in the night- he thought it was adorable. You were adorable.

You had given him permission to wake you up to his dick in you a long time ago. The idea of him needing you so badly he couldn't wait for you to wake up was arousing. And while he had been hesitant at first, he came to understand the appeal when you'd squirm on his tongue sleepily and moan his name half-conscious.

Kento hummed in admiration seeing your nude body splayed before him, soft and practically glistening in the morning light. Subconsciously his hand went to cup your cheek, a warm smile on his lips that matched the heat of the room. His other hand trailed along your abdomen, relishing in the feeling of your plush skin beneath his fingertips.

Then his honey brown eyes widened. Slowly, a small bead of sweat rolled from the peak of your breast to the valley between them, threatening to continue a path down your abdomen to your stomach. It was encapsulating, and he felt himself frozen amidst the heat of the sun, which made you seem to glow to him. You were already so perfect, now covered in a light sheen of sweat.

Your body was so pretty and cute. He couldn't restrain himself from settling his hands gently on your sides, gripping them lightly as he leaned down closer, practically hovering over you. You had a scent that was so utterly you, intoxicating. Here you were in your sleep, your body trying to cool you off in your otherwise peaceful slumber to no avail.

But not to worry. Kento would help his ethereal wife since he had so unfairly forgotten about the AC. His eyes traced along the shimmering peaks of your chest, and before he could think any longer his tongue darted from his mouth, licking gently at the sensitive, but flat bud of your breast as you slept.

He almost moaned- you tasted a bit salty, but still utterly you. He could even taste the sun on your skin as it beamed upon your perfect body under him.

"Fuck, my love," Kento whispered, before wrapping his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking away the heated flavor of your skin, his hand going to circle your other nipple, the soft dampness of your skin allowing the pads of his fingers to trace your skin with ease.

He slowly released your breast from his mouth, admiring how the peak of it hardened in the warm air in contrast to his hot tongue that had just been pressing against it. Kento smiled in satisfaction, leaning to do the same to your other nipple, before his gaze turned.

That damn bead of sweat that had made him so feral in the first place.

It slowly started to roll down your abdomen as you breathed, and before Kento knew what he was doing, his tongue had caught it, licking a stripe up your skin to copy the roll of perspiration's original path.

Fuck, he was so hooked on you. Your sounds, your taste, the feeling of your soft skin- he could hardly think, drunk off of merely worshipping your body. Before he knew it, he was kissing along your body, his hands gently kneading the softness of your waist.

It was only his low moan that he couldn't contain as he pulled down your panties, seeing the sight of your wet core (he knew it was from the heat, it'd be unrealistic to imagine he'd made you wet in your sleep, right?) that made you start to stir, your hand moving to find his head at your pelvis. Your sleepy fingers threaded through his hair, your half asleep mind registering the feeling of Kento in your hand and happy he was there, and that was all.

Kento hummed, knowing he was playing with fire. He could wake you up, and you'd be groggy, but he'd be sure to reward you. You'd have no time to think about how hot it was without the AC if you woke up to his tongue soothing your clit.

With two long digits he spread your folds, his tongue flicking along the area around your swollen, warm nub. He was trying to get a rise from you, to stir you further, and it worked, your fingers curling in his hair like an involuntary flex.

"Ken, wh-" Your shaky, drowsy voice was cut off by a whine leaving your lips, his own lips having wrapped around the sensitive bud between your legs.

"Good morning, my love," He mumbled against your warmth, his tongue snaking between your folds, which made you shudder. "Did you sleep well?"

If it was any other morning, you'd have mumbled some groggy nonsense about the lack of AC having woken you up, but the heat clinging to your body right now felt much more pleasant. Just as Kento intended.

"Mm, yeah, f-fine," You retorted breathily, your back arching a bit for him as Kento eased a finger into your slit, the digit curling and flexing to ease you into the feeling.

He smiled- it was always his smile, the way his lips curled up and his eyes crinkled that made your heart skip a beat and flutter- along with another part of you fluttering around his now two fingers unraveling you.

"That's good, darling." Kento murmured happily, pressing a kiss to your clit as though it was the most normal mundane thing to do in that moment. You sighed, feeling your body heat up further, but not from the temperature of the room. At least, not entirely from that- not when he was making you feel so spoiled and pampered, his beautiful girl.

Your husband always made sure you woke up feeling your best. Even if he had forgotten to install the air conditioning again- was it on purpose?

... part two??

HELP I DREAMT ABOUT THIS INSPIRED BY THE FACT THAT ITS SO HOT OUT AND I DIDNT HAVE MY AC YET-

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riordanness · 1 year

Text

pick up lines - [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 1.4K

warnings: none

I hated waking up.

Not that sleeping was particularly amazing, being a demigod and all, but waking up really sucked. I'd been resting peacefully (not), when I was rudely shaken from my sleep by the breakfast bell.

Unfortunately, I had never been an early riser, so most mornings, there was a mad rush, involving a lot of mess, losing everything I needed, and desperately trying, (and failing) to clean up my cabin before inspection, which was right after breakfast.

I was generally the one who had the messiest cabin during inspection.

I finally was dressed in jeans and an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, with my h/c hair pulled away from my face. Then, I ran to the dining pavilion.

I was a daughter of Demeter, the plant goddess. Yeah, I'm sure most of you are thinking: Oh, wow, plants... But seriously, it's kinda cool. I do have some pretty sweet powers. I can grow any plants from practically nothing, control plants and stuff, and sense things in the earth. I can even use plants to travel instantly from one place to another, by just hopping through the trees, or seeds, or flowers, or weeds, or . . . whatever.

I slipped into my seat next to Katie Gardner, my elder sister. She was the counsellor for Cabin Demeter. Katie was super nice, but she was always busy at the moment, mostly hanging out with her new boyfriend, Travis Stoll, Son of Hermes.

"You slept in again," Katie whispered to me, trying, and failing epically, to hide her laughter. "We thought it was best not to try and wake you."

That was probably smart. If someone woke me up, they'd most likely leave that situation with a black eye and seeds growing in their skin. I can be fairly lethal when I want to be.

"I stated up too late again last night," I said back, my voice also low. I didn't like when other kids were listening in on my conversations, especially those Hermes kids.

"Doing what?" Katie smirked, like she knew something I didn't.

"Um..." What was I doing? Hanging out with my best friend of course. Who also happened to be the cutest and most popular guy at camp. The only current Son of Posiedon. Percy Jackson.

"I was with Percy, at the beach. We were finding lost starfish and chucking them back in the water..." My voice faltered. I wasn't good at lying. 'At the beach' was accurate. We'd been laying on a picnic blanket, watching the stars, and just talking about everything and anything, for hours. We did that almost every night. It was the best feeling in the world, just being with him.

"Uh huh." Katie turned back to her food. "He likes you, y/n, I'm sure of it. Just as much as you like him, I bet."

"Katie!" I hissed, my face beet red, but the words pleased me. I'd had a crush on Percy Jackson since the first day he arrived at Camp Half-Blood, tired and bruised and scratched from fighting the Minotaur. He'd limped into camp, stole my heart, and became the coolest guy at camp within a month.

And yes, I was in love with him. We'd been best friends for years, and we hung out all the time. How could I possibly not fall for him, with his stupid trouble-maker grin, his dark, messy hair, his sparkling sea-green baby-seal eyes, and his voice. He was, at least in my eyes, perfect.

***

Later, I was practicing my sword-fighting in the arena, hacking arms and legs and heads off the stuffed straw dummies. I'd never been the best fighter, but I felt like I was getting the hang of my sword.

"Are you a child of Hermes?" a joking voice rang out from behind me. I spun around, and came face to face with one of the Hephestus kids. Leo Valdez, maybe?

I blew my hair out of my face, breathing hard. "Um, no? Demeter, actually. Why?"

The boy, Leo, cracked a grin. "Because you stole my heart."

I blinked, not sure what to say. I never really spoke to any of the kids from Hephestus cabin, especially not this one.

"Uh, okay... thanks, I guess?"

Leo grinned again, then ran off without saying anything else. Okay... that was pretty weird.

I decided to go for a walk, to cool down and to stretch my legs a bit, so I headed for the basketball courts, where a bunch of kids were playing a really aggressive game.

I plopped down on the grass a few meters back from the courts, and watched the game. It looked like Ares and Apollo (a strange match), against Athena, Dionysus, and a couple other kids, like Jason Grace, Nico Di Angelo, and Percy.

I found myself watching Percy more than the other players, but snapped my eyes away from him once I realised. I didn't want anyone seeing me staring at my best friend.

After a while, the players called for a break, and Jason Grace approached me. "Oh, hey (Y/N)," he smiled at me, sitting beside me and taking a swig of water from a drink bottle.

"Hey," I said back. Again, I was surprised at why Jason was talking to me. He didn't usually. Demeter kids were looked over quite a bit, and Jason was one of the big shots - a child of Zeus. Of course, Percy was a son of Posiedon, and he talked to me, but that was different. I'd known Percy for years, even before we came here at twelve years old. I'd know him since he was seven.

"Are you a child of Hades?" Jason asked suddenly.

I frowned at him. "No. Demeter, actually. Why does everyone keep-?"

I was cut off by Jason grinning and saying: "Because I'm dying to call you mine."

I swallowed. "Um..."

Jason got up and walked away, heading back to his game. I was totally confused, so I stood up, brushed off my jean shorts, and decided to go to the strawberry fields, where I usually spent most of my time, among the plants. Plants always calmed me down, and this random guys telling me pick-up lines were a little stressful. I wasn't the kind of girl who normally got guys, anyway.

After a few minutes of walking up and down the strawberry aisles, I ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico wasn't usually the sort of person you ran into in the strawberry fields, so I was surprised.

"Oh, hi, Nico," I said cheerily, waving at him. Nico and I were actually pretty good friends, so I was glad to see him. We got along surprisingly well, considering our parents' rivalry. You know, the whole Persephone getting kidnapped thing.

"Are you a child of Hephestus?" Nico stammered, blushing with embarrassment.

At this point, I was utterly confused.

"No!" I said, frowning. "I'm a daughter of Demeter, and I know you know that, Nico. And why does everyone keep trying these stupid pick-up lines on me? Besides... you like guys, don't you?"

"Well, um..." Nico shrugged and ran off, leaving me in a state of helpless confusion.

I sank to my knees in the soft grass, picking at it with my fingers. "What's happening with me today?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, are you Aphrodite?" a familiar voice asked. "Because you're divinely gorgeous."

I glanced up, meeting the sea-green eyes of my best friend. "Percy?" I asked. "You too? What's-?"

Percy stopped me, sitting down cross-legged beside me. "Hey, I've- I've liked you for ages, but I never told you because I was scared you'd not feel the same and so we'd lose our awesome friendship, but the guys found out and so they were trying to make me jealous enough to admit me feelings today, by trying out pick-up lines on you, so, well, I- I decided that I should just tell you.”

I sucked in a breath. "Oh my gods," I managed. "You stupid son of Posiedon."

"What?" Percy chuckled nervously.

"Are you a child of the Sea God?" I asked softly. "Because I'm drowning in your beautiful eyes."

Gathering all my courage, I leaned forward and pressed my mouth against Percy's, feeling him smile against my lips, and I couldn't have wished for anything more.

#fanfiction #percy jackson #fanfic #pjo #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #nico di angelo x reader #jason grace x reader #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #rick riordan

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paigesrealwife · 28 days

Text

"On the Same Team"

part 1

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: reader is a uconn student-athlete that bumps into paige bueckers during an early workout they hit it off hanging out and get to know each other, as they spend more time together their friendship turns into something more...

warnings: none yet... (next chapter will have smut)

wc: 1,690

You’re on your way to the gym for an early morning workout, the campus still shrouded in a light fog, and the air crisp with the promise of a new day. As a member of UConn’s track team, you’ve always been an early riser, loving the quiet solitude of the campus at dawn. Today, however, feels different. There’s a buzz in the air, a feeling you can’t quite shake.

As you push open the door to the gym, the familiar smell of polished wood and sweat greets you. You’re about to head to the locker room when you hear the unmistakable sound of a basketball bouncing rhythmically on the court. Curious, you walk towards the noise, peeking around the corner to see none other than Paige Bueckers, the star of the women’s basketball team, practicing her shots.

She’s in the zone, focused on her dribbling, making each shot with effortless precision. You’ve seen her play in games, of course—everyone has—but seeing her up close, so determined and in her element, is mesmerizing. You don’t realize you’ve been staring until she catches sight of you from the corner of her eye.

“Hey,” she calls out, a friendly smile breaking her concentration. “Enjoying the show?”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed to be caught. “Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude. I just came in for my workout.”

“No worries,” Paige says, walking over to you, her ball tucked under one arm. “You’re on the track team, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. And you’re... well, everyone knows who you are,” you reply with a grin.

She chuckles. “Well, since we’re both here early, want to shoot around for a bit? It could be fun, a little cross-training for you.”

You hesitate for a moment, then nod. “Why not? I’m game.”

You step onto the court, and she tosses you the ball. It’s heavier than you expected, a reminder of how different your sports are. Still, you give it your best shot, sending the ball towards the hoop. It bounces off the rim, but Paige catches it effortlessly.

“Not bad,” she teases. “But let me show you how it’s done.”

For the next half hour, you and Paige play a friendly game of one-on-one. She’s quick, agile, and clearly in a league of her own, but she encourages you, giving you pointers and cheering whenever you make a decent shot. It’s fun—more fun than you’ve had in a while—and you find yourself laughing and enjoying the banter.

As you both catch your breath, sitting on the court with your backs against the cool wood, Paige turns to you. “You’re pretty good, you know. For a track star.”

You smile. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. For a basketball legend.”

She laughs, her eyes sparkling in the morning light. “So, what’s your story? How did you end up at UConn?”

You start to share a bit about yourself—your passion for running, how you’ve always loved the feeling of freedom it gives you, and how UConn was your dream school. Paige listens intently, nodding along, occasionally adding her own experiences.

There’s a moment of comfortable silence, and then she says, “You know, it’s nice to meet someone who’s just... real. Sometimes, it feels like people only see me as the basketball player, not as just Paige.”

You nod, understanding. “I get that. It’s easy for people to see only the athlete and not the person behind it.”

She looks at you, a soft smile on her lips. “I’m glad I ran into you today.”

“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

You both sit there for a little longer, enjoying the peace of the morning and each other's company. It’s a simple moment, but one that feels like the start of something more—a friendship, a connection, or maybe even a spark of something deeper.

**A Few Hours Later**

That evening, you find yourself outside a bustling apartment, the sound of laughter and music spilling out into the hallway. Paige greets you at the door, her face lighting up when she sees you. “Hey! You made it!”

You smile, feeling a bit nervous but also excited. “Yeah, wouldn’t miss it.”

She takes your hand, guiding you through the crowd. The apartment is filled with members of the basketball team and a few other athletes, all mingling and enjoying themselves. Paige introduces you to her teammates, and soon enough, you’re caught up in the lively conversation, the initial nerves melting away.

As the night progresses, you find yourself talking more and more with Paige. She’s funny, sharp, and has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. At one point, she pulls you aside to the quieter corner of the kitchen.

“Having fun?” she asks, her eyes sparkling.

“Yeah,” you admit. “This is great. Thanks for inviting me.”

She leans in a little closer, her voice dropping to a soft murmur. “I’m really glad you came.”

Your heart beats faster. There’s that pull again, that inexplicable draw that seems to bring you closer to her with every passing second. You take a breath, summoning the courage to speak.

“Paige, I—”

Before you can finish, someone calls her name from the other room, breaking the moment. She glances back, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face.

“Sorry,” she says quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

You nod, watching as she moves back into the crowd. You’re left standing there, feeling a mix of frustration and hope, wondering what might have happened if you’d had just a few more seconds alone.

As the night wears on, the crowd begins to thin out. Paige returns to your side, her expression apologetic. “Sorry about that. Team stuff, you know.”

You smile, trying to hide the slight disappointment. “No worries. It’s your party.”

She hesitates, then takes a step closer. “Walk me back to my dorm?”

You nod, and together, you slip out of the apartment into the cool night air. The walk back is quiet, the tension between you almost palpable. When you reach her dorm, she turns to face you, her eyes searching yours.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” she says softly. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you both just stand there, the world around you fading away. Then, before you can overthink it, you take a step forward, closing the gap between you.

“Paige, I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” you start, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “I really like spending time with you. More than just as friends.”

She looks at you, her expression softening, and for a second, you fear you’ve made a mistake. But then, she steps closer, her hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek.

“I’ve been feeling the same way,” she admits, her voice barely a whisper.

And just like that, the world seems to shift. Her lips brush against yours, tentative and soft, and you feel a spark ignite inside you. The kiss deepens, slow and sweet, the kind that makes you forget everything else.

When you finally pull back, you’re both smiling, breathless but happy.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” she confesses, her forehead resting against yours.

You chuckle. “Me too.”

She takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “So… what now?”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. “How about we just see where this goes?”

She grins, her eyes shining with excitement. “I’d like that.”

And as you stand there, under the stars with Paige Bueckers by your side, you know this is just the beginning of something wonderful.

author notes: im going to try and make this a multi part fic so bare with me 😭

#paige bueckers #paige x reader #uconn wbb #fanfic #wlw #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x reader

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simpforfandom231 · 6 months

Text

Rapp's Curse PT1

Pairing: Reneé Rapp x fem!reader

warning: none just reneé being protective and cute over her girlf summary: Y/N is a student and together with Reneé Rapp. When Y/N runs into her ex Kate at campus, Kate gets really rude to Y/N and Reneé well, she just wants to speak her mind to the bitchy girl ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun had barely begun to rise as Reneé pulled up to the university entrance in her sleek Black edition Range Rover. The campus was quiet, save for a few early risers and the chirping of birds. Y/n, her girlfriend, sat beside her, her eyes still heavy with sleep but a smile gracing her lips.

"Thanks for the ride, babe," Y/n said, her voice soft and warm as she leaned over to give Reneé a quick kiss.

Reneé grinned back, the corners of her eyes crinkling with affection. "Anytime, cutie. Have a great day at school."

Y/n gathered her backpack and glanced at the time on her phone. "I'll see you later. My first class doesn't start until 9, but I have a long day ahead. I won't be done until 6."

Reneé nodded, understanding. "Got it. I'll be finishing up in the studio around 6:05, so I might need a few minutes to wrap things up. Will you be okay waiting for me?"

Y/n chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course. I'll just hang out at the entrance until you arrive. It'll give me time to catch up on some reading."

As Y/n stepped out of the car, her best friend Kimberly came into view, already waiting at the drop-off spot on campus. Kimberly waved excitedly, her curly hair bouncing with each movement.

"Hey, Y/n!" Kimberly called out, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "Ready for another thrilling day of academia?"

Y/n grinned, returning the wave. "Absolutely. Although, I could do without the early mornings."

Kimberly laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me about it. But hey, at least we get to spend the day together, right?"

Y/n nodded, linking her arm with Kimberly's as they made their way towards the entrance. "Definitely. And who knows, maybe today will be the day we finally uncover the secrets of ancient civilizations."

Kimberly gasped dramatically, her hand flying to her chest. "I can feel it in my bones! Today is the day we become legends in the world of academia."

As Y/n and Kimberly strolled through the campus, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, drawing them towards the cozy campus coffee shop. The morning sun cast a warm glow over the bustling courtyard, students bustling about with books in hand and laughter in the air.

"So, when are you going to tell Ayla about you and Reneé?" Kimberly asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she sipped on her steaming cup of latte.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly as she mulled over the question. "I don't know, Kim. I mean, I've been dating Reneé for six months now, but I'm just... scared, you know? What if Ayla doesn't like Reneé?"

Kimberly reached out and squeezed Y/n's hand reassuringly. "I get it, Y/n but she's your best friend, she loves you. And I'm sure she'll come around to the idea eventually."

Y/n smiled gratefully at Kimberly, feeling a wave of comfort wash over her. "Thanks, Kim. I needed to hear that."

Together, they stepped up to the counter to place their order. Y/n ordered her usual black coffee, while Kimberly opted for a caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream.

As they waited for their drinks, Kimberly leaned in conspiratorially. "You know, I think Ayla might have already guessed something's up. She's been asking a lot of questions lately, like why you're always busy on weekends and why you're suddenly so secretive about your plans."

Y/n's eyes widened in surprise. "She has? Oh no, what if she already knows and she's just waiting for me to tell her?"

Kimberly shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Well, there's only one way to find out. You just have to rip off the bandaid and tell her the truth."

Y/n nodded, determination shining in her eyes. "You're right, Kim. I'll tell her soon. And who knows, maybe she'll surprise us both and be totally cool with it."

Their drinks arrived, and they took a moment to savor the warmth of the coffee and the comfort of each other's company. As they made their way to their first class of the day, Y/n couldn't shake the nervous flutter in her stomach at the thought of finally coming out to Ayla.

Y/n and Kimberly made their way to their first class of the day, the anticipation of Y/n's impending conversation with Ayla hung in the air like a thick fog. But before Y/n could even gather the courage to speak, a familiar voice called out from behind them.

"Hey, wait up!" Ayla exclaimed, jogging towards them with a bright smile on her face. Her long brown hair bounced with each step, and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Kimberly shot Y/n a quick glance, a knowing look in her eyes. "This is it, Y/n. Your chance to tell her."

Y/n took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "Hey, Ayla, there's actually something I've been meaning to tell you."

Ayla tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression. "What is it, Y/n?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment before blurting out, "I'm dating Reneé Rapp."

Ayla's eyes widened in surprise, but before Y/n could even begin to worry about her reaction, Ayla's face broke out into a wide grin. "No way! That's amazing, Y/n! I'm so happy for you!"

Y/n's shoulders sagged with relief as she pulled Ayla into a tight hug. "Really? You're not mad or anything?"

Ayla shook her head, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "Of course not, silly. I actually kind of figured it out months ago. You've been so busy on the weekends and so secretive about your plans. I just wanted you to tell me on your own terms."

Y/n felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she pulled away from the hug, a grateful smile spreading across her face. "Thank you, Ayla. I'm so lucky to have you as my best friend."

The three of them walked into class together, their laughter echoing through the hallway as they settled into their seats. Ayla turned to Y/n, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, what's it like to be with Reneé?"

Y/n couldn't help but blush as she thought about her girlfriend. "She's amazing, Ayla. She's sweet and loving and cute and... very hot."

Kimberly giggled from beside them, unable to resist making a joke. "Wow, Y/n, you look like you're practically floating on cloud nine."

Y/n laughed, playfully swatting at Kimberly's arm. "Oh, hush, Kim. You're just jealous because you haven't found your own Reneé yet."

Their banter was interrupted by the sound of the professor clearing his throat from the front of the classroom. "I hate to interrupt, ladies, but if my class isn't interesting enough for you to pay attention, perhaps you'd like to take your conversation elsewhere."

The girls exchanged sheepish looks before turning their attention back to the front of the room, stifling their laughter as they settled in for the lecture.

After their first and second classes, Y/n, Ayla, and Kimberly found themselves walking to the noodle restaurant on campus for lunch. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the bustling courtyard as the trio made their way through the throngs of students.

As they approached the restaurant, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. "Ugh, I really hope she's not here," Y/n muttered under her breath, her brows furrowing with irritation.

Ayla glanced at her curiously. "Who are you talking about, Y/n?"

Y/n nodded towards a figure across the courtyard, her jaw tensing with frustration. "Her. Kate."

Kimberly and Ayla exchanged worried glances before turning their attention back to Y/n. They knew all too well the history between Y/n and Kate – a messy breakup that had left Y/n heartbroken and bitter.

Kimberly placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Just ignore her, Y/n. She's not worth your time or energy."

Taking a deep breath, Y/n nodded, trying to push aside the memories of their tumultuous relationship as they entered the restaurant. The scent of savory noodles filled the air, momentarily distracting Y/n from her thoughts as they approached the counter to place their orders.

As they settled into their seats, Y/n's heart sank as she caught sight of Kate making her way towards their table. "Great, just what I needed," Y/n muttered under her breath, her fists clenching with frustration.

Kate sauntered over with a smug grin on her face, her eyes locking onto Y/n with an intensity that made Y/n's skin crawl. "Well, well, well. Look who it is," Kate said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Y/n forced a tight smile, trying to maintain her composure. "Hi, Kate. What brings you here?"

Kate's grin widened, a cruel glint in her eyes. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd come say hi to my favorite ex-girlfriend."

Ayla and Kimberly exchanged incredulous looks, their jaws tightening with anger at Kate's audacity. Ayla spoke up, her voice sharp with annoyance. "Actually, Kate, we're in the middle of lunch. So if you don't mind..."

Kate's smile faltered for a moment before she regained her composure, a sneer crossing her features. "Fine, I'll leave you losers to your little lunch date. But just remember, Y/n, you'll never find anyone as good as me."

With that parting shot, Kate turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving Y/n seething with anger and frustration. Ayla and Kimberly exchanged sympathetic glances, offering Y/n words of comfort.

Y/n stabbed at her noodles with more force than necessary, her appetite all but gone as she stewed in her frustration. Ayla reached out a hand, laying it gently on Y/n's arm. "Hey, don't let her ruin your day, Y/n. She's not worth it."

Y/n sighed, pushing her plate away with a heavy heart. "I know, Ayla. It's just... seeing her brings back so many bad memories."

Kimberly nodded in agreement, her brows furrowed with sympathy. "She's toxic, Y/n. You're better off without her."

Y/n managed a weak smile, grateful for her friends' support. As she reached for her phone, hoping to distract herself from her thoughts, she felt a familiar buzz in her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she saw a text from Reneé.

💞Queen💞: Hey cutie, just taking a break in the studio. How's your day going?❤️

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at the sight of Reneé's nickname, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She quickly typed out a response, eager to shift her focus away from Kate and onto the woman who truly mattered.

Cutie🩵🧸: Not the best, ran into someone I'd rather not see. How is the studio? 🥰💋

Before Y/n could even set her phone down, another message popped up from Reneé.

💞Queen💞: Aw, I'm sorry to hear that, Princess. Studio was good, but not as good as seeing your face. 😇😏❤️

Y/n couldn't help but giggle at Reneé's cheesy flirtation, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at the thought of her girlfriend. She quickly typed out a response, her fingers flying across the screen.

Cutie🩵🧸: Smooth, Rapp. 😉💋

As Y/n's thumbs hovered over the screen, she hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with Reneé.

Cutie🩵🧸: Actually, I ran into Kate. It kind of ruined my mood.😑💋

Y/n felt a pang of guilt as she hit send, not wanting to burden Reneé with her problems. But before she could even regret her decision, Reneé's reply came through.

💞Queen💞: Oh no, Cutie. Are you okay? Do you want me to come pick you up?❤️

Y/n's heart swelled with gratitude at Reneé's offer, feeling a rush of warmth wash over her. She quickly typed out a response, feeling a sense of relief knowing that she had someone like Reneé to lean on.

Cutie🩵🧸: No, it's okay. I'm with Ayla and Kimberly. But thank you for offering. Just having you to talk to helps. 🥰💋

As Y/n sat with her friends, a small smile played on her lips as she continued to exchange texts with Reneé. However, her smile widened when she saw Reneé's latest message pop up on her screen.

💞Queen💞: Hey babe, does Kate know about us?❤️

Y/n's fingers flew across the screen as she quickly typed out a response, wanting to reassure Reneé.

Cutie🩵🧸: No, Kate doesn't know. And honestly, it's probably for the best.💋

Almost immediately, another message came through from Reneé, this time with a hint of possessiveness and protectiveness that made Y/n giggle despite herself.

💞Queen💞:If I ever see that Kate, I swear I'll crush her under my Louboutin heels.👠❤️

Y/n couldn't help but laugh at Reneé's dramatic declaration, typing out a playful response.

Cutie🩵🧸: Calm down, Regina George. Nobody's getting crushed.💋

Reneé's reply came through teasingly, her words laced with humor and affection.

💞Queen💞: Oh, come on, babe. You know I can go all Regina George on her. I played her in the movie, remember?💄❤️

Y/n couldn't suppress another giggle as she typed out her response, shaking her head at Reneé's antics.

Cutie🩵🧸: As tempting as that sounds, Kate isn't worth the Mean Girls reference.💋

But Reneé wasn't about to back down, her next message filled with determination and a hint of mischief.

💞Queen💞: If I could, I would do it. Nobody messes with my girl.😠❤️

Y/n's heart fluttered at Reneé's words, feeling a rush of warmth wash over her at the thought of Reneé's unwavering protectiveness. She quickly typed out her reply, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Cutie🩵🧸:You have nothing to prove, Rapp. Besides, I'd rather have you serenading me than behind bars.💋

Reneé's response came through almost immediately, her words filled with love and devotion.

💞Queen💞: Trust me, babe, jail would be worth it if it meant keeping you safe and happy.❤️

Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her girlfriend, knowing that no matter what, Reneé would always be there to protect her.

As Y/n continued to exchange messages with Reneé, her smile widening with each playful interaction, she was oblivious to the amused glances shared between Kimberly and Ayla.

Kimberly nudged Ayla with a mischievous grin, nodding towards Y/n who was lost in her phone. "Looks like someone's got a secret admirer."

Ayla chuckled, leaning in closer to get a better look at Y/n's screen. "Or maybe it's just Reneé."

Y/n looked up from her phone, catching the teasing glint in Ayla's eye. "What's so funny, guys?"

Ayla smirked, unable to resist teasing her friend. "Oh, nothing. Just wondering who's got you smiling like that."

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "Just telling Reneé about running into Kate earlier. She wanted to go all Regina George on her."

Kimberly giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I bet that would be entertaining to watch."

Ayla nodded in agreement, a playful glint in her eye. "I saw the movie with Reneé as Regina. I'd love to see Kate get what she deserves."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, knowing her friends were only teasing. "Reneé won't actually crush anybody, you know. And you two need to behave."

The girls shared a laugh, their banter lightening the mood as they prepared to head to their next classes. As they walked, Ayla couldn't help but voice her thoughts on the situation.

"Kate's just a bitch," Ayla said bluntly, her voice tinged with disdain.

Kimberly nodded in agreement, her expression serious. "Yeah, she's always been trouble."

Curiosity piqued, Kimberly turned to Y/n with a questioning look. "Does Kate know about you and Reneé?"

Y/n shook her head firmly, her lips set in a determined line. "No, and she never will. It's none of her business."

Ayla smirked, a teasing glint in her eye. "Well, I gotta say, Y/n, you definitely upgraded from that rich bitch to a sweet and cute international singer."

Y/n couldn't help but blush at Ayla's comment, feeling a surge of gratitude for her friends' unwavering support. With a smile, she linked arms with Kimberly and Ayla as they made their way to their next classes, knowing that no matter what, she was surrounded by people who truly cared about her.

#fandom #fanfic #celebs #celebrity #celebrities #hot celebs #renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #reneé rapp x fem!reader #reneé rapp x reader #renee rapp x fem!reader #regina george x reader #regina george fanfic #mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #mean girls

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