#hiss x richard

[scientistservant]

Don't separate them.

[fighting-naturalist]

one last thing...

[hitchell-mope]

Stranger Things Robin Hood 1973 au.

Mike. Robin Hood.

Jane. Maid Marian.

Lucas. Little John.

Robin. Lady Cluck.

Jonathan. Alan A Dale.

Dustin. Friar Tuck.

Jim. Richard The Lionheart.

Carver. Prince John.

Walsh. Sir Hiss.

Hargrove. Sheriff Of Nottingham.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Contracted Love ~ MYG

WORD COUNT: 7.1K

GENRE: CEO AU, marriage contracts, blackmailing, fake dating, fake marriage, falling love and realising you’re scared, (might actually be my fav piece)

PAIRING: Yoongi X Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

As Yoongi began to walk through the bustling heart of the city he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back from the meeting he had just left and he didn't know whether to laugh or cry at what had happened.

It had been his grandfather's will reading, something that heartbreaking in and of itself but what was getting to Yoongi more was the stipulation that came along with his portion of the will. 

"It is not my wish for you to end up like me, old, alone and afraid of love."

Was that the piece of paper read, his grandfather was giving him strict orders to follow if he had any chance of getting his grandfather's portion of the company he owned and he needed it.

There was no way it could go to his father's side of the family, the vultures as his grandfather called them. They only hung around him long enough to know that they were going to be put into the will and didn't want to know his grandfather any other time. But it was all stupid. In order to collect his portion he had to be married and have a child all within a year.

A man who had hardly dated before was supposed to married and have a child within twelve months if he wanted any chance of keeping his company alive. Now Yoongi could have sworn he heard the ticking of a clock in the back of his mind as a constant reminder that he hadn't got much time.

"Please, I promise I can get it for you by the end of the week if you just give me some more time!" A voice pleaded, interrupting his thoughts and making him freeze on the sidewalk wondering what was unfolding in front of him.

"I've heard this a million times, Yn, I'm sick of hearing it." A male said, angrily staring down at you as you whimpered a little. He was your landlord Richard and he had just served you with an eviction notice for your business.

"Pages & Aromoa's will be a hit in no time and you'll have all the money I owe you." You sniffled but Richard handed you the piece of red paper and walked away, ignoring your begging and driving off.

"Fucking cunt," You hissed before heading inside of the door.

Yoongi stared up at the cafe sign it was basically falling apart but it was easily readable. The brick walls of the cafe had patches of Ivy clinging to the surface as if trying to breathe life into the ageing structure. The windows were slightly grim but offered a glimpse into the warmth inside that awaited anyone walking by. 

The cafe was nestled between two giant skyscrapers, one of which belonged to Yoongi but he'd never even noticed the cafe before. Sighing to himself he wondered if this was the cafe his grandfather had been boasting about before he had died and he found himself walking inside. The bell above the door sounded as he did so but you were nowhere to be seen.

"I'll be just a minute," Your voice called out. Despite the outside appearance of the building, Yoongi was pleasantly surprised when he walked inside. The interior was a sanctuary of tranquillity and refinement. Polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft glow of vintage bulbs that were casting a warm ambience in the cafe. The perfect place to hide away and work or even read which was something that clearly happened here.

There were shelves lining the walls, stretched from floor to ceiling, the books all looked used and loved. Plush armchairs and cosy reading nooks were all over the place, offering a place for someone to lose themselves in the pages of a good book or work in silence. It was obvious why his grandfather had loved this place and had been talking about it for months.

"Stupid, machine." Yoongi heard you grumbling as you finally came up from behind a counter and smiled warmly in his direction. The smile that sent a warmth throughout his chest he suddenly felt guilty about having.

"What can I get you? And please, don't say coffee because the press is broken and the machine won't work," You pleaded with him, Yoongi's mouth opened to say something but he found himself unable to speak, struck by something he didn't understand. His chest was fluttering and his stomach was in knots, he didn't know what was happening. 

"Oh! Are you deaf? I know some sign language but I can write stuff down if it's easier." Before Yoongi had a chance to protest you were beginning to sign to him, something he didn't even understand himself but he was pretty sure you'd gotten it wrong.

"Can I get some tea?" He didn't know what was going on with his stomach but his grandfather always told him that tea solved most issues. Something warm to settle a raging stomach.

"Sure! I have a whole selction-" You were about to list off the extensive list you had when Yoongi shook his head,

"Early grey would be fine, with Milk."

"To go?" You arched a brow at him, most people that came in dressed the way he was got all of their orders to go. You knew the type he was, a businessman, too busy to learn the name of the place they were in but were loyal to it, it was nice.

"Erm," Yoongi glanced around and then down at his watch. He wasn't due back at work for another hour or so,

"I'll stay," He smiled at you and you nodded, pointing around the shop for him to sit anywhere he wanted. It wasn't like it was going to get busy anytime soon and your regular customer you'd had for a few months had suddenly stopped coming recently.

"Sure, make yourself comfortable." You gestured around the room and Yoongi stayed frozen in place,

"Don't you need my name for the order?" Yoongi countered you smirked a little at him.

"Because it'll get lost in the sea of customers?" You asked sarcastically, laughing nervously at the end,

"I guess that's true." He chuckles a little, and for the first time in a long time it feels like a genuine laugh from him, something he hadn't done for a long time

"He died?" Your voice was so sympathetic as soon as Yoongi told you about his grandfather, Rath, who had been your most loyal and regular customer. The two of you had been discussing your business for a while and you'd mentioned to Yoongi about having to close down soon if you weren't picking up in business.

"I wondered why he stopped coming by," You slowly sank down in the armchair opposite Yoongi and he smiled sadly down at the cup of tea in his hands. 

"Were you close to my grandfather?" You weren't close with the man but he'd been coming in every day it felt like you were friends.

"I wouldn't say close but we did talk a lot whenever he was here, he loved you." You smiled, Rath had spoken so much about Yoongi that you felt as though you knew him but he hadn't been at all what you were expecting. 

You'd expected some small, nerdy-looking guy but Yoongi was the opposite, he was built well, dressed in the finest of suits and looked as though he could be in the pages of magazines.

"I have a proposition for you." He suddenly said. Yoongi wasn't blind, he could see the business was going under and he knew you needed him as much as he needed you.

"Which is?" You laughed a little, looking up at the time and then back to Yoongi. The two of you had been sat talking for almost two hours now and still not a single other person had come in, which hadn't gone unnoticed by Yoongi, who was already concocting a plan in his mind.

"I need to get married." He said bluntly.

"And I need your help to do it." You held back the urge to laugh as you stared at him, you weren't sure what his grandfather had told him but you didn't know anyone in the market at the minute.

"Unfortunately I'm not sure I'm your girl, I can't help."

"But you can. You see, I have a lot of money and you need a lot of money." You knew that already, the Min family were richer than rich, one of the richest families in the world.

"What makes you think I NEED money?" You were trying to play it close to your chest, but it was true. You were desperate for money, your coffee machines were broken and you were behind on four months worth of rent.

"Yn, let's be real, your business is going under and I can help. I can keep you afloat or make you a huge success, whatever you want I can do that." As amazing as that sounded you still didn't know anyone that would be willing to just randomly get married to him,

"But I don't know anyone that wants to be married." You shook your head but Yoongi smirked at you,

"You can marry me," The words registered in your brain and you bit back the urge to laugh in his face.

"Are you insane?" You added a nervous laugh at the end and stood up, moving away from where he was sitting but he was quick to follow you.

"I have a lot of influence, I can easily make this place well known." He told you with a giant smile, your hands nervously tugged at the cleaning rag in your hand and you stared at him. 

"Just for marrying you?" 

"Just marrying me. All fake, no one would have to know we're not really together," Shit like this didn't happen in real life, only in books and really bad film adaptations, there had to be a catch. 

"What do you get out of this? Why do you need a wife so badly?" Was this something he did on a regular? Ask random women to marry him and then never follow through with all of his promises.

"If I get married, I can collect my grandfather's part of the company but I need a wife." He was going to ignore the child part until absolutely necessary, he was sure there was a way out of that.

"Why wouldn't he leave it to you?" You frowned, Rath had seemed so sure of Yoongi, you were positive he would have left his Grandson something. 

"He doesn't want me to end up alone," Yoongi admitted, your heart breaking a little as you remembered Rath mentioning he wished he'd never divorced Yoongi's grandmother,

"Oh."

"You'd get your business up and running, booming, I'd get half of the company away from my vultures of a family and everyone will be happy." You'd heard stories of the other side of Yoongi's family, stories from Rath and things you'd read about in the media.

"Okay...But there have to be some rules in place...A contract?"

"Agreed," Yoongi glanced down at his watch and bit his lip, he was already late for a meeting but that didn't matter.

"Come up to my office tonight, give your name to security and they'll bring you up. We'll work out a contract and hash out all of the details." He smiled warmly at you and you somehow believed him that all of this was going to work.

"My business will be fixed if I do this, right?"

"I promise." He breathed out before rushing out of the door, your heart racing at the thought of all of this becoming true. You glanced down at your outfit before cursing yourself, you were dressed in clothes with holes and your apron was torn to pieces.

"New outfit," You mumbled, heading to the door and locking it up. If you were going to go into business with Yoongi then you wanted to look the part. 

"Come in," Yoongi called as he heard a small tapping at his office door, the day had gone on for longer than he'd liked and he was looking forward to writing out the contract and heading home for the night. 

"Mr Min, Yn is here." His assistant announced before shutting the door, Yoongi slowly glanced up from his desk and his eyes almost popped out of his head.

He had been expecting you in the same scraps of clothes you had worn this morning but instead, you were dressed in a black pencil skirt and a red silk top that was unbuttoned to show just enough cleavage.

"Is this okay? It's the only thing I had left from my office days," You laughed nervously when you noticed him staring at you a little longer than he had done that morning.

"It's-It's erm, perfect." His voice stuttered and cracked as he stared at you. He had no idea that you could look this way and now he suddenly felt as though he was out of his depth. 

"Please sit," He gestured to the seat in front of his desk before grabbing two bottles of water and sitting back down. By now you'd gotten out a worn leather-bond book from your bag and smiled.

"Let's get straight to it," You said, your tone businesslike yet hidden with a little humour. Yoongi smiled to himself, preparing his own notepad.

"We need some rules in place, so nothing is blurred along the way." He stated simply.

"Your business will be my number one priority during all of this. We'll sit down with a bookkeeper and organise your bills as well as figure out anything that's owed." You suddenly felt your chest tighten, you were in a massive amount of debt. Yoongi had already gone into research mode when he got home and knew everything you needed to pay off.

"T-That might be a lot. Are you sure you're up for it?" You hated that you were in so much debt, when you'd ventured out alone to own your own place you'd been so sure it would be great you could pay it back in no time.

"No issue, I assure you, I didn't become the CEO Of Min Media but shying away from challenges." Your debt wouldn't even cause a dent in his savings but he wasn't going to tell you that and make you feel bad about it.

"That means a lot...Thank you," You smiled warmly, the smile sent his stomach into knots once again, he really wanted to see someone about that.

"We need to keep everything strictly professional." You finally stated, looking up from your notepad and back at Yoongi who was, once again, staring at you.

"Agreed." He jotted it down on the notepad.

"Secondly, we can't tell anyone it's not real. It's imperative to me we keep everything hidden. We keep up a genuine illusion to appease my family and the shareholders." He told you, if anyone found out this was all fake he'd most likely lose his shareholdings as well as be the laughingstock of the media world.

"Agreed." You wrote it down, and Yoongi eyed you up. You'd been quiet about your family finding out and it worried him a little. He didn't want you to go around telling anyone it was fake, it would only take one slip-up for the world to know.

"What about your family?"

"What about them?" You asked, staring up at him with a blank expression on your face, Yoongi frowned.

"You can't tell them the truth." He reminded you and you nodded, your lips in a line as you shrugged your shoulders a little.

"Not a problem, I haven't spoken to them in almost four years since I went out on my own to own a cafe."

"Understood. We must present as a united front," He stared at you. His heart felt heavy at the thought of your family ignoring you for following your dreams. 

"We will have to attend social events together, support each other publicly and appear as a happy married couple at all times." You nodded at him.

"I can handle that." It was no big deal, you'd get to dress fancy for a while and it would be fun,

"Living arrangements?" Yoongi wrote down and then stared at you,

"Well, I currently have a place in the lower part of Seoul, you're more than welcome to come and live with me," You teased only to be met with widened eyes.

"That was a joke Yoongi," You clarified with a small laugh,

"You can move in with me." He stated plainly, you frowned at him. As much as you hated your place you weren't sure moving in with him was the best idea.

"Is it necessary though?"

"Yn, once we're seen together you'll never get peace...People will want to know why a soon-to-be-married couple are living separately." You knew he was right, there would be too many questions and you didn't want to have to deal with them,

"Okay."

"I'll arrange a moving van for you tomorrow." He smiled, writing down on a sticky note to remind himself once the two of you were done.

"Can I suggest one more?"

"Sure." He looked up at you, expecting something about asking to be paid, or for more than you were getting out of it. All of which he was willing to do if it meant getting what he needed out of you.

"No falling in love. It's a business arrangement and any romantic feelings that may develop should be ignored." Yoongi was taken back but nodded his head at you. 

"Of course. We have a deal." He smiled shaking your hand across the table.

With a sense of determination, you added a final clause to your contract: Yoongi would take over the financial management of Pages & Aromas, ensuring its stability and prosperity while also shouldering the burden of its debts.

"We will be announcing our marriage this weekend, it'll be held here. In the meantime, I'll pay your rent for the cafe," He stated as you both signed along the pieces of paper, Yoongi took them both into his grasp and filed them in his drawer his eyes lingering over the clause about not falling in love.

"I'd like it if you didn't work for a few months if that's okay?" He suggested, staring at you as you frowned.

"We can fix up the shop a little, have it redone to your specifications and then announce it as a grand opening." 

"What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"You can do whatever you want, money is no issue."

"It is for me."

"We'll be married, what's mine...is yours," He stated before laying down a black card in front of you.

"Yoongi, it's already enough you're helping my business I can't take your money too." The statement was shocking, everyone Yoongi knew was always after his money, it was why he'd never dated in the past.

"Fine. But please keep it, you can use it as an emergency card, or if you need an outfit for an event...it's yours," He told you as you flipped the card over, already finding your name inscribed on it, had he been so sure about all of it since this morning?

"Okay. Fine."

"I'll have Alan drive you home and I'll see you tomorrow at my place." He smiled warmly at you as you got up from the chair, feeling a little overwhelmed with everything but nodding your head.

With a sense of nervousness mingled with excitement, you stepped into Yoongi's luxurious penthouse apartment. Your final box had been taken up by a group of men and you were unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You walked through the door, slipping off your shoes before your eyes widened at the opulence that surrounded you. The spacious living area was adorned with sleek modern furniture and tasteful artwork while floor-to-ceiling windows offered sweeping views of the city skyline below. You could practically see all of Seoul from up here, how did he get anything done? You knew you'd find yourself people-watching more than you should.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you set about unpacking your belongings, your mind racing with thoughts of the new chapter that lay ahead. As you sorted through boxes and arranged your stuff in their designated places, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place in such a lavish environment.

"Mr Min will be late this evening, he said to make yourself at home," Alan, who had driven you home the night previous, said with a warm smile on his face. But how were you supposed to do that? You didn't know what you were and weren't allowed to do or even where to go. Did he have rooms off-limits to you? More questions flooded your mind but as the afternoon waned into evening, you found solace in the familiar routine of preparing dinner, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of food cooking on the stove grounding you in the present moment.

You'd always loved cooking, you were hungry and determined to make a good impression on Yoongi. Even going as far as to make your famous cake no one could say no to it.

By the time Yoongi arrived home, the apartment was filled with the tantalizing scent of home-cooked food and freshly baked treats. Stepping through the door, he was greeted by the sight of you bustling about the kitchen, a warm smile gracing your lips.

"Welcome home," You said, your voice infused with genuine warmth, something Yoongi hadn't had the pleasure of hearing in years. His eyes lit up with surprise and appreciation as he took in the scene before him. 

"You've been busy," he remarked, a note of amusement in his voice as he watched you carefully. You shrugged modestly, a warm feeling spreading onto your cheeks. 

"I wanted to do something nice for you. Dinner will be ready soon, and I made cake." Yoongi's smile widened as he crossed the room to envelop you in a grateful hug.

"Thank you, Yn. You didn't have to do all this." You were in shock at the hug at first, your heart thumping as you tried not to overthink it. He was just grateful for the food. You smiled a little, returning the embrace, a sense of contentment settling over you. 

"I know. But I wanted to." You admit before going to set everything down on the table ready to eat. 

It had been almost a week since the news had broke that you and Yoongi were going to be married and he'd been right. People followed you EVERYWHERE. You'd gone grocery shopping two nights after the news was released and you'd been followed by men with cameras, all of them screaming questions at you. Luckily you and Yoongi had already come up with a story for you both, something easy to remember. You'd met because of his grandfather and it had almost been love at first sight. 

Tonight though you were at a restaurant together, your hands linked on the table as you stared lovingly at one another. All of it feels a little too real for you. 

"Tell me something about you that I wouldn't find in a magazine or news article." You begged Yoongi. Since moving in with him you'd done extensive research on him, wanting to be prepared in case any of his crazy family members tried to doubt the two of you. 

Yoongi stared at you, hesitating for a moment as he thought about it. He was torn between the desire to open up to you and betraying your agreement but the look in your eyes made it hard to resist. 

"Well, I've always loved astronomy," He confessed, his eye staring down at the glass feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"There's something about the vastness of the universe that puts everything into perspective." Your eyes lit up with interest, finally, something about him that wasn't run-of-the-mill CEO shit.

"That's beautiful," You whispered, 

"I've always been drawn to the stars as well." You admit, the two of you getting lost in conversation and completely forgetting about the many people snapping photos of you together. Yoongi let himself open up to you more, finding himself falling in a freefall for you. His head reminded him of the agreement you'd made together, no falling in love and he couldn't risk jeopardizing everything. 

"Why haven't you spoken to your family?" He suddenly found himself asking over dessert, your fork freezing midway to your mouth as your throat suddenly ran dry.

"They decided they didn't want me to ruin their family name,"

"But you were following your dreams, shouldn't that be something they were proud of you for doing?" He didn't understand how someone couldn't support the person they loved in everything that they did. 

"The Score family don't follow dreams, they crush them," Your voice was flat and dry as you placed your fork down.

"Score? As in-"

"Lawyers, the best in the business." You hissed out, you hated that all of this was being bought up but you owed it to Yoongi to tell him the truth.

"I don't speak to them, biologically I'm their daughter but legally I'm not."

"You were emancipated?" He watched you closely and you nodded your head,

"As soon as I left the company I did it myself," You admit with a smile on your face, you were proud of what you'd done. Being a lawyer had never been your dream and if the people that had raised you had it their way you'd still be another cog in the inner workings of their awful company.

"Believe me Yoongi, they have nothing to do with me-" His hand was on top of yours, rubbing over your skin in a soothing motion.

"It wouldn't bother me if they were still in your life." He promises, a weight being lifted from your chest as you let out a happy sigh.

The two of you continued to talk all night long, discovering things each other you hadn't known before and it was starting to feel like a true friendship was forming.

Months began to fly by as you and Yoongi worked on your fake relationship and countless parties you attended together, business and personal, but tonight was the one you were most nervous about. You were pacing around in the living room of the apartment waiting for Yoongi to come down and meet you. Your hands nervously played with the purse you were holding, the prospect of meeting his family tonight looming over your head like a dark cloud. 

The door to the living room opened and Yoongi stepped inside, freezing when he saw you pacing around but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were in a stunning floor-length gown, crimson colour to match his tie but it clung to your body perfectly, seeing you turned his blood to fire. You paced away from him giving him the perfect view of the back of the gown, which had a crisscrossing strap at the back, the fabric shimmering and glowing with every step you took.

"I don't know if I can do this." You admit to Yoongi once you notice him there. You'd been faking it with everyone and everyone believed you so far but were his family going to be so easy to convince?

"Your family...they're going to see right through me." Your voice trembled with uncertainty and Yoongi smiled weakly walking over to you. He was nervous himself but he wasn't going to admit it to you.

"Yn, you're stronger than you think." He told you, his hand gently reaching out and rubbing your arm.

"We'll get through tonight, together." He had no doubt the two of you could convince his family you were together, to be honest, he had a hard time convincing himself it wasn't real. 

"What if they ask about our relationship and I cock the story up? What if they see through me?" He smiled down at you, running his hand over your cheek.

"We'll handle it, Yn. I won't let anything happen to you," And he meant it, if anything were to ever happen to you he knew he'd never survive it. 

After months of spending every second by your side, he felt himself falling harder and harder in love with you until the point where everything was blurred except for you. All he cared about was a future with you. His words were like a lifeline pulling you back from the edge of panic, you took in a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on everything again. 

"And if they don't believe us? What happens to me?" You asked, your voice tinged with apprehension.

"I'll make sure your business is taken care of, I'll not let anything happen to you but for now, let's focus on getting through tonight together." He whispers, kissing your hand softly as you feel a spark running through your veins. No matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew that as long as you faced them together, you could conquer anything that stood in your way. And with that realization, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a glimmer of hope.

As the two of you made your way through the entrance, all eyes turned to greet you, your presence as a couple commanding attention amidst the sea of glamorous attendees. 

"They're staring." You uttered to Yoongi as he smirked, his arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you walked together, your steps synchronized in harmony. Heads turned, smiles were exchanged and greetings were offered as you passed by people. 

"How could they not? You look like you stepped out of a magazine, you look beautiful." It wasn't the first compliment that Yoongi had ever paid you, in fact, you'd grown used to the compliments he'd give to you all the time. Including the small hugs and kisses the two of you would share even if you were in public, it was clear lines were starting to blur but you weren't entirely sure you minded anymore.

"Look, it's Min Yoongi and his fiancée," Someone whispered, their voice tinged with awe. 

"They're a stunning couple." Her date said back to her, their eyes trailing over you both as you moved through the crowd. 

"Let's give them something to talk about," Yoongi whispered but before you had a chance to ask what he was talking about he was taking you over to the dance floor. 

His hand rested gently on your waist, guiding you with a tender pull as you began to move around the dance floor together, the rest of the world fading into the background. 

Your movements were slow and deliberate, each steps a silent conversation between you as you swayed to the rhythm of the music. Your heart raced with every beat, your breath catching in your throat as you allowed yourself to be swept up by the magic of the moment.

"You look beautiful," Yoongi whispered, your eyes locking as you stared at one another.

"You said that already," You mumbled nervously as he smirked to himself, moving in time with you as you fell back into a comfortable silence. Not a single word needed to be uttered as you knew what was happening to you, you were falling in love with him too fast and everything was falling apart around you. You continued to dance together, neither of you daring to speak the words that lingered in the back of your head. Knowing that acknowledging your love would shatter the delicate illusion you'd worked so hard to maintain.

"So this is the lovely Yn." You turned your head to face Juliain, Yoongi's father and Yoongi wrapped his arm tighter around your waist.

"Lovely dance the two of you did, your mother made me dance shortly after." He chuckles softly but Yoongi remains deadpan and unreadable, his grip on you tightening. You'd heard about Julilan from both Rath and Yoongi and you knew the man was bad news, a slimeball only after money.

"Julilan. Lovely to see you, shame you didn't make it to grandfather's funeral, it was a lovely service." Yoongi said coldly, your eyes staring up at him. Julian had refused to go to the funeral but had gone to the reading of the will, only to see what he was entitled to. 

"I have no doubt, you always knew how to throw a party." Julian laughed but your heart shattered, Rath had been an amazing man and to insinuate that a party was held for his dying instead of a grand funeral boiled your blood.

"Party? A man died-"

"Hush. You don't speak unless spoken to." Julian said in a dismissive tone, your mouth dropping open as you couldn't believe the man in front of you. 

"With all due respect, sir, I am not a decoration on Yoongi's arm I am his Fiancée," You spoke clearly but Julian turned to look at his son who was now red in the face,

"I see she has no manners or concept of brains. Where did you pick her up? A brothel?" Your stomach dropped as you looked down at yourself, was he implying you looked like a whore? The woman who had dressed you tonight told you that you'd looked elegant.

"Don't." Yoongi seethed through gritted teeth,

"Women should be seen and not heard. Act like the trophy wife you are meant to be." Julian was in your face but within seconds he was shoved away by Yoongi, a smirk playing on his father's lips as he realised he was getting under his skin.

"Don't speak to my wife like that." He ordered but you pulled at his arm, you could already see people starting to stare and Yoongi didn't need the bad press.

"You're not married yet. Are you really going to cause a scene over a woman? Behave." He hissed at him, you stared at him as you waited for him to insult him one last time.

"Still just a child." He muttered, about to walk away when you finally found your voice once more.

"A child who has done more than you'll ever accomplish in your life." You hissed out at him, earning a smirk from Yoongi, he had to admit he was proud of you for not backing down from him.

"Why you little-" A hand was raised in the air but Yoongi caught it, shoving his father away from you.

"I see why you hate the man." You mumbled as Yoongi checked on you, his eyes softening once he saw you were okay.

"If he'd hurt you just then." It didn't bear to think about, he was angry, blood-curdling as he thought about the way his father had gone to strike you. 

"He didn't." You whispered to him, your hand rubbing his back softly but it did nothing to calm him down right now.

"I'd kill him."

"Yoongi." You pleaded with him, but he was lost in his own anger.

"He's a disgusting piece of shit and I would have killed him." You stepped in front of him, your eyes finding his as he stared down at you in shock,

"But then I'd have no one to watch the stars with," You whispered only for his whole body to relax and he nodded slowly at you.

"Let's get some food and go out on the balcony, we can go and look at the stars and pretend Julian isn't even here," You offered to him.

Yoongi ventured off to fetch some food and you found yourself alone in the gala, looking around at everyone who was dancing together or mingling. This world was something you'd never thought you'd fit into before but after spending so much time in it, it almost felt like home.

"Ah, Yn dear, there you are." You slowly turned around to see Mia, Rath's ex-wife making her way to you with a giant smile on her face.

"I've been meaning to have a word with you," She said as she reached you, her voice gentle and a welcoming contrast compared to her son.

"Of course, Mrs Min. Is everything alright?" You eyed her up as she smiled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

"No one's called me that in years, call me Mia." She begged, you nodded at her and slowly made your way out onto the balcony to talk better together.

"I wanted to first tell you how happy I am that Yoongi has found someone like you." Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart fluttering at the unexpected praise.

"T-Thank you, Mia. That means a lot to me." Mia reached out to pat your hand affectionately.

"You know, I've seen the way he looks at you. It reminds me of the way Rath used to look at me." Your breath caught in your throat at the implication of her words.

"I...I'm not sure what you mean." She chuckled softly at you,

"Oh, my dear, don't be so modest. It's written all over his face- He loves you, and I couldn't be happier for the both of you, even if you were faking it at first." You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to process everything you'd just heard. Yoongi loved you - truly, deeply and unequivocally and that sent a surge of panic through you.

"Rath would have adored seeing you both together," Mia added before giving you an envelope.

"In my side of the will I was to give this to the beautiful girl from the cafe, now I assume that's you." You stared down at the envelope and nodded, quickly placing it into your bag to look at another time, when you weren't so stressed. 

"I-I have to go," You rushed out, panic taking over you as you began to hurry through the crowded hall. Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear, you loved him too but there was no way you could do this. You raced around a corner when you collided with Yoongi, sending you both sprawling to the floor.

"Yn, what's wrong?" Concern was etched in his features as he reached out to steady you. Your breathing turned tagged as you struggled to compose yourself, slowly standing up.

"I...I need to talk to you," Your voice barely came out above a whisper but Yoongi nodded, leading you to a nearby alcove away from prying eyes.

"What is it, Yn? You're shaking." He reached out to touch you and you took in a deep breath, words tumbling out in a rush as you fought to make sense of everything.

"I just spoke to your grandmother, and she...she said that you love me, Yoongi. And...I...I don't know what to do." Yoongi's expression softened as he reached out to cup your trembling hands in his, his touch sending a shiver of warmth coursing through you.

"Yn, listen to me. I know this is overwhelming but you need to understand something...you belong here with me," You stared up at him as he didn't deny falling for you, tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head.

"I ran away from this world."

"And now you're back but I promise it'll be nothing like your family's world." He breathed out as you stared at him, his eyes boring into you,

"You belong here, with me."

` "What if you suddenly decide I'm not good enough for you? What if I can't give you everything you deserve?" Yoongi brushed a gentle thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear.

"You're everything I need, Yn. Your love, your strength, your unwavering support - it's more than I could ever hope for. And as long as we have each other, we can face whatever comes our way." Tears began to melt away as you stared at him.

"I love you, Yoongi." You whispered, the words feeling like a weight was taken right off our chest.

"I love you, Yn, Always." He whispered. 

With a soft sigh, he closed the distance between you and you leaned in slowly to him. It felt like an eternity until your lips met in a tender kiss, time seemed to stand still as you savoured the sweetness of the moment, your hearts beating in harmony as you finally surrendered to the pull of love. It was a kiss so full of tenderness and longing, of hope and promise. 

When you pulled away your foreheads touched and you giggled a little.

"Let's go home, I wanna show you how much I really love you," He winks, as you squeal a little taking his hand and practically dragging him out of the party.

Months Later 

"CEO'S Expecting: Min Yoongi and Min Yn Announce Pregnancy, Anticipate The New Heir To The Legacy?" You read out the title of the "Webber Files" newspaper and stared over at Yoongi with a blank expression.

"I see why their paper sucks," You grumbled, folding it up and staring at your husband who hadn't been able to take his eyes off you.

"Don't look at me like that, the last time you looked at me like that, this happened!" You stated, pointing down at your baby bump and whining at him.

"But we had fun," He wiggled his eyebrows at you and sat down beside you on the sofa, the two of you curling up together on a lazy Saturday morning.

"We did," You giggled as he ran his hand over your bump, smiling happily to himself. Not long after you found out you were expecting Yoongi told you the other stipulation about getting his grandfather's portion of the company and that was a child but you couldn't have been happier it was happening.

"Julian will flip a lid." You laughed at the thought of his father finding out about his son having a child but more importantly, you couldn't wait for him to figure out he was getting nothing in the will besides a small shop in the middle of nowhere.

"Oh, I meant to say. Gran asked if you'd looked into the envelope yet. Whatever that means," He frowns and you reach out for your bag, opening it up to find the envelope still sitting there.

As you took it out and opened it you couldn't believe what you were reading.

"By now I assume Yoongi and yourself are together and knowing My Mia she would have given this to you at the appropriate time, but enclosed are the deeds to your cafe. All yours, all paid for, as well as the number to my lawyer who will arrange for you to inherit some money as an investment to you and your dream.

Best Wishes,

Rath,"

You and Yoongi stared at one another, laughing a little as you realised Rath had been planning your get-together for a very long time.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp

[sanarsi]

Cheri Cheri Lady

stepfather!Reed Richards x f!Reader

Summary: Your stepdad fucks you on a sun lounger. Warnings: +18, MDNI, porn with a little bit of plot, professor!Reed (only mentioned so it’s not that important), age gap, daddy kink, fingering, nipple play, praise kink, unprotected PIV, creampie Wordcount: 2,5k An: This is especially for @joelssluttyknee (I’m sorry it took me so long). Not exactly professor vibe but still hope you like it :) Also, I want to thank you for 1k followers. Like— it’s kinda crazy how this blog grew so fast in such a short time. Love y’all and thank you so so so much!!! Music I worked with: Cheri Cheri Lady - Modern Talking

Masterlist

Warm days have finally arrived. Your weekend lounging on a deck chair has become a routine, and after a while, not just yours.

It wasn't even noon yet when you were adjusting your sunglasses, sipping iced tea, and listening to the radio in the background. A gentle smile appeared on your face as you noticed out of the corner of your eye your stepfather turning from his stomach to his back.

He only lasted one weekend of watching you through the kitchen window before he decided to join you every time under the pretext of ‘I turned pale and looked unhealthy’. Your mother obviously believed it, why wouldn't she? Reed was the epitome of a perfect husband and stepfather, and your mother was happy that you two were finally getting along again.

If only she knew how exactly the two of you got along…

“I’m going to the store, do you want anything?” Her voice echoed from somewhere in the direction of the house.

You didn’t even glance in her direction before you shouted back, “Nah, we’re good.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Reed, take the chicken out of the freezer.”

“Sure, honey,” he replied, raising a hand to let her know he understood, in case she hadn’t heard him.

Just when you thought she had left because the silence was getting longer, she spoke again, "Remind your father to use sunscreen."

You rolled your eyes under your closed eyelids and sighed quietly.

"I've already done it twice."

"So do it a third time."

Like a martyr, you bent down to the grass for the cream, knowing your mother was watching everything. You didn't want to risk her wrath because ever since she started menopause, she had been unbearable.

“Apply it or you’ll burn yourself,” you said and placed the tube on his warm chest. He hissed at the sudden thermal shock, at which you started laughing and you could have sworn that you heard your mother snort quietly.

"Hag," he muttered under his breath.

"I'll be back by one." After a moment, her retreating footsteps could be heard, but before she left the house, her muffled scream rang out, "Chicken!"

Then there was only the slam of a door, the sound of an engine starting, and a large, warm hand on your thigh.

“You hear that?”

“Hm?” you murmured questioningly, even though you knew very well what he meant.

"We have an hour," he announced, allowing his hand to start moving towards your crotch. You flinched, pretending that you were actually shifting in the lounger, and sighed.

"Yeah, I don't know if—"

"Come to daddy."

You fell silent, feeling a hot flame bloom in your lower abdomen and looked to the side, immediately locking eyes with him. You loved teasing him but when he spoke to you in that tone and looked at you that way, you couldn't keep your guard up for long. His fingers tightened almost against your temple and you barely managed to keep from moaning.

“Come on, sweet girl.” He smiled encouragingly, nodding towards his thighs. You bit your lower lip, gaze sliding down his golden skin that was gleaming slightly from the sunlight.

You were shocked at how quickly he became the most handsome and attractive man in the world for you. Even though at first you resisted everything that was happening between you two, you quickly realized that it was pointless because Reed simply didn't give a shit.

You could be mad at him, tell him he's disgusting, that you should end it, and he never once took your words seriously, ended up fucking you on the desk in his office after class.

His hand tightened on yours, snapping you back to reality and pulled you gently towards him. You didn't even try to resist and just sat on top of him. You settled comfortably and he gladly helped you, using his fingers to massage your hips.

“Hi, daddy,” you started, immediately stepping into your favorite role.

“Hi, baby.” His smile was priceless.

At first, you were skeptical about this role-playing. It felt weird calling him that, considering your situation – he really was your father.

Well… stepfather.

Still, that's what your mother called him.

Help your father make dinner.

Father needs help in the garden

Go to the store with your father.

But surprisingly, it came easily and you started to enjoy it pretty quickly, and when you did, Reed was in seventh heaven. Sometimes you even called him dad in front of your mother, who was touched by it and he, who was turned on by this.

Then he liked to punish you for arousing him in the presence of that woman.

“You look so pretty in that pink swimsuit.” He hooked his fingers around the tie at your hip and slowly tugged on the string, letting the piece of material reveal your pussy.

“Thanks, I got it as a gift from my dad.”

“Hm,” he hummed, stroking your soft skin and watching, hypnotized, as his fingertips traveled down, getting closer to your core. “Your daddy knows what color perfectly highlights those sweet tits.”

Arousal hit your lower abdomen like a bucket of cold water. You sighed, shifting on his thighs, giving him the perfect opportunity to let his hand disappear beneath you. You shivered as you felt his thick fingers running along the length of your slit.

“Look at you, already so wet for daddy,” he purred in satisfaction and moved closer, pressing his lips to your neck. You moaned, closing your eyes and throwing your head back as he began to tease your hole so that more of your juices would wet his fingers. Wet kisses began to decorate your skin as he slowly made his way to your breasts. “Give me that sweet cherry. Need to taste her.”

You looked down with your mouth parted and slowly pushed the material covering your tits aside. Not even a second had passed before it was in his mouth. You watched as his tongue circled the hard nipple and he sucked it in with a purr. His fingers slowly entered you deeper, sending a wave of shivers every time he curled them. Soft moans began to leave your lips and you allowed yourself to play with his hair to somehow ground yourself and not drown in the pleasure.

“Daddy…” you sighed, slowly rubbing your hips.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, without breaking away from your tit. You shuddered as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh.

“Need you, daddy. Please.”

“My big girl needs me?” You nodded eagerly, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning louder. “Want daddy’s cock?” He finally looked at you and you couldn't help but smile widely.

He loved seeing you like this, loved making you carefree and happy. He would sin if he left you to your fate.

"Mhm," you hummed, hugging him tighter and moving closer, impaling yourself more on his fingers. An uncontrollable moan escaped your throat because his two fingers were definitely enough to make you lose your breath.

Reed smacked his lips disapprovingly as he saw the small frown forming between your brows. “So thirsty.”

He reached his other hand down to his shorts and squeezed his hard cock. A soft growl escaped him as he slowly began to pump himself through his pants.

"Daddy's already so damn hard for you, baby. Need to feel that sweet little cunt throbbing all over my cock."

You howled, feeling more aroused by the fact that he was touching you and himself at the same time. You fell silent, staring at each other with eyes filled with desire. His cock hardened every time you rode his fingers, moaning softly. He loved hearing the sounds that left your lips when he pleasured you. Your clit began to throb as you chased your fulfillment but Reed had other plans for you.

He pulled his fingers out of you, which was met with a whine from you. “Daddy, please…” you begged desperately to feel him inside you.

He looked at you with pity. “My poor little thing,” he smacked, gently stroking your cheek. He wanted to tease you some more but then he felt your juices dripping down his thigh and he barely held back an animalistic growl. “Fuck. Come ‘ere baby.”

He quickly slid his shorts down enough to pull his cock out. Your mouth watered at the sight of his glistening precum as it slowly dripped down his length. You immediately lifted your hips and moved closer to him. He held one hand around the base and the other caressed your thigh.

“Sit down,” he ordered without taking eyes off your pussy. He didn't have to tell you twice.

You slowly lowered your hips, allowing his head to slide inside and gasped before letting all your weight fall against him. You both moaned as your bodies were able to connect again after a few days of being apart. He wanted to enjoy this feeling but you didn't give him a chance, starting to rub yourself against him. His cock smoothly teased your cervix and happy trail your clit.

"I missed you," you sighed with a lazy smile and moved closer, resting your forehead against his. He hissed as you tightened around him.

“I missed you too, baby girl.”

He gripped your hips, helping you speed up your movements. You dug your nails into nape of his neck and your moans dying in his mouth as he kissed you deeply. His lips tasted even better than last time, and even though you were riding him, your desire only seemed to grow.

You responded to his wet kisses with commitment and started to lift your hips a little so that you could fall on him and let him painfully but pleasantly penetrate you. Reed was breathing heavily, a throaty groan leaving him each time he buried himself inside you to the very base.

If you could, you would try to take him deeper so his balls could also experience the feeling of being inside your warm core. You were horny for him and didn't even try to hide it, which only gave him more pleasure.

"Easy, baby, we have an hour, not ten minutes, and that's how long I will last if you don't slow down,” he warned, amused by how eagerly you were jumping on his dick. Not that it bothered him, he just wanted to enjoy you a little but you obviously had other plans.

“Can’t. Need you so bad, daddy,” you squealed in desperation. Reed rarely saw you like this, so he figured that this once, he could give you exactly what you needed. He hugged you and started to rub your back soothingly.

“Then maybe daddy can help you a little, hm?” he suggested and you honestly had no idea what to expect because despite his warm tone, there was a dangerous sparkle in his eyes. But you were too desperate to think about it, let alone care, so you nodded eagerly.

“Yes, please.”

That was enough for him to reconnect your lips in a kiss and his arms wrapped around you way too tightly. You sucked in a breath as you realized he was trying to immobilize you. You whimpered impatiently and let him shift slightly beneath you. Just a few inches was enough for the angle at which he entered you to make your hips tremble. You had time to get used to the new feeling and get everything you could from it, but that wasn't the point and you found out about it quite aggressively.

“Hold still,” he threw before he started to thrust his hips up.

Hard.

You opened your eyes wide, gasping for air as he entered you with aggressive movements and slowly pulled out. The moans started to become more like cries each time he entered you harder, deeper.

“Fuck— Daddy!” you screamed, clinging to his neck and bit your lip hard, trying to hold back your animal sounds.

Reed was too focused on fucking you to care if you were getting oversensitive.

Until safeword didn’t leave your lips, his mind would drift and his primal instincts would take over. He was just a man who had the exclusive possession of a wet, tight pussy whose owner he loved like crazy.

“Shh, just need to remind this sweet little hole ‘bout good manners,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “She clearly forgot that sucking daddy's cock like that is very selfish of her.”

You squealed louder and clung to him tighter as the burning sensation began to turn into the ever-increasing waves of an approaching orgasm. The sound of flesh slapping flesh and wetness of your cunt when his cock entered you was mind-blowing.

"Daddy just wanted to enjoy you a little and here you are, so greedy and needy. Not nice, baby. Not. Nice,” he smacked his lips with disapproval. You could barely catch your breath, let alone understand his words, but you knew he wasn't pleased because with each word he thrust into you harder and harder.

“Gonna come,” you managed to say.

"Oh and now you're gonna cum without my permission? What a naughty girl."

After these words you felt him playfully hit your cheek. You whined like a wounded animal as his cock sent the last waves of pleasure into your core before you disintegrated in his arms. You started to tremble as you milked his cock and he just laughed with satisfaction.

“That’s right, baby. So beautiful when you cum all over daddy’s cock,” he praised you and pressed you harder against his chest, letting himself ride out his orgasm. “Want me inside?”

His whisper against your ear sent another wave of shivers down to your core. You clenched around his cock, earning a heavy pant from him in response.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Attagirl.”

Then it was just your hypersensitive throbbing pussy and his seed flowing out of you as he continued to thrust until he came down from his peak, panting heavily.

You lay helplessly on his chest, bathed in sweat and sun. His heart was beating hard, you could feel his strength on your cheek. You spent a few minutes in silence, calming your breaths and every now and then, his lips found their way to your forehead, placing gentle kisses there while he stroked your hair.

The exhaustion was taking its toll, you were fulfilled lying comfortably in his arms bathed in warm rays. You didn't need anything more for your eyelids to start getting heavy.

"I would let you sleep like this but we have to make dinner before your mother gets back," he said with a soft smile which earned you a tortured groan in response. You sat up and looked down at him before you placed a few more soft kisses on his lips.

"Yeah, okay," you nodded, getting up from the lounger and started to fix your swimsuit. Reed stood up right after you and slapped your ass before heading home. You looked at his bare back and felt like a hungry animal watching his muscles work.

This man was going to be the death of you and that was for sure.

[teddypines]

Fight

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

Sumary: Dick and Batmom!reader got into a fight which upset both of them in the end.

Dick x Batmom!reader, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: Dick might be a bit out of character in this. Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

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

“Get back here, Richard!” Y/N yelled as Dick stormed off towards his room. The two of them had been in a fight. Dick had gotten really hurt on a patrol, but refused to seek medical attention. This, of course, upsetting Y/N. Hating to see one of her birds hurt like this. Yes, Dick was the oldest. yes he was old enough to deal with things on his own, but not with injuries like this. "Richard! Don’t you dare walk away right now!” Y/N yelled after Dick as she walked up the stairs. 

Dick ignored Y/N as he continued to struggle with walking towards his room. “Richard Grayson!!” Y/N yelled out one last time before Dick turned around to face Y/N. “Stop it! i am fine! I don't need you to baby me!” Dick hissed at Y/N. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but no Y/N needed to be a worried mother hen. “Just let me sleep! I do not need to be patched up!”

“Dick have you looked into a mirror? You look like hell, you need medical attention. Those wounds will get infected.” Y/N answered while trying to reach out for Dick. “I don’t need that, now stop being so annoying and let me be”

“Dickie, come on, please you really need to clean those. I am your mother, let me help you” Y/N Said, her anger slowly fading more and more as she looked at the beaten up boy. Something snapped in Dick’s tired mind and he got furious. “You are not my mother! Stop acting like you are!” Dick didn’t realize what he had said, because he turned around too fast to see the upset look on Y/N’s face. “I… I’m sorry Dick, i’ll let you be.” She said before Dick slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Y/N turned around and slowly walked towards the master bedroom, tears rolling down her face as she crawled into bed. After a while Bruce joined her in bed and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen with Dick?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t get an answer. not until the next morning. Bruce understood Y/N didn’t want to talk about it just yet and just held her even closer to him.

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The next morning Y/N did come down for breakfast, but she was rather quiet. Not like her usual self, not telling Damian to not mess with his brothers or telling Jason to put his book down. Everyone noticed but Dick. He was still upset, but he did feel bad. Once he shut his door last night he realized what he had said and that broke him more than the wounds he had. Breakfast was quiet but not awkward. 

After breakfast Y/N just got ready for work and waved Damian and Tim goodbye as they went to school. She kissed Bruce’s cheek when he went to work. Dick looked on as Y/N did her normal routine, only feeling left out since they didn’t give him his hug.

“Mom?” Dick called out to Y/N, but she didn’t answer, too busy getting her bag ready. Dick carefully tapped Y/N’s shoulder which made her stop packing her bag. “Yes?” She answered a bit on the dry side. “Mom… I…” Dick started but he couldn’t find the right words. “It’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to call me mom if you don’t want to.” Y/N said, upsetting them both in the process. She gave Dick a sad smile before leaving for work. 

Dick sighs and gets ready for uni. “What was that?!” Jason asked shocked as he looked at Dick from the living room. He had a day off so he was going to do nothing all day, maybe bother Alfred a bit. “Nothing.” Dick answered his brother. “That was most definitely not nothing!” Jason gasped. “Oh my god, you and mom had a fight!”

“We did not have a fight,” Dick said as he shoved one of his books into his bag. “I just said something I regret…” Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at Dick. “What did you say?”

Dick groaned a bit when he stretched his arm the wrong way when grabbing another book to put in his bag. “I might have said that she wasn't my mom so she should stop acting like it” This made Jason gasp. “Yeah, I know, I screwed up...”

<---------------------------------------------------------------------->

A few days go by in which both Dick and Y/N are upset over what happened, everyone saw it. Dick did get some medical attention for his wounds but the sad smile Y/N wore that week hurt more than anything else. Dick sighed and started to make his way around the manor in search of Y/N. He eventually found her in the Batcave looking over some files and homework Damian did. He carefully sat down next to her at the Batcomputer. “Mom?” He said, which made Y/N turn her head towards Dick. “I’m sorry mom. I never meant to yell at you or say you’re not my mother. Because I do love you as my mom even with my own mom being, well not here… I was just so tired and patrol didn’t go well, and uni wasn’t great that day and… and.. I just don’t know anymore. But I don’t want you to be upset… That hurts…” Dick said through his tears.

Dick was surprised when he felt two arms around him. Y/N held Dick close to her. “I forgive you, sweetie, but please don’t ever say it again. It really hurts, when all I wanted to do was make sure you were taken care of. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled, though.” Y/N said as she slowly leaned back and started to whip Dick’s tears away with her thumb. She carefully leaned over and kissed Dick’s forehead. “I love you, Bluebird.”

“I love you too, ma”

[makethatelevenrings]

Contaminated // D. Grayson x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY. Minors get BACK. Go yearn for the mines awaY FROM HERE. Emotions! Sex pollen but it’s enthusiastic consent. Unprotected sex.

Summary: Three months ago, Dick Grayson told you he didn’t love you anymore and walked out the door. Tonight, you found yourself the unwitting victim of a Poison Ivy attack that forces Dick Grayson to end up on your doorstep once again. Will he help or will he leave once again?

Your hands shook as you unlocked the door of your apartment. Your skin prickled as the fabric of your hoodie scraped against the sensitive skin of your arms. A desperate whimper escaped your lips at the way your very cells seemed to burn with the strength of a thousand suns.

Somehow you got your mind straight long enough to lock the door behind you before you stumbled towards your bedroom. You kicked off your shoes as you went and your hoodie soon followed. Fuck, it wasn’t enough. Everything was hot but at the same time, you felt sweaty and chilled like you had a fever.

Something was wrong.

Grabbing your phone, you fought against the blurring of your vision in order to locate the contact you needed. You knew she would pick up the phone in seconds because she was glued to her tech everyday.

“What’s up, babes?” Barbara answered after the first ring. “If you’re calling to reschedule brunch, I have terrible news for you. I won’t allow you to skip out aga-”

“Babs,” you rasped. “Something’s wrong.”

The cheery tone fell from the redhead’s voice in seconds and you heard her start typing on her keyboard. “Where are you?”

“Home. I was walking home from work when Ivy attacked the park and I think I inhaled some of the spores. I don’t…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Barbara swore under her breath. “The closest person to you is Nightwing.”

Your heart dropped. No. Not him. “Who else?”

“Everyone else is busy. I’m sorry, but I’m sending him.”

Your stomach cramped painfully, nearly knocking you to your knees, and you let out a groan. “Okay, okay. Fuck it. Fine.”

“We’re going to help you. I promise. I have to go handle something right now, but I’ll make sure I check on you.”

“Thanks, Babs.” Your breath escaped you in short pants, like a dog in heat. Fuck, it was hot in here. You wanted nothing more than to strip off your pants and shirt and lay on the cool tile of your bathroom, but you couldn’t. Not when he was coming over.

Richard Grayson, your ex boyfriend. Richard Grayson, the man who came over one night three months ago and broke up with you on your doorstep. Richard Grayson, the man you had loved for years until your heart shattered with a few words.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he had said. And then he dropped a box of your things on the doorstep and walked out of your life.

Fuck Dick Grayson. Fuck Nightwing. Fuck him and his pretty boy smile. He could go to hell.

“Shit.” As if the mere thought of your ex triggered it, you were suddenly acutely aware of the seam of your pants pressing against the sensitive flesh of your cunt. Shit shit shit, you cannot be horny in front of Dick Grayson. You just needed to keep a level and calm head until he gave you the antidote and then you could send him out on his ass.

Another wave of shaking wracked through your body and you let out a hiss of pain, doubling over until your face met the soft fabric of your comforter. Your body joined you on the mattress and you pulled yourself up until your cheek rested on the cool rayon fabric of the pillow. Curling your knees up towards your chest, you let the shakes consume you and prayed that Dick wasn’t so over you that he refused to come.

As though he heard your thoughts, you heard the window to your living room slide open. The slight screech of the old rubber sides sounded faster than normal and you figured he just wanted to get this over with.

The window shut and footsteps pounded towards the door to your bedroom. Your teeth chattered violently as you shook with this hellish hot/cold state your body had been thrust into. The shaking made it hard for you to lift your head, but you were able to make eye contact with the last man you wanted to see.

“Fuck,” Dick said in greeting. “Babs said Ivy got you, but she didn’t say it was this bad.”

You willed your jaw to stop rattling and shrugged. “Ran home so I didn’t pass out on the sidewalk or something.”

He stripped off his glove and pressed the back of his hand against your cheek. Shit. Oh fuck. Just the feel of his skin against yours was euphoric. A small mewl escaped you and your back arched in some desperate attempt to get closer to him. Dick ripped his hand away, a panicked look flitting across his masked face.

“Damnit Ivy,” he snarled.

“Am I dying?” It certainly felt like it. Your skin prickled painfully at the loss of contact and you tried to hold back the burn of tears that grew in your eyes.

“No, you’re not dying.” His hand drifted up to his ear where you knew a comms device rested. “Ivy hit her with sex pollen.”

A startled, albeit bitter, laugh escaped you and you shook your head. Of fucking course. Sex pollen meant you would have to wait for the antidote and get progressively hornier and in more pain. Or you could get off…

On autopilot, your hand drifted down to the waistband of your pants but the small part of your brain still in control screamed at you to stop. Tearing your hand away, you inhaled deeply and pressed your face further into the pillow. Not when he’s here.

“Just go get the antidote and I’ll suffer for a bit,” you snapped.

Dick barked out a sardonic laugh. “Do you really think I’m going to leave you like this?” Oh, the irony. If you weren’t burning up, you would laugh in his face and tell him to get the fuck out. All you could manage was glaring at him from your fetal position.

“I thought leaving was your specialty,” you hissed, venom lacing your tone. Your barb made a direct hit because his trained impassive face crumpled for a brief second. The cool drag of a tear along your cheek made you aware of the rising heat in your face and you brushed the tear away.

“Fuck you Richard Grayson. I know you don’t want to be here so you can go. I’ll just wait until someone can bring me the antidote.”

“You’re in pain,” he said barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, well, as if you care. I’ll just call Wally or Kaldur. Hell, I’ll call up Jason. I’m sure he won’t mind helping.”

“Stop,” he growled. “You won’t call anyone. I’m here. I’ll help you.”

Despite the aching weakness in your bones, you pushed up off the mattress so you could face him fully. Your arms trembled with exertion, but somehow you held yourself up.

“You left me. I don’t know what I did to make you hate me or whatever, but you left me and so you don’t have a right to be concerned. So do what you do best, Dick, and leave.” You were impressed by the way your voice stayed firm despite the tears streaming down your face. You were bracing yourself to see him walk out once more, leaving you in pain, both emotional and physical this time.

He turned away, showing you the kevlar spandex weave of his suit on full display. Just a few more steps and he would be out the window and out of your life again. Your breath caught in your throat, the pain surging through your veins. You whimpered and started to slowly lower yourself back down, but two strong hands settled on your shoulder and waist. Dick curled himself around you as if he could protect you from the fire licking at your insides. You shuddered at the firm pressure of his hands on you and in the moment of clarity, raised your chin to meet his gaze.

He had taken the mask off.

“It hurts,” you whispered.

His head lowered and he inhaled deeply before speaking once more. “I can’t, baby. You’re not thinking straight.”

Clasping your hands against his cheeks, you drew his head up and leveled him with a look. “Please, Dick. Make the pain go away.”

You had missed the taste of him. Dick’s hands drifted down to your hips as he slotted his lips against yours and pushed you back to lay against the bed. A gasp escaped you and he swallowed it with his tongue that pushed into your mouth. Everything was happening so quickly that it made your head spin in the best way possible. You shuddered as he unbuttoned your pants and slipped his long fingers under the band of your underwear.

“Oh,” you moaned as he brushed the rough pad of his finger along your slit. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the hollow of your throat before nipping at the soft skin of your jaw. Your legs closed instinctively as the toxin mixed with instinctive lust surged through your veins. Dick tutted and tugged at the hem of your shirt. You let him remove it and then he made quick work of your pants and underwear.

And then he stood up, unzipped his suit, and revealed the body you had dreamed about for nights.

Dick wasted no time in scooping you up and settling you between his legs, your back against his chest. One of his hands tugged your knee, pulling your legs apart, as the other drifted down to your soaked pussy.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he purred as you sagged against his chest. Dick nuzzled his nose against your temple as his fingers rubbed in lazy circles over your swollen cunt. Anytime your hips shifted, he made sure to keep you steadily locked in his hold.

“That feel good, baby?” he breathed. You nodded, too blissed out to speak, and he grinned that cocky smile you missed so much. Dick tipped your chin back and pulled you in for a filthy kiss, his tongue searching your mouth and leaving the lingering taste of his peppermint gum on your lips.

Your orgasm rocked through you faster than you expected thanks to the pollen flooding your veins. Legs trembling, you shook and thrashed against Dick as your cunt clenched around empty air. Dick held you tightly against him and continued his ministrations until you were whining about how it was-

“Too much. Ah! Dick, too much.”

“You’re still burning up, baby,” he murmured.

“I need your cock. I need you to fuck me again. I missed the feel of you in me, Dick.”

His tongue trailed along the sweaty line of your neck and your back arched off of his chest as he left along a cool trail. His slick soaked fingers drifted up to rub and pinch your nipples, alternating between both with equal devotion.

“Did you fuck anyone else?” he panted. “Tell me, baby. Did another man make you feel as good as I do?”

“No!” You needed him to fill you. You would combust if his long cock didn’t enter you in the next five seconds. You struggled against his grip in an attempt to flip yourself over and ride him, but Dick was too strong.

“No,” you gasped. “I touched myself and thought of you. No other man could satisfy me.”

As though you were a delicate package, he cradled your head as he slid you down onto the mattress and slotted himself between your spread thighs.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, princess.”

Any retort left you as your mouth dropped open. Three months without him had made you forget how fully he consumed you. Your folds parted as he split you open with his shaft, whimpers and pants escaping him as he slowly and surely slid into your waiting body. He hefted your legs up and you wrapped them around his waist as he finally bottomed out.

“I missed you,” he murmured.

You, your traitorous mind echoed. Not this. You.

No. This was just his way of helping you.

A throaty groan tore past your lips as he pulled out, the veins of his cock dragging against your walls, and then pushed back in. Your eyes rolled back as he brushed against your g-spot. He was more than just his name, not by much. Dick Grayson laid pipe like he was a union plumber going on forty-five years.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Grayson.”

He yanked his hips back and drilled into your cunt. You clawed at his back as he started to jackhammer into you. The fever was slowly abating as your second orgasm built. You lifted your hands to play with your own tits but he batted them away. Dick ducked his head down and enveloped your right nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking at the soft skin there. The constant stimulation adding to the electricity surging through your veins and you threw your head back. Dick let go of your breast with a soft pop and he stroked your cheek, dragging your attention back to him.

“Look at that, princess. Look at how well you take me,” he said. You nodded dumbly at his words and he forced your head up. Your gaze fixed on the way his cock slid in and out of you and, coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, had your second orgasm crashing over you like a wave.

“That’s it. There’s my good girl. You were made to take me. I missed fucking this pretty pussy. I. missed. you.” He punctuated the last three words with deep thrusts before he pulled out and let his cum streak along your tits. Dick’s chest heaved with exertion but he reached up and pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and then to your cheeks.

“How…how is it?” you asked.

He scooted back a bit and leaned forward so he was bracketing your hips. “You like doggy style, right?”

A pounding headache and a dry mouth was your morning gift. The warmth of the sun touched your cheeks gently and you relaxed when you realized you were no longer sweating buckets and burning up.

But a heavy, warm presence was still in your bed.

You slowly turned over to face Dick who was already awake. He reached up and checked your temperature again before offering you a wry smile. “Fever broke. You passed out around orgasm number six. I got you some water and snacks and you’ll need to take a shower. I can start the laundry once you’re in the shower. I’ll wait to leave until you’re feeling alright. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

Your heart ached at the tenderness of his words. This was the man who practically launched himself off the couch to get you a bandaid after you gave yourself a papercut while reading a book. This was the man who kept your favorite coffee and tea stocked at his place. This was the man who walked out on you and told you that he didn’t love you anymore.

“Dick…” Your soft voice stopped him from climbing out of the bed. He settled in next to you, the thin sheet pooling at his waist and revealing his well-muscled torso.

“I left because they put a hit on your head,” he said. Warm breath washed over your face and you shivered at the contact. His azure eyes searched your face before he continued.

“I couldn’t risk losing you. Permanently. I’ve buried too many people, baby, and I refuse to lose you until you’re old and gray.”

“No one knows I’m connected to Nightwing,” you whispered.

“No, but they know you were connected to Dick Grayson. There are a lot of people that aren’t happy about what I’ve been doing to help Bludhaven. I’ve made enemies and they knew exactly where to target.”

“But Nightwing stopped them, right?”

His full lips lifted at the corners, amused at your unfailing trust in him, and he nodded. “Destroyed their entire operation.”

“So there was no threat.”

His eyes softened and he reached up to touch your cheek. “Being with me puts you at risk. Always.”

“I never felt as safe as I did with you. Last night, you helped me because you would never let anything hurt me. Right? You’ll never let anyone hurt me.”

He moved in close and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut as his lips drifted down to lay a kiss to each eyelid, cheek, your nose, chin, and finally landing on your lips. This wasn’t the rushed, burning kisses from the night before.

This was soft and gentle and, underneath the veneer of sweetness, it was an apology.

“I’ll go get the shower started so it’s warm,” he murmured once he pulled away. “And I’ll cook breakfast while you’re getting clean.”

“And we’ll talk?”

He smiled. Not the fake media smile he perfected years ago. Not the confident, cocky grin he gave his teammates. It was the smile only you saw. The soft, tender curve of his lips as his vulnerability shone through.

“Yeah.” His fingers interlaced with yours. “We’ll talk.”

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @bunny-kawa​ @khaylin27​

[miryum]

"Pilot"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Richard Grayson was surveying his detectives, assessing whether or not they were ready.

Cassandra Cain was glaring at her computer, angrily typing away. Dick had to get someone to fix her computer a week ago and he really didn’t want a repeat. But, seeing as she had yet to punch a hole through the screen, Dick was satisfied. Status: Ready.

Stephanie Brown was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she lathered peanut butter onto some bread. Dick couldn’t see the beginning of a toaster fire, so he moved onto his next detective. Status: Ready.

Timothy Drake’s eyes never left his computer as he chugged his fourth cup of coffee. Dick made a mental note to cut him off. Luckily, Tim had gotten a full four hours of sleep last night, so he shouldn’t pass out. Status: Ready.

Damian al Ghul technically wasn’t part of the precinct, but he was a loose cannon nonetheless. From Damian’s phone, Dick could faintly hear the sound of a dog’s bark, and based on the slight upturn of the boy’s lips, Dick guessed that he was enamoured by animal videos. At least he wasn’t causing chaos. Yet. Status: Ready.

Jason Todd was finishing some reports Dick had assigned him, but his eyes kept flickering to the unfinished book on his desk. In the past, Dick had to confiscate books and lock them in his desk drawer to keep Jason focused on his work. Somehow, however, the boy had found a new book, or roped Cass into helping him steal it from Dick’s desk. For now, though, he was occupied with his work. Status: Ready.

And then there was one. Y/n L/n. Dick sighed heavily, preparing himself for the shenanigans she would surely have gotten herself into. Dick’s gaze swept to the desk opposite Jason’s but… Y/n was sitting in her seat, cataloguing evidence. Dick’s mouth fell open. It was a miracle! What did he do to deserve this?! And on today of all days! Dick was silently celebrating when Y/n’s phone chimed and she peeked at it, a grin instantly coming to her face. She slowly turned her head to meet Damian’s Cheshire smile from behind his phone screen. 

“Are you sure?” Y/n asked. Damian nodded. Dick whimpered, pleading to his gods that whatever they were planning would come to a halt. The new Captain was due any moment and he couldn’t risk things not going perfectly. “Terrific,” Y/n cackled. 

Gotham had been gloomy that day, as it always was, but the dark sky was instantly forgotten as the elevator door hissed open and out stepped Captain Wayne. He was greeted by Y/n blasting Hello - I just came to say Hello sung by Lady Aqua on her small, Bluetooth speaker.

“Hello!” Y/n called to the emerging Captain, “And welcome to the sixty-sixth precinct in Gotham! Or as I like to call it, one six away from Hell and the devil herself.” She sang along with the track, “I just came to say hello! Steph! Now!”

Stephanie threw her hand up and let pieces of confetti fall to the floor. “I’ll clean it up later!” she shouted to Dick over the music.

Dick cradled his face in his hands. Captain Wayne did not seem pleased. Dick sighed before plastering on his award-winning smile and striding up to his new Captain. “Captain Wayne. I’m Sergeant Grayson. It’s a pleasure to have you here with us.”

Captain Wayne held a hand up and Dick slowly closed his mouth, his unshaken hand dropping to his side. “I am your new commanding officer, Captain Bruce Wayne. Sergeant Grayson? A word.”

“Of course,” he nodded, following Captain Wayne into the man’s new office. Dick shot Y/n a warning glare just as the music changed to Classic by MKTO. She bopped her head song to the beat, giving her superior a thumbs-up.

Damian didn’t look up as Captain Wayne marched by. After the door clicked shut, the civilian administrator muttered, “anyone else get a gay vibe?”

Y/n slowly turned the music down until it was a hush in the background. She hummed along before stating, “he and I are gonna be besties!” Steph cringed and Jason huffed a laugh.

“Sergeant Grayson,” Captain Wayne stood stoically, gazing out at his new team. “We served together in the fifteenth. How have you been?”

“Good, good. My wife and I just had twin baby girls.” Dick pulled out his wallet to show a family photo with him and Kori cuddling two little girls and grinning at the camera. 

“Adorable,” Captain Wayne barely glanced at the picture. “Tell me about your detective squad.”

“Okay.” Dick turned to stare out the office window with his senior officer. “Damian is our civilian administrator. He… has opinions and can rudely say them at inappropriate times, but the few times he does his job, he’s incredibly good at it. He grew up with L/n and that’s mainly how he got the job. He’s putting himself through law school and is surprisingly top of his class.”

“Damian, I need you to catalogue these files for me,” Cass said.

Damian held up a finger, typing away on his phone.

“Damian,” Cass repeated. 

“Hold on. I need to send a scathing email to my professor.”

Cass hummed and said, “fair. Take your time.”

“Cass is tough, fair, and impossible to read. Her specialty is silence, both in the field and in the precinct.” Dick exhaled, nodding towards the woman’s desk. “She’s brilliant and somewhat terrifying, but we all know she loves us.”

“How long has she been sitting there?” Y/n whispered.

“It’s been eight minutes and thirty one seconds,” Tim said, fixated on his watch.

“Damn,” Steph murmured. “What’s her record?”

“Eleven minutes and fifteen seconds,” Y/n answered automatically. They were all carefully watching Cass who was scowling at the wall. 

“Alright, everyone!” Dick barged into the briefing room and the three detectives cried out in protest. “First order of-”

“Dick! Shut up!” Y/n shushed him. “You’re disturbing Cass! This could be a new record.”

“Wait wait!” Stephanie slapped Y/n’s arm. “She’s still in the zone!”

Y/n gasped. “You got lucky, Grayson.”

“Stephanie is our optimistic cinnamon roll.” Dick beamed and gestured to Steph who was faithfully sweeping up the confetti. “She’s super dedicated to her job and no one can stay mad at her. She’d do anything for this precinct, as we would her.”

“Hey, Tim? Tiiiiiiim… Timmy!” Steph tapped his desk. “That’s your eighth cup of coffee.”

“It’s decaf!” Tim protested.

“No, it’s not. I watched you make it.” Jason pipped up. 

“You’re not helping!” Tim glared across the bullpen. Steph clicked her tongue accusingly, pointing at Jason to help prove her point.

“Fine.” Tim dumped his coffee in the trash. Steph ruffled Tim’s hair before bouncing back to her desk. 

“Tim is a coffee addict. He may be the most academically gifted on the team, except when it comes to his sleep schedule. He’s dreamed about being a police officer his entire life and his face when he made detective… you should’ve seen him.” Dick chuckled, shaking his head.

After Steph walked away, Tim fished his coffee out of the trash and quickly chugged it. Jason frowned at him disapprovingly.

“Jason grew up on the streets. He had a… bad home life and was surrounded by gangs as a kid. He was sure he would end up behind bars instead of putting others behind them. An older officer, Alfred, picked him up off the streets. Jason pulled himself up from his bootstraps and is now here. Contrary to his large, tank-like frame, he's just a kid who loves Jane Austen.”

“There’s a perp running around,” Dick said in the briefing room. “Who keeps breaking into people’s houses and stealing oddly specific items. Certain books, a vase, even a pillow-”

“It's a crazy ex-girlfriend,” Jason called out. 

“What?”

“The owners of the apartments all just got out of a relationship. The ex is stealing things that were meaningful from the relationship,” Jason explained. “The timeline adds up too. The robberies had time in between them for a relationship to grow and foster- a year or two apart.”

“Like your sex life,” Y/n snickered, high-fiving Cass.

“And Detective L/n?”

Dick shook his head, smiling softly against his will. “Y/n is my best detective. She’s always wanted to be the good guy and solve the hardest challenges. The only challenge she hasn’t overcome is how to grow up.”

“Well put,” Wayne raised an eyebrow. 

“Thank you!” Dick mentally patted himself on the back. “I’ve spent a lot of therapy time talking about her. But you can’t tell her that. She already has a big ego.”

“Noted.”

“I’ll need a list of your employees and anyone who has a key-”

Crash! Bang-bang!

“Really?” Jason turned to Y/n who was messing with a mini electric keyboard. “What are you? Twelve?”

In response, Y/n hit a button and a fart noise filled the air. “And I’d like to apologise for my partner,” Jason rolled his eyes. “Her parents didn’t give her enough attention.”

Y/n loudly asked, “if I solve this case, can I get this for free?”

“If you solve this case, I’ll buy it for you,” Jason deadpanned. 

“Yay! We’re looking for a perp with a buzz cut (ew, by the way) and a dragon tattoo on his left forearm.” Y/n stuck her tongue out at Jason. The man just frowned in question. “I have a confidential informant.” Y/n’s voice turned low and menacing. “He spent years in this place, slowly losing his sense of self. Watching, learning, listening… WE HAD A SPY ON THE INSIDE! HERCULES MUFFIN MAN!” Y/n proudly held up a small, fuzzy teddy bear. “Did I forget to mention he’s a nanny cam?” She turned Hercules Muffin Man around to show a camera implanted into his head. Her phone showed a grainy video of a guy breaking into the electronic store. “Oops!” She stuck her bottom lip out in a pout. “Guess I get a piano for my desk.”

“You’re dismissed,” Wayne nodded to Dick who saluted. “Please ask Damian to join me.”

“Yes, boss?” A minute later, Damian stood in the doorway.

“Close the door behind you,” Wayne instructed. “Tell me about L/n.”

“Y/n? I’m assuming you’re inquiring about personal details because I’m sure Richard gave you the professional. Y/n’s in love with Jason.” He shrugged, staring at his new boss with a look that asked Is that what you wanted to know?

“Oh.” Wayne didn’t know what else to say other than, “Does he like her back?” He cleared his throat. 

“I don’t know,” Damian muttered. “I know my best friend, but I know shit about Jason.” Captain Wayne took a breath and excused Damian with a wave of his hand. He rubbed his temples, wondering what he had done to deserve the DA assigned him this precinct.

Bruce set up a photo of him and Clark as Rasputin blared on Y/n’s speakers.

[blooming-violets]

Hear me out :

Peter is jaded after Gwen, it’s before the events of NWH, and he’s slowly starting to fall in love with a woman he’s (literally) ran into at the library. She’s intellectual, kind, but is also a little jaded like Peter. Slowly, he has seen hope in her chestnut eyes. He is starting to see a future.

One night, Peter is listening to the police scanners and hears the code for an armed break-in, and it’s library girl’s apartment complex’s address.

He swallows, angry chills run up his spine as he hears her apartment number called out.

What does he do, Katie? How would he react?

I'm With You || TASM Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: stalking, sexual assault of a woman (being masturbated over by a man and touched w/o consent), nudity, crass language, gun usage, armed break-ins with the intent to harm a woman living alone, being tied and gagged against her will, violence from Peter/Spider-Man with a tiny bit of gore

It’s a damn cold night. 

Peter tugged his jacket close around his body as he jogged the last few remaining steps into the public library. His overdue books were hidden inside the satchel at his side. He was about a month late in returning them and the library was almost closed. He wanted to get them in before he forgot. If he waited another day, he would never remember to bring them back. 

As he rounded the corner, he tripped over someone’s outstretched legs. Being a man of his talents, he quickly corrected his fall to land effortlessly back on his feet with the elegance of a ballerina making a graceful leap. 

Quizzical eyes stared up at him. 

The woman on the floor was leaning with her back against the bookcase with an open book in her lap. She looked more annoyed at him for tripping over her instead of apologetic for having her legs across the aisle. 

“Watch where you’re going,” she grumbled. 

She lifted the book up to her face, blocking him back out. 

Peter let out a breathy laugh of disbelief at the audacity of this bitch. 

“Excuse me?” He said, agast. 

She peeked her eyes over the top of the book to stare him down, “Dude, get lost. I’m busy. Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“You tripped me!” He read the cover of the book she was reading. The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes. “Doing a bit of light reading, I see. First it’s tripping innocent strangers and next it’s world domination? Is that it?”

He caught the smallest of smiles tug at her lips hidden behind the book.  

A singular butterfly fluttered around inside his stomach at the sight. The feeling was enough to grab his attention. He quietly admired her. Legs still stretched out in front of her. Zero regard for the space she was taking up. He kind of liked it. She didn’t give a shit. 

Peter turned and left her to her book, not wanting to bother her further, and headed to the front desk to deal with his late fees.

A week had passed and he was back in the library. He had no real purpose for being there today other than he liked the smell of the books. They made him feel relaxed. He liked to walk down the aisles and let his fingers graze across each bump of their spines. Every book he touched, filled with another story, another world, hundreds of lives under the tips of his fingers. 

“Hey,” a feminine voice hissed from between a gap of books on the other side of the shelf. 

Those eyes. He blinked back at them, peering between the shelves, trying to place where he remembered them from. 

Then it hit him. 

Atomic bomb girl. 

“Can I borrow your height?” She whispered, keeping her voice low to be respectful to the people studying on the other side of the room. Unlike the last time he saw her, it was a Thursday afternoon and the library was full with students. 

Peter slipped into the next aisle. She pointed to the book she wanted on the top shelf, just out of her reach. He plucked it down for her and turned it over in his hands. Relativity: The Special and the General Theory by Albert Einstein.

She eyed him with an intensity he wasn’t used to, like she was seeing straight through his skin and into his soul. Her eyes were captivating. He wanted to get lost in them. 

“You’re the unbalanced, trippy guy, right?” She asked. 

Peter smiled. Last night he stood on one foot on top of the Empire State Building spire just to admire the view. He was more balanced than she would ever know. 

“You mean, am I the one you tripped? Yes.” He handed her over the book. “You’re into science, I see, atomic bomb girl?” 

“I’m into learning. Whatever form that may come in.” She took the book and tucked it under her arm. “Thanks, trippy.” 

“Peter,” he called after her as she spun around to walk away. “You can call me Peter!”

The library became his new home. He took every opportunity to attend in the hopes of bumping into her again. Some days were a success, other’s a failure, but he found himself wanting more. Every time she had a new book and every time he would find the same one to read after her. It wasn’t weird. He was just…trying to find quiet ways to relate to someone new.

So he told himself. 

Peter had forgotten how to talk to women after Gwen. It had been so long since he even attempted to date anyone.

“Are you stalking me?” She asked one evening when she walked into the room to find him sitting on his laptop at one of the tables. 

He glanced up and shrugged, “I was here first this time. Maybe you’re stalking me?”

She smiled and slid into the seat across from him, “I already have one stalker. I don’t need another. If you’re into me, you better just grow a pair, and ask me out now.” 

Peter grinned, “I’m…wait…okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up straighter, completely letting the stalker comments fly over his head as he got flustered. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Right here. Right now. If you say ‘yes’ then it’s already starting.” He closed his laptop to give her his full attention. 

Her eyes widened and she settled happily back into her chair, “Alright, Peter, was it? Nice to meet you. This is an interesting choice of restaurant for a first date. Not what I would have chosen for our dinner and a movie night. I didn’t see a kitchen when I walked in but I chose to trust you.” 

“This is the finest establishment the borough has to offer,” he feigned a gasp. “Don’t you insult my choice of restaurant.” 

He raised a finger in the air, pretending to call over an imaginary waiter, “Hello, yes, I will take your finest bottle of wine for the table to start. The more expensive, the better. And I will take a big, giant steak for myself and, perhaps, a nice, small salad for the lovely lady?” He shot her a cheeky wink as she let out a laugh. 

“Fuck you,” she giggled.

Fucking him was exactly what she did. 

They continued their imaginary dinner date in the library until it closed, the librarian kicking them out and shooing them out the front door. They walked into the chilly night air, stopping at a bodega at the street corner to grab a few snacks, as they made their way to her place. 

He had slept with other women since Gwen passed but this time was different. There were feelings involved. Feelings that were still in their infancy. Ones that were just sparking to life. But they were there. He didn’t just want to fuck her and run. He wanted more than that. He wanted to stay. He wanted to grow and cultivate whatever path they were headed down. He wanted this to be something. 

He was ready to try dating again. 

She rolled over in the bed, naked and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, “That was amazing. You really know how to use that tongue of yours for more than just being a dick. I’m impressed.”

Peter chuckled, “Oh, please, your tongue was nothing to scoff at either.”

It really had been one of the best blow jobs of his life. 

He leaned on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and gazed happily down at her, “I want to take you on a real date. Saturday night. To an actual restaurant.”

She hesitated. A shadowed sadness darkened her eyes which she quickly pushed away, “Okay. I think I can do that.”

Peter frowned, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning over to kiss him as a distraction, “Nope. When you leave, can you leave through one of the side doors? Don’t walk out the front of the apartment.” 

That was his cue to leave, apparently. He chewed anxiously against his bottom lip. Maybe he was misreading whatever he thought was going on between them. Maybe she wanted a quick fuck and nothing more. Come to think of it, when they entered here, she had snuck them in the back door, too, making him walk a few feet behind her like they weren’t together.

Maybe she was in a relationship and cheating on her partner with him?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She offered, casually urging him to get out of the bed. “Text me. I stuck my contact in your phone earlier.”

Peter left feeling more confused and unsure than when he entered her place. 

He lifted his phone as he walked through the streets, searching the contracts until he found her under ❤️Atomic Bomb Girl❤️, and he smiled down at it. A heart. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe her front door was just broken. He always went straight to assuming the worst. 

Someone slammed into his shoulder, jostling him out of his thoughts, and he glanced behind him. A large, buff man glared back at him. He looked to be in his late fifties and was balding. His massive arms bulged under his tight fitting, worn down leather jacket. He reached out to clamp a hand down around Peter’s upper arm.

Peter frowned and tried to jerk away, “Dude, it was an accident, chill.” 

“Did you fuck that girl up there?” That man asked, nodding his head back to her apartment building. There was a crazed desperation in his voice. “I saw you following her home. Did she spread her legs for you and whore herself out? Did you get a good look at that tight, little pussy? Tell me, what did it look like? You take any pictures? I’ll pay you for them.”

Peter jerked his arm out of the man’s grasp, scowling in disgust, “What the fuck? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t following anyone. I was meeting a friend who lives there. Fuck off.” 

The man leaned forward and inhaled his scent causing Peter to jump back. 

“I can smell her on you,” he growled as his eyes rolled back into his head. “That’s her perfume. I know because I bought it for her. You were fucking her.” 

That was enough. 

Peter shoved the older man off of him and jogged around the corner, waiting until he was out of sight before throwing himself up onto her building roof, peering over the edge to keep an eye on him. 

He was just pacing back and forth outside the apartment door, mumbling to himself and fidgeting with something in his pocket. 

“Freak,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

He pulled up her contact and sent her a text: Some crazy old dude just ambushed me outside your place. Asked about you. Maybe don’t go outside tonight. I think he’s not right in the head.

He saw three bubbles appear as she started to text back but then they disappeared again, leaving him hanging. 

Peter shrugged it off. He stayed and kept watch until the man finally wandered off down the street.

The night before he was supposed to take her out on a date, Peter was laid over his bed in his Spider suit sans mask. His police scanner let out more static of nothing as he waited for something, anything, to happen. He was bored but it was too cold to hang around on a rooftop somewhere. He would stay in the warmth of his bedroom unless something exciting came his way. They had been texting back and forth nonstop for the last few days and calling each other every night to talk for hours. He liked it when she sent him pictures of things she was doing around her house during the day. She was adorable and he looked forward to whenever his phone would buzz. 

As if on cue, it vibrated across the mattress next to him. 

He lifted it up in a gloved hand to read the text. A frown settled over his face as he read it. 

Atomic Bomb Girl: ha ha ha i win u lose dontever touch wat is mine again 

Right as he was attempting to decipher what she was talking about, taking note of how drastic of a change of text from her usual ones it was, the police scanner lit to life.

“All available units to Linden Boulevard, Oak Ridge Apartments, floor three. Multiple calls of gunshots heard and one reported casualty of a security guard. Suspect is wearing dark clothes, caucasian older male, considered armed and dangerous. Approach with caution.”

His senses exploded in a panicked wave of tingles. That was her place. Her floor. The image of that strange man assaulting him on the street after he left came back to hit him like a ton of bricks. Peter looked back at his phone as the pieces fell into place. 

Oh, fuck. 

Quiet, controlled anger replaced the panic. His heart rate steadied as a calm chill fell over him. His jaw locked in determination. He reached for his mask, tugging it over his stone cold, deadly expression, and he leaped out of his open window. 

Peter Parker no longer fucked around when it came to protecting the one’s he cared about. This was personal. 

He arrived at the scene in record speed, landing directly on top of a black S.W.A.T truck as it pulled up. He rapped a fist down on the hood to get their attention.

“Feel free to sit this one out, boys!” He called down to them. “Spidey’s got you covered! I’ll be in and out in minutes. No need to worry. Focus on crowd control. I’ve got a date with a balding fucker. If all goes well, it’ll end up with a quickie in the back of a cop car, as I ride his ass straight to prison.” 

Peter threw himself up onto her building, scaling to the third floor and around to find her window. He knew exactly where he would find his perp. His masked face popped up in her bedroom window. It was empty and quiet. He slammed his fist through the glass, slipping his hand inside to find the lock, and shoved it open wide enough for him to shimmy through. 

From inside, he could hear muffled cries. Whimpers. They were different from the whimpers he had been able to elicit out of her the other night but he knew them all the same. 

Silent as a shadow, Peter crept around the corner. With her hands tied behind her back, her shirt ripped open so her bare chest was on display, and thrown against the couch was his girl. The gun man stood above her. A pistol was aimed directly at her forehead. From this angle, he couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but it looked as if the man was masturbating over her. Trails of mascara ran down her cheeks and she let out muffled cries against the heavy amounts of duct tape blocking her mouth as she struggled to break free. 

His anger flared but he tried to push it down to manable levels. He had learned over the years that getting too angry made him sloppy. He needed to control it. Work with it. Tame it into something he could use as a weapon instead of making it a weakness. 

Peter crawled up her wall and onto her ceiling, prowling towards the man. Up here, he had a clear view. His dick was out and he was frantically jerking it as fast as he could at her breasts. Her eyes widened in fear but then flashed with hope when caught sight of Spider-Man crawling across her ceiling. 

He hadn’t even done anything yet and he already felt pride. She felt a sense of safety around him…even if she didn’t know it was him behind the mask. It made him cocky. Made him want to show off. 

When he was directly behind him, he silently lowered himself upside on a web until his face was hung directly behind the assailant. 

“I’m actually surprised you can even get it up,” he quipped, keeping his voice light, despite the rage eating at his stomach. “I didn’t know something that small could get hard.”  

The man whipped around, his dick flopping against his leg, as he sputtered in shock. His pistol went off, firing aimless at the wall behind Peter’s head. 

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender as he jumped to his feet, “Whoa, there, tinycock! Don’t go blowing your load so soon! You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

There was no doubt this was the same man he had met outside the other day. His eyes were crazed with an unhinged, desperation that reeked of a man off his meds. Peter made sure to keep the man’s eyes on himself, holding his attention, instead of on her. 

“What’s a sad sap like you doing out of the psych ward? Were you a good boy and managed to snag yourself a day pass?” Peter clasped his hands together like he was excited for him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you used it to visit your daughter? Aww, that’s so sweet. Wait a minute.” He pretended to just now notice the man’s cock hanging out of his pants. It had gone soft and shrunken up like a scared little mouse. “Is she…not your daughter? But you’re so old. And she’s so young. I guess I don’t see any resemblance. She’s really pretty and you’ve got-” He motioned a hand around the man’s face. “-all that. Something tells me that there’s more going on here. Wanna tell your pal Spidey all about it?” 

The man was silent, blinking in a shocked awe at the masked hero, before finally snapping out of it. Spider-Man always excelled at talking his bad guys into circles with his stream of conscious babbling. The gun raised towards his head but, quicker than the man could even process, Peter had latched his hand around the barrel and crushed it in his grasp with the same ease as one might squish a can of soda after they finished drinking.

“Whoopies,” he joked. “Looks like your gun broke! I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you. It’ll explode right back into your face there. On second thought, maybe give it a go! It might improve what you’re working with!” 

The man faltered, looking confused and baffled down at his crushed gun. He clearly wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. That was okay. Peter didn’t need him to be intelligent. He just needed him to be unarmed. 

Which he now was. 

Peter grabbed him by the scruff of the collar and turned him around to face her, “Do you see that girl there?” The man’s eyes glazed over as he stared down at her exposed breasts. Peter quickly threw a hand over the man’s eyes to block them, manhandling him around like he wasn’t twice his size. “I take that back. Don’t see that girl there. Use your imagination. Remember her face. You know that girl? Yeah, that girl. The one you tied up and assaulted? The one sitting in front of us, scared out of her mind and traumatized. I want you to remember her. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, even think about her again, if she ever crosses your pathetically shriveled up mind, if you ever say her fucking name, speak about her, think about, look in her direction, or ever come near her again…” 

Peter dragged him over to the living room window where the slew of police were barricaded outside. He could hear the S.W.A.T crew moving up the stairwell now towards them and knew they only had a few more precious minutes of alone time. He shoved the man up to the window, raising his arm to force him to wave limply at all the cops down below. 

His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. Any playful, sarcastic essence it once held in the presence of his girl disappeared so only the man could hear him. 

“If you ever fucking touch her again,” he breathed. “I will toss you off of the Empire State Building and laugh through your entire fall down to your grizzly end.” 

With his hand still clutching the man’s collar, he jerked him back and smashed his face directly through the glass window. He heard her muffled scream of shock behind him but he knew she would be alright. 

A shard of glass stuck out of the man’s forehead, blood dripping down over his half closed eye, and Peter flicked it off down onto the street below. 

“That was for trying to taunt me over text,” he whispered in the dazed man’s ear. “I don’t play nice with men like you. Want to see what it would feel like falling to your death? Here’s a little preview so you’ll be sure to know exactly what you’ll be in for if you ever even think about my woman again.” 

Peter reeled back and tossed the man straight out of her window, head first, sending him down to the cops below. If he let his anger win, he would have never set a web straight after him, but she was watching and he didn’t want to be that person. She had gone through enough without having to see her Saturday night date murder a man in front of her.

The web latched onto his back at the final moments to break his fall. His legs may have crumpled against the ground…just a little bit…but he was alive. It was more than he deserved but the cops could deal with him now. 

Peter spun around to look back at her. She was quietly sobbing, muffled by her gag, but held a look of relief on her face. She brought her teary eyes up to meet his, or where she thought they would under the mask, and gave him a short nod of thanks. 

The S.W.A.T team was nearing her door. He could jump out the window and allow them to help her get free or…

She clung onto him, her head buried in his shoulder, as he soared them down the street and away from the commotion below. She cried softly. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the trauma or that fact that New York’s very own Spider-Man had just stolen her from her home but he kept a firm hold on her and kept whispering reassuring words in her ear. 

Eventually, he landed them on top of his own apartment building, setting her down gently onto her bottom. 

She gasped for breath, reaching up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “I always…wondered…what it would be like…to fly…” Her chest was heaving between each gasping word. “Turns out, it’s terrifying. Still, thank you, Peter. For saving me.” 

He shrugged, “It’s no problem. I was just doing my- hey, wait!”

She gave him a sneaky smile, still shivering and teary, but proud of herself for figuring it out.

“What?” She asked, innocently. “You think I wouldn’t know your voice? I’ve been listening to it for hours every night over the phone for the past few days.”

Peter reluctantly reached a hand up to pull off his mask, “You’re good.” 

Despite having already guessed his secret identity, she still looked surprised to actually see him without the mask on. He squatted down in front of her to seem less intimidating. 

“So that was your stalker, I take it?” He asked. 

She nodded, giving a sad sigh, “The one and only. He’s a joy, isn’t he?” 

He plopped onto his ass and crossed his legs, giving her a shrug, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again. I may have had some, ahem, choice words to encourage him to find new hobbies.”

She smiled again, blinking back her tears, “Thank you, Peter. Or, should I be calling you Spidey from now on?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Look, this is a big deal! You better not go running your mouth or else I’ll have to have some choice words with you, too.” 

He liked hearing the sound of her laugh, especially after everything she just went though, and he knew she would be okay. 

“I have a date with Spider-Man tomorrow,” she giggled. “How exciting.”

Peter chuckled, “The excitement wears off quickly, trust me.” 

She scooted closer to bring her mascara streaked face inches from his, “Somehow I doubt that.”

[talaok]

Chapter one: The perfect life

Pairing: No-outbreak!Joel x married!reader

Series summary: You moved to Austin Texas with your husband due to his job, but your already troubled marriage is about to get more complicated when the contractor remodeling your home, Joel Miller, will enter both of your lives.

Chapter summary: Moving to Austin was the right decision, but you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong.

warnings: hints to the reader's unhappy childhood, and a very short smut moment

Next chapter

New city, new home, new life.

You should have been happy, you really should have been, but the weight that had sat on your chest as you got on the plane had lingered.

You wanted this. You had to.

You had the perfect life.

A big house with an even bigger lawn, more money than you ever thought possible, and a loving husband.

A loving husband of two years, a loving husband who had to move to Texas for work, a loving husband who you followed across the country, leaving everything and everyone behind, because it's him, and you love him. 

Yes. You love him, just as he loves you.

You just needed time, time to adjust, and find a way to start new.

And Austin seemed as good a place as any.

It's warm and sunny here, and the city has an aura you had never quite encountered in any other place.

It's different from New York, yes, but different is good, different means change, and you needed a change.

"I smell burnt"

"oh- shit" you hissed, your gaze finally dropping from the window and down towards the pan where bacon was frying.

You turned the stove off and opened the window, trying to get some of the smell out. 

"You ok?" 

You looked at Richard, his deep blue eyes, perfectly slicked-back hair, and the tailored suit hugging his body like a second skin made him look as if he had come straight out of a commercial.

He wasn't watching you anymore, his attention had moved to the coffee maker.

"yeah I'm fine, I'm just a little tired I guess"

"you should rest today," he said, pouring some coffee into a cup

"I will" you nodded, glancing at the pan "I should probably make more bacon"

"don't worry" he stopped you "I'll just eat something on the way"

"you sure?"

"Yeah" He took a sip from his mug and set down on a stool 

"So..." you walked to the opposite side of the kitchen counter to face him "Are you nervous?"

He raised his eyes from his phone to look at you.

"Why would I be? I'm the boss"

"yeah, but it's still your first day"

He shrugged "I just want to get it over with, today's only gonna be meetings and people introducing themselves, tomorrow's gonna be my actual first day"

"right," you offered him a small smile "And have you talked to Francis?"

"Yeah, he said he'll show me around today" 

He stood up to place the cup in the sink.

"and about the remodeling?"

"Right, yeah he gave me a number, I'll text it to you"

"great"

Silence fell, and with it, a spell seemed to turn you both to stone

He broke it first

"Right" he glanced at his watch "I better go"

"Right," you said, taking a step closer to him.

His lips were on and off of yours so quickly you wondered if you had imagined it.

"Have a great day" you managed, as he walked out of the room

"you too"

__ __ __

The shelves had finally started to come to life.

"Why do we have to bring all your books, it's a waste of time" you recalled Richard saying "It's not like you're gonna read all of them again"

It infuriated you how he didn't get it, how completely baffled he was by your decision.

Like hell you were leaving such an important part of you back home.

Some of the volumes filling the living room you've had since you were a child, some of these stories raised you when there was no one else bothering to do the job.

A small, unexpected smile pulled at your lips as your gaze fell to the last remaining book in the box.

'scary stories to tell in the dark'

You were only 12 years old when you read it. You had found it in the school library, and tempted by a bravado that didn't belong to you, you had picked it up and stuffed it in your bag, carrying it all the way home as if it were the most precious treasure ever known to man.

It had helped silence the screams down the hallway, but it also made it impossible for you to sleep for a whole week.

A quiet laugh climbed your throat as you remembered watching every shadow in your room mutate into a horrifying monster.

You had never given it back.

The barely-together copy in your hands was the same one you had held 22 years ago.

For some reason, out of all the books you've read, this one you held closer to your heart.

Perhaps it was the rebellion behind the act, or perhaps, it was the feeling that that book had given you, the courage, the proof that you could do it, that you were gonna come out the other end, the proof, at last, that monsters can be fought, and at times even defeated.

You sighed, as you settled the book onto the now overflowing shelf, taking a step back to admire the living room.

That's it.

Piece by piece, you were gonna make this your home.

The next hours passed in a frenzy and by the time only a box was left on the floor, it was two in the afternoon.

You had been so caught up with your work you had forgotten to eat.

And now that you realized... god if you weren't hungry.

It's just one more box though, you thought as you peeked at it.

Yeah, c'mon I can do this

Only the stuff for the coffee table remained, and as you took the first item-

Fuck.

The shattered lamp rested on the floor like paint on a Pollok.

Fuck me, man, that was expensive.

You cringed as you bent to try and pick up the sharp pieces, but of course, as a ringing sounded across the room, you gasped and lost your focus, cutting your finger on the glass.

A stinging pain shot through you and you winced loudly, stumbling backward while trying hard not to look at the blood.

This really wasn't the time to be fainting.

Your phone was still annoyingly ringing.

"What?" you picked up without bothering to look

"I'm sorry is this a bad time?" what sounded like a confused male's voice spoke through the phone.

"Richard?" you frowned as you realized it was an unknown number "I'm sorry who's this?"

"I'm Joel, Joel Miller, from the contracting company" he paused "Your husband gave me your number"

"oh" you breathed "I-I'm sorry, he didn't tell me"

"Ma'am if this is a bad time I can call you later"

"no, no please don't worry I just- Now it's fine"

"ok good, your husband has told me you want to do some remodeling?"

"Yeah, we have a big room on the second floor that's unutilized and I'd like to build up a wall and make it into two rooms, perhaps a guest bedroom and bathroom"

He hummed, considering your words "That shouldn't be a problem, I'd like to come to your house one of these days so I can see the space firsthand"

"Yeah sure" You nodded, wrapping a paper towel around your finger once you walked to the kitchen "Would tomorrow be alright?"

"Absolutely, how does 10:30 sound?"

"perfect" you smiled 

"Alright then, if you just give me your address we're gonna be all set"

"of course"

__ __ __

he didn't come home for dinner.

"I'll eat out with some of my colleagues"

That's all he said.

And before you knew it you were heating a frozen pizza in the oven, and watching the sun disappear on the horizon through the kitchen window.

It was good that he stayed out, that's what you kept repeating in your head.

It's good that he's already getting to know his colleagues, and it's good that he's already settling in, it's perfect.

It's what you should be doing.

And yes you would have liked to spend more time with him today, but there's still tomorrow, and the day after that... there's still the rest of your life, one day certainly won't make a difference.

And it's not like you didn't enjoy the quiet, it gave you time to think, to look around the bare walls and ponder what you should fill them with.

A painting there, a mirror there, photos there... it was all coming together in your head.

The house had started to look more like a home, your home.

It was 9 pm by the time you decided to go to bed, it was early for your standards, but you'd had a long day.

He wasn't home yet.

You didn't know what time it was when you heard the front door open, but you were still awake, having tossed and turned hoping to tire yourself out for what felt like an eternity.

"hey" you murmured, once he entered the bedroom

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep"

He only nodded, as he started undressing

"So how did it go?"

"well," he said "Everyone seems nice enough"

"I'm glad" you smiled, turning on your side to look at him better "I unboxed everything for the living room today"

"cool," he sighed, hanging his suit and walking into the bathroom.

You laid there, listening to the toilet flush and the sink being shut on and off.

He emerged from the door again and made his way into the bed.

"And the contracting guy called" you continued, as he made himself comfortable "He'll come by tomorrow"

"that's good" he breathed, turning the light off 

"I told him what we wanna do and he said it shouldn't be a problem"

"yeah?" he asked, as you felt him shuffle closer to you

"Yup, he said he's done stuff like that before and he just needs to-" Your words got lost in your throat once you felt his hand travel to your chest.

"Richard?" you murmured, while his mouth moved to your shoulder and slowly up your neck.

The smell of his two hundred dollars aftershave hit your nostrils immediately.

"mh?" he hummed, letting his hand sneak down to find your ass through your shorts.

"Richard... I'm tired" you whimpered

"C'mon baby, you don't have to do anything I'll do all the work"

His hands on you felt inexplicably wrong right at that moment.

"I just-" you tried to slowly shift away from his grip "I've unpacked all day, I don't feel like it"

He emitted an audible groan "Y/n it's been like a month since you've last felt like it"

Your mouth closed as quickly as it had opened.

It was the truth, you hadn't been in the mood for a while now. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know- maybe tomorrow..."

He sighed, pushing himself off of you

"Whatever"

A small gust of air sent a shiver up your spine as he got up.

"where are you going?" you asked, watching his shadow move around the room.

"I'll just watch some tv or something"

"oh- alright," your voice was so small you almost didn't sound like yourself.

He didn't seem to hear you as he closed the door behind him, casting a veil of darkness over the room.

Once again, you were alone.

You turned towards the window, the moon's soft glow split the ocean of blue in the sky, shily lighting the neighborhood.

You felt a knot in your stomach, a sudden urge to cry, but as you watched the wind glide through the leaves and trees and grass, you were able to breathe, breath with each gust, slowly willing your heart to stop racing and your eyes to dry.

There was nothing to cry about.

Everything was good, great, fantastic even.

You had the perfect life.

Everything you had ever dreamed of was right in your grasp.

You just needed time, and everything was gonna work itself out fine.

…

Next chapter

...

(if you’d like to be added to the taglist comment or text me)

[maxespurr]

While We're Alone

Warning: Smut (it's just fingering in the kitchen lol) ,18+ Only, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Natasha comes over to the Maximoff household to pick up Wanda and the boys. While Billy and Tommy get ready upstairs, Natasha is unable to keep her hands to herself and Wanda is unable to resist.

Set on Earth-838

Words: 1012

A/N: This fic features the same 838-WandNat from my other fic Disconnect but with less angst :) A holiday fic if you squint hard enough.

---

"Mom! Auntie Nat is here!"

Wanda turned around to face her boys who were preoccupied with squeezing the life out of Natasha, the sight bringing a smile to her face. "Natasha! Perfect timing. I just finished baking all the pies," she greeted while untying her apron and hanging it up. She eyed the older woman's outfit for the evening and involuntarily swallowed when she found Natasha handsome in a black blazer and white hoodie and tight denim jeans.

It was a killer combo that made Wanda weak.

Natasha noticed the way Wanda was staring at her and smirked. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't find Wanda's domestic look attractive. The brunette's hair was tight up in a messy bun with some strands fallen out of place while the sleeves of a familiarr red and black checkered flannel were rolled up to her elbows. "Three pies? You really outdid yourself," she commented while Wanda packed the pies into their own individual cardboard box.

"Well, the holiday gathering is going to be bigger than last year from what Dr. Richards told me." Wanda looked down at her pies proudly then turned to her boys. "Billy. Tommy. It's time to get ready."

"Okaaaaay," Billy answered obediently and headed to the foot of the stairs.

"Mom, can I bring my Switch to the party?" Tommy looked up at her with puppy eyes.

Wanda gave him a playful, light knock on the head before planting a kiss on his forehead. "No, but if you behave at the party, I can ask Dr. Richards if you and Billy can play in the VR room."

Tommy's eyes brightened and cheered with a loud 'whoo!' before dashing up the stairs after his brother.

Wanda chuckled then began placing all her pans into the sink to let them soak. She felt Natasha follow after her and could already feel the redhead had something up her sleeves.

"Need help with anything?" Natasha offered, nodding towards the pile of dishes. Wanda shook her head.

"I spent all afternoon baking. I'll worry about washing tomorrow. But you can help with something else," Wanda proposed as she pressed herself against Natasha, a hand slipping to gently grasp the back of the older woman's neck to guide her closer for a kiss. She could feel Natasha smirk against her lips as they kissed and shuddered when wandering hands settled on her hips.

"By the way, is that my flannel?"

This time it was Wanda's turn to smirk. "It's mine now. You left it here last time you were over. It's very comfortable so I don't have any plans on giving it back."

Natasha pulled away slightly and clicked her tongue. "Is that so?"

"It is so. I'm sure you don't have a problem with that since it's not the first time you've let me have your-- Natasha!" Wanda hissed when she realized Natasha unbuttoned her jeans with a hand already slipping beneath her underwear. She whimpered when she felt fingers already toying with her clit. "Don't...! The boys are upstairs, and I still need to get ready!" Wanda bit down on her lower lip when Natasha slid a finger inside of her, failing to stifle her moans.

Natasha hummed, clearly unbothered as she slipped another finger inside of Wanda, the latter gasping and one hand clutching at her jacket. "I guess I'll have to make this quick," she remarked then leaned into Wanda's ear to whisper. "Shouldn't take long since you were already soaked before I touched you. Were you expecting this?" Wanda whined in response, which Natasha took as a yes and found incredibly cute, making her want to ruin Wanda more.

Wanda's free hand gripped the kitchen counter tightly when she felt Natasha pumping her fingers even faster. She no longer had control of her body, with her lips parted and clear moans spilling out as Natasha drove her over the edge. It was when the spy's deft fingers pulled out of her to rub at her clit that Wanda finally came, shuddering violently against the older woman. Her hips twitched involuntarily when Natsha pulled out and felt another throb between her legs as she watched Natasha tasted her from her fingers. Both knew there was no time for another round, but Wanda relaxed against the other woman feeling spent but content.

"Next time, let me take you out for a weekend. Just the two of us. I'll take you out for dinner and we can explore the city," Natasha brought up suddenly, her clean hand affectionately combing through Wanda's hair. Wanda had never seen the former Avenger looked so nervous before. "I... want you to know I'm serious about you. You and the boys."

Wanda couldn't stop herself from smiling, her heart swelling with happiness. "Maybe for New Years?"

"But what about Billy and Tommy?"

"I'll ask Maria if they could celebrate at her place" she proposed. "It's been a while since the boys have played with Monica, so I'm sure they'd be excited to see her."

"You're sure?" Natasha asked again. Wanda chuckled in amusement and leaned in to kiss the spy's cheek.

"I'm sure. After all, I'm serious about you too, Natasha Romanoff."

Wanda managed to sneak off into her bedroom before her boys found her in her disheveled state. When she stood at the top of the stairs, Billy and Tommy were talking animatedly about what VR game they wanted to play later while Natasha cooly tucked her hands into the pockets of her blazer. Wanda was wearing the faux red wool coat that Natasha gifted her for her birthday this year, and she smiled when she saw Natasha's expression brightened at the fact she was wearing the coat.

Natasha offered to drive them. The boys eagerly helped carry the pies into her sports car. Once Wanda locked the front door, she saw the way Natasha adored Billy and Tommy and the way her boys looked up at her with equal adoration.

Wanda couldn't help but feel how lucky she was to have those three in her life.

---

A/N: Thank you for reading and happy holidays :)

[spidrzfall]

Bus ⤑ Peter Parker.

This fic is heavily inspired and taken after the Bluey Episode 'Bus' !! which is just the cutest episode in the whole show that i have the biggest inspiration for it hehe !! Enjoy you guys, Love A.

☆° Peter Parker x Male Reader

☆°• fluff!

°•▪︎ Fem readers DNI ♡♡

♧ warnings: none! !!♧

♡ NOTES: none !!

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The second (M/N) stepped out the door he could feel the nerves in his body consume him whole. His leg bounced up and down as he waited at the bus stop, trying to locate where the bus was and when it would arrive. For the past month and a half (M/N) has been taking the bus…more specifically the 4-11, usually at this time it was empty, with no passengers and if there were it would only be a few which was a miracle! Nevertheless (M/N) appreciated the idea that there weren't any passengers…especially because he had the biggest crush on the bus driver, Peter. 

As the bus pulled in at the same time as always causing (M/N) to stand up and walk up to the two front doors of the bus that hissed open as Peter announced, “Bus stopping! Doors opening!” As his eyes made contact with (M/N) a bright smile saw his usual passenger on the other side as he began to speak, “Mornin’ Passenger, where are you headed off to today?” Peter glanced at the man seeing him insert some coins into the slot of the bus before hurriedly making his way to one of the seats closest to the window in the 2nd row. “The Art Museum, Please!” (M/N) managed, his voice somewhat high pitched and quick feeling the familiar nerves hit him at once as he spoke to the brunette.

“Huh…okay?” Peter murmured to himself before grabbing one of the stick gears next to him and announcing that the doors would be shut close now as he hummed a small tune as he continued to drive. Unknowing to him about the nervous wreck that was (M/N) who occasionally glanced in Peter’s direction the air inside thick with awkwardness and clear silence the only sound coming from the city as Peter took note of the lack of traffic, “There isn’t much traffic today, so it should be a smooth drive to the Museum. That is unless something get’s in our way but I doubt that’s gonna happen, we shouldn’t take that long to get there” Peter broke the silence as he continued to drive, his eyes on the road as he spoke to the man behind him who replied shortly afterwards “Oh, That’s…great”

(M/N) would be lying if he said he didn’t wish that something would make the bus ride a smidge bit longer, sure he and Peter never talked and it was just a silly distant crush but he liked Peter regardless that even if they had to sit in silence the whole ride, (M/N) would enjoy it anyways. The bus taking it’s usual course as Peter made a stop towards on of the bus stops nearby, “Yeah, it’s most likely going to be a smooth trail from he…” Peter cut off as he opened the bus doors to let in passengers as he groaned softly, Richard and Gladys. “Oh no..” Peter murmured as he ran a hand through his face, a look of boredom and slight annoyance crawled its way to him seeing as Richard and Gladys slowly approach the buses entrance.

Peter didn’t know where to begin with Gladys and Richard, two old folk he had picked up roughly 4 different times in the 2 years he’s been working as a bus driver but even from those few interactions boy did they leave an impression on Peter. For two old people they were quite annoying, Richard was always up in everybodys business and everybodys lives concerned him which was sweet but highley overbearing especially when the older man always tried to take matters into his own hands. Gladys was almost the opposite, a very sweet woman but just as colorful as the older man. She was hard of hearing and would constantly not pay attention to almost anything anybody would tell her as well as being incredibly clumsy and unfiltered. 

“We’re on our way to bingo, darling” Gladys began as he opened up her coin purse grabbing a fist full and just chucking them at Peter’s feet a small chuckle escaping her lips “Awh, My coins…” She spoke her voice catching (M/N)’s attention. Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he set his foot down “Alright listen, you two. I do not want any trouble! I expect you two to be decent.” Pointing his finger as he glared at the two, Richard raising his voice as he had a smile on his face “I don’t know what you’re referring to, son.” before walking towards the seats of the bus his eyes making contact with (M/N)’s as he sat next to him “Hope you don’t mind if i take a seat here do you, son?” – “All yours” (M/N) replied as he scooted over seeing as how Gladys took a seat in the row in front of them.

“Where are you headed to, Love?” Richard asked as he turned to face the younger man. “Oh to the Art Museum” (M/N) replied as he saw Richard shake his head “You should take the 6-17 bus, It’ll take you there faster.” the older man suggested as he pointed to a nearby bus stop where the 6-17 usually stopped at before Gladys commented “No, Love. You’re thinking about the 8-10 bus” – “Oh you don’t know what you’re talking about!” Richard replied as he shook his head before his attention being retracted back to (M/N)’s. “Well actually I take this bus because…I’m secretly in love with the bus driver” (M/N) confessed as he whispered the last bit to Richard seeing the old mans eyes widen in surprise and interest as he ‘ooh’ed at (M/N)’s confession, “Really? He seems a bit dorky to me” Richard spoke as he adjusted his glasses catching a glimpse of Peter “Oh no, not for me.” (M/N) spoke, his voice only proving just how smitten he was over the other. “Isn’t that just wonderful, young love I say. You two could get married and have bus babies. I’ll let him know” Richard spoke as he stood up clearing wanting to make his way towards Peter only to be pulled back in by (M/N).

“No! I’m not ready to tell him! I’m not even sure if he knows me well or if he likes me back” (M/N) spoke clearly worried and slightly embarrassed. “This generation…you have to tell him you love him! We’re almost at your destination” Richard spoke as he adjusted himself back into the seat. “I know…I just- I need more time” (M/N) replied shyly as he rubbed his arm, Richard on the other hand had a look that he had a plan as he quickly nodded, “well if it’s time you need. We got you covered. Oh bus driver next stop, please!”

Peter glanced through the mirror as he heard the familiar stop bell ring as he raised a brow “The next stops a pasta shop, what happened to bingo?” Peter asked as he began to slow the bus down so they could reach the right stop. “Well what do you expect me’ missus to cook when I get home after bingo?” As Peter nodded taking that into consideration as he stopped the bus, opening the doors up for the older man. As he saw Richard go up to the sliding doors and staring at the shop before turning back around and into the bus “I forgot, I don’t have a missus” The man spoke as he went back to his spot next to (M/N). Peter rolling his eyes as he shut the doors shut once again and went back to driving towards the museum.

Only for a few minute second for the stop bell to ring again as Peter raised a brow yet again looking at the next stop. “The next stop is a dealership!” Peter spoke as he slowed the bus down again and as before Richard was to speak again “Well you expect me to show up to Bingo empty handed in a crummy bus?” Peter only shaking his head at the reply as he stopped the bus again, opening the doors once again as Richard made hos way towards them again…and once more not getting off and going back to his seat “I forgot I don’t know how to drive!” Peter just about had enough as he muttered out a soft curse from under his breath shutting the doors back up as he drove once again but not before scolding the passengers, “Passangers should only ding the bell if they intend to get off! Is that clear?”

“Tell him you love him!” Richard murmured to (M/N) as (M/N)’s eyes widned a sense of warmness coating his cheeks as he shook his head “No!” (M/N) practically yelled as Peter furrowed his brows “What do you mean no?” – “I mean yes! We understand!” 

The ride went by smoothly only for 3 seconds later for the same bell ringing again as he let out a frustrated groan “The next stop is a junkyard!” Peter expressed his patience slipping everytime he spoke. “I need to throw some things away!” Richard’s voice boomed as the bus instead of slowly stopping made a harsh stop as the doors opened “Theres the junkyard, get out and throw your junk away” Peter spoke as he stared at the older man and again Richard made his way to the doors only to turn back around “I didn’t bring any of it with me” 

“That is it! We are not making any more stops until the museum and than you could ALL get off!” Peter spoke frustrated as he shut the doors and started up the bus, speeding his way through the road. “You need to tell him now, honey. You’re almost out of time” Richard spoke to (M/N) as he saw the man hesitate shaking his head in confirmation he wasn’t going to. “Where’s Marmalade…” Gladys whispered in front of them which went unheard as (M/N) and Richard spoke. “I’ll just do it tomorrow” (M/N) spoke to Richard as he shook his head. “Oh no deary, Todays so much better than tomorrow.” – “Marmalade??” 

“Bus Stopping! There, Museum, now all of you out!” Peter spoke as the doors came open only for Gladys to speak up again “Where’s Marmalade?” (M/N) raising a brow as he looked at Richard “Who’s Marmalade?” – “Gladys pet tarantula” Richard replied as all 3 of the passengers looked at Peter who had a huge tarantula crawling in his shoulder as Peter screamed out trying to get it off, getting up and trying to shake it off him.

“There you are, Marmalade”

“Get it off!!” Peter screamed as he walked backwards only to fall off the bus and onto the pavement of the crosswalk. (M/N) watching the scene unfold as he stood up in concern as he shouted at Peter from the window “It’s right there!! Suck the poison out!!” As he was caught up on the scene from outside before his attention was drawn to the bus starting up as he turned to Richard who was looking at the scene from the window as well “Who’s driving?” 

“Gladys is driving”

“Oh okay…”

“GLADYS IS DRIVING?!” (M/N) shouted as his eyes widned turning to the front of the bus as he saw the shorter older women drive recklessly as he saw Peter follow right after shouting after the bus “Hey thats my bus!!” could be heard from outside as (M/N) turned to Richard. “DO SOMETHING!!” he spoke panicked as he saw the older man lie down “time for a grandad nap…” – “Richard!!”

(M/N) made his way towards the front of the bus as he slowly brought Glady away from the steering wheel, trying to lift her up “Cmon honey…give me the wheel” (M/N) spoke panicked and softly as he pried the women away only for the steering wheel to come off as he took it in his hands, Peter chasing them from behind yelling at (M/N) “Push the brakes!” as (M/N) scrambled with it trying to push the brakes only for them to not work “They don’t work!!” he screamed back “Pop the wheel back in place!!” Peter screamed as (M/N) quickly popped the steering wheel back into place as Peter threw himself at the open doors, stumbling into the floor of the bus as he groaned but quickly got up as he put a hand on the side of the drivers seat where (M/N) was sitting.

(M/N) took note of just how close Peter really was as he blushed softly, what a great time to be so close to your crush as (M/N) occasionally glanced at him “Hi…” he finally spoke as his voice “Hey” Peter replied back as he looked at (M/N) “How’s your day going?” The two exchanged a look as Peter finally spoke up “Pretty slow day.”

“Tell him!”

“Richard!”

“Tell me what?” Peter smirked as he looked at the slight redness in (M/N)’s face as he leaned in only slightly. “Nothing! I’ll uhm…tell you tomorrow.” (M/N) replied as he tried to take control over the steering wheel “Well there isn’t going to be a tomorrow! We’re going to hit that custard factory!!” Peter shouted as pointed straight ahead. The two exhanging a look as Peter grabbed the two older people in the back as they shouted in surprise before he leaped out the bus (M/N) following from behind. All 4 of them hitting the pavement below as Richard and Gladys laid on the ground groaning in the background a large crash sound most likely the bus hitting the factory as Peter and (M/N) landed besides each other the two relived that they didn’t die their hearts racing.

“We’re alive…” (M/N) spoke in disbelief as he panted. “I can’t believe it…” Peter murmured as he tried to breath. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you! I keep putting it off for tomorrow but now…i think i’m going to tell you” (M/N) spoke out of breath as he smiled, the adrenaline rush clearly getting to him “I want to get married and have your bus babies!” Peter looked up at the sky as he tried to process what he had just been told. “Oh.

“Richard, i did it! I told him!” (M/N) spoke as he walked up to the older man who was helping Gladys up from the ground “Oh i told you, son. Now go on and have your bus babies.” Richard laughed softly as he shooed (M/N) away. “Oh no. He’s already married to a giraffe.” 

And just like that (M/N) stood in the middle of the living room of his and husband’s shared home. Two children standing in front of him pretending to be old people. Their older son, Jose and their youngest daughter, Amelia dressed up and hunched over as if wanting to give the illusion they were much older than what they really were as the two faced their dad. “What?” Jose spoke imitating an older mans voice “We’ll see about that! C’mon Gladys!” Jose’s voice echoed in the room as he grabbed his little sisters hand and ran up to tackle Peter, rough housing with the man. A wide smile on (M/N)’s face as he saw their kids mess around with his husband who was getting ‘kissing’ a huge plush giraffe before getting tackled down by their son, his playful scream echoing in the room as he looked at (M/N) for ‘help’. “Babe!!” – “Kids!” 

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[itsgrimeytime]

Magnolia in May (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD) x Greene!f!reader Regency AU

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Song Inspiration (in honor of Speak Now Taylor's Version): Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Summary: Your town was small, not the smallest you knew, but anyone of high fortune was the gossip of the week. Predictably, Richard Grimes was a thing of whispers -rumors of a search for marriage among the grassy hills. You weren't one to buy into town gossip, but something about him... just seemed a little too intriguing.

TWS: mentioned infidelity, abandoning children, and rumors.

[[ A/N: Is a Southern accent accurate for this time period? No, no it is not. Do I care? No, no I do not. Pride and Prejudice vibes. You are the sister of Maggie and Beth, and the daughter of Hershel. For plot purposes, I've decided you're the oldest. I was twirling my hair and giggling at this soooooo... And yes it is a quote from The Princess and the Frog. Anyway, thanks for reading!! ]]

"Oh, please," Maggie laughed, "-a rich man? Here? Never."

You added in a shushed voice, as it was late in the night, "Last man I saw around here was Mr. Knightley, and I'd surely say he's much too old for my taste."

The giggles filled the candle-gleamed room, it was coated in a special shade of orange -almost like a sunset. You thought it'd be a nice painting were you to ever find the motivation to paint.

The rumor that had been spilled in the quiet of the night was a man with a vast fortune on the hunt for a wife -nothing was known about him. Just that he was rich and wife hunting was enough for some people. Most people.

"I heard he's quite handsome," Beth whispered -across the room in her single bed, while you and Maggie shared the double.

You quipped, "I supposed someone imaginary might be so."

The pillow that went flying across the room only allowed more giggles to surmise in the dim room -an aura of pure joy.

Beth, who was now smiling but still wished to be taken seriously, "I'm serious! Cassandra a few towns over said she saw him in his carriage."

"I'm not so sure you should be looking in carriages, Beth," Maggie retorted -laughter on the tip of her tongue.

"You two are despicable," hissed across the space, as yet another pillow flew toward the bed.

It was such a far-off idea, really. A visitor? Here? Really? Alexandria was a far too quiet town for anyone to even travel to. Everyone knew everyone and so a visitor would only be talked about rather than be approached; eyes across the road, everyone would be waiting for a mistake. For something to spread.

"If there is such a man," you spoke, leaning back against the bed after the giggles were silent and the candles extinguished, "-I'd say he's rather brave for it."

You woke up that morning to the birds chirping -bright and sing-songy. It was like an alarm to you, pleasant noises against the cold of the morning and you thought just for a second... Maybe you could sleep in just a few more moments.

"Girls! We must be up and ready," her voice echoed up the stairs -pointed and sort of squeaky, "-I have some grand news!"

Naturally, your Headmistress had halted those plans -always eager to instill proper behavior. It was her job, after all. Your father had hired her, shortly after your mother had passed -a sickness not even your father could fix. It was a difficult decision, but with three young daughters and no mother, you never really blamed him. In order to excel, you needed to be married, and to be married, you needed to be proper.

"If I could, I'd hold the house on my own. But, I'm getting older and I'm not what I used to be."

Your father was much looser on restrictions, and you and your sisters would've never gotten this far with your Headmistress Elisa, tragically. She was quite the bore.

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pulled yourself up -beautiful birds washed out by Ms. Elisa's fussing. Quickly brushing your hair back into something more presentable, you shook and woke both of your sisters, whispering that you'd stall until she came looking.

"Headmistress, Father-" you spoke, adjusting your dress (the one you'd hardly worn because it was terribly out of fashion) and stepping out into the open, "-good morning."

Your father was at the table, head flickering between a file laid at his fingertips -a patient, you assumed. He often took cases home that irked him or needed more thought than what he could do at the clinic. Drastically careful with the personal details, you really only learned of medical issues instead of the faces behind them. Your father was adamant in never went farther.

"Good morning, darling," Elisa smiled, a little frustration in the pull of her lips -probably at the noticeable lack at your sides, "-good to know someone listens to me."

And then she paused, eyes racking along the dress you'd chosen in a split second -as you knew she would.

"Oh, no no no-" she echoed, tsking as she pinched the fabric in her hands -eyes analyzing the fabric, "-this won't do, Dr. Greene, we need much better dresses for the girls-"

"Headmistress, I'm sure I could find something more fitting, I foolishly assumed this was just breakfast-"

"Better dresses?" he questioned, file laid closed by his hands, "Whatever for?"

That was when your sisters had joined, hair not perfect but much better than you thought it would be on the time limit. Their dresses were much the same, evidence of a lack of current fashion trends -you flinched at the Headmistress's gaze settling on it.

"Well, now that everyone is present," she spoke, tone clipped and posture impossibly straight, "-Alexandria is expecting rather prolific company."

Father straightened then, attentive to the prospect, "And who may this be? Would I know them?"

"You must-" her voice was almost dreamy at the prospect of such a lavish living, "-the man's rather well-known in Atlanta, rather, the family is. Rhee, darling."

Your father paused seeming to take in the information -like he was trying to remember if he'd known the name, or maybe specifically the person.

"But-" your Headmistress grinned, the most excited you'd ever seen her, "-there’s even more! The younger man of the Rhee name, he's close friends with the man who owns the large estate only a few miles off of here."

"It's safe to assume they'll both be around, then?" Beth asked with the shyness that reflected her age -she was rather doe-eyed.

It had always caused you to worry, your youngest sister out in the world. She was capable, really, just a smidgen naive, and such a beautiful girl can't afford to be naive.

Before the headmistress could answer, Father seemed to add some things together -the furrow on his brow prominent, "Wait, the man who owns the estate? You mean the one off the road around the Henleys?"

"The one with the lavish fountains, yes," Elisa answered, a bit disinterested in this turn of conversation.

"I know Mr. Grimes," he stated -a sort of empathy deeply seeded into his tone, "-and knowing him makes me certain he is not looking for a mistress. Not after the first one."

You pursed your brow, a bit confused by the wording, "Is the man a widow?"

Your father faltered, a bit of uncertainty flattening upon his lips, "Well, not quite, dear. He lost his wife, yes, but not the way you think."

"If you count 'running off with a soldier' losing her, you mean."

Father's face stiffened, "Miss Elisa, it's rather disrespectful to speak of a man's life that way."

"Just the truth, Hershel," she leaned in to you three -whispering the rest, "-I heard it was the man's own best friend."

"If you must know, I'd much rather tell you correctly. Mr. Grimes is a man I rightly respect," your father sighed, a bit of defeat on his tongue but you honestly couldn't say you weren't interested, "-She did run off with a soldier, General Walsh -I believe. And it was Mr. Grimes most trusted companion, a friend from youth from what I understand. Left him and the children about 2 years ago."

Maggie, who'd been silent until now, asked, "Children?"

"Yes," your father added, a little forlorn, "-he's to raise them himself. I find I empathize him."

"More reason for him to be on the look," your Headmistress tsked, "-who wouldn't want a maternal figure for their children? It'd be truly shameful."

You bit your tongue at the implication, heavy stares at your father, "I'm sure he has their best interests at heart, Headmistress. It's not right to assume a man's honor just on rumor alone."

"Not right, indeed," Father agreed, turning back to his file so slightly, "-if he is looking for a mistress, as you say he is, he'd be a wonderful suitor for you girls. So, I'm not very opposed."

And then the Headmistress was off again, fiddling with each sister's hair and pulling out old fabric for ribbons (she asked for new ones, and was met with the conundrum of dress or ribbons). She'd especially fussed over you, being the oldest of the group -she wished to have you married first. "The longer you wait, the harder it'll be, trust me, deary."

Needless to say, you were quite joyous that Headmistress had still sent you on your weekly visit to the shops.

It had intially started much like how this morning had -a wish for anyone to ask for your hand or even begin courting you. After that ended (only because any man in a ten mile radius was either not rich, happily married, or much too old), she'd requested you simply because you were the most trained.

Maggie was in a bit of a rebel streak, Headmistress surely feared any time she left the house without supervisor, and Beth? Well, she was rather well-composed but still naive. The first -and last- time she had gone, she'd spent much more than you'd probably spend in a month. Local men had swindled her and she hadn't even noticed.

You were a middle ground, already having your rebellious streak and fully knowing how to stand your ground.

That morning the market was busier than you expected, as you navigated through the stalls each one only smelling better. Your first stop was always fruit, as the better stock would always be taken early you urged to get the best... reasonably.

The man who ran the stall was kind, had a wonderful smile and always remembered your name, you found you always remembered his : Mr. Elliotts.

He was old, and seemed to only really have the fruits to his name -he was rather fond of talking and had told you a lot. You knew much about the man, and dreaded the day he'd close up shop -you'd miss him if he did.

"Hello, miss," his voice was big and grand, tone ever-so-happy to see you, "-I've got quite the selection for you today. All your favorites."

"After my heart, Mr. Elliotts?"

He laughed, a jolly sort of laugh you would've expected Saint Nick to have when you were young, "Funny, don't let your father hear that one, eh? I've got all types of berries for you, specially grown."

"Oh, thank you," you said, grateful.

Mr. Elliotts was not a clean man, you knew that much, his facial hair was overgrown, and his face was always dusted in a healthy spatter of dirt. It had always just seemed more natural to you, than the other cleaner stalls decorating the square. You knew very well you were often the only customer of his, just because he looked like he'd gotten the fruits himself.

"No problem," he grinned -big and toothy.

Once the conversation had settled, you'd ordered your berries with a sense of ease -merely pointing gently at the types just in case he couldn't hear you. You were comfortable with him and were rather fond of his presence. So even after packing away the fruit you'd bought into your basket, you still stayed near.

After the first few stories though, there was something odd.

On your arm, the basket rested -poised prettily, properly. It felt like a familiar weight at this point -used to the trips that you'd become rather excited about. But what wasn't was the slight tug on your dress -you'd barely noticed it, merely feeling like a gust of wind.

On instinct, though, your head turned to check it -eager to keep your dresses in good condition so your Headmistress wouldn't lose her head. And when you had, you'd met an unfamiliar face.

It was a little girl, her hand cinched on your dress and pulling on the fabric -intent on getting your attention. She was blond, a mess of curls gracing her head only alluding to what she had been up to earlier that day -you couldn't help but smile at her.

"Well, hello, little one," you hummed, crouching down to her side and looking around for anyone that had been looking for her, "-where are your parents?"

The little girl didn't speak, as you thought she might know a few, only leveling with your basket -brown eyes heavily focused on the fruit within. You pursed your lips, watching her as her little tiny hand extended toward you -open and shutting her fingers in a grabbing gesture.

You smiled, still flickering in the crowd for anyone with that familiar worry, "You want one?"

Still crouching down, you fished into your basket -grabbing one that she could hold and gently placing it in her palm. Her grin was a little toothy, as she with ease ate the blueberry -dribbles of the vivid blue making a mess along her mouth.

And then, a voice with an unfamiliar accent spoke about the crowd, "Judith? Where are ya? Have you seen a little toddler 'bout yay big little pink dress, blonde curls-"

Without so much as an extra thought, you gently grabbed her clean hand -keeping her close to your side. Your eyes wandered to match the voice of the man, guiding Judith back to her home. The market was a little too busy to go just on noise-

And then, you saw him.

A tall man with pushed-back brunette curls that were elegantly brushed behind his ears, and a pinch of worry in his eyebrows. He was currently turned to an older lady -crouched slightly to speak to her appropriately. You could see the brush of stubble across his jaw, and a hint of bright blue eyes.

You spared a thought, he's quite pretty. Before pushing it away, and trying to gather his attention, "Sir? Hello, excuse me-"

The man spun to your attention, blue eyes settled intently on you -a bit in shock. You immediately realized he was quite finely dressed for such an occasion, a neatly pressed white shirt and brown vest -a sort of detailed satin. Sleeves elegantly rolled up from the heat, he still looked starchly overdressed -you brushed at your dress insecurely. He seemed to start to say something-

"Dada," the girl, Judith, squealed -escaping your hand to run to him.

The man stalled for a second, eyes still set on you -before seeming to shake his head back into shape. He crouched down to match her enthusiasm, arms open wide and grinning, "Jude, thank god."

Pulling the girl to his chest, he stood. Eyes uncertainly settling on you, but still with an expert air of gratefulness, "Thank you so much, you really don't know what you've done for me, Miss uh-"

"Greene," you answered, unused to such affection displayed by a father -you found it rather charming, "-Ms. Greene. And really there's no need, I'm glad to help. She's a sweetheart."

"No, no, really-" he spoke, still a little uncertain, "-Is there anything at all I could do for ya? You have no idea-" And then he paused, looking towards his daughter with a peculiar eye (the smudge of blue still prominent on her lips) and then your basket.

"Oh, right, sorry-" you apologized, straightening the basket on your arm with a sort of nervous fidget, "-I just bought them from a stall, Mr. Elliotts, she seemed to want one. I apologize if I overstepped-"

"Could I buy ya more?"

You stalled, "I... what?"

He paused, thinking over his own words, "Well, she ate one and I'd like to thank you-"

"Sir, she only ate one," you answered -smiling at the odd idea he'd explained, "-trust me, it won't be missed."

"I insist," he carefully spoke, Judith bouncing gently in his arms a passive sort of affection you found rather endearing.

You opened your mouth, rather unused to such forward generosity -especially for something so simple as what you had done, "Well, it wouldn't-"

And then, as if the world had heard the offer (and hated you), the church bell rang -a sort of melodic noise that brushed over the center. You usually enjoyed it, keen on the tone that settled over your skin, but this time, you didn't.

"Oh, is that the bell?!" you stopped yourself, frantically looking up at the swinging golden symbol, "-I'm so sorry, I'm going to be late for breakfast. Perhaps next time?"

"'Course," he responded -the low rasp of his voice sounded quite melodic itself, you noted, "-'til I see you again. Enjoy your breakfast."

"Right, yes-" you shook yourself out of your stupor, and you think you heard him laugh, "-you and Judith enjoy your day as well, okay?"

"We will," he said -a semblance of a grin brushing across his face, you turned a bit crimson at it. All perfectly white teeth and dashing charm, "-Goodbye, Ms. Greene."

That was the last you heard, as you hurried across the courtyard -not very eager to listen to your Headmistress screech about timeliness and its importance to a proper woman. You'd imagine she'd nearly die if she could see you running through the courtyard now, actually.

You thought, just for a spare second, it might be worth it.

[ricardian-werewolf]

Take Me to War.

Chapter 1: If not to heaven, then Hand in Hand to hell.

Gwayne Hightower X Original Female Character. (slow burn, Medieval perceptions of marriage and womanhood)

Sunne in Splendour x House of the Dragon.

Word count: 3.48k words.

AN| This is the first time the author has written for Gwayne Hightower, so please be kind! The author also only has a surface level knowledge of House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones, so please be courteous when making comments or suggestions. The Author is a history student with a special interest in the Wars of the Roses and Ricardian sources, so knowledge of that period will be largely correct.

Summary:

Reeling from the battle of Bosworth Field, fifteen year old Cecily-Anne is a princess without her throne, family, or hope. Forced to play her hand with both hands tied; a seemingly mystical intercession forces her into a world that is shockingly similar to the England she knows, yet also drastically different. It is there as a mere lady in waiting, that she is forced to pick a side in a war that has been played over in her England for decades. It remains to see as to whom will come out from this "Dance of Dragons," unscathed and whole.

Tws: Brutal violence, implied sexual violence, sexism of the medieval period, religious mention, brutality.

Taglist: @lordbettany, @rmelster, @portiaadams, @mihrsuri

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Blood flecked Cecily-Anne’s face, her skirts and hands. She stared down at her palms, running them together as if she wished to clear the mess. Raising her head, she could only stare in wide-eyed horror as Henry Tudor’s sword drove its tip into her father’s chest. The crunch caused her to flinch visibly. No one had bothered to remove her from the camp, to put her into sanctuary. All of the chaos of the battle had left her here. She was supposed to have only observed the preliminary actions and then been swiftly retired to the nearby Grayfriars priory in Leicester. 

But now she stood at the hands of the most likely man next to kill her.

Or wed her. He could wait, for certes. She was only ten-and-five years, not even yet showing signs of womanhood. But to a country teetering blindly towards anarchy, this was the only movement forward to solve so many problems. However, as she shifted uneasily from foot to foot. With her skirts turning soiled with the still-warm blood of her father, Cecily remembered Elizabeth Woodeville’s many daughters. Maybe he would choose one of them, and leave her well enough alone. Maybe clemency would work with this…. Bastard of a prince?

She would refuse to bend her knees and acknowledge him as the god-chosen king. No. The rite of the crown would go to Teddy. Or passing him, Meg. She would need to make arrangements, seek out Johnny and Kathryn. They would need to know of Richard’s death.

Suddenly, a hand clenched around her upper arm and she shrieked, blindly lashing out. 

“My lady, please!” A voice hissed. Female, french sounding. Véronique de Crécy. Cecily looked up into the lady-servant’s face and caught the tears forming on her lashes. “Do not cry out. You have been granted the right of sanctuary with the nearby nunnery. They are doing this out of the mercy of your womanhood, Chérie.”

“Mercy?” Cecily hissed as Véronique dragged her from the battlefield. She could only watch silently with doe-wide eyes as her father’s corpse was stripped to the flesh. Then, it was dumped over the back of a steed. “No-” She began to scream, thrashing in her mother’s servant's arms. Another hand clamped over her lips, silencing her.

“Do not make a sound, Princess. Keep very, very quiet.” Francis Lovell hissed. “It is horrific, yes, but this is what Tudor dictates, and we must bend the knee or be slaughtered.” He effortlessly dragged her through the leagues of white-tented campsites to a waiting horse and litter. Mistress Burgh, who had tended to her since infancy, examined her skirts silently. 

“By the holy mother-” She began, then looked into Cecily-Anne’s whitened face. “Come, lovely. We must be getting you home.” 

“My F-father-” Cecily jerked her head up as she watched the white rose being put to the torch. Suddenly, the fight drained from her and she fell to her knees, the veil of her hennin swimming about her face like gossamer wings. “No, please, No!” She sobbed, wrenching off her hennin and veil with a firm tug. Her hair fell from its pins, spilling about her face.

“What is the meaning of this?” A voice sneered. “I find it most…” Cecily looked up into the face of a man who she would forever remember. Standing over her, clad in plate armour of pure silver with work of ferns and ivy was Thomas Builder, retitled Thomas Melbourne. A minor lord, he had backed her father until the end, and then revealed his hand when Tudor had taken the advantage. His eyes gleamed like emeralds in the watery sunlight shimmering overhead, and he bent down to lift her chin. 

“Unfaithful to your late Father, Princess.” His voice was velvety, meant to be soothing. But it merely made Cecily more vicious, more angered. She whacked his hand aside and bared her teeth. She raised her hand, and formed a fist. Her father’s knights who had served him now formed a Testudo around her. 

“Ah, princess.” Melbourne sneered again. “These men are traitors. They ought not rush to thy defence.”

“They shall.” Cecily rose on unsteadily feet, but squared her shoulders. The moment of grief within her was pushed down deep inside her, and she shut it away. She would not allow herself to show how much she hurt. He would not see how much she longed to lie down in the blood-splattered grass where her father had fallen, and implore God and his saints to take her too.

Please, Holy Mother, protect me from this man’s aims and evils. She prayed silently, her fingers sliding to the crucifix around her neck. Suddenly, she gasped as Melbourne parted the Testudo around her, ignoring the pike-axes grazing his cheeks. His hand snaked up and grasped hers. His eyes blazed with pure hate, and he grabbed the crucifix in hand. It did not burn him, which Cecily hoped it would. She could only sob as Melbourne yanked the chain forward, dragging Cecily along with it. She was pulled from the safety of her knights and thrown roughly to the ground. 

Around her, a cheering and jeering group of Tudors’s soldiers had gathered. At their head was Margaret Beaufort, clad in mourner’s black. Briefly, Cecily was reminded of her mother’s poisoned words against the mother of Tudor. She flashed her teeth again, snatching out a hand to grab something. But her hand was pinned under the black-metal foot of Count Adhemar’s boot.

“There she is.” He crowed as Tudor pushed through his men and raised his visor to regard her. “What a wonderful wife she would make for you, Your grace.”

“You deem him your king?!” Cecily snarled, crying out as Melbourne grabbed her hair and pulled her head back with a sickening crack. Looking up at him from below, Cecily was able to see his lengthened canines, and she shuddered in horror. It seemed as though not only was Tudor ungodly in his mortal affairs, he consorted with demons to win him victories.

She crossed herself, murmuring the lord’s prayer under her breath.

“She should be killed, Henry.” Margaret cried. “If she is not, she is a threat to your legitimacy. Any son she bears and the blood of the Yorks remains stronger than ever.” 

“There is still the matter of those two boys. Tell me-” Tudor turned now to Cecily, and stepped over her so that his legs were on either side of her hips. She looked up at him even though she couldn’t look him in the eye. Her breaths came in heavy, rapid gasps as Tudor grabbed her by the chin and lifted her head.

“Did your father kill the princes, girl?”

“No!” Cecily cried instantly.

The smack of his ringed hand to her face made Cecily cry out again. Around her, even some of Tudor’s knights were making murmurs of discontent. No one struck a princess, or made a movement against her. Yet, Cecily knew easily how vulnerable she was. With no strong woman such as her grandmother to speak in her defence, she was powerless. Véronique’s words were as good as naught.

“Then where did he put them?”

“I have no knowledge of where-” Cecily sobbed again as Tudor rained down another blow. She was saved a third as Margaret’s hand reached out and pulled Henry’s fist back. “Please, no. Do not taint your victory with such sin. God will find it distasteful.” 

Please, Holy Mother, protect me from this man’s aims and evils. 

Tudor glared at his mother and then Cecily. His thumb stroked her thrumming pulse point, and then he spat in her face. “Be glad that my lady mother raised me to be merciful. If I was not, I ought to put you in your place as you deserve, wench.”

Cecily shuddered. 

She watched with widened, fear-filled eyes as Tudor’s men departed with their king at the head. Atop Tudor’s head was the crown of King Edward, the very crown that had been affixed to her father’s helmet. A sob burned through her lungs and she pressed her knuckles to her streaming eyes. Wrapped in the spanish silks she had been gifted as part of her engagement to Joanna of Portugal’s younger cousin, Cecily-Anne Isabel Plantagenet knew that without a doubt that she was a marked woman.

As she was helped into the litter by Véronique, Cecily watched as Tudor’s men took down the White Rose of York. Her breath hitched as the Whyte Boar of Gloucester was unpinned from her father’s command tent. His squires who’d survived the battle were lined up in order of age. She watched with wide eyes devoid of all emotion as a barber surgeon and priest went about taking confession. Then, they were beheaded in front of the spot where her father had taken mass just that morn.

The battle of Redmore Plain had lasted a scant few hours, but the impact would fester for weeks. As the wheels of the litter began to turn and Cecily’s few knights fell into step beside the litter, the princess pressed a hand to her mouth and wept without shame. She clung weakly to her mother’s crucifix and the ring on her finger that had been the coronation ring of her father’s. Tudor would forge another ring, another crown; another state.

All of the work her father had done would be ashes and cinders. The North would not go quietly, which brought her some level of comfort. But their refusal to bend the knee would bite them soon enough. Sin had come over England with the miasma of plague, and it would stay thus until either the Tudors were ousted, murdered or ran out of heirs.

Pressing her hand over her eyes again, Cecily sighed deeply. 

“Write to Manuel and please inform him that the wedding is…” She waved a hand in front of her face. “Annulled. Ensure the Church knows also. I am certain they will be flooded with requests of dispensations for Tudor and whomever he chooses as his lady wife.” She looked to Véronique, who gave a quiet nod of acknowledgement.

“And you, cherie?”

“I believe I shall take a night in that nunnery you inquired for me. In the morn, we shall see where I am going. Whether it be the Tower Greene or the wilds of Bruges, I shall be excited to know.” swirling the cup of wine handed to her, Cecily drank deeply. Grief and shock had made her caustic. She would not wish to be anything other than that. As she drank more, she turned to debating in her mind how she would subvert Tudor’s wills for her execution. 

She should be killed, Henry.

She is a threat to the crown!

Was that same thing not spoken of about her Aunt Elizabeth? The very woman who had seduced her uncle to the bedchamber and made him a father to several children of health and vigour? Had that not been said of her own mother, whose wealth of lands in the north along with Aunt Isabelle set up a bloodless war between her father and mad uncle George? Had the women not birthed two sickly children for both sets of parents? Had fate not delivered her brother to God’s embrace far sooner than expected? Then a scant half-year later her own mother? 

Cecily smacked her hand against the wooden screen, and screamed low in her throat. She was well and truly alone, left to shoulder the burdens of a crown cracking more with each passing hour. The lords of London would throw the gates wide to the invaders, burn Crosby Place and Baynard’s to the ground. She would be bereft of a husband to-be, left to rot in a Court that would not place her in a position of honour. She would have to bend the knee to play favour, but her actions a few hours earlier would drive that thought from Tudor’s mind with the swiftness of a spring breeze.

Compline found Cecily-Anne kneeling before the altar of the Blessed Virgin Mary, her mother’s crucifix chain in her fingers. She had always found solace in prayer, not for the religious aspects, but the simple acts of running her fingers through the beads. The easy recitation of her prayers and catechisms soothed her. She always had a list in her mind of who to implore on behalf of the Father for His favour - the poor, sickly, needy. Her family members who suffered more than most came second. As part of her selfless devotion that some saw as frenetic, while others viewed it as a sign of true humility, Cecily wore a long veil and forgoed a prayer kneeler. Her heavy skirts of velvet and stiffened brocade did well enough. The order of Augustinian Canonesses had taken kindly to the young princess and put her at once into sanctuary. As an order of 1337 nuns confined to the limits of the priory’s property, they were over-delighted to have a guest. After supping in her rooms, Cecily had gone with the younger initiates to pray Compline before retiring. 

As she turned her face upwards to Mary’s figure with her arms spread out in a gesture of welcome and warmth, Cecily prayed to one woman only.

Her lady mother.

“Maman, I implore you. Please, let me know that I am not in vain to ask for you. Let me know that my pain is not all I shall feel. T-there is no way forward for me that I see. You always spoke to anyone who asked that I could solve my way out of any problem the Lord put before me, and now I find myself without.” Tears dripped down her face and she angrily shook her head, slamming her fist into the floor. The nuns who prayed quietly behind her stilled in their prayers at the sound of her fist. 

Cecily shot them a look and made the sign of the cross without breaking eye contact. Her devotion would be unshakable. The chapel at Middleham bore marks of her nails in the soft stone as she had poured out her grief in the days after Ned’s death. Now, she drew her nails once more down the expanse of stone. One scratch for her mother, one for her father, and another for Ned. 

“Please, Maman. I beg of you, do something. I cannot live in an England that is without the security of your light, of Father’s judgement. I can only implore the Lord for why he chooses to test me.” She bowed her head again. “I beg that Father is at peace, for some knowledge that he is safe, that he is happy to be reunited with you and Ned again. Please, do not worry for me. I am as well as I can be.” She wiped a tear from her eyes. Yet, they seemed to not stop, even as she forced herself desperately to not cry in the Lord’s house.

“Child…” The Mother Superior murmured. Cecily jerked her head away. She hated to be touched, to be perceived. She brought her hand up, to quieten the woman. The blood froze in her veins suddenly as the Mother Superior grabbed her hand, and then she heard a harsh voice that was her mother’s hiss; Open your eyes!

Cecily’s eyes flew open, and she recoiled. For where the statue of Mary had stood was now a cut. A cut in the space of the room, that through it showed… another space - a field with trees in the distance. It was unheard of. No miracle such as this had ever been written of in a canonical history or court romance. Cecily’s head jerked up and she looked at the Mother Superior. 

“D-do you see that?”

“Yes.” The Mother breathed, her hands clammy around Cecily’s. Her skin itched painfully and longed to tug her hand free. Yet Cecily stayed in that woman’s grasp as the Mother pulled herself up from a kneeling position. Cecily’s fingers instinctively closed tight around the crucifix chain and she ran it over her lips. 

“Speak to me again, Maman.” She whispered, her lips barely moving.

Go forward. The cut will not hurt you, child.

Cecily shuffled forward, her skirts swishing as she moved. Her skirts, the ones still caked with her father’s blood. The deep blue was stained a runny wine-dark purple and caked in a scent so foul that the other nearby nuns had their noses pinched. In the flickering candlelight, they looked like demons sent from the very brimstone and fires of Hell she feared. Somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Cecily was half conscious of the fact that her mother never called her “Child.” Yet, the grief of so much loss…. Made her feel the exhaustion within her more sharply.

Crossing the nave before the altar, she stared up at the cut with widened eyes, and reached a hand out to touch it. Instead of the pain of burning or the cold of snow on a winter’s night, she felt merely warmth. Through the ugly gash, she could see waving grasses in a stiff breeze, and squinting, making out the forms of men waiting amongst the trees. Some of them were on horses, and she wondered if they could see her. What a shock they’d get! 

The cut will not hurt you, child. She remembered her mother’s words spoken just moments before, and looked back at the nuns. They had gathered together in a small grouping at the back of the chapel, and amongst them she saw Véronique gripping Francis Lovell’s hand tight in hers. What stilled her suddenly was the expression on Véronique’s face - pure, unadulterated fear. 

Go! Go, and do not look back, child!

Cecily’s head turned to look back at the cut and she stared once more through it, her hand still stretched out in front of her. The crucifix dangling from her hand caught the sunlight filtering through the trees, and she smelled the scent of freshly hay. Distantly, she felt as though she was back at Middleham, playing with Ned and Kathyrn and Johnny. Tears filled her eyes again and she closed them as her mind wandered. 

Yes, child. Step through. You are almost home. Just another step-

Cecily could feel the sunlight on her hands; her face, and she turned her palms upwards towards the light and warmth. Yet, suddenly, the sounds of screams filled the air. Looking down, Cecily’s face turned to horror as she stepped not on freshly cut grass but blood-stained earth. An earth-shattering roar split the air as she looked up to the sight of a dragon armed with a rider opening its maw wide. A column of liquid fire flowed from its gaping jaws and set the forest before it ablaze. The men under it, clad in deep green tunics with a silver tower were swiftly enveloped in the flames and a horrific screaming sound met her ears. Throwing her hands over her ears, Cecily turned back to look for the cut.

She found it gone. 

“MAMAN!” She screamed. “What is the meaning of this?!”

A test, child. You implored for my judgement.

“A TEST?!” Cecily shrieked. 

I am the holy mother, all who worship me are tested in some way or another at some point. This is yours. Take with it what you will.

The warmth she’d felt turned shockingly cold, and Cecily cringed back, fear filling her veins with cold sand. Around her, men screamed, crossed swords and brutally massacred one another. Stumbling blindly, she turned whatever way was quietest, and began to stumble across the battlefield that would later be called Raven’s Rock. As she reached what she hoped was a line of tents consisting of faces who would be willing to listen to her tale, something sharp and long embedded itself in her leg.

The ground tilted dangerously under her, and Cecily’s face smashed into a jagged rock. Atop the rock’s surface she felt soft lichen caress her cheek, and barely had time to fist the crucifix more tightly into her fingers. The next moment, the darkness of injury and exhaustion washed over her with the strength of a tide, and she was dragged into its swell.

Over her head, two soldiers bearing the same uniforms she’d seen earlier discussed what to do with this princess in a tongue she didn’t know. After a few moments more, a knight with ginger hair and emerald green eyes came to survey her chaining up. He took his helmet from a squire and left at once to take up arms against a foe who was merely his sister’s closest friend and the supposed former heir of the Iron Throne. The false Queen Rhaenyra had made war against Alicent Hightower’s chosen son and it was unto this war that Princess Cecily-Anne was dragged unwillingly into. A war that was set to shape a generation and dynasty had merely changed time and space, but the rules were the same - a woman’s place was not upon the battlefield. 

End of Chapter 1.

[igotanidea]

Elf : Dick Grayson x reader

Christmas bingo day 13 : elf

They were just casually walking through the mall, finishing the christmas preparations, buying some additional presents and food.

There was no indication of an upcoming catastrophe.

Not until they wandered close to the Santa Claus stand and Dick’s eyes almost glowed.

„Oh, no -” Y/N muttered while being dragged closer to the platform with St.Nick’s armchair surrounded by the dummy trees and reindeers, all sprinkled with fake snow.  „dick!” the sudden hiss coming from her mouth did little to zero in stopping him. Once Dick Grayson set his mind on something there was no way to convince him otherwise or distract him.

Even if his initial idea was - well - stupid.

Just like now,

He couldn’t care less about the kids crowding around and their parents’ hateful gazes as he pushed through the throng, his sole purpose to get closer. All while still holding the hand of his poor girlfriend, who was just throwing apologetic glances left and right hoping no kid would start crying or throwing a temper tantrum.

„Dick!” she hissed again „Stop right now!”

Obviously he was not listening at all, his gaze fixed on the genre scene

„Richard Grayson!”

„Oh.” ironically he stopped so abruptly she almost ended on his back „you’re using my full name now, huh?”

„Just to remind you you’re an adult!”

„so what?” Dick shrugged and looked as her uncannily, only unnerving her more

„this is for kids!”

„maybe I;m practising?” he smirked

„practising? Practising what?”

„Performing for the kids. You know  -” suddenly his arms were on her waist pulling her closer despite the indecency of such behaviour around children „for future purposes-”

„Oh- oh- well- I guess I can turn a blind eye to it, then....”

„Great!” once he got what he wanted he dragged her to the front before she had a chance to change her mind.

However, Santa Claus seemed to be late and the only thing that could save the day (and possibly salvage parents from the wrath of their kids) were -

„Elves!” Dick almost jumped from excitement seeing colourfully dressed Santa’s helpers coming on stage. „Y/N! Do you see?!” he tugged at her sleeve like a child seeing snow for the first time.

„Uhm.”

„Come on! Where’s your Christmas spirit! Just look at them! I wish I could - ‘’ his voice faltered a little before finishing the sentence and it was not a good sign. Y/N could almost see the wheels in his brain turning and it quickly dawned on her.

„No.” she said sternly, squeezing his hand

„Oh, yes.” he grinned in response.

„Don’t you dare. I swear if you do, you’ll be spending Christmas without me.”

„We both know you would never be so cruel, love” quick peck on her lips and ruffle of her hair was all she got before Dick literally evaporated.

oh no, no, no....

Five minutes later another elf came onto the view.

Very, very familiar elf with dark hair and blue eyes and dressed in all blue and red, grinning wildly, happily and shaking the pompon on the big elf hat.

And suddenly it was not embarrassing anymore.

Suddenly, he was the most handsome man to ever walk the earth and his childlike disguise did nothing to hide his pretty face and perfect figure.

Suddenly she was happy that there were only kids and married women around and not teenage girls or single ladies.

But there was no jealousy.

She was definitely not jealous of her childish boyfriend walking the stage in a Christmas costume looking like a movie star, entertaining the same kids he pushed away earlier.

And - funny thing - no one seemed to remember that when dick put on his golden boy appearances.

„Y/N!” he cried out towards her „have you been nice this year?”

She blushed when all eyes landed on her instantly, pretty sure that adults understood that sentence quite differently.

„I’m pretty sure that’s the question Santa is supposed to ask me.” she retorted trying to keep her cool.

„Well, he’s not around, is he?”

„I wonder how he’ll react after figuring his subordinate is trying to take his job?”

„I’m just filling the gap.” Dick grinned „I;m just ambitious, last time I checked, it was not a crime.”

„Not like poking on innocent girls, who wished no attention?”

„I think -”

„SANTA!!” before Dick could finish the sentence (thank god) the man dressed up as disguised as a kindly old man wearing a distinctive red costume took over, discreetly shoving Dick away.

Normally, Grayson would be devastated, but in this case the only thing filling him was contentment. He got his five minutes, he got the attention and most importantly -he made Y/N flustered and saw that pretty, natural, pink blush adorning her cheeks.

It was good enough.

Oh, and she was still about to answer that naughty or nice question for him ....

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Delicate (Superstar Chapter 4)

Sometimes when I look into your eyes

I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

'Cause I like you

Is it cool that I said all that?

Is it chill that you're in my head?

'Cause I know that it's delicate

Roy and the Reader deal with the aftermath of petty jealousy.

Roy Kent x Reader

5.9k words

Warnings: Language, some tension and innuendo, angst that made my heart hurt

~

“She’s my assistant.”

“Poor thing.”

The words kept floating in my head as I leaned against the exterior of the building, thankful that the photographers had left hours ago, not that they’d pay any mind to me. It wasn’t like I was a gorgeous model, or the ex-girlfriend of a famous footballer. Not like Brittany fucking Brett. Brittany Brett, who probably had her tongue shoved down Roy’s throat as he forgot all about nights cuddled in our booth as Rose brought us our usual drinks at the pub. Or texting each other dinner plans while Ted went off on one of his incoherent rambles in his office. Or humming “Something Good” in my ear as he passed me on the pitch. Or the dozens of little moments of kisses and touches and glances filled with fondness, all seeming to hint towards the something real that Roy had told Jamie he wanted.

Honestly, I should have known better. He was Roy "Here There Every-fucking-where" Kent. I was no one special. Girls all over England probably grew up with his posters on their walls and screamed his name at games. I just happened to be the one to share an office with the man. I probably just provided him with a fun, flirty distraction while he waited for Brittany Brett, who the tabloids more than once referred to as Roy's "one who got away". In twenty years, I'd chuckle fondly as I recounted my brief fling with Roy freaking Kent with friends at a party, maybe make a viral post about his love for The Sound of Music, and be little less than a memory to him.

I’d have to be mature. Agree that what we had was fun and assure him that I could stay professional. I was sure I could at least get through the rest of the season before sheepishly thanking Ted and Rebecca for the opportunity to be a Greyhound and asking for a good recommendation.

“Shit! There you are!”

Keeley looked wild and panicky as she approached me. I groaned, not needing her commentary on Brittany Brett, who was probably a good friend of hers from Keeley’s modeling days, sharing that Gorgeous Girl™ bond that surely trumped any burgeoning workplace friendship.

“Are you alright?” she continued. “What’d he do to you?”

I rolled my eyes at Keeley’s dramatics. “Fuck’s sake, Roy didn’t do shit,” I muttered. “He has every right-”

Keeley shook her head frantically, hair flying. “What? No, Richard. Roy’s in there ready to pummel him. I’ve got Jamie trying to calm him down, which was probably not the best idea.”

“Fuck.”

I turned and rushed back into the venue, mentally cursing Keeley for helping me find shoes that, while gorgeous with my dress, were not made for running.

The party was still in full swing, no signs of drama. I turned back to Keeley, who grabbed my hand and led me out a side door, to a smaller party room that was clearly not prepared for any guests, judging by its bright lights and lack of decorations. Sure enough, Roy, Jamie, and Richard all stood there, Roy’s face uncharacteristically expressive. Of course, that expression was pure rage.

“The fuck did you do?!” he was bellowing as Jamie did his best to hold Roy back, sputtering something about calming the fuck down, Grandpa, which was clearly not helping matters.

Richard, showing no signs of panic on his face, held his hands up defensively. “Nothing! She just said she wasn’t feeling well and ran off! She is probably just in the bathroom.”

“Bullshit!” Roy nearly broke free of Jamie’s grasp.

“Roy!” I hissed, stepping forward to grab his arm as Keeley made sure the door was closed. “What the fuck?”

He turned his firey gaze to me, his eyes full of rage. “The fuck did he do to you?” he demanded. “I saw you run out of there like your fucking hair was on fire.”

“He didn’t do shit,” I said in a rush. “I wasn’t fucking feeling good. I had about a million drinks, in case you forgot. Needed some fucking air.” I huffed, crossing my arms across my chest. “You can’t kill one of your players. If nothing else, it’s bad for recruiting.” I stared at him, trying to ignore the warmth that I felt seeing the protectiveness in his face. “Just fucking stop,” I added quietly. “Just leave Richard alone and go out there and act like you didn’t just make an absolute arse of yourself.” I turned to Keeley. “I’m sorry about this,” I grumbled. “Clearly, I’m not the only one who drank too much. If this causes any issues in the press, let me know. I’ll help you clean up Roy’s mess.” I glared at Roy, who was still behind Jamie’s arm, though no longer trying to fight his way through the player. “I’m his fucking assistant, after all. Part of my job.”

Keeley shook her head and sighed, confusion in her eyes. “No, it’s all fine. Jamie and I were able to get them in here before anyone noticed anything was amiss.” She nodded to Montlaur. “But in case anyone’s being nosy, Richard, you should head on out. Jamie and I’ll come along in a moment. That way it’s not just a big group of us coming out all at once.” She offered up a small smirk in my direction. “Though we’d probably look like we just had the hottest orgy in the history of football.”

Her attempt to break the tension with humor only worked on Jamie and Richard, who let out soft chuckles.

I approached Richard, not giving a flying fuck that Roy was watching me intensely. “I’m really sorry for Roy,” I mumbled. “He clearly misinterpreted what he saw and got protective.” I shot daggers at Roy again before turning back to Richard. “I hope this doesn’t make work… weird.”

Richard shook his head, completely affable despite the drama. “Oh please. This is nothing compared to the husbands and boyfriends I have had to deal with. Especially the ones that found me still in their beds!” He laughed amiably before glancing warily at Roy. “But perhaps I will not ask you again to dance. And, sadly, I will not give you a kiss goodbye.” With an awkward smile, he turned and walked out, the noise of the party bursting through the door before it closed again, leaving the four of us in silence.

Keeley popped her lips. “Well, that was fun.” She glanced at Roy, who was red in the face and pacing, then back to me. “You gonna be alright?” Her eyes told me that Jamie could wait with Roy if I wanted to leave with her. That I didn’t need to deal with whatever this was, and that whatever this was, she wouldn’t ask. At least, not tonight.

“I’m fine,” I assured Keeley with a weak smile. “I’ll be out there in a bit, yeah?”

Keeley nodded then grabbed Jamie by the arm. Jamie shot me an apologetic smile and landed a friendly punch on my arm before following Keeley back to the party. Once again, the room was filled with the sounds of music, dancing, and fun, before giving way to the tense silence.

Roy stopped pacing, his face now more of a pink than red, and stared at me. “What the fuck?” he asked. It was a hoarse whisper, barely leaving his lips, and his eyes were filled with question marks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I countered, perching myself up on one of the empty tables that dotted the room. “Why the hell were you trying to kill Montlaur? I know you think he’s prickish and all-”

“Because he’s a fucking prick!” Roy practically shouted. “And-and I told you I thought he was a prick to ask you out because we all know exactly what he’s interested in and then I turn and see you fucking clinging to him and suddenly you’re running out of the room looking like you’re about to fucking cry, what the fuck am I supposed to think?”

A hollow laugh escaped my lungs. “No. Back the fuck up, Roy. What happened between the dancing with Montlaur and the running out of the room?”

Roy stared at me in silence for a moment, his shoulders slumped as the gears in his head turned. “The fuck are you on about?”

“Okay.” I slammed my hands on my thighs and stood back up, making my way past Roy and towards the doors. “That’s how it’s going to be then. I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. Lookin’ forward to seeing photos of you and Brittany Brett’s reunion in The Sun tomorrow. See you Monday.”

Roy reached out and grabbed my arm, his grip firm but tender. “Is that what this is all about?” His voice was as soft as his face, thick eyebrows raised. “Brittany fucking Brett?”

Apparently, I hit my boiling point. “Of course it’s about Brittany fucking Brett, Roy! Fuck! You spend weeks all over me, taking me out, singing along to the fucking Sound of Music at my place, you practically tell me you want me to be your date to this shit next year, you make me feel special, like I matter to you, and then you turn around and kiss your ex-girlfriend.” I pulled out of Roy’s grasp and crossed my arms. “Which, I mean, that’s your own damn business, I guess. You’re single, after all. She’s single. So, go. Be hot and rich and famous together.”

A deep frown twisted Roy’s face, his eyebrows more furrowed than I’d ever seen. “Single?” he repeated, practically spitting out the word. “You think I’m single? I’m not fucking single.” He shook his head earnestly. “I… I haven’t considered myself single since….” He glanced up at the ceiling and shrugged. “Well, fuck, since we kissed at your parents’ house surrounded by all those fucking posters of me.” He looked back down at me.

My breath caught in my throat as I gazed into those brown eyes that stared at me with that familiar anxiety swimming around. “Then… then why’d you kiss her?” My mouth felt dry as I prayed that the next words out of Roy’s mouth would magically fix things.

He shook his head earnestly. “No, no. I didn’t fucking kiss her.” He sighed and placed a tentative hand on my arm. “She kissed me. And I immediately pushed her off me, which you fucking missed apparently. Told her I’m seeing someone that I really like. And that even if I wasn’t- which I am,” he clarified tugging me closer when he realized I wasn’t fighting him, “-I wouldn’t want fuck all to do with her.” He looked down at me. “Don’t you remember what I told you on our first date?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re the only person that has ever made me feel like you want me.” He scoffed and nodded towards the door, towards the party. “How d’you think Brittney Brett made me feel? Like I was some fucking accessory, this thing that would get her photo in the press more if I was next to her. You would never make me feel that way. It’s one of the many, many things I adore about you.”

“Oh.” I looked down at our shoes, blinking as I turned Roy’s words over in my head, my stomach and heart doing flips that Olympic gymnasts could only dream of.

“Oh?” Roy dipped his head. “That’s all you’ve got? Oh?” A hint of a smile graced his lips. “Come on. Put me out of my fucking misery here.” His arm wrapped around my waist. “Tell me… tell me we’re okay,” he whispered.

His eyes were still full of that anxiety, but now it was mixed with hope as he bit on his bottom lip, waiting for me to answer. I gulped, my head spinning from the alcohol and the events of the evening and whatever woodsy cologne Roy had on that I knew he was wearing just for me.

Roy sighed, his hand tracing gentle circles on my back. “Or we could go out there and enjoy the rest of our evening, and we can come back to this tomorrow?” He leaned his head against mine. “Come on, I’ve got some dopey surprise for you. Been looking forward to it all night. Real fucking romantic.”

I lifted my head. “You’ve got a surprise for me?” The corners of my mouth turned upwards in spite of myself. “A romantic one?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, tapping his nose against mine. “So why don’t we get back out there before Keeley tells everyone we’re shagging in here?” He squinted at me. “Unless…”

Now completely smiling, I smacked Roy’s arm. “Come on. I want to see this surprise.” I slipped out of Roy’s grasp and took his hand, leading him towards the door. Just before I reached for the doorknob, Roy pulled me back to himself. “What?” I laughed, the weight on my chest dissipating.

“Just gotta do this first.” His hand cupped my face and he leaned close, pressing his lips to mine for the first time that evening. His grip on me tightened as his lips parted slightly, allowing me to taste the beer he’d been drinking all night. In the back of my head, I thanked Keeley for her high-end, smudge-free lipstick that would hopefully not create an obvious mess on Roy’s face.

When we parted, Roy smiled at me. As if he could read my mind, he hummed, “Am I wearing your lipstick now?” In response, I simply wiped away the small spot of red that I had left on the edge of his mouth, then shook my head to confirm that he was good. He studied my lips carefully. “Alright. If we don’t go out there now, we might never leave.”

He opened the door and gestured for me to lead the way like a gentleman, keeping a friendly distance as we rejoined the festivities.

“Alright, Kent,” I started over the music. “What’s this surprise?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “Should be happening in about three minutes,” he mumbled. “Why don’t we grab a drink?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Only if I can come to the bar with you,” I teased dryly, hoping it wasn’t too soon to joke.

His dramatic eyeroll assured me it wasn’t. “Come on then.”

As we walked to the bar, we passed Jamie and Keeley, who both eyed us curiously. Roy gave them a curt nod and I shot Keeley a small thumbs up, assuring her that all was good. I knew she’d either corner me later in the night with cheeky accusations or call me the next day demanding details of what had happened in that room after they left, but for now, all I wanted to do was be with Roy.

Once we were settled at the bar, drinks in hand, I turned to Roy. “Alright, what’s the surprise?”

He shook his head. “Nope. You’ll know it when you hear it.”

“Hmmf.” My gaze turned to the dance floor, where our friends and coworkers were moving to the admittedly great band, having a blast. I couldn’t help but smile as I watched them and enjoyed my drink. “D’you ever dance at this thing?”

“Not if I can fucking help it.” His eyes wandered to the stage, where the band was wrapping up their song. “But I might have to make an exception tonight.”

I took another sip of my drink. “What do-”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the band’s singer, a woman with dark, wild hair and a flowing dress, called out, “we had an anonymous request earlier this evening that we are thrilled to fulfill. We hope there’s some Julie Andrews fans out there.” She plucked at her guitar, creating a familiar dreamy tune.

“Perhaps I had a wicked childhood,” she sang. “Perhaps I had a miserable youth.”

I turned to Roy, my mouth slightly ajar. “The Sound of Music. Was this you?”

He shrugged, placing his half-finished beer on the bar and taking my glass from me. “Do you see any other Captain von Trapp-ish grumps around here?” He took my hand and nodded towards the dance floor. “Let’s go.”

My heart hammered as Roy led the way. I wondered if everyone could see the flush covering my face, even in the dim lighting. On the dance floor, Roy kept my hand in his, placing his free hand on the small of my back while mine rested on his shoulder. He kept a respectable distance, not exactly a professional one for two coworkers, but nothing anyone would bat an eye at. Not that it mattered; I could not care less about anyone else around us. Not Keeley and all her teasing, not Richard and his flirtatious ways, not even Brittany Brett. All I wanted was to be close to Roy and feel his warm breath on my cheek as he quietly sang the words to Something Good in my ear.

~

The rest of the night was miraculous and wonderful. Roy assured me that I could dance with other people without him throwing another fit- so I did. I danced all night as Roy watched. He laughed with Keeley as Jamie and I attempted to do the robot together and smiled as Dani Rojas twirled me around and clapped as Sam Obisanya dipped me dramatically and rolled his eyes good-naturedly while Ted held my hand in an attempt to teach everyone some square-dancing moves. After a particularly fun salsa with Isaac McAdoo, I approached Roy back at our table, who held out a glass of water to me.

“Having fun out there?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer.

I nodded. “An absolute blast. My feet are killing me though.”

“Guess I’ll have to fucking carry you home,” Roy joked, the fondness in his eyes telling me that he wouldn’t mind one bit.

“Looks like it,” I agreed with a smirk.

The band’s singer called for everyone’s attention. “We hope you’ve had a fabulous time tonight,” she began. “But unfortunately, it’s time for us say goodnight. On behalf of Rebecca Welton and everyone at A.F.C. Richmond, thank you so much for joining us and for all your support and generosity. Here’s one more song before we go.”

I turned to Roy. “Are you ready to head out then?” A small part of me was hoping for some alone time before calling it a night.

To my surprise, Roy shook his head. “Did you really forget? You promised me the last dance.”

I laughed and downed the rest of my water. “Were you serious about that?”

“Dead fucking serious.”

He grabbed my hand and stood, pulling me up with him. He kept my hand in his as he led me to the dance floor, giving it a small squeeze as he pulled me towards him. He placed his free hand on my waist, just as he had earlier. But now he pressed me close to his chest, definitely closer than two platonic, casual coworkers should be.

“But don’t forget who’s taking you home and in whose arms you’re gonna be, so darlin’ save the last dance for me,” the band sang.

“Are you alright?” Roy asked, leaning down towards me. “Tonight…. Didn’t exactly go the way either of us had hoped.”

“No, it did not,” I agreed, wincing slightly. “But I think we did a good job of salvaging things, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Believe it or not, even with almost killing Montlaur, this is the best fucking time I’ve ever had at this thing. Mostly because I didn’t get auctioned off like a fucking basket of fruit.” The corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “And because I got to spend time with you.” He somehow managed to pull me even closer, close enough so I could feel his heart beating. “Not nearly enough time though,” he added. “And I’m sorry about that.”

I shook my head. “We’re okay,” I assured him. “At least, I hope we are.”

“How about we talk tomorrow?” he offered. “We’ll have a good night’s rest and be sober, and we can talk about whatever shit we need to talk about.” He squeezed my hand. “How’s that sound?”

“I… think it’s a good idea.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you, by the way.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “For what?”

“Saving the last dance for me.”

~

Roy walked me up to my apartment, his suit jacket having been wrapped around my shoulders since we left the venue. We paused at my door, the way we had for weeks now. He smiled down at me in that same way, softness in his eyes, lifting his hand to touch my hair.

“Well, I’m just glad the night didn’t end fucked,” he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes. “You sure know how to end a date.”

“This was a date then?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Eh.” I shrugged. “Depends, are you going to kiss me goodnight?”

His mouth was on mine in less than an instant. He pulled me tight against himself, one arm completely wrapped around my waist as I pulled him down to me by his tie. His tongue grazed my mouth, asking permission. I obliged, tasting beer and a hint of the chocolate cupcake he’d shared with me towards the end of the night. His hand that was still tangled in my hair tugged a little, trying to pull me closer to himself. We were a tangle of lips and tongues and hot breath and soft moans, neither of us caring about the possibility of someone seeing us.

I pulled back mere centimeters, just enough to whisper, “You want to come in?”

Roy gave a little groan, pressing his forehead against mine. “I want to. I definitely fucking want to. But I think we should say goodnight til we talk tomorrow, yeah?” He stroked my cheek, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Want to make sure we’re on the same page about things.” He paused, his thumb ghosting over my bottom lip. “Come over tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.

The disappointment I had felt a moment ago melted and gave way to delight. “Roy Kent can cook?” I teased, fiddling with his tie.

He smirked with pride as his hand rubbed my hip. “Fuck yeah, Roy Kent can cook.” He kissed my lips, pulling away as my mouth chased his. “Tomorrow then?”

I groaned and buried my head in his chest, drunk off the drinks and Roy’s kisses. “Fine. Tomorrow.” I looked up at him. “One more for the road?” I purred, giving my best pout.

“You needy thing,” he chuckled, planting one more kiss on my lips before pulling away with finality. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he promised.

~

My mobile went off as I was lounging in bed late the next morning, smiling at Roy’s jacket draped over my bedroom door. I picked up the phone, my mind still back in front of my door, where Roy’s kiss had made my knees weak.

“Hello?” I answered, my voice dreamy.

“Alright, what the fuck happened?” Keeley’s squeals brought me back to reality.

I scrambled to sit up. “Morning Keeley!” I choked out, hoping I sounded breezy and casual. “How’re you? You have fun last night? Does Jamie remember doing the robot with me or was he too sloshed?”

I could practically feel her roll her eyes through the phone. “Oh no, we’re not playing this game. You owe me all the details about what happened with Roy last night. Spill.”

“Nothing!” I blurted, probably a bit too quickly. “We talked. He told me he thought Montlaur did something to hurt me and got protective. I mean, we share an office, we see each other every day, I kind of get why he’d be protective of me. Plus, you saw how much he drank, he probably doesn’t even remember what happened.” I cleared my throat. “So, we’re good. I’ll probably talk to him on Monday about apologizing to Montlaur, but other than that, I think we can all just forget what happened.”

“What about all the dancing?” Keeley challenged. “Roy never dances at the gala. Even when he’s brought a date, he’s good for maybe one dance. He danced with you what, like four or five times?”

I scoffed, flopping back onto my bed. “We danced twice,” I corrected Keeley. “As friends.”

Keeley hummed. “Oh, so you counted?”

“Shove off, Keeley,” I groaned, eyeing Roy’s jacket again. “Can’t you just accept that Roy and I are friends? I mean, shit, that’s headline enough.”

“Friends huh?”

“Yes!”

Keeley cleared her throat. “Then did your friend Roy Kent say anything about Brittany Brett? I’m desperate to know what happened there.”

My cheeks burned; I was hoping to forget that Brittany Brett had been at the party. “Nope. Didn’t say a word,” I said shortly. “Don’t know a thing.”

“Aw, babe,” Keeley clucked. “No need to be jealous. That’s long over from what I’ve heard.”

“’m not jealous,” I grumbled. But damn, I couldn’t resist the bait. “What have you heard?”

Keeley gave a small giggle. “Why don’t you come over tonight for a good old-fashioned sleepover? I can give you all the gossip like we’re little schoolgirls. We’ll throw on our pyjamas, get tipsy, sing some Spice Girl songs, crank call Jamie. Fuck, we can even go play knock-and-run at Roy’s place. Maybe we’ll catch a glimpse of him shirtless.”

Damn, this woman was a great friend. “Aww, Keeley, I’d love to hang out,” I started. “But I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Next time!” she gushed, unbothered. “What’s up tonight?”

“Oh, just some family stuff. Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid.”

Keeley gave a small hum. “Maybe brunch tomorrow?”

I nodded into the phone. “Sounds great.”

We stayed on the line for a few more minutes, making plans to meet for brunch at one of Keeley’s favorite places and agreeing that she should invite Rebecca to join us. After a couple more attempts on Keeley’s end to find out any dirty details about what happened between me and Roy, we hung up. Sometime during the call, I’d received a text message from Roy:

Can’t wait to see you

~

Of course Roy Kent’s house was huge. Of course it was. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the man was a retired football star. But standing in front of his house- mansion, practically- I was reminded all over again that this was the man on all those posters in my parents’ house. Roy “Here-There-Everywhere” Kent.

I stood tentatively in front of his door, debating if I should ring the bell or just send him a text to let him know I’d arrived. As I debated my choices and played with the hem of the dress that suddenly felt too short and too dressy, the door opened. Roy stood in the doorway, wearing the black slacks and shirt he’d been wearing on our first date. His eyes took their time eagerly traveling up my figure and to my face, where they settled tenderly.

“Fuck,” he whispered, cracking a full smile. “How’d you manage to look more gorgeous than you did last night?”

My face burned at the compliment. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” I answered, trying to sound casual as he ushered me in. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Got some sensor shit on the door,” he explained matter-of-factly as he closed the door behind me. “I dunno, Beard set it up for me. Man’s fucking paranoid.”

“Hmm.”

That was all I could manage as I took in Roy’s house. It was spacious, airier and lighter than I expected. I smiled as I recognized photos of his niece and sister everywhere, as well as an older man I assumed was his grandad.

“Sorry I don’t have posters of you all over the place,” he teased, taking my hand to lead me to the kitchen. “Could you believe they were sold out of you at the administrative-assistant-poster store?”

“Oh yeah, I’m really popular,” I played along as Roy pulled out a stool at the kitchen island for me to sit on. “Let me know if you want my autograph.”

He turned to the stove, stirring something in a pot. “How much d’you think I could get for it on eBay?”

“Enough to buy a nicer house. Sorry to break it to you, Roy, but this place is a regular shithole.”

Roy practically choked on his laughter. “Oi, now you’re getting personal.” He turned and faced me. “I’m really fucking glad you’re here,” he said softly.

My blush returned. “Me too.” I sat up to take a good look at the stove, trying to see what smelled so delicious. “Need any help?” I offered.

“Fuck no. You just relax.” He nodded towards a fully stocked bar in the adjoining dining room. “Drink? Or have you sworn off alcohol after last night?”

I shook my head. “I’ll take a drink,” I assured him.

Roy crossed over to the bar, pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder as he passed me. When he returned, he placed two drinks on the island, the same one I ordered every time we went to the pub. He then served dinner and laid one of the bowls in front of me.

“Beef tzimmes,” he announced, sitting across from me. “My grandad used to make this for me when I was a kid. First thing he ever taught me how to make.”

I could feel my eyes light up as I took my first bite. “Shit, this is good!”

“Glad to know Phoebe’s not lying to me then,” Roy muttered as he began to eat his own bowl.

We ate comfortably, drinking and laughing and sharing jokes, as if nothing had transpired the night before. It felt like every other time we’d hung out; comfortable, relaxed, but charged with the attraction we shared. God, it was good to know that we could still be like this.

Roy cleared the bowls and left them in the sink before helping me out of my seat. “Wanna go sit outside? We can have our chat.”

My breath caught for a moment as I remembered why I was there in the first place; a serious talk awaited us. Roy placed a reassuring kiss on my forehead and grabbed our drinks, leading me out to his patio. I settled in a loveseat while he turned on a set of string lights.

“My sister made me get these,” he grumbled as he joined me, handing me my drink.

“She has good taste,” I remarked as I leaned back.

Roy snorted. “In fucking lights, maybe. In men…” He bobbled his head, making a face. He caught my unsure expression. “Sorry. You didn’t come here to listen to me rant about Phoebe’s shit dad.”

“Not this time,” I joked, trying to break the tension.

He leaned back, laying his arm around my shoulders. “So,” he started, his face suddenly serious.

“So,” I repeated.

Roy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry again. Really fucking sorry.” He turned his body to face me properly. “I’m sorry for trying to kill Montlaur. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions and not talking to you. And I’m really fucking sorry you had to see Brittany Brett kiss me.” He shook his head and looked at me with those anxious eyes. “D’you forgive me?”

My heart tugged gently in my chest. “Of course.” I laid my hand on Roy’s thigh. “I’m sorry for screaming at you. And for trying to make you jealous. And for making you apologize to Richard.”

He frowned, confused. “You didn’t make me apologize.”

“No, I was saving that for Monday.”

“Fair enough.” He rested his free hand on top of mine. “Why’d you get so jealous?”

I shifted in my seat. “I mean… have you seen that woman? She’s literally a model.”

Roy shrugged. “So’s Keeley. You didn’t seem to care when she danced with me while you and Jamie did what I can only assume was an attempt at the robot.”

“Keeley’s not your ex,” I pointed out. “Brittany Brett is. And she was hanging all over you, and oh yeah, she kissed you.” I paused, letting my words sink in. “And I just don’t get why you were talking to her,” I admitted. “You say you want nothing to do with her, and that she made you feel like shit, so I don’t know why you would hang out with her at the bar.”

“No, that’s fair,” Roy agreed. “See…” He tilted his head back, thinking. “We went out during this really fucked time in my life. I was already starting to realize that I was passing my prime. And I was starting to get fucking scared that I’d never be a superstar again. And being with this internationally known model allowed me to pretend that I would be a hotshot forever.” He paused. “And then she dumped me for someone who was actually in the prime of their career. Which, obviously, felt fucking great.” He wrinkled his nose. “And I guess seeing her for the first time since then brought back some of those feelings of not being good enough anymore. And I guess I wanted to show her that I’m doing great.” He squeezed my hand. “Really great since I started seeing you.” He let out a growling sigh. “And once she started flirting, I think some part of me wanted to reject her this time,” he admitted. “But it absolutely wasn’t worth it seeing how things turned out.” He cleared his throat, looking down. “That’s some stupid shit, eh?”

I quickly shook my head. “I mean, it still hurt, but I get it now.” I paused, giving the ground a small kick. “I didn’t really appreciate the whole ‘she’s just my assistant’ shit though.”

Roy let out a dry chuckle. “Also fair,” he conceded. “Sorry about th-” He stopped, thick brows creased. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“I may have been eavesdropping,” I muttered. “That’s about the point where I felt really shitty and dragged Richard out on the dance floor to make you jealous.”

“Hmmf.” Roy stared at me thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?” I nodded. “D’you consider yourself single?”

I blushed, remembering the way I had yelled at Roy the night before. “Not really,” I admitted. “I haven’t even thought about another guy since the first time you bought me kebabs for lunch.”

“And I told you last night, I haven’t thought of myself as a single guy since that night at your parents’,” he reminded me. His fingers drummed on my shoulder. “I think the problem is, we didn’t think of each other as not being single.”

“What d’you mean?” I asked; Roy was talking in circles.

He shrugged. “I mean, I don’t think either of us would have been so fucking jealous if… if we both knew we’re both not single.” He glanced up at the string lights, face twisted in uncertainty. “Is that right?”

Something in my brain clicked. “Roy, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Don’t talk like we’re fucking thirteen behind a Tesco,” he snarled. “But yeah, sure, however you want to fucking call it.” He leaned close, eyes searching mine. “I just want you to know I’m yours. That’s all. And I’d like to know that you’re mine. Because if we know that, then all the other shit- ex-girlfriends and stupid French pricks- none of it’ll matter. Because we’ll know how we feel.” He shrugged. “What d’you say?”

I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his harshly, desperate to show him how heartily I agreed with him. “I think it’s a damn good idea,” I mumbled against his mouth.