𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕤 // ℙ. 𝕄𝕒𝕩𝕚𝕞𝕠𝕗𝕗

Chapter 73: The Dinner

WARNING: This chapter deals with sexual assault and child molestation. There are also some depictions of alcohol in this chapter, but nothing too bad. 18+ content.

Thanks to everyone who was asking about my dog! He's fine, he was just having some gastric issues but he's all good now.

But anyway, 8k words later...

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"Now when they ask you what you do for a living, what do you say?"

"I am a stripper."

"What?! Pietro, no!"

"But it is very believable."

Farah looked at Pietro with a rather baffled expression as she put on her shirt. They were getting ready to go over to her grandparent's house and she was a little nervous for him to meet her family. She watched as he buttoned up a dark navy blue shirt.

"You can tell them you do anything else but that," Farah said to him, "Not that there's anything wrong with being a stripper, I just know that my grandma will want you to put on a show and my uncle would kick you out of the house," She rambled off as she put on a black corduroy skirt that had buttons lining the front.

"Well I also cannot say I am a superhero," Pietro corrected, looking at himself in the mirror that was hanging from the wall. He left quite a few buttons undone at the top of his shirt and he grabbed a couple of his rings from off of Farah's old dresser.

"Ok so you can't tell them that you are a stripper or a superhero," Farah said in agreement as she put in a pair of gold earrings. She glanced over at him for a moment and sighed, walking towards him.

Pietro watched as she took a few steps closer, reaching her hands up and closing a few more of the buttons on his shirt. He let out a fake offended gasp, placing a hand on his chest.

"Are you slut-shaming me?" Pietro asked sarcastically, looking down at her. Farah widened her eyes, not entirely realizing he was joking.

"What? No, I just know that if you show this much skin that my grandma and great aunts will never stop touching you and I don't really want to sit there and watch them gawk over you," Farah rambled off, still fixing his buttons. Pietro chuckled a little and placed his hands on both her cheeks, pulling her face up so their eyes met.

"Princessa, I was only joking, I do not actually care," Pietro said to her before gently pecking her lips and letting go of her face. Farah kissed him back and just looked at him, raising her eyebrow for a second.

"Hey, Speedy?"

"Hmm?"

"You speak Romanian right?"

Pietro walked towards the bathroom to put on cologne, looking at her with a raised eyebrow, "Yes," He replied simply, not really sure why she was asking. Farah sat down on the bed gently and looked at him.

"Then why do you call me Princessa, isn't that Russian?" She asked curiously, exaggerating the way she said Princessa. Pietro shrugged, looking in the mirror and fixing his hair.

"I speak Russian too."

"You speak three languages?!" Farah asked, rather amazed by that. She had always struggled in language classes and she barely passed Spanish in high school. Farah just admired him from afar, genuinely impressed.

"Actually I speak Ukrainian as well, so four languages," Pietro said like it was nothing, walking back into her room. Farah was sitting there looking at him with her jaw agape, not saying anything. Pietro furrowed his eyebrows.