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#one of his chats is about wishing he knew how to talk to beautiful women
riddlerosehearts · 8 months
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anyway my "why i don't think idia is (usually) stinky" post from earlier today did remind me of a wider issue i have with how people in the fandom treat idia sometimes: i've been engaging with this fandom since march 2023 and since then i've seen all kinds of headcanons and fics and such where he's characterized not just as smelly and sweaty and gross 24/7--but also as "the token straight", homophobic, an incel and a perv. and people always seem to automatically do this when they see a gamer/otaku character, no matter what the character's other traits may be, and i hate it. idia is a genius engineer and needs to clean up before he works with machines at the very least. idia very freely calls characters like vil, silver, and malleus gorgeous and handsome and attractive. idia's canon favorite anime is not some battle shonen series that's likely to have an abundance of oversexualized women and fanservice, but a wholesome and heartwarming sports anime about the friendship between a team of young women. idia is a wonderful character who's just as complex as anyone else in twst.
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wheelsupimagine · 6 months
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Take your chance - Jennifer Jareau x FemReader blurb
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Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x Fem!reader
Word count: 948 words
Warnings: angst and fluff
Summary: When you first started in the Bau, JJ feel in love with you but was scared to tell you but one night out with the team may change everything
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Jennifer Jareau is a beautiful kind kind-hearted woman she has a decent life, filled with fantastic friends and a job she likes but the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters she was done for you.
This was two months ago now since you first started working at the BAU and everything is going great, you are a great addition to the team, do good as a profiler and you have a sweet boyfriend named Brad.
JJ on the other hand never understood why you fell for Brad, you were beautiful and intelligent, and your laugh could light up the whole world and Brad wasn’t anything of those, in JJ's eyes you deserved someone better,
someone who loves you unconditionally, someone who supports you in every way and that’s when JJ knew she wanted to be more than your friend, she wanted to be the person you come home to.
Since her realization, JJ tried to stand away from you as far as possible but it was hard not to arouse any suspicion that something was wrong.
JJ didn’t tell anyone about her feelings for you, but she couldn’t hide them very well - once in a while JJ stole more glances at you, obviously the team noticed it, but they never said anything to JJ, so she could cope with it herself.
After another successful case, the team decided to celebrate at the bar.
JJ sat with Emily at a round table, the others were all over the bar but JJ's eyes were on one person and one person only -
Y/n.
She chatted in a very flirty way with another woman. It was no secret that y/n is bisexual, cause once Derek couldn’t keep his mouth shut when he tried to get every little detail out of y/n’s love life but why would she talk to a woman so flirtatious right now, she has a boyfriend right? And why was it not her?
JJ held on to her glass so tight that her knuckles turned white.
Emily saw the change in JJ’s behavior and followed her gaze to you who was so close to another woman that their noses almost touched.
"You know it’s okay, right ?" Emily said and pulled JJ out of her thoughts.
"WHAT ?" JJ asked totally shocked by what Emily said.
"It’s okay that you feel something for her. I know you are scared because this is new and different for you, but if you going to sit here all night and ask yourself what would have happened, you wished you dared to go up to her and become clean of your feelings, you are going to regret it, if you not do it now."
JJ was completely stunned by what Emily just said to her that she couldn’t come up with something immediately, they sat there in silence for a second until JJ spoke again.
"I don’t know what you mean, I don’t care what y/n is doing, I was just curious why she is talking to someone else when she has a boyfriend but else I just have a great time."
" you sure about that. I just talked to you for five minutes and you didn’t answer me, you just held your glass real tight and stared at Y/n. At one point I even said you are the worst person on the team and they would be better without you, so yeah you totally do not care about Y/n.
JJ wanted to answer her but then she saw how y/n leaned into the stranger and JJ knew this couldn’t happen.
"Excuse me," JJ said to Emily as she left their table. Emily couldn’t even say anything JJ as she already stormed her way to you and Emily couldn’t hold back a smirk.
You were completely focused on the stranger, your lips almost touched but out of a sudden you felt a cold liquid on your body and you backed up from the kiss only to see that JJ was the person who spilled the drink on your outfit.
"WHAT THE HELL ?!" The stranger said, but she was completely ignored by both women.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry y/n. Let me help you clean this up." JJ said, she didn’t wait for your answer and took your hand in hers and led the way to the empty bathroom.
"WHAT THE FUCK JJ, why did you do that ?" Y/n asked.
" I am sorry Y/n, it wasn’t my intention, it was just an accident, and you know that this isn’t you y/n and probably I saved you from a big mistake."
"JJ do you really think that this was an accident, don’t you think I didn’t see you staring at me the whole night?
"So JJ tell me the truth, why did you do it ?"
You took a step closer to JJ after she stayed silent after what you just said and now you two stood so close to each other that JJ was sure you could hear her heartbeat.
JJ was still shocked at how close you stood next to each other, you never were this close She didn’t dare to say anything.
"JJ, it’s okay, if you do not know what you want, I am not going to push you. I just want you to know, that whatever you are going to say, don’t think too much about it, trust me it’s not going to be too bad." Y/n said and stroked JJ's arm.
" I really would like to kiss you," JJ admitted.
"Then do it Jennifer Jareau, no one is going to stop you." You said and
finally, your lips collided.
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Let me know if you want a part 2 with smut 😏
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mxnsterbabe · 2 years
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Male Lich/Female Reader NSFW Wordcount: 1,339 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist
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You hated balls like these, forced to wear restricting dresses and pretend to care about what these rich assholes had to say. You felt more like a table piece than a person, all dolled up just to stand around and smile. On the outside, the ballroom was an exciting rush of dancing and laughter, but you knew the truth; people gossiped behind each other's backs, laughed with those they secretly hated to make themselves look good.
The host of tonight's ball, Lord Lackley, chatted away in your ear while you pretended to listen. All it took was a nod at the right time, or a well placed question to keep him talking for another five minutes. Then, once you'd listened for an acceptable amount of time, perhaps you could make an excuse to move along.
"I host these balls every year of course, but I outdid myself tonight. Don't you think?"
Your gaze drifted up, lips parted to fumble a reply. Luckily you never needed to, because at that moment a skeletal hand fell across your shoulder.
"Sorry I took so long, darling. There was a very drunk orc at the drinks table; I do hope he doesn't cause a scene."
Morven. You sank into his side immediately, comforted by the scent of old books that he seemed to carry everywhere. It came with being a scholar, you supposed, but goodness you loved it.
"Lord Hallowswift," Lord Lackley said with a strained smile. The two had never gotten on, but social expectations meant that they had to pretend. "How good to see you. When I sent out the invitations, I did not realise you and this lovely young woman were... involved."
"We've been married for a long time now, haven't we love?"
Morven did love to exaggerate; a year was not long, especially by a lich's standards... but you felt a flicker of approval nonetheless. 
Lord Lackley continued to make conversation with Morven, although his darting eyes made it clear that he was looking for a reason to leave. It was another reminder that behind the expensive gowns and champagne, the room was rife with tension. 
So you allowed your gaze to wander, watching as beautiful women swirled past. They were going straight towards a group of young men, no doubt looking to dance.
Your breath hitched when you felt Morven's hand slip lower; now, his skeletal hands caressed your hips while his chatter kept Lord Lackley distracted.
It sent a thrill jolting through you, and you pursed your lips to keep from speaking.
A touch of the hips was about all that you could get away with here, where everybody was watching eagle-eyed for a new scandal. Yet Morven didn't stop; his gaze never left Lord Lackley, but you felt his hands skim lower. And lower again. Sharp fingertips grazed your thigh, and you shifted slightly to allow him better access through the layers of skirt fabric. 
His hands grabbed your ass - and you muffled a squeak behind a cough as arousal flooded through you. Morven wasn't usually one for public affection, so this? This was new. 
You loved it.
"Morven, love?" you asked gently. "Would you mind fetching me a drink?"
Finally, his face turned to you. Where eyes should have been, his skull had two beautifully glowing yellow orbs. In the low light of the ballroom they looked like molten gold. Even now, in a form that most would have considered horrifying, Morven was stunning.
"A drink?" he asked, and there was a smile in his voice. "You're awfully flushed, perhaps you've had enough champagne for now?"
You flushed even hotter when his hand slipped below your ass and gave a pointed squeeze. Even such a simple touch had you biting back a moan, had you wishing that you were alone in Morven's little bedroom instead of in this foul place. 
Although Morven's face never changed, you somehow felt as if he was smirking.
"Maybe you need some fresh air?" he suggested kindly. What a tease. "Why don't we step outside for a minute?"
Lord Lackley scoffed at the idea - the two of you outside, alone? 
You didn't care; in fact, the idea of stirring up such gossip made your knees weak. You squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some friction to keep you together until... until you got outside, and Morven did whatever he wanted to you.
Perhaps concerned that you weren't getting the hint - as if that was possible - Morven's hand skimmed down your ass and, barely hindered by your dress, settled between your thighs.
Even with your skirts in the way, it ignited a fire inside your belly. His hands were slender and sharp, and you felt every ridge of bone grinding subtly against his hands. 
Lord Lackley remained entirely oblivious, to your relief, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to pretend like everything was normal.
Morven's hands continued to slide across your sensitive thighs as he smirked to himself, but he apparently had other things in mind. Your arousal began to mount; until Morven pulled his hand away, and you felt cold in his absence.
"Morven?" you hissed, shooting him a desperate look. He looked so hot in his elegant black suit and waistcoat, and he had been teasing you all night. Why stop now?
His expression was fond, but his golden orbs were shining with mischief. "How about that fresh air, darling?"
Your face was on fire and you were desperate for release. If the two of you didn't move now, you were going to lose control and take Morven right here in the middle of the ballroom. It was why you didn't hesitate to grab his hand and all but drag him towards the exit. Each step made your core pulse with desire, and all you wanted was to rip Morven free of that pretty black and gold waistcoat.
Morven smirked the entire time, and his laughter filled the ballroom as the two of you left. He knew exactly what he did to you, and God if that itself wasn't the hottest thing imaginable.
The two of you hardly made it outside before you were crushing yourself against Morven, desperate for his touch. He laughed as you ripped the waistcoat and shirt open, not caring when one of the buttons went flying across the grass. He was a mage, he could use a little magic to fix himself up after.
Or not. He looked good when he was all dishevelled.
"Eager, are we?" Morven asked - but he was a good husband, and he didn't hesitate to give you what you wanted. 
He grasped your thighs in a bruising grip and shoved you against the nearest solid surface; the wall. Then, with your skirts pulled aside and your thigh gripping his hips, Morven slipped a finger inside.
The first few times with Morven had been strange, feeling bone where there should have been soft flesh instead. Now, his fingers working you with expert care, you couldn't imagine ever wanting anything else.
"You've wanted this all night, haven't you?" Morven whispered against your ear. 
His hands had already turned you into jelly, but his voice tore a groan from between your pursed lips. "Yes," you gasped, burying your face into the crook of his neck. "I - ah - I've been admiring you all night in your suit, looking so effortlessly handsome."
His fingers crooked inside of you, drawing another long gasp from deep within your throat. He couldn't kiss you properly, but Morven's teeth grazed at your collarbone and it stung just right. 
You were close already, so fucking close, and in that moment you didn't care what rich Lord or Lady heard you call his name. "Morven!" the cry was muffled by his shirt as you buried your face deeper into his neck.
Your release came in a hot flood that left you reeling, gasping like you'd forgotten how to breathe. 
"There's my girl," Morven murmured sweetly. "Was that good?"
You looked up at him with heavy, satisfied eyes. "God, yes."
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enchantestuff · 3 years
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rekindle - rbr sebastian vettel
in which after a long time apart, you and Sebastian rekindle your love for one another in the least romantic place you could think of - a sweaty, packed nightclub
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NOT MY GIF!!
warnings: public sex (ofc), fingering, teasing, lowkey angst at the start, nicknames, uncomfy ex, sebastain Vettel deserves a warning himself, happy sinning
taglist: @theringers​ @forestviper201 @icemanhoneybadger​ @formulamei @findthelightinyourlife
3.1k words
You smirked as your eyes met from across the club for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You hadn't seen him in over a year, the last time you were even in the same country as him had ended up with you climbing into a taxi, speeding away to the airport and him standing half naked in his driveway, wishing for the car to turn around and end his worst nightmare.
The relationship between you and Sebastsian was a complicated one to say the least. You had grown up with each other, your families vacationed together every second summer and you spent many christmases together. It was only when you got older that you started to really appreciate Sebastian.
Daydreams of what it would be like to spend a night in bed with him began to fill your free moments. Images of the two of you tangled in bed was once something that you could only dream about, but that dream certainly became a reality one unforgettable night in Italy.
It was during a celebratory dinner after yet another win that he had leaned over to talk to you. His lips brushed against the side of your neck and goosebumps had risen all over your skin, you cursed yourself for your reaction but soon began praising your childish antics once Sebastian finally caught onto how you felt about him.
The few words of “do i make you nervous, liebe?” led to the two of you making out in the corridor. That celebratory dinner escalated to a friends with benefits situation which set off a more than complicated relationship between the two of you where feelings were of course present, but stubbornness from both sides refused to let them be out in the open.
Your feelings for one another eventually escaped when he got into a nasty crash in the middle of a race. You ran up to him the minute he stormed into the garage, tears welling in your eyes as you crushed into a hug. He held you with just as much force and whispered into your ear what you had been waiting for months to hear.
He told you that you had been the only thing on his mind when he crashed into the wall and he didn't want to go a minute longer without telling you how he really felt about you
As much as you wanted things to be great with Sebastain, your relationship was unfortunately not plain sailing from there and the media had a bring role to play in your downfall. They wouldn't leave him or you alone, constantly following the two of you wherever you went and even going as far as sending mail to your shared home. It was the media that drove you to leave the man you adored and move to another country in search for a new career and a new life away from the public eye.
You stared at him now, unable to tear your eyes away from his beautiful frame. He looked as good as ever and you knew deep down that you would probably never see him again. So against your brain telling you not to, you engraved every detail of his face into your memory, not wanting to let him go just yet.
You felt horrible for leaving him and strongly believed that he hated you for abandoning him. You wouldn't have blamed him if he did, you sometimes hated yourself for that decision. So you kept your distance from him all night, repeatedly telling yourself that if he did not harbor any bad emotions towards you, then he would approach you himself.
To tell the truth, you were too embarrassed to go up to him yourself, too full of guilt to face him after what you had done. But when he made eye contact with you as he pulled a girl into his body, something inside you snapped and you found yourself being dragged into an all too familiar game of cat and mouse with him.
Your night of teasing had officially begun the minute he kissed the brunette's neck, refusing to break your stare as his hands ran up and down her hips. You decided it was your turn to reciprocate the teasing and pulled a random, but still handsome, man towards you to dance. Holding your gaze with him, you allowed the man to grip onto your hips and sway from side to side. Your ass pressing against him with every beat of the music.
You maintained eye contact with him as he chatted with multiple women, his hands resting dangerously low on their backs as he smirked in your direction, you hated how much you loved his little games.
You decided to take a dance break and stepped away from the claustrophobic dance floor. Moving towards the less packed bar, you leaned against the contour top as you ordered yet another drink. The feeling of hands wrapping around your hips didn’t surprise you, nor did the hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. You were used to the warmth of Seb’s body by now and after so much time apart, you still recognized his touch.
“Quite a show you put on back there,” he muttered, gesturing to the bartender for another drink before turning his attention back towards you. You kept your face forward, staring at the variety of liquor stacked on the shelves as Sebastian flirted with you in your ear. He was still positioned behind you, which you saw as the perfect opportunity to press your ass against his crotch.
The tightening of his grip only fueled you to press yourself further into him in hopes that you would emit an even stronger reaction from him, and boy did you get what you wanted. One of his hands rested underneath your breast and as he emitting a small amount of pressure against you, he forced you into him.
No longer leaning against the counter, you could now feel the entirety of his body pressed against you. Every vein and muscle. Every curve and dent of his body, Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling your bum against him.
“Are you trying to turn me on right now, love, or are you really that fucking oblivous?”
You twisted your head to finally look at him, momentarily taken aback by his pure beauty before regaining your confidence again. “That depends,” you hummed, purposely brushing your lips against his neck as you spoke, “Is it working?”
His hold on you tightened and somehow he pulled you even closer to him, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his hardened cock. “Someones excited,” you smiled, immediately freezing up when you caught sight of your ex boyfriend standing next to you.
He was the man you had been with before Seb and it was safe to say he had completely broken your heart.
Confusion immediately filled Sebs body at your reaction, fearful he had done something wrong he moved to stand beside you, holding onto your bicep as he looked you in your eyes. “Are you alright, darling?” he questioned, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he searched your face for any indication of pain.
“Yeah its - “
“Y/N! Great to see you.” Dread immediately filled your body at the infamous voice, you felt yourself go rigid in Sebastian's grip and desperately wished for your ex to leave the two of you alone.
“Who's this douche?” Seb whispered in your ear, trying to relive some of your tension and comfort you in what seemed to be a terribly uncomfortable situation.
“Brad, hey,” you muttered, you grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand that was previously sprawled on the bar countertop, using the warmth of his touch as a confidence booster to finally turn around and face the brutal ex.
“How have you been?” he asked, refusing to even glance at the Redbull driver next to you, focusing his hungry gaze on you and you only.
You sighed deeply at his attempt of small talk. Could he not just say hello and move on? Did he really need to interrupt your night.
Sebastian kept a close eye on you throughout your short conversation. A sense of protectiveness filled him at your rigid stance, he knew you could handle the situation yourself but he couldn't help but want to aid you. He felt the need to get involved. So he did.
He didn’t let you answer the man's next question of what you had recently been up to, instead he grabbed hold of the side of your face, his fingers dipping into the nape of your neck as he pulled you into him. He grinned smugly at the worried glance you threw his way before connecting your lips together.
The kiss was hesitant at first.
Taking into account this was your first shared kiss together since the breakup, it felt both natural and unusual to be kissing him again, but as the seconds passed you found yourself relaxing in his hold and began kissing him back with much more force.
You lost yourself in the moment, the idea of your ex boyfriend watching you make out with your other ex boyfriend didn't even cross your mind. You solely focused on the way Sebastian’s lips felt against yours after such a long time apart. He was addicting.
Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, blushing slightly at the sheepish look he threw your exes way. “What were you saying, mate?” he confidently asked.
The feeling of his palm burned against your cheek and you couldn't even bring yourself to look at Brad, but you didn't need to as he just stumbled away, clearly intimidated by Sebastian.
There was no need for you to say anything to Seb - if the way you were teasing him earlier on in the evening was of no indication to how you felt about him - then the lustful look you were giving him now certainly was.
He immediately pulled you back into him, your lips reconnecting in a lustful kiss. With no more awkwardness surrounding the two of you, you found yourself enjoying it even more.
Moving one of his hands down your body, Sebastian forcefully squeezed your bum which emitted a gasp from you, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss. He pressed his body against yours and your hands raked across it, feeling his muscles flex against your hands.
You moaned into his mouth the minute he dug his hips into you, the feeling of his body so close to you bringing you back to when the two of you dated. Confusion filled you when he pulled away, ending your lovely make out session and disappointing you tremendously. “Don't start what you can't finish, love” he warned, leaning down to scatter kisses across your chest, nipping and licking at every exposed area.
“Who says I can't finish this?” you remarked, grinning at the way his eyebrows rose at your statement.
“Look around us, darling” he stood up straighter, craning his neck to glance from side to side, taking into account the multiple people surrounding the two of you. Hundreds of people filled the room, hundreds of eyes that could possibly witness something. Hundreds of reasons why the two of you shouldn't get ahead of yourselves. But then again, when he looked back at you and the playful pout that crossed your features - he found himself making up a hundred different reasons as to why it was such a brilliant idea.
“But then again,” he continued, leaning closer to you in order to whisper in your ear, “that's never stopped us before.”
A shiver ran up your spine at his words, images flashing through your mind of previous encounters the two of you had in the most inappropriate areas. Cutting your daydream short, Sebastian grabbed hold of your hand and guided you up the stairs to the more secluded vip area.
The bouncer merily glanced at Sebastian before lifting the red velvet rope and letting the two of you in. Nodding a small thanks to the man, he continued his journey into the dimly lit area, a content hum leaving his lips at the sight of a small booth in the corner.
He sat down on the plush seats and you fell down to sit on top of him, the lower half of your body covered by the wooden table in front of you. Sebastian wasted no time in kissing your neck, unable to detach himself from your skin for more than a few moments.
Your head fell back onto his shoulder, watching the small group of people ahead of you dancing and laughing at each other caused a blush to quickly creep up your cheeks. The thought if anyone witnessing your antics both embarrassing and exciting you.
“Are you sure you want to do this, liebe?” Seb questioned, he placed his finger on your cheek and forced you to look at him as he spoke. “Because once we start, I won't be able to stop.”
“And why would I ever want you to stop?” you shot back, pressing your bum further into him to prove your point. Sebs eyes scanned the area, having seemingly decided the risk of getting caught was worth it, he ran his fingers up your thigh, under your skirt and into your underwear.
His other hand trailed the opposite direction, moving up your body to gently squeeze your breast. You arched your back at the sensation, your ass moving further into him and a harsh squeeze being delivered as a result.
Slipping a finger into you, his hand flew away from your breast to clamp over your mouth, muffling the sudden moan that escaped you. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. There's people around us,” he reminded.
He littered gentle kisses up your neck and you could feel his smirk against your skin at the shaky breath you let out the minute he slipped a second finger into you. “I don't think anyone else deserves to hear your moans, darling.”
You hummed against his hand, wetness pooling at his words and your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb began to circle your clit. “Move up for a second, liebe,” he demanded once he removed his fingers from you. Having no other option but to comply, you braced your hands against the table and stood up on shaky legs. You patiently waited as Sebastain undid his belt, the sound of the metal coming undone bringing a newfound wetness to your core.
“Ready?” he questioned, moving his hand up and down your thigh to comfort you. You nodded your head, biting harshly on your lip, you quickly glanced behind you and yet another shaky breath tumbled from your lips at the sight you beheld.
Sebastain was sprawled across the couch with his dick barely covered by your body. The sight of him shamelessly sitting there did something to you and before you lost your confidence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto him.
“Keep quiet now,” he reminded once you took all of him in. Your hands gripped onto the table in front of you, your knuckles quickie turning white as you used it as leverage to start moving.
The sound of your skin hitting against sebastians was muffled by the laughter of the crowd and the loudness of the msic booming across the grand club. “I'm trying,” you grunted.
You slowly bounced on him, trying to keep your movements small and inconspicuous to the people around you. But Sebastian could only last so long without needing to take over. A moan accidentally escaped you once he began thrusting his own hips upwards to meet yours. In response to your foolishness, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking not so gently on it as a warning and forcing you to look at the dim lights hanging above you instead of the people ahead of you.
Holding onto your body he quickly steadied you, forcing you to halt your movements as a random man walked up to the two of you. You shifted in his hold and attempted to reposition yourself to look more natural towards the stranger. You just wanted it to seem like you were cuddling the driver, not bouncing on his dick.
One of your arms wrapped around his neck while the other laid on his chest. You spared a quick glance downwards, making sure your skirt covered everything before looking back up at the man. Sebastian greeted him, admittedly not poilelty, but he greeted him nevertheless. It only took a few seconds for the two of you to realise he was a fan and by the looks of it, would do anything to hold a conversation with the Sebastian Vettel.
You couldn't help but move on his lap, the need for friction overwhelming you after staying put for several minutes. You slowly began rolling your hips, your heart racing at the sudden release of pressure and also at the fact you were grinding on him with a fan of his only a few feet away.
Sebastian cleared his throat, trying desperately to pay attention to the man in front of him and not on how good you felt clenching around him. His hips unintentionally runted up into you, muttering a quick curse under his breath he grimaced at the man, cutting his sentence short as he gestured towards you. “If you wouldn't mind,” he sympathetically commented.
“Right, right sorry,” he mumbled, “Enjoy your night.”
He soon scrambled away from view and Sebastian began carelessly thrusting into you again. You returned to your original position, now resting your head against the table, thankful for the pleasure filling your whole body. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on the nape of your neck and were almost certain you looked a mess but you couldn't have cared as you got nearer and nearer to your peak.
This new angle allowed Sebastian to take control of your activities. He guided your hips back and forth, not paying attention to the movement of the table nor the attention that the two of you could possibly bring your way. All he wanted was to bring you to your release. “Are you going to cum for me, darling?” he whispered. You nodded against the table, the coolness of the wood reliving your flushed cheeks as you felt the knot begin to release in your stomach.
You moved your hand to grip onto his thigh, “I'm gonna-” you mumbled, unable to finish your sentence as he gripped onto the back of your neck and forced you to sit up straight. His fingers immediately fell down your throat in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. You whimpered loudly at his show of dominance, your attempts to keep quiet failing profusely as he hurried his movements.
His fingers moved further down your throat as your walls clenched around him. Before you knew it you were spilling yourself against Sebastain. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head and heat filling your body as he followed in your actions.
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atlabeth · 3 years
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because i love you - spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: spencer has a best friend in one of the secretaries at the office, but after a case nearly goes very wrong, he can't seem to figure out why she's mad at him.
a/n: hey yall..,. this is my first cm fic and i dont know if im gonna write another one but. im dipping my toes into the water. im going. im not confident in my ability to write these characters at all but its cool. its chill. its aight. is it? idk. i wrote this very quickly and it is NOT proofread so i apologize if it's a fucking mess lmao!
warning(s): cursing, mentions of violence on past cases, y/n and spencer both being little shits, argument between them but it all ends in fluff <3
wc: 2.5k
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Spencer could tell that you were mad at him.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out — the way that you avoided him in the office, how short you were with him when you actually did talk to him, you just ignoring him as a whole unless it was related to business? He hated it.
Just this morning, he had entered Garcia’s office to ask her about something regarding a detail for one of his files, and you had been in there chatting with her. When you had spotted him, you had made up some shoddy excuse, dropped off the papers in your hands, and gotten out as quickly as possible.
(“Garcia, do you know what’s wrong with her?” he asked, brows furrowing as he watched you leave.
Penelope sighed as she thumbed through the papers, shaking her head in the process. “Reid, you’re going to have to ask her yourself. I love you, but this is something you have to work out on your own.”
“Garcia—! She’s been avoiding me ever since that last case, but I don’t know what I did wrong. I just want us to get back to normal because this— I don’t like this.”
She sighed as she set the stack of papers on her desk and turned to him. “Reid, as much as I wish I could help you, this is your responsibility.” Her eyes twinkled as she gave him a smile. “Trust me though — I think you’ll be surprised with how it works out.”)
A secretary and an agent — the two of you were a bit of a rare pair around the BAU, but it was a much appreciated friendship on both sides.
Spencer didn’t know how it had taken him so long to meet you, but the first time he laid eyes on you? The easiest word for how he had felt was enchanted. You were beautiful, there was no question about it, but he told himself that you were completely out of his league. Women who looked like you — he had seen enough in college to know that he didn’t stand a chance.
But despite that, he found himself talking to you more and more whenever you had papers to give to him, or whenever you passed by his desk. One night, the two of you were both knee deep in paperwork when almost the entire rest of the office had left; it was a very long four hours after closing hours that you had ended up leaving.
Spencer had finished his in half the time. He stayed so he could keep talking to you as well as keep you company. It was then that he knew he would never be satisfied with just friends — but because there was no way you reciprocated his feelings, it was something that he would have to settle for.
(But really, being friends with you wasn’t settling for anything. No time with you was ever enough, so anything he could get was something he was happy with.)
The more the two of you talked, the more you clicked. You never shut him down on his info dumps, you actually encouraged him to continue — a very welcome first — and you never treated him any differently or made him feel ashamed about the parts of himself others had put him down for.
You made it very clear that you liked every part of him, and soon enough, Spencer Reid had found a dear friend in one of the BAU’s secretaries — or his ‘favorite secretary’, the way you jokingly referred to yourself. If only you knew how true that statement was.
All of this — it was why Spencer couldn’t stand you being mad at him. The two of you had been fine before he left for that case and fine when they all came home, but the next day? Something was wrong, and with the way that you were avoiding him, it looked like Penelope was right. This was something he would have to figure out on his own.
-
“He what?”
Derek sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned against the countertop. “Pretty boy took off his vest while he was trying to deflate the situation — said that it was the only way the unsub would trust him. Reid trusts in the profile more than he should sometimes, and we thought that this guy wouldn’t shoot, but he did. If he didn’t have such shitty aim, then it most likely would’ve gotten him—” he tapped the side of his torso, “—here. He’s lucky it missed. It… it would’ve been bad.”
“God,” you muttered, the coffee in your grip becoming increasingly less appetizing. “I— I can’t believe him. Why would he do that? You— you have those Kevlars for a reason, why would he—?”
Derek shook his head. “No idea. I just… thought you deserved to know. Pretty boy wasn’t going to tell you, and— well, I know that something like this is important to you. You ever gonna tell him how you feel?”
You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as you elbowed him, your anger at Reid temporarily forgotten. “I have no idea what you mean, Morgan. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some— some papers to get to.”
He laughed as he took a step aside to give you room, but his expression softened a bit. “Just— go easy on him, okay?”
You sighed and spared a glance back at him. “No promises.”
-
It had been almost two weeks of this. Almost two weeks straight of no casual talking, no hanging out by his desk in your free time, no lunch breaks spent together, no coffees, nothing. It was driving him crazy. And of course, this was when they didn’t get any cases. Spencer didn’t even have a cross country trip to get this off his mind, or a way to avoid your avoiding of him.
Every time he tried to talk to you, he got nowhere. A mumbled excuse would get you away, or you would suddenly have to print something out right that minute, or there was a phone call you really had to get to. Spencer didn’t know how he was supposed to fix something when he didn’t know what he had done wrong.
But one morning, he was prepared. Spencer was tired of this silent treatment, and he was going to break it one way or another. He had seen you leave Hotch’s office with a stack of papers, and he knew that this was his one chance.
He had gotten up from his desk and all but ran through the bullpen, not even bothering to take the steps as he turned down the hallway, managing to catch you right on the turn. Your eyes flicked up briefly before returning to the end of the hallway, your destination much more interesting than anything Spencer had to say.
“Y/N—” Spencer started, but you cut him off before he could get anything out.
“I don’t have time to talk right now,” you responded curtly.
“You’re walking down a hallway. Besides, you were just with Hotch, so I assume that you’re taking those to Agent Johnson— he was in his office last night, so they’re obviously dealing with something together. You have approximately two minutes and thirty seconds before you get there, so you have enough time to listen to what I have to say.”
“Fine. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Come on!” he pleaded, each of his steps matching two of yours. “Why are you mad at me?”
“I’m not.” You didn’t look up your papers, trying to speed up your pace to get away from him, but with the legs that Spencer had it was hopeless. Right when you were about to turn the corner, he stepped in front of you and blocked your way. The absolute nerve.
“What are you doing?” you fumed, finally forced to make eye contact.
“I want to know why you’re mad at me,” he repeated. “I know you are, you know you are — ever since the last case, you’ve been completely ignoring me on anything other than official business. You’re— you’re avoiding me, and I don’t like it.”
“I’m surprised you don’t already know,” you said, the bitterness not lost on him. “You know, IQ of 187 and all.”
“Look!” he exclaimed, growing more irritated by the second with your beating around the bush. “If— if I did something wrong, then I’m sorry—”
“If you did something wrong?” you scoffed. “God, you are so— ugh!”
Your eyes darted around to ensure that you were alone, then you grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty conference room. You let go of him then stalked to the other side of the room, dropping your papers on the table to cross your arms.
Spencer looked down at the wrist that you had dragged him in there with and pulled down his ruffled sleeve before fixing you with a disgruntled look. “Well? Are you gonna tell me what your problem is?”
“My problem is you!” you cried, letting one arm loose to gesture with it. “Spencer, you almost got shot!”
“But I didn’t,” he countered. “Things like that are part of the job, you know that. And how did you even know?”
“I—” you paused and pinched the bridge of your nose, muttering curses under your breath. "Morgan told me, but I really wish it had come from you. And I know it’s the job, but you— it’s like you don’t even care, Reid! You just— how many times have you taken off your goddamn vest while trying to talk down an unsub? How many times have you put yourself into danger when you didn’t need to?”
“Around—”
“Don’t answer that!” you interrupted. You pressed the heel of your hand against your forehead and screwed your eyes shut for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “You can’t keep doing that, Spencer!”
“Doing what?” he demanded, taking a step closer in what you took as a challenge. “You— you keep saying how mad you are at me, but you won’t tell me anything about it! How do you expect me to fix anything if you don’t—”
“You can’t keep being so careless!” you yelled, cutting him off once more. “You can’t keep throwing yourself into danger without a second thought!”
“I told you, it’s the job!” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and shook his head, letting loose a long exhale. “Every time I get on that plane, something could happen — you know that. Why— why don’t you treat anyone else like this anytime they do something stupid?”
“Because I love you!”
You immediately clamped your hands over your mouth after the words fell from your lips, taking an instinctual step back as both of your eyes widened.
You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot, god, you’re a fucking idiot — what the hell was wrong with you?
Your crush on Spencer Reid was a secret that you worked very hard to keep, considering that you were constantly surrounded by profilers and nosy people alike almost all hours of the day. It had become something you were aware of about a week after you had met, the very first time that he brought you a coffee. From there, you were doomed to fall completely head over heels for the doctor, despite him showing no signs of reciprocating your feelings.
Luckily for you, Spencer seemed to be completely oblivious to it. Unluckily for you, Spencer seemed to be completely oblivious to it.
But now? Now, there was nothing you could do. You had already started writing your letter of resignation in your head as you stared into each other’s eyes, your own wide with mortification and Spencer’s with something unreadable.
“...you love me?” He posed it like a question, something you thought was completely ridiculous with how you had just made a fool of yourself. Any words were stuck in your throat, so all you could do was nod.
He stood there in silence, the seconds feeling more like years, before he took a step closer. Now more than ever you were focused on his eyes, the way that they stayed trained on your face the entire time, drifting down to your lips for just a second before returning.
Before you knew it, he was standing right in front of you. Spencer placed a finger underneath your chin and tipped it up slowly before meeting your lips in a kiss that you had most definitely not imagined happening before. You returned it eagerly, but it took you a few seconds to register what was actually happening.
“I, uh— I love you too.” He was still so close to you, the proximity already causing your breath to stop, and you were sure that you could’ve passed out with those four words. “And I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
“You… you do?” Any early fury had been extinguished, replaced with confusion, awe, and the unmistakable feeling of being loved.
He loved you.
“Ever since that first day,” he admitted. Spencer’s hand slowly fell back to his side as he took a cautious step back, as if he was doubting his sudden boldness. “I... I knew it after the first night with all that paperwork.”
As a sigh fell from your lips, a huge weight on your shoulders dissolved as well. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “For getting mad at you, and avoiding you. But… you get it, don’t you? Why I worry so much?”
Spencer nodded. “I think about you all the time in the field. It— the thought of you, it keeps me going when things are hard. And I always think about how glad I am that you’re back here, away from all the danger. That’s how it is for you, right?”
A small smile formed as you echoed his sentiment. “Exactly. There are so many people that care about you, Spencer, and I’m one of them. Every time you get hurt, it hurts me too. And I don’t want to lose you, so… just be more careful, okay?”
“I will.”
The earlier silence returned — neither of you really knew what to do at that moment. You idled for a second before you picked up your papers from the table, and with a slight push up onto your toes, you kissed him once more. Soft, short, and sweet — but the unsaid promise of more in the future had Spencer smiling into it.
“I, um— I actually do have to get these to Agent Johnson. This has made me really late, but…” You found yourself laughing softly; this whole thing had left you giddy. “But I’ll see you at lunch. Maybe we can grab a coffee and talk about this whole thing.”
“I’d like that,” he said, his smile seemingly stuck on his lips. You felt your cheeks heat up as you returned it, and his eyes remained trained on you as you walked out.
His job was hard, there was no question about it. But you… well, you made it a lot easier.
Spencer considered himself the luckiest man alive to love and be loved by you.
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esther-dot · 3 years
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Concerning the books, apart from text suggesting both want to rebuild Winterfell, have a family and parallels in their journey, why do you think Jonsa will be book endgame?
Jon may be Sansa's type... But Sansa isn't his type. There's also the doubt whether Jon can get attracted to a girl who he saw as his sister plus also resembles his step-mother who loathed him. Ygritte had red hair and blue eyes but she reminded Jon of Arya, not Sansa. Also, he doesn't like ladylike women. Jon has already said that WF belongs to Sansa, so I don't see how they will have to marry because of politics(and if it comes out that he's Rhaegar's son, no one will support his claim and Sansa will be chosen anyway, in a scenario where Rickon dies).
If we consider Jonnel Stark/Sansa 1 parallels we will also have to think of Jonnel's brother Brandon Stark marrying Alys Karstark, which can't happen as Alys is married already.
You seem very calm and rational about this, so I don’t mind chatting about it with you, but I have to take a moment to enjoy the argument that Jonsa won’t happen because proper little Sansa can totally fall in love with her “brother” but what strains credulity is that a Targaryen could ever love his sister.
Anyway, in my opinion, the reason Jonsa will happen in the books is that Martin created his characters to say specific things, and regardless of how readers react to or interpret them, they will have certain endgames as a result. So, Sansa gets a romance (as uncomfortable as it makes us due to her age) because Sansa is not merely the character who believed in the songs, believed in love, but because Martin is talking about ideas of innocence and corruption, faith and disillusionment in her chapters, in her arc, and to answer his own questions, to affirm his own beliefs, Martin will answer Sansa’s, he will affirm Sansa’s. The point isn’t to give Sansa a hero simply because she wants one or I want her to have one, the point is much bigger than Sansa. It is the author who wants to believe in heroes, but how can he, or we, as adults who have lived and suffered, who have seen corruption and wars and endured personal wrongs and tragedies hold onto that? How can we have that hope when for most of us, growing up has taught us cynicism? I think these are things the author is talking about with Sansa, and the point isn’t that she (we) should accept that the monsters win or that life isn’t beautiful, or that all the good we believed before we knew better was a lie, the truth is simply more complicated, more painful. Life is harder than we understand when young, brutal even, but the good is still there.
That’s where the lines about songs, that famous line especially, come into Sansa’s story over and over:
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This is an idea that Martin is tracking across the series, and as horrible as things get for Sansa at different times, the story she is in, the story the author created, very much believes in heroes.
Jonsas get shit for pointing it out, but we have already seen Slynt beheaded ie the monsters don’t win in the end and wishes come true. Martin has already indicated that in spite of Sansa being surrounded by monsters for so much of her story, there are heroes, and one hero has already fulfilled her wish, almost a continent away. I understand that some fans find it obnoxious that the beautiful princess might get a hero, but if you put aside personal opinions about Sansa, I think you can understand why it’s inevitable that she will meet and be loved by her hero (the one the author already indicated, Jon) because the songs are not lies. Sure, the details may be inaccurate, the truth is far more complicated, but love and heroism, the things they celebrate are true. We all already know that there are true knights (Brienne), so we know Martin purposely writes all the negatives with one bright spot to say he does believe in these things, in spite of all the reasons not to. Sansa doesn’t know Brienne, she doesn’t know Jon chopped off Slynt’s head, but we know it. The author told us to keep hope. Now, the next thing that Sansa has lost hope for is someone marrying her for love, and if heroes exist, if true knights exist, what do you think the logical conclusion is? What do you think the author will do to tell his readers, this is the world I want to believe in. What do you think the author will do to tell the reader, I’m not mocking hope, I am not mocking the innocent, I am not LF telling my victims to resign themselves to cruelty? I think the author will say life is painful, but hope is beautiful and love matters.
Now, obviously, heroes rescuing maidens and all that fairytale stuff the fandom likes to pooh pooh when it comes to Sansa or Jonsa theories comes up in some ways in other character’s POVs, but what’s funny is that, it’s still associated with Sansa:
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In fact, Theon, the character Martin singled out as a foil to Jon, is the only other POV in which we get that famous line “life is not a song”
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and shockingly (or not so shockingly) that happens right before Theon is the hero, Theon tries to rescue the girl,
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The author couldn’t be any clearer in his “the character might not believe, but I am showing the readers that they’re wrong” schtick. To me, Sansa’s “no one will marry me for love” falls into that category. She loses hope, the author will restore it.
This is getting long, but I’ll still say a little about my boy. The fandom has a weird amnesia when it comes to a major revelation about Jon that is meant to impact how we view him.
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I have no idea where the “Jon doesn’t like ladies” talking point comes from when we have this quote in addition to his dreams of children, his desire to recreate his childhood. Jon wants the life that Ned had, that Robb was destined for, and he has lived with intense guilt and shame over that desire. You and I know that the picture in Jon’s mind, the dream that he thinks he will never have, the life he wants more than anything includes a lady wife.
There are things about Ygritte that remind Jon of Arya, but if you read the thing that specifically makes him attracted to her, makes him want her…
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The things that Jon finds attractive aren’t what remind him of Arya, and in fact, are the more ladylike aspects of Ygritte’s personality, the quiet moments, not her interest in fighting, but her singing. And if that isn’t enough, Jon’s fantasy is to enact Lord/Lady of Winterfell with her:
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I know Ygritte is a fan favorite, but Jon resists her advances as long as he can, eventually has sex with her all the while thinking if he doesn’t he would die, and while I think he genuinely comes to care for her, he also feels like fucking her as the FF do makes him no different than an animal. None of this indicates to the reader that this is what he wants because that sexual relationship wasn’t by choice, but we do have glimpses of what he likes, and then the admission of what he wants most, and I’m not sure why the fandom ignores that. Just because Jon is a softy who sees the good and bad in people doesn’t mean we’re meant to ignore Jon’s dreams. As a Jon fan, it bugs me that whitewashing Ygritte takes precedence over my boy’s feelings.
As for the Jonnel/Sansa thing (link), I don’t think the idea is that every ancestor is foreshadowing for their namesakes. The reason this couple raises eyebrows is because Martin went back and deliberately added them as that post explains. And with the factors he included in that scenario (link), it feels like a very self aware attempt to foreshadow canon, only this time, because of Robb’s will and the dire circumstances the North will be (the Others, Dany invading etc) Jon(nel) marrying Sansa might be in an effort to restore her rights, give Winterfell back to her, rather than take it. I’m more a fan of the secret marriage in the godswood even though she’s still technically married to Tyrion idea (because that’s young and dramatic), but the Jonnel/Sansa deal…there’s a lot of reasons to think that’s foreshadowing for a “political” marriage that is strangely, very acceptable to the kids. The biggest one being, Martin does have to resolve the issue of men marrying women for their claims/to usurp their power and that isn’t resolved by the idea of Sansa someday marrying some nobody. She has to marry someone we know loves her to resolve that issue. And luckily for us, we know a dude who could have usurped her and didn’t, and who will again be offered the chance to take Winterfell which might result in him refusing again or the positive version of the Jonnel/Sansa situation, marriage to empower Sansa, rather than take from her. Considering that’s what Jon arranged for Alys…there’s something there. I would like the Northern Lords to support Sansa’s claim, but it’s all dependent on who shows up when, what happens with Robb’s will, when Jon’s parentage is revealed, when Rickon and Bran appear…I think it’s far from certain that Sansa is QitN in her own right, my preferences aside. ☹️
So for me, it mainly comes down to what Martin is saying and there are many paths to get there, but the end result would be love affirming. Basically, if Sansa loses hope and says there are no true knights and Martin says there is, if she thinks there are no heroes and Martin says there is, if she thinks no one will marry her for love, I have no choice but to believe someone will.
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sukirichi · 3 years
Text
dutifully yours. [01]
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Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.
→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3
→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>
one | next (to be posted)
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Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.
The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.
“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.
You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”
“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.
“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”
At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”
“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”
“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”
Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”
Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”
Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.
With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”
“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”
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To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.
The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.
Everyone except you.
A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”
“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.
Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.
However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”
“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”
“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.
“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”
“I – Father, wait!”
A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”
God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”
She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”
Zen’in?
Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”
“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”
Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.
Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.
“He’s an ass, that’s why.”
“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”
“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”
“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”
Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Heard from whom?”
“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”
“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”
“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”
“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.
Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”
“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”
“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”
“Oh, uhm...”
“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”
You bowed once more. “My apologies.”
“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.
In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.
And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.
“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”
The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.
You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.
All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.
Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.
You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.
Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.
Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.
All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.
Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.
And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.
Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.
“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”
You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”
“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”
Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.
“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.
And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.
You’d never seen him smile this way before.
Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”
“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”
The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.
“We have met before?”
“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”
Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?
The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”
“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”
“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”
“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”
“Like what?”
“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”
Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”
You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.
“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”
Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.
You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”
The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”
Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”
“But I do not know you.”
“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”
“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”
The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.
“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”
“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”
“Your Highness...”
“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”
“But they’re looking.”
“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”
It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.
From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.
You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.
Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.
“Do I still make you nervous?”
Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”
“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”
“M-Marriage?”
“Close, but this is much better.”
If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.
Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.
The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.
Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”
Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.
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lazypeachsoul · 3 years
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you promise?
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Request: by anon “Could you write an Osferth drabble. About anything you'd like. Please and thank you.”
Warnings: Nothing.
Word count: 1,8k
A/N: Here's the first fic for The Last Kingdom Week! Hope you enjoy some sweet baby monk. I might have gone overboard with this story, but I can't help it when it comes to osferth. Enjoy 🌼
The streets of Cookham were bustling with workers returning home from the fields that surrounded the village. Thanks to Lord Uhtred and his fame the once forgotten town had become a stop for every merchant that traveled through Wessex and the workload had increased. And you were no different than any of those other people.
The sun was now setting and it was your time to return the children you minded back to their homes, where their overworked parents would take care of them. It wasn’t normal for common workers to have child minders, normally leaving the kids at home with their mothers, but Cookham was busier than ever and women were working the fields too. And that left you to take care of the little rascals that lived in town.
You had tried to work as a seamstress and at the alehouse, but nothing seemed to really suit you. Well, at least until you started taking care of the kids. You didn’t get much pay since the people you worked for were underpaid to begin with, but the little you got you saved for a new fabric, or a sweet treat or for those times you would meet Osferth at the alehouse and you wanted to prove him that you were a hard working woman.
And how you loved those times. Osferth seemed to always be busy either training or meeting with the rest of what had now been named the “Cookham squad”. Lord Uhtred and his loyal warriors were the talk of all Wessex and a great source of gossip for the entire town. Lord Uhtred and his beautiful wife Gisela took care of the people that lived inside their walls. Then there was Finan, the loud irishman who seemed to bring joy and fun to any occasion celebrated, always close to him was Sihtric, the mysterious dane who didn’t speak much but said a lot with just a look. And the last one was the monk who is not really a monk Osferth.
When you first met him you were trying to learn to become a barmaid and accidentally tripped on his foot, sending a pitcher of ale flying everywhere and leaving you both embarrassed and asking for mutual forgiveness. Since that moment, you had started to meet together at the alehouse every few days, providing you with a nice friendship but keeping all the rules a respectable young unmarried woman should follow.
And that’s exactly where you were headed after dropping your last child at home with his grateful mother. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the familiar blonde mop of hair sitting on one of the outside benches, and you had to admit to yourself that maybe it was more than just casual meetings at the alehouse. At that moment Osferth turned around and waved in your direction and with a small wave you made your way to the bench, sitting in front of him.
“I thought you didn’t see me, you looked distracted.” Osferth's sweet voice spoke and you had to admit he was right, you almost missed it because of your constant daydreaming about the man. But you couldn’t admit that.
“Excuse me, the children were wild and I’m extremely tired. Must be because of the nice weather.”
“Maybe we should meet another day, I wouldn’t want to tire you more Lady-” “No!”
You hadn’t been able to stop the agitated answer from coming out when you heard his dismissal. You were tired but never too tired to stop meeting Osferth. You could feel your cheeks hot with embarrassment and you tried to clear your throat to diffuse the tension.
“I mean, I would rather stay here with you and relax with a friend.”
Osferth’s face seemed to harden at your words but as soon as the barmaid brought you two cups of ale everything seemed to go back to normal, except for a small curious voice at the back of your head wanting to know why the expression changed.
“A friend. Of course. I enjoy the time we spend together too.” He nodded his head, his blonde hair falling in front of his eyes before taking a sip from his cup. “The weather is really nice so I wouldn’t blame the children. Lord Uhtred told us that the weather would turn nicer before we leave.”
You felt the ale you had been drinking get stuck in your throat but you tried to conceal it with a soft cough so as to not cause a scene in the packed alehouse. Leave? They were leaving?
“Are you leaving soon? You didn’t say anything before.”
“Lord Uhtred just confirmed it this morning. The King has requested the Lord’s help in some negotiations with the danes. He thought it best for us to accompany him since his history with the king is not the most amicable.”
You nodded along as he spoke but your brain was overworking itself trying to comprehend the situation. They were leaving to assist the King of Wessex and they would leave Cookham unattended for God knows how long. Of course the real reason you were worried was not the village, Lady Gisela could take care of it and more without a problem, you were worried about Osferth and you. Was there even an 'Osferth and you' to worry about?
“That’s...great that the King and our Lord are speaking again. Maybe it might help us get resources from the crown.” You tried to excuse your previous silence but it must have been obvious you were deep in thought because Osferth looked at you with a curious face. “And when are you leaving?”
“We’re expected to depart tomorrow morning. Apparently those matters are very important and require us to be there as soon as possible.” He shrugged in a move to downplay the entire situation.
Silence was the only thing that could be heard from your side of the bench, a deep contrast from the rest of the groups happily chatting and drinking. The table was silent but your mind was not, still overthinking every word your companion had said. You were overthinking so much that you almost missed his quiet voice.
“I am going to miss you.” Osferth spoke and as soon as you looked at him again he seemed to flush. “And our conversations. Or friendly conversations as...friends.”
You wanted to laugh at the poor man in front of you. In the many months you had known Osferth you had never seen him that flustered in his life, cheeks and ears bright red and a stuttering mess.
“I’m going to miss you too Osferth. And our friendly meetings.” You placed your hand next to his on the table next to his, not wanting to overstep and make the poor man more uncomfortable.
He moved his hand carefully almost imperceptibly until his fingers touched yours and a warm feeling ran down your entire arm from your hand. He seemed to be the one deep in thought at the moment and you almost wished you could pick at his brain to see what was going on. Is that how he felt every time you zoned out?
“Maybe you could remember me-” “Of course I’m going to remember you Osferth, don’t be silly. You are not going to war, only a mission for the king.”
A nervous chuckle was the only thing he could let out now and his reactions were starting to worry you a bit. If it was only a small trip he shouldn't have been that nervous.
“Let me finish. Maybe if I gave you something that you could remember me by, it would be easier.”
“You don’t have to do that, Osferth. I will remember you anyways.” You tried to reason with him but you couldn’t stop him from moving to look for something in the pockets of his robes.
After a bit of fussing with the robes he placed his closed fist on top of your hand, opening it just enough for something small and metallic to fall into your hand. Moving your hand closer you found a small fragile chain that seemed to have been at least as old as you.
“It’s not much, just a scrap of metal if you try to sell it. But it was my mother’s, the only thing I have from her. I hid it from the monks when I was growing up so they wouldn’t take it away. Carried it into battle with me every time I’ve fought too.”
Every single word of the explanation seemed to make your throat close a bit more and your eyes glossier. You knew Osferth had no real memories with his mother and you could imagine how important that bracelet must have been for him.
“I can’t accept it, it’s so important to you. Why would you give it to me?” You debated with your head shaking and trying to push the chain into his hand again. “Don’t be silly, Osferth. It’s your mother’s bracelet.”
“You must keep it. Please.” He kept his fist tightly closed to avoid you giving him back the piece of jewelry. “I want you to have it.”
“But I don’t have anything to give you in return.”
You kept trying to pry his fist open, all in vain because he wouldn’t even budge. You wanted to get up and hug him for such a meaningful gesture and hit him at the same time for wanting to part with such a meaningful piece.
“You have.” He spoke, grabbing your hand and halting your movements. “Maybe you can give me your promise.”
You looked at him curiously at what his proposal might be. Maybe he just wanted you to take care of Lady Gisela, you knew how he saw her as the mother he never had. Or maybe he wanted you to care for Lord Uhtred’s children.
“You can promise me that once I’m back from Wincester you will allow me to properly court you.” He explained and you felt your heart stop. “I-If you want, of course.”
Courting Osferth was not something you had thought about, mainly because you had nothing to offer. Your parents didn’t have fields or many resources they could offer a prospective husband. And Osferth was a warrior, so you thought settling down seemed to be out of the picture for him. But you had to admit the idea made your stomach turn in the best way possible.
You realized you had been thinking for a long time and still hadn’t given an answer when you felt him squeezing your hand. Could you promise him something like that?
“I promise.” Of course you could, the idea of a lifetime with Osferth only made you more excited about life. “Only you have to promise me to come back soon.”
He nodded with enthusiasm, moving his hands to take the small chain from your delicate hand and clasp it around your wrist. This mission hadn’t even started and you already wanted it to end.
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Taglist: @webreathfandoms @thebohemianpenguin @emilyhufflepufftlk @solinarimoon
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helloalycia · 3 years
Text
The Wrong Lifetime – Six // Wanda Maximoff
chapter five | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter seven
author’s note: i’m glad you all seemed to like the last chapter! i’m all for slow burn but i didn’t want to leave you hanging too long aha. Now onto dating territory!
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Since going to Blackpool with Wanda, we hadn't actually gotten another moment to ourselves. Wedding plans were picking up which kept her busy, and if not that, then I'd only see her in passing in which we'd exchange smiles before moving on.
So, I though it would be good to take her out on a date. A proper one, even if it was to be disguised as a simple outing between soon-to-be sister-in-laws. The plan was to 'bump' into her in town, which we did, then I asked her if she wanted to go to the art gallery. She'd been before, but they'd put in a new exhibition which I thought she might like.
We couldn't exactly hold hands when there, but I made the most of her presence and stood a little too close to her than a friend might. Since she'd kissed me at the beach, I wasn't able to think about anything else. And when shot me a knowing smile, I knew she felt the same.
"I like this one," I told her, pointing to a piece hung on the wall, before squinting to read the plaque. "Jedburgh Abbey from the River by Thomas Girtin."
"And why's that?" she asked, watching me with humoured eyes.
I pursed my lips, glancing between her and the painting sheepishly. "I'm not gonna lie, I just like the way the guy painted the clouds in the sky."
She stifled laughter, not wanting to draw attention from passers-by, and nudged me in the shoulder. "You're unbelievable, milaya (darling). We didn't have to come here if you don't like art."
I gave her a knowing look. "Hey, I love art. Especially when it's by a certain Sokovian artist named Wanda Maximoff."
Rolling her eyes, she shook her head. I grinned at her bashfulness, wanting to tease her but also very true with my words. Her work was my favourite, biased or not, and I still had that amazing portrait she'd done of me in my room back home. It was tucked into one of my drawers where nobody would find it. I didn't want anyone else to look at it since she'd done it for me and it was private... it was a beautiful reminder of the amazing day we'd had.
"You're poking fun, but in all seriousness, I'd actually love for my work to be up here someday," she said softly, looking at the painting before us with hopeful eyes. 
"They wish they were that lucky to score someone as talented as you," I said without skipping a beat.
She cracked a smile, tilting her head in my direction. It was obvious she was losing her patience with me, but I enjoyed watching her lose it. She didn't know what to say, especially when being complimented, and it was endearing to witness.
We remained civil for the remainder of the 'date', refraining from holding hands or gazing at each other longer than friends would, and I was pretty proud of myself for not thinking about kissing her once when we were done.
As we got into the carriage to go back home, the door closed and I was going to ask her how she found it when she moved towards me in an instant, kissing me without question. I raised my hand, caressing her jaw and closing my eyes as she leaned forward, practically on my lap, not that I cared. She sucked on my bottom lip sensually before she opened her mouth, pushing her tongue into mine. I almost forgot how to breathe as she did, unprepared for such an intense kiss.
"I've been wanting to do that all day," she revealed when she pulled away.
I flushed at the contact, a dazed smile on my lips. "Huh."
She chuckled as she sat back beside me more 'appropriately'. "Thanks for taking me. I loved it."
I nodded lamely, still trying to recover from our kiss. "I'm– I'm glad."
She smirked playfully, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to my lips before sitting back. "You're so cute."
My words still hadn't returned, so all I could do was nod before looking the other way. Her laughter filled the carriage and I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect.
After exchanging some more kisses and actually being able to hold hands without prying eyes, we reached Wanda's home and she invited me in for some tea. Sadly, that meant we had to let go of one another, but I think she'd given me enough to remember her by as we parted, and she must have thought the same, judging from the smirk she sent my way.
We sat on the patio outside to have some tea and biscuits, enjoying the sunshine and blue skies, a rare occurrence for England. We were chatting mindlessly when her brother decided to make an appearance, helping himself to a seat between Wanda and I.
"How lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Miss Y/L/N," he said playfully, shooting me a charming smile, before reaching to grab a biscuit. Wanda slapped his hand but he stole one anyway, making her roll her eyes.
"Nice to see you, Pietro," I greeted with amusement, always enjoying his presence.
"And you," he returned, before chowing down his biscuit.
Wanda gave me a fed up look over his shoulder which he was oblivious to, and I tried not to laugh as she clearly wasn't a fan of him interrupting our time.
"So, I caught a glimpse of the wedding invitations," Pietro said, making conversation. He glanced between us with a nod of approval. "They're coming along well."
I hummed in agreement, smile becoming less real when he mentioned the wedding. Wanda didn't acknowledge his words as she fiddled with the handle of her teacup.
"Is your brother behaving, Y/N?" Pietro continued jokingly, looking to me. "I know how many admirers he has, but my sister should be his first priority."
"Oh, Piet...," Wanda breathed out with embarrassment, facepalming.
"Of course he is," I assured her brother with a small smile. "He wouldn't dare try hurting Wanda or he'd have a lot of explaining to do."
There was some playfulness in my voice, but an underlying truth to my words.
"It's sweet how close you've gotten," Pietro noticed, looking between us, before settling his gaze on me. "It's about time Wanda made friends with people who aren't me."
Cue another slap. I chuckled at her sheepish expression, amused by Pietro's antics.
"Anyway," he changed the subject for his sister's sake, "mother has been getting on my very nerve about finding a bride because you decided to get married."
Wanda rolled her eyes. "We both know I didn't decide, Piet."
He sighed over-dramatically. "Well, it's because of your engagement that she's now on my back about it."
"Join the club," I joked, knowing exactly what he meant. "My mum was already on my back about finding a husband, but since this engagement, it's ten times more annoying."
Pietro laughed. "Oh, no. Has she lined up suitors? My parents like to point out every pretty woman they see to me in hopes I'll make a move. It's hardly productive."
"I haven't asked her for fear she'll pull out a folder with all of the eligible bachelors in town," I said, half joking and half serious.
Pietro snickered as Wanda rolled her eyes in the background. She should have been happy I was getting along with her brother. He was actually quite entertaining to be around.
"It's funny you say that because you're one of the women my parents pointed out," he admitted.
"Oh, God, so they're saying the same thing to you?" I asked with a groan, and he nodded regretfully. "Isn't it just the worst?"
"You're a lovely girl, Y/N, don't get me wrong," he began gently, "but I don't like you like that."
I raised my hand for a high five. "Me and you both."
Laughing once again, he returned my high five and I was glad we were on the same page. The amount of people that had been hinting at getting to know Wanda Maximoff's very single brother was getting pretty annoying. It was nice to know he was just as irritated at the insinuation as I was.
"Okay, I should leave you both to it," Pietro concluded, slapping his knees and standing up. Looking to me, he said, "Miss Y/L/N, it was as lovely as ever to make your acquaintance."
I smiled as he winked playfully before looking to his disgruntled sister.
"Dear sister, the pleasure is always mine," he continued to tease, and she slapped him once more, making him dodge her and begin to leave. "Love you, too!" he called before heading back inside.
I laughed at his silliness and relaxed in my seat, looking back to Wanda. She didn't seem half as amused as I was as she drummed her fingers on the table and chewed on the inside of her cheek.
"I may be mistaken, love, but it looks like you're jealous," I poked fun at her.
She rolled her eyes and her jaw tensed before she finally looked to me, expression softening. "Can you blame me?" she asked quietly. "You're both single. You're both similar age. Everybody talks."
I shrugged nonchalantly, having a sip of my tea. "True... but I've got my eye on another Maximoff anyway."
She sighed, small smile creeping on her lips. Subtly moving my chair closer to hers, I grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed. My thumb stroked her hand softly as I leaned on the palm of my hand on the table.
"You look really beautiful today," I admitted in a hushed voice. "I should have told you earlier."
She, too, leaned into the palm of her hand as she watched me with an enchanting gaze. "So do you, milaya (darling)."
Unable to resist, I glanced around quickly before kissing her cheek and pulling away. Letting go of her hand, I busied myself with the tea and biscuits again.
"Biscuit?" I offered her, and she began to laugh at my attempt at acting casual.
Playing along, she accepted the biscuit from my hand. But a knowing smile was on her lips as she nodded. "Thank you."
Being with Wanda was a luxury in itself, even if we had to keep it private.
To everybody else, we were merely two women about to become family who happened to create a bond that was close. But we both knew what it really was and weren't eager to say it. Because saying it made it true and that meant that what we were doing became realer than it was in our daydreams and hidden moments.
I did find myself wracked with guilt sometimes – particularly the times when Y/B/N would gush about how excited he was to marry her. Wanda was technically cheating on him with me, his sister, but that fact was something that was still blurry to me.
We had no choice but to lie and be secretive. In a world like this, where we would never be able to be together like we wanted to, all we had was secrecy and deception. Did that still make us bad people?
I tried not to think about what would happen when she actually married my brother. The future was something I was adamant on pushing to the back of my mind because I knew what it would hold and I just wanted to enjoy the time I had with her. Convincing myself that what we had wasn't serious, just a heat of the moment relationship maybe, made things easier to accept. But really, I knew that whenever she looked my way with her signature smile and dazzling eyes, it was way more than I envisioned. She was way more.
So, trying not to be dragged down with the weight of reality, I vowed to myself to only focus on the now. Focus on the moments I shared with her whilst we could. Anything beyond that and I'd surely snap.
"Medovyy (honey), the Y/L/Ns are here!" Iryna called behind her, before looking to my family and I as we stood at her front door. "Please, all of you, come in!"
She ushered us into the main hall before closing the door after us. Perfectly timed, the rest of her family left the living room and came to greet us.
Automatically, my eyes found Wanda's and she was already looking my way, her dimple making a show as she attempted to reign in an excited smile. I did the same, trying to ignore the way my heart stirred upon seeing her.
Oleg and Iryna welcomed my parents and then me, kind expressions accompanying genuine greetings. In the corner of my eye, I saw Pietro shaking Y/B/N's hand before Wanda took his place, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Y/B/N. It wasn't jealousy that I felt whenever they were together, at least not entirely – they were to be married, what more could I expect? – but it wasn't anything pleasant either.
"Ah, my favourite Y/L/N," Pietro beamed upon shaking my hand, making my lips twitch upwards. "You excited for dinner? We're having salmon."
"Ecstatic, Pietro," I answered with a playful eye roll. "All I've been thinking all day."
He chuckled at my sarcasm before letting go of my hand and moving over to greet my parents. Wanda was next, her shoulders relaxing when she stepped before me with a soft smile present on her lips.
"It's good to see you," she said, but her eyes said much more than that. "How have you been?"
Exchanging a friendly-looking hug, my body was warm where she pressed against me. Touching her always sent a rush of emotion through me and I looked forward to it every time.
"I've been good," I answered aloud, before whispering into her ear, "Better now."
She squeezed my waist inconspicuously in response before letting go. "That's good. You know, we've got time before dinner and I wanted to show you the painting I've been working on lately. Wanna see?"
I glanced at my parents and hers for permission, knowing they'd heard her question.
"Just try not to take too long since dinner will be on the table soon," Iryna said with a nod. "It's so good to see you girls getting along."
Breathing out slightly, I smiled gratefully before letting Wanda intertwine our fingers and drag me up the staircase. She led me past several doors before we finally reached hers and she tugged me inside.
As soon as the door closed, she was quick to connect our lips in a heated, desperate kiss. I relaxed against her instantly, my hands falling to her side and pulling her closer. Her fingernails gently scratched the sensitive skin behind my neck, giving me goosebumps, and I let out an involuntary gasp at the feeling.
When we pulled away for a breath, her nose brushed against mine and she pressed a final kiss to my lips, slower and more tasteful compared to the first, before smiling at me.
"I missed you," she said, as if reading my mind.
A breathy laugh escaped my lips. "It's only been a week since we last saw each other, love."
She shrugged, arms laced around my neck. "A week too long."
Raising a brow judgementally, I gave her a knowing look. She wasn't embarrassed in the slightest as her half-lidded eyes met mine with a confident smirk.
"Did you just pull me up here to have a quick snog?" I teased her.
"Well, yes," she said, making me laugh again, before adding, "And I wanted to ask you if you'll go to the park with me tomorrow. A picnic. If you want."
She bit her lip anxiously, eyes darting elsewhere as she waited for an answer. I always found it amusing how she could be so confident one second and then so innocently adorable the next.
"Wanda, I'd love to." My thumb rubbed circles on her waist as I kept ahold of her. "I hear it's supposed to be nice weather tomorrow, too."
She pursed her lips. "Even if it rained, I'd still drag you to the park with me."
"Somehow, I feel like that's true," I countered with a ghost of a smile on my lips. She tried to hide her own smile and I continued, "Was there an actual painting you wanted to show me or...?"
Breathing out with amusement, she intertwined our fingers and pulled me to the back of her room where her 'studio' was. Since the last time I'd visited, there were plenty of new additions to her work, all as wonderful as the next.
"This one is from the beach at Blackpool," she said, stopping before a medium-sized canvas depicting the horizon. "When we sat on the bench. Just before I kissed you."
My heart fluttered at the memory and I studied the canvas, recalling it looked similar to her watercolour painting of the same view. She'd done a spectacular replica in oil paints, reminiscent of the trip we took.
"You should already know what I'm going to say," I said, looking to her knowingly. "But just so you can hear it again, I absolutely love this. You're so talented."
She rolled her eyes to distract from the pink spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you... and again, thank you for taking me. Seeing an actual water source upfront really helped me refine my paintings. It feels so much more real now."
I looked back to the painting, noticing what she meant. Either way, I loved both versions of her work, before and after going to the beach.
"You did good, love."
She squeezed my hand gently before sighing quietly with realisation. "We should probably go back down."
"We should," I agreed, glancing at her. "Thanks for showing me these."
She cracked a smile, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. "Always."
Reluctantly, the two of us returned downstairs and joined the others as they were settling at the dining table. Wanda and I sat side by side, and this time when her fingers brushed mine, I made no move to pull away.
The meal was good, but as usual, I found myself zoning out. The conversation made its rounds, falling to me as the Maximoffs wanted to know how I was doing, then moved on, giving me chance to focus on eating my dinner and getting through the evening. I knew that at one point, everybody was talking about some play that was showing in the theatres.
Bits of the conversation were going in one ear and out the other and I was minding my own business until Wanda's bare foot rubbed against my leg under the table. The sensation of her skin against mine made my knee bounce up and hit the table with surprise, earning everyone's attention.
"Are you okay, dear?" Oleg asked, noticing my discomfort.
I cleared my throat, straightening up and ignoring the stifled smile Wanda had in my peripheral vision.
"I'm good, sorry about that," I apologised awkwardly, shivering when she dragged her foot back down my leg. "You were talking about the play, right?"
That seemed to distract them, as they leapt right back into conversation, giving me a chance to breathe out with relief. I looked to Wanda, watching her lean on her palm and hide a smirk as she stared at me with mischievous eyes.
Glaring and nudging her in the arm subtly, I looked back to my food, but she didn't move her foot, nor her hand. Both brushed my against me, starting a fire on my skin and making me swallow hard. She kept like that for the whole evening, making my head dizzy and leaving me at a loss for words.
And when I looked her way, she was already staring, definitely knowing the effect she had on me.
"I just need to find my shoes and we can go," I told Wanda the next morning, before our date at the park.
She'd come to pick me up at my house and was hanging around my room as I finished getting ready. From her place at my desk, she hummed in acknowledgment before distracting herself with my notebooks.
"I see you're making great use of the notebook I picked out for you," she commented, and I glanced towards her mid-search for my shoes, seeing she was flicking through the already-filled book.
"I have a lot of ideas, what can I say?" I joked, before looking under the pile of clothes near my wardrobe.
She chuckled, before falling quiet again. I wasn't really paying attention to what she was doing until she spoke up after a few minutes.
"Y/N, your writing is beautiful," she said, making me look her way to see an amazed smile on her lips. "I didn't know you could write like this. I mean– I should have because you helped write that letter Y/B/N gave to me, but this..."
I shrugged awkwardly, distracting myself with my search again. "It's okay, I guess."
She exhaled mockingly. "Okay? Y/N, this is miles better than okay. Why didn't you show me this sooner?"
I smiled satisfactorily as I finally located my shoes. Grabbing them, I approached Wanda and took a seat on the edge of my bed, opposite her seat at my desk.
"Because it'll never be anything more than what you're looking at?" I said rhetorically. "It'll only ever be words confined to pages that nobody will see?"
She gave me a knowing look. "I think you forget that my brother is a publisher, dorogoy (dear)."
"And I think you forget that he is the publisher to my brother, dear," I retorted playfully.
She sighed, shaking her head and putting the notebook back on my desk. "You know Pietro would love this, right? He'd sign you in a heartbeat."
I snickered at the ludicrous thought. "Wanda, you're a little biased, love."
She rolled her eyes. "Writers write for audiences. I am an audience. I consume literature. And I'm telling you that it's not just me who would read what you have to write."
I tried not to laugh as I pulled my shoes onto my feet.
"Are you really telling me that you'd never want to get published?" she asked with a raised brow.
My heart ached at the thought of such a fantasy. "Of course I would, Wanda." I met her eyes, which were already peering across from me patiently. "I've dreamed of that. But it's just not what's to happen. My family have told me that many times. In another lifetime, maybe."
She pursed her lips, studying me thoughtfully. I offered her a smile and stood up, holding out my hand.
"Forget that," I told her. "I believe you promised me a picnic."
Thankfully, she dropped the subject and accepted my hand, letting me pull her up. The topic wasn't brought up again and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
We went to the park like she wanted and she brought a picnic basket with her, having packed a lovely variety of finger foods and snacks.
As she was unpacking the food onto the blanket, I narrowed my eyes at her. "You know, now that we're finally alone, I can say how unfair it was of you to do what you did last night."
She played dumb, shrugging, focusing on neatening up the sandwiches on a plate. "I don't know what you mean, milaya (darling)."
"Huh. Sure you don't."
Giggles flew from her lips as she glanced at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just love seeing you squirm. You get all tense and it's so cute."
I pursed my lips. "I figured. You've been watching me squirm since we met."
She grinned knowingly before straightening up. "Okay, I made sandwiches and there's also some coleslaw, fruit, cheese... I made some Sokovian dishes, too, if you want to try them. Okroshka – it's like a cold soup. Then there's this olivye salad. It's... well, salad."
I smiled at the thought she put into it all and grabbed her hand between us. We'd set the picnic out behind a tree so we wouldn't have curious eyes watching us. It didn't look like we were overtly hiding, but we still got our privacy, too.
"It all looks great, Wanda," I said with appreciation. "I can't wait to try it."
She squeezed my hand in response before letting go to grab some paper plates. After popping a strawberry in her mouth, she asked, "Do you just want a bit of everything?"
I leaned on the back of my hands as I hummed a 'yes'. She began to put me some food in and I watched her, admiring the sight.
Her hair was half-pulled back today, falling in waves down her back and exposing her perfectly sculpted jawline. Everything about her was perfect – the way she moved was elegant and graceful, even when her hair fell over her shoulder and in her way; she simply moved it back with a flick of her hand and resumed what she was doing. The sun caught her immaculately, her hair glowing bright under the light and her eyes magnificently green as they focused.
As always, she took my breath away.
"Here," she said, holding out the plate towards me and pulling me from my reverie.
I accepted the plate and fork, returning her smile, before she watching as she began to make another plate for herself.
"You sure this is fancy enough for you?" I asked jokingly, stabbing my fork into a carrot. "I heard you and my brother went to a very luxurious restaurant the other night."
She met my eyes, holding amusement in her own. "Jealousy doesn't look good on you, milaya (darling)."
I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes. "I'm not jealous, I just– it's so annoying listening to him talk about how beautiful you are or how funny you are or how kind you are."
"Oh, so you don't think I'm any of those things?" she teased, trying to get a rise out of me.
I titled my head towards her. "Of course I know you're all those things. But it doesn't mean I like hearing him talk about it constantly..."
Clearly amused, she erupted into laughter and I felt my face heating up with embarrassment. I know it sounded like I was whining, but it was true. Sometimes, I wasn't envious of my brother but rather at the fact that he could actually take Wanda out properly. He could be seen with her in public and hold her hand without fear of getting looks or disowned. He had the privilege of being with her and it wasn't fair.
"You may hear him talk about it, but there's one thing I can assure you that you get that he doesn't," she said when recovering from her laughter.
I stared at her with an exasperated sigh. "And what's that?"
She smiled confidently, glancing around quickly, before leaning forward and kissing me softly. As quickly as it came, it disappeared, leaving me desiring more.
Licking my lips, I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. "You know, you're a really good kisser."
She chuckled at my reaction and I found myself leaning in again, entranced by the way she tasted. Putting my plate to the side, I raised a hand to pull her closer, getting better access to her mouth.
She tasted sweet like the strawberry she'd just eaten and I swiped my tongue across her lip, indicating I wanted her to part her them. She did, allowing me to slip my tongue in and wrestle with hers, revelling in the way she tasted. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest as she let out a moan, it reverberating in my mouth and giving me goosebumps.
When lack of oxygen became an issue, she pulled away breathlessly, flushed cheeks adorned with a smile.
"As lovely as that was, I actually want to eat what I made," she ridiculed playfully.
"Yes, we will," I assured her, my hand moving from her neck up to her jaw. My thumb touched her lips, outlining them tenderly, subconsciously committing them to memory. "We'll get back to it."
She wanted to laugh, but I moved forward and caught her bottom lip between mine, unable to stay away. It was wrong, the rush I felt in my gut and the warmth that spread all over my body and the tingles that travelled down my spine. Because I knew what it all meant, but admitting it was a different story. So, I didn't.
I just continued to kiss the girl before me, knowing I could have kissed her forever and not regretted a single thing.
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drabbles-mc · 3 years
Text
Hurricane
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Inspired by This Song and Day 26 of the July Prompts: hurricane
Warnings: angst, language, alcohol
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: I couldn’t separate the word prompt from the song so it ended up being a little bit of a mashup here for Day 26 lmao. I hope you guys enjoy it!
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You’d been going back and forth with your friends for the past few days. They desperately wanted you to come out with them, saying that you had spent enough time at home wallowing and now it was time to get back out into the world. You knew that it was coming from a good place, but you also didn’t really think you were ready for the bar and club scene again just yet. Plus, it was a small town and there was no guarantee that Angel wouldn’t be there with the guys.
The last time that you’d talked to them, you told them that you were sitting this one out, that maybe you’d be up for joining them next weekend. They weren’t happy about it per se, but they also knew that it wasn’t like they were going to show up on your doorstep and drag you out with them. So that was the end of the discussion, and the group-chat delved into other topics.
However, as the evening wore on and you were sitting on your couch at home, you couldn’t help but to rethink your decision. As much as you enjoyed your alone time and solitude, it might do you some good to go and be with your friends. It wasn’t like you had to get shitfaced, or throw yourself at the nearest available target. It was possible to just go out and socialize for a couple hours to remind yourself that you could still do it. With a sigh, you got up off the couch and made your way to your room to pull together an outfit. Something simple, but cute. You pulled your hair and makeup together and before you knew it, you were taking off out the door in hopes that the evening was going to go better than the scenarios in your head.
Meanwhile, Angel got basically bullied into going out with the guys for the night. Gilly was about one more argument away from strapping Angel to the back of his bike and driving him out himself. Angel was outnumbered and he knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d be ruthless with his friends as well. So even though he didn’t want to, he rolled out with the rest of them.
The relief that flooded through him when he walked into the bar and didn’t see you was immeasurable. His heart dropped into his stomach at first when he saw your friends, but once he realized that you weren’t with them, he was able to relax a little bit. He was still a little nervous as he approached the guys, not in the mood to catch flack from all of your friends, but they were surprisingly cordial. If you were there it might’ve been a different story, but he was taking his wins where he could get them.
He and the guys were locked into a competitive game of pool. Your friends had migrated to a different part of the bar, and it helped Angel breathe a little easier. Meanwhile, a few different women had begun to hang around the pool table, clearly trying to shoot their shot with Angel and the other guys that were with him. The guys were eating it up, and Angel wished that he could’ve been more enthused about it, but he had no real interest in entertaining any of it.
Just as he was about to take his next shot, the door to the bar opened and he instinctively looked up to see who it was. He wished that he hadn’t, though—the air immediately got sucked out of his lungs when he saw you walk through the door. You looked more beautiful than he remembered, if that was even possible. He could see it on your face that you weren’t totally committed to being there, the same way he was.
“Take your shot, bro, c’mon,” Gilly snapped him out of his daze.
“Shit,” Angel shook his head and tried to focus on the game, but his mind was already too far gone. He missed his shot, and it cost him and Coco the game. He didn’t even really notice EZ and Gilly celebrating their win as he put the pool stick down and headed towards the bathroom, needing a minute or two out of the noise and chaos to get his head back in order.
When he walked back out, he saw you standing by the bar talking with EZ. You sipped on your drink and nodded as you listened to whatever his brother was saying, and every single emotion that he had been trying to stuff down came back up. He clenched and unclenched his hands a few times, trying to steady them. There was no way that he was going to get out of this without talking to you, acknowledging you somehow. It seemed so effortless for you, like it cost you nothing to stand there and talk to Ezekiel, meanwhile just the sight of your friends earlier in the evening almost made him turn around and walk out of the bar.
Deciding that he couldn’t put it off any longer, he made his way up to the bar and landed next to EZ. You saw him coming from the second he walked out of the bathroom, but you chose not to make it awkward. You didn’t want to seem like a majority of your attention was really on him while you were talking to Ezekiel. However, now that he was standing in front of you, you couldn’t quite peel your eyes away from him.
“Hey, Angel.”
“Hey, Y/N,” he tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, “Didn’t think I was gonna see you here.”
“You almost didn’t,” you let out a quiet laugh, “Was a last-minute decision to join the party.”
He nodded, “Gotcha.”
EZ could feel the awkward tension in the air and he truly wanted no part of it. He had no problem talking with you, truthfully, he missed having you around. However, he wasn’t in the mood to have Angel lingering over his shoulder and into the conversation. So, with as much grace as he could, he excused himself and made his way back to Coco and Gilly. It left you and Angel standing there in front of each other, trying to figure out what the next move was going to be.
Letting out a small sigh, you sat yourself down on one of the barstools and nodded for Angel to join you, “Next round on me if you want,” you offered up a cautious smile.
His stomach was in knots but he took you up on the offer and ordered another beer as he sat down next to you. There was a small stretch of uncomfortable silence, neither of you really knowing what a safe topic to talk about was. Angel’s feelings were resting on the tip of his tongue, and truthfully you weren’t in much better shape than he was.
“I see EZ made it through his Prospect stint,” you finally broke the silence, “The full patch looks good on him.”
Angel laughed, nodding, “Yea, made that vote by the skin of his fuckin’ teeth.”
You smiled and shook your head, “Lemme guess, you were the one who almost didn’t vote him in?”
A smirk crossed his face, an expression that you had been missing more than you cared to admit, “Is it that obvious?”
“If it didn’t mean that he’d have to spend a whole ‘nother year prospecting, would you have done it?” you asked with a laugh.
“Maybe,” he took a swig of his beer as he watched you laugh and shake your head.
The sound of your laughter nearly brought him to his knees. He didn’t know how long it had actually been since the last time he saw you smile and laugh, but it felt like it had been an eternity. Muscle memory was trying to take over and it took every ounce of self-control that he had to not reach out and try to hold you, to kiss you. He watched the way you drummed your fingers along the sides of your glass and all he wanted to do was reach out and take your hand in his own. But he couldn’t. You were mere inches away from him but it might as well have been miles if he couldn’t hold you the way that he wanted to.
“I won’t lie,” you said, your expression sobering a little bit, “I almost walked out when I saw that EZ and the guys were here. I, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see you.”
His felt his heart starting to beat faster in his chest, “What made you change your mind?”
You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink, “I miss you.”
Those three words washed over him like a tidal wave. It was everything that he had been wanting to hear from you for so long. He knew that it didn’t change anything or fix anything, but it suddenly felt a little easier to breathe.
“I miss you too,” he couldn’t even try to lie or downplay it—he wasn’t that good of an actor.
“Are you seeing anyone?” the question came out before you could stop it. You knew that it wasn’t any of your business, and that regardless of what his answer was it wasn’t going to change anything. But there was something in you that just needed to know.
“Nah,” he shook his head, eyes fixed onto his beer bottle, “You think I’d be out with these jokers if I was?” he nodded towards his friends with a laugh. There were a couple beats of silence before he asked, “You?”
You shook your head, “No.”
It felt like you should have some sort of a follow-up statement, but you didn’t. Part of you had almost wanted to lie and say that you were, just so you wouldn’t be confronted with the tension that you were now encompassed in. You were the one who called things off to begin with, and it felt wrong that you were so conflicted about it now, after so much time had gone by. It was too late to take back what you said then, or what you’d just told him now. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked anywhere but back at him. Part of you hoped that he would be smart enough, strong enough, to get up and walk away from where the situation was headed, but you knew that he wouldn’t be. You could spend the rest of your night staring at the glass in your hands and he would be next to you the entire time. For as much as you hated being away from him, he hated it even more.
“Do you still wanna be here, querida?” despite his voice being so quiet, you heard him perfectly through the noise of the bar.
You finally looked back over at him and shook your head, “No.”
He nodded towards the door, “Come on, then. Let’s go.”
“Angel, I don’t think we sho—”
“You could’ve gotten up and walked away when you saw me, but you didn’t,” he got up off his stool and stood in front of you, a pleading look in his eyes, “And I coulda walked out the second I saw you talking to EZ, but I didn’t. What’s the point in kidding ourselves here, hm?”
There was a slight tremble in your hands as you took in everything that he was saying to you. He was absolutely right. You’d been trying, unsuccessfully, to get your mind off of Angel for weeks. But no amount of distractions and keeping yourself busy was effective—your mind always went right back to him. You didn’t know who you were trying to kid by hesitating. There was no way you were going to turn away from him again, not after the turmoil the last few weeks had brought you when you tried to get on with your life.
He held his hand out for you to take. You paused for a moment, wondering if you’d have a sudden surge of self-control, but you knew yourself better than that. Setting your hand in his, you hopped off the stool, immediately comforted by the sensation of his hand clasping around yours. Tossing a few bills onto the bar to cover your tab, you let Angel lead you towards the door. You thought about touching base with your friends, but you knew that they’d know what happened. Looking at Angel’s expression, you could tell that he was having much the same thoughts about his own friends. But EZ had felt the tension and you knew that he’d put it together immediately.
Stepping out of the bar and into the night air, you let the breeze wash over you and cool you off as Angel led you towards his bike. Any last bit of resolve that you had in you was gone the second that you laid eyes on his bike. All of the long days and late nights out on the road with him came rushing back to you and a smile appeared on your face. Angel glanced back at you, and when he saw the look on your face, he couldn’t help but to pull you closer, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your lips.
Your hands rested on the beat-up leather of his kutte, leaning your chest against his as you let yourself get lost in him. There was so much that the two of you should’ve been saying and doing instead, but that didn’t matter anymore. Feeling the way that his rough hands rested so gently on the sides of your face felt like coming home and you’d been away from it for far too long. You could feel the way his body started to relax as his lips continued to move against yours, trying to get all that he could while he had the chance, not knowing when this was going to get ripped away from him again.
When you finally pulled your lips off of his, you reached up and lightly trailed your fingertips though his beard. Forcing your eyes up to meet his, you could see that there were countless thoughts and feelings swirling around in them. There was a tinge of sadness, but mostly it was desperation, and you couldn’t say that you were in much better shape than he was when it came to that.
Letting your hands drop back down and interlock with his, you nodded towards his bike, “Let’s go.”
188 notes · View notes
seriouslysnape · 4 years
Note
Hi!❣️ Your writing is pretty cool, and I love the way you portray Sev, especially!
If it isn't a bother, of course... Could I make a request? Where Snape and the Reader are expecting, and go through all the nine months (like, through things like cravings, mood swings Snaddy has to endure, buying the child's stuff and decorating the room, all of that), till delivery? Only if you'd like the 'prompt', of course.
Wish you a nice day☺️
I LOVE THISSSSSS. YES DAD SEV >>>
__
Paternal Figure
Severus Snape x Fem. Reader
Warnings: Language, Emetephobia, Sexual implications.
Word Count: 5,161
“We’re going to be one happy family.”
__
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“How much longer?” Severus questioned, eyeing the pregnancy test that was lying face down on the bathroom counter.
You looked at your wrist watch that was secured on your trembling hand. You saw that it had been more than enough time for the pregnancy test to do its job. A quivering sigh flowed from your chest as you reached for the test with trembling fingers.
“It should be ready.” You replied.
Severus sat up straighter from where he sat on the bathroom floor, his blood pumping with eagerness and nervousness. You held the test to your chest for a second with your eyes closed and head lulled towards the ceiling.
You and Severus wanted a baby badly. After being married for a few years, the baby fever was becoming harder to resist between the two of you combined. It started out as a casual thing. Severus first briefly mentioned how there was still an empty room in the house that needed to be occupied. You assumed that he meant as an office space or maybe even a large walk in closet.
But when Severus suggested that the two of you turn that space into a nursery, you knew what he was implying. You had always wanted to have kids with Sev. In the beginning, Severus wasn’t totally sure how he felt about having a baby. He wasn’t great with younger people, and he was always afraid he wouldn’t be a good dad.
However, the longer the two of you were together and the more life you shared together, the more he wanted nothing more than to put a baby in you. He wanted to raise a child and teach it all the wonders of the wizarding world. He wanted your baby to be perfect.
The two of you sat and chatted for a long time about it, not wanting to rush into things. It was a huge deal after all; bringing a human into the world was a life changing ordeal. You talked it over, and you both happily agreed that you would start trying for a baby.
You admittedly became a little obsessed with getting pregnant in the first few months. You tracked your menstrual and ovulation cycles much more than usual, eventually memorizing everything down to the minute. You tried any wizard (and even a few Muggle) tricks in the book to increase your chances of conceiving, including basically pouncing on Severus any chance he was around.
If you had a free minute to spare, you were shoving him into bed and having sex with him. At first, Severus found it rather endearing that you were so excited to have a kid, but he became concerned as time went on. Getting pregnant isn’t always a quick process. Some women can so much as look at their husband and get results while some spend a better half of their life trying to even get a positive pregnancy test.
You were proving to be one of the harder cases.
With each negative pregnancy test, the more frantic you became. You felt like your fertility window was closing in on you rapidly, and if you didn’t get pregnant soon, it’d be too late. The first few negatives didn’t phase you much, but by the fifth or sixth, you were feeling discouraged. Severus was much more patient than you during all of this, holding you flush to him when you burst into tears of frustration.
It had become a monotonous and vicious cycle. You’d try to get pregnant, buy a pregnancy test, get a negative result, and fall into a weeping heap onto the bathroom floor. After one particularly hard let down, Severus stepped in. He was rocking your sobbing frame in his arms, hushing you and comforting you as best he could.
He suggested that the two of you take a break for a while, and that maybe you were trying too hard. The stress couldn’t have been good for you as a whole, and maybe taking a more casual approach would be best.
“Here’s what I’m thinking, my love. You and I take this step by step. We continue life as normal,” He said softly; “If you get pregnant then that’s good, and if you don’t, then we remain calm and try again. If much longer goes by, then we can go see your doctor.”
You nodded into his chest with heartbreaking sobs, agreeing that this had taken a huge toll on your body. You apologized for your crazy behavior, but Severus only gave a light laugh and kissed your head.
“No, no, my dear. Don’t be sorry. I want this just as much as you do.” He consoled, sweeping you off of the floor.
You were a bit apprehensive about Severus’ approach to this, but you were willing to try anything. Fast forward a few weeks later, and this was the first test you had taken since taking Severus’ advice.
“Sev...” You croaked out; “What if it’s negative?”
You were sitting against the door in your tiny bathroom, Severus sitting on the wall across from you. Your knees were almost touching one another’s as he replied.
“Then we accept it, take a few days, and try again. It’ll be alright, [Y/N].” He reassured, resting a hand on your knee in a loving way.
You exhaled deeply, already half expecting to be disappointed. You nodded, and quickly flipped the test so you could read it. Your heart hit your feet and bounced back into your ribcage at the sight. You were stoically silent as you stared in silence at the test.
Severus was watching with a clenched jaw, prepared to comfort you in case it wasn’t what you wanted to see. You kept looking at it for a few more seconds to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The double pink lines were as clear as day.
You were pregnant.
Tears filled your eyes, but they were tears of happiness. You turned the test so he could see it.
“It’s positive,” You said, smiling through the tears streaming your face; “We’re going to have a baby.”
Severus’ jaw fell open and stars of delight shot over his eyes. He himself gazed down at the test as if it would explode right in his hands.
“You’re pregnant...” He breathed out.
You nodded, wiping away at the tears with a genuine laugh. A blinding smile appeared on Severus’ face as he moved to pull you into a tight embrace. A few tears leaked from his eyes as well, the two of you mumbling “I love yous” to each other as you cried out the adrenaline and undeniably glee that you were feeling. It had almost been a year since you started trying, and now it seemed that it had paid off.
You were going to be parents.
__
The first trimester of your pregnancy was less than pleasant. While you were eternally grateful to be carrying your first child, you weren’t too thrilled about the symptoms that came with it. You were violently sick for the first few weeks, basically bringing back up anything you tried to hold down. Even something as mild as pumpkin juice was enough to make you sick just from the smell.
As disgusting as it was, Severus was by your side any time you fell ill.
“It’s okay, darling. Let it all out.” He soothed, rubbing circles onto your back as you let out another hurl.
You seemingly puked up everything you had eaten in the last ten years into the toilet bowl, a new groan escaping your chest every time you had a chance to take a breath. Severus kept your hair out of your face as best as he could, trying not to visibly grimace every time you threw up.
You closed the lid of the toilet for a minute, draping your arm over the top of it and resting your forehead on the heated skin of your forearm.
“Don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.” You grumbled miserably.
He gave a chuckle, and even though you couldn’t see it, he raised his left hand to reveal his silver wedding ring.
“In sickness and in health.” He said, wrapping his long legs around your from behind, resting his head on your back.
“I think this is an exception to that vow.” You joked, hoping that the relief you were feeling was to signal the end of today’s sickness.
Severus hummed.
“I think that this is exactly what it was referring to,” He corrected, his heart fluttering when you lifted your head with a weak smile; “Just as beautiful as ever.”
You snorted at that, but you were heartwarmed.
“How did I ever deserve you?” You asked, falling into his open arms.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
When you were actually able to have an appetite, you wanted any and every food imaginable. The pregnancy cravings were insanely hard to ignore, and it was even harder to ignore the weird things you craved.
“What...is that?” Severus questioned cautiously as he entered the kitchen, catching you in the middle of biting something he couldn’t even discern.
You looked at him with wide eyes and stopped mid-chomp. You didn’t respond, not even sure how to explain this to him. His gaze averted to the open pantry, and saw that mostly everything had been raided and placed on the kitchen counter. He had noticed that satisfying your cravings had proven to be the most difficult thus far. He inspected the food item in your hand and his stomach lurched when he realized what it was.
“Is that a treacle tart with...” He trailed off, barely able to finish the thought.
You finished his sentence, rather ashamed.
“...pickles.” You confessed.
Severus was sure that his face had turned a nasty shade of green at the thought of your concoction. He shuddered and made you put it down. You had always been creative and experimental in the kitchen, but this was too far.
“Okay, I’ve been supportive of every strange food combination you’ve come up with, but I draw the line at treacle pickle tarts.” He said with a voice full of amusement.
You whined.
“I know it’s weird, but I can’t help it. Everything we have sounds good.”
He scratched the back of his head. He never liked to tell you how to live your life, but there was no way that this was good for you or the baby.
“I don’t think Little One is going to appreciate pickles and desserts.” He noted, placing a hand on your very small baby bump.
“Little One” was the nickname that he had coined for your developing child. You and Severus had decided early on that you wanted to keep the baby’s gender a surprise up until delivery. Severus hated to keep referring to the baby as...well, “the baby”. So he had instinctively come up with all kinds of nicknames along the way.
“Well, I’m pretty sure that Little One is the only reason I want pickles.” You snapped back.
“It’s not the pickles. It’s the pickles with the tart that I can’t stomach.” Severus explained.
You sneered at him, but Severus continued before you could snark back at him.
“I’ll tell you what, princess. How about we whip up a bunch of your favorite foods, and we’ll have a nice dinner together?” He offered.
Your belly grumbled at the sound of that. You nodded in agreement, and you and Severus prepared a heavenly meal.
On top of the all day morning sickness and the nauseating cravings, your hormones were going absolutely nuts. You had never experienced such frequent mood changes like this, and poor Severus was the victim of all your emotional outbursts. It seemed as if you were blowing up at the smallest of details.
“Damn it, Sev. How many times have I told you not to leave your socks on the floor?” You hissed, angrily picking up his dirty socks.
Severus poked his head out of the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom, a guilty look on his face.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I left them there.” He said truthfully.
“Just like how you didn’t realize that you left the sink faucet dripping or how you forgot to put the pillows back on the bed when you got up at 10 in the morning?” You mocked, throwing his socks into his laundry basket.
He caught how aggravated you were, and exited the bathroom to talk things over. Severus didn’t want you to be upset with him, but he knew you were just going through a lot of changes and couldn’t really control your emotions well.
“I assure you that I didn’t do those things on purpose,” He said, not even an ounce of irritation in his voice; “I’ll pick up after myself.”
His light and friendly tone made you realize that you had overreacted once again. Severus had not once lost his temper with you, no matter how bad you had nagged him. Your shoulders slumped and you looked at your feet that were close to being covered by your steadily growing bump.
You felt bad for being on his ass about something 24/7. He was trying his best to help you and make your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. You yelling at him all the time wasn’t fair to him.
“I’m sorry, Sev. It’s not you.” You uttered for the hundredth time in the last three months.
He only smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Not to worry, my dear,” He mewled; “I can handle being screamed at for as long as it takes.”
__
The second trimester was actually easier than the first as far as symptoms goes. Your morning sickness had subsided, you had adapted to your ever changing hormones, and you weren’t tempted to eat everything in sight. While the symptoms were still there, they didn’t completely dictate your life.
You and Severus were well into the finer intricacies of planning for the arrival of your baby boy or girl. You were in the process of converting your extra bedroom into a nursery, which was a challenge for Severus. He was a shitty interior decorator, which wouldn’t be an issue if he hadn’t insisted that he decorate the baby’s room.
Severus wanted to be as involved as possible, never wanting you to think that he wasn’t there for you. You were ecstatic with the idea of him taking charge of the nursery, but you soon realized that wasn’t a good idea.
“We are not painting the baby’s room BLACK, Severus.” You protested, eyeing the cans of black paint on the floor.
Severus had gone out and bought all kinds of paint supplies. Paintbrushes, paint rollers, stencils, tape, etc. He was adamant about doing it all by hand (as opposed to using magic; a suggestion that he was horribly offended at), and had taken it upon himself to buy everything.
You had forgotten that there wasn’t much color interest in the world of Severus Snape.
“And why not? There’s black in other parts of the house.” He argued.
You put your hands on your hips, your back beginning to arch from the weight of your five month swelling belly.
“Yes, but this is a baby’s room. I don’t think he or she is going to like it,” You retorted back; “It’ll be too dark and...scary. I want Little One to be comfortable in here.”
Severus looked around. Perhaps, black was too extreme for such a small human. He looked a tad defeated and disappointed in himself. He was trying his hardest. You caught his dejected look.
“Oh, honey. I know you want it to be perfect,” You said, taking his face into your hands; “We can do it together. Maybe we can sneak a bit of black in here somewhere.”
He nodded.
“So, what color should we paint the room?” He asked.
You looked around this time, biting your lower lip in thought. You wanted to have gender neutral colors, and something that would be cozy for the baby.
“How about we paint the walls white? That way we can add pops of color wherever we see fit.” You said after a moment of thought.
Severus agreed, but was holding to your promise to have at least some black in the room. The nursery was an ongoing project, lasting about a week and a half. The crib was the last item placed in the room, and it was complete. You and Severus stood in the middle, basking in the finished nursery.
“It looks great, S.” You said, looking at the black painted changing table and the mobile above the crib.
“It does. I’m glad you helped me.” He admitted, eyeing the moving pictures on the walls.
You wrapped your arms around your husband’s waist, his lips falling to your head in response.
“We’re going to be one happy family.” You announced.
Severus laughed into your hair, his heart beating with hope.
“We already are.”
You had officially made it past the halfway mark, and your due date was quickly approaching. There was still so much to do, and not a lot of time to do it. Your bump was already huge, and you still had another trimester to go. You were getting to the point where swollen feet and an aching lower back was crippling your ability to go out and do much.
You were laid out on the sofa with Severus rubbing your tired feet. You were fighting the aching pain in your back and legs from the unevenly distributed weight from your midsection.
“I really need to go out today.” You winced as another round of soreness flooded your body.
Severus’ careful hands continued to massage the aching muscles of your feet.
“Why, love? You can surely go on a day where you’re feeling in higher spirits.” He said.
While he wasn’t totally wrong, you were at the point where every day was the same as the last. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have a “higher spirits” day for a while.
“I suppose I could. But I need to get baby clothes, pacifiers, bottles.” You grunted, exhaling heavily.
You really needed to do this, but you just weren’t feeling up to it. Then you had an idea. Since Severus didn’t get to put all his effort into the nursery, you thought you could give him a second chance.
“Severus, could you possibly go out and buy baby stuff today?” You suddenly asked.
You were honestly expecting him to say no, considering he knew nothing about baby fashion. Instead, his face brightened and he leapt up from the couch.
“Of course! Why didn’t you just ask?” He queried, giddy with joy.
You laughed at his anticipation, giving him a few instructions.
“Alright, Sev. Don’t buy anything ridiculous or anything that’s made of uncomfortable material,” You said; “And do NOT get anything Slytherin related. As much as you would like it, we have no clue what Little One is going to be sorted into when he or she is old enough.”
Severus groaned.
“Not even a-”
“No Slytherin stuff.”
“Well, what about a-”
“No, Severus.”
He groaned again, but accepted your request. As badly as he wanted his daughter or son to be a Slytherin, there was always the chance that they wouldn’t be. He’d love them regardless of what House they were in, but it would tickle him to death if they were a Slytherin.
So Severus went out into Diagon Alley with extra pep in his step, jittery as he went from store to store getting stuff for his little girl or boy. Severus had never paid much attention to baby clothes, and now that he was looking, his heart was swelling with excitement.
There were so many cute sweaters, onesies, socks, and pajama sets that absolutely made Severus burst with joy. He would pick out about a dozen outfits to start out with, knowing that you’d have to go buy more once the baby was older. But each time he thought he had enough, he’d spot two or three more outfits that he just had to buy.
He could not WAIT to see his baby in all of this stuff. It had obviously been a while since he was a child, and he was amazed at all of the new things that had been invented to make parenting easier and childhood more fun.
He bought a pacifier for every day of the week, and enough toys that would last your kid through kindergarten. He bought blankets and stuffed animals and anything else that a baby MIGHT want. Your baby was going to be spoiled to the max.
Truth be told, Severus went a little overboard with his purchases. He came back with no less than ten bags full of baby materials. You not-so-gracefully lifted yourself from the couch when he entered, several bags hooked onto each of his arms. He had a proud smile plastered on his face.
“Oh Merlin, Severus! What all did you buy??” You questioned, eyes bugging out at all the goodies in front of you.
“Clothes, pacifiers, bottles. Everything you asked for.” Severus stated innocently, you rifled through the bags at all the baby wonders.
“And toys, blankets, and stuffed animals.” You finished his list.
You looked at Severus with an entertained smile, his cheeks glowing red.
“I just want Little One to be happy.” He shrugged meekly.
You let out a soft “awh” and captured his soft lips in a sweet kiss. He already loved this baby so much that it melted your heart.
“With you as their dad, they absolutely will be.”
__
You had never been happier to enter your third and final trimester. You were in the home stretch, and you were so excited to meet your baby. You were about to pop like a balloon and, quite frankly, you had enough of it. Don’t make any mistake about it, you had cherished every moment of being pregnant, but you were ready to get some somewhat decent sleep without being kicked in the ribs every 5 minutes.
Although, with a newborn around, you weren’t sure how much sleep you would get.
Over the course of your pregnancy, Severus had become more and more protective the more your baby grew. Now that your due date was only a few days out, he jumped at any sudden movement or noise. He had eyes and ears like a hawk. He came barreling into the living room, completely naked and dripping with water from where he had just stepped into the shower.
“Darling, what was that? Are you alright?” He asked frantically as if he had just heard an airstrike.
You looked up from your book, readjusting the pillow that was underneath your massive belly to support the weight.
“Severus. I sneezed.” You declared.
Relief washed over him, and he ran a hand through his damp hair.
“Oh. Do you need anything?” He asked you for the millionth time that evening.
You laughed shortly, nodding your head.
“Yes. I’m fine,” You said; “Please try to enjoy your shower.”
Severus had been on your tail nonstop for the last three weeks. Even though most pregnancies go the full 40 weeks, your doctor said that labor could be expected once you hit 36. Sev didn’t want you out of his sights in case you went into labor early. He didn’t want to miss anything.
You had begged him to break away just for a minute, for his sake and yours. He padded back to the shower, ignoring the way his heart was thumping in his chest. You went back to your book, grinning to yourself at your anxious husband.
Once Severus was showered and somewhat calmer, you had grown tired and were ready to get in bed. Growing and carrying a baby had really tanked your energy levels, but Severus didn’t mind going to bed early. As long as he knew you and the baby were safe, he was content.
He laughed out loud when you slid into bed wearing only a pair of panties and a t-shirt that you had used a spell to stretch out. It was the only sleepwear that fit you due to your risen belly.
Getting comfortable was next to impossible, but you had gotten used to it over the last few months. You didn’t mind, because you knew it’d be back to normal soon. Severus was eyeing your tummy, looking to you with expectation once you were settled.
“Go ahead, Sev.” You giggled, knowing what he wanted.
Every single night since you had been pregnant, Severus would rub your belly and tell the human growing inside of you goodnight. Severus shimmied down to where his face was in front of your bump. He lifted the shirt up to reveal your bare belly. He left a kiss on the stretched skin, carefully placing both of his hands on you.
“Hello in there,” Severus said, smiling proudly when he felt the baby move at the sound of his voice; “Are you still kicking your mother?”
You even nodded at that, thinking about all the times that the baby had soccer kicked your ribcage or hit your bladder just right. You placed one hand over one of Severus’, and put your other in his hair as he spoke.
“I’m so ready to meet you. I love you so much already. Other than Mum, I never thought I could ever love someone this much,” Severus spoke gently; “You two are my whole world.”
You rubbed his hair as you listened. Severus had been nothing short of amazing during this process. He was more than you could ever ask for. This baby was going to be loved endlessly.
“I don’t know how great of a father I’ll be. I didn’t exactly have ideal parents. I admit that I don’t have a model to go off of. But I will love you no matter what,” He spoke; “I hope you sleep well, Little One. I can’t wait to see you.”
He pressed another kiss to the side of your belly, before returning to your side. You were misty eyed at his words, turning so you were facing him.
“Oh, Severus. You’re going to be a wonderful dad. I’ve seen the way you love this child,” You assured; “Little One is going to love you. And there’s no one else I’d rather bring a baby into this world with.”
Severus still had a modest amount of nerves, but it was drowned out with joy. He was so ready for this baby.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you, Sev.” You whispered back.
You leaned to kiss him, but just as your lips touched, you felt a contraction and a massive gush of fluid flushed out between your legs, soaking both of your lower halves. A startled gasp fell from your mouth, and Severus eyes grew about three times their normal size. You both knew what that meant.
Little One was about to make his/her entrance into the world.
__
Getting to the hospital from the time that labor began was a blind rush. Severus was positively panicked, which didn’t help your attempts to remain relaxed. He had spent 9 months preparing for this moment, and he was still caught off guard.
The hospital was busy, but you had a team of nurses and doctors ready to go. You were wheeled into a delivery room, your doctor checking to see how dilated you were. He let you know that you had one of the fastest dilations he had ever seen, because you were already at 10 centimeters. There was no time for an epidural or a spell.
It was time to push.
The nurses got your legs into delivery position, Severus taking your hand as the doctor and nurses guided you through it. You gave a hard push, screaming bloody murder and squeezing the circulation out of Severus’ hand.
“You’re doing great, my love. Keep pushing.” He praised you.
Your head fell back onto the pillow with gruff, heavy breaths. You were filled with a pain you couldn’t describe. You needed this baby out. The doctor gave you a second to rest, before instructing you to push again. You took a deep breath, every muscle in your body tensing up as you pushed. Severus scrunched his nose at how badly you were hurting his hand, but he didn’t dare say anything.
The baby’s head and shoulders were out, ear splitting cries echoing through the room. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Severus peeked between your legs, and you saw the way his face filled with pure love as he saw your baby for the first time.
“Oh, [Y/N]. Little One is gorgeous...” He breathed, wanting you to push again so you could be able to see; “Push again, darling. You’re almost there.”
The nurses and Severus were encouraging you as you pushed hard a few more times, your baby finally entering into the world. Severus was a little too squeamish to cut the cord, but he watched every single movement as the doctors and nurses cut the umbilical cord and got them cleaned up. You were breathing heavily, your entire body shaking from the strenuous action. You whimpered out to Severus, who had a better viewpoint than you did.
“Is the baby okay? Please tell me the baby’s okay...” You whined out, desperate to see him/her.
Severus was close to crying, but it was the happiest he had been in his entire life.
“The baby is perfect. You did so well, my love.” He said, kissing your sweaty forehead.
The chaos in the room died down, and one of the nurses had swaddled the crying baby. She gave a huge, kind smile and set the baby in your arms.
“Say hello to your baby girl.” She cooed.
Tears fell from your eyes as she was placed into your arms. Her cries dwindled out at the feeling and sound of your and Severus’ voices. She was the most stunning baby you had ever seen. Severus felt something awaken in him. A side of him that had been itching to come out.
“A girl...oh, a girl.” You cried happily.
Severus sniffed, holding back tears.
“She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.” Sev croaked.
He placed a kiss on her forehead, her small baby whimpers making his heart explode. The two of you sat in silence, raking over your baby’s perfection. After a minute, you looked up at Severus with a smile.
“I just thought of something we have to do.” You said.
Panic flashed over his face again. You had done everything he thought. What could there possible be to do?
“What is that, darling?” He acquired.
You giggled, kissing Severus’ cheek.
“We’ve got to pick a name for her.”
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toxic-gorgon · 3 years
Text
Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless
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Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.
Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.
When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die. 
Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.
That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate. 
You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try. 
Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man. 
When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer. 
You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor. 
But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts. 
Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.
The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.
Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.
Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.
He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.
To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there. 
“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease. 
“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.
“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?
“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.
You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!” 
Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.
Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey. 
Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.   
“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.
“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.” 
Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were. 
Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back. 
“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit. 
Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned. 
“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”
With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises. 
Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.
With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio. 
He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb. 
“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.” 
Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock. 
“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed. 
He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?
“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”
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zafirosreverie · 3 years
Text
Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader) part 3
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(Part 1) (part 2)
a/n: this is too cliché and I’m sorry for that. not really.
- - - - - - - - -
"I'm going to kill you" you hit Nick hard
"Ouch!" he exclaimed as he rubbed his shoulder "Damn Y/N, you have a good arm, you should consider boxing"
"Shut up! I’m mad at you!" you growled
"I know, I know! I'm sorry!" Nick threw up his hands in surrender "Listen, I didn't think Dalton was going to sit with me, okay? We were just chatting and I thought he would go to his seat as soon as we left"
"Ah, so leaving me standing in the hallway until your boyfriend left was the option? How is that better, Jadu?!" you crossed your arms.
"Sorry!" he said again "... but it wasn't that bad, was it? I mean, you ended up sitting with Ms Harkness"
"Yes, and then I used her as a pillow!" you hissed "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was?! She sure hates me now, Nick!"
"I don't think she does" he smiled at you "she has been looking at you since we arrived"
It was true. Since you hurriedly got down of the bus, and in all the time that you had been in the hotel lobby (seriously, how hard was it to give you your rooms?! Why did they have to keep you there for hours?), you could feel the brunette’s eyes on you. But you hadn't been able to look at her face, so you only glanced at her from time to time.
"And?" you asked
"Well, it's true that it could be a 'I'm planning your murder, Y/L/N' look" he joked "But, at least from here, it seems more like a 'I want you to use me as a pillow again, and as a whole bed if you want' look"
You blushed and hit him again.
"Shut up" you muttered "You're on thin ice, Jadu"
He laughed and hugged you from behind. He was much taller than you, so you could hear his heart. You felt safe with him, like an older brother taking care of you.
But you weren't going to forgive him so easily.
"Get off, Nick" you growled jokingly and crossed your arms
"Ok, plan B then" he said and released you, then dropped to one knee and took your hands.
You laughed at his silliness and quickly put yourself on role by faking a pout.
"Y/N  Y/L/N, my precious friend" he said "I am very sorry I hurted your feelings. What can this humble being do to earn your forgiveness?"
You stifled a laugh and tried not to smile "Nicholas Jadu, my idiot friend" you said "I'm afraid there is nothing you can do this time. Your offense is very serious"
"Please, my lady" he laughed "How about I offer you a book as a sacrifice?"
"Uhmm ... add a chamomile tea and you have a deal"
"deal"
Neither could hold your laughter any longer. You helped him to his feet and he put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer and ruffling your hair.
_________
Agatha couldn't help feeling a twinge of jealousy when she saw you laughing and playing with Nicholas. She knew she had no right to be jealous, especially when you were just talking to your friend like she had always seen you do since your first year at school.
She didn't want to hate the boy either (okay, maybe hate was a very strong word. She was just a little mad at him), because it wasn't his fault that she felt that way. He had no way of knowing that his closeness to you stirred his teacher's stomach. But she couldn't help it. Seeing you so happy and careless, hugging him and joking with him, was a lot for her. That, that was something she wanted.
She was so distracted by your interaction with Nicholas, that she didn't really pay attention to what Wanda and Jimmy were saying until her redhead pulled her by the arm and made her look at them.
"Agatha, do you agree?" she asked, making the brunette curse herself for not paying attention.
"Oh sorry hon, what?" she blinked.
"Weren't you listening?" Jimmy asked. Agatha rolled her eyes
"Well someone had to keep an eye on the kids while you guys were distracted at the reception" she lied.
"Sure" Wanda rolled her eyes before sighing "we have a problem"
"Now what?"
"We should have been suspicious when we were missing seats on the bus" Jimmy muttered, but the brunette didn't even turn to him.
"It seems we had more than one error when we did the math" Wanda told her.
"Are we missing a room too?" Agatha asked
"Something like that" replied the redhead "It seems that we are missing one on the girls’ side, and we have one left on the boys' side"
"But we can't let a female student sleep in the boys' area" Jimmy said.
"Not by law" agreed Wanda
"Okay" Agatha sighed "and I'm assuming the hotel can't change it"
"Nope"
Agatha sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. This trip was proving to be a headache and they have just arrived.
"But we thought of a solution" the redhead quickly assured her.
"Which is?" the brunette raised her eyebrow
"Our shared room is registered" Wanda said "And as teachers, one of us can occupy the room on the boys' side, while the other stays with the girls"
"And since they ... respect you more, we thought it was a good idea if you stayed with them" added Jimmy
"So, Wanda will sleep on the boys' side while I take care of the girls, and you want me to share a room with one of them."
"A student sharing a room with her teacher is not against school law as it would be to let the girl sleep on the boys' side" said Wanda
"Stupid heteronormative laws" Agatha thought "They're college students! They know what they’re doing! And it's not like everyone is straight, especially in this college. I'm sure 70% of our students are part of the LGBT + community"
But she couldn't say that out loud. So she just sighed and nodded
"Okay, I stay with the girls"
"Excellent" Wanda smiled "Now we just have to tell them"
___________
Agatha Harkness was not a woman who considered herself evil ... well, not too much. But she couldn't deny that she was slightly proud of the scared looks and worried murmurs from her students when Wanda told them that they would stay in charge of her.
"So who will share a room with Ms Harkness?" the redhead asked.
Agatha felt strangely confident and a little relieved. She knew you wouldn't volunteer in a million years, so she wouldn't have to deal with her feelings and spending time with another student might help her get rid of them. She wouldn't be tempted by you.
"Y/L/N will do it" a voice yelled, causing the brunette to frown.
Wait, what?
But she wasn't the only one confused by the statement.
You had been in the back of the group throughout Professor Maximoff's speech, decidedly avoiding looking at the brunette, no matter how many funny looks Nick gave you.
When she said someone should sleep with Ms Harkness, you thought that girl was lucky, but it was definitely not going to be you. There was no way in the world you would offer yourself, especially after what had happened on the bus. The statement made you freeze.
"Y/L/N will do it" Susana yelled, a few steps ahead of you.
"Wait, what?" you murmured, before feeling all eyes on you.
"Come on Y/N" someone whispered near you "You are the witch tamer"
"The what?" you frowned
"You are Harkness' favorite student" Susana confirmed "You are the only one who could survive the kraken"
"Okay, that's an exaggeration" you rolled your eyes
But it seemed like your classmates only heard the first word, because they immediately pushed you to the front of the group, offering you as a human sacrifice to the witch woman.
"Excellent" smiled the red-haired teacher "Everything settled then. Form two lines, men with Professor Woo and me, women with Professor Harkness" she said, totally oblivious to the scared look in your eyes or the way the brunette froze.
As everyone moved, you felt Nick's hand on your back and turned to look at him. He was smiling at you, but in a reassuring way, there was no mockery in his smile.
"You'll be fine Y/N" he assured you "Just charge your phone as soon as you enter the room and I will talk to you until you fall asleep"
You smiled at him gratefully. You really didn't deserve him.
"Thank you" you whispered.
Nick smiled at you one last time before he went to his line. Sighing, you took your things to form yours too, praying that you could survive these two weeks.
Looking quickly at your teacher, you could see that at least she seemed normal. She didn't look at you while she handed out the keys to the rooms, or when you guys got on the elevator. Perhaps she had already forgotten the incident. You wish you could too.
What you didn't know was that you weren't the only one panicking.
Agatha tried to appear calm and collected, as if she didn't care at all about the situation. She used all her willpower not to look at you while she did her chaperone duties, using her voice of authority. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.
But inside, she could feel her circuits melting and the little voices in her head screaming in panic.
"Shit, shit, shit! This wasn’t in the plan! Abort mission, abort, abort, abort! Mayday, mayday, mayday"
She needed to calm down. She needed to regain her self-control.
So she gave you the room keys, saying that she needed to do her rounds to make sure everyone was in their rooms, needing to put as much distance between you as possible.
____________
You sighed in relief as the hot water from the shower hit your back. You hadn't realized how tense you were.
You cursed Susana and the others in a low voice. How could they sacrifice you like this? Damn traitors. You knew there was no way they could know about your crush (although you honestly thought you were pretty obvious), so they weren't doing it because they hated you. But still, damn it.
"Two weeks" you whispered "Only two weeks. You can do it Y/N"
You desperately wished you could believe your own words.
_______________
It took Agatha almost three hours to get to the room. She had been helping the girls get settled in, making sure everything was in order.
Some of them had had problems with their suitcases, so she had to solve that mess. She was totally not delaying going to her own room.
And she was definitely not thinking about the beautiful girl who was waiting for her there.
Ok, that sounded bad even in her head.
You weren't waiting for her. It wasn't like you were in her bed, in your underwear, specifically waiting for her to give yourself completely to her and-
"Enough" she mentally scolded herself. She shouldn't be having those thoughts about you.
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, turning her attention to the hallway as the girls obediently entered into their rooms. She almost wished they weren't well-behaved little angels. Sure, she knew they were actually terrified of her, but it didn't matter.
The point was, she finished pretty fast (well, fast in her opinion) and she soon found herself reluctantly walking up to her room.
"Well ... let's get this over with" she thought as she used the other key "hopefully everything will be fine"
____________
It wasn’t fine. IT WASN’T FINE!
Agatha had almost turned and fled the room when she saw you lying on the bed.
You weren't exactly in your underwear, surrounded by rose petals, with candles as the only lighting and waiting for her in a seductive pose. No.
But you were lying on your stomach, wearing a set of shorts and a tank top as pajamas, in the middle of the bed, with the lamp on and reading peacefully. And for some reason, that was even sexier than her fantasy.
You looked so relaxed, so peaceful. Your legs kicked calmly as your hands turned the pages of the book, and your blouse left little to the imagination, showing the upper part of your breasts.
For a moment she imagined herself approaching you, gently removing the book from your hands, before kissing you deeply as she climbed on top of you.
She imagined running a hand up your stomach, lifting your tank top little by little. She wondered how your skin would feel under her touch. Would you blush if she caressed the base of your breasts? Or if she kissed your neck? What noise would you make if she lowered her hand to the spring of your shorts and-
Agatha cleared her throat to cover her moan. The noise made you jump up and look at her.
You were so focused on your reading that you hadn't noticed the other's presence. You hadn't even heard the door open. You looked at your teacher and couldn't help noticing the blush that adorned her cheeks. She seemed agitated.
"Are you okay Ms Harkness?" you asked softly, starting to get up. Getting close to her was the last thing you wanted to do, but you couldn't help but worry about her. Fortunately, you didn't have to.
"Perfectly fine, Miss Y/L/N" she smiled at you, although it seemed forced "However, I think the fatigue of the trip is catching up with me" she said, hurriedly walking to the other side of the room, where her suitcase was still unpacked. At least there were two beds, she wouldn’t have to be tortured by sleeping next to you.
You didn't say anything, a little confused by her attitude. You simply nodded and refocused on your reading.
Agatha was grateful for that. However, as she took her things out of the suitcase, she kept stealing glances at you, getting a little mad at you with every second that passed.
Who had given you permission to get into her head like this? You had no right to greet her in pajamas, to leave your legs and collarbones exposed for her to see. You had no right to drive her crazy, and then act worried about her, like it wasn't your fault she was a mess in the first place.
The fact that you didn't know the power you had over her wasn't a good enough excuse in her opinion.
Wait... she wasn't supposed to know about your crush on her either.
"Too bad for you, love" she thought, with a devilish smile.
She knew that she shouldn't do this, but she refused to be the only one to suffer in these two weeks!
Without saying anything, she took her towel and walked to the bathroom, "accidentally" forgetting her clothes on the bed. Upps, guess she would have to come out wrapped in the towel ... we'll see
______________
When the bathroom door closed, you let out a sigh that you didn't even know you were holding. You guessed it could be worse.
"If this keeps up, maybe we can survive the entire trip, Y/N" you muttered
When the thing with the rooms had happened, she didn't say anything about sharing with you, then she'd been gone for almost three hours and now she'd just walked into the bathroom, barely speaking to you. If she continued like this, indifferent, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
Smiling and feeling relieved, you read again, quickly losing yourself in the pages. You were reading about the Salem trials, wanting to be the best prepared for tomorrow's tour. After all, you were here for a research that would be evaluated in a lengthy essay. You wanted to be ready for it.
However, just a few minutes later (at least that felt like a few minutes to you, although it could have been hours, you could never be sure when you read), you heard the shower turn off and the bathroom door opened.
By now, you weren't that nervous anymore so you allowed yourself to look up and- OH. MY. GOD.
Agatha Harkness was standing in front of you, hair still dripping, barefoot and with only a towel wrapped around her body. You swallowed audibly and hid your face in your book, praying that she didn't notice the effect she was having on you.
Agatha smiled to herself as she sat on the edge of her own bed, at the end closest to you. She crossed her legs in a decidedly slow motion and reached out for her clothes, exposing her collarbone and neck to you.
You looked away when she started dressing. It was one thing to have a crush on her, but it was quite another to be rude and watch her change, no matter how much you wanted.
The older woman frowned a little, but she told herself that there would be time to tempt you more. When she finished changing, she glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, noticing for the first time the way one of your hands gripped the sheet while your legs were pressed firmly.
"A good start" she thought "Let's see how much more you can take, love ..."
She had agreed to make the trip so that you would be happy, and she was adamant about it. She would let you enjoy the guided tours of the town and you could enjoy your day as you wanted.
But the nights, she had just decided, belonged to her. And she wouldn't be the only one burning with desire and lust. She was completely determined to make this trip a lustful hell for you.
- - - - - - - - - 
tags: @midnight-lestrange @everythingmarvelsherlockspn (tag not working) @amethyst-bitch @juliejules-089 @powerfulmagicalgirl (tag not working) @novohyde @annie-mit-ie @shinkomiii @agentbrownierso @swanqueensupercorp @usernames-are-difficult @philippaharkness @rainbow-hedgehog @parkerprolly @amelia02
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Text
In Times Past
Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 
Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]
Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment
A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 
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Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.
Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.
On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.
“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.
However, Bruce controlled his reaction.
“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”
“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”
“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”
“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”
Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.
‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’
Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.
“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”
Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.
“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."
Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.
But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.
“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”
Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”
“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”
————
Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.
When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.
Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.
It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.
Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.
Bruce Wayne made his entrance.
He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.
Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.
But now it was time for the finale.
Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.
They shared a look that proved they were both game.
The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.
The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.
There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.
The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.
But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.
Right on cue.
“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”
“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.
But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.
Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.
The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.
It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.
Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.
Then there was the flash of a camera.
Bingo.
Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  
He played up being somewhat embarrassed.
But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.
It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 
His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.
Why did she have to be here?
Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?
Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?
And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?
Y/F/N Y/L/N.
The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.
Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.
What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  
Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.
Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.
Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.
But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.
They had always been good friends.
The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.
But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.
He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.
Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.
Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 
“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.
“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.
Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.
“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.
The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.
“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”
“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”
Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.
“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”
Bruce saw his window. 
With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.
Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”
Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  
Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”
He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.
Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.
He’d spared her…for now.
“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”
The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”
Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”
They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”
Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”
Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.
But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.
Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 
Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 
Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.
But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  
“Waiting for your car?”
Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”
Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.
All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.
Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.
“What are you doing here, Bruce?”
He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.
Her lips pursed at his response.
“Leaving so soon?” He asked.
Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”
One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”
Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.
“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.
Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”
Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.
Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”
The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.
“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.
He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”
She took in a deep breath.
She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.
Y/N just nodded.
A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.
Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.
He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.
“Where to?” Bruce asked her.
“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.
“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”
Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”
“Oh. I didn’t know…”
“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”
The car filled with silence.
Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham
It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.
But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”
This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.
But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”
Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.
Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.
“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”
“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”
Bruce’s jaw tightened.
Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.
Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.
“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.
She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.
But she hesitated.
No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.
Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.
“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”
And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.
“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”
He wanted to tell her.
Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.
But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.
But he couldn’t. And he knew that.
Bruce kept his face reserved.
His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.
“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”
Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.
She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.
If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.
There wasn’t any point in pushing.
So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”
He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.
————
Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.
When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.
“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.
Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”
“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”
That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.
“I found no record of that,” he argued.
“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”
Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.
Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”
Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.
“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.
Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”
“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”
Alfred opened his mouth to say more.
“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.
“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”
Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.
Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.
But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.
Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.
————
Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.
“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.
“Yes.”
“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”
“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.
“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.
Bruce tense. “What is it?”
There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”
Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.
Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.
The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.
Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.
“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.
Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.
Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 
Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.
“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.
“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.
Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.
“Not good,” Y/N muttered.
“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.
Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”
“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”
Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.
“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.
Suddenly the lights shut off.
“Yippy!” Harley cheered.
Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”
Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”
To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.
Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Y/N yelped at the sound.
Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.
Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.
Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.
The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.
Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.
“Is that…No, it can’t be…”
A voice called out over the madness.
A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.
The Joker.
He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.
But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”
Now, Joker was free from him isolation.
Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.
And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.
Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.
“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”
Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.
“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”
Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.
So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”
“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.
Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.
“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.
Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.
He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.
Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.
Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 
But that earned her a slap across the face from him.
Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”
His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.
But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 
Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 
She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.
But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.
Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.
“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”
Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.
Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.
To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.
“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”
“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”
“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.
Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”
“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”
Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.
“How about…no?” Joker laughed.
Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.
Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.
Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.
Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.
While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.
She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.
“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.
How the hell did Batman know her name?
She squinted wearily at him.
“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.
Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.
Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.
She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.
Police officers surrounded them now.
“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.
Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.
Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.
“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.
Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.
Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?
When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.
Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.
But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.
All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.
She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.
“Thank you…for saving me back there.”
Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?
Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?
And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.
“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.
“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”
They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.
“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.
It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.
Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.
But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.
Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.
“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.
“Do what?” Gordon asked.
“Disappear like that?”
Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”
———
“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.
“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.
Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.
But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”
Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”
Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.
“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.
Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.
“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.
“Alfred, don’t you start.”
“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”
Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.
“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”
“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”
“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”
Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.
The two men shared a look. 
No one stopped by the manor.
Alfred made his way over.
Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.
A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.
“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”
Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.
When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.
She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.
“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.
“Hi,” she replied.
Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.
“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.
She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.
Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”
Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.
The energy between them felt so different than last time.
To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.
There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.
Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.
“I have something that belongs to you…”
Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.
But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.
She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 
Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 
But he grabbed it from her anyways.
“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”
Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”
She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”
So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.
“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”
Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”
“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”
“I’d never share your secret.”
“I know,” he answered instantly.
Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”
Bruce said nothing.
She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  
Her trust.
Her secrecy.
Her love.
He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”
“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.
“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”
Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.
She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.
Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.
“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”
Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.
He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.
———
Bruce Wayne was a fool.
Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.
But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.
Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.
Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.
In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.
Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.
“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.
And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.
Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’
“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”
Bruce still didn’t move.
“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”
Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.
“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.
Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”
When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.
He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 
Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.
It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.
Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.
They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.
A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.
When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.
It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.
And Y/N almost made it.
Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.
He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.
This was not a one time thing.
These type of visits continued.
Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 
Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 
Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.
On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.
Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.
Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.
Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.
Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.
It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.
When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.
He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."
Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.
Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.
Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.
“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.
Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”
Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”
“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.
He shook his head.
“At least keep me company,” she requested.
Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.
But he finally sighed and nodded.
He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.
He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.
“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.
Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.
She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”
 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”
She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.
“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”
An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.
When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.
As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.
Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”
“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.
“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.
Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.
“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.
Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”
She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”
————
Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.
“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.
Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.
“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.
But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.
“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”
Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”
“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”
Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”
“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.
Bruce watched him carefully.
“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”
Bruce opened his mouth.
“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”
He wasn’t done.
“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”
Bruce just sat there and took it.
Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”
——————
Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.
Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.
As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.
“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”
Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.
“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.
“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.
“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”
“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”
Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”
He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.
“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”
He smiled at her frantic concern.
“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”
Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.
Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 
Damn all the people who were probably watching them.
When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 
She matched his smirk.
But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.
“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’
She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.
“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”
-----------------------------------------------------
I worked so hard on this 😩  Please let me know your thoughts. 
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purebarnes · 3 years
Text
the one where y/n finds out.
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ➢ when you have your birthday party at your shared apartment, everyone arrives but only for sam to leak one of bucky’s deep secret. leaving everyone shocked and confused about everything.
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ➢ 2.3k
ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀꜱ ➢ angst, little too late, heartbroken
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴀᴋꜱ ➢ n/a
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you used to not liking celebrating your birthday but that was until you became an avenger and the friendships that evolved throughout the years. when you first moved to new york, you and wanda instantly clicked—you loved her and when she had the idea to be your roommate, you loved it even more.
tony helped you guys move in with the rest of the guys including nat and pepper. you loved them for helping you guys all in short notice, whenever you would carry a box that seemed heavy, bucky would intervene. he would make comments about leaving it so he could grab which you didn’t mind.
wanda would casually look over to see bucky and you talking but wanda would constantly tease you about it. telling her that you were just friends but she and sam wouldn’t let it go. tony would get comfortable and relaxing on your couch that they had just finished setting up but pepper scolding her husband.
when your birthday came around the corner, wanda insisted you to have a party if she would have to do it for you. that’s what she did. she bought invitations and got the decorations, made vision buy her a cake, told nat and bruce to bring in the drinks, demanded steve, sam and bucky to not mess anything up.
you told them not to listen to her but wanda made sure they all did something to make her birthday extra special. the morning, wanda went to the store to grab some supplies for the party while you got ready. hearing the keys jingle from the outside, you grabbed a towel and finished drying your hair.
when the door opened, wanda sighed putting the few bags in her hand. “i almost had to fight some old lady for this.” she said pointing to the bag as went to open the fridge for a drink. you chuckled at your friend as you sat down, “wan. you didn’t have to do this. i would of been fine if it was just you, me and nat—bucky?” she teased as you rolled your eyes grabbing a potato chip bag and opening it to hear the small tear when you opened it.
although he wasn’t boyfriend, sometimes you couldn’t help but feel a certain type of way around him, he had a shared apartment with sam so he understood what you meant by all that.
you popped a chip in your mouth when wanda went to check the time on the oven while she gasped—she grabbed the bag of chips as you groaned. “alright, we have 4 hours to—that’s probably enough.” you stated at wanda and her eagerness. she shook her head in denial as she kept pushing you out, “you, just relax and i will handle everything.”
she pushed you into your bedroom as you sighed turning around the your bed and plopping onto the soft white cushion. you started to feel your eyelids drop and started to fall back to sleep. a hour later you heard a male in your shared apartment and decided to see who it was.
you left your room and saw that it was vision and wanda talking about something like paprika or how she wouldn’t let him cook any food. when wanda looked up, vision got up to wish you happy birthday. “happy birthday, y/n.” he spoke walking over to give you a hug. “oh, thank you. vision what are you doing here so early. the party doesn’t start—i just wanted to see what i could help with.” he told her looking between the two women.
until wanda widened her eyes when she saw that you weren’t even dressed yet, “y/n! go get dressed, your boyfriend is almost here!” even though you did like him a lot, that wouldn’t change the fact. when you finally got dressed, you saw wanda finishing up some of the food with nat grabbing a beer.
the door suddenly opening to steve, bucky and sam as they all introduced themselves—“the men are here.” sam announced dropping his voice dropping the gift bag on the table as both of the girls narrowed their eyebrows. you went over to see what was happening, “I am going to stop you right now.” natasha spoke ripping the coal that was in sam’s hands.
you went over to hug them all fully stopping at bucky, “hi—happy birthday, doll.” he whispered wrapping his arms around your waist then letting when you hugged the rest of the guys. steve went to give you a gift as you accepted it placing it on the table. “where is the drinks?” Clint asked when he arrived already wanting to drink as you pointed to the blue cooler on the floor.
“so steve, how are things going with your girlfriend…” nat taunted taking a sip of the drink as steve rolled his eyes at her, “fine. you know how i’m doing the thing…” he let out signaling what they said before the party, “well the only problem is she now wants to have sex with me.” steve spoke as sam sighed sitting next to him, “crazy bitch.” sam said sarcastically at him as all three of them left to use the balcony.
when steve walked over to the balcony, bucky looked over to see you taking to some guy wanda brought over. sam and bucky noticed that you were flirting quite well with the guy, sam scoffed pulling his friend over into the balcony and grabbing a beer and opening it. handing it back to bucky, “dude. you need to forget her, move on with someone else… if she isn’t showing any interest then fuck her.” sam pointed out about you.
“buck, he’s right. but let’s not use such hostile words. have fun, meet someone else. stop letting her lead you on buddy.” steve said to bucky as he nodded at them while grabbing his phone and preparing to make a phone call. he turned around when he pressed on his contacts to call up a friend.
when everyone else arrived, wanda made an announcement about the food and how people should get some. you walked over to see bucky sipping on the cold beer in his metal hand as you took a seat next to him. “how’s the food—s’good. did you make it?” bucky asked you which you denied since you didn’t make it.
hours later of chatting and some people drinking too much alcohol, wanda decided to do gifts which you obliged. you got up rushing to the couch with everyone following behind you. when you saw bucky still at the table, you asked if he was coming. then excusing himself to use the bathroom, you grabbed a bag and shook it see if you could what it was.
“it’s heavy and rattles… and it’s two checkers.” you said plainly making you smile drop as you thank steve as he keeps smiling. “thank you.” you said handing it back to steve in his arms as his smile drops at your action then going to pick up a different gift. it was box shaped as you went to rip open the wrapping paper, you stopped smiling when you fully saw what was in your hands.
a action figure of sam, you close your eyes and have him a stare, “wow, thanks—that action figure will help you with anything.” sam said patting your shoulders while you put the you on the table as you picked up a small wrapped box.
the next you picked up was in a bag, you opened it and saw a farmed picture of you and tony bit it was sweet because on the bottom was engraved with your intials. you looked up at tony, “thank you.” you thanked when you picked up a small wrapped box with a red bow on it.
sam looked up and told you that bucky had brought you that, you nodded opening the wrapping paper and saw it was a jewelry box. you slowly opened it and gaped at the thing that was inside, you grabbed it lacing it around your finger tips. “oh, my god. this is beautiful.” you spoke gawking at the jewelry.
when you and bucky were hanging out one day, you both passed a shop and you guys saw on the window a ring that had gems like the one your mother gave you when you were a kid. you couldn’t believe how long that time had passed and he just remembered like it wasn’t a long time that had passed.
steve looked up, “sure but can you play it on a plane?” he asked motioning towards his checkers that he had given to you.
“i can’t believe he would do that, that looks expensive.” nat said getting up and examining the jewelry in your hand as wanda does the same when sam chuckled to himself. everyone looking at his direction when he did growing confused. he looked up and looked at everyone, “remember back in one of the missions when he fell in love with that one girl and bought her that ridiculously expensive figurine.”
steve widened his eyes at sam when he just let those words out of his mouth when you turned your attention to sam. shocked from what he just said, “what did you just say?” you asked when steve leaned back in his chair grabbing a beer to see how this would all unhold. sam finally recognized his mistake and widened his brown eyes looking at steve then back at you and everyone else.
bruce furrowed his eyebrows and looked at clint for help to see what was happening but no one knew what to say. everyone stayed silent and not speaking until sam cleared his throat and inhaling slowly to try to say something else instead. it wasn’t a way to help him get a easy way out right now. “figurine.” nat scratched the back of her head and winced at sam for exposing how bucky felt.
“no. no. no. the, um, the love part?” you explained holding up your thumb and pointer finger signaling about the other part sam spoke about. sam sat up straight and started stammering at your direction but then stopped as nothing was coming out. it took you a second to realize what that meant, bucky loves you. “oh, my god!” you covered your mouth when wanda went to run your back to comfort you.
sam rubbed his forehead together, it might of been a way to stop something from happening. steve got up and grabbed a cold beer from the cooler and and gives it to you—“yeah, just drink you problems away. works for me.” a comment from clint winking at you as you sigh looking back at sam to say something else. when he doesn’t you get up and put the cold drink down and walk to the kitchen.
“wow this huge, i don’t think any of our likes will be the same. and you’re screwed.” natasha spoke getting up and patting sam on his shoulders knowing the consequences that were about to happen when bucky would enter the apartment. you stood there waiting to see what you would do in this situation, wanda got up and squealed. “this is so great, you and bucky! see, i told you!” she said to you.
you rolled your eyes at wanda’s excitement about the thought of you two getting together. of course you felt happy finally understanding his feelings for you. but you were still shocked that he would even have feeling for you. after all the little flirting, you couldn’t finally tell him how you feel. you thought it would be too much for both of you.
“well we don’t know if he actually has these feeling for you… we shouldn’t be trusting anything sam is saying—yes! vision is right, don’t trust me. let’s all forget this, this is just small, minor, petite, meh.” sam spoke when wanda glared at vision who raised his hands up and sat back down watching the females. nat went to ask you if you know about anything, “i mean, my first night training, he mentioned something about asking me out but he never did. well, wh-what else did he say? i mean, does he wanna go out with me?” you asked sitting next to steve waiting to hear from him.
“well, knowing he’s like head over heals for you. i’m guessing yeah maybe some coffee would be nice.” scott shrugged as everyone looked back at him as he spoke about that. “did anyone else know?” you asked when some heads went down, scott, clint, steve, bruce, nat and tony as he hid his head way shamefully. you widened you eyes when you saw nat looking down and slapping her in the arm slightly.
she stepped back when you did, “ow. you hit hard—why didn’t you tell me nat?” you questioned you friend while she told that bucky made her promise to not tell you. you finally got up from the couch, “i need to talk to him—he’s in the bathroom—ours.” sam and steve both said rapidly to stop you from talking to him. you walked into your room to take a quick moment for yourself.
“what are you even gonna say to him? y/n.” nat asked you walking towards you as you shrugged at her, surely not knowing what to say walking over to her and putting off the drink. “i dont know--well if you're just gonna break his heart then maybe just hold off because that can wait till tomorrow,” sam said rushing towards you and grabbing your forearm and projecting his fake love towards you. “y/n, i love you! deal with me first!” sam announced as you furrowed your eyebrows and left your apartment to go ee bucky.
sam groaned in frustration once you left, once you turned the corner to see bucky’s door, your smile faded once you saw bucky kissing some brunette, you sighed. he seemed so into that girl and you didnt want to ruin any of buckys happiness for him. it pained you deeply to see some girl with the one person that you might actually were meant to be. 
you turn around quickly and run back to your apartment and shut the door immediately and fall back on the door blowing the hair out of your face. wanda goes over, “what happened?—he, uh, h-he was kissing and h-holding.” you stammered losing your breath from the running you did as they all grew confused with you. the next thing they heard was a knock on the door as you jump back getting startled.
“hey… it’s me bucky. can you let me in.” you close your eyes before sighing and opening the door to see bucky and the brunette from before hands on her waist as they all looked at them, shock throughout their faces as you coughed so that they wouldn’t stare anymore. “who’s this buck?” steve asked waiting for bucky, “this is laila, laila these are my friends and y/n.” you stepped back not understanding why he was leave you out like that.
“well this so fun. just peachy, you thirsty?” you taunted but not enough to make sure some one noticed, you grabbed a wine bottle and pours red wine onto a glass to help yourself. she refused your offer while getting closer to him as you say everyone looking at you with sympathy. you shook your head while speaking up. “you know it’s getting late. i have work tomorrow, i am just gonna head to bed—this has been so much fun.” you laughed at them.
you closed your eyes as sam went to grab the glass of wine as you stopped him and grabbed the whole bottle to do what clint had suggested from before. you heard everyone telling you to stay but you couldn’t bear look at bucky any different now.
you went to your room, shutting the door as you put the bottle on your desk and plopped onto your bed sighing for the millionth time. it would take you awhile to get used to something like this.
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babymetaldoll · 3 years
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I just want you (Chip Taylor / Reader)
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Requested: Yes
Word counting: 3.5K
Summary: What would it be like to be married to Chip Taylor? Would it include a lot of women trying to hit on him?
Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of 68 Kill.
A/N: Hello, beautiful people! sorry, I've been a little absent here, but writing my series has taken most of my time! Also, I feel a little blocked, and my personal life has been a mess. But, here it is: my first Chip Taylor fic. Have you guys seen 68 Kill? I love that movie, and I love Chip so much. He deserves the world. I hope you guys like this little story!
Masterlist
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It wasn’t like I didn’t know my husband was handsome, ‘cos you had to be blind not to see his face was made by the gods, and all of his features were simply perfect. I just didn’t know every woman would flirt with him everywhere we were all the time.
And they weren’t even subtle about it. No. They made it very obvious when they looked at Chip each time they stopped by his work. They wanted him.
After all those years together, a part of me had made peace with that. I couldn’t stop them. He was hot, he didn’t want their attention, but he wasn’t rude or anything like it. Chip Taylor was a very polite man who was also very blind to the attention his looks gave him.
Chip owned a small pet sitting business that had started to really take off in the last few months. He had some savings that he used to buy a house when we first started dating. He lived there until we got married, and then we bought a bigger place outside the town. That’s when he decided to turn his old home into his own pet sitting business. And it was a hit. Chip is fantastic with animals. He is great with everybody, but pets just… melt with him. I think they can see the kindness of his soul.
Chip Taylor deserves the best things in life ‘cos he is the best man I’ve ever met. I’ve loved him since the day it took him almost half an hour to walk over and talk to me in the bar we met.
- “Every time a pretty face pops up, my brain turns into a potato- he explained, flustered ‘cos he kept stuttering as he asked for my number.
He was too sweet. Too cute. And he loved me. He had a ring that said so. But again, that didn’t stop most women who met him from flirting with him.
- “Here he is. Little Rascal had a great day today”- Chip walked to the front yard with a french bulldog, who kept barking, trying to get an extra treat from him. I smiled from a safe distance, reading a book sitting on a porch while Chip met with the dog owner. And she was as excited as Rascal was.
- “Hi baby! Did you have a good day today?”- the lady held the leash and caressed her dog’s head a few times before returning her attention fully to my husband.
- “Thank you for taking care of him.”
- “You are very welcome, Kim. It’s my job.”
- “No, it’s more than that. Rascal hates strangers, and he has been an angel with you since day one. I tell you, Chip, you are someone special.”
I know my husband blushed, ‘cos he is terrible with compliments. So he just shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. His shirt raised, showing his very toned midsection. And I swear, I had to force myself to stay put on that chair, ‘cos the way that woman looked at my husband was enough to make my blood boil. I wanted to run over and push her away from him. I wished I could tell her to get her dog and get the fuck out of our property.
But no. I didn’t. Instead, I tried to keep on reading, which was honestly impossible. But at least I didn’t move from my chair. I just stared at that scene, trying to control the urges of smashing that woman’s head against her car.
- “So, do you have plans for the weekend?”- the woman asked him, smiling flirtatiously
- “Not really.”- not the smartest answer, I’ll give you that.
- “Great! that means you can’t say no! I am having a small get-together at my place this Friday. You should totally come.”
- “Thank you, Kim, but...”
- “I’ll text you my address. I’m not taking no for an answer!”
Chip was awkward, he felt pushed to say he’d go, but I knew he didn’t want to. If he did, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Besides, he wouldn’t usually make plans without asking me first. A part of me wanted to run and help him out of that awkward situation, but I knew he had to do it on his own. Yes, he was a grown-up, but after knowing everything he had gone through before we met, a big part of me wanted to take care of him constantly. I didn’t want anything wrong ever to happen to Chip. He didn’t deserve anything bad.
- “Thanks, Kim, really, but… I think I should ask my wife first”- he whispered and smiled kindly at the woman, who didn’t hide the disappointment from her face. I have the feeling she never actually saw the ring on my husband’s finger.
- “Wife? I had no idea you were married, Chip”- he chuckled and nodded as the woman tried to act normal again. But she couldn’t.
- “Yes, I’ve been married for the last ten months.”
- “Just ten months? Well, she is a lucky woman…”
- “Thank you”- Chip petted Rascal’s head and added- “But I am sure I am the lucky one to have her. I still can’t believe she actually married me.”
- “Come on, Chip! Any woman would be happy with a man like you.”
And that was when that woman crossed the line and rubbed my husband’s arm for longer than necessary. He froze and looked at her, not knowing how to get out of that situation. Chip is a sweet soul who still has some significant issues when it comes to setting boundaries.
I jumped from my chair and walked over quickly, with a big smile on my face. The woman turned to me and raised an eyebrow, clearly not knowing who I was.
- “Hello, sorry to interrupt you, boo, but it’s getting late for our date.”
We didn’t have a date that night. But well, now we did.
Chip frowned, confused, and waited for me to explain a little more what I was saying. But, instead, I just smiled and held his hand, making sure that the woman’s hand was as far from him as possible.
- “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N), Chip’s wife.”- I said and waved.
- “Kimberly, nice to meet you.”
- “So you are Rascal’s mom. He is a sweetheart”- I kneeled and petted Rascal’s head behind his ears, right where I knew he liked it. Kim just nodded and smiled.
- “Ok, we should go, it’s getting late. Bye Chip”- she waved quickly, walking to her car. My husband said goodbye and wrapped an arm around my waist as I stood by his side and rested my head on his shoulder.
- “We are not going to her “little get-together,” by the way”- I whispered, and he chuckled.
- “Good, ’cause I didn’t want to go either. I actually had plans for the weekend, but I didn’t want to discuss them with her.”- I looked at him, raising an eyebrow, and felt his big hands caressing the lower part of my back.
- “Which plans?”
- “I’m planning to stay in bed with my wife the whole weekend, watch movies, kiss her a lot, and maybe asking for pizza.”
- “You had me at ˝stay in bed,” Chip Taylor”- I giggled and kissed his cheek- “She was flirting with you, by the way.”
- “I don’t care if she tried to flirt. I only have eyes for you, moonbeam”- I chuckled at the cheesy nickname and felt his lips on mine. They felt warm and soft and filled with love.
But it wasn’t always so easy to shake off the thoughts of a woman flirting with Chip. Unfortunately, sometimes it was harder to remain calm. Some women were more aggressive with their flirting. Some were actually way hotter than me, and sometimes that makes you doubt yourself.
I didn’t know Liza or Violet, so I never knew if they were prettier, more intelligent, or sexier than me. I couldn’t compare or compete with them either, ‘cos they were dead. But some random women made my life a little more challenging from time to time.
- “Chip? Chip Taylor?”- a soft woman’s voice interrupted our conversation and forced my husband to turn around, feeling now also her hand on his shoulder. We were at our favorite bar, having a drink, celebrating the end of the week and another successful month of Chip’s small business. We were chatting about our days, sitting at our usual table, when interrupted.
- “Anna Davis? Hi! How are you?! Long time no see!”- my husband stood up and hugged the stranger like long-lost friends reunited. I had never heard of any “Anna” before. I was trying to remember if I did.
- “I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?”- Anna said and laughed- “I can’t believe it’s really you!”- and so, they hugged again.
- “Hi”- I waved from the table and smiled at the two of them as they moved apart.
- “I’m so sorry, babe. (Y/N), this is Anna, my neighbor when I was in middle school. Anna, this is (Y/N), my wife.”
- “Hi, nice to meet you”- she shook my hand and smiled at me for a second, and then turned to my husband again and continued catching up.
Chip looked happy and excited to see her. He didn’t have many friends, he still didn’t know how to trust most people, probably why he decided to work with animals instead. He had a good relationship with Jim, the boy who helped him clean, and with a few classmates from the community college. But that was it.
- “I can’t believe you are here!”- Chip was beaming- “Are you with someone?”
- “My friends were leaving. I’m visiting one of my best friends, who moved here a few years ago. But she has to work tomorrow morning, so she wanted to go home.”
- “Do you wanna sit with us for a while?”- Chip asked her and turned to me smiling. Of course, I couldn’t say no. Well, he didn’t actually ask; he just looked at me, and I moved my chair to make room for one more on the table.
- “I would love to! Thank you!.”
I loved the idea of meeting Anna, at first. I didn’t know many people from my husband’s past, basically just his parents. The fact she was his friend growing up sounded amazing, and it meant I could finally talk with someone who knew him when he was a kid and could tell me more stories about my husband.
But Anna had other plans. My husband blinded Anna. She basically ignored me, and he was so excited to see her and talk to her, he didn’t even notice I was being left out of the whole conversation.
At first, it was ok. Chip wanted to catch up with Anna, know what she was doing with her life, and all that. So he asked for her parents and family. Apparently, they were pretty close growing up.
- “Remember each Friday we had a secret sleepover?”- she asked and laughed. My husband nodded and sipped his drink.
- “Yeah! I would sneak into your house and watch a movie.”
- “You know, my parents knew you were coming to hang out after curfew. They just didn’t think it was wrong”- she added and laughed- “I’m just glad they didn’t know about the day we tried smoking for the first time!”
Chip burst into laughter, and so did Anna. I just stared at them and sighed. Neither of them explained the story. They were just too caught up in each other to even notice I was there.
Yes, I was feeling jealous of Chip’s long-lost childhood friend. I knew it made no sense, but somehow, he completely forgot I existed when she was there. Yes, it was probably ‘cos he was surprised to bump into her at a bar on a random night after so many years.
But the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was gorgeous. She had long legs, beautiful golden hair, green eyes. The girl could go to a freaking beauty pageant and win it. Besides, Anna wasn’t acting friendly, if you ask me. She kept rubbing my husband’s arm, repeating how excited she was to see him, and saying over and over again how good he looked… it was a little too much.
- “I tell you, Chip, you haven’t changed a bit!”- Anna smiled and looked into his chocolate eyes, and I swear she nearly sighed. I couldn’t blame her. He is dreamy. But he is my husband, and it felt wrong.
- “Neither have you,”- he added and turned to me for a second. I looked kindly into his eyes, knowing he was happy, and that was enough to make me feel happy too.
- “Can I get you another drink, moonbeam?”- he asked me and stood up.
- “Yes, penguin, please”- Chip nodded and blushed as I called him by his favorite nickname and then turned to Anna.
- “Another?”
- “Sure!”
And suddenly, we were on our own.
- “So, how long have you been married?”- Anna asked me and looked at me innocently.
- “A little over ten months.”
- “Just married! Congratulations. You must still be living the honeymoon!”
- “Yes, we are.”- I giggled and turned to look at Chip, waiting for our drink at the bar. It wasn’t hard being stuck at the honeymoon phase with him. Every day, he made every day feel like the first day we were together, even after three years of dating and ten months married.
- “We used to date when we were kids,”- Anna simply said and chuckled - “It was very childish, but I was his first kiss.”
- “Really?”- I smiled at her, making my best not to look jealous at all. “That’s so cute!”
- “He is adorable. He was the sweetest boy growing up.”- Anna added and kept her eyes on Chip. But for a few seconds, I could see the longing in them, and my struggle not to show how jealous I was got a little harder.
- “So when was the last time you saw Chip?”- I asked and kept my eyes on her, reading her expressions. It took her a few extra seconds to stop staring at him to turn and look at me.
- “When I moved out of town when I was fifteen.”- she sighed and chuckled- “Seems it was a lifetime ago.”
- “Ok, here are your drinks,”- Chip appeared and smiled- “Plus, I ordered some more nachos, ‘cos I’m getting hungry.”- I chuckled and held his hand upon the table, playing with his fingers between mine. Chip looked at me and opened his mouth to say something when Anna interrupted him.
- “Remember that summer you broke your arm ‘cos you fell from the tree in Shawn’s backyard?”
And my husband laughed, forgetting what he was going to tell me.
I stood in front of the mirror and tried to fix my makeup. I looked tired. I was tired. It was Friday night, and I wasn’t twenty-three anymore. I was weary, and all I could think of was getting into my bed with my husband and getting good twelve-hour sleep.
But he and Anna were still talking and having a blast together, remembering the good old times. Now, if you ask me, I had the feeling Anna wanted to do more than just talking to my husband, but he was oblivious to any of her intentions. That was until I walked out of the bathroom and saw Anna’s arm wrapped around Chip as they were dancing.
She was dancing with my husband, and he was laughing. Ok, that hurt. It hurt a lot.
I sat at our table and drank what was left of my drink. I stared at them for a moment and evaluated my options. I could storm out of that place, maybe make a scene and yell. But no, I trusted my husband. I knew he wasn’t trying to hurt me or even cheat on me with her. No. He was naive and a little awkward. But by the way Anna’s hands moved on his body, clearly, she wasn’t naive at all.
- “Oh! I’m sorry!”- Anna said laughing when they reached back our table- “I just asked Chip to dance with me ‘cos I love that song.”
- “That’s ok”- I smiled at her and held my husband’s hand tight upon the table.
- “But Chip is such a great dancer! He really knows how to move!”- Anna was asking for it. She wanted to be smacked. But I behaved.
- “He really does,”- I answered and smiled
- “I hope you are not jealous!”- I turned to her and frowned, pretending to be confused
- “Of course not! Why would I?”
- “I don’t know! It’s just that… he was mine way before he was yours and…”
- “He isn’t mine”- I cut her off, and for once, my voice stopped being nice and friendly- “And he is definitely not yours. He is not a dog, Anna, he is a person, and the only owner of his soul is himself.”
Anna stared at me in silence, and Chip wide opened his eyes, surprised by my tone of voice.
- “What I’m trying to say is that… I met him when…”
- “I know what you are trying to imply Anna, you’ve been trying to do it ever since you sat at our table. You feel like you need to prove something, but you don’t. Really.”
Chip held my hand tight and kissed it sweetly. He didn’t say anything to me. He just looked at me with apologetic eyes as I cut him a short smile.
- “Ok, I think I better go now”- Anna stood up and just waved- “It was great seeing you again, Chip.”
My husband smiled and waved as Anna walked away. Then, when he was sure she had left the place, he turned to me. I sipped what was left of my drink and sighed.
- “Sorry if I was rude”- my words were a whisper only Chip could hear.
- “No, moonbeam. You weren’t rude at all. I’m sorry.”
- “Chip Taylor, you didn’t do anything wrong”- I leaned and kissed his lips softly, cupping his face with both hands.
- “I feel like I did.”
- “No, boo, really. She was… clearly trying to get under your belt.”
- “I shouldn’t have danced with her, but she pushed me...”- Chip excused himself and kissed my hand again, as I still held his face and caressed her cheeks with my thumbs.
- “Yeah, you should work on that “No” thing a little harder,”- I whispered and chuckled.
- “Sorry if she made you feel jealous. I had a huge crush on her when we were kids.”
- “She said she was your first kiss”- Chip opened my mouth, but no word came from it for a few seconds.
- “Funny, I told her that just ‘cos she said I was her first kiss, but actually my first kiss was with her cousin Alice.”
I couldn’t hold back the laughter as Chip looked at me with guilty eyes as if that was the biggest secret he had about his past.
- “Well, I bet if I run, I can still catch her!! I need to tell her the news!!”- I said and stood up, just to feel Chip’s arms around me, protectively.
- “Let her think that. We all know who all my kisses belong to now.”
Chip held me tight and close to him as his lips rubbed mine slowly. I felt my head spin as his tongue slowly touched mine, deepening the kiss. I couldn’t help but moan at the sensation of Chip’s sweet and passionate kiss. He made sure to make me feel how much he loved him every time he kissed me. In a weird way, Chip’s kisses always felt like our first and last. I think he was always trying to show me his feelings, ‘cos his previous trauma taught him he didn’t know when a kiss could be the last.
- “I love you so much, Mrs. Taylor,”- he whispered, and the title made my knees feel weak- “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
- “I love you more, Mr. Taylor,”- I replied and kissed his lips sweetly one more time- “And just between you and me, I am completely yours.”- I confessed and giggled nervously.
- “I am yours too, moonbeam. You own my heart, and I only want you.”- he whispered and kissed me one more time.
- “You just want me?”- I repeated, and he nodded, looking into my eyes filled with love- “Of all those women who wanna do you, you just want me?”
- “Which women?”- he asked me, clearly confused
- “A lot of women out there keep giving you the fuck eyes.”
- “What?! No way”
- “Do you think Kim invited you to her house for a small get-together? She wanted to get under your belt, penguin.”
- “But I am your penguin, that means I am not looking for any other woman. I just want you.”
- “Just me,”- I repeated again, and he nodded.
- “Just you, Mrs. Taylor”- I sighed, pleased, and closed my eyes for a second “Wanna go home?”
- “You still have to dance with me,”- I pouted, and he held my hand.
- “Whatever my wife wants.”
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