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your-regular-toast-enjoyer · 1 year

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Hihihihihhihihi!!!

Can I request a Damian Wayne x shy reader, enemies to lovers/tsundere Dami? Like, the reader is super sweet and has a very apparent crush on Robin and Damian makes fun of her a little for it. He’s kind of a prick but only because he has the inability to recognize his crushy wushy feelings. Unbeknownst to him though, she has actual feelings for Damian and only uses her crush on Robin to hide that fact, mostly because she thinks he would never feel the same way.

Eventually, Damian perhaps finds a drawing of himself with hearts/confession (or something along those lines) in the readers sketchbook and she freaks out, ready for him to reject her feelings. He doesn’t though and they kiss 😚

Extra points if he reveals he’s Robin to her

Thank youuuuuuu

Tsundere! Damian Wayne x Reader

Damian Wayne x reader or Damian Wayne/reader

Word count: 5654 words

TW: GN reader, adult Damian Wayne (inspired and mostly based off of Damian in Batman beyond & Injustice 2: Gods among us), mentions drugs, Damian being rude & Damian borderline breaking into someone's home.

You and Damian probably went to the same university. Perhaps you were an exchange student, who came from either another country or another part of the US, whichever it is, Damian ended up being assigned as the guy to show you around campus. Maybe Damian signed up to do so for extra points, or, (much more likely), he was forced to do so by the school as a punishment for him acting out against a professor.

The two of you may or may not have studied the same thing at uni. Damian probably studied something relating to business, (so that he could better help Wayne Enterprises), despite him actually wanting to either study something relating to the arts or veterinary sciences. Alas, Damian’s feelings of obligation again weighed out his own wishes and wants. This wouldn’t hinder him in showing you around, however. He might’ve even used it as an excuse to skip some of his less informative classes without getting reprimanded by the professors.

Damian would be thorough in his duties of showing you around. There would not be a single spot on the tiny map of the school grounds, which you were given on the first day, which remained unexplored. It took… a while. Almost two weeks of the green-eyed man showing up at your dorm and dragging you off to your classes, picking you up after them and then taking you to a new spot on the map. While any other guide might’ve shown you the important spots; cafeteria, dorms, the auditoriums and the like. Damian refused to do anything half-heartedly. You ended up knowing where every brick of the buildings and every piece of gravel from the campus roads were.

If you complained about being dragged everywhere when you’d much rather stay at your dorm and relax, Damian would call you ungrateful and an idiot, before hauling you off again.

It was around this time when Damian developed the habit of grabbing your wrist and towing you around like a toddler in Disneyland as if you were at risk of getting lost and never being found again. He would actually start seeing you a bit like someone who was semi-incapable of taking care of themselves, not in a “this person is pretty much a child in an adult’s body”-type of way, but more so like “I am now responsible for protecting this person because that is my duty.” Yeah… His vigilantism would definitely make him feel like he was now responsible for your safety, like a scary guard dog. He wouldn’t tell you this, of course. That’d make him feel vulnerable. Instead, he just scolded you constantly, making you aware that he felt as if you were incapable of protecting yourself: “Ugh! Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?! You idiot! Here, have my scarf! No, I’m not gonna let you walk outside without anything other than just your indoor clothes on! It’s not summer anymore, open your eyes, do you see how there’re no more leaves on the trees, that means it’s cold! … I don’t care that your class is just on the other side of the road! Put on the damn scarf!”

Most welcome guides don’t hang around after more than the first week, but Damian did. You became part of his friend group, even though he made it look as if it was against his will and he was only doing it because clearly, you were too shy to make your own friends.

It was a relatively closed-off friend group and they all seemed so secretive, but they treated you nicely because if Damian was vouching for you, you must’ve been the closest thing the human race can come to perfection. You obviously had no idea that they were all vigilante sidekicks… Sidekicks which you knew well… really well…

Jonathan Kent was probably the nicest of them, being three years older than Damian and you, but still only a year ahead of you in university… Apparently, he had taken off multiple sabbatical years to help his father with working on their family farm, a topic which you listened to enthusiastically, no matter how often he repeated himself or how off tangent he got while explaining certain parts, like how he found the best way to pet their cows or how to tell which chickens would lay the best eggs… It almost made Damian jealous. He would never admit it, of course. No, he explained it away as just being annoyed at how his best friend kept talking off the ear of the person he introduced to the group, shutting out all the others because the glasses-wearing man finally found someone who could stand to listen to his farmer’s tales. He blamed Jon for this, not you. He almost felt pity for you, since he couldn’t fathom anyone enjoying listening to someone explaining how to best milk a cow.

Months passed, you got closer to the group and they all started to call you their “civilian friend”... Not to your face, of course. However, the one you were clearly closest to was Jon, he absolutely adored you and might’ve even gained something along the lines of a puppy-like infatuation. As a result of you and Jon’s newfound friendship, Damian called you out for having a crush on the blue-eyed farmer. You refused vehemently, but the rest of the group picked up on the teasing. Verbally ganging up on both you and Jon, calling you the lovebirds. Jon simply laughed it off, but you felt uncomfortable with all the focus suddenly landing on you. Damian, too, started to feel uncomfortable as he started to question if he was right and that you and Jon actually had a crush on each other. It made him feel weirdly empty, yet he ignored it, disliking the implications of such emotions.

Whenever one of the members of the group returned with bruises all over their legs, arms and face, (usually from a confrontation with one of their nemeses, but also sometimes simply due to their impossibly harsh training), you were the one who patched them up. You never questioned the frequency with which your friends got hurt, assuming that they didn’t want to talk about it since no one ever brought it up or seemed surprised when yet another one of them needed treatment.

Damian loathed when you assisted the others, a deep pit forming in his stomach, but also detested how his entire body would light up like a fire, whenever you’d help treat a bruise or cut on his face. He especially disliked it when you aided Jon, the two of you always giggled as the blue-eyed man would ask you to patch up one of the few cuts or blue marks that his accelerated healing hadn’t fixed yet. Damian would often wonder why Jon would even ask for your help when he knew his injuries would be gone in a few hours… ‘because he has a crush on them’, a little voice in Damian’s head would whisper and he’d feel marginally worse than he had at the start of the day.

What Damian didn’t know, was that you actually had a crush on him, rather than his best friend. When you weren’t surrounded by the rest of your friends, the two of you clicked amazingly well, despite his many cruel insults. You may or may not have shared similar interests, but you showed curiosity towards his hobbies and it made his heart melt. When you were together one-on-one, Damian would be doing most of the talking, clearly showing you his feelings of grandeur and general confidence. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it attractive in a weird way. But what really made your heart beat with the fury of an angry drummer, was when he became protective.

Perhaps you had a tendency to let people stomp all over you, preferring to remain quiet rather than speak out when you disagreed with something. Well, that simply didn’t fly with Damian around, he’d be quick to jump to your defence, standing in front of you protectively and confronting whoever did you wrong. There was only one person in this world who got to insult or otherwise bother you and that was him.

This might have been the clearest when you and your friend group decided to go to Batburgers one day for dinner. You had ordered something which Jon had recommended, but decided to leave out one of the components. Perhaps you were getting jokerised chips(fries), but you didn’t want the rainbow mystery sauce that came with it. It was an admittedly simple order, “Jokerised chips(fries), without the sauce”... Well, the workers either didn’t listen or forgot, because when your order came, guess what? Large clumps of multi-coloured sauce floated down the length of the yellow fried sticks. You immediately decided to just ignore the mistake, it wasn’t that big of a deal and you could scrape the sauce off of the less affected pieces and eat those… Yeah, no need, because Damian quickly spotted your dejected facial expression and leaned closer to you, whispering “What’s up? Got your order wrong?” You didn’t even have to say anything, the moment you gave him a shy nod, he was already standing up from his seat and ready to fight each and every one of the workers… There was thankfully no need for violence, but the way Damian practically screamed into the poor cashier’s face, “You added the damn sauce when they specifically asked for it to be removed!” … Well, he definitely challenged his inner Karen, just for you. It worked though and you were suddenly met with not only a new batch of your previous order, but Damian also decided to buy you a Bat-mite meal which was technically meant for children and not a grown person like yourself, but you appreciated the gesture, thanking him profusely, to the point where even he became bashful. “Okay, okay! Enough thanking me! It’s not that big of a deal! Now eat your food! The rest of us are almost finished! حمار/Himar!”

It might actually be at the Bat-burger trip that you let slip that you had a teeny-tiny… not at all supermassive crush on Robin. Maybe you received a little Robin figurine in your Bat-mite meal and, against your desperate attempts, began grinning like mad. “What’s up with that creepy smile”, Damian interrogated, leaning over you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder to get a better view of the toy you were staring at. “It’s nothing”, you’d chuckle to yourself, your face heating up, unaware of whether it was because of Damian’s actions or the fact that you had been caught sending heart eyes at a figurine. One of the others in the friend group leaned over as well, seeing the statuette in your hands. “Oh my, a Robin figurine, what a coincidence… Wait-”, whoever it was, they were interrupted by Damian. “You were smiling like that at figurine… what is wrong with you?! Are you planning on melting its face off or something? I knew you were a psycho when I met you, it’s always the quiet ones”. The others share in their teasing, with poor you trapped in the middle with only Jon trying to make them stop.

Well, to save your reputation, you ended up blurting out that Robin is your favourite hero, and the entire table shut up. A moment of silence. Then a chorus of disbelieving persuasion erupted, all of them trying to highlight their own hero-personas, telling of how they’re much stronger, cuter, faster and whatever other positive attributes they could come up with: “What?! Robin? Why? Wouldn’t you prefer-”, “-do you really think that caped little gremlin is the better option, why not-”, “-I think superboy is pretty cute, don’t you, Y/n? I mean, he may not be your favourite, but you at least like him, right?”

Almost out of pity, you ended up agreeing that you almost liked Superboy as much as Robin, just because Jon’s eyes lit up so much… If you were honest, you only really knew of Superboy because he had worked so closely with Robin, but you didn’t have the heart to share that information out loud. Curiously, for the rest of the night, Damian looked so oddly proud, gloating almost. He kept bringing up how Robin was your favourite, something which made poor Jon look like a kicked puppy and the others roll their eyes in pure irritation. Damian also treated you more rudely in his own teasing way throughout the evening, making little jabs about how you were probably one of those bizarre fans who would get themselves in danger, just to see Robin sweep in and save them. In a clumsy effort to play along with his joke, you admitted that you certainly wouldn’t have been opposed to Robin saving you, which you could’ve sworn elicited a slight blush across his cheeks, but you knew better, Damian didn’t blush ever, and certainly not because you sang the praises of the green-masked sidekick. However, he definitely got red in the face as you revealed that you actually had a Robin poster hung up above your bed in your childhood room. “See? What did I say? You are a creep, Y/n.”

After the Bat-Burger dinner, Damian insisted on walking you home like he always did whenever night had fallen. It was here that, after a long string of teasing on Damian’s part, you confessed that you had a celebrity crush on the human-sized traffic light. He had become eerily silent as his head was filled with a strange heat, something he had never tried before. Sure, it reminded him of the ‘crushes’ that he’d had previously on people like Rachel Roth, Kara Danvers and even briefly Stephanie Brown, but they had in no way been this intense… It scared him a little… a lot.

So, what did he do with this uncertainty of his feelings as you kept expressing how handsome, smart and strong you found the current Robin? He borderline bullied you for it. “Oh! Really? You’re into men who just follow their papas? Who just hides in others’ shadows? Pathetic. Don’t come crying back to me when you someday marry some stupid trust fund baby who treats you like hell”, you had to bite down harshly on your lips to not point out the hypocrisy in Damian’s statement, simply nodding along with the insults, a knowing smile present on you lips.

After a while of insulting the vigilante, Damian turned his harshness to you, “You really think someone like him would go out with you? I mean, he has a whole fan club, what makes you special? I mean you can barely order for yourself, let alone flirt!” You shrugged most of his critique off, you knew he didn’t really mean it… Or at least you hoped he didn’t, sometimes you did consider that he perhaps just despised the sight of you, but let you hang around out of pity. Still, his insulting of you liking someone so out of your range didn’t particularly hurt you, you already knew that it’d never happen, it did, however, make you think about whether ‘rude manboy, hiding behind his father with a cocky smile’ was simply your type, which in itself was a concerning revelation, but it also made you come to the conclusion that Damian and Robin were surprisingly similar, both personality and looks-wise.

Damian, obviously, didn’t mean a word of his rant. He almost considered whether Robin and by extension himself, could ever even be halfway good enough for someone as lovable and charming as you. For Pete’s sake! You literally listened to Jon’s farm rambles without complaint, put up with Damian’s piss-poor attitude and patched them all up when they were hurt… How much more perfect could a person get?! Well, maybe it was Damian’s absolute hatred for feeling below someone that wasn’t his parents or grandfather… for the first time in his life… that made him somewhat enjoy being so rude to you… somewhat.

Slinging out cruel remarks your way made him feel better about himself and offered him better control of his emotions. It kept you at a comfortable distance where he could more easily control his disgusting chrushy-wushy emotions. Disgusting emotions… which he so desperately wanted to release and channel into actually caring for you… But he couldn’t, he didn’t know how to break down his own walls in a way that wouldn’t give you a mental whiplash and cause you to suspect him of something sinister. Not to mention the fact that you probably secretly despised him for his harsh treatment of you.

He had half a mind to confess and then roll with whatever came after, but the other side of his brain, the logical side, the dominating side, told him to keep quiet and simply ride out whatever feelings he was experiencing… It was pathetic, really. He felt as if was going to go up in flames, cry and die all at the same time, the latter of which he had actually tried, if he didn’t confess to you. Yet, even that was better than the plain rejection he envisioned you’d give him.

Well, one day your shared dancing around your feelings came to an end when Damian got a not-so-brilliant idea. It was while he was on patrol. Damian, high from the adrenaline of a huge fight with Killer Croc and Poison Ivy (…as well as some iridescent dust that the two had thrown in his face), decided to visit your dorm.

His drugged-up condition made him neglect how creepy it might look to simply show up at your home, he had purely good intentions, but Damian had never been good at normal friendly gestures and the fluffy feeling inside of his skull surely didn’t make it any better. He knew you liked Robin, so he pondered to himself, ‘Wouldn’t they enjoy a visit from their favourite vigilante? Give them an autograph? Take a photo with them? Talk to them? Yeah! Of course, they would! I’ll just tell them that ‘Damian sent me’, they’ll be ecstatic!”

So, with that idea in mind, Damian made his way to your dorm. Climbing up to the window he knew was yours, (he had visited you a hundred times, after all), and knocked with two of his knuckles. He had forgotten that most people are not awake at 1 am, and so, he ended up banging his sore knuckles against the glass of your window for almost five minutes straight until he finally heard rustling from within. When you rose from your bed, Damian almost cooed out loud. Your hair was a mess, sticking out in all directions and your pyjamas was clearly a few sizes too big as they hung on your body in a cute yet awkward way. Opening your window with a disturbed look in your eyes, unable to see the man hanging just below your field of vision, covered by the dark of night. You almost screamed as Damian slung himself into your room, quickly covering your mouth with his gloved hand as it was clear that you were about to cry out in horror.

Yeah… So Damian clearly hadn’t thought this endeavour out particularly well, which was very unlike him, but he had come to the realisation at this point that he was not feeling quite like himself either. Still, as he held you close to him, one hand covering your mouth and the other at your waist, he couldn’t help but easily slip into the story he had prepared previously. With an apologetic smile, he quickly let go of you, backing away with his arms raised high to show you that he meant no harm.

“W-who are you? What are you d-doing in m-my room?” You stuttered out, your hands shaking like leaves in the wind. Damian huffed out in humour as he went to close your window, he didn’t want you to get cold.

“Come on, I thought I was your favourite hero. Damian told me so”, a cheeky Cheshire grin spread on his lips as he turned to you, his index finger tapping the side of his nose to indicate that he knew more than he let on.

“You’re Robin?” You questioned, unsure of your assumption. Somehow he looked different close up than far away, more human and way more similar to Damian than had ever occurred to you previously. The young man staggered closer to you, arms outstretched, as he bowed deeply before your feet, “In the flesh”. His steps seemed calculated yet something felt off and you almost wondered if he was drunk, although, if he were, he was covering it up well.

As he stood bowed like a theatre actor in front of you, he slowly raised his mask-clad face, a cocky smile clear as he smoothly bowed his left leg, letting one knee hit the floor and his arms dangle by his side. Once sitting on the floor, he gently grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips, stopping just before they met your skin. “May I?” He requested, mask-covered eyes glancing up at you. Your breath was caught in your throat and Damian realised how long he had yearned to do something like this. He was sure that you didn’t like his civilian persona romantically in the slightest, he was purposefully rude to you for crying out loud! But something about having the knowledge that you had a crush on Robin, and the effect of whatever it was he had gotten thrown in his face earlier, made it easier for him to act out all the things he had wanted to do with you for so long.

Looking down at him with a shy demeanour, you nodded apprehensively. If it hadn’t been for the quality of the man’s costume, you weren’t sure if you’d have believed him to be the actual Robin. As soon as he saw your accepting gesture, Damian’s lips connected with the back of your hand as he folded the other arm behind him, looking like a prince from a fairytale.

The flirtations of Robin continued throughout the entire night as he let himself go emotionally, whatever he had been given slowly wearing off, which allowed him to properly enjoy your company, unhindered by his usual need to keep up a grumpy façade. You clearly enjoyed it too, although you’d sometimes cast guilty glances at the floor when Robin leaned in too close.

Damian realised that this was probably some type of wish fulfilment for you and you might’ve felt bad for enjoying it, but really you shouldn’t, he concluded. You had nothing to feel bad about because this was wish fulfilment for Damian too.

At one point, Robin took your phone, demanding that you unlock it. Technically he could’ve done it himself, you had told Damian the password, but if he had to keep up the story of ‘Damian’ having sent him… well, he couldn’t very well show to you that he knew your phone’s code. After you followed Robin’s command without a complaint, you handed the device back to him. Damian knew that loud noises were prohibited after eight at your dorm, but he also didn’t care, if anyone complained, he’d use his role as Robin to thwart them away, claiming that it somehow held a tactical advantage for his justice fighting. They were all idiots anyways, how would they know?

Turning on an old and slow 60’s song like ‘Put your head on my shoulder’, ‘Can’t take my eyes off you’ or ‘Everybody loves somebody’, before offering you a hand, Damian felt as if he was on cloud nine. “Dance with me, beloved”. Your clear nervousness was so apparent, it almost felt like he was torturing you. Yet, you accepted the outstretched hand, getting pulled into the dark-haired man’s chest. As he slowly guided you around in a slow dance, one hand holding yours tightly, the other laying comfortably at the curve of your spine, it occurred to you how his accent was incredibly similar to Damian’s. A brief thought that the two might be the same was interrupted as the mask-clad man carefully picked up your chin, moving it towards his face, once again, stopping right before the two of you made contact. “May I, my dear?” A silent nod of your head was all Robin needed as he laid his lips heavily upon yours, moving slowly. Damian felt as if his mind was blown, he had dreamed of this moment for weeks, afraid that it might never happen or that he would be disappointed if it did, he was a Wayne after all, you certainly wouldn’t be the first person he’d kissed… but now? Now, that he finally experienced it. His mind was blown, and the tips of his long fingers trembled as they held the bottom of your face. He felt as if his body had been zapped from all the pain and suffering he had experienced throughout the years, a sense of being lighter than the wind engulfed him as he pressed you closer to him. Why had he held out so long, when he could’ve done this weeks, if not months, ago?!

When he left that night, he pressed another kiss to your lips and promised to return soon, which he did. As a matter of fact, you started to receive regular visits from the masked vigilante, an activity which almost lasted until your end-of-year break. Robin would drop by for an hour or two after patrol. With four or five knocks, he’d get you to open the window for him, before slinging himself into your room and greeting you with a kiss. You had at one point left the window agape, so that he wouldn’t have to knock, but he had scolded you for getting yourself cold, with the freezing winds finding the space of your room a cosy place to fill.

You never informed your friends of your secret visitor. You did quietly, yet clearly embarrassed, thank Damian for sending the sidekick your way, to which he simply smacked the back of your head gently, saying something along the lines of, “Well, you’re too much of a wuss to ever go up to him yourself, and I coincidentally met him at a Wayne enterprise meeting. Thought, why not? It didn’t really mean anything to me.” Despite his words, behind his act, Damian wore the smuggest of grins. You were adorable as you stood there, smiling awkwardly, clearly hiding the fact that you and ‘Robin’ had done a little more than just take photos and get an autograph.

When Robin was with you, he’d flirt and otherwise apply his charisma to get closer to you, and you’d slowly open up to him, telling him about your interests, your hobbies and your friends… Notable among your descriptions was Damian’s. Yeah, it was a little awkward for the man, sitting there, listening to you explain how ‘Damian’ was probably the coolest person in the world, how he was admittedly the rudest man you’d ever met, but that it held a certain charm to it… His blush would’ve been unmistakable had his mask not covered the top part of his face.

Still, even with the reassurance that you didn’t despise his civilian persona, he was afraid of dropping the mask. You had obviously not told his vigilante-self that you held a crush on his civilian one, which simply confirmed his fears that you definitely didn’t hold any romantic feelings towards the Damian you knew. So, for the time being, he’d keep that secret to himself. He enjoyed your company and the romance between you too much to ruin it for either of you…

Robin pretty much snogging you became a pretty regular occurrence as well, which, while you definitely enjoyed it, made you feel a weird sense of guilt build up in your stomach. You definitely had a crush on Robin, how could you not? However, your crush on Damian was a hundred times larger, and every time Robin exclaimed that you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, you’d imagine that the words were stumbling from Damian’s plump lips. It not only felt wrong for you to enjoy the attention of the vigilante due to some misplaced sense of loyalty towards Damian, but it also felt as if you were doing an injustice to Robin, who came to you almost every night, proclaiming his deep affections for you, while you were thinking of another man… It felt so cruel… Not downright evil, but certainly mean-spirited and discomforting.

One night you decided that enough was enough. You could no longer pretend that you only cherished Robin, when clearly it was Damian you yearned for, no matter how out of your league he was and even though you were definitely not going to confess to your friend. It was borderline malignant to string the traffic-light-themed hero along.

Damian had dropped in, like always, only to find your eyes focused on the ground, refusing to meet his gaze, even as he crouched down in front of you and grabbed your hands tightly in his. “What’s wrong?” He asked, confused and more than a little concerned.

“I have something to tell you”, with those words you sent the man spiralling. A thousand horrible possibilities filled his head. “Were you hurt?”, “Did you actually fall for Jon?”, “Did you do something illegal?”, “Were you-?”... No, he had been careful, that couldn’t be it… In less than a second, he had gone through a long checklist of possibilities, could it be this or that? Certain things were ruled out, others were brought in and he could feel his head start to ache.

“We can’t- I can’t… You shouldn’t come here anymore, it’s not fair to you.” With those words, Damian’s heart plummeted. What had he done wrong? Had you found out about his secret identity? Had he hurt you? Were you just no longer attracted to his vigilante persona?

“Why?” It was a quiet whisper that passed his lips, so clearly filled with heartbreak that it almost brought tears to your eyes, yet you knew you were doing the right thing… “I’m in love with someone else”. Jon’s smiling face pooped into Damian’s head. Of course… It was bound to happen, the half-alien held a golden retriever-like charm that Damian couldn’t even begin to emulate… He was so sure that it had to be his best friend who stole the love of his life, yet, even though he knew it’d hurt him, he had to be sure that it was indeed Jon… Just before he would lace the blue-eyed man’s breakfast with kryptonite… just kidding, or maybe not… I digress. As he waited for your response with bated breath, you teased the answer, “It’s someone you know, or have at least spoken to-”. Superboy, Robin nodded, so convinced that you and Jon had something, an unspeakable chemistry that he couldn’t even inspire to gain.

“-It’s Damian. Damian Wayne. The guy who sent you here in the first place, and the one I told you about. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to end like this. But, it was unfair to string you along-”, you spluttered, feeling as if your stomach was being ripped out as you saw the dejected look on Robin’s face. The dark-haired man, however, felt shocked. You wanted Damian?! You wanted him?! The real him, not just the vigilante persona he adopted around you… His shock gave way to ecstasy as he embraced you and crashed his lips into yours. You stood still, afraid of what the hero was planning on doing to you for breaking his heart, when suddenly. “ حمار/Himar”, something about that phrase seemed to make a revelation clear for you. Even if you didn’t believe your own mind at first, there was no denying reality as Damian ripped off his mask, revealing what you had suspected. “Guess you couldn’t get enough of me, huh? Crushing on both of my alter egos, if that’s not dedication, I don’t know what is”, the green-eyed man teased you with an almost mocking smirk, one which you were used to seeing on Damian’s feature, but which almost seemed misplaced on Robin… You weren’t complaining though, it looked good on him… better than it should have.

Needless to say, the two of you started dating after that, for real this time. He let you in on his vigilante life and introduced you to his brothers…. Both by their real names and their hero names. Richard greeted you with open arms, he was simply happy for his brother, adoring how cute he found the two of you together. Jason didn’t care much but found you a much better alternative to what he had feared the demon spawn would’ve brought home. Bruce and Tim were nervous though, now that you knew all of their identities, you put them in a position of danger… What if you revealed that information to the press? They’d be done for. Tim would most definitely make you sign an NDA, (Non-disclosure agreement), whereas Bruce might actually make you sign a contract stating that you will marry Damian after university… Just to keep you close to the family in the unlikely case that you’re actually working for a rogue. You will be met with a healthy amount of scepticism from both Bruce and Tim for the first many years, both would’ve preferred if Damian had gotten together with a vigilante, but as the years go by, they slowly warm up to you, Tim quicker than Bruce, especially if you share an interest like chess, video gaming or programming. So in short? Tsundere Damian is practically just normal Damian without a stop button.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it! I personally feel like Damian is pretty much always a tsundere, but I tried to exaggerate it here, which I hope came through, lol!

Also for everyone else who might've been wondering where I've been for the past few weeks, do not worry, I'm not stopping my writing! I simply have a bunch of essays, which I've had to write as of late... The woes of an IB high school student... I'll have my Christmas break from the 23rd of Dec. - the 2nd of Jan., so I'll probably be able to write some more during that period!

#damian wayne x you #damian wayne #batboys x reader #dc x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #tsundere x reader #robin x reader #damian wayne robin #dc robin #damian al ghul

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Counterweight // Rhett Abbott

Summary: At the Amelia County Fair, you prove to yourself and the people around you that you’re one of the boys. You and Rhett finally fall head first into the slow burn love you’d been harbouring for one another since your childhood.

Warnings: Mentions of Rodeo accident. Injuries sustained from said accident. Best friends to lovers trope. Rhett Abbott x Female Reader. Fluff. Angst.

Word Count: 6.5k

Author Note: This weekend we welcomed Rhett Abbott and Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia to the every growing list of fictional men I’d let rail me.

Amelia County Fair. It had always been your favourite place to be—the smell of kettle corn always lingered in the air the closer you sauntered over to the state rides, forever in search of a Pluto Pup that rivalled one you had in your youth. Carnival food—albeit not the best for your gut, would forever be a comfort that you sort out when you were nearing your call time. You could never ride on an empty stomach. For a serial spewer, your thought process always led you to believe it hurt less to throw up a small amount of food than to hurl stomach acid and bile.

“I thought I saw your name on the mixed division sheet.” Rhett stood behind you in line for a Pluto Pup. Was he going to order one? Fuck no—but he’d seen you gallivanting off after handing over Sir Rocco to the holding pens. Knowing exactly where you were heading. Rhett Abbott saw you as his counterweight, the one thing that kept him in line, in pace, in check. “You competing in the camp draft too?” He asked as you passed the lady at the stand the three dollars she’d asked for and stepped aside. Rhett followed as to not hold up the line.

As you stepped aside ready to entertain the boy who grew up on the ranch that boarded your father’s, you watched as he tipped his brim and smiled softly at Maria as she walked past in what had to have been the shortest skirt you’d ever seen.

“Mornin’ Maria, nice day for it, yeah?” You wanted to gag as she kept walking, turning on her heels to respond to Rhett like she had him wrapped around her little finger.

“It’s a nice day every day Rhett—it’s getting it that counts.” It almost hurt how hard you rolled your eyes and groaned beside your best mate. You could have sworn he’d been in love with that girl since you were both sixteen. Too busy pining over her to realise you were always right by his side. In his corner. He’d worked all his life with hands on his throat, searching for highs to balance the lows. You just wished he saw you there too, right by his side.

“Y/n, I saw your name down for the camp draft?” Maria turned her attention to you as you looked down at your boots for a brief second. Not really wanting to draw too much attention to yourself.

“Yeah well, I thought I’d give it another go—see what happens.” You had come in second place at last year's state fair, on your own horse Ella. You were this year's pick for top spot. The talk of the town. Only for all the wrong reasons.

“Yeah well, good luck with it—not that you need it of course.” She smiled before heading off. You knew that the moment she turned her back that Rhett’s eyes lingered down to her ass. Slapping his chest as you scoffed, secretly wishing that you had that much attention from your best friend.

“If that skirt were any shorter Rhett you’d see her bloody tonsils.” You could have sworn the laugh Rhett let out came from the heavens above. It was lengthy and genuine, the kind of laugh that takes you by surprise and stems from a place so wholesome it shows the world such a true and deep part of you. You didn't hear Rhett laugh all that much these days, too serious and broody for his own good. “I’m just having a lend.” You felt the need to clear the air as the lady at the food stand handed you your Pluto Pup. “She’s nice enough–” You truly had nothing against Maria, except for the fact she drew all Rhett's attention away from you. He’d never see the way you looked at him while he was too busy looking at her.

Everyone else however, including Maria–knew how you looked at Rhett Abbott. To put it frankly it was quite clearly the most pathetic display of puppy love they’d ever seen.

“I know I know.” Rhett cooed with the corner of his mouth as he walked with you back to the Rodeo Rings. “I bet you a slab you won't win–” He teased as you took a bite, offering him some as he politely declined. He could never eat before a competition and never understood how you could.

“Just make sure it's full strength and cold.” It was always the same, each and every time. Rhett would make bets he knew he’d lose just to give your ego a little bit more of a stroke. You and Rhett had both been born and raised around the rodeo so there was no surprise when you both fell in love with it—the only surprise to everyone around you was that you hadn’t fallen in love with each other. Not that you didn’t try.

“Righto.” You and Rhett had known each other since before pre-k. “Why Sir Rocco?” He asked as he walked beside you, tilling his hat every which way at people who nodded his way—his father’s friends, your fathers friends. A gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you through a particularly crowded part of the fair.

“Everyone talking–” You mumbled as you stopped in your tracks, Turing in to face Rhett as he poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t all that big on words, he knew you were suffering a lose that was unexpected. They way you chose to work through that grief he couldn’t judge—but sometimes he felt the need to reel you in before that grief got you hurt.

“It doesn't matter what people think Y/n and you know that.”

“Yes it does.” Your Father Jack had recently passed away from a heart attack. “They all know that I fired my stockman, they all know the shearers walked out on me.” When your father had died so suddenly, the farm immediately became yours. His only daughter, his only family. “they’re all saying Y/n Y/l/n can’t do it, not on her own, not without her dad and that's not true.” The stockman had been stealing oil from your tanks, you’d caught them in the middle of the night and fired them on the spot. No questions asked. The shearers wanted more money per head, you could afford to pay them any more than what you were already paying them—and you knew they wouldn’t have asked your father. They walked off the job thinking you’d beg them to stay, but you didn’t. You finished the job yourself after four days of non-stop labour. Rhett had come over to ask for a hand fixing the north paddock board fence—he ended up staying to help you finish the job.

“So you have to prove you're as good as he was?” Rhett eyed you down as you poked your index finger into his chest—your lips in a firm line.

“I have to, cause I am.” He knew you had a heart of gold, but you were just as stubborn as your father was. There was never a need ask for help when you were drowning—you got yourself into whatever mess you’d stumbled into so you could claw your way back out. If those who doubted you saw you ride and win on your father’s temperamental stallion exactly like he did then they’d have to start treating you with respect and not just shrug you off like some hobbyist buckle bunny.

“There's gotta be an easier way to keep Drovers Y/n.” Rhett spoke through gritted teeth, crewing on the toothpick he’d fished out of the little packet from the top poker of his flannel. You’d both settled against the fence of the main rodeo rink. Watching on as amateur hour finished up.

“What? like marry you?” You smirked, bumping your hip against Rhett’s as he scoffed softly at you.

“Royal and Jack's plan, wasn't it?” Rhett had and always would be in love with you—he was just too blind to see that you were head over heels for him as well. He always thought that the friendship you both shared was priceless and to ruin that by letting his own selfish feelings get in the way would be unfair. Hence why he pinned after Maria—it always hurt less to fool around with her than to know that if he spoke up about the fact he would marry you tomorrow if you let him. That would never happen, who was Rhett to kid himself.

For a moment you both stood by the fence drinking in the sight of each other, eyes trailing the expanse of each other’s faces. Every perfect imperfection was memories and studies like a fine art. There was even, for the briefest of moments, a split second where you leaned in as Rhett ducked his chin—closing the gap a little more as if you were both about to allow your selfish desires escape. But when you realised there was hesitation looming in Rhett’s eyes? You shook off the moment, cleaning your throat as you stepped back and turned your attention back to the amateurs getting their adrenaline kicks.

“Silly old bastards.” You sighed as you checked your watch. “I should probably get going, camp drafts about to start and I’m second on the call sheet.”

“Yeah, yeah no of course—“ Rhett Agreed as he tipped his hat and cleared his throat. “Good luck.” He mumbled, giving you one final longing look as you pressed your lips together and smiled tight. “I’ll be watching darlin’.” The term of endearment slipped out far too easily for you to not notice, your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you turned on your heels. Heading towards the shoots before you could think about Rhett any longer.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Second up, we have a very special horse that came in first place last year in the open campgrounds—Sir Rocco.” The announcer bellowed through the speakers as Rhett stood in the crowd ready to cheer you on. “As most of you would know, Jack Y/l/n won on Sir Rocco last year—sadly, Jack is no longer with us, but we have a brave little lady here to hopefully carry on the tradition.”

“A brave little lady?” Perry frowned as he came to find Rhett in the stands, handing him a crisp beer as he’d just finished standing in line for what felt like half an hour. “Oh Y/n’s gonna hate that.”

“Sure will—bet I won’t hear the end of it too.” Rhett added as his eyes never left yours. Watching as you stalked around the holding pen trying to segregate your target. Pulling on Sir Rocco’s reins.

“Let’s give a big welcome to Jack's daughter, Y/n Y/l/n!” The announcer yelled through the speakers, revving the crowd up to cheer you on. Rhett being the loudest, the proudest, the most invested.

“Dig your spurs in darlin’!” He shouted as he cupped his hands around his mouth. Perry chuckled beside his brother as he took a sip of his beer. Fuck that kid was in love with you.

“Y/n’s got ten seconds to choose her heifer.” The announcer explained as Rhett never looked away from how you worked to separate your choice. Back and forth, side to side—. “Okay she’s picked her beats!” You were ready to go, nodding at the guys who watched on from the fences.

“Gate!” You shouted, the second the gate was sprung open you took off after the heifer, guiding it around the ring expertly. The crowd was wild for you—cheering you on as you focused on your one chance, your one shot to make your name known.

“Heading to the first peg now.” The announcer explained as Rhett’s eyes followed you around the ring. You were stunning on the back of Sir Rocco, handling the fiery animal with expert poise and grace.

“Go! Y/n Go! You got this!” He shouted, Perry cheered you on as well, but it was always Rhett who was louder, more invested.

“Looking for the second peg, she’s gaining up on her.” Everything felt like it had slowed down into slow motion as you heard the announcer explaining where you were at. “She’s crossing over to the second lap.”

“Come on darlin’ bring it round! Bring it round!” Rhett couldn’t stop cheering you on as he whistled from the crowd.

“Remember folks, Y/n’s got to complete the full figure eight or else she’s disqualified.” That didn’t make things any easier, hearing just how easily it would be for you to be disqualified. But you kept your head clear of the negative as you focused on the task at hand. You were so close.

“Get him there! Go you good thing!” Perry finally joined in as Rhett beamed a bright smile, still cupping his mouth to echo his cheers as loud as he could.

“Come on Y/n! All the way home baby! All the way—!” Rhett was high on your performance, he couldn’t believe how well you were doing. He’d seen you ride last year but he didn’t remember you being this entertainingly captivating. Perhaps that was just because he’d fallen even more in love with you since. “Go darlin’!”

“Now they’re heading towards the gate!” As soon as the heifer you had chosen was back in the pen you pulled back on the reins, slowing Sir Rocco down to a standstill as you beamed an unbelievably bright smile. You’d done it. “And it’s a completed course ladies and gentlemen—let’s wait for the judges to give their marks.” Waving to the cheering crowd you caught Rhett in the crowd. He was cheering you on so loud and proud it made your heart burst.

“Y/n’s score today is twenty three for camp, sixty three for horse work, four for the course—“

“That’s gonna be bloody hard to beat Perry!” Rhett gabbed at his older brother’s shoulders as he excitedly cheered for you. “She’s gotta make the final for sure.” Perry had to hold his tongue as he just watched as Rhett had looked the happiest he ever had. He hadn’t been messing around with that Maria girl as much these days. Sure he still flirted and kept her close—but that was only to ward of the ever looming fact that Rhett Abbott was and always would be obsessed with you. Perry just wanted the pair of you to fuck and find out for yourselves.

“That’s an excellent score ladies and gentlemen, for Y/n Y/l/n and Sir Rocco—Jack would be proud, that score should see her into tomorrow’s finals.” When you’d made it back to the holding pens only a few short minutes after your first run, Rhett was there to greet you with a wide child-like smile, as was Perry.

“Well done champion!” Rhett beamed as you slowly flung your leg over to climb down from the saddle, feeling the burning sensation rising in your cheeks as Rhett helped you down, your hands on his shoulders as he cupped at your waist. “You did great, I can’t believe Sir Rocco didn’t give you shit.”

“Damn good run Y/n.” Perry added as he watched Rhett scoop you up into his arms and spin you around. Still trying to regulate his own emotions after having seen you ride so amazingly. This was the most he’d touch another human with clothes on in months.

“Better pay up fast Abbott—“ You chuckled as Rhett put you down, slapping his chest softly with the back of your hand. “I always hate it when you welsh out on a bet.” There had only been a handful of times where Rhett had forgotten to pay up. Ever since? You’d never let him forget.

“Get away.” Rhett smirked with one side of his mouth. “The finals aren’t till tomorrow—“

“Make it Budweiser too!” You ignored Rhett as you started undoing Sir Rocco’s saddle. He deserved the world after that ride.

“Honestly Y/n, I really thought he was gonna play up.” Perry chuckled. “That last turn when he buckled a little cost you a couple of points but I don’t think I could’ve done any better myself.” Perry had always been like an older brother to you so his feedback meant a lot. “Don’t let your own ego mess up the finals for you though.”

“Yeah well, I can make it up in tomorrow’s heat.” You sighed, finally unclipping the last claps on the saddle before Rhett was swooping in to lift it off Sir Rocco for you. “Besides—I still got Mixed Division to have a little fun in now.” Wiggling your eyebrows Rhett’s way, you smiled bright as he returned the expression.

“Ah, let’s be real for a second here, you might be a hot shot in camp draft but you and I both know I’m coming out on top in mixed.” Rhett was careful as he placed your saddle into Sir Rocco’s trailer. Coming back to stand before you, tilting the brim of his hat up as he looked down at you. Perry was quick to make himself scarce—not wanting to see the train wreck that was about to collide. He’d seen this play out far too many times, the almost kiss followed by the awkward silence.

“In. Your. Wet. Dreams. Abbott.” It may have been the adrenaline rushing through your veins or the feeling of accomplishment that made your confidence level boost to a new high, but as Rhett smiled down at you, you reached up and around the back of his neck—pulling him down to meet your lips. No almost kissed this time, just a single kiss that had you forgetting how to breathe.

Rhett’s hands quickly moved to find a hold on your hips, bringing you in flush against him as he took over, deepening the kiss as his tongue trailed your bottom lip in search of permission to enter. You granted him that wish—a soft moan escaping as you took Rhett’s Stetson off his head and placed it on your own. Tipping the lip up so as to not smack against his forehead.

If it were anyone else? Rhett would have snatched his Stetson back in a heartbeat—but because it was you? Well—he’d let you keep it if you wanted it all that bad.

The kiss felt like it lasted for an eternity, neither of you wanting it to end. Scared of what were to come when you pulled away to face the reality of the situation, the gravity that this one silly little kiss could cause. But as Rhett moved his hands up from your hips to cups your cheeks? You didn’t fucking care about the consequences of your actions. All that mattered was that Rhett Abbott was finally kissing you the way you always thought about. He was kissing you and not some buckle bunny. He was kissing you, his best friend, the love of his life.

“Y/n—“ Rhett mumbled as he bit down gently against your bottom lip, pulling it back softly before letting it go. Pulling his lips away for yours as his hands still cupped your face—the pads of his thumbs rubbing against the expanse as f your cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that for.”

“Well it’s a bit of a coincidence that I was gonna say the same thing.” Catching your breath as your eyes drank in the sight of one another, it was Rhett who made the leap to spark the kiss again. Guiding you back until your back was flush against the railing of the holding pen. “Rhett—“ It sent chills down his spine and blood rushing to his length the way you said his name in a flurry of soft moans.

“Fuck—“ Rhett had to pull away before he got to carried away. Pulling back as his eyes never left yours. “This isn’t over.” He sighed, grabbing his Stetson back from the top of your head. “After I flog you in mixed, I'm taking you out for dinner.” Rhett pointed his index finger in your face as you wiped your swollen lips on the back of your flannel. His flannel, one he’d left at yours ages ago that you’d gaslit him to believe was always yours. Rhett knew, he just wanted you to have it.

“You don’t take people to dinner, Rhett.” You moved off the fence and made your way back into the middle of the holding pen, Sir Rocco still needed to be looked after before your next event.

“You aren’t people, you’re Y/n, and I’m taking you out to dinner because you’re the only person who’s ever looked at me like I’m worth more than my next ride.” It took you back for a moment as Rhett stood there confessing his inner thoughts to you. “I know I don’t bring an awful lot to the table darlin’ but if I’m gonna do this with you? I wanna do it in all the right ways.” You couldn’t help the smile they came across your face as he took a few steps forward. “So dinner, after I win.”

Rhett had always thought of himself as Mr.forgettable, but as he watched the way your eyes lit up at his suggestions of dinner, he couldn’t help to think that maybe for a moment you’d always remember him.

“You mean after I win?” Rhett chuckled softly as you bit at your bottle lip, trying your best to hide your smile as the heat in your cheeks intensified. “Because I’m gonna win the mixed division as well, Abbott.” You teased as Rhett once again leaned in a little closer, drunk on the taste of your lips. A hint of bourbon still on your breath from the drinks you’d had earlier to settle your nerves and the vanilla of your chapstick mixed perfectly together. “I'm gonna knock you right off the leaderboard.”

“I’d like to see you try darlin.” Was all Rhett managed to mumble before his lips were on yours one final time, wrapping your arms up and around his shoulders as he drew you into him. Enjoying the moment because this was all he’d ever wanted.

You.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Amelia County Rodeo. It's great to see you all here today–“ You’d been loitering around the shoot watching as your competitors dropped like flys. The bulls were particularly nasty today and you couldn’t say that made you a little nervous.

“Getting the action underway again–we have our Mixed Division Bull riding championship Rhett Abbott stepping up into the shoot as we speak.”

“Come on Rhett just hold on—“ You mumbled to yourself as you watched Rhett climb up onto the back of the seemingly relentless bull. “You got this.”

You knew Rhett would be able to hold out, but for how long you weren’t too sure. When the buzzer sounded and the gates flug open he came barreling out as Mickey bull tried to shake him off.

“Go Rhett!!” You shouted as you jumped up and down on the spot. “Hold on! Hold on!” Your cheers escaped like a mantra of praise and admire for your best friend. Watching Rhett ride was one of your favourite past times. He looked untouchable, fearless. Rhett Abbott belonged on the back of a bull, much like he belonged with you.

“Hold on Rhett! You’re so—Ohh!” Before you could even utter the word close, Rhett was dismounting with a thud as he hit the dirt. Laying on his stomach for a moment longer than you would have liked. Your heart raced as you watched him stand slowly, waving with a pressed lip smile to the car that cheered him on before limping back to the shoot.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Rhett Abbot—six seconds total.” The announcer said with a tone you knew Rhett was going to hate. “Is it enough to advance him into the next round? Possibly.”

“I hope you don’t think that because you fumbled the bag that I’ll take it easy on you?” Rhett looked like he was in a foul mood as he took the stairs down to meet you. Limping the whole way down from the platform as you waited with your arms crossed over your chest. “Mickey Bull is a pain in the ass to ride Rhett—“

“Six seconds ain’t enough.” He mumbled through gritted teeth as he met you at the bottom of the stairs. “It won't be enough.”

“There’s like twenty more riders on the call sheet still to ride.” You were quick on the draw to remind Rhett that there was still a chance. “You aren’t out just yet.” You always knew just what to say to ease Rhett’s temper. Thinking about all the time he’d wasted not loving you the way you should be loved, Rhett just smiled, shaking his head softly as he took off his riding glove.

“Nineteen if you take yourself off the short list.” Rhett smirked for a brief moment, taking in the sight of you geared and ready to ride. “Grip tight, dig your knees in and just hold on for dear life darlin.”

“You just find a good spot to watch and learn Abbott.” Whatever the hell it was that had been sparked between you and Rhett would have to wait. He was still your best friend before anything else. Tapping him on the shoulder as you made your way over to the shoot. “Keep an eye on the leaderboard for me!”

“Darlin I got bets placed on your ride today so don’t you go fucking this up!” Rhett countered your taunt before you were swarmed with officials ready and helping you settle down into the shoot. Rhett had to admit it to himself as he made his way over to the edge of the rink, climbing up so he could perch pretty on the railing. A front row seat. He had to admit that he was scared to watch you ride knowing how pissed the hills were as a whole today—they were relentless, took no prisoners and saw no mercy.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Y/n already in the shoot?” Royal asked as he came to stand beside where Rhett sat patiently waiting on the edge of the fence. A nod was all Royal got as a response. “I always thought she had more smarts about herself than you did.” Royal smirked to herself as Rhett turned his head down at his old man. “Until she rode that Bronco bear back and fell face first into the mud.”

Rhett smiled for a brief minute at the moment, he’d been the one who dared you to give it a go. Royal and Jack had been furious at the pair and of you for days after—but now it was just another memory that sat amongst all the rest.

“Lining up in the shoot now—“ The announcer's voice bellowed through the speakers loud enough to cut whatever Royal was about to say next off completely. “She's only up and coming but hell on earth is she making a big impression on the old timers today.” Rhett's cheeks hurt with how much he’d been smiling today. “Thats right ladies and gentleman, Y/n Y/l/n showing us what she's made of again, give the kid a round of applause.” The crowd began to cheer and raw as you nodded one final time and braced yourself—holding your breath as you tensed your entire body.

“Go! Go you good thing!” Rhett shouted as the gates sprung open and you came out with one hand held above your head and the same bull Rhett had been riding not a few short minutes ago tried to Buck you off with everything it had. “Hold it darlin! Hold onto it!”

“Oh-hooo look at her go folks.” You were struggling to keep yourself steady. “She's getting tossed around like a rag doll but she's holding on tight, she's holding on.” You tried to last just one second longer than Rhett, one second was all you needed, but when you were riding bucking bulls seconds felt like hours.

“Stay on! Stay up Y/n! Stay—!” Rhett winced at the sound that you made when you hit the dirt. It was rough and for sure knocked the wind out of you as you landed on your left side. Popping your shoulder out of its place with a whelp.

“Ohh—! and she's down!” The announcer cried out, as you rolled over to escape from chaos that had begun to unfold around you as clowns rushed towards you—everything all at one felt like it had caught on fire. No part of you was safe from the crushing weight of four hundred pounds of pure muscle.

“Ohh! she's getting trampled! Getting trampled folks, someone get her outta there! Where are the medics? The poor kid’s gonna get killed!”

“Fuck! No no no no no—“ Rhett didn’t think as he jumped into the rink, racing straight for you as rodeo clowns raced around trying to get a handle on Mickey bull. “Y/N! Y/N! darlin—I’m here.” Rhett shouted as he slid to your side, kicking up the dirt as he held your head in his lap. “Oh god! Oh my god oh my god oh my god—“ He didn’t know what to do, Rhett had never seen so much blood. The Bull had been right on top of you for a split second but that was all it took.

“Rhett—“ Blood spilled from your mouth as you coughed his name, dripping down your chin as your eyes rolled, struggling to stay afloat. You saw everyone rushing around you, the clowns chasing the bull away, the sound of the ambulance and the medics attending the scene, officials shouting, but none of that meant shit to you when Rhett was looking at you the way he was. “Mm-fine.”

“Shut up you look like fucking road kill Y/l/n.” That made you laugh, although it hurt an astronomical amount. “You’re gonna be alright though, just keep talkin’ okay, you can do that can’t you pretty girl?” Rhett couldn’t stop himself from crying as he let a sob escape. You couldn’t leave him now, not when you’d been with him since day fucking one. “Just hold on for me okay? Just need a couple of stitches.” Rhett didn’t know who he was trying to kid, you or himself. He knew how bad it was just by the blood seeping out from your stomach and the way your leg was bent in all the wrong ways. The gash on your head worried him the most though.

“Hey Rhett?” The sirens were all too loud as Rhett leaned a little closer to hear you mumble his name. “Rhett—“

“I’m here, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere darlin you’re gonna be alright.” Rhett felt like he couldn’t breathe

“I love you—“ It was barely audible, but Rhett heard you say the three words the two of you had been far too afraid to say for your entire lives. Rhett had been spending his days with reckless abandon, searching for balance, day in and day out. You were his balance though, he knew that now. His counterweight. He was drifting away with no counterweight as he held you in his lap, watching as your eyes rolled and your jaw slacked and a steady stream of blood poured from your mouth.

“No, no Darlin don’t you go leaving me here alright?” Rhett had never asked for a goddamn thing in his life. He was a simple man. “Please?” As medics asked him to move, Rhett could barely stand—on unstable legs he watched as your lifeless body was carted away into the ambulance. He couldn’t bring himself to love as he stood near the blood of blood that had seeped into the dirt. Your blood.

With blood on his hand Rhett wiped his tears before collecting himself as much as he could so he didn’t fall apart, hoping his feet took him in the right direction.

“Rhett what the fuck happened?” Perry asked as he hurried over. “I heard the announcer? Is Y/n alright?” Rhett had nothing in his reserve to give, simply stumbling as he leaned into Perry for support.

“Take me to the goddamn hospital.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

It was the steady rhythm of a heartbeat monitor that brought you back to reality. Through a few fluttered blinks, your vision was clear enough as you slowly but surely looked around the room you were in to see that it was in fact a hospital room.

The continuous flow or oxygen felt funny racing through your nose as you reached up to tug at the oxygen tube strung across and back behind your ears. It didn’t budge when you tried to remove it, giving up as you settled in deeper to the bed with a groan. Everything hurt, you felt stiff and sore and groggy as all hell.

But then you saw the heap of a man slung over the small armchair in the corner of the room. The worn in jeans and patchy flannel were dead giveaways to the fact it was Rhett.

“Rhett—“ Your throat was dry and scratchy like you hadn’t talked in weeks. “Rhett?” You tried again this time a little loud. “Hey, Abbott—?” Third times a charm. At the sound of his name Rhett jolted slights, groaning as he looked around for whoever had been calling his name, not expecting to see you laying there awake. “Hey cowboy.” You cooed, smiling softly just enough to have Rhett’s heart leaping out of his chest.

“How are you even awake right now the doctors said it would be weeks?” Rhett was in utter disbelief as he came to your bedside, dragging the chair along with him. “It’s only been a week—“

“Miss me that much you’re counting the days huh?” It was meant to be a joke as you let your head fall in the direction Rhett was sitting. His hand in yours as he brought his lips to your palm.

“I thought I’d lost you forever.” Rhett choked back tears as he sat back, looking at the love of his life, his girl, his pluto pup loving best friend. “I watched that bull tear you to shreds Y/n.”

“What have they got me on?” You replied softly. “I feel so groggy and out of it.” You knew it was going to be a long road ahead, there was nothing light hearted about being trampled by a bull. But for now you didn’t want to know, didn’t want to ask about all the things that were wrong with you or what chances you had at ever riding again. You just wanted to be with Rhett. Nothing else mattered.

“Hydromorphone, and a bunch of other things for the pain.” Rhett explained as he drank in the sight of you, the strongest woman he ever knew.

“Huh, no wonder I can’t feel my legs.” It was the softest of laughs, a split in your lip that was healing nicely stopped you from turning the corners on f your lips too much. “Have you been here long?”

“Oh I uh—I haven’t left.” Without you, Rhett had no counterweight. His whole life he’d known you, you’d been right fucking there. But if you were always in front of him, why did you dying in his arms awaken the kind of sensation of falling suddenly, every step he took could be pulled from under him. At any second—as if to outrun the reaper himself Rhett moved at the speed of light, losing his peace of mind, pursuing his demons, lucid or dreaming, just waiting for you to come back to him. “I tried to, once, but I only made it halfway down the hall before turning back.”

“You didn’t have to stay.” You cooed. “But I really appreciated that you’re here.” Rhett knew you didn’t have anyone else to visit you, except for maybe his own family. “I’m assuming you didn’t go back and ride?”

“Are you kidding me?” Rhett couldn’t get the image of that bull dancing on top of you out of his head. In the waiting room he’d sat in for hours upon hours just waiting for any information, he sstarted actually giving a fuck about who would be there to catch him when he fell down. He always knew the only person who’d ever truly been in his corner was you. “The fuck would I do that for when you’re all I got huh?” Rhett wanted to get as far away from Amelia County as he could. He prayed that you’d follow him, he’d pave away to escape from this lotto if you told him you were with him. Through anything, through it all. Amelia was a beautiful town but Rhett knew the longer he stayed it would become heartbreaking.

“The rodeo is all you’ve ever cared about—“ Rhett withdrew his entry from the rodeo before Perry had even made it to the car to take him to the hospital, there was no way he could ever ride without you riding right by his side. Leaning in as he held your hand tight, with tears falling freely from his eyes, Rhett confessed his deepest love.

“I saw the love of my life nearly die, fuck the rodeo, you’re all I care about Y/n, none of it matters if you aren’t there by my side.”

“Rhett, what about the farm? Dads land?” You were starting to panic, Rhett could see that clear as day. But all he did was lean in and kiss your forehead as gently as he could.

“One day at a time, yeah?” All you did was nod as you held back a sob. “One day at a time, but I'm by your side every step on the way, your counterweight.”

#rhett abbott angst #rhett abbott fluff #rhett abbott fanfiction #outer range #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x female reader

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elmundodeflor · 4 months

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If there's anything Levi Ackerman's learnt, is that things never go as expected.

He was born in a place where every day he was put up to challenge. He had lost his mom and friends.

He found it ironic— some kind of tragedy one almost wants to laugh at. Each time he thought he could finally sit back, get comfortable, relax, life showed him how wrong he was for it.

"Farlan and Isabel, right?", Hanji's voice makes him startle. Their words turn to drawings in the air— figments of ice that spiral through the night. "Were they your siblings?"

Levi shrugs it off. It's been a year since that day, but the memories still make his chest hurt. Like a wound that has yet to get closed.

"None of your business.", he says. Hanji looks at him through the corner of their eye, then lets out a soft giggle. He never understood them; — how they could still be light-hearted in a world so heavy. He was harsh and closed-off. They could have gotten offended at him for his distance— shouted at him for being this cold. But they hadn't. They hadn't and, instead, they could only graze him bright smiles in turn.

"You know...", they speak. They're in the headquarters' rooftop, watching the snow. It's New Years Eve; the first one where they can see the yard turn this pristine shade of white. "My father used to tell me that, upon celebrations, our big, big family table didn't start where he sat, nor ended where I was sitting."

Levi raises a brow. He can see their hair, poking out of their hat, dusted off with snowflakes. The slightest tinge of pink that burns on the bridge of their nose.

Hanji continues.

"He said that the table kept going, and going, and going, until it wrapped around the world and appeared right behind him.", they say. "That everyone we knew was sitting there besides us. Grandpa, my mom... even Farlan and Isabel could be there, too!"

Levi scoffs. He can frame the picture in his mind, actually; vivid, and wild, and colorful. He didn't know Hanji's family, but he imagines them, as well; all with their same brown eyes and glasses. The table's filled with food; warm rice, roast-beef, potatoe soup. He can taste the sweet and spice on his tongue, smell the veil of smoke that comes from the kitchen. His mom sits next to him, graceful as she's always been. She wears a white shirt, a silver necklace ducked underneath.

He turns to her and smiles; a small tug at his lips that resembles hers. He's dying to tell her something, to ask her questions, to introduce her to Hanji.

"It's nice, I guess...", they say, once more. They're leaning on the railings, staring over at the skies. "Dad used to say that, in order to meet everyone again, we had to pretend that we were little kids. That it was important for us to believe in magic..."

Levi stays silent; his eyes closed when the wirlwind blows. He had always expected for miracles, back when Kuchel would return home late. He had always hoped for some force to make her warm again. To fill the tiny holes that'd crack his heart.

Now, little there's left of that child he once was. But he can play pretend, as Hanji's father would say. He can see, instead of just look.

Farlan and Isabel bicker over who'll take the spot next to him. There's a bouquet of flowers, front and center, surrounded by dry leafs and candles. He can hear Erwin's voice, as he pours up some wine for him. He can watch over at his squad, who he's proud of, all passing down the plates and drinks.

It's a sight he grows fond of. An image that's warm and makes him bubble up with joy. He feels less alone, now that he's allowed himself to believe. That he's let kid-Levi have this one wish turn true.

"Hey", Hanji elbows him, almost as if to wake him from his daydream.

He blinks at them, still dizzy, and his breaths swirl into white clouds. Now, they'll go downstairs to have dinner with everyone else, and there won't be roast beef or potatoe soup. The table won't have fresh flowers. There probably won't even be wine. Still, he thinks, Erwin will be there. And Mike. And Nanaba. And his squad, too.

They'll light candles, and there will be a trail of smoke coming from the kitchen. And so, when the clock hits twelve and everyone cheers, he swears, he'll believe in magic. He'll be a child all over. He'll see, and not just look.

He'll sit next to his mother, and ask her the questions he'd been dying to. He'll let Farlan and Isabel take turns on the chair besides him. He'll have champagne with Hanji's dad.

It's okay with him, really— that he'll only get to have this, a small portion of them, for the rest of his life. He's finally come to terms with one's own, human fatality. Erwin's the big brother he's never had, Hanji has that same grace of his mother's.

"Beep-boop", they wave a hand in front of him. "Earth calling Levi?"

He rolls his eyes at them.

"What is it now?"

They pout, then drag him by the sleeves of his parka.

"Have you even been listening? We have to get going!"

Levi stares at them, — at how their glasses have almost frosted. Petra tells Oluo that his cravat's ridiculous. Moblit's rushing over with the food. There's the clink of porcelain and the smell of bread. It all floats up to the roof, where they both have been, then fades off with the snow.

He's aware, this year there won't be dessert, or champagne, or his mother, either. But he has this, instead— these people he considers family. A big, big group of misfits that somehow fit together.

He feels less alone, now that he's allowed himself to believe, that love can take shape in such cruel world. This is what kid-Levi would have wanted, he tells himself. The warmth. The company.

"Let's go, then.", he says, and Hanji laughs at him, dragging him further down the stairs.

Truth is, spending New Years like this— being a Scout— comes as a complete surprise to him. That this isn't at all how he expected things to be.

Then again, he figures, however, he's alright with it. This, — Hanji, the family he's found, being a Scout, even—, is the one choice he won't ever regret.

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

Don't forget to smile :-) ~ modern!Tommy Shelby & Reader (platonic fluff/angst)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Tommy can't think of anything more ridiculous than the cheery messages the Barista keeps scribbling down on his to go coffee cups

Note: Written for @mrsalwayswrite auparty - I know I am super late, but life was busy and I was more representative of this Tommy than this reader. Despite the delay, I still hope you still enjoy it. At least, by now, I have the element of surprise on my side!

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: anger? car crash, violence, mention of blood, a tiny bit of politics? Depression, mention of suicide. Also Crypto Bros. Expect canon confirming tone and mention of violence.

Wordcount: 2282 words

Don’t forget to smile :-)

The letters were mocking him.

The four words added in sharpie to the to-go cup, in such a haste that the drawing had been smudged slightly.

Don’t forget to smile :-)

There was very little to smile about in the life of Thomas Shelby, especially these days and so it felt like a personal attack.

He turned the cup so that he wouldn’t have to look at them.

The most annoying thing about it was that stupid smiley. It made him want to punch a hole through the to-go cup with his pen just to be rid of it.

It was as if she was trying to insult him, not just with that idiotic drawing and those empty words she always scribbled down on his cup, but with her whole demeanour.

She was always smiling.

She was always wishing everyone a “fantastic day!”

Tommy always knew some people were born with less than half a brain but very few had decided to be as blatantly obvious about it.

Always smiling, always cheery, always adding messages like these that sounded like they had been taken straight from the pages of some overpriced self help book - or from one of these idiotic motivational instagram pages that would put cheesy phrases over the backdrop of some UFC fighter who would probably subcome to CTE before he turned fifty but he looked tough so what did it matter when you could turn it into an ‘inspirational image’ with ‘good energy’

That entire generation was nothing but a collection of fools living in an echo chamber and throwing phrases like “vibes” and “energy” about, although if he told them that, they’d probably “call him out” for his “toxic masculinity” and “bad vibes”.

The fact that he knew all these things made him want to curse Ada even more, who had written her second dissertation about said ‘toxic masculinity’, or maybe third - he didn't remember, and to Finn, who only last week offered to ‘connect’ him with one inspirational speaker he really liked who was doing a podcast and really wanted Tommy to be a guest on it.

He’d rather eat broken glass.

But like most awful things in his life, that barista was unrelenting.

Apparently she was always the one doing the graveyard shifts, because it was always her handing out his coffee at the drive through in the earliest morning hours, always smiling, always with those stupid useless sayings.

The whole business would work better if their employees didn’t waste time with meaningless scribbles no one would ever bother to read.

You’re doing great!

As if Tommy Shelby needed a little barista to tell him that.

He knew he was doing great. He knew how far he had come, straight out of the social estate housing in Birmingham to the penthouses of London and New York, with businesses on every continent and a company on the stock market (and several that would never be connected to his or his family’s name).

Be proud of yourself!

Especially on a day like this with the Chinese business close to blowing up, it made him want to crumple up the cup in his hand, and preferably her idiotic smile with it.

It was just so unnecessary - a waste of time and energy, even of ink itself.

But no matter what, he could always count on those few words of writing to ruin his morning.

Today again.

You are loved!

He didn’t feel loved, if that even was a thing, not after Polly had been screaming at him for an hour straight, making his ears ring.

Then again -

Today’s a great day to have a great day!

What did that even fucking mean?

And what if some other car crashed into his on the way to work and squashed his skull to mush? That would be a sight for the firefighters that would be called to scrape his brains off of the asphalt.

The next time he’d have to teach one of his rivals a lesson, he should send them something with that saying on first, before blowing up their car or setting fire to their restaurant.

It was funny in a way.

You’ve totally got this!

He had stared at the writing for longer than he should have, having been up for nearly twenty hours now, running only on stubbornness, caffeine and desperation.

You’ve totally got this!

Tommy stared at it and thought of the little barista with her silly apron covered in coloured buttons on the side, filled with meaningless slogans and symbols.

As if putting some logo on a badge would fix things.

She was only pretending to care about these causes, about him, about all the other customers she smiled at.

But at least she’s pretending, a voice in his head reminded it. No one else is fucking doing it.

Least of all himself.

These days, Tommy was too tired to pretend, but it didn’t matter, did it?

Not really. After all, everyone was busy, everyone was desperate.

Ada was up and about changing the world, writing books and fighting causes, trying to pass laws in at least six different countries at once, while Polly was somehow at the Met Gala, the Biennale and Cannes at the same time, hardly spending half as much time in England as she was spending in Monaco or St. Tropez or the Maldives.

Arthur was already stretched to his limits, in and out of the clinical rehabs Polly and Ada put him in and the church retreats in Iowa that Linda recommended, and talking to his wife was tricky these days, after it came out that she had donated to some politician Ada hated.

At first she and his sister had been throwing insults, then food, and in the end even fists had flown.

There was no talking to any of them now.

Just him, always him.

“You’re earlier than usual!”, she remarked when he pulled up to the drive way.

Tommy only huffed.

“Have a great day!”, she told him as she handed him his coffee and a sandwich he probably wouldn’t eat.

Some days he even wondered if they would notice if he would disappear.

They would, of course, at least when the money dried up.

She was doing it for the same reason. He might not like her but he was a fair tipper.

Still, she’d notice before they would.

Which was - something? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have the energy to think about it.

London inner city traffic allowed him to glance at what she had written today

You are blessed!

Rolling his eyes, Tommy took a sip.

So meaningless. So childish. So useless.

Every single day, like an endless stream of blind idiocy.

Don’t forget to smile =)

People look up to you!

You WILL achieve your goals!

Today is EXTRA good!

You matter!

I believe in you!

Don’t forget to do what you love 🤍

You do a great job being you!

Meaningless at the best of times, mockery at the worst.

Countless times he had thought of changing the coffee place just to be rid of her needless pestering positivity, but it was the most convenient spot, besides, doing that would mean he had to concede a reaction to it and to him it was a sign of defeat to indulge fools.

Still, it was nagging at him.

This rainy Thursday she had written something particularly irritating on it.

Not only had she greeted him with a smile “You’re back!” on the first day he had returned from a work trip to Paris.

“Yeah.”, he muttered as he waited for his coffee impatiently.

As she handed him the cup, he glanced at it.

People are grateful to know you

This was reaching new depth. No one in the history of his life had ever been grateful for that.

Not a single person.

Even those people who were cursed to love him weren’t. They were grateful for his work and money, but not knowing him.

Unless -

Maybe it was the exhaustion, or simply because he couldn’t be bothered to go back to the bank to exchange his change.

Fuck it, he thought. In a way, he was only doing himself a favor as it would be useless to send someone.

So Tommy circled around the drive through and ordered some cinnamon roll from her colleague at the first window.

“You again, did you forget something?”, she asked with her beaming smile.

No.

“Ever been to Europe - “

Tommy had to squint to read her nametag.

The name suited her, in a way, even if he hadn’t suspected it.

“No, but I’d love to go to Rome!”, she said as she handed him the brown paper bag.

Tommy noticed the black writing from her pen, but didn’t read.

“Cash this time.”, he said, handing her a pound bill, and then whatever had remained in his wallet from his trip to Paris.

It wouldn’t change the world, but there was enough green and purple in there to finance a little trip for a barista.

He shoved them into her hand unceremoniously and drove off before she had the chance to react.

If she was smart, she’d hide it in her pocket, but if she chose to put it in the tip jar and share it with her colleagues, that was her business.

People are grateful to know you.

She was a fool, and Tommy couldn’t change that, but at least today he had made sure her words didn’t make her a liar.

It kept raining all through the day, and into the late afternoon, through phone calls and meetings, through Michael throwing a fit and Polly being unreachable, through everything.

“Tommy,”, Lizzie said, popping her head in through the tinted glass doors, “there’s a woman at the front desk to see you.”

“What woman?”, he asked, taking off his glasses.

“Some girl. She has something for you, something you lost and she refuses to give it to the security.”

Fucking really?

Lizzie only shrugged.

“She says its important. They’ve checked her. No weapons. She says she’s fine waiting downstairs until you come down.”

He had half a mind to test that theory, but then he shook his head.

“Send her up then.”, he muttered. The only thing less appealing to him than having to deal with some stranger was having to deal with some stranger after a long day’s work.

Five minutes later Lizzie came in again.

“I can’t send her in here, Tommy - she’s soaking. It’ll ruin the floors.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength before getting up to Lizzie’s office.

It took him a moment to notice her without her hat and apron, but her smile gave her away.

“Hi, so sorry for disturbing-”, she began. “I’ll be right off, I promise, but ah - you made a little mistake earlier.”

She really was soaking, from head to toe drenched and dripping, her clothes clinging to her skin. Still, she smiled.

“What?”, he asked in utter disbelief.

Reaching into her back pocket she took out the folded Euro bills he had passed her hours earlier.

“You always give my five quid - so maybe you got the colours mixed up cause this one’s green too.”

She bit her lip in embarrassment as she handed out the bills to him. Each and every one, green, yellow and purple.

“So yeah - this is yours.”

He only stared at her in disbelief.

“Are you for real?”, he demanded to know.

“Yeah.”, she said immediately. “I mean, I’d like to think I’m good at my job, but I’m not - three thousand six hundred and seventy five Euros good at my job.”

When he didn’t take the money, she put it on Lizzie’s desk who was watching the interaction with wide eyes from the window.

“Nothing we got is that good, not even the blueberry muffins.”

Tommy only stared at her.

“Anyway, that’s all.”

She was already halfway out of Lizzie’s office, her worn Converse making squelching sounds on the floor, when Tommy called her back.

“That money was for you.”, he insisted.

She stared at him with wide eyes.

“Oh but that’s a bit much.”

“So?”

She shook her head.

“Well, it's too much.”

If he thought her a fool before, he considered her little more than an idiot now.

When his disbelief kept rendering him speechless she spoke up again.

“Why don’t you put it into your charity? They’ve got a lot of flyers in the lobby and the kids probably really need it. I’ll be alright.”

Lizzie gave him a look which he tried painfully to ignore.

“I really need to go now.”, she said with an apologetic smile, “sorry for interrupting and sorry about getting the floor all wet.”

“Can I ask you something?”, Tommy asked.

“Sure.”

“Why do you always have to smile?”

She tilted her head and frowned, but then - oh wonder - she smiled.

“I read somewhere once about a man who wanted to kill himself - wanted to jump off of the Golden Gate bridge or something and was already on the way up but he didn’t do it ‘cause someone walked by him and wished him a good day and smiled at him. Made his day and saved his life.”

She shrugged.

“Don’t know if it’s true, but you never know I guess. Anyway, I really have to go or else you’ll have a proper puddle to remember me by.”

With that, she turned and opened the door.

“Have a great day!”, she chirped, the way she always did when he drove off, only this time it was her who was leaving.

The End

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

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@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul

#mzauparty #valentineswritings #don't forget to smile :-)#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #modern thomas shelby #modern! thomas shelby #modern! tommy shelby #modern!tommy shelby #modern!tommy #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine

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imdoingaokay · 1 year

Note

May I ask for DAI romance companions reaction to their lover making them a LOVELY piece of artwork for them??

Also if you wouldn't mind, Solas’ reaction as well?

Solas will always be included in the romanced companion dai lineup unless stated otherwise, so don’t you worry my dear anon. And so will Varric because I might as well do what Bioware was too much of a coward to do.

Sorry I've been gone for so long, I've been kept busy with nursing school. Good news, I passed my first semester! Woohoo! I'm hoping to get some more stuff out before I go back to school, wish me luck lol!

A rarely seen, but rumored skill that the Inquisitor had was art. Perhaps being raised the way they were, they got exposed to it and just had a knack for painting, more specifically, painting portraits.

If The Inquisitor’s friends were to glance at the leatherbound notebook they kept so tightly to their person, they would see multiple sketches of landscapes, animals, and the people The Inquisitor came across on their journeys. However, The Inquisitor kept this notebook tucked away in their bag or their jacket when they traveled, so it was seldom seen… almost.

One day, during a somewhat slow day of pomp and circumstance, the lover of the Inquisitor just so happened to come across the notebook… unprotected.

The pair had been taking some time away from stuffy nobles and constant threats to enjoy each other’s presence, except, when a messenger came by, claiming that Leliana had a report for the Inquisitor and the Inquisitor alone, they simply got up and left. Not before leaving a kiss on the cheek of their lover. The Inquisitor’s lover knew it was an invasion of privacy, but, it was the Inquisitor’s fault for keeping it there. So, curiosity bubbling over, the lover peered over to see what had the Inquisitor so fascinated moments before.

It was a sketch of them, of their face. A waist-up portrait of them.

Blackwall/Thom Rainer: Rainer couldn’t help but break out into a smile, he had been working so hard on the little griffon he had been making that he hardly noticed how furrowed his brow must’ve looked. His finger lingered on the subtle details spread across the page, some details so small he wouldn’t have noticed had he not picked up the piece of art and studied it closer.

Cassandra: Cassandra hadn’t even thought of the whole invasion of privacy, in a split second, she grabbed the notebook and stared at the Inquisitor’s work. The book she had been reading was long forgotten. And it had all but dematerialized when she saw the sketch of herself. She could feel a blush slowly creep up her cheeks until she was certain her entire face was red. At the slightest noise, she shoved the notebook back to its original spot, only to quickly pick it back up and inspect her lover’s handiwork.

Cullen Rutherford: He took the longest to finally look, pondering whether or not he would invade his lover’s privacy by taking the shortest peek.

He breaks, of course, less than a minute after he begins his internal debate.

He hurriedly flips through the pages and finds their most recent work, and his breath hitches.

He traces the beautiful sketch and finds himself mirroring the facial expression The Inquisitor caught him in. He can’t help but get lost in the drawings his Inquisitor has created. Still, every time a soldier walks in, it breaks him from any immersion he had, resulting in an innocent soldier watching the Commander fumble with a notebook.

The first time it happens, Cullen decides against looking again, placing it back in its original place.

Dorian Pavus: The second the Inquisitor was out of sight, Dorian casually grabbed and flipped through the pages of his lover’s notebook happily before stopping, the last page was a sketch of him. He pauses for a moment before a cheeky grin spreads across his face. He inspects every stroke, line, and scribble that decorates the page for what feels like ages. And if someone were to walk by, he doesn’t put it away, a part of him wanting to get caught by his lover. Eventually, he hears his amatus’ voice from far away, and after some deliberation, he decides to return the notebook to its rightful place, positioning it to look untouched.

Iron Bull: He’s subtle, his fingers trace the sketch so gently he can barely feel the paper underneath. He hides the book well behind his large hands and smiles to himself as he traces the image with his eyes. He’s impressed with The Inquisitor’s knowledge of anatomy, as every muscle Bull has appeared to be on display in the portrait.

He’s one of the only ones who keep the notebook in their grasp, watching his kadan tense up and begin to blush.

“If you wanted me to pose, you could’ve just asked me.” He smiles.

Josephine Montilyet: She takes a minute, and assures the Inquisitor is far enough away before she peaks at the sketchbook. A blush creeps up her face before she’s giggling and kicking her feet as she looks at her lover’s drawing. She’s convinced they took a few artistic liberties as she believes she looks far better in the picture than she does in real life.

Regardless, she becomes satisfied, places the sketchbook back down, and settles back in her chair, reinvigorated.

Sera: She’s immediate, completely snatching up the book before The Inquisitor even leaves, if her lover notices Sera, she attempts to hold it away, claiming they were asking for it when they left it out in the open. She does everything to get away, including climbing on the roof. But once she realizes what her lover drew, she pauses.

Eventually, The Inquisitor finds her and watches Sera slowly look up, “You made this? I… I’ve never seen… a drawing of me before.” Before breaking out into a grin, she whispers, “Why would you hide this?! This is great!”

Solas: He looks, finding himself far too curious for his own good. Once he sees his portrait, he smiles and leans back in his chair, admiring the work his vhenan put into the piece. He waits for his lover to return, nonchalantly handing over the sketchbook and kissing his lover’s cheek.

“You should draw more often.” He says, “Or maybe I should draw you.”

Varric Tethras: This man read Hawke’s personal journal, The Inquisitor should’ve expected him to look.

He takes a peak, which turns into a long stare, as he becomes enraptured by the portrait. Soon, he breaks out into a grin and waits for his lover’s return, holding the sketchbook like a trophy.

“Maybe you should do illustrations for my book from now on.” He suggests.

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sebastianswallows · 7 months

Text

Dangerous and Delightful — Chapter 20 — Circling

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind.

— WARNINGS: Angst, smut, noncon, dirty talk, cunnilingus

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— TAGLIST: @bloofinntoona @sarcasticpluviophile @estrotica

She was disgusted, outraged, and horrified by how cheerful Sebastian was in the days that followed. He forced her to have breakfast together, like some ordinary couple, helped her with chores around the house, and dragged her off to buy groceries from the little market in the village — which was most excruciating, as she had to put on a happy face while out in public if she didn’t want to confess to what had become of her between the walls of her own home, and she knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.

He only left her alone for one hour on a Saturday, when he paid another visit to the Clokes. She spent the time not packing to run away, but rummaging everywhere for her wand. She nearly turned her own room upside down, and his, and the drawing room, even the garden and the shrubs outside — but only nearly, of course, because she had to find time to put it all back together before he came back. And she never did find it… He either hid it in his trunk, which she didn’t wish to approach as she imagined it quite cursed, or kept it on his person.

Sebastian returned to find her brooding by the fireplace.

“How about some tea?” he grinningly asked, ignoring the foul look she gave him.

He was in good spirits… The Clokes must’ve delivered a message he was quite happy about, or something else. She spoke with him less and less as the days went by, a fact he clearly noticed but never addressed, but today she couldn’t help herself but join in his chatter.

She stood in the kitchen doorway, her clothes like ruffled rags around her, hardly fitted properly, her shoulders resting against the frame as she watched him fill the kettle.

“Fruitful visit?”

“Very,” he smiled, turning to look at her. “I got to pet Sweetie again.”

She scoffed, her mind rebelling against the image of Sebastian in anything like a tender disposition, although she knew in her heart that he was still the same childish, caring wizard she opened up her home to.

“Surely you didn’t go there just to do that.”

“No,” he said, scooping spoons of dry green leaves, “I went to see old Mrs Cloke.”

She nodded quietly as she watched him, her body tense and tired. She was wary of him, as she’d learned to be, and constantly, constantly unhappy. Sebastian must’ve thought he could break through that with his smiles, the warm brilliance of which he bestowed upon her every hour of every day. He directed one at her right now, so he must’ve still thought it was working.

“If you want to know what I talked about with them,” he grinned, “come give me a hand with the teacups.”

“You look like you’re doing well enough on your own,” she said thinly. “I’ll be in the drawing room.”

She didn’t stay around to see him pout those full soft lips.

A few minutes later, Sebastian brought in a tray with two cups and a little pot of sugar and set it on the table right beside her. His hands were barely free when he curled them around her shoulders from behind, waking her body from the tired laze that it was in to the too-familiar tension.

“You should ask for the things you wonder about,” he whispered, his words as smooth and soothing as a snake. “For instance, you could ask about what I’ve done to your wand rather than ransacking through the house.”

She inhaled sharply and froze.

“When you work in my line of business, noting the subtle changes in a place could make the difference between life and death,” he grinned. “And you haven’t done as good a job of covering your tracks as you think.”

She shook her shoulders out of his grasp and reached for a cup of tea just to have something to do. Placing her lips on its rim, she breathed gently over it, cooling it before she took a sip.

“Since you so badly want to know,” Sebastian grinned, “just ask.”

“Alright, what did you do with my wand?”

“I won’t tell you,” he laughed.

She turned so sharply she nearly spilt the cup all over herself. “But you said —”

“I told you to ask, I never said I’d answer.”

Her teeth clenched and she hissed, but immediately turned away so as not to look at him.

There was hardly an escape, of course, as he just took a pose before her, hands in his pockets, leaning against the fireplace.

“Not so fun, is it?” he said, a smirk crinkling his eyes, “when someone is holding secrets from you.”

“I don’t know what you meant.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

She ignored him, putting on a cool façade while internally panicking. She could feel him circle her mind, trying to get at the reason why she asked him there in the first place, why the necklace, why slip him the Amortentia…

“I know you’re a more talented witch than you pretend to be,” said Sebastian, all humour gone now from his voice to be replaced with an almost professional cordiality and even a touch of fondness. “The Clokes, in spite of your opinion of them, have more positive things to say about you than you do about them.”

She began to fantasize about running away, wand or no wand… She could always buy another one. She just needed to make it all the way to — she refused to think Ominis’ name.

“And as has emerged… abundantly in the past few nights,” he sighed, “you have no particular romantic inclinations towards me. Which makes me wonder, as you might imagine, why you’d slip me a love potion.”

“I didn’t —”

“Don’t lie.”

She glared at him for one second, then sipped her tea again.

“Indeed,” Sebastian continued, “it’s been quite a challenge to get anything out of you other than resistance, except for those precious few seconds after I manage to break through your pleasure.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You do sound and look so beautiful then…”

“Spare me the lovesick dribble.”

“Do you see?” he exclaimed, hands jumping out of his pockets to gesture lively toward her. “Not a romantic drop of blood in that body. So why would you —”

“I will tell you,” she said coolly, looking up at him again, “if you give me my wand back.”

“What makes you think there’s anything left of it?” he grinned in a surprisingly wolfish look way. “Besides, I’d rethink that offer if I were you. If you believe that you could beat me in a duel,” he chuckled, “cast those silly thoughts away.”

She hated how arrogant he sounded, but hated even more that it wasn’t arrogance. If his reputation wasn’t enough, the begrudging praise coming from Ominis was. He could defeat her easily.

“So, are you certain you want to make that deal?” he asked, shoving his hands back in his pockets and cocking his head with a thin smile.

“And you wonder,” she sighed, narrowing her eyes at him, “why I can’t possibly love you…”

His smile died, and a thin low frown took its place. “I have a feeling that has more to do with you than with me,” he said, although the weakness of his voice told her he wasn’t so sure.

She rested her hands politely in her lap and gazed straight at him, her hatred of him casting off all fear.

“I wonder,” she continued slowly, “if you ever wonder… how long this can last for. You will slip up sometime, or someone will come looking for me when I’ve been hidden away too long.”

“Who? Your non-existent brother? Your invented cousins and dead aunt?”

“You’re very familiar with museums, so you should know this, Mr Sallow: nothing lasts forever.”

Sebastian’s eyes smouldered for all of one second before he tempered his mood into something far more frightening to her.

“Just for that,” he smirked, leaning toward her, a curl of his hair falling dashingly over his forehead, “I will make you call me Sebastian tonight.”

She didn’t believe him when he said it. And later, when he had her undressed and writhing with his mouth between her legs, she still didn’t believe him.

He’d let her hands and legs free, as he often did lately, an indication of how sure he was she couldn’t run away, and also an unspoken invitation for her to cling to him when she was at the height of her pleasure. She never did. But moments like this made it difficult.

He frowned up at her when he heard her muffled moans, because he knew before he saw her that she only used her hands to cover her mouth. It did little to deter him, however.

His upper lip rested soft and wet on her nub, his tongue lapped at its underside where she was so sensitive she thought she was on fire, and his breath heaved in hot waves right over her hole. He might not have bound her, but his hands kept her legs apart and pressed toward her, exposing her in a way she was almost too ensnared to notice.

“Mmmm… good,” he mumbled, his voice sounding low and drunken, buried in her intimate flesh.

She wasn’t sure whether he was praising her behaviour or her taste. Probably the latter… She didn’t have enough blood in the upper half of her body to blush.

His lips puckered around her nub and sucked, pulling it out of its protective hood and crushing it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

“Seb—!” She cut herself off before she said it.

Knowingly, he smirked and released her, laying a few quick wet pecks on her clit before moving a bit lower. With a moan, Sebastian pressed his lips against her slit and teased it with light licks, kissing it just as he would her mouth, his head tilted slightly to enjoy it. His ruffled hair tickled her thigh. Moving then slowly, in deep motions, his tongue began to lick from the bottom of her entrance to the top, gathering the slick that dripped in greedy dollops there.

“Say it,” he whispered, moving again to kiss her plump folds, letting the wet noise of their flesh meeting fill the room.

She covered her mouth again and bit the centre of her palm. Sebastian sighed, but more in an amused way than angry, and settled more firmly on his stomach on the bed. His hands, for a few moments, caressed her inner thighs, moving gently up and down, brushing her sweat away and then coming teasingly close to her core.

His brown eyes looked up, searching for hers, waiting, and in increments he used his thumbs to press on either side of that soft hood, and upwards. Fearfully, her eyes then opened, and were only met with his. With a smirk, Sebastian pressed one, hard lap of his tongue on her nub, on its whole vulnerable and exposed surface, then closed his lips around its pudgy little body and warmed it with his mouth.

She cried out and her body jerked, hips arching — away or toward him, she couldn’t really tell — and that’s when she felt the familiar chill of pleasure rush up and down her body again. She screamed, her muscles clenched, her heart was pounding, and her breath came out in tired sighs. Between her legs, she felt her core clench furiously, waiting for something inside, wetting only the edge of Sebastian’s chin.

“Good little witch,” he moaned, releasing her clit after a few more torturous licks, long and broad, to clean her up. “But you still haven’t done what I wanted you to.”

She glared down at him but was too tired to respond, her throat capable only of broken whines and heavy pants.

“Suppose I’ll have to find another way,” said Sebastian in that warm seductive tone he used whenever he was intimate with her.

Slowly, he raised himself up on his knees, wiped her juices from the corners of his mouth, and settled between her thighs. His sweat had matted the hair on his chest, and even in the dim light, the freckles stood out on his body like cinnamon sprinkles.

“Y-you don’t,” she said tiredly. Her body was limp in his grasp as he moved her, pulling her closer to him.

“Oh, but I do,” he chuckled. “Do you see the state you’ve brought me to?”

She groaned, annoyed with him, and looked away from where his manhood, thick and dripping, swung between his thighs toward her. He just took advantage of it to kiss her, dropping loving little pecks all over her cheek, her jaw, her throat, wetting her with his mouth all over the top of her chest as he moved his member, brought it to her throbbing hole, and waited.

Her back arched instinctively at the feeling, and her traitorous body opened up at the mere promise of him filling her. She fisted her hands in the bed beside her, but Sebastian kept kissing her. He bent to suckle on her breasts until she started pulsing harder, as if her womanhood forgot the pleasure it had just received and wanted more. Slowly, with a few heart-beat throbs and with just a gentle press of his hips, her core swallowed him, pulling him inside of its own desire.

“A-aah…” she groaned.

“I knew you wanted it,” he whispered.

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you move so sweetly, hmm?” he said, looking up at her from near her breast and tickling her chin with his lashes. His hands cupped her hips, but he wasn’t holding her. He just felt the way she moved, the way her intimate muscles worked to bring the two of them together. “Where has that enticing witch gone that wanted to ensnare me?”

She sighed, frustrated with him, but mostly with herself. She should’ve known better than to play around with love potions, they always caused trouble…

“Because I can tell you, I am very, very much ensnared right now,” he chuckled, resting for a moment to catch his breath, his manhood only halfway in.

“I don’t appreciate your crude jokes.”

“You think I’m joking?”

Her eyes, tired and tearful but as cold as deep winter, slid down to look at him again.

He looked ravished, hair falling over his forehead in sweaty curls, lips swollen and wet hovering over her nipple, and a blush blooming from the tips of his ears all the way down to his chest.

He too must have seen something in her that paused all his thoughts and made some other part of him take over.

“I love you, you know…”

“Shut up.”

“I want to give all of myself to you, if only you would take it.”

She wanted to make a quip about him having stolen her wand instead, but that was gone from her when he shoved the rest of himself inside and buried his manhood in her to the hilt.

His choked groan trembled down his throat and to his chest. She felt it right against her heart, and she too had to struggle not to moan too loudly.

Her body was getting used to this, had grown used to this for the past few nights, and in her less guarded moments she might confess it even looked forward to it. She’d never felt so close to someone, felt so known, as she did when Sebastian was deep inside, his root against her entrance, his heavy sac at her folds, and his rushed breaths cooling the sweat of her chest.

“I want to give you everything,” he murmured. Very gently, he pulled back, only to press inside of her again — slow, achingly slow, to make her feel it. “Everything…”

She bit back her moans and took it, not really understanding what he was talking about, until something in his eyes as he gazed into hers conveyed something she hadn’t yet noticed — or perhaps had avoided so far. Her lips parted, ready to dig a bit further into all this love-talk, but he closed the distance with a kiss.

“Say my name,” he pleaded once he released her mouth, his hips moving faster all the while. “Please, please say it, I need to hear it…”

She was ready to deny him once again, but he slid his hand just then to her core and began to flick her clit. It was so wet he hardly could keep his finger on it.

“N-no,” she whined.

“Please,” he whispered, kissing her between each breath, “please, please…”

“S-seb—”

“Please…”

#Sebastian Sallow #hl #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x reader #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;danger and delight #Sebastian Sallow smut

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my-head-is-an-animal · 11 months

Text

The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 5 - Dinner

Mycroft allowed her a few days to settle back into her life before phoning one evening to see if she still wanted to have dinner with him.

‘Of course, I’d love to. I’m working the next two nights, but I should be free Thursday.’ She said, enthusiastically.

He could hear the sounds of the busy restaurant she worked in, she’d mentioned something before about working two jobs during the summer, one was a table waiting job at a very classy hotel in Mayfair, and the other was the café in Baker Street where Mrs Hudson had asked if she fancied working mornings over the summer and earn a little extra money. As far as Mycroft could remember, she enjoyed both jobs, never complaining or dwelling on the difficult customers, just getting on with the job she had.

‘Thursday is fine,’ Mycroft sat down at his desk, finishing up for the day. ‘Is seven alright with you?’

‘Yeah, seven is great, just let me know where to meet you.’

‘Or I could send a car.’ Mycroft waited a moment to hear her objection.

‘You know what, screw it, I’ve been working hard, I deserve a little indulgence, right?’

‘Of course, we all need time to relax once in a while.’ Mycroft was glad that he could at least convince her to let him see her safely to the restaurant, anything else would be a bonus. ‘The car will be waiting at six forty-five on the button.’

‘Great. Where are we going so I know what to wear?’ She quickly told someone beyond the phone that she was just about to head back and she wouldn’t be much longer.

‘Well, as per your request, there’s a place on the Marylebone Road that I thought would suit us both rather nicely. Nothing too fancy, not too busy, but has almost anything you could ask for in a restaurant.’ Mycroft hoped he’d chosen well, it was a little higher class than the café she worked in, but it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly fancy.

‘Well, I will trust your judgment, Mr Holmes, I can’t imagine you’d choose anywhere less than adequate.’ That made him chuckle. He heard the sounds of someone shouting for her to help out. ‘I’d best go, they need me on the floor, something about some Russian politician.’

‘Yes, of course. Word to the wise, the politician you are referring to prefers the Dom Perignon Vintage 2003 champagne, if he’s being difficult, a bottle will ease the situation.’ Mycroft remembered an awkward moment a few years back.

‘Oh really? He is being a bit difficult actually. Thanks for the advice.’

‘Anytime. I look forward to Thursday.’

‘Me too.’ It was the widest smile he’d heard since the phone call started.

Mycroft left her to the rest of her shift and prayed she made it home safely as he did every night. Thursday at seven could not come soon enough. He got Anthea to make the arrangements and the look she gave him was not one he appreciated.

‘How would you like me to record it in the diary, sir?’ She said with a hint of glee.

‘Business meeting, what else?’ Mycroft gestured for her to get on with things and leave him be for the remainder of the evening. He wasn’t interested in any of her conclusions that she was probably drawing at that moment.

Mycroft left an hour earlier than he usually would on Thursdays, Anthea didn’t question it, she simply got on with her job of being the gate keeper and kept all visitors out of his office until the following day.

He went home, showered and put on the navy suit he knew Bethany liked. Mycroft kept reminding himself that this wasn’t a date, he didn’t need to impress her, he just needed to be himself and spend time with a friend. He sent a message to Anthea asking only urgent messages make it through to his phone that evening, she obliged and wished him well. He knew she was just being nice, but he’d rather she didn’t know anything at all.

Mycroft checked the time upon arriving at the restaurant, he was five minutes early and thankfully had a couple of emails to check.

‘Mr Holmes.’ The concierge said upon seeing him. ‘Good to see you again, may I take your coat, sir.’ Mycroft was polite enough and handed over his black coat, it was a little warm to be wearing a coat at all, but the night would get cooler soon. ‘We have your table ready, out of the way and quiet as requested. Is there anything else we can do to make your visit any more comfortable, sir?’

He led Mycroft through the restaurant to his usual table. ‘Yes, actually. Miss Wheeler will be joining me tonight, please see to it that she isn’t overwhelmed on her arrival.’

Luckily, the Concierge understood exactly what Mycroft meant and nodded curtly. ‘May I be bold sir, but is Miss Wheeler of particular importance?’

‘Just a friend.’ Mycroft appreciated the delicacy with which he asked the question, though didn’t enjoy being asked.

‘Very good, sir.’ The Concierge gave a slight bow and headed back to the podium while Mycroft got on with any last minute work he had to do.

His usual table was one at the edge of the restaurant in a small booth fit for two people, he didn’t often do business here, it was designed more for more social occasions. Mycroft had chosen this place because he was sure he wouldn’t run into any unsavoury characters, but he could also show Bethany a little of what his lifestyle looked like. He was in a world of his own and barely noticed his favourite wine being brought to the table, when the Concierge caught his attention.

‘Mr Holmes?’

‘Hm? Yes?’ Mycroft looked up to see Bethany smiling down at him.

He was stilled for a moment, just long enough to take her in properly. She wore a mauve, knee length cocktail dress, a conservative v-neck and one that had a little ruffle from the waist down, he imagined she found it a little more freeing that the tighter dress he’d seen her in at the wedding. Her legs slotted elegantly into her simple black heels and she had gone easy with any make up, preferring the natural beauty she had, her freckles were just about visible in the dimmer light of the restaurant and Mycroft suddenly felt nervous. He hadn’t been nervous about anything for a very long time, let alone a single person.

‘Miss Wheeler.’ Mycroft stood to greet her properly, placing a soft kiss to her cheek, inhaling her ginger shampoo and inviting her to sit down opposite him.

‘Oh, come off it, am I ever going to convince you to call me Beth? Even Bethany is better.’ She said, playfully, but taking the seat opposite anyway.

‘Apologies Bethany,’ Mycroft couldn’t stop his smile. She was everything she thought she wasn’t, elegant, pretty and a player to be reckoned with. ‘I will do my best.’

‘You’ve lost weight since I last saw you.’ It meant the world to Mycroft that she noticed.

‘Well, staying in shape has it’s advantages.’ He smiled.

‘Well, you look good.’ She bit her lip teasing him a little and he couldn’t help a small chuckle. ‘Blue suit.’ She pointed out. ‘Nice choice.’

Mycroft was glad that she was able to slide into her comfort zone and start teasing with him right from the start, it gave him hope that she wouldn’t be too overwhelmed by her surroundings. They made idle small talk – something Mycroft usually hated – and he asked her about her time in Austria which meant him watching her smile uncontrollably and tell him epic tales from hiking over mountains, falling down slopes, watching sunrises and sunsets, drinking by a fire and singing songs with her friends whilst constantly getting the words wrong. It also meant he had a chance to observe the way she told stories and perhaps something of an insight into her inner workings.

For the most part, Mycroft couldn’t do anything but listen, where he would normally tune in and out and take in the rest of the person he was with, deducing most of the information by observation only, he was suddenly scared that he would miss something important. She didn’t drink a lot, but two glasses of wine he felt was enough to allow her to relax enough to tell him a little more about her degree and the things she wanted to do with it.

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Bethany said, after the waiter, who had been kindly quiet whilst serving them, took their main course plates away. ‘I always wanted to be some kind of forensic scientist, but now I’m not so sure. I might end up working in research at Barts.’

‘Forensic science is a perfectly respectable route,’ Mycroft said, twisting his wine glass between his fingers. ‘What changed your mind?’

‘I’m not sure really,’ Bethany said, leaning on her hand. ‘I suppose I just don’t feel the pull towards it that I once felt. You have to do what makes you happy, right?’

‘Most certainly.’ Mycroft sat up and leaned forward a little as well. ‘So, what makes you happy?’

He saw her dark eyes, blacken momentarily and her cheeks show a light dusting of pink. ‘Well, there’s a question.’ She said, taking a mouthful of wine to cool down somewhat. ‘I suppose travelling makes me happy, I really enjoyed Austria… science makes me happy, it’s straight forward and complex, but there’s so much room for discovery, if that makes any sense.’ She chuckled.

‘It makes perfect sense.’ Mycroft nodded, not being able to take his eyes off of her. ‘Though I suspect you have left something out.’ Her eyes locked with his. ‘A faint redness on your cheeks when I asked and you needed to take a mouthful of wine, presumably to cool down, before answering. So, may I be so bold as to ask what you left out of your answer?’

Bethany tried not to smile too much, instead holding his gaze and her own nerve. ‘I will answer your question, if and only if, you can answer mine.’ Mycroft gave a brief frown, but gestured for her to ask. ‘I see a very, very thin ring of blue in your eyes, pupils fully dilated and you haven’t stopped smiling since I arrived. Mycroft Holmes, do you like me more than you’re letting on?’

Mycroft was a little taken back, he’d never been looked at so closely before, not by a woman anyway and not by someone he wasn’t sure he wanted looking at him that closely. He swallowed nervously which was enough to confirm her suspicions.

‘My position does not afford me the opportunity to indulge in many occasions such as these,’ Mycroft said, not breaking the eye contact. ‘But I have made the effort to spend this evening with you. Tell me, what can we deduce about that?’

Bethany chuckled. ‘Most people would just confess.’

‘Yes, but as has been long since established, I’m not most people.’

‘No, you are not.’

It was a moment where they simply watched each other, waiting for the next move to be made, when something very unexpected happened.

‘Mycroft?’

He knew that voice and felt his whole being groan with disappointment. He prayed that Bethany would either not be noticed or be smart enough to remain quiet.

‘Lady Smallwood.’ Mycroft said, standing up and holding his hand up to indicate for Bethany to remain seated, which thankfully she did.

‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’ She said, her husband standing just behind her out of the way. ‘My office tried to call you tonight, we have things to discuss and you’re aware of the timescale we have with which to work with.’

‘Yes, but it’s nothing that cannot wait until the morning,’ he tried so hard to be polite. ‘No one is going to make a move for at least thirty-six hours and therefore we have time to assess the situation and we should do so methodically. We can’t rush this.’

‘No, I suppose you’re right.’ She admitted and Mycroft hoped she’d move along, but she definitely landed her gaze on Bethany and her expression said it all. ‘Well, well, aren’t you going to introduce us to your dinner guest, Mycroft?’

He really didn’t want to, but in the interest of civility, he didn’t have much choice.

‘Of course, this is Miss Bethany Wheeler.’ Mycroft held his hand out for Bethany to use to help herself up, her hand was warm and soft and for a moment Mycroft didn’t want to let go. ‘Miss Wheeler, this is Lady Smallwood, though I’m afraid I can’t tell you more than that.’

‘Pleasure to meet you, Lady Smallwood.’ Bethany said, politely. Somehow Mycroft’s hand had found it’s way to the small of her back, the curve of her spine was making him feel warm and he had no explanation as to why.

‘And you, Miss Wheeler.’ Mycroft knew that look and this was either about to go very wrong very quickly, or Bethany would surprise him. ‘And what’s your relation to our Mr Holmes?’

‘My relation?’ Bethany frowned. ‘I’m just a friend catching up on a few things. I apologise that I took Mr Holmes away from what seem to be important matters this evening, but I do hope you enjoyed yourself nonetheless.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Well, I just notice that you’re on your way out the door, not in.’ Bethany had a very good poker face and if it had not have been for Mycroft spending the last hour and half watching her intently, he would have been fooled by her innocence as well. ‘Which means you can’t have tried very hard to get in contact with Mr Holmes, so I just assumed that after finding out that he was unavailable, you decided to spend what was eventually a free evening in the company of your husband, which is lovely, it’s good to make time for the people we deem important.’

Lady Smallwood just watched her, slightly baffled. ‘What was it you did again?’

‘Oh, I’m just a friend of Mr Holmes.’ Bethany was very good and Mycroft couldn’t help but be impressed by her.

‘I’m sure you are.’ Lady Smallwood decided against asking her to be more specific. ‘We’ll talk tomorrow Mycroft.’

‘Of course, I’ll set up a meeting for the afternoon once I’ve had time to look over the details.’ Mycroft smiled and watched the Smallwoods leave the restaurant. ‘Nicely played.’ He said, quietly and close to Bethany. He could once again smell her wonderfully, warming ginger shampoo.

‘That’s years of waiting table for difficult politicians finally paying off.’ She chuckled and Mycroft gestured for them to sit down again. Hating having to take his hand away from her back, he missed the contact.

‘I see your skills in negotiation rival the government’s,’ Mycroft smiled, enjoying where they were heading back to. ‘I should offer you a position in my office.’

‘Oh please, you think the government would hire a big anarchist like me?’

‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Mycroft conceded. ‘Maybe I will need to reconsider putting surveillance on you after all.’

Bethany laughed and once again it ignited Mycroft.

‘So, what’s the deal with Lady Smallwood?’ She suddenly asked, making Mycroft frown. ‘Well, it’s obvious she fancies you.’

‘Obvious?’ Mycroft said, slightly alarmed. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Well, she was furious that you’re having dinner with me,’ Bethany chuckled. ‘She basically ignored her husband and she was well within two feet of you when she first approached. Does she do that normally?’ Mycroft thought for a moment and the silence confirmed Bethany’s suspicions. ‘I’ll take that as a yes. She definitely has a thing for you.’

‘She’s married.’

‘Well, you should know that especially when working in government, it’s not likely to stop people seeking an affair.’ Bethany was revealing a whole new stream of ideas that Mycroft had never considered before. ‘Personally, I think it’s all about the thrill.’

‘The thrill?’ Mycroft raised his eyebrows.

‘The thrill of getting caught.’ Bethany nodded, finishing her wine. ‘Are you telling me you’ve never even thought about it? The possibility that someone could find you attractive enough to want to have an illicit love affair with you.’

If Mycroft was entirely honest with himself, someone finding him attractive full stop was a far off dream he’d never really entertained.

‘No,’ he shook his head, looking down a little ashamed. ‘The thought never occurred to me.’

Bethany didn’t look at him with any pity, instead she was still smiling. ‘You know, I think you are one of the most surprising and enigmatic men I have ever met, and I hang around with your brother.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, I thought at first you were just a fancy, posh boy,’ she made him chuckle a little. ‘Someone who lacked any sense of compassion as per the rules of working in government, but it’s become very clear that there is more to you than a good suit.’

‘Are you telling me you see through my ties? Because that would ruin my reputation.’

Bethany laughed once again. ‘Oh, I’m starting to see you a little clearer that’s all. What does that do for your reputation?’

Mycroft thought for a moment. ‘I’m sure it would utterly destroy it.’ They sat in silence for a moment longer, before Mycroft needed her to talk some more, anything to clear his mind from where it was heading. ‘Tell me what else makes you happy?’

She smiled, biting her lip once again and Mycroft let the idle thought of his own teeth grazing her lips pass through his mind.

‘I suppose just the usual things,’ she shrugged, leaning on her arms on the table and pushing her chest up unconsciously, he was certain she wasn’t doing it intentionally, but it was having a slight effect on him. ‘Music, reading, films. What about you? What do you do in whatever spare time you get?’

Mycroft took a breath and looked up as if thinking on the question. ‘I’m afraid I don’t get a lot of spare time, but when I do, classic film noir is my usual activity of choice.’

‘Film noir?’ She seemed surprised. ‘Black and white films about sexy detective and damsels in distress. Well, that is not what I thought you’d say at all. I bet you have a fancy cinema room.’

Mycroft grinned. ‘I prefer a projector.’

‘Really? With real film roll?’

‘Of course.’ Mycroft nodded, finding it interesting how much she was genuinely interested in his projector. ‘How else would I get the full effect?’

‘Well, indeed.’ She flirted a little, making him feel the need to loosen his tie. ‘What’s your favourite film?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t narrow it down to one.’

‘You have that many rolls of film and a big enough collection that you cannot pick a single one as your favourite?’

‘Afraid so.’ He said and then did something tremendously out of character. ‘I could show you, if it was of interest to you?’

‘Mycroft, are you inviting me back to yours?’

‘The night is still young, Miss Wheeler. There’s still time to drive you home, I assure you.’

Mycroft didn’t want her to think that this was anything more than him simply sharing something he enjoyed and Bethany seemed to understand that. She wasn’t expecting anything. He paid the bill and they left the restaurant, taking his usual black town car back to his home.

Mycroft hadn’t seen her enter the restaurant, but her grey coat only made her look taller and more slender, something he didn’t realise he appreciated so much, but it made her look like something out of one of his films.

When she sat next to him in the car, he noticed a cut just above her knee, without even thinking, he asked about it, his finger landing just at the edge of the cut and on her incredibly soft and smooth skin.

‘Oh, it’s from where I fell down one of the slopes,’ she said, not bothering to move his hand away. ‘It goes up quite far actually, but it doesn’t hurt that much, more irritating than anything.’

Mycroft took his hand away and smiled. He proceeded to ask her about where she had fallen and if she at least enjoyed the view, which she was much more enthusiastic about.

They made it back to his home and she teased him about living in a small castle, he didn’t think his home was that large, but she quickly reminded him that she was essentially living in a house the size of his reception with four other people, size was relative.

Mycroft gave her a quick tour, taking note of the fact that she thought his house was huge so probably looking in the spare rooms wasn’t that important.

‘You have a suit of armour in your gym?’ She exclaimed, laughing.

‘What’s wrong with that?’ He sighed, but still had a smile on his face.

‘Nothing, it’s just very you.’ Bethany gestured for him to continue and eventually they ended up in his home cinema.

Mycroft took her coat and hung both his and hers up in the corner. He showed her his collection behind some sliding doors that sat to the left of the room and asked her to pick one.

‘What? Any one at all?’ Bethany had a hint of amazement.

‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ Mycroft headed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and some more wine along with two glasses. By the time he’d returned, she’d only made it a third of the way across his collection. ‘Anything catch your eye?’ He asked, approaching behind her and once again inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

‘A couple of them,’ her head turned just slightly when he realised how close he was standing, her voice was a little lower. ‘I’ve always wanted to see The Lady From Shanghai.’

‘A worthy selection.’ Mycroft smiled, he could see her eyes were entirely black, but he was unsure of how to react. He cleared his throat and avoided doing what he wanted to do.

‘Let’s watch that then.’ Bethany saved them both the embarrassment.

Mycroft took his suit jacket off and gestured for her to sit down on his two-seater and make herself comfortable. Bethany watched him loosen his tie and start setting up for the film.

‘What made you get a projector then?’ She asked. He noticed she was watching him carefully, each movement he made under her gaze and he honestly didn’t mind.

‘Well, a few things, but I suppose a concise answer would be because I wanted one.’ He raised his eyebrows playfully.

‘Oh, I see, so whatever the British Government wants, he gets.’

‘Precisely.’ Mycroft had never winked at a single person in his life, but it felt natural when he did it to Bethany, like she was the only person worthy of such a thing.

He listened to her laughing and finished setting up. Bethany reached up to turn off the lights, handed him another glass of wine and finally he settled next to her. Mycroft was suddenly aware that he’d just sat down close to her body and put his arm behind her, crossing his legs. He wasn’t touching her or behaving in any inappropriate manner, but it certainly felt intimate and it was slightly confusing for a moment.

Mycroft settled and eventually they were able to enjoy the film. It wasn’t especially long, but he noticed Bethany was enthralled nonetheless, she loved the film and that on its own had made the whole night worth it.

He watched her from the corner of his eye, just observing her curiously, watching every little reaction she had to the film, he’d never sat and watched a film with anyone before, save for when he was a child. He liked it when he could see her getting entirely absorbed in the film and her face would relax and work of it’s own accord, the small smiles tugging at her soft lips, her eyebrows knitting together displaying sympathy or confusion and her breathing adjusting to each line indicating how she connected to it. A stunning display of human emotion that Mycroft was more than willing to observe.

Bethany finished her glass of wine, setting it down on the table next to her and when she leaned back, he could feel her warm body pressing gently into his. The weight was welcomed and even craved on his part.

‘Sorry.’ She smiled gently, about to move a little away from him.

‘It’s fine.’ Mycroft blurted out, realising that he showed himself a little more than comfortable with the contact. Bethany picked up on it straight away and smiled again, settling closer against him, her knees pulled up to her chest and he could smell the intoxicating scent of her shampoo once again.

By the time the film was finished, Mycroft was in a state of blurred bliss. He didn’t want to move, he just wanted to remain pressed against Bethany, to actually be able to hold her would be a sublime privilege that he felt entirely unworthy of.

‘What did you think?’ Mycroft asked, almost pressed his mouth into her soft, frizzy hair. He wondered if it was the wild nature of her looks that he liked, a complete contrast to the neat and rigid surroundings he usually associated himself with.

‘Of the film? Or everything else?’ She asked, her voice taking on as equally as low tone. It was only then that Mycroft realised his hand, that had been previously resting on the back of his two-seater, was now stroking her soft skin on her arm.

‘I apologise.’ He said, removing his hand and feeling rather embarrassed at his actions. He was about to get up and put everything away when she stopped him.

‘Why are you sorry, Mycroft?’ It was the way her lips wrapped around his name that had his whole body weakening.

‘I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.’ Mycroft swallowed thickly.

There was just something about the way she was looking at him that told him that he had no reason to apologise. She had a faint smile playing on her lips and Mycroft couldn’t help but watch her, take in every detail of her face. Without even noticing, he’d somehow shifted closer, foreheads almost touching, he could smell ginger, her hand found his, her fingers tracing his palm and soon she was guiding his hand up to her jaw.

Mycroft had so little experience in this area, but he knew how to read people and how to figure out what they wanted quickly and precisely. On this occasion, Mycroft felt patience was a virtue, he couldn’t rush anything or move with any hint of uncertainty on her part. He traced the tips of his fingers across her jaw line, taking careful note of the change in her breathing, it was now shallow and quicker. His thumb grazed over her bottom lip, just feeling the softness and hearing the soft sigh of pleasure that came from her throat, it was everything Mycroft had wanted to hear.

He swallowed nervously, but could no longer bring himself to resist. Mycroft slid his thumb away to her warm cheek, the tips of his fingers pressing gently into her hairline, something he hadn’t realised would affect her so much. Her eyes were closed and he took one last moment to take a mental screenshot, he would burn it into his mind forever and always remember it as the happiest he’d ever felt.

Mycroft finally moved his mouth close to hers, feeling her breath against him, his lips grazed hers and another soft sigh could be heard. He added the pressure they both sorely needed and suddenly he could feel his whole body reacting, her hands had found their way to his chest, half pulling him closer towards her, half uncertain.

Mycroft slid his mouth over hers, feeling a small wave of confidence hit him as his tongue came out to swipe along her lip, she let out another sigh and he couldn’t resist gently dragging his teeth along the same lip she had teased him with for so long. He heard his own sigh of relief that, yes, it was as good as he hoped it would be. Bethany was beautiful in every sense and this was all the confirmation he needed to know that he’d fallen for her.

Time seemed to escape Mycroft, but the ache of his body did not. All that could be heard was those wonderful soft sighs that he was responsible for forcing from her, and that of the film roll running out on the projector. He hadn’t dared go too far, but just kissing her lightly, passionately, greedily and tenderly was a pleasure he hadn’t known he needed.

Mycroft slowed his movements and felt the instant disappointment in her.

‘I…’ he started, panting slightly and hearing the cracking of his own voice. ‘I haven’t done this for a while.’ He said, still kissing her between sentences, he just couldn’t get enough. ‘I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed.’

Mycroft kissed her again, but this time felt her smiling. ‘We don’t have to do anything else, Mycroft.’ Her voice was silky and soft and he desperately wanted her. ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

He couldn’t help his chuckle. ‘I think you underestimate how much I want to.’ He was glad he could make her chuckle as well. ‘Tell me what to do.’ He breathed, kissing her lightly, just savouring the taste of her for a few moments longer.

‘What do you want to do?’

‘I want you.’ Mycroft responded almost instinctively. He heard her suck in a harsh breath, the indication that she wanted him as well, but still he hesitated.

Bethany’s hand pressed against his chest, telling him to take a moment to stop. ‘Mycroft, there’s no shame in not being ready. I can wait.’ She said, placing her own kiss on his lips. Until that moment, he’d been kissing her, but the simple act of her returning the gesture was enough to satisfy him completely.

Her fingers found the small patch of chest hair that always stuck out from his shirt collar, he was often embarrassed by it, but somehow when she touched him like that, the delicacy, it was everything to him. She moved up his neck and gently caressed the back of his neck, pulling him into one last kiss.

Mycroft hummed against her and felt the reaction of her body lifting up a little. He wished he could have found the courage to simply have what he wanted, but somehow the first night they went to dinner and he truly got to know her, ending up kissing her for the first time on his two-seater in the middle of his projector room, this wasn’t the way he wanted to be with her.

Bethany smiled against him again, knowingly.

‘I’m sorry.’ Mycroft whispered, but she wasn’t in the slightest bit disappointed with him, Bethany just kissed him softly again and they remained close until he realised how late it was. ‘I should take you home.’ He said.

Bethany opened her eyes, having nearly fallen asleep so close to him. Part of him wished she did so that he could watch her resting peacefully, but then again, he would only have been tempted to take her to bed with him.

Mycroft got them both up and continued to be the gentleman he was, holding her coat for her, opening the car door and never overstepping the boundary that had now been placed between them. The car ride was a little more awkward than he had intended, but Bethany just smiled at him and made him feel more relaxed. She reached across and held his hand when it was clear he was slightly tense, something he hadn’t known he needed until she did it.

‘I apologise that tonight did not end on a high note.’ He said as they pulled into the darkened street that she lived on.

‘I don’t know, it ended pretty well if you ask me.’ That gorgeous smile was back and Mycroft felt settled once again. ‘You don’t need to keep apologising, Mycroft. You just need to be yourself.’ She leaned over and placed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Let me know if you want to do this again sometime, until then, try not to cause too much trouble.’ Bethany winked at him and never had he felt so calm around another person.

‘I could say the same to you.’ Mycroft shot back. ‘Goodnight, Bethany.’

‘Goodnight, Mycroft.’ She smiled and got out of the car, heading inside her home.

Mycroft was driven back to his house and his driver left in a slightly annoyed mood, but it really wasn’t Mycroft’s main concern at that moment. He was replayed the night in his head over and over again, more specifically, he was remembering the feel of Bethany’s lips against his and the regret he felt at doing nothing more than that.

He went to bed a little frustrated, but happy nonetheless.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

#Mycroft Holmes #mycroft holmes x ofc #mycroft holmes x reader #bbc sherlock #mycroft holmes fanfiction

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honeypotdrops · 2 months

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❀ All about Honey! ❀

┌──❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚─┐

I’ve been on tumblr since the dawn of time- for me anyway…

i survived the 2014 tumblr buzz and the awkward 2015 dan and phil phase and then my tøp era in 2016 making a swift exit shortly after this-

feeling nostalgic for it- i came back LMAO :)

so this is just me saying hi! and telling you a bit more about myself<3

i intend to eventually put my writing here and some drabbles of things i JUST NEED TO GET OUT OF MY HEAD and hopefully someone will enjoy it!<3

└───❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚┘

❀HI my name is Honey but, you can call me anything! Honey, Honeypot, H.. even Keith if you feel like it.. (maybe something nicer than Keith..)

✿ my pronouns are she/her!

❀I’m 23 and i’m a scorpio (boo’s and/or cheers are welcome depending on your opinions of us oct/nov babies)

✿I’m from the UK, yes i like tea- no i haven’t met the queen, but thanks for your curiosity<3

❀ Cats are my favourite in the whole wide world but i love all animals and wish i could adopt them all-

✿ this blog is A SAFE PLACE- everyone is welcome here regardless of gender, race, sexuality etc, don’t be a fool, i won’t tolerate it.

❀ i’ve been known to have been a hardcore clickie back in the day, saying that like i was born in the 1800’s? one of my first concerts i ever went to was a TØP show in London back in 2016 and i screamed my little 16 year old heart out-

✿ i enjoy writing and reading, i love art and anything to do with it- give me a pen and paper and i’ll draw for hours- i like music a lot, my taste has changed over the years and i have a new favourite song every 3-5 business days, i like to play games- i like Minecraft, call of duty (even though i suck ass when i do play) I was a child of the 2010’s so anything Nintendo is also my vibe.

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

I’m sure at some point i’ll write a less rushed version of this but for now this is enough food for thought :)

love ya!

-Honeypot<3

#writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #about me #honeypot #come say hi!#new writer #back again #returning to tumblr

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randomoranges · 1 year

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idk maybe cause i ran out of videos i wanted to repost my old ancient DECADE OLD iamp fics as well. idk why. these are old. but. once upon a time they lived here. then i accidentally deleted my blog. it’s been 10 yrs. [how how how how how]

listen, we all know my go to is the soft moments and all about the “”human”” connections instead of the historical ones. also say what you will about how qcon was the main ship and such, but hey, being from qc it was an easy ship to explore. oh ya also i was also alwayyyyysssssss a bigger fan of using the human names since 5evr. #shrugemoji #aucunsregrets;)

ANYWAYS - i didnt “”fix”” these fics up. i fixed up the odd typo i found and maybe one structure but i kept them as they were in their imperfect decade old state.

idk why i put a preamble. maybe in case anyone Wondered,

IAMP

Bring Me Home

327

Based on a drawing Lomitzz made. At long last, I’m dipping into IAMP land.

Jean remembered being here, in this spot, or at least, the same building, before. It seemed every time Oliver was being shipped to the other end of the world, Jean would drive him to the airport, and then come pick him up, if he could, and if they were on speaking terms. It was almost like a private tradition.

It would be one spot, when he left Oliver and another spot, when he would come and pick him up, but they were the same spots, all the time. He would stand in the same general area, by the same pillar and he would wait. One time, he would wait to see the last of Oliver’s curls disappear, behind the wall, the other time, he would wait to catch the same glimpse, of those same curls.

Jean wished he would have known Oliver’s plane was going to be late, in order to sneak in a cigarette. He knew how much Oliver disliked the smell of smoke, and he tried not to smoke too much around him. He’d go outside when he could and when he remembered, but Oliver still complained about the smell and the taste that clung to his very being. Or so Oliver said.

He frowned, as he looked at the arrivals pane. Flight AC117 was still marked as delayed. He heard someone say, a few minutes ago, that the plane had landed, but if it had, none of its passengers had come out.

Oliver had left for one of his endless business trips, ten days ago. They were used to their hectic schedules, to Oliver’s constant traveling, for one reason and another, but for some reason, this time, it weighed on him. He wanted to hold Oliver close and listen to him prattle on about some detail, he could care less about, until they made it home. He wanted to sit on the couch, with him, and tug at his curls, gently, watching them bounce back, with rapt fascination.

He must have been lost in his thoughts, for suddenly, he heard a distinct yowl and hiss. He looked in front of him, as his eyes focused, and he caught sight of the familiar curls he had been daydreaming about, and the ever present Maple Leafs jersey. Of course, if nothing else, the jersey would travel along. His scowl lessened and his stance relaxed, a little.

Oliver walked over to him, his pace accelerating, as he pulled his suitcase and two travel cages. As he got closer, Jean heard Schrodinger’s angry hisses and Fred’s little plaintive mewls. He couldn’t say he had missed the cats. Definitely not Schrodinger, but Fred was okay. She found him to be okay, and that was okay with him. He didn’t have to worry about his every move, and his life, around her.

He waved at them; to Oliver, really and Oliver gave him a smile and hurried his step. When he finally got to him, Jean took the travel cages from him and put them down. He then opened his arms and Oliver easily stepped up to him, throwing his arms around his neck. Jean hugged him back, holding him close, and buried his face in Oliver’s neck and hair. For now, this felt like home. He’d enjoy the feeling for as long as it lasted.

Oliver let himself be held, leaning into Jean and he sighed, glad to be home, relieved and pleased that Jean had come to pick him up. The flight had been long and tiring and it was nice to have a small something to look forward to.

In all honesty, he had missed Jean, more than usual. He wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t about to start psycho-analysing it either. He snuggled closer in the embrace and felt Jean’s arms tighten around his waist.

They stayed that way, for a moment, enjoying it for everything it was worth. They remained silent, exchanging words, through their embrace. It was hello and welcome back, I missed you, how was your trip, and all the I love yous they had never told each other, but that they had guessed, in the other’s actions and attentions.

When they finally pulled back, Oliver smiled softly at him and Jean returned the gesture. He then took Oliver’s suitcase and Fred’s traveling cage, before looping their arms together. Oliver leaned into him a little and they both exited the airport, heading home.

FIN 1

Started writing: October 5th 2013, 6:52pm

Finished writing: October 5th 2013, 8:19pm

Started typing: December 17th 2013, 8:56pm

Finished typing: December 17th 2013, 9:12pm

#LOOK AT THE DATE STAMPS #I AM LOSING MY MIND #2023 me is going why the frig did oliver bring his cats along #but i guess ill never know why that seemed like a good idea at the time #what do we tag these things as lamao #iamp: ontario #iamp: quebec #cant believe im using these tags in 2023 #pc: ontario #pc: quebec #qcon #good lord someone hold me what even is this lamao

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nagamas · 1 year

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Note to myself: Remember to log out

Fic by Anonymous for @slotumn A/N: Hello my dear friend, I wish you a happy new year and hope that all your wishes come true and that you can achieve all your goals.

“Note to myself: Remember to log out”

By: Anonymous

-Like … Retweet … Block… Hahahaha… Really?...Like… Follow… -Claude, a photographer student, was enjoying Twitter, looking and reacting to different posts while traveling in the subway.

-Are you serious @GoldenD3er?" some random person answered about a joke he would do to his worst enemy. -"Of course @Ashen_Demon, that's one of many of ideas in my head. Nice nickname by the way"

--Next stop: Riegan Av. --- announced a voice in the megaphone

-Oh, so soon? - he asked himself while keeping the phone. Once in the street, Claude stretches his legs, enjoying the view of a calm city in the evening, but the travel wasn't over, he opened again his phone and asked for an Uber, there were buses that could take him home, but there was something important to do and little time to do it.

Once in the car and in the privacy of the back seat, he pulled out again his phone, logged out of twitter and entered again, this time with another account: Username: @Fallen_Star.

It was a special account where he follow profiles a bit more… spicy. For example, artist drawing fictional characters with less clothes than the original designs, people posting links to mature fanfiction of famous books and movies, and his favorites, people showing their photos in daring postures and outfits.

There was something alluring, seeing people without embarrassment or doubts, showing them to the world just how they like without worries, in poses and clothes that made his imagination run wild, it always aroused him without fail, sometimes even more than her girlfriend.

Some months ago, somehow he won a Christmas raffle of a famous woman , the prize a “Sexy Christmas pack”, including the most basic stuff but the most funny for him was normal black underpants with just a little image of a deer, as a reference to Santa’s sleigh, but it didn’t had any christmas decoration or figure on it. “It was the only thing I could get in time” was the answer thought a direct message while thanking her for the gift. “And tell me, could we see you using that?” she asked “If you want I could share it in my account, you know I’m a big star here babe, one retweet from me and you’ll be really famous ;)”

The idea resounded in his head for the next days, could he really became as famous as one of the many account he follows? He considered himself handsome, and constant exercise in the university gym made his body well formed, but could he endure to show his face and exposed body to the wotrld? … “Well maybe not the face…”

“Hello babes! @Opera_Mittelfrank announcing a new guy in the comunity. He’s a little shy and avoid showing his face, but I’m sure his body would be enough to Follow him, now give all your love to the one and only @Fallen_Star!”

It was amazing how the internet works, one day you are a no one, then a bit of luck occurs with a raffle, you publish a photo of yourself with a simple deer mask and an underpants with a little deer, and the next day you have more than 1k followers asking for more.

At first the photos were only aimed to his torso, but with every new entry and upload his shyness began to fade, leading to more spicy photos highlighting more private zones.

Using his photograph knowledge thanks to his classes and having a wide apartment made easier to create unique scenarios and fresh material, keeping him busy and especially fun.

Once in the apartment, he immediately changed for that day session, the classic deer’s underpants combined this time with birthday’s accessories.

-Some photos later-

“Al right, let’s see – he said out loud checking the material in his laptop – We’ll use these ones, the birthday hat seems nice right in my… and the color it also alright, a bit blurry but it will work. Now, let’s write the special message…”

-----

*bzzzt*

Her cellphone sounded, showing the new notification, the bus was almost empty and there was no one close to see her screen, so no need to wait. She was hoping for that special announcement since weekend, “please be good, please be good” she thought before reading.

“Hello my dear followers, @Fallen_star here giving you my last work, thanking you all for your support in my first year in this awesome platform. As a token of my love, I’ll follow my teacher example and give you a raffle. The price, a pair of photos wearing whatever you want. See the rules below. See you later and good luck, Date limit…”

“Oh come on, I never won anything in this raffles” she grunted… while giving a like and a retweet to participate. “Oh, I’m almost there” she realized while recognizing the scenery. Lysithea stood up ready to descend in the next stop.

---

“Wow, only 5 minutes and the participants are almost at 200” Claude was surprised seeing so much people interested in his body, it also make him proud and a bit excited… fortunately that could be solved. Once changed to his normal clothes, putting everything in place in the dark room and double checking to don’t leave anything compromising outside, he closed the room and went to the kitchen.

“Some cheese, the wine is already there, she will bring the bread and …

Toc, toc, toc.

A sound at the door interrupted his work, a smile appearing in his face.

“It’s open! – he shouted – I’ll see you in the living room, also pick the movie”

“Claude?!, I swear someday something bad will really happen if you are so careless!” his girlfriend answered back a bit annoyed, “how do you know it was me an not some thief?”

“Well you see- he walked to living room with the food in some porcelain dishes – you are so small that your footsteps make no sound, so when suddenly someone knock the door without me hearing steps in the hall, I know it’s… ouch!”

Lysithea didn’t hold back and tossed him a pillow from the couch, that landed cleanly in his face.

“You’ll make me spill the food – Claude warned her while keeping the balance.

“You know I hate your jokes about my… my…. you already know!” she shouted back, visible angry and giving him the back.

Claude sighed, he still didn’t know how she falled in love with her considering his explosive nature, he left the food on a near table and slowly approached her.

“Oh come on sweet pie, you know I’m joking. Besides, you didn’t comply last night when, thanks to your stature, we could try that new position you saw in…”

-She turned back once again but with great embarrassment, her face was so red and her body trembling without control: “Shut up, I knew I shouldn’t have tell you about that”

“But it was really fun- he teased back – at least you seem to enjoy it more than…”

Another pillow flew but he avoided this time, making fun of her was a treasure but it was time to stop.

“Ok ok, I’ll shut up, besides I don’t want to ruin my turn tonigh, you remember today is…”

“Yeah yeah I know – she answered a bit more composed but still flustered – the clothes are already in my bag” she get embarrassed again, thinking what would be using later that night.

“Perfect – he said getting even closer, gently picking her chin to look her directly in those pink eyes- you know I love you right?”

“Yes, you dummy” she said while closing the gap among them to share the first kiss of the afternoon.

“Now stop being a bully and let’s watch the movie, my friend Cyrid recommend…”

-Are you still watching? – the text in the tv asked to no one since both of them left to the dorm room more than one hour ago.

-The next day-

“See you later honey, gotta go early today”

“Yeah, take care…” Claude answered still sleepy “don’t forget to…” he heard an specific sound.

“Sweet pie?”

“Yes?” she asked a bit nervous

“Are you trying to open the dark room”

“Maybe..”

Sigh “You know that…”

“Yes yes, important photos could be damaged if I open it harshly, come on!, at let me see the room at least once! I want to know how it looks” she argued back.

“Someday I promise, but not today, now go or you’ll miss the bus”

Some minutes later he heard the door closing, he left some minutes pass and stood up, heading to the dark room and getting everything ready to some quick shoots before going to school.

---

*bzzzt*

Her cellphone sounded, announcing than @Fallen_star uploaded just now another photo.

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

-2 weeks later-

“It sounded funny, but it was a real mess” Claude tought while taking the third shower in less that half hour, the winner of his raffle had a very specific request as her prize “I want your first photos, but being covered in oil”

“Wow! Just wow!, you went all in my dear @Spellcaster_luna! To ask for such a sexy thing” he said to the winner by private message

“You said the winner could ask for anything, are you retracting now?”

“Never, I’m sure it’s going to be a mess but also seem pretty funny, I’ll sent it once they are done, if you want to share them to everyone is up to you…”

He missed one day to school just to have enough time to take the photos and clean it all without Lysithea noticing, “I hope you like them ;)” he said trough the app while sending the material.

“Now, I have till noon to myself, maybe some videogames or reading…”

---

“Miss Gloucester, is everything ok?” The professor Hannenman asked to the young girl after hearing her yelping in her place.

“No, no, no – she said extremely embarrassed and flustered – I mean, yes, everything is… no, sorry professor but – he packed all her things and stood to get out the classroom – I must go, sorry for interrumpting you”

Everyone in the room get confused, she was well knowed for his good behavior and seriousness.

--Your Uber is almost there –

The phone showed, she was waiting outside the university trying to control herself, “Damn it damn it, he looks so hot! “ it was everything in her mind, seeing the photos that the Fallen Star sent her really affected her. She loved Claude above everything, and she felt a bit guilty asking for such things in twitter, but it was a price she never expected to get and technically it wasn´t cheating, she just like to see those profiles to get ideas and add more excitement to her relationship.

-Your Uber just arrived-

A red car parked near, she get inside and said to the driver.

“Thanks, I’m sorry but I don´t want to talk during the trip, please try to get as fast as possible to the destiny” – the driver, named Alois, get sad because he alwys liked to tell jokes to the passengers, but he respected her desires.

All that excitement had to get out somehow, she had an special underwear hidden in the apartment, for an special day, and today was that day. But she needed to set the mood in the bedroom for that, “with Claude outside I have enough time” she thought while seeing the photos again. Her excitement increased once again.

She stormed in the apartment using for the first time her spare key, all her plans halted after seeing Claude standing in the hallway just wearing a towel, “Lysithea! – he shouted with surprise – what are you…” he got interrumpted after being tackled and shutted down with a passionate kiss.

It felt really different, something wild was inside her girlfriend and really wanted to get out.

“Shut up, I want to make something more special but it will do – she kissed him again – come to bedroom, let’s try something new – she grabbed his hand and guided him – also… do you know how to use oil during…

They laid exhausted hugging each other in the bed

Claude was really surprised, he didn’t’ know she could be so passionate and wild, also it was weird to get covered in oil twice in a day.

Lysithea on the other side felt fulfilled and happy, she grabbed her phone when his companion stood up and, without thinking, texted back to Fallen_star to thanks him for the gift.

“Thanks a lot <3 “ a simple yet sincere message.

At the same time Claude ‘s phone ringed.

“Weird – she thought – my love, you cell just ringed – she said out loud since Claude had left for the bathroom

“I’m sure it’s a friend from the school , text him back please”

“Ok – she answered while picking it – oh wait, it’s a twitter message, it’s from someone named Spell…

Claude almost shoot down the door of the bath , the sudden arrival of her and the subsequent events make him forgot to log out, in that moment he felt the true terror.

“Honey, please… I can explain it… you see…”

She stood there without know what to do, a lot of things need to be processed, but she only grabbed her phone and show it to him.

“What is… are those my… YOU ARE?!...”

-The next weekend-

“Are you sure… what if they don´t like me?”

“Are you insane! You are gorgeous, the world must know you, only if you want of course”

In the ex dark room, now reconstructed as a mini photo studio, Lysithea stood there wearing a cat mask and black underwear that matched perfectly with the white piece Claude was wearing.

“Fine… I still don´t know how you convinced me” she hugged and kissed him in the cheek “but are you sure you don´t want to continue in your main account”

“No, I did it to get more excitement in my life… but having you is way more excitement than I could handle, and we can close this account whenever we want and just enjoy ourselves” he kissed her back and pet her head.

“Now, last chance, are you ready?”

She nodded and without warning she clicked in the computer.

“Hello my dear followers, today is the day that this account will be closed, Don’t be sad since we’ll be migrating to @Verdant_wind (special prize to the one that guess why we choose that name) and I say “we” because also today I’m presenting you to someone very special to me and that would be companying me in this new era. Say hi to @Swe3tCat and give her all your support <3 “

In the tweet, also appeared a photo of a couple, the well knowed Fallen_star next to a beautiful girl, with a skin as white as the snow in some gorgeous black attire, but the most important thing, they seemed extremely happy and in love.

#Nagamas 2022 #anonymous #slotumn #fanfic #claude #lysithea #nagamas

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determinedwriter · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 Day 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no one there except the moon.”

About ready to start sobbing, I draw in a notebook instead. Doing something with my hands always helps my emotions. I think I get that from my dad.

He’s always doing something in his workshop. Always making himself busy. And when he’s not, he’s usually with Pepper. I’m unsure if he even likes hanging out with me anymore. I don’t remember the last time we had movie night.

I draw what I remember of my mother. I haven’t seen her face in five years. Big brown eyes like mine. Brown hair. Beautiful lips. A voice I can’t recall.

Sketching, I begin to draw the wildlife I used to see. The springs that Mom taught me how to swim in. My old stuffed rabbit.

I have none of those things anymore. And as I get older, I resemble my mother more and more. Looking in the mirror is almost painful. It’s like a memory of her face, though I know it’s just mine.

Drawing until my hand hurts, I shut the notebook and stare out of my window at the moon. “Just you and me again, huh?”

Of course the moon doesn’t speak back, but I wish it could. “I can’t sleep. I miss my mom. I miss her so much.”

I long for her voice in my ears and her arms around me. “Mom, I wish you could tell me if you’re out there…somewhere.”

The stars don’t give me any answers, the moon giving it’s usual silence. Every night like this, I beg for some crazy revelation. Some epiphany that will make my loss less painful. Proof of a peaceful afterlife I cannot yet see.

“Mom, please give me something. Anything.” I plead.

The sky is full of stars, but I don’t see anything particularly magnificent. “I’ll take a shooting star or something. Come on.”

Chuckling bitterly, I sigh. “‘Course not.”

I’ll always be alone, won’t I?

Opening the window, I swing my legs out and contemplate sneaking out. Friday speaks before I can even finish the thought.

“I advise you not to do that, Miss Stark.” She says.

“What, because you’ll tell my dad?” I ask, exasperated.

“Yes. It’s not safe to leave.” She explains.

“Whatever.” I groan, getting back inside and closing the window. “You’re no help.”

Damn Friday. She’s the AI that runs the compound and helps as much as she can around here as a disembodied voice.

“Is Dad asleep or working?” I ask.

“He’s on a date with Miss Potts.” She says.

An idea comes to me. “Here or outside somewhere?”

“Out.” Friday answers.

If Dad isn’t here, he can’t bust me for sneaking out. Sure Friday will notify him, but he won’t get back here in time to do anything about it. I need air.

“Be right back…” I tell the AI. What if I just use the front door? Would I even be caught if I used the code to unlock it?

Throwing on a jacket and shoes, I enter the PIN code for the door and get my earpiece before I exit without issues.

My earpiece is my own AI, ARIES. She’s always been a friend I can talk to, even if I’m the one who made her. And I prefer her over Friday. Not that I’d ever tell Friday that.

Like I could ever hurt a computer's feelings…

I walk around the facility, glad to get a little break and some fresh air. Before I can get too far, I see Dad driving up and I duck down behind a bush.

He and Pepper exit the car, clearly smitten with each other. My stomach twists when I hear what they’re talking about.

“We should have a baby.” Dad tells her.

“Tony, you and I both know that’s a bad idea. If you wanted a kid, you wouldn’t still work on your suits so often.” Proper replies.

“I’m doing that to protect us. Come on, Pep. How cool would it be to have a little kid running around? You and I would have a cute baby.” He tries to convince her.

She pauses. “As long as you’re Iron Man, I don’t see that happening.”

“Pep, you’d be a great mom. Imagine the three of us. And-“ He stops.

Dad groans. “Aurora Stark, I see you in the bushes.”

Damn it.

I stand up. “I wasn’t sneaking out, I just didn’t want you to see me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Uh huh.”

“I’m serious, I just-“ I try to explain.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Dad interrupts. “Room. Now. Can’t have one nice night…”

I gulp, marching to my room. He doesn’t listen to me. I just needed air. Still angry, Dad follows me inside with Pepper.

“You know you can’t just do things like that, Ro.” Pepper tries to reason with me.

“I needed air. I wasn’t going to leave the compound.” I reply.

“You don’t do that in the middle of the night.” Dad says. “Unless you were trying to sneak off to some party.”

“You don’t even listen to me. I just needed…” I try to verbalize my feelings, coming up short. I needed to be closer to the moon and stars. To my mom. Somewhere I could feel free and not trapped in a giant compound full of Avengers.

“I needed my mom.” I finally say. “Hell, I needed you. I’ve needed you for a long time and you’re never around.”

Dad grits his teeth. “You’re old enough to take care of yourself. I have work to do.”

“You’re not too busy to go on date nights with Pepper though.” I point out.

“Don’t bring her into this.” He warns subtly.

“I heard you talking.” I reveal. “You wanna have a baby? Really? She’s right. As long as you’re Iron Man, you won’t have time for another kid. You don’t even have time for one. It’s like I don’t even exist. I’m not even on your radar.”

“You know that’s not true.” Dad protests.

“You told Pepper to imagine the three of you. You, her, and a baby. No me. I can never fit in your world no matter how hard I try to be who you want me to be. I know you were in college at my age, but I’m just not you. And whenever things get a little too quiet at night, I think of my mom. About what was done to her. I watched her die.” I rant.

He pauses. “I know that. And you’re right. You’re not me. I lost my parents young too and I didn’t need to be babied.”

I clench my fists. “I’m not asking to be babied, I’m asking to be seen!”

“We see you, honey.” Pepper reassures me.

“I’m always going to be in your shadow. And if you do have a kid, I’ll be in their shadow too. Don’t let me get in the way of your little family though.” I spit.

“Stop.” Dad replies sternly. “Stop this NOW.”

“Right. You don’t wanna hear it. No matter how much it hurts me to feel invisible. Just get out.” I say in defeat.

He doesn’t say another word, Pepper giving me a sympathetic look before following him. I slam the door, earning an annoyed groan from Dad.

I’m right back where I started tonight. Completely and utterly alone.

And on top of that, unloved.

0 notes

whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Monday 10 June 1833

8 35

12 ½

very fine and F69° at 8 35 washing out sheet stain but at my desk at 9 50 – read from p. 62 to 95 vol. ii. Mrs. Colonel Eltons’ overland Journey to India – breakfast with my aunt at 10 ½ - busy putting up in her room the 2 flower pieces that used to be in the little sitting room, and putting Sir William Fawcett over the fireplace in my bedroom and doing up in paper and putting at the bottom of hat place in armoire the piece of embroidery flowers, done by my aunt Martha and that used to hang in the drawing room - at my desk at 12 25 - read over my letter written yesterday to Lady VC- very true that I have got into been forced into a procrastinating way, and ever since losing her my life has been one unvaried scene of pother - have been here 10 days, and no chance of being off till the end of the week - sick almost to death of the words law and business - sorry for Frampton’s (her law-man) illness - except thinking now and then a little of some of her friends hope her mind is too much engrossed with what is right at hand to waste its energy on deeds of law - wish she may catch my habit of delay - for nurses say that boys make far less haste than girls and I shall expect an heir -‘Hail to the chief that in triumph advances!’ I am very much delighted about it and charmed at Grand mamma’s providence and magnificence’ - fear my not being in London till the very end of this month with not be quiet the best thing -‘But I have no idea of their taking to your bed for very long - your prudence will have its reward - If everybody acted as sensibly as you seem to have done, arrivals would not give ½ the trouble - Not many more than one can be more anxious about your than I am, but I have no fear, and am rather impatient than uneasy’ - hope to be at Leamington on Tuesday week the 18th for a week or 10 days more or less - Charles Lawton’s Esquire Claremont house - ask for 2 or 3 lines to hear how she is going on - sorry for Captain Stuart’s being laid up with sprained foot - shall enclose note for Lady S- Heard from Lady Gordon not very long ago - could not tell her my plans - shall make none till ready to start from Paris - Cosmo to escort her to Rome - whether I shall get so far, quite uncertain - ‘If I do, I shall think of you more than anybody else – I

SH:7/ML/E/16/0067

might take you with me, but I am too much afraid of losing you again - I shall think of you every 15th of April, sans faute’ - Love to the Lady Harriet shall probably write from London as I have not yet thanked her for the settling proposal -‘the fact is I never in my life felt so little taste for settling as I have done since leaving Hastings - I can scarcely believe it is little more than a year since - adieu - may the blessings of heaven full thickly on you - affectionately yours AL’ - wrote the above of today and then till 1 ¾ wrote 3 pages of ½ sheet to Lady S- dated yesterday evening - began to think it a very long time since I heard from her, but Vere’s good account made me quite at ease - she was to be with V- in Wimpole street (57) last Saturday - hoped to see V- before the arrival - about 10 days here since my visits, and determined to be at Leamington on Tuesday week, the 18th after which counted upon seeing her (Lady S-) soon - perhaps Mrs. Lawton may not let me go under ten days, in that case the smallness of V-‘s house may have hasted Lady S-‘s return to the Lodge where I should be delighted to find her - my 2 new servants likely to suit me - ‘Eugenie has been in England so long and speaks the language so well, I almost forget she is a foreigner - Everybody speaks well of her, and I really hope she is the nice, clever, respectable sort of person I want’ - Lady Gordon going to Rome for the winter and may return by Spain - ‘I have been so often and vexatiously disappointed, I shall fix nothing till the last moment - Is Lady Stuart de Rothesay in London? and how are the dear girls?’ - shall [write] undercover to Captain S- sorry he is laid up - ‘Adieu, dear Lady Stuart, and believe me very truly and affectionately yours AL.’ then wrote the following on the ½ sheet of envelope - ‘Dear Captain Stuart - I am very sorry to hear from Vere, that a sprained foot kept you from Ascot - I hope it will not keep you prisoner long - will you be so good as take charge of the packet enclosed - very truly yours AL Shibden hall 9 June 1833’ – then enclosed my letter (1/2 sheet full and 1 p. and 1 end of envelope) to ‘the lady Vere Cameron 57 Wimpole street’ and my letter to ‘the honourable Lady Stuart 57 Wimpole street’ undercover to ‘Captain Stuart M.P. Grenadier Guards, Whitehall, London’ – Sent off my letters at 2 50 and then at my accounts again for a few minutes then downstairs till 3 ¾ - from then to 6 ½ at my desk, making out accounts of 1 sort or other for estate summary – Had Marian up for ½ hour – gave her a list of my fathers’ Shibden rents, and drew up a statement for her of the whole of his income Market W- etc. taken from her own telling – told her great a grainer he might have been by leaving more of the management me and to my own way – Dinner at 6 ½ in 40 minutes my aunt with part of the time – out at 7 ½ after washing and making myself comfortable – in my walk, and took Marian with me, and she staid all the time till after 9 – then walked 20 minutes on the terrace and came in at 9 25 – came upstairs at 10 20 at which hour F70 ½° on the dressing table (where it now always lies) in my bed room (blue room) – very fine day – very sultry this afternoon as if for thunder but heard none – came into my study and calculating advance on my father’s part and what upper land (45D.W.0qrs.12p.) to let, and what lower land (by 15D.W.) to let – say 40D.W. at 40/. = £80. and 15D.W. at 60/. = £45 total £125 per annum that may be let off – went to my room at 11 50 -

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Love is Outside the Screen - Part III - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: The one where Reader plays Vision in the MCU and she falls in love with her co-worker Elizabeth Olsen.

Warnings: (+18), smut, sexual themes, strap on use, teasing, fingering, sexual suggestions, explicit language, explicit, obscenity, a bit of praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, bottom reader mostly, switch dynamics, power dynamic changes, slight possessive sex, brief angst, alcohol mentions, arguing, jealously, fluffy.

Words: 7.935 K

A/N> Instead of writing my series, I'm continuing works that were finished already. This is basically porn honestly haha No, but jokes aside, we have fluffy moments with a lot of smut. Good reading everyone!

Part One | Part Two | All Works Masterlist || AO3

//-//-/////-///-//

Love is Outside the Screen - Part III

Northern Ireland, two years ago.

You slipped under the long wooden table as the script indicated.

Your character was supposed to give a slight nod, and then gasp because of the torso injury, and you followed the script perfectly.

When the director yells cut, you stand up, trying not to bump into the makeover they did on your clothes.

"That was great, guys!" Shouted Alex Graves in the direction of the cast scattered around the medieval set. "Let's call it a day."

You were exhausted.

The Game of Thrones footage was absolutely grueling, and time-consuming, although it allowed you to learn something new with almost every scene.

Walking back toward the dressing room to clean up your makeup, you smiled shyly at the girls in the salon who congratulated you on the day's performance while helping you to remove your costume.

While they were going through your hair, you decided to check your cell phone.

There were two missed calls from Lizzie, and you felt your heart swell with guilt immediately.

She had also sent you messages asking if everything was okay, or if you were busy, and saying that she missed you, and you wish you had answered them all, but your routine had been completely absurd.

You felt your chest ache with longing every time you thought of your girlfriend.

When you signed the contract, you knew the conditions, and so did Lizzie. But nothing prepared you for the real thing.

Almost three months without a decent conversation, not even video calls, and the lack of her in your life was making you frustrated and irritated all the time. You were sinking into the screenplay and the recordings, because you simply hated not having Lizzie in your day-to-day life.

"Thank you girls." You said as soon as you noticed the makeup completely removed from your abdomen.

The change in the script killed your character sooner than expected, and you should go home early, even though it was going to take two or three months, it was much less than originally planned.

Grumbling softly, you went back to the dressing room, deciding to call Lizzie now that you would have a little time alone.

She doesn't answer until the second-to-last ring.

"Yes?" Her husky voice signals that she was asleep, but all you can feel is your body shaking at the sound.

"It's me, baby." You reply tenderly as you sit back in the armchair, pressing the cell phone to your ear as if you wish you could reach into the device and touch your girl.

"Oh, hey." She comments sleepily, and you wonder if she has closed her eyes again, or even opened them. "It's late."

"I know, I'm sorry." You say leaning back in the armchair. "I wanted to check that everything was okay because I couldn't answer you earlier."

"Don't worry, darling." She says softly, almost sleepily. "I just missed you."

"Me too, my love." You assure her, feeling your chest tighten slightly. My god, you just want to see her, hold her, touch her. "Lizzie, darling, are you asleep?"

"Yes." She whispers, making you smile.

"I love you baby." You say. "Call me when you wake up, I will interrupt as many scenes as it takes to talk to you."

"Behave yourself in the studio, love." She mumbles sleepily, and you laugh lightly. It was the same warning she gave on your last day in California, on the way out of the airport. "I love you. And I miss you."

You cursed the entire movie company at once when you could perceive the upset in Lizzie's tone, even in her sleepy state. You repeated that you loved her one more time before hanging up the phone.

As you put your cell phone away to grab your keys and head back to the hotel, you wondered if a breach of contract was really so bad.

//-//

Present, California.

You felt Lizzie's arms wrap around you as soon as you made mention of getting out of bed. You smiled, turning your body to look at her.

Her sleeping figure with her eyes closed, her hair slightly tousled made your heart warm with affection.

You loved her so much.

Raising your hand to her face, you stroked her cheek gently with your thumb, and watched the woman sigh softly, and even in her sleepy state, lean into your touch.

"Lizzie." You called softly, trying to wake her up. And did so again until she mumbled softly, leaning her face against the pillow. You let your hand wander to her hair, enjoying the softness as you stroked her scalp with your fingers. "We need to wake up baby."

Lizzie just mumbled again against the pillow cotton, making you smile at the cuteness of that scene.

You moved closer only to deposit short kisses across her face, and only stopped when she let out a husky giggle.

"Good morning, love." You whispered against her ear, and were about to pull away, but she tightened her arms around your waist, keeping you almost on top of her, making you smile.

"Good morning." She sighed back against the skin of your neck, and you blushed slightly when you felt her inhale your perfume and then tighten her fingers around your waist. "Fuck, I love you."

You laughed softly at her sudden, hoarse confession, but let your arms slip around her shoulders, burying your body against Lizzie's. The tenderness was wonderful, and she moved one hand up to caress your back while the other remained on your hip, her thumb moving across the skin beneath your blouse.

You tilt your face away just to look at her, and already you find her with her eyes wide open, a shy smile on her lips.

"I love you too, babe, but we need to get up." You tell her, and you almost get the impression that she's not even listening, because all she does is look at your face with adoration.

You bite back a smile as you feel her legs move beneath you, her bare foot caressing your ankle before she spins you around quickly and stands over you, the sudden movement making you sigh and tighten your arms intertwined around her neck.

"Lizzie!" You exclaim humorously, but all you get is a low murmur as she sinks her body against yours and buries her face in your neck.

"How much time do we have?" She asks against your skin, her lips dangling on that sensitive part of your collarbone and sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

"Enough." You reply already affected by her touch, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

Lizzie smiles against your neck, beginning to deposit chaste kisses against your skin, making you sigh softly.

It didn't matter how many times you had been together or for how long, your body reacted to her in the same way. You only hoped that you wouldn't be late for your appointment with the Marvel directors, but when Lizzie slipped her hand up into your pajamas, you didn't care about that anymore.

//-//-//

London, 1 year and 9 months ago.

It's your third time on "The Graham Norton Show."

You finished taping Game of Thrones the day before, and this was your last appointment before returning to California. To Lizzie.

Part of the cast is sitting next to you, and you are glad for that because you are distracted this evening and can use the time they answer questions to think about your girlfriend. And you miss her for sure.

Graham, the host, asked questions about the final season, and about day to day life on set, and after Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke commented on everything being amazing, and not telling anything about the plot since they weren't allowed to, you were slightly surprised that the subject shift went directly to the romance rumors between the cast.

"I hear that some of you have been becoming close friends outside the set." Graham begins with a chuckle, and you and the cast share a chorus of dissatisfaction that makes the audience laugh. "Which is normal in a long series of course. But we wanted to bring that in because we love gossip."

"Since I'm married, can I have a drink in the dressing room?" Kit jokes, drawing laughter from everyone.

"You're supposed to help us with the arguments". Graham replies humorously. He leans back in his chair slightly to point to the monitor behind him. "We have some behind-the-scenes photos here. And Miss Clarke looks very comfortable."

The audience laughed at the comment, and you tried to cover it up with an awkward laugh. It was a picture of Emilia Clarke, your colleague who plays Daenerys Targaryen, on your lap. But the moment was badly misinterpreted. The photo was taken right after one of the prom rehearsal scenes, and Emilia had gotten one of the coordinations wrong, and you laughed when she fell on you.

Of course, this kind of insinuation was happening because to the media, you two were two single women. And you were used to this kind of questioning, but still, it was always uncomfortable.

"We were dancing, Graham." Emilia argues humorously. "It's not what it looks like."

The audience lets out a chorus of disappointment, and you and Emilia giggle awkwardly.

"Was that the mating dance, ladies?" Graham teases and you want to dig a hole in the ground, but all you do is keep up with everyone's laughter. "Despite all the jokes, I think Marvel's couple is going to be threatened."

The comment makes your heart race, but the audience is very approving, applauding heartily.

At least with this you can talk about Elizabeth.

"Is tonight the night you are going to take over America's dream relationship or can we just keep saying that you and Emilia are together, since there is not the slightest chance that someone that attractive is single." Graham tells you with humor making the audience and cast laugh. You try to keep up, not wanting to seem rude. You wish you could tell him that there is nothing wrong with being single, but you don't think you want to create an awkwardness so you just settle back in your seat as you joke:

"Unfortunately I will deny it again, Graham" You reply. "And I'm not dating Emilia either, I assure you."

You spend the rest of the evening dodging the comments, and are exhausted by the time the interview is over.

"Hey, are you going back to the hotel already?" Kit asks you just as you walk back to the dressing rooms, and you deny it with your head.

"No chance, I'm leaving." You reply. "I'm going straight to the airport, I have a flight in two hours. What about you, Harington? Aren't you going home to see your wife?"

"I didn't know we were talking about wives." He jokes making you blush and look away. Kit didn't know about Lizzie, but he knew you had someone. "Of course I want to come home, but I still have some appointments here. And Rose is in Spain."

"That sucks, man." You comment and he murmurs in agreement, shrugging.

"Yeah, but longing sure makes the sex better." He retorts with amusement and you grimace before laughing.

"You're unbelievable." You joke before waving yourself off in farewell, turning in the direction of your dressing room.

As soon as you enter, you take your cell phone out of your pocket and try to call Lizzie, but it goes to voicemail. You leave a message saying that you can't wait to see her and get your things ready to leave.

After saying goodbye to the cast again, and taking a taxi to the airport, you receive a message, but it is not from Lizzie.

*Sara evil agent* sent you an attachment.

You frown at the matter. "Off-screen romance? Would GOT star Emilia Clarke be dating queer Marvel protégé?"

You call Sara the same minute.

"I literally said I wasn't dating her!" You complain as soon as she answers and hear Sara laugh on the other end.

"Oh, honey, I told you, the media loves a little gossip." She says. "And you need to stop setting up fake girlfriends so quickly, I can barely keep up."

You grumble in irritation and your agent lets out a giggle.

"Don't be so grumpy, it's just a rumor and the last time I checked you were a single woman so I don't see a problem." She says and you bite the inside of your cheek. Since your lack of excitement about GOT, Sara suspects something. Neither of you says anything, but you know she's not an idiot and figures you have a girlfriend. "Are you going back to LA already?"

"Yes, I'm catching my flight in an hour."

"I hope you're ready to record, Lady Vision." She jokes. "Your scene schedule is getting closer."

"I plan to rest this week." You warn, slightly distracted. "Game of Thrones really was something different."

"I just hope people like the ending."

You giggle and Sara wants to know why, but you don't give her any spoilers. After asking if everything was okay, and assuring her that you had eaten something before the interview, you hang up.

Lizzie didn't text you back and you fell asleep on the plane.

//-//-//-//-//

California, three years and eleven months ago.

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears.

But Lizzie's hand in yours was doing a good job of calming you down.

Maybe it was just because you had waited, or maybe it was because you were so much in love, but you don't remember feeling so nervous about the idea of having sex with someone. Not since your first time.

And well, now with Lizzie, it was actually only the first time you two were going to sleep together. You didn't have to be nervous, but you were.

Liz opened the bedroom door as soon as you two reached the room, and dragged you inside with her. You closed the wood as you entered.

The tension was palpable in the air, and you wondered if you stayed still long enough, she might hear your heartbeat.

You looked at her, your eyes locked on each other, and a shy smile on your lips as you approached, stopping inches from her body.

Lizzie holds her breath.

"Are you nervous?" You ask in a husky voice, raising your free hand to go around the length of her arm with your finger, admiring the way her skin shivers at your touch.

She just shakes her head and you smile, resting your hand on her cheek.

"It's just me." You comment as you lean your forehead against hers, and you both close your eyes in anticipation. "We can stop if you're not sure..."

"I'm sure." She interrupts half breathlessly, her hand tightening its grip before letting go of yours, so that she brings both hands to the sides of your neck. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You assure before breaking the distance, bringing your mouths together in a firm kiss that draws a sigh from both of you as your hands move up to Lizzie's waist.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to deepen, your tongues fighting together and the sensation making your head spin and your body heat up.

Lizzie gasped against your mouth before parting for breath, and you used the opportunity to let your fingers run down to the hem of her shirt as you pulled it up. In motion the piece was off, and she copied the same to remove your blouse.

You bit your lip as you looked at the sight of Lizzie's exposed torso in front of you, her nipples hardening in the air making you feel the tightness beneath your stomach increase.

You lunged forward, grabbing her left breast with your mouth, and Lizzie let out a loud noise in her throat, throwing her head back as your tongue skirted her left nipple.

She was so hot and smelled so good, and the sounds she was making were driving you insane.

You moved your hands up to her breasts as soon as you brought your mouths together again, your tongue circling hers as you played with her hardened nipples, and it wasn't long before Lizzie began to whimper, closing her legs and thrusting her hips towards yours for more friction.

You smiled against her lips, you would give her exactly what she needed.

//-//

California, one year and nine months ago.

Leaving your keys on the counter, you were surprised by the silence as you entered.

It wasn't that you wanted Lizzie to stay late to wait for you, except that it was exactly what you wanted.

You left your bag on the living room floor and called her name twice before assuming she was asleep.

Sighing slightly, you went up the stairs to your room, but it was empty. All the other rooms were empty, which made you frown.

Okay, you didn't expect Elizabeth not to be home just the day you were returning, after months of not seeing each other.

But you didn't have much time to think about what might have happened, because a clearly drunk Lizzie stumbled into the house, fighting against the lock and her own balance just as you were coming down the stairs.

"You're drunk?" You ask in a voice in a mixed tone of disbelief and concern upon seeing her, and Lizzie is startled for a moment before giggling.

"Look who's here, California!" She announced to the room with irony and with open arms, stumbling inside. "Hollywood's most eligible bachelorette, watch out ladies and gentlemen."

You frowned at the little scene, Lizzie walked with difficulty to the kitchen as you finished going down the steps, she murmured quietly and you with your arms crossed, trying to understand exactly what was going on.

"What happened to you?" you ask as you follow her across the room, Lizzie takes off her shoes with difficulty, almost falling to the floor at least twice. When you make mention of helping her, she holds up her hand for you not to, and you are starting to get worried.

"I went to have fun." She replies with a humorless laugh. "I can have fun."

"Of course you can." You retorted with a raised eyebrow, watching Lizzie take a deep breath and close her eyes as she leaned her back on the countertop, probably getting a headache from the way she buried her face in both hands for a moment. "Who did you go with?"

"I don't know, Mom." She sneered wryly, and you clenched your jaw. Lizzie laughed at your expression, and pouted. "Oh, did I upset you? Sorry, darling, I'll try to be a good girl for you."

You shook your head slightly.

"Babe, what is happ..."

"Don't call me that." She cuts off quickly and you look at her in surprise. Lizzie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and when she looks at you again, she has thick tears in her eyes and you feel your heart soar. "I saw the pictures on television, Y/N. I saw the pictures, I saw your interview, I saw the videos on instagram. And I guess I understand, because she's beautiful and we haven't seen each other in months but I thought you loved me..."

"wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt, confused and frightened, and Lizzie looks like a complete mess. She is crying and you reach up to touch her face, and try to calm her down. "Babe, breathe, I don't understand."

She whimpers softly, and you wonder how much booze she really has consumed.

"You are going out with that woman and I love you and everything is horrible." She declares in a whiny voice and you look at her with a frown.

"Lizzie, what..."

But she pushes you and walks off toward the bedroom, and you try to keep her from falling over drinking at least three times until she can get up the stairs properly.

"Lizzie, wait, talk to me." You beg but she keeps walking and you enter the bedroom a moment after her, watching her walk to the closet and start throwing all her clothes out while mumbling about cheating.

You take a deep breath with your hands on your waist, letting out a humorless laugh. It was an absurd scene to say the least.

"Elizabeth Olsen, stop this immediately!" You command as soon as she steps out of the closet, and she widens her eyes slightly as she shifts the weight of her feet before veering to the floor. You sigh as you walk toward her. "Babe, look at me."

"No."

"Lizzie."

Reluctantly, she does so. You soften your expression, feeling your heart soar at the image of her face, longing invading your whole heart.

"God, I missed you." You confess half breathlessly and Lizzie looks on the verge of tears. "Darling, where did all this come from? I'm not seeing any other girl."

"I saw the pictures..."

"Lizzie." You interrupt seriously, shaking your head slightly as your hands land on her shoulders. "I have no one but you. I would never cheat on you, I don't know where that came from. I wish you hadn't drunk so much so we could have a serious talk."

Lizzie gives a mischievous little smile, her gaze half lost because of the alcohol.

"I'm not drunk." She mumbles clearly intoxicated, making you chuckle slightly.

"Of course not." You said as you pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. "You made a mess in the bedroom, babe. Why don't you try to sleep while I clean up?"

Lizzie sighed, clearly tired but shaking her head in denial

"I don't want to sleep." She said as she brought her body closer to you, her hands squeezing your shirt. "I want you to fuck me."

You bit back a smile, looking at Lizzie with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?"

She murmured in agreement, her fingers trying to open the buttons of your shirt, but she was clearly in no condition to do so.

"I'd like that too, but you're drunk." You say as you move your hands to hold hers, smiling at the grumble of frustration she lets out. "Go lie down, I'll get some water."

"But..."

"Bed, Lizzie." You ordered again as you intertwined your hands to lead her to lie down.

She was reluctant a few times but eventually agreed and lay her down on the mattress, placing the comforter on top.

When you made mention of getting up, she held your hand.

"Don't go." She asked softly with her eyes almost closed. You smiled.

"Aren't you thirsty?"

Lizzie denied and pulled your hand, you moved closer to lie beside her and she wasted no time in entwining her body in yours.

You let your fingers run through her hair and she sighed lightly, not taking long to fall asleep. You waited a few more minutes before moving, getting out of bed as gently as possible so as not to wake her.

After collecting the clothes Lizzie had thrown across the room and putting them away in the closet, as well as putting the party clothes she was wearing in the wash, you went back downstairs, looking for your bag to take to your room.

Your cell phone vibrated as you walked up the stairs.

It was a message from Scarlet, and you laughed lightly as you read its content.

“I heard you're coming home today, right? Lizzie was really upset about the rumors that you were dating, and asked me to take her out for a drink. I dropped her off at home, but she was pretty shaky. I didn't know you two had a thing, can we talk about it over coffee tomorrow?”

You were relieved that Scarlett was the person accompanying Lizzie, but now she knew you two had something. You were tired of it honestly. The secret. All you wanted was for everyone to know how much you loved Lizzie. And judging from recent events, that was a problem for her too. Or at least it was enough for her to drink more than she should.

But you would have to wait until Lizzie woke up to have this conversation, so you went back to your room, and after putting away the clothes from your bag, you took a shower and put on your pajamas, wasting no time in joining Lizzie in bed again.

//-//-//

Caribbean, one year and six months ago.

Following the music, you continued to dance slowly, your hand around Lizzie's waist while the other was entwined in the air with hers.

The luxury hotel where you were staying that week was hosting a Hawaiian themed evening, and well, after spending the day in the pool area, you decided to dance a little.

In that moment, with Lizzie in your arms, you were at peace completely. Moments like these, like waking up with her in your bed, or cooking together, or rehearsing your lines while curled up on the couch under the blanket were more than enough to make you sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Lizzie.

You smiled before pulling your body away slightly, just to look at her. And she looked back at you with the same adoration, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You spun her into your arms then, making her laugh as you pulled her back, your hands resting on her neck as your hips swayed to the rhythm of the ukulele of the band playing on the stage.

There were a few other couples around, but you could hardly notice anyone but Lizzie.

You continued dancing, and you rested your forehead on hers, closing your eyes and breathing in her perfume. Lizzie smiled, stealing a quick kiss before resting her chin on your shoulder, following the rhythm of the dance.

When the show ends, you follow the crowd in the clapping for a moment before Lizzie entwines your hands and pulls you toward the bar.

"That was fun." She comments with cheeks flushed from the dance, her smile soft as you stand near each other, your hands intertwined as you reach for the menu.

"Dancing with you always is." You retorted charmingly, releasing her hand only to fit it against your waist, drawing a chuckle from Lizzie.

You ended up sharing some drinks and snacks, and you were starting to feel higher with each sip.

Lizzie was in the middle of a joke when you interrupted her.

"Marry me?"

She blinked in surprise, a confused chuckle escaping her lips.

"What?"

Maybe it was the drinking. Probably not, because with the emerald eyes looking so intently, you suddenly felt very sober. Your heart raced too, but you were never more sure of anything than you were now.

"Marry me." You repeat with a confident smile. Lizzie blushes with wide eyes.

"You... Are you serious?" She asks in surprise, and you let out a sigh, moving closer to take her hands and put them down on your racing heart.

"I love you." You tell her with nothing but sincerity. "I want to spend my life with you. I was planning something bigger, perhaps, at your parents' summer house. I would get down on one knee in front of your family and hand over the ring I've been carrying for three months." You confess and watch her look at you in shock. "I've been waiting for the right moment, Lizzie. But I've just realized that every second with you is the right moment. I want you to be my wife. Do you want me to be yours?"

It took a second for her to react, her expression changing from shock to pure happiness, the tears appearing in her eyes and the smile so big it made her eyes small.

"Yes, yes, of course." She replied between one shy laugh and another, moving forward to kiss you over and over again.

You couldn't stop smiling as you kissed her, and you giggled against each other's mouths, pulling apart to embrace each other.

It didn't take long for the people around the bar to notice and start clapping, but you didn't care.

All you were seeing was your future wife.

//-//-//-//

California, 1 year and 9 months ago.

You finished putting the coffee jug on the tray, the last missing item, before carrying it to your room, taking careful steps not to trip over anything on the way.

Lizzie was already awake, but still in bed. The glass of water in her hands and the missing pill on her bedside table indicated that she was already treating her hangover.

"Good morning, darling." You greeted as you entered, walking over to the bed to leave the platter on top of the sheet next to Lizzie.

"You're home." She commented in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, you just made a noise with your mouth as she sighed, running her hand over her face, probably because of her headache. "When did you get home?"

"Last night." You respond by watching her. "Just before you."

"Sorry." She says moving closer. You gently pull away from her attempt to kiss her lips, and Lizzie frowns. "What?"

"I was worried." You state seriously. Lizzie lets out a sigh, leaning her back against the bed completely. "I thought you were going to pick me up at the airport, but you didn't call. And then I find the house empty. Until you arrived, completely drunk at dawn."

Lizzie crossed her arms, looking away. It was your turn to sigh.

"What's happening, Elizabeth?"

"It 's nothing."

"Elizabeth."

"Stop it." She asks impatiently, turning her face to you again. "Don't call me that."

You just frown in confusion. "It's your name."

"No." She exclaims annoyedly, closing her eyes for a moment. "You only call me Elizabeth when you're angry. And you can't be angry at me because I have the right to go out!"

You watch her stand up, as if running away from the conversation, and you sigh impatiently, massaging your temple with your finger. Lizzie begins to remove her dress, clearly intent on going to take a shower.

"I never said you had no right to go out, Elizabeth." You retort ignoring the annoyed grunt she lets out at you continuing to call her by her full name. "I just think I have the right to ask why after we agreed on something, you changed plans at the last minute and decided to disappear."

"It's funny that you want to demand something from me when you've spent the last few months without giving me any satisfaction of where or who you were with!" She accuses angrily and you grimace in indignation.

"Oh, so it's about my work?" You retort angrily. "The last time I checked we had decided that I was going to record and come home. You said you were fine with that!"

Lizzie gave a humorless laugh, her dress falling to her feet as she worked to remove her bra.

"Well, you know what, I wasn't!" She shouts angrily, throwing the bra angrily into the closet. You need to remember that you are angry with her as you have the vision of her breasts exposed in front of you while she is yelling at you. "I didn't agree to the endless get-togethers with all those sluts around you! And I sure didn't agree with your flushed face on television flirting with Emilia Clarke in front of the whole country!"

You stared at Lizzie in shock, but she just grunted in irritation before turning to go to the bathroom.

"No, I think it's so funny you bring that up, you know, Elizabeth." You spoke aloud as you stood up to follow her. "Because when I said Aubrey Plaza was flirting with you, you told me it was just business. But suddenly, Emilia is something that bothers you!"

"God, this is so different from Aubrey!" she retorts in irritation, finally naked, before stepping into the shower. You were beginning to find it hard to remember why you were fighting now that you had the view of her wet silhouette in the shower stall, as she raised her voice to be heard beyond the sound of the water. "We were supposed to be flirting in the interviews, it was all for the movie. You were just falling all over Emilia for no reason. All those smiles and giggles." She declares angrily, making you bite back a smile. Lizzie naked, angry and jealous was hot as hell.

"I really can't believe we are having this conversation." You complain as you unbutton your pajama shirt. "The most absurd part of it all is you thinking I would have anything with anyone else."

"You say these things but don't live up to them with your actions." She retorts, annoyed. "I wouldn't think anything of it if you didn't flirt with other people!"

"I didn't flirt with anyone!" You return defensively, your blouse finally coming off. Lizzie's annoyed expression almost falters, but she keeps her gaze above your breasts as you take off your pants. "And honestly, none of this would be happening if everyone knew we were dating!"

Lizzie frowns, her anger finally dissipating with your sentence. You step into the shower stall with her, and she looks at you dubiously.

"You...you want to go public?" She asks, studying you as the water falls on her back. You swallow dryly, keeping yourself in front of her.

"Only if you want to."

Lizzie holds out her hand for you to take, and when you do, she pulls you gently until your breasts are almost touching.

"Do you think we're ready for that?" She whispers as your foreheads lean against each other. You sigh as you rest your hands on her waist.

"With you, I'm ready for anything, Lizzie."

She sighs against your lips, her hands moving up to your neck.

"I can't think about that with you naked in front of me." She mumbles before moving forward against his lips.

Kissing shouldn't feel this good.

You slide your tongue over hers a moment later, and you both sigh in need, feeling the effects of so much time apart. Your hands move down to her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing her against you, and the direct contact of exposed skin makes Lizzie whimper.

You press her against the glass of the shower stall, feeling the shower water against your back as you hold your mouths together in a passionate, hungry kiss.

When air was needed, you ran your kisses down your girlfriend's exposed collarbone, enjoying the way she sighed in anticipation, her hand moving up to the back of your neck to encourage you.

"God, I missed you." You sighed before sucking on the sensitive spot on her collarbone, making Lizzie whimper as she dug her nails into your shoulder.

She pulled your face back to hers, kissing you urgently, and you pressed your body against hers, your hands moving down to her thighs and up so that she entwined her legs around your waist.

The contact of your exposed intimates together made you both gasp in the kiss, but you slid your tongue against hers again, savoring her taste as your hands moved up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them with a full palm, your fingers playing with her hardened nipples and making Lizzie sigh wetly.

"What is it baby?" you teased when she was unable to keep up the pace of the kiss, throwing her head back as she felt your hands pressing her breasts hard, and Lizzie grunted as she bit her lips to keep from moaning, looking up at you with dark eyes, clearly struggling to keep her expression impassive. You smiled, pressing your hips forward and watching her close her eyes tightly, unable to contain a low moan that escaped her throat. "I want to hear you, baby."

"I'm still mad at you." She declares in an affected voice, and you murmur in understanding, lowering your face to her collarbone, and licking and kissing the skin, making her shiver.

"Is this angry sex, then?" You sneer as you move your hips forward again, the sensation bringing a rising wave of pleasure to both of you. "It doesn't seem like it."

Lizzie sighs impatiently, and puts her legs on the floor, pushing you away by your shoulder.

You are so stunned by the sudden break in contact that you barely have time to absorb her turning off the shower before she pulls you by the hand out of the stall.

You were about to ask what she was going to do, but she pushed you onto the bed, and disappeared into the closet.

"Lizzie?" You called out uncertainty, preparing your apology speech for what exactly you couldn't say. But she walked out next, and the sight made your mouth go dry. "Damn."

Elizabeth was wearing a strap-on, the rubber penis already fitted in the front and ready for use. And from the determined expression on her face, she was more than willing to prove to you that she was pissed.

"Fuck me." You breathed aroused by the view, and Lizzie gave a wry chuckle as she approached the bed.

"Oh, I will." It was her only warning before she broke the distance, kissing you fervently, her tongue exploring your mouth and pulling the air from your lungs, making you see stars.

You let out a low moan, moving your hands up to her waist to pull her to you, but Lizzie pushed your hands away, breaking the kiss and moving one hand up to your neck, squeezing lightly as she made you look at her.

"Knees, ass up." She commanded in a husky voice, her gaze glittering with lust, you bit your lips to keep from moaning again, feeling your pussy pulsate with desire as you obeyed, turning on the bed quickly as Lizzie positioned herself behind you. "I'll teach you not to flirt with other girls."

"I was n-fuck." Your speech turned into an horsy whimper as she suddenly penetrated you with the dildo, you were so wet that she had no problem at all, the toy slipping into your folds with ease, filling you completely. Lizzie chuckled breathlessly, her hands steadying your hips.

"God, you're so hot." She murmured, moving slowly inside you, the action making you clench your fists in the sheets and arch your back, your pussy clenching against the dildo.

"Fuck, Lizzie."

She thrust again, this time hard, her hands squeezing your hips as she went deep inside, making you moan loudly.

Before establishing a rhythm, she leaned against you, her hand coming up to your hair and pulling you back as she brought her mouth to your ear.

"You are mine." She whispered before she thrust hard inside you, making you moan. "Do you understand?"

"Not quite yet, try harder." You teased breathlessly, the pleasure at having the dildo all the way inside you making you half dizzy. Lizzie grunted angrily, this time stroking even harder, making you see stars as you whimpered, your body beginning to tremble.

"Quit being a brat or I'm going to fucking stop." She warned against your ear, thrusting more slowly this time, and you moaned breathlessly, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Lizzie set a slow pace, but thrusting hard as you moaned and whimpered, every time the dildo entered you making you even wetter and aroused, to the point that you were unable to hold back the loud moans, and she giggled.

"Look at you, a horny, begging mess." She sneered against your ear. "You are mine, and only mine."

She whispered, her strokes deep inside you. "I want you to remember that when you flirt with other girls. How good I make you feel."

You whimpered, your pussy clenching against the dildo for more, Lizzie keeping the strokes torturously slow. Seeing your state, she laughed softly, pulling out of you completely.

Before you had time to complain, she turned you over on the bed, spreading your legs as she bent down, thrusting deep inside you. Your moan died against her lips as she kissed you hard, laying against you as she buried the dildo inside you.

You could feel Lizzie everywhere. Her breasts against you, her lips on yours, and it was too much. She thrust hard again, deep and fast as you had your legs around her waist, and her tongue on yours, and you began to tremble in spasms, pleasure spreading throughout your body.

Lizzie smiled against your lips as you lost the ability to respond to the kiss, moaning and whimpering at the closeness of your climax. Her mouth moved down to your neck as she kept up the pace of the thrusts inside you, and your hands tightened around her waist, pulling on her hips for more friction.

It wasn't long before you fell over the edge, the tightness under your belly exploding, the pleasure spreading to the tips of your feet as you moaned against Lizzie's ear, crumbling under her.

As you tried to normalize your breathing after such an intense orgasm, she straightened to look at you, her eyes had adoration in them.

"You did so good." She praised against your lips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"I did." You replied in a husky voice, taking a deep breath to control the effects of climax.

In one swift motion, you spun you two around on the bed, sighing as you felt the toy move inside you.

"Now you will learn to honor your appointments, Miss Olsen." You warned as your hands moved down to the latches of the strap, removing it as Lizzie bit her lips, looking at you with a mischievous gaze.

You shifted to remove the strap and toss the toy on the floor, returning to sit on Lizzie's lap, your mouth returning to hers immediately.

When she began to move beneath you, you smiled against her lips, pulling away as you rested your forehead against hers and let your fingers play with her wet entrance.

"Use your mouth." She asked breathlessly, her nails digging into your arm.

"My baby wants my mouth?" You teased, moving forward to lick her lips and pulling away with a short laugh when she moaned as she chased your mouth unsuccessfully. You circled her clitoris with your fingers, and Lizzie gasped. "The next time you want to get drunk, at least text me, my love." You warned as you penetrated her with two fingers at once, feeling her hot and slippery, while Lizzie moaned loudly against your mouth. "Do you understand?"

You removed your fingers, playing with her entrance until she nodded frantically, pushing her hips toward your hand. But you laughed lightly, pulling your hand away completely, and leaving her with a confused expression.

"I thought you wanted my mouth." You scoff, already ducking, as Lizzie looks at you expectantly.

"God, you always fuck me so good." Lizzie comments as you kiss her thighs, moving down. You smile against her skin, finally reaching her pussy.

You stare at her before moving forward, your tongue against her clitoris as she sighs with need.

"Don't torture me." She begs breathlessly, her wrists locked on the bed, you smile, lingeringly licking her, and she closes her eyes tightly.

"I won't, my love." You assure her before returning your mouth to her pussy, kissing her entrance before you begin to suck and lick, devouring her with desire.

She moans loudly, letting out affected sighs with each movement of your tongue inside her, and you hold her thighs to keep her open for you as you eat her out.

It doesn't take long for Lizzie to reach her edge, already near the limit from fucking you, but it's still delicious to have her crumbling against your mouth like a weeping mess, her orgasm on your tongue as she screams your name.

You climb your body back up onto her, and kiss her tenderly, unlike anything so far.

Lizzie is trying to control her breathing from the climax, but sighs in satisfaction as she tastes herself on your tongue.

As silence falls over you, you sigh lightly, your hands caressing her face.

"Are we okay, Lizzie?" You ask as you settle down to lie across from each other. She leans into the touch of your hands, as her hands come up to your waist.

"I don't know." She confesses. "But I want us to be."

You smile, using your finger to take a strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

"Do you think going public will make us better?"

"I don't want to love you in secret anymore." She says and you feel your heart soar. "Do you understand?"

You smile. "Yes, babe. I feel the same way."

She gives a relieved smile, her gaze passionate. You break the distance, and kiss her gently.

When you break the kiss a moment later, you look quickly at your bodies. "I think we should have this conversation with clothes on." You comment and Lizzie giggles.

"Later. Now I show how much I missed you in my bed." She says before bringing your lips together again.

You certainly wouldn't object to that.

//-//-//

Atlanta, three years ago.

You hesitated at the entrance to the restaurant.

Through the window you could see Lizzie, and all your cast mates, as it was the closing celebration of the WandaVision filming.

You swallowed hard, the object in your pocket suddenly becoming too heavy.

You startled slightly when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"I guess we're both late, huh?" Kathryn Hahn, your cast mate, remarked gently, putting her car keys away in her pocket clearly having arrived right with you.

You gave her a lopsided smile and she noticed your hesitation, assuming a worried expression.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

You shifted your gaze to the window again, watching Lizzie giggle shyly, her gaze shining slightly. She looked around too, searching, and you knew it was for you.

"Yeah, I just...I was just having a moment of doubt." You say still looking at Lizzie. Kathryn followed your gaze, and smiled, but didn't comment on it.

You sighed, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the object.

"Wow, are you going to...?" Kathryn asked in surprise but you gave a humorless laugh.

"No, I couldn't." You say swallowing dryly, and looking away from the velvet box. "I don't know if I'm ready."

"And when either of us are?" Kat returned, making you smile.

"How did you know you were going to say yes to your husband?" You asked next. Kathryn sighed thoughtfully.

"I didn't." She replied. "There's no way to know until you get asked. But what I did know was that I loved him. And that's what really matters."

You absorbed her words in silence, and then put the box back in your pocket.

"I think she loves me." You say. "That will be enough until I find the right moment."

Kat murmurs in understanding, and then pushes her shoulder against yours lightly.

"Just don't wait too long." She warns with a smile, nodding her head signaling for the two of you to enter the restaurant and join the rest of the team.

When you enter, any thoughts of Lizzie denying your marriage proposal are driven out by the image of her contented smile when she sees you arrive.

//-//-//-//

A/F/N> I'm not even gonna try to say this is the last time i'm continuing this work because at this point, I just know I don't believe my own words anymore haha. Tell me what you think people.

Tag> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

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