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#it feels to help people or even to just brightened up their day
scarlethexelove · 2 days
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Please do part 4 of why, it’s amazing, I need more!!
Forever Mine
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Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Word count: 2382
Warnings: Pregnant!Reader, Smut, Strap-On, Cum Strap, Soft!Agatha, Possessive!Agatha, Overstimulation, Marking, Not much else
Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3
A/n: Hopefully this is good. I'm not sure if I'm going to go much further than this. This story has gone a lot further than I had ever expect. I'm glad people like it though.
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN
The car pulls into the driveway. You and your mom have just gotten back from your latest doctor's appointment. You’re still terrified to be a mother but seeing your little girl on the sonogram has you knowing that you are doing the right thing. Even though she came about in a way that has hurt you deeply you still can’t wait to meet her. 
You can see Agatha working out in her yard planting flowers. Her eyes trained on the car as it pulled up. Her gaze falls to you as you open the car door. A small smile on her face as she sees your swollen stomach, carrying her child. But her face soon falls when you don’t even bat an eye at her struggling to get out of the car. “Hold on sweetheart.” Wanda gets out of the car and circles it to your side. She helps you get out of the car. 
“How are you doing Y/n?” Agatha’s voice is heard as you turn your head looking at her. You hadn’t even noticed that she had come up to the fence separating your respective yards. You roll your eyes and start making your way to the house missing the hurt look on Agatha’s face. “Sweetheart.” Wanda calls out to you before you make it too far away. “What Mom?” Your words are a little harsher than you meant. “Don’t take that tone with me Y/n.” Wanda scolds you. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to.” Wanda walks over towards you and gently strokes your shoulders. “It’s ok sweetheart, but maybe you should just hear Agatha out.” Your brows furrow at your Moms words. “Why should I? Why are you taking her side? You of all people shouldn’t trust her.” You can’t help but feel slightly hurt by her words. Your Mom shakes her head. “I know your hurt sweetheart but she is the Mother of your baby. There is more at work in the universe that you just don’t know yet.” 
Wanda had never told you about the rest of the conversation that she had with Agatha that day. She said she would but she eventually told you that you should talk to Agatha but you refuse to. Wanda may not like Agatha but after looking more into her words she knows that she is right. So she tries to get you just to talk to the woman. She knows that she will never get rid of the woman and it is better to be civil with her than to continue to fight. They had come to an agreement soon after the confrontation. 
You let out a long sigh before nodding your head. Wanda kisses your head before you walk over to Agatha. Her face brightens up as you walk around into her yard. For a woman who is typically so strong and just exudes power to see her much more reserved is strange. A softer side being shown to you that you would have never expected. 
“Hi.” Agatha says to you as you come to a stop in front of her, her eyes dragging over your body. You give a small smile. “Agatha.” She holds out her hand for you. “Let's go inside.” You don’t take her hand just walking past her towards the front door. The older woman lets her hand drop before she rushes after you. She gets in front of you and opens the door for you. You thank her before heading inside.
Memories of that night play in your head as you look around the room. You can’t help the feeling growing in your lower stomach but you try to push it away. A longing for the woman, a pull to her you just can’t explain. But you ignore it and make your way to her couch and sit down. Agatha follows shortly and sits down next to you. The room is silent, thick with tension. You fidget with your hands in front of your stomach looking down. It is hard to find the words to say. Anxiety bubbling deep inside of you. Agatha doesn’t say anything just waiting for you, not wanting to push you before you are ready. 
“Why?” You look up at her, your eyes shining with tears. “I trusted you and you used me and for what.” Agatha sits for a moment mulling over the words she wants to tell you. “I… Y/n I do care for you.” You chuckle at her words. “That doesn’t answer my question, Agatha. You want to talk then fucking talk to me then or I’m just going to go home.” Agatha shakes her head. “No wait. I can explain.” You sigh waiting for her to continue. “The universe wanted us together. I wanted you. I went about all of this all wrong but how was I supposed to tell you that you were destined to carry my child.” Agatha tells you. You're baffled by her words, what does she mean, destined to carry her child. “I don’t understand.” You say. “The darkhold talks of a prophecy. A descendant of the Scarlet Witch… your mother with no power and a witch of ancient power will create a child that will save the multiverse. An unbreakable bond tying us together.”
It takes you time to mull over her words. Your daughter is going to save the multiverse. You're somehow bonded now to Agatha. It makes sense on how you keep feeling a pull towards the woman no matter how much you have wanted to ignore her and to never speak to her again. But you can’t deny the undeniable desire to be closer to her. It has been hard on you and it all now makes sense. 
“Aggie, why didn’t you just talk to me?” You ask her. She smiles when hearing the nickname. You have only been calling her by her full name so it makes her more confident that she is getting to you. “Would you have said yes if I did?” She questions a brow raised in question. “I don’t know.” You say honestly. She has a point. You're young and didn’t expect to already be having a kid. You love your daughter so much already but you are scared you aren’t ready. “I took the initiative. I accept that you hate me for it but I did what I thought was right.” You sigh and close your eyes. Soon opening them back up and looking into her eyes. “I don’t hate you Aggie. I was just hurt.” 
Agatha cups your cheek in her hand rubbing her thumb against your cheek. You can’t help but nuzzle lightly into her hand. A comfort you have missed and craved. She leans in and kisses you softly. Pouring all of the love she holds for you into the kiss. A kiss that soon becomes more heated. Her hand moving down your sides and gripping your hips. A moan escaping your lips when her tongue pushes into your mouth. Her hands are gripping your hips, harsher a heated makeout session causing you to become needy. When you two are forced to part you lean your forehead against hers. Your breaths mingling in the air between you two. “Take me to bed.” You mumble. 
Agatha lifts you into her arms making you squeak and wrap your arms around her neck as she carries you bridal style. She chuckles pecking your lips as she walks you back to her bedroom. She kicks open the door causing you to chuckle. She gently lays you on the bed in a stack of pillows. She crawls on the bed hovering over you with a smile on your face. “Are you comfortable princess?” You nod your head reaching out for her but she sits up out of your reach which causes you to whine. “Patients.”
You sit up on the bed still trying to reach out for her. Anticipation and need for the women bubbling over. Agatha pushes you gently back down a smirk playing on her lips. “I know princess. You’re so needy for me. Bet you haven’t had a good orgasm since I fucked you dumb.” You can’t help but moan and squirm. “Aggie.” You whine. “Don’t worry princess I’m going to fuck you so good.” Agatha now exudes that knowing powerful energy, the one that you fell for. You loved seeing the softer side for you but this side is so hot. 
All of your clothes disappear with a wave of Agatha’s hand, your nipples hardening at the cold air. You bite your lip looking at her naked form a dark purple strap secured around her waist. She parts your tights, your arousal coating your thighs which makes her groan. “So fucking wet for me and I haven’t even touched you yet. Are you going to be my good little whore why fuck that needy pussy of yours.” You nod your head reaching out for her again. This time she lets you pull her closer. The strap bumping against your clit, her lips attaching themselves to your neck. She nips and sucks leaving behind reddish purple marks. 
“You’re mine. Forever mine princess.” Agatha mumbles against your skin. Her hand groping your breast and pinching your hardened peaks. You grind your hips against hers as the strap continues to bump against your clit. Making you more needy for her. “Please Aggie, I need you.” You plead with her. She moves her hand down to her strap, swiping it through your folds causing both of you to moan. Lining her strap with your entrance before slowly sinking further into your heat. 
Your walls stretch to accommodate Agatha’s thick strap. A deliciously painful stretch the further she sinks in until she is fully sheathed in you. She waits for you to accommodate her size not wanting to hurt you. Your hips start to grind into hers letting her know that you are ready. “I’m going to fill this needy little pussy. So full of my cum you will be leaking.” Your eyes widen a little but that just makes Agatha have a sinister smirk. “Oh princess, did you forget you're already carrying my child? I can pump you as much of my cum as I want.” She thrusts her hips into you at a steady pace. 
Moans fall from your lips as Agatha fucks herself into you. “Fuck please fill me. W-want your cum.” This causes Agatha to moan. Hearing her moan causes your walls to squeeze her strap which only makes her moan more. Being able to feel your walls tighten around her strap as she fucks into you. Her hips speeding up chasing both of your orgasms. “Don’t worry princess. I’ll make you my cute little cum dump.” 
You grind your hips to meet her thrusts. Agatha’s hand snakes between your bodies slipping her hand between your legs. She leans back down wrapping her lips around your perk nipple. She rakes her teeth over your nipple before sucking. You moan, hands moving to grip at her back, and you dig your nails in. You can feel her everywhere overwhelming your senses, your only thoughts are of Agatha. “Fuck these tits, can’t wait till their full of milk. Gonna suck you dry.” She mumbles around your nipple sucking harshly. Your nails raking down her back as your hips back into her. 
Agatha circles your clit faster as you grow closer to your orgasm. Feeling your walls squeeze her tighter. Your legs slightly shake the closer you grow. Her hips become more erratic as her knot grows. Her mouth moves to your other nipple giving it the same attention. You leave red angry lines down her back as you grow closer. “W-wanna cum.” You manage to say through moans. Agatha smirks against your nipple as she keeps thrusting into your sloshing cunt. Her finger pressing into your clit. “Cum with me princess.” She mumbles around your nipple about ready to burst herself. 
You don’t hesitate when she tells you to cum. Your walls tighten and back arches lightly. Your cum coating her strap as your orgasm washes over you. Agatha isn’t far behind you as her hips stutter and she cums painting your walls white. But her ministrations don’t stop. She continues to pull orgasm after orgasm from your body until you're overly sensitive. Hips finally come to a stop before pulling out gently. You whimper from sensitivity and emptiness. “Sorry princess.” Agatha apologizes seeing your reaction. She watches as cum leaks out of your abused hole just as she had said she would do to you. Mesmerized by your quivering hole desperate to keep her cum inside.  
“So beautiful.” Agatha whispers into the air, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. She lays down next to you pulling you into her side. You cuddle into her and lay your head on her chest. Agatha waves her hand cleaning both of your bodies except for the cum leaking out of you. You look up at her confused and see a smirk. “Want you to stay full of my cum princess.” She kisses your lips. You're too tired to argue with her but you also love the feeling. So you settle in closing your eyes. 
Agatha’s voice breaks the silence. “I love you.” She whispers, you almost didn’t hear it. You look back up at her, your chin on her chest. “What?” You can’t hide the confusion with a tinge of hope in your voice. “Y/n Maximoff I love you.” You gasp. “I love you too.” You lean up kissing her. Your mind and body giving up to the undeniable bond that has formed. You lean back and get comfortable. Agatha gently caresses stomach and smiles. “I can’t wait to meet your little girl.” You smile at her returned softness. “Me too.” 
You finally feel ready to have your daughter knowing that Agatha will be by your side now. Things didn’t start the way you had expected but you know now that this was the way it had to be. You place your hand on top of hers, love swelling in your heart. The little family of yours falling right into place. With a smile on your face you let yourself drift off to sleep.
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lunart-06 · 3 months
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Would it be funny if Makoto, despite being a huge image of hope for humanity- literal symbol OF humanity- to have like... at least, a few haters (a "few" in the most famous and important people standards).
Like the whole "tragedy" itself isn't just about how the world was breaking eachother and causing wars and destruction driven by despair, it's also those minor conveniences to the people where they experience their own sets of betrayals from their loved ones or those whom they trusted the most in such a traumatic event in history.
And these sets of small, personal heartbreaking experiences, can you blame them that they have a moment of doubt to Makoto's true intention? Whose to say that he's any better than Junko?
People who praises and worship him, and people who doubts and critisized him. Yet none sees him as that normal guy that trips on his shoes when running across the neighborhood to get to school (perhaps there are a few that recognised him.. just maybe. Or those who does had died or went missing? Who knows).
Makoto being the public controversial is something. How will it affect him when they accused him (again, just like in those class trials) on the things he didn't even do ("a knife I never wanted, I'm just holding it" kinda quote). Would it be funny if no matter where he go he'd always going to be accused of something, or painted in a bad light by a few, merely because he was being too nice that it seems suspicious to them?
Would it be funny that no matter what he can't seem to reach some people's expectations at all, but he never gave up or letting it get to him because he has people who also supports him and have his back no matter what but that just makes him wanted to try harder to meet at least THEIR expectations of him? I think it'd be funny /lh.
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ PARTNERS — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo, established relationship, you and suguru are partnered for a project instead of satoru…and he doesn’t take the news lightly, dramatic toru and INSTIGATOR suguru
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satoru is sulking—you’d find it a little amusing any other day, but he seems a bit more upset than usual. and quite frankly, suguru isn’t really helping things out either, so you feel just a little bad.
“baby,” you poke his cheek, “it’s not our fault! we just got randomly assigned—”
“whatever,” he huffs. you tug at his arm, but he pulls it away.
it just so happens that the three of you seem to share a class this semester—but unfortunately, suguru is assigned as your partner for a project. it’s the same project satoru wanted to be paired with you for. he seems convinced it’ll be you and him that are called—which, in all honesty, the likelihood of being paired with you out of the multiple people in the class is low, but it’s only added insult to injury that suguru had the odds in his favor.
satoru is not handling it well.
“toru,” you insist, pinching his cheek in hopes to cheer him up. he scowls at you—as if this is your fault, “c’mon, cheer up! now that it’s suguru, you can just tag along when we work—”
“tag along?” he cuts you off, tone bordering on hurt, “so now i’m the third wheel?”
oh dear.
“n-no!” you say quickly—suguru has the audacity to snicker, earning a warning glance from you, “you’re never the third wheel, toru. you’re the first wheel! the only wheel. really!”
“y’know,” suguru starts—you already know whatever he’s about to say is going to make things ten times worse. you try (and fail) to glare at him until he’s silent. “if i recall, the two of you got together through a project, didn’t you? who knows, maybe you’ll have the biggest crush on me after this is over.”
suguru drops the bomb and winks. you look at him like you want to kill him. satoru’s face is devastated.
you think this might be the end.
“what?” satoru gasps, turning to you quickly, “tell him that’s impossible, tell him! tell him he’s hideous and that you only have eyes for me—”
“toru, of course i only have eyes for you, don’t listen to him, he’s just pushing your buttons—”
“hey, you never know. i might charm you,” suguru adds fuel to the fire—this time, you throw your water bottle at him. he catches it with ease, throwing you a smug grin that makes you scowl deeper.
“you’re hideous, suguru,” satoru spits, “no way anyone would leave me for you—”
“that already happened. remember your girlfriend in middle school?”
“that doesn’t count! we were too young to know what love was back then!”
satoru is practically inconsolable now—you consider dropping out of this class just for the sake of peace. maybe you can take it over the summer and be paired with a random stranger that won’t bother your dramatic boyfriend. maybe you can evade the project altogether with a different professor. maybe you can kill suguru and the misfortune of a dead partner can grant you an automatic exemption from this assignment.
you weigh your options as satoru slumps with a pout.
“whatever,” he grumbles, “i don’t even care. have fun without me.”
suguru chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. you sigh before cupping satoru’s cheeks and giving him a small kiss to his forehead to cheer him up.
not surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to work.
“cheer up, baby,” you reason, “at least since it’s just suguru, you won’t have to leave us alone to work! it won’t be awkward if you’re there too.”
“but you’ll be too busy working with suguru to talk to me,” he says bitterly.
“at least i’ll have a handsome face to keep me motivated,” you grin, kissing his jaw—now that…that seems to cheer him up considerably. he brightens, plastering that usual smug grin he sports, as if the world around him wasn’t ending just moments ago.
“i am handsome, aren’t i?” he hums, wrapping an arm around you—mission accomplished, you think happily.
“yeah,” you nod quickly, “and suguru is hideous anyway. i’d never leave you for someone with a tacky man bun—”
“hey, leave my hair out of this—”
“it is pretty tacky,” satoru nods and agrees.
suguru crosses his arms, glaring at the both of you before he opens his mouth to retaliate. you cut in before he can say anything else to worsen satoru’s mood any further.
“and maybe you can help me—you’re smarter than suguru too.”
“he is not—”
“you’re right baby,” satoru hums, “maybe this is for the best. i’ll save both of your grades this way.”
suguru’s vein all but pops. “we don’t need your help—”
“don’t worry suguru,” satoru grins confidently, pointing to himself with his thumb, “i’ll save your grade. no need to thank me—ow!”
you watch tiredly as suguru throws your water bottle at satoru’s head—it’s going to be a long project.
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i already know the switch boy! au people are gonna start the “suguru definitely wants reader” comments. i’m waiting for them i can sense them already
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hxney-lemcn · 13 days
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I Love You~ — NRC Students x gn! reader
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summary: How Twisted Wonderland boys react to you saying "I love you."
tw: stalking (Rook), slight angst for some, mainly fluff.
a/n: this is the most I've written for for so many characters. I hope I did them well, I even wrote for characters I'm not confident in. Also, I swear they don't all just say I love you too back, Heartslabyul boys are just too sweet not not (for the most part).
wc: 4.5k (~200 each character)
Master List
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Your feelings had been building up over time. It got to the point that it felt like all your feelings were bubbling over. It was only sooner or later that the depth of your love was going to spill. You only hoped that it wouldn’t scare him away.
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Riddle Rosehearts
It wasn’t the first time you said those damn words that sent his heart into cardiac arrest. ‘Love you,’ You would chime playfully as he seemed near to scolding you for something or another. He hated to admit how effective those words were on him, it didn’t help how you said it so casually. Yet this time was different, your tone being nothing but soft, your eyes nothing but warm…he wasn’t prepared for this. Avoiding your loving gaze, Riddle could feel his brain melt, his tongue felt like lead, and his heart was beating erratically. When your gaze turned worried, shying away the longer he stayed silent, he somehow gathered the courage to respond.
“I-I love you too.”
Trey Clover
It was no secret how much you both cared for each other. You both seemed like a married couple to the other students. You never really needed to say anything out loud because your love was shown through actions, the way you both smiled at each other, and how the other was always on the mind. Yet hearing you say those words out loud shocked him. What shocked him even more was how much he longed to hear you say it again, and again, and again. It didn’t take long for him to regain his composure, smile brightening as he didn’t even hesitate to respond.
“I love you too~”
Cater Diamond
He always hid behind a smile and a flash of his camera. People would say his care for you only ran skin deep, but you knew otherwise. You had managed to wiggle your way through Cater’s walls and that scared him, but it also brought a sense of relief. His compliments towards you were genuine, showing you just how much his fans loved you (an extension of his own love). He’d always say he loved you playfully, sending a wink your way making you nearly combust…and you’d respond in kind (unknowingly doing the same to him). So when you said those three simple words, your tired eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into his blankets, he felt like he was going to puke. He felt like a complete coward that he could only reply back after you had fallen asleep, vowing to show you just how much he cared the next day.
“I love you more than you know.”
Deuce Spades
We all know that Deuce isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, yet you found that endearing. The way he showed his care for you was so obvious it was hard to ignore. How he clearly favored you over Ace, sending threatening glares to any student who dares to look at you the wrong way. You had never felt safer than when you were with Deuce, so you’d try to reciprocate…yet he always seemed to outshine you in your made up care competition. Yet you quickly found his weakness after he shied away after you hugged him once. So when he did something so endearingly silly, it was only natural for those three words to slip…rip Deuce. He stammered, face blazing red as he tried to wrap around what you said, trying to untangle any hidden meanings. Bashfully, he couldn’t meet your eyes as he responded.
“I…love you too.”
Ace Trappola
This menace. He flexes all the time, claiming how you must love him with the way you follow him like a puppy. Yeah…he makes it hard sometimes. So out of spite you’d go to Deuce, causing Ace to sulk. It was in those moments that you realized he was lowkey (highkey) projecting his feelings onto you. It helped you deal with his unabashed praise for himself. You found yourself teasing Ace back, poking him and irritating him (he did find it annoying but he’d rather your attention be on him then anyone else). He’d show off during his games, always looking towards you and making him a clumsy mess on the court. When you finally muttered how you felt (somewhat bitterly) Ace felt his brain shut down for a second before quickly rebooting, a shaky smirk on his face with bright red cheeks as he replied. 
“Of course you do! Who wouldn’t- OW! Okay, okay, I l-like you too I guess.”
(bro couldn’t even say love you back 💀)
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Leona Kingscholar
To anyone who didn’t know him, they’d think he was indifferent to you, if not annoyed by you. Yet to your and Ruggie’s keen eyes it was easy to see his affection for you crack through his impervious exterior. How he’d drag you with him for his constant naps, how he’d let you play with his hair, and how he’d glare at anyone who seemed to get a little too friendly with you. Leona didn’t like being vulnerable, after all, showing your belly meant submission and death. So when you said those three words he’d dreamt of you saying, how lovingly you were staring at him as you fiddled with one of his braids, he felt his scowl worsen at the fluttery feeling in his chest. His green eyes glanced away, his face softening back into a neutral expression.
“I better be the only one you say that to, herbivore.”
Ruggie Bucchi
He’s another one that people can’t tell if he likes you or is using you. Whenever you were seen with him you were helping him with chores (in reality you only helped him so you both could relax together afterwards). It was clear how much you cared for him, bringing him snacks, helping him with chores, offering to pay for his meals (rip your already bare wallet). In return, he’d share with you. A feat that no one had ever seen him do before. Ruggie never felt guilty for taking/getting food…that was until you never seemed annoyed by how much he took from you. So he felt it was only fair if you had some too…you did pay for it after all. He found his tail wagging when you smiled at him, hugging him, or even when you ruffled his hair. So when you said that! Those words he never expected to be uttered from your lips, let alone aimed at him, his tail just couldn’t stop moving! No matter how composed he seemed, it was like his brain was on fire (insert that spongebob clip).
“Shishishi, I suppose I might feel the same…the price for that information is the other half of your donut. Shishi.”
Jack Howl
This guy. Definition of tsundere. Acts like he wants nothing to do with you while sticking by your side for as long as he can. The nice thing is that he helps you become more healthy. He never forces you, but you feel more inclined to join him in his ‘morning’ jogs (his morning jog is way too early for you so it's technically his second jog of the day and he calls it his wind down jog). Everyone can tell how he feels for you, it's clear in the way his eyes are always searching for your comfort, how he steps in when someone gets too pushy, or when his tail sways when all your attention is on him. Another guy you feel super safe with. The two of you were studying when you said it, atmosphere warm. Jack’s ear twitched, unsure if he heard you correctly, eyes searching yours for confirmation. When you gave no indication that you were joking or being silly, it felt like his heart flipped.
“I…care about you…as well.”
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Azul Ashengrotto
He is sneakily unseaky about his feelings. One moment he’s treating you like an actual valued guest with no hidden intentions (😒) and the next he’s lowkey (highkey) flexing on you. Mixed signals because you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make you feel bad about yourself or if he’s trying to make himself look better to you. “Oh don’t worry, this won’t put a dent in my pockets,” He’d say with a smug smirk (you’re lowkey side-eyeing him). One time you poked him to see how’d he react and it was super amusing. Ran away with the brightest blush you’d ever seen claiming he had work to do…yeah…right. When you realized he is in fact trying to impress you (and realized it was really fun to tease him with affection), you became more comfortable around him, looking forward to the next time you could visit the Mostro Lounge. It got to the point that Jade would just bring you to the VIP room (if Azul wasn’t busy swindling a poor soul). When you spoke those words it came out of seemingly nowhere, Azul spilling ink all over a contract he just finished writing. He was so close to darting out of the room, face ablaze, hands trembling. Do you know just how powerful those words are? 
“P-perhaps…d-do you…I-I think…” (You broke him, don’t worry he just needs time to collect himself. He loves you too 💖)
Jade Leech
Rip. It kinda takes a lot to catch his eye (do you even want that?). He found it amusing how kind you were, you wouldn’t make it for a second in the deep (k…). Yet what really caught his eye was that you were a green thumb. How you recognized one of his mushrooms and the gleam in your eyes as you stated all you knew about it (not much, but more than anyone else he’s met). Now you have a scary eel that pops up every now and then. Jade only cared about mushrooms, but now on his hikes he’d spot a plant you liked (every now and then bringing it back for you). Downside, you now had Floyd’s attention as well. I mean c’mon, his brother finding interest in someone? He just had to check the guppy out…thankfully Jade stopped him from squeezing you (a true testament of his care for you). The words spilled out of you when Jade had offered to…’help’...with a certain…’problem’ of yours (an annoying student who wouldn’t leave you alone). A look of pure shock washed over his face before it quickly turned into a cunning grin, something that sent the hairs on your arms to raise. 
“My my, what a bold statement. Please, treat me gently would you?~” (He did not forget about your ‘problem’)
Floyd Leech
Rip #2. You know he cares (sometimes) when he stops calling you guppy (sometimes he does it just to annoy someone cough Riddle cough). Your case was a mix of both. One time when Floyd wouldn’t stop poking your cheeks you poked his nose with a ‘boop’, and he had deemed you boops. Also wouldn’t stop booping you back after that. He is not ashamed at all. He’d squeeze you, drape over you, pick you up, poke you, nearly kill you. The usual. You always would pretend to be annoyed (although sometimes that annoyance was very real) and Floyd always found your reactions hilarious. Although he had his bad moods, 6/10 times he’d feel better when you booped him. Jade would tease him, Azul would ask you over to the Mostro Lounge more often, even Riddle would avoid you (because where you were Floyd had to be nearby). When he was in a bad mood and you booped him while saying “I love you~”, Floyd froze. Sharp eyes watching your every move like the predator he is, a wide grin revealing his sharp teeth. 
“Awwww, I love ya too Boops! Now lemme squeeze ya!” 
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Kalim Al-Asim
Where do I even start? He’s loving on you the moment he sees you. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, it's all normal to him. He cares about you so why wouldn’t he show you? Poor Jamil, he was really stressed at first, unsure what your intentions were. So to start, you had to prove yourself to Jamil, Kalim had accepted you the moment his eyes landed on you. The more you hung out, the clearer your affection for Kalim shined, and you two were basically a married couple at this point. It was easy to care for him, reciprocating his affection without hesitation. Idk there's not much to say about him, he’s just a loving and carefree guy. It was when you both were winding down, hanging out with just the other, doing some homework (one of the ways you proved yourself to Jamil). Your dreary eyes watched as Kalim swayed in place, his eyes soon meeting yours. His beaming smile had all your defenses down, words falling out without you realizing it. It wasn’t until Kalim jumped at you, squeezing you tightly, face nuzzling into your neck.
“I love you too! We should get married!”
(😅)
Jamil Viper
It’s admirable that you managed to break down Jamil’s walls. He was even more surprised at how your attention would always seem to land on him instead of his insufferable prince. No matter how much Kalim basically begged for your attention, your eyes would always drift to Jamil, a warm smile on your lips when your eyes met. He showed his affection for you in how he looked after you. He had grown up taking care of someone, and although he found himself hating Kalim for his position, for Jamil’s spot in the world, he found himself enjoying caring for you. He loved how your eyes lit up when he offered you lunch, he had made too much anyways (riggggghhhht…), he felt his heart flip when you offered to help clean up or when you offered to help braid his hair. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that you truly cared for him and had no ulterior motives. His heart beat erratically when you said those words, when you looked only at him so lovingly, how your hand caressed his cheek so tenderly. It was all so overwhelming and he pulled away, pulling his hood up to hide his blush. His tongue felt heavy and he wasn’t sure if he had the heart to let himself be so vulnerable.
“Let’s continue this later…but rest assured I feel a similar way.”
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Vil Schoenheit
Ohhh boy. Vil, as much as I love him, might be a bit overbearing at first. If anything, you’d feel ashamed about yourself at first. You never seemed to be good enough as Vil would always find something to pick apart about you. You’d eat too many carbs, your uniform was wrinkly, your eyebags seemed to be more pronounced. When you snapped, crying and pleading for him to just stop, that you knew you weren’t beautiful or perfect like him and you didn’t want to hear it anymore, Vil had to rethink how he showed his care. He didn’t say those things because he thought you were ugly or terrible, he only wanted you to better yourself. To become more healthy and to take better care of yourself. Reflecting, he realized just how mean he seemed…enter the spoiling. Instead of nit picking you, he would give you stuff without a word. You found yourself with skin care products made by him (he didn’t want to taint your skin with bad ingredients), he would bring you a balanced lunch (perhaps breakfast and dinner too, if you’d be kind enough to join him), and he’d gift you outfits that complemented your figure perfectly (sometimes he’d have to get them costume made). It was a bit of a shock at the drastic change, but you found yourself doting on him more as well. You both were having dinner together, Vil complaining about his coworkers and you talking about whatever you were into at the moment. When he mentioned something he’d think you’d like you found yourself sweetly telling him you loved him. He was astounded, eyes locked on yours. As much as he tried to be composed, he couldn’t deny the fluttering of his heart or the heat on his cheeks. 
“I love you as well, my sweet potato.”
Rook Hunt
This man 💀. At first you were terrified. Man was literally stalking you. You even went to the professors for help because excuse me? Stalking bad. And as much as Rook took amusement in your actions, he decided to finally get to know you…face to face (he already knew a ton about you). You gave him bombastic side eye when he first was trying to talk to you. He’d pop out of bushes (strangely no leaves stuck in his hair), he’d appear right behind you…one time he seemed to appear from literally nowhere. Against your own will, you warmed up to the freak. When he wasn’t continuously complimenting you, you found him to be funny. Rook is also unashamed about his love for you, he’d shout it from the roof tops if you asked. He also took the fact that you were warm to him as a sign of affection. You didn’t nearly deck him for popping out of the bushes this time? Oh mon chéri, his heart melts that you felt his presence to be so comforting. It felt weird, Rook had complimented you many times, spouting about how much his heart yearns for you. You almost didn’t want to tell him that you loved him, a bit spiteful since you knew how smug he’d look afterwards (you’d never live it down either). Yet when Rook handed you a rose, spieling about how it could never compare to you, you found yourself crumbling. Instead of that smug look you expected, he looked genuinely happy. Green eyes bright and shining, smile so wide you thought it split. Yet that gleam soon looked like that of a predator who finally caught his prey. 
“Mon chéri, my heart weeps with joy, I cannot imagine a world without your brilliance shining. Avoir son cœur est la plus grande récompense.”
Epel Felmier
Epel is a tough nut even if he looks cute. He’d tease you mercilessly (Ace moment) on some days, while most he found himself complaining to you. Vil would work him tirelessly, and he can handle tough work! You’d sneak him candy or some jerky (that was more manly than candy). He found himself always trying to impress you, whether it be carrying something heavy or showing you his grades (he improved from last time okay). He loved how you complimented his strength or his intelligence, but deep down he was scared you saw him as a cute prim boy that Vil was trying to turn him into. If anyone tried anything with you he’s the one you’d go to, making his chest puff in confidence. Of course he’s trying to not fight so Vil won’t punish him, but a stern talking too wasn’t out of the picture. You both were relaxing under a tree. You mindlessly watched Epel as he carved an apple, handing you pieces when they were cut perfectly. Another one who can’t handle it when you say it. Eyes wide, shoulders hunched, face matching the apple he was holding. 
“Ya c-can’t jus’ s-say that! Y-you tryna k-kill me? ‘Tch, you’re lucky I like ya too.”
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Idia Shroud
He’s such a simp. Some days he can barely squeak out a word to you, hiding himself in the comfort of his hoodie, others he’s flexing on you about just how much more he knows about a game than you. When he’s feeling extra generous (trying to get y’alls intimacy meter up to max) he’ll buy you the fancy currency in your favorite gacha game, go on, do as many ten pulls as it takes to get your favorite character up to max level. His favorite moments are when you both are watching an anime together, in the same bed…it makes his heart explode just thinking about it (dudes on the opposite side of the bed 💀). What makes him care for you even more is how you interact with Ortho. You two are his favorite people and seeing how well you both get along just further warms his heart. When you muttered those words to him, he literally screamed. Hoodie up, hiding under his blankets, his hair the brightest pink it’s ever been. He felt light headed and he was sure if he opened his eyes his vision would be spotty.
“G-gah! Your charm is maxed out! It’s n-not fair that you had the special dialogue to insta kill me.”
Ortho Shroud (platonic only obvs)
He is just a little ray of sunshine. He’s the reason why you got so close to Idia in the first place. He’s always on the hunt for any potential friends for him and his brother. You were always sweet to him, doting on him and calling him cute. Ortho honestly thought of you as another sibling (might as well be with how much you hype him up). Ortho would always try to accompany you if he had time, always ‘hinting’ at you to visit his brother (bro is not hinting, straight up just asking). He felt his cpu warm as he processed his happy feelings at watching you and his brother get along, as well as when you always brought Ortho over to join you both. It didn’t take long for you to tell Ortho you loved him, I mean he was just so adorable!
“I’m so happy! I love you too!”
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Malleus Draconia
I hope you're ready to become a royal beside him. He shows he cares with grand gestures (which Lila helps make them smaller gestures). Malleus is used to people fearing him, and the fact that you didn’t? Man was gobsmacked. He shared his interests with you, and you shared yours with him. He would research anything you said that he didn’t understand (it was even better if you were the one teaching him). If you thought your affection was spilling over, Malleus’ was flooding. It turned into him giving you fine jewelry, clothing, flowers, food, you want it, it's yours. He cared for you greatly, and he was unsure how else to show his affection. You gave him a hug? He’d hug you now as a greeting. One time you booped his nose and he went cross eyed following your finger. You’d almost spilled your guts then (I’m surprised you didn’t cus that shit’s adorable). You always confused him with your cute forms of affection, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed impossible for you to keep in your love any longer on a bright, moonlit night. As you stared into the night sky, you spilled those three little words that unknowingly sealed your fate. Malleus felt his heart be set aflame, eyes taking you in. It was then that he finally thought of a perfect ring for you. 
“I love you as well, child of man. More than you could ever imagine.”
Lilia Vanrouge
As silly and carefree as he was, Lilia wasn’t ready to love again. He had his family, and that was all he cared for. So when he found himself messing with you more, missing when you weren’t around, wanting to cook for you (rip #3), he felt scared. Love never went well for him, it was almost like he was cursed, and those he cared for were ripped away from him. Yet you were so sweet, trying his food and trying to give him pointers on how he could improve. The cute scared face you made when he popped out of nowhere. Gosh you made it so easy to love, it was honestly unfair. He was supposed to be the cute one! You can’t go stealing his title! You also found it a struggle to love Lilia. You knew he was older than time itself (💀), and honestly you felt a bit weird for falling for him. I mean, you were so much younger, and he was a fae. It just seemed like a lot, so you kept your feelings to yourself. That was until one night, Lilia was tucking you in since you fell asleep on him, and you muttered those cursed words as you drifted off. He actually avoided you for a few weeks after that, and you felt embarrassed that you slipped. It wasn’t until he could no longer avoid you, missing you too much and having thought it through enough.
“I hope you understand the weight of your words, after all, us fae stay with our partner for life.”
Silver Vanrouge
He is so easy to get along with. He’s always looking out for you, offering you snacks when you're hungry and handing you water when you haven’t drank any yet. While he does find himself dozing off a lot, he appreciates when you try to poke him awake or go over the material he slept through. No one even questions your status, they just assume you're together with how lovey dovey you both act. He’s fallen asleep on your shoulder more times than he can count, his soft hair tickling your neck. He’d apologize when waking up, but you were too entranced by not only his beauty but the cute animals that now surrounded you both. Not to mention the way your heart would pitter patter as he would promise to defend you, his shining eyes showing complete seriousness. You had whispered your love for him when he was sleeping, gently playing with his hair. You thought he wouldn’t hear, but boy were you wrong. His soft eyes blinked open sleepily, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Am I dreaming? I hope I’m not, because I love you too.”
Sebek Zigvolt
Another tsundere ass. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings for you so often I’m surprised your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged from his constant yelling. It was confusing for him because the only other person he felt a somewhat similar feeling towards was Malleus Draconia, and you were nowhere near the level of the future king of Briar Valley. He’d take his strange feelings out on you, inadvertently pushing you away. Thank the sevens for Lilia (or not) because the bat fae would always have something to say about Sebek when he’d see you. “Have you heard of how brave Sebek was?” “Have you seen how cute he is when his face turns red?” Thankfully, Sebek got used to the pitter patter he felt when you smiled at him, no longer scolding you for…smiling? Another one that you learn tends to project. He’s degrading you for being human? Well he’s half human too, so he probably feels the same about himself more than you. Which causes you to try and compliment him more…which leads to him shouting, cycle repeats. I hope you brought ear plugs, cus the moment you spilled your guts, the soft atmosphere turned harsh. His face lit up red as his shoulders rose to his ears, be prepared for a flustered, shouting croc.
“C-cease your tempting words human! I-I only have eyes for Waka-sama! I have no time for foolish endeavors that will ruin my position! W-wait, don’t l-leave! I n-never said I didn’t f-feel the s-same!”
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irndad · 1 month
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here I lay me down - s.r.
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a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)
Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here. 
The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place. 
When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air. 
It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her. 
He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember. 
He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate. 
A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore. 
It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door. 
He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch. 
Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?
Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him. 
“How are you feeling?”
He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern. 
“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition. 
She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense. 
“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice. 
“I’m okay,” he tries to reply. 
“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain. 
“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.
It doesn’t mean anything. 
“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”
It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else. 
Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week. 
When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.
“Thank you for coming.”
It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet. 
It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him? 
It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.
When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.
It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.
_______________________________________
It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver. 
Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around. 
She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too. 
Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.
Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him. 
When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch
It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them. 
“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view. 
It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants. 
“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”
He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt. 
And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back. 
“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking. 
“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”
It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch. 
“Why did you?”
He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes,  and if he comes home shot. 
He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.
So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow. 
She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone. 
His voice catches in his throat.
“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.
“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back. 
“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”
“You think I hate you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”
He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him? 
“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”
She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her. 
“Why do you think that is?”
She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of. 
“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”
“You still love me?”
“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”
“Don’t get over me.”
It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple. 
“That’s mean, Spence.” 
“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”
Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly. 
“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”
She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have. 
“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him. 
“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“
“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”
He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-
It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered. 
When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed. 
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xiaours · 1 month
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OPPOSITES
— genshin men being put into categories of cat and dogs.
pairing. genshin men x gn!reader (seperate)
cw. fluff, some may be mischaracterized, slight jealousy
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— CAT GUYS
They are cold and reserved. Not making any sort of contact with any other people before you came along. It was hard for them to warm up to you. It was just hard to open up to you from their side of perspective. These guys want you all to themselves, even if they don't show it expression-wise. They aren't used to showing affection and want. So as a replacement for that loss, they'll bring you random things, sit next to you most times, or just glare at people who even look in your direction. They love you. They cherish you, even if they don't show it.
— xiao, diluc, wanderer, alhaitham, cyno, albedo + your favs
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— DOG GUYS
The doggy guys are very loyal to you. They love you unconditionally and can't help but feel happy inside whenever they see you. The urge to protect what's theirs comes naturally when seeing you with another person. It makes them a tad bit jealous, even though they know that you love them just as much as they love you. They're openly affectionate, they're not shy to show admiration towards their lover in public. They'd show you off to the entire world of Teyvat if they could. Holding your hand and kissing your lips is what brightens up their day. As the two of you get ready for bed, they can't help but cuddle up to you, not wanting to be out of touch.
— itto, childe, gorou, venti, lyney, thoma + your favs
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© xiaours. do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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goldsainz · 8 months
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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW — one shot.
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
MASTERLIST.
taglist: @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @schumacheer @saintslewis @leoramage @ellswilliams @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @woweewoowa @forza55
summary: you’ve slowly consumed charles’s thoughts, and he doesn’t mind it.
request: “can i request ✒️ ❛ you’re my family too. ❜ + charles ?? thx in advanced hehe <3” by @ssainzz
warnings: pure fluff
NOTE: i was listening to margaret by lana while writing this and i just though it was so perfect for this fic. trying to get back into writing after a pretty uninspiring (and quite rough) few weeks. hope you enjoy bc i sure enjoyed writing this!
[ word count: 748 ]
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Charles adores his job. He loves the sound of the engine, standing on the podium, seeing all the excitement the fans have to give and he adores travelling the world. He would never complain about the amazing things he is doing, but if there is one thing he has learned to cherish even more than all of that, it is you.
You’ve become an integral part of his days. Whether it’s waking up next to you or calling you to check in, he knows you’ve become home to him. When people ask him how his family is doing, he never fails to mention how you are doing.
He can’t help but admire you every time you walk by him, you’re a ray of sunshine in his life; at least that’s what everyone tells him. He hasn’t heard the end of it since he revealed you were his girlfriend, from his teammate to the fans, they can all see how much you’ve brightened his soul.
“Charles?” You softly say, snapping him out of the daydream he was in.
He glances up at you, watching as you move around the room. You’re packing your suitcase, clothes thrown around the room, you’ve most certainly overpacked for the race weekend. But Charles won’t tell you. He’s tried before and it’s a lost cause.
“Hm?”
“Do you think I should take the maroon or vermillion?” You muse, grabbing two different types of dresses and placing them against each other.
Charles furrows his brows, he glances between the dresses and tries to make a decision. But if he’s honest, he doesn’t know what the difference really is. The cuts of the dress are practically identical, and the length is the same in his eyes.
“The maroon?” He says doubtfully. You screw up your nose at his decision, apparently not being what you wanted to hear.
You look at the dress Charles picked once more, and with a shrug you throw it onto the ever-growing pile of clothes in your suitcase.
“I was thinking that for your family dinner we should bring something, right?” You ask him, organising some of the mess you’ve made.
“Our family dinner,” He tells you, a soft smile resting on his lips.
“Huh?” You manage to say, dropping the clothes you were folding onto the bed he’s resting on.
“You said that it was my family dinner, but it’s ours.”
“Oh,” You exhale, taking notice of the deep sentiment behind his words.
It takes you slightly by surprise, it’s not unlike Charles to be sweet, to reassure you with words when things get hard. But this time it is almost out of nowhere. You didn’t really mean anything by your words, yet it seems they touched him in a way you’re not even sure how to describe. The one thing you do know though, is that at the end of the day, he comes home to you. Because home is wherever you are, and that is bigger than anything else.
“You’re family to me, chérie.” He says after the smallest beat of silence.
“You’re my family too.” He doesn’t waste a second in getting up from the bed and kisses you grabbing the nape of your neck and pulling you into the kiss like he won’t ever get to do so again.
There is a pause in time. While his lips are on yours, it seems like everything just stops. Leaving you to breathe in the moment, cherish the feeling.
When you pull away from the kiss, the crinkles in Charles’s eyes from the soft smile he gives you melts all your insides. You’d be a fool not to give him the same sentiment back, and so you do.
“You’ve got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.” He whispers, his hand caressing the side of your face.
“And you’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.” You say back, admiring the depth of the green in them.
Though neither of you say it, too lost in the moment, it is evident that the love between you is sparkling. And you know, you just know, that Charles is the one for you; just like he knows you were made for him.
If there’s anything you know, it is that he is your family. That he is the one you love. The one you’d come home to every day and never be bored of it. Because monotony with Charles is impossible, and if there ever is, you’d still want it.
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cozycottagetarot · 1 month
Text
PAC: Your Person's Appearance
What Are Their Vibes & Characteristics?
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PILE 1 (Source) | PILE 2 (Source) | PILE 3 (Source)
This was supposed to be a quick reading but idk what happened 🤨. I apologise if it's scattered though I think I saw that every time 😅.
Anyways, this reading covers your person's vibes they give off as well as any notable features about them. As always this reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨
Version 1 Of This Reading
PAC Reading Masterlist | Paid Readings
PILE 1
Initial Impressions: Dark features, intelligent look, balanced masculine and feminine energies, ambitious, helpful, burnout, (Mount) Vesuvius, mystical, dreamy, starry-eyed, intuitive, regal, physically fit, wish fulfilment, hope, they brighten up the room, a new beginning, secure.
Vibes You May Pick Up On:
They have a quiet confidence. Even if they don’t say much of anything, you can sense their self-assuredness. They could be in a position of power career-wise where they oversee others or an operation but I don’t think that it’s something they’re particularly happy about or take lightly. People may think it’s all fun and games for them but actually, it’s quite the opposite. They could actually be quite lonely despite their work. They could have left home and they can’t return to it. They carry a heaviness with them. Working on themselves and levelling up. Focused. Lost in thought. Optimistic. They could exude a sense of hope and magic, just being in their presence may boost your mood. Busy. Moving from one thing to the next. Coffee shop vibes. Proportionate body. Someone new that you’re manifesting. You two could meet at a time of change and transformation in one or both of your lives. If you’re accustomed to unhealthy relationships or drawn to people that aren’t good for you, this is the opposite. They might not even look like they used to. They’ll have a very nice body… you may really like their legs. They may wear clothes that expose a part of their body... particularly their chest. Nurturing energy. I think you may just kind of know or you’ll feel a sense of peace.
Notable Characteristics:
Hair colours are pretty diverse— you’ve got black, red, blonde and grey (or platinum that came to me as well) hair. They could have curly or kinky hair types. The only one that came out for face shapes was square. Their eyes may be hooded or they may have a monolid. They could have a broad or roman shaped nose. When it comes to their mouth. They could have a cupid’s bow and thin lips, straight teeth and they may smirk a lot or their smile looks like a smirk. The last few physical things are they might be on the shorter side or shorter than you and they could have scars or a skin condition (eczema, vitiligo, etc). Their voice may be smooth or animated. Their style could be very aesthetic or vintage and they may wear a lot of formal/business wear. They may come across as quiet/reserved, intelligent and charismatic.
You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 2!
If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading
PILE 2
Initial Impressions: Symphony by Clean Bandit feat Zara Larson came to me, Someone you’re destined to meet.. the one who got away or someone who’s unforgettable from day one, dangerous look, security, a strong appearance, protective, fierce, a wish fulfilled, a musician, someone who moves with fluidity, muse, not the knight you expect, a little bit closed off
Vibes You May Pick Up On:
They may try to stay under the radar, but I think that may be a little hard… at least when it comes to you. You may need some help with them though, as in getting a relationship started. There’s a wildness to them but it might get them in trouble so they try to tame themselves (I also hear tame their desire for adventure). They may not look like their stable but they are and they worked hard for what they have. I think this person may look focused… a little bit scruffy or dishevelled if they’re a man. I felt like you may be cautious of them but I think that they may also come across as guarded and cautious of others. There’s definitely a sense of maturity to them and wisdom. Highly perceptive. They could have multiple ear piercings. You could meet this person by chance. In one of the previous versions (see the end of your pile’s reading) I think I wrote that you two might meet in a way ‘only the divine could have orchestrated’. I don’t know how to describe it, but it may not be a meeting you could have ever thought to dream of/up. I think of wolves when I think of this person based on the cards as well. They may have a tough exterior, not easily approachable. They’re everything you want whether or not you know or see it at first. They may carry a lot of stress. Actually very passionate and inspiring. A diamond in the rough or a lamp that needs polishing.
Notable Characteristics
Short, curvy (I also remember picking up on husky at one point in a prev version), they could wear glasses but prefer to wear contacts. For hair, you guys have a good set of cards so their hair may be a significant feature. The cards around hair were— wavy, unique cut/style, afro (or puffy hair), salt & pepper, short hair, blonde, grey hair, long hair, and straight hair. For facial hair, it’s either clean-shaven or a beard. Their face shape could be round, square or diamond-shaped. For lips, they could have a cupid’s bow. They could have brown or green eyes or their eye colour may look unique. Their voice could be youthful or higher in pitch or on the opposite end deep. You also got smooth and they could have a foreign accent (whatever that means to you). Lastly, some impressions about this person are they may come across as confident, charismatic, quiet/reserved and professional/polished.
You can check out the discarded versions of this PAC here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 1! Discard 1 (all piles) | Discard V.2 (your pile only)
If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.
PILE 3
Initial Impressions: Vibes of being a player. Not being from around the same location. Something about their eyes. A rake. Large and in charge. Good with words or a sweet talker. Lively. Someone not to be tied down. Awakening something with you. Happy. Young. Naive. Sociable. Could be from somewhere warm or they could make you warm. Strong. Visually impaired? Intuitive… like they know the "secrets of the universe”. Jewellery may be significant. Wanderer. Hands. Might wear lots of prints. Rings. Marriage material. They could be a risk taker or look like a risk you’re willing to take. They may be quite flamboyant which might resonate a lot if you’re more reserved in how you dress or present yourself to the world. Grey hair. Frustrating. Baby Charli XCX.
Vibes You May Pick Up On:
They might come across as slightly immature and before some of you roll your eyes, immaturity doesn’t always show up as a negative. It could be a playfulness to them that makes you think they haven’t really lived and explored life yet. They may give off the vibe that pursuing them is a risk of some kind on your part. You might feel like you’ve got to be very careful about pursuing them or allowing them to pursue you.
They could look like a social butterfly. An infectious vibe or personality. They may light up the room. For a lot of you, I feel like I’m viewing this person in an educational or work setting and like watching them from afar interact with other people. They could look like a drifter. One dynamic I’m picking up on as well is your person being the type of person willing to pack up and go anywhere on a whim while you may be more cautious and the type to need a plan first. They’ll say ‘runaway with me’ and look at you expectantly while your head and heart battle. They may seem very creative or flamboyant. There’s a sense of home or familiarity too. Not sure how you’re going to get the final cut of this atm, but I definitely picked that up in the first deck I used. “Your person could look familiar to you— it doesn’t necessarily mean that you know them though for half of you I think you could. I think when you see your person you may have that “Have we met before?” moment.”
Physically you may find their hands very attractive. They could be skilled in a profession where they have to use their hands a lot (mainly for crafting I’m getting this scenario) and could either hand you something or demonstrate something where you’re focused on their hands. Very attractive hands lol, this may make you blush. They could look very athletic. Very confident. They may turn your world upside down (in a freeing way I see).
Notable Characteristics
The most notable thing about your person may be their voice. I’ve made some traits/characteristics and the majority of what I got relates to voice. Some traits you’ve got for voice are: soft, smooth, deep, animated (they may speak in a way that paints a picture), youthful/high(er)-pitched voice
Their face shape could be round or oval. They could have wavy/shoulder-length hair or no hair at all. If they wear facial hair, it’d be a beard. Their nose could be upturned or described as aquiline. For eyes, they could be round or have monolids and they may have a unique eye colour. They may have full lips or crooked teeth. Freckles. Tattoos. They may look ethereal or be a boho/laid-back and/or vintage style.
You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights.
If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.
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grandline-fics · 6 days
Text
Terms of Endearment
DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 
WARNINGS: just fluff, mentions of alcohol in Luffy's
CHARACTERS: Ace, Sabo, Luffy | Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro
WORDS: 1,933
A/N: The next part in this in honour of reaching 500 followers. Hope you all enjoy
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
———————
ACE
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You knew nothing would ever happen between you and the Division Commander. You knew he was just a likeable guy who was friendly and warm with everyone. Countless times you told yourself that he was just nice with everyone and yet still you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat just a little faster when he smiled at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from liking him a little more each time he spoke with you and spent time with you outside of chores and tasks being done onboard the ship. It didn’t matter though, even with the knowledge nothing romantic would happen you were happy to be considered a close friend of Ace’s.
One morning you were perched on the edge of the ship’s railing and keeping a critical eye on the thick wall of cloud draped over the entirety of the sky above the next island you were approaching. It made a stark difference to the clear blue you and the rest of the crew were currently under. You were no stranger to the absurdity of the ever changing weather and separate climates certain islands had but seeing what you were going to be greeted with was starting to sour your mood. It wasn’t as fun stopping at an island if there was a storm to endure.
“Glaring at the clouds won’t make them change you know.” You looked over your shoulder to see Ace hop up onto the railing and sit down beside you. Glancing out of the corner of your eye you were jealous of how relaxed he was and let out a long sigh as you returned your stare to the clouds you could now see were darker than you had originally thought. 
“Who knows, stranger things have happened on these seas.” You mused, scowling harder now that the idea was in your head. “Maybe I have the ability to control weather and neither of us knew it? Don’t know unless I try.”
From beside you Ace laughed, reclining back to support his body on his elbows and grinned up at you. 
“If that were possible, that’d be a pretty dumb gift. Glaring at clouds to make them obey you? You’d get a headache all day.” You rolled your eyes and laughed, getting more comfortable too, lying down and tucking your arms behind your head. 
“Look we can’t all be super amazing and control fire like some people, Ace.” You teased, a small yawn breaking from your lips as your eyes closed. You were still a ways away from the stormy island so you may as well make the most of the sunshine and warmth until then. “Some of us are just boring.”
“I definitely wouldn’t call you boring.” Ace told you. Safely in the knowledge that you couldn’t see him, he could observe you carefully with softened gaze. “You’re one of my favourite people to hang out with.” 
“Aw thank you love, you always know just what to say.” Your relaxed smile brightened considerably but you were too drowsy to open your eyes again to look at the man beside you. It was also why you hadn’t realised your slip of the tongue. Ace however tensed and sat up a little straighter from his once relaxed position. His eyes were widened and a soft pink was dusting his freckled skin. All this time he’d thought his feelings were one-sided and now he was hit with the reality that it might not be the case. Overcome with a burst of excitement and hope he quickly lay back down and used his hat to hide his giddy expression and began to think about how to subtly broach the subject when you were awake.
SABO
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“You’re not going to improve if you don’t keep your focus.” Hack lectured, swiftly knocking Sabo back with ease. Sabo managed to recover from the attack and retaliated with one of his own that was completely dodged to the point it made the attack look so pitiful. Hack paused in the sparring match to frown at the younger Revolutionary. “Seriously, what’s with you today? Do you need to take a break?” Quickly Sabo shook his head and forced himself to keep his attention on Hack but even then he couldn’t help but feel your presence silently calling to him. 
You were oblivious to the power you had over the Chief of Staff, even from the very first day you joined the Revolutionary Army you’d somehow managed to make Sabo immediately endeared to you. Given Sabo’s personality he was able to pass off his momentary slips and lack of concentration when you were around and for the most part others hadn’t made the connection. Most being the word. People like Hack, Koala, and Dragon however knew. Normally Hack wouldn’t mind and ignore it but this was the third time in the short amount of time of the sparring match that he’d seen Sabo zone out and look your way as you were speaking with Dragon about a recent mission you’d been on. Enough was enough. After knocking Sabo onto his back, Hack turned and called you over. You finished your conversation with Dragon and approached the sparring pair with a soft, expectant smile while Sabo got to his feet. “I want you to spar Sabo with me. Perhaps having two opponents will help sharpen his dulled senses.” 
You became concerned to hear Hack’s less than complimentary tone at the blond and you looked to Sabo with a light frown, scrutinising his features carefully. Could it be he was sick? Was something else be bothering him? It wasn't like the Chief of Staff to be so distracted especially when it came to his training. At the suggestion of you fighting along with Hack, Sabo’s expression became a mix of uncertainty and irritation. He didn’t want to spar against you but he couldn’t outright deny Hack requesting you join them given he had no real reason to oppose it. Sabo could only take a breath and adjust his stance while praying he didn’t make an embarrassment of himself.
At first having you as part of the fight helped Sabo when it came to focusing on the fight, by having two skilled fighters attacking he didn’t have the ability to pay attention to his personal feelings. However when he kept his sight on Hack as the priority he’d slipped up and forgotten you. You took the window of opportunity and ducked under Sabo’s arm, your face less than inch from his. Quickly you hooked her arm around his and tucked your foot around his ankle, twisting and knocking him to the ground. You kept a firm hold on Sabo’s wrist and pressed your knee into his back. “Give up sweetie?” you asked innocently, unable to see Sabo’s eyes widen. Before he could respond you were abruptly called for by another Revolutionary to go out on a mission. Pouting you released Sabo and left him and Hack. 
“Please tell me I didn’t imagine that…” Sabo uttered, almost begging Hack. He looked up to see the Fishman grin at him and help him to his feet. 
“No I heard it too. Funny thing is I don’t think they noticed they did it.” Sabo watched your retreating form and brightly smiled. 
“Interesting.”
LUFFY
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For the most part Luffy can be considered fairly clueless about a lot of things if they don’t involve his ambition to be King of the Pirates and obtaining the One Piece, doing whatever he wanted and eating all he wished. That included his own deeper feelings at times. However no matter how complex Luffy’s emotions were about certain things he found it easier to break them down into more simplistic views and gain a better understanding about them. He found he had to do that with you and the longer you were part of his crew the more he had to take an inward look at his feelings. So far he was able to discern that he liked you, he liked being around you and it was mutual because you’d been all too eager to join his crew. For the longest time it was simple as that. 
Things however became complicated one night after he and the rest of the crew helped free another town from a corrupt ruler. As always the celebration was a large affair with plenty of food, music and drink. While Luffy wasn’t a drinker and happily indulged in all the food he could get his hands on, you were pulled into a drinking contest with some of the locals along with Nami, Zoro, Franky, and Usopp. You’d managed to hold your own for a respectable amount but when you felt the world being to tilt and your mind grow hazy you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle anymore. 
Staggering from the table you somehow managed to wander to the only spot you knew you’d feel completely safe and content with. You didn’t know how you managed it, call it instinct or sheer will but you stopped beside your Captain and slid down to sit on the soft grass beside him, leaning against his back for support. Luffy looked over his shoulder to grin at you before continuing to eat. “You lost huh?” he laughed before taking a large bite of a meat skewer.
“It’s cheating when Zoro plays.” You grumbled, shifting to get more comfortable against your Captain. “He’s so smug too. Didn’t even wanna win anyway.” You fell into soft laughter with Luffy and then drifted into content silence. Subconsciously Luffy moved while he ate, seamlessly turning so you were leaning against his side and neither of you seemed to even notice the new position.
When morning came and you woke with a hangover and lack of memory you let out a worried groan, hoping that whatever you’d done wasn’t too embarrassing or at the very least you hoped that everyone else was also too drunk to remember too. Wincing you pushed yourself up to see that you were in your own bed. Hazily you tried to force your brain to work and managed to pull out the image of Luffy which made sense, he was your go-to for anything. Knowing he didn’t drink, you knew you could also rely on him for the truth on what you failed to remember. You found Luffy sitting on Sunny’s head just as you knew he’d be but you became worried to see him frowning, deep in thought. “Everything okay Luffy?” you asked, flinching when Luffy’s head swiftly snapped around to look at you intently. 
“No! You’re not allowed to call me that.” Immediately worry and guilt took hold. What had you done? Would he ever forgive you? Oh no, what if it was so bad he’d kick you off of the ship for good. 
“Wh-what do you mean?“ You asked panicked and feeling sick which was not from the hangover. “Whatever I’ve done I’m sorry but I don’t remember. Please tell me what I did wrong. I can fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Luffy’s expression became confused. “I’ve just decided that you can’t call me Luffy anymore I like what you called me last night after I helped you to bed better.” 
“Oh…” you couldn’t tell what you were feeling in that moment exactly. Desperately you tried to think what you called him, silently thankful that whatever it was hadn’t offended him. “Well if you want me to call you that instead you have to remind me.”
“You called me dear.” Luffy grinned while your face reddened.
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on-leatheredwings · 2 months
Text
House Arrest
Yandere! Batfam / Bruce Wayne x (Fem!) Reader
For a request, Munchausen's syndrome by proxy with Bruce? Like, he keeps reader sick so she can't leave him or interact with someone outside the family. And maybe the rest of the batfam is in on it?
[a/n: Didn’t know if you wanted this platonic or not so I didn’t specify! In my head its romantic with bruce though lmao]
> word count: 1581
> Tw: gaslighting, munchausen’s syndrome by proxy, yandere-typical behaviors!
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You sit in anticipation, foot tapping against the stone floor. There’s an entire miniature hospital set up for you down here in the Batcave. Respirators, diagnostics machines, and other expensive medical equipment that would be better served in Gotham General. 
Helping people recover. 
So patients could some day leave. 
You used to love being in the Batcave. It was the family’s little secret. When you officially joined the family, the Batcave was now your secret as well. But ever since falling ill months ago, bedridden with a sickness whose cause continues to elude everyone… being here is depressing. You now notice it’s damp down here. Dark. Lifeless.
Bruce sits at the Batcomputer, the screen’s light painting over his face in a green wash. You watch his eyes scan line after line of your results. Reminds you of a typewriter. Methodical. Orderly. Nearly inhuman. When he sighs, your heart stops. 
Fuck.
He turns to you, face grave. “You’re still ill.” 
Your eyes start stinging with an onset of tears that you furiously try to blink back. 
“... H-How ill? How bad? Am I any better?” you ask, as if bartering with him will make the situation any different. As if bartering with God ever made any difference for mere mortals such as yourself.
Bruce’s face is still. 
“You haven’t improved.” 
Your hopes crash down around you like glass. You aren’t better at all? Even though you haven’t had a fever in weeks? Even though you’ve been working out with enough energy to keep up with Damian? He was exerting perhaps only 10% of his effort, but still. Your lymph nodes aren’t even swollen anymore. Tim had told you as much, accidentally contradicting Bruce’s insistence that they had been earlier that morning. 
“But I feel better,” you croak. You hear footsteps behind you approach and you swallow drily, nearly hissing at the offender. It’s Dick, and damn him. You don’t want to be placated right now.
“Are you experiencing any headaches? Shortness of breath?” Bruce asks, eyes still trained on you. You try to recall. 
“... I may have had a migraine this morning…” At Bruce’s weary shake of the head, you blurt, “But it’s passed. I’m perfectly fine. And no shortness of breath.”
“... I’m sorry. But if you’ve been having symptoms like that, along with your being immunocompromised…” Bruce doesn’t even have to finish the sentence. You won’t be leaving the Wayne Manor grounds for a long time. 
Fuck. 
Fuck. 
You feel a hand on your shoulder. You look up and see Dick, whose face is somber but offers an encouraging smile. 
“Well, I’m back in town for the time being. We can hang out all the time.” His expression brightens as an idea pops into his head. “And I can call Tim, Jason, Duke–! Maybe even Cass and Steph… We can have a board game night tonight!” He sounds as chipper as you are miserable.
Damian approaches from behind, leaving the shadows. His arms are folded. “If that’s the case, I’ll humor Grayson and let him capture some of my fleet for once.” A popular choice was Risk, perfect for the family who’s entire lives revolved around combat and strategy. But you didn’t want to play Risk again. You didn’t want to have a board game night, no matter how many of the family came. You wanted to see people. 
Other people. Everyone here is your family. 
You want fucking friends again. You wanted a job again – a sentiment you would’ve laughed at even just five months ago. You wanted any semblance of a life again.
Bruce’s eyes haven’t left your trembling form once, two chips of slate-gray peering over steepled hands.
“Thank you, Dick. Damian. But I think she could use some time alone.”
Dick’s hand releases your shoulder, retracting as if burned. None of them are the boss here. It’s Bruce who is my warden, your mind whispers darkly. 
“Right! Don’t want you to feel overwhelmed.” Dick sees himself out, taking Damian with him. “See you tonight.” And that feels like a sentencing to your fate.
Now the two of you alone, Bruce stands, offering his arm wordlessly. You know what this means. You take it, linking yours with his without thought or protest. Bruce liked to ensure you were always within his reach, as if you were prone to fainting spells. This was less humiliating for you than him carrying you through the estate, you suppose. 
“Why, yes, let’s take a turn around the grounds!” you used to exclaim, making your voice posh and British, mimicking the regency romance movies you had been watching all the time. 
Now, months later, you just sullenly allow him to lead you. Your surroundings pass by and you vaguely recognize that you are exiting the Batcave, walking through the manor, and out into the never-ending expanse of a well-kept lawn. 
It’s a sunny, idyllic spring day after months of overcast winter. 
And thank god you could still traipse outside when you wanted, even if fenced in. Bruce told you when you had first fallen ill that he had installed some high-tech, anti-air pollution gadget. Wayne Manor was effectively your own personal bubble. Fresh air was the only thing keeping you sane, lately. 
You two pass by the garden, a labor of love Alfred started. You and Damian tend to it now… and mainly the latter, these days. You haven’t had any energy for gardening as of late. Fatigue is a symptom, you hear Bruce’s voice whisper in the back of your mind. But you don’t feel fatigue… rather, just depressed. But of course, isn’t fatigue a symptom of being depressed…? A familiar brain fog crawls into your mind. Your head was starting to hurt.
You look across the lawn, onto the horizon. Gotham’s dark skyline sits there, enticing. When night falls, it’ll glimmer and twinkle with light. There is a whole world out there. And, God, you love the Waynes, but they aren’t the world. You need to distract yourself. Bruce, ever the lover of pleasant silences, is going to have to distract you from thoughts that make you want to leap off the second story balcony of your bedroom.
Should you ask, “How’s work?” No. You find you don’t care. 
“How’s Jason?” you say instead, feeling Bruce stiffen at the mention of his most tenuous relation.
He wasn’t around as much, but when he was, he was always relaxing with you in your room. You have a whole shelf for the knick knacks he brings. “Don’t worry. They’re clean,” he’d snort at his former mentor, because Bruce required everything to be thrice sanitized before coming into your possession.
“... Better.”
You’re glad. That’s one good thing, you guess. 
“Bruce,” you croak. 
He looks at you, face alight in expectation. 
“Maybe I should just go,” you say, small and weak. Your eyes don’t leave the sight of Gotham skyscrapers, stretching to the sky. Bruce stills, stopping you both in your tracks.
“What do you mean, ‘go’?” he says carefully.
You remove yourself from his arm and gesture to the city. “Just go. Leave. I mean, I can’t stay here forever.” Bruce looks genuinely confused, as much as he can. 
“Of course you can.”
“No, I can’t!” you screech. Frustrated, you tear at your hair. “I can just be an outpatient somewhere– I can go for hospital treatments every week– or everyday– whatever!
Bruce places his hands on your shoulders.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
Rage flares in you and you gnash your teeth at him. By now, that all-too-familiar brain fog has flooded your brain. But you try to fight it. You have to fight it. Like trying to crawl out of rapidly-sinking quicksand, you fight it.
“I-I know what I’m saying. I’m saying–”
“You’re saying to just let you die,” Bruce sharply returns. “To give up, let you die, and leave us to grieve.” 
“No–”
“Stephanie.” 
You meet his eyes again at the name, which are resolute and as blue as ever. 
“Cassandra. Duke.” Your stomach churns, imagining their smiling faces, turned into ash as your hypothetical passing. “Barbara.” 
“Bruce,” you croak, pleading inwardly for him to stop. 
“Damian.” 
“Tim.”
“Jason.” 
“Dick. Alfred.” You duck your head and your eyes meet the ground. The listing of all your loved ones pinches your heart, and you feel nauseous. You weren’t trying to leave them. You didn’t want to leave them at all. 
“... Me.” 
Your eyes sting with tears again. Why did he have to make it sound like that? Like you were seeking some selfish want, rather than trying to improve your quality of life. You feel your ambition and desire wane under the weight of guilt. You feel all sense of struggle start to disintegrate, lost to the fog in your head. Lost. You’ve lost.
Bruce’s eyes scrutinize you.
“As I suspected. You’re acting delirious. Manic. Delusional.”
Any semblance of protest dies in your throat. 
“What?” you say. But Bruce is already leading you away towards the looming doors of Wayne Manor, away from the green of the grounds. Away from the light of the sun, and away from the skyline. He comforts you with familiar lines on the way to your bedroom. 
You need rest. Alfred will brew his tea for you. I’ll call the kids to come tonight. We can play Risk. He pats your shoulder, stroking soft, deceptively warm circles with his thumb.
“You just need some rest.” 
And not for the first time, you believe he may be right.
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psychedelic-ink · 17 days
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘
ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader x tess servopoulos
genre: smut, modern au, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: you're new to town and tess invites you to go camping with her and joel.
warnings: fmf, threesome, flf dynamics, reader being eaten out for the first time, dirty talk, oral s.ex, cum eating/play, for the sake of this fic let's just imagine they have a very big tent they can actually stand in lmaodfb, things escalate quickly but honestly I just wanted to write some good old smut
a/n: this wasn't originally intended for the amazing @undercoverpena's april showers challenge BUT since I had already written the rain aspect of the fic I thought it would be nice to post this for it 💜
prompt: both/all parties get caught in the rain. 
**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜
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Breathing is hard. Walking is hard. Carrying the weight of your backpack is hard. 
But, the fresh air, the white clouds above, and the two people you’re with make up for it. 
Stopping briefly, you roll your shoulders and stretch, neither of them notice you. Not really. You figure it’s not really important if they do or don’t, it’s not like they’re that much ahead of you, catching up wouldn’t be difficult. You watch them, you must admit, a bit dreamily as they walk the bath they’re clearly so used to walking. You’re still surprised that the seasoned hikers invited you to a camping trip. Tess was the one to approach, she knew you were new and how overwhelming it’s been getting used to the people and the sights. She told you she and Joel would be going on a trip soon and that you should join. And even though your answer had been an eager yes, you were worried about holding them back. Admittedly, you weren’t the most fit and haven’t hiked anywhere in years. 
However, your excitement to spend time with not one but both of them had tipped the scale rather harshly. You’ve been harboring a secret crush on both of them, it was hard not to when both of them were charming and witty.
Now, as you walk behind them, you can't help but steal glances at the way Tess effortlessly navigates the trail, her hair swaying with each step. Joel walks beside her, occasionally pointing out interesting plants or landmarks, his backpack seeming almost weightless on his shoulders.
You catch yourself smiling as you imagine what adventures lie ahead on this trip.
You decide to pick up your pace, closing the gap between you and them. As you draw nearer, Tess glances back, her eyes brightening with a genuine smile as she sees you catching up.
"How's the hike treating you?"
You catch your breath and reply, "It's challenging, but I'm enjoying every moment of it."
Joel turns around with a friendly grin. "Glad to hear that. We've got a great spot picked out for camping tonight."
As the three of you continue forward, you feel a surge of excitement. Your legs might be aching, but you can't wait to see where the day takes you all.
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Rain. 
At first, you thought you were unlucky. You had dreamed of campfire, smores and snuggling underneath the starlight, but with the first lightning strike and drop of water, you thought the two would be agitated, annoyed by the bad weather. 
But to your surprise, as the rain began to fall in earnest after setting the tent, Tess and Joel didn't seem bothered at all. In fact, they laughed and exchanged playful looks as they turned their heads up to the sky. Their infectious joy caught you off guard, and despite the downpour, you found yourself smiling too.
Then, unexpectedly, Joel's arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. A rush of warmth floods through you as his lips brush against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, Tess leans in, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. The moment is electrifying, filled with a blend of desire and affection.
Before you know it, Tess and Joel are gently guiding you towards the tent they had set up earlier. The rain continues to pour around you, but inside the cozy confines of the tent, a different kind of heat ignites. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel cups both your breasts tenderly from underneath, the wet fabric dampening his skin. You feel Tess’s eyes on your back, observing, taking in the details of the scene before her. Meanwhile, Joel’s gaze is glued to your pebbled nipples, he slowly drags his thumbs over them, your breath catching in your throat. “Does that feel good?” 
“It does,” your eyelids flutter, he repeats the movement, drawing circles this time. His eyes flicker up to meet yours. 
“So fucked out already,” he hums. “Our pretty little girl, so shy and hungry.” 
Tess stands from where she is sitting and circles her arms around your waist, fingers digging into your stomach, she pulls you flush against her. Your stomach bottoms out as you feel the plump flesh of her breasts against your back. Your lips part, you want to kiss her. 
You want to kiss her. 
You turn your head, chasing her lips with yours, before your eyes close, you see the mischievous curl of her lips. She pulls away and smiles even wider when you whine. “You’re so easy to tease.” 
Opening your eyes, you swallow, your body arches when Joel sneaks both hands under your shirt, lifting the fabric, goosebumps raise all over your skin. “Is that a bad thing?” you ask her, voice slightly shaking. 
“Not at all princess,” she drags her lips down your neck. “It just makes it even more amusing.” 
Your reply gets stuck in your throat as Joel dips down and sucks one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. He tightly closes his lips around the nub and flicks it with his tongue. Your body jolts, pleasure running through you like the lighting outside. Your head falls over Tess’s shoulder, she lays open-mouthed kisses over your neck, her hands unbuttoning your pants. 
“You want him to eat you out?” she breathes into your skin and without looking at either of them you nod. “Have you ever had your pussy eaten out, princess?” 
You lick your lips, “No,” you say half ashamed, and swallow. “This’ll be my first time.” 
Joel’s tongue stills on your skin and suddenly two hungry eyes come into your view. If you didn’t know better you’d say he looks pissed off. Never breaking eye contact, he continues what Tess started and pushes down your pants along with your underwear, leaving you bare to the chill of the tent. He pushes two fingers between your folds and starts stroking you, you shudder against both of them, and your breath hitches. 
“Tell me how bad you want it,” he says. “Beg me for it.” 
“Please.” 
He chuckles darkly, “Oh sweetheart, I ain’t gettin’ on my knees for that. Do better.” 
You let out a small gasp as he grips your chin, squeezing lightly. To provide comfort, Tess kisses the back of your neck, however, you can feel her smiling into your skin. 
“Please,” you say again. “I want you to make me come, Joel. I want to feel your tongue—I want you to be my first—” 
Your lips part for another incoming beg but he’s already sinking to his knees, large hands sliding up and down the back of your thighs. A shudder rolls up your spine. Tess’s hands replace Joel’s, kneading your breasts softly. 
His hands finally come between your thighs, gently nudging them so you open wider. You see a flicker of a smile when you do, amused, he drags two fingers between your folds. “You’re soaked, sweetheart.” 
“She’s not the only one,” Tess chuckles. “Now get on with it, Miller. I’m impatient.” 
He clicks his tongue without retaliating further. You feel the warmth of his breath on your core, and slowly, he presses his lips over your mound, the scratch of his beard making it an exquisite experience. You moan at the touch of his tongue, it moves slowly, circling your clit and going deeper. His nails bite into your skin, the sounds he makes between your legs are downright sinful. Your legs begin to shake. 
“Shh it’s okay,” Tess whispers against your cheek. “Just give him a taste and we’ll lay you down, princess. I know you can do it.” 
Joel grunts in approval, the timber of the sound making you whimper. His hands slide up to your ass and he squeezes the mounds roughly, pushing you further against his mouth. He licks and sucks, when you feel the bite of his nails against your skin, you finally come undone. 
Your knees threaten to give out under you, the only thing holding you upright being the two stunning people consuming you. Tess smiles against your skin, kissing and licking the salt of your skin. Meanwhile, Joel moans rather loudly, licking everything you have to offer as you come, come and come some more. You’ve never felt anything this intense before. The air is knocked from your lungs, your body ice cold yet burning up at the same time. 
You’re vaguely aware of Joel standing, the man who was worshipping you between your legs suddenly towering over you. He has a small smile as he leans in, you think he’s going to kiss the slope of your shoulder first but then you hear the soft sounds of two lips coming together. With the corner of your eyes, you see them. Tess and Joel kissing, their tongues sliding into each other's mouth, sharing your taste—
“Fuck,” you whisper, your cunt throbbing. They both smile, lips curving in an almost malicious way. As they break apart, Tess licks Joel’s lips, her eyes find yours. 
“Someone’s still hungry for more,” she teases, slowly stripping. “Get on all fours for us, princess.” 
You swallow and do as she says. You feel Joel’s large hands cup the mounds of your ass, squeezing tenderly. “Beautiful,” he rasps. “Such a goddamn sight.” 
Your back arches into his touch. He drags two thick fingers between your folds as Tess lays down, spreading her legs. Your eyes immediately drop to her center, the soft hair that crowns her pretty pussy. You see her glisten with want and your mouth waters. 
“Don’t be shy now,” she smiles. “Have a taste.” 
Her fingers curl around the back of your neck and at the same time, you feel the head of Joel’s cock stretching you wide. Your eyes roll as you part your lips, Tess moans loudly when your tongue swirls around her puffy clit. You can’t think straight. Joel buries himself deep holding himself there for a second before pulling back and slamming forward. Your moan into Tess’s cunt, your lips parting away briefly every he pulls himself back. 
“Best cunt I’ve ever had,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “How does it feel sweetheart? You enjoyin’ yourself?” 
You flatten your tongue against Tess’s folds and moan, your body clenching. 
“She is,” Tess answers on your behalf, breathless. “Such a sweet girl letting us use her like this.” 
Your eyes close tightly shut, sweat drips down your spine, your body a vessel of pleasure. Every muscle in your body tightens, and you hear both of them groan. You close your lips around Tess’s clit and flick your tongue, her head falls, gushing into your mouth. Joel’s watches intently, his cock pulsing and throbbing, his hand comes against the back of your head and he pushes you further down. 
“Good girl,” he growls, the pace of his thrusts becoming sloppy. “Fuck, that’s it, lick her clean.” 
Tess moans again, the loud sounds becoming whimpers. You can barely breathe but you don’t care. With one final thrusts you come undone around Joel’s cock, your body squeezing him like a vice. 
When the violent shudders of your body become gentle waves, Joel pulls out. Your head falls limply against Tess’s stomach, her hand gently rubbing your neck. A soft gasp leaves you when you see Joel shuffling closer, his cock still hard and glistening. You watch as he strokes himself only mere inches away from your face, the head of his cock an angry shade of red. 
You stick out your tongue as he spills himself over your face and Tess’s stomach. Another pulse of pleasure spreads throughout your body. Tess let’s out a deep sigh, gathering some of the come with her fingers, she pushes them between your lips. 
“Fuck,” Joel sighs, sitting back on his heels. A small smile forms against your lips as you suck on Tess’s fingers, when she pulls them out, you dip your tongue into the mess over her stomach and swallow every drop. 
“Filthy girl,” Tess muses. “And here I’ve been callin’ you princess.” 
“Your fault,” you mumble, looking away, your cheeks burn. 
Joel leans in, capturing your lips before whispering. 
“Don’t pout. You’ll always be our princess.” 
371 notes · View notes
italiansteebie · 1 year
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Somehow, Steve is behind on every pop culture reference of this century, even with all the children he babysits. 
That's why when Eddie Munson walks into the coffee shop he works at, he has no idea who he is and why he’s whispering. He almost wants to yell at him to speak up, but the way the guy is pulling his hat down over his face, sunglasses planted firmly on his nose, Steve can’t help but to wonder if he’s okay. If maybe he’s trying to avoid someone.
So before he can order, Steve leans in asking softly, “Hey are you okay? Is it someone in the shop you’re hiding from? Because I can kick them out.” His protective streak apparently extends beyond his kids. The guy seems to brighten at this, “I'm okay, honest. Just trying to stay out of the spotlight.” There’s something in his tone of voice that is more serious than it should be, but Steve continues on with the transaction. 
It’s pretty dead in the shop, so Steve decides to strike up a conversation. “You new in town?”
“I- What?”
“Oh sorry. I just- usually only regulars come in on Sundays. I was just wondering if you've moved here recently or if… I don’t know, you're visiting or something?” Steve finishes awkwardly. And the guy lets out the most angelic laugh, Steve thinks he’s in love. 
“I’m just visiting.”
Steve gets the feeling this guy doesn’t want to talk, so he moves to finish his drink. Handing it to him with a “Well, I’m here if you need someone to show you around!” and a smile, with his instagram handle written in bold, black ink on the side. The beautiful guy smiles at him, more genuine than it had been before, and turns to walk away.
“Wait! What’s your name?”
Beautiful man arches his eyebrow again, and shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips.
“Eddie.”
And with that he leaves, and Steve is left starstruck for the rest of the day. 
It’s not long before Steve sees Eddie again, in fact he’s there the next morning. Waiting by the counter with his hat and sunglasses planted on. Steve wonders if maybe they’d been glued to his face in some sort of prank. Seems unlikely though.
Eddie approaches the counter, and before he can order Steve leans in, “I was serious yesterday, if there’s someone around here bothering you let me know. It just- seems like you’re uncomfortable or something.” And that beautiful smile graces Eddie’s lips again.
“I’m okay, really. It’s just. A lot of people know me and I don’t… I just want a normal morning at a coffee shop, y‘know?” Steve shrugs, “I can’t say I do, but If you want to talk I’m all ears. Well- Not now of course,” He laughs, “I'm on the clock, but I get out at noon?” He suggests. And who can blame him, there's a beautiful man right in front of him and he’s only human. Of course he’s going to flirt. 
It seems to work too because Eddie agrees and shortly after there's a phone number written on his arm, with weirdly strict instructions to not share it with any one. 
It’s noon, and Steve’s expecting to pull up to a house, but the GPS leads him to a rather nice hotel. One more expensive than he could afford even for one night. He spots Eddie waiting in the lobby, waving at him, signature hat and glasses still on.
“Hey, I decided to meet you down here. I don’t think they’d let you up without me.”
And Steve just smiles and nods, happy to be hanging out with Eddie outside of a place of business. 
Once they reach Eddie’s room, Steve trails in slowly behind him, almost in before there's a firm hand on his shoulder pulling him back. He flinches, as a deep voice loudly says “Where do you think you’re going?” 
“I- Uh. I was, uhm, going to see Eddie?” He finishes voice pitching up at the end like its a question, biting his lip willing the anxious tears that sprouted not to fall. The guy glares at him, “I don’t think so-” But he’s cut off by Eddie, “Woah, Gareth. It’s okay, he’s with me.” And that seems to calm ‘Gareth’ down, and Steve’s shoulders slump in relief. “I didn’t um. I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” He says, cheeks going red. Eddie waves his hand, “Don’t worry about it, Stevie.” And for a second Steve wonders how he knows his name before realizing he’s been wearing a name tag in every one of their interactions.
“He’s harmless, I promise.” Eddie assures ‘Gareth’ again. 
And with that he leaves them alone. They talk for hours, and the time flies by, and Eddie invites him to dinner with him and his friends. He agrees easily, from what Eddie has told him, they all seem pretty cool, although he finds it a bit odd that they all share the uniform of sunglasses and hats. 
At dinner, he can hear the subtle clicks of cameras and whispers, and he quietly wonders if there’s some type of celebrity around. Eddie and his friends laugh, but Steve seems to have missed the joke. 
Overall it was a great night, ending with him and Eddie leaving hand and hand, sharing a soft kiss as Eddie walks him to his car parked in the hotel lot. 
Once safely alone in his car, he squeals like a teenage girl, kicking his feet, twirling his hair, the whole nine yards. He goes to call Robin but in some odd coincidence, she’s already calling him.
“STEVE WHAT THE FUCK.” She’s shouting before he can even speak.
“Robs! I was just about to call you! I had the most amazing date,” He gushes, conveniently leaving out the part where he admits that his date's friends were with them. 
“Yeah, I know, Steve. It’s ALL OVER TWITTER.” And she’s screaming again, so loud he has to pull the phone away from his ear.
“What do you mean? It was just a date, I wasn’t with anyone else!”
“You were with EDDIE MUNSON.”
“Yeah I kn- How do you know the name of my date?”
“Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve.” She sighs.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you met Gareth AND Eddie AND Jeff and Keith! The only four men I would ever let inside me!” Steve cringes at that, “Robs. Never say that to me again. And what is going on? Did- Did you follow me to my date again?” He can hear her exasperated groan from the other side of town, no phone needed. 
“Steve. Listen to me. Do you know the band Corroded Coffin?” 
He shrugs, “Yeah, kind of. Dustin talks about them sometimes.” he doesn't know what this has to do with the beautiful man he just went out with. 
“Okay. So here’s the deal. You have gone on a date, and smooched, SMOOCHED, the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin.”
“I- What?”
“You kissed the lead guitarist of a very popular band.”
“Oh.”
“YEAH, OH, DINGUS.”
His phone chimes and he pulls it away from his ear to check the notification.
‘eddiemunson_CC just followed you.’
Another one follows immediately after that.
‘eddiemunson_CC sent you a message’
“Oop- He’s texting me, hold on.”
“Put me on speaker!”
“Oh, he has a blue check mark next to his instagram name thingy, that's cool!”
“Steve, oh my god, what did he say?”
Steve looks at the message, ‘I was trying to avoid the paps. Sorry, Stevie, they caught us.’ He responds quickly with an ‘It’s okay Eddie! I had a great time tonight!’ He narrates this all to Robin who is responding quite enthusiastically. “We can be famous by association, Steve!” She says in a “duh” tone of voice.” Steve rolls his eyes, “I think I’d rather just date him.”
He ends the call with Robin shortly after that and proceeds to text Eddie, punching in the faded sharpie written number on his forearm, Instagram DM’s weren’t very private according to Eddie, easily hacked or something like that. They text back and forth for a while, arranging a proper date in Eddie’s hotel room where they don’t have to be so discrete. 
Eddie’s back in the coffee shop the next morning, uniform intact, basically loitering until Steve is done with his shift. They head back to the hotel room, blatantly ignoring the photos that are being taken of them. Back in Eddie’s room, Steve hears Corroded Coffins music for the first time, it's good. No wonder they’re so famous. Steve shares that sentiment and much to his chagrin, Eddie teases him relentlessly about it. 
The internet knows of Eddie's new beau, and by extension, so does Dustin, who yells at Steve for not mentioning it sooner.
And if Corroded Coffin’s next album has more love songs than the others combined, well. We all know why.
inspired by @steddiealltheway's rockstar Eddie and clueless Steve fic!
6K notes · View notes
artemis32 · 3 months
Text
Locksley
yandere Batfam x reader
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yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months
also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested
word count - 4.8k
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mbe masterlist
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You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons. 
Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others. 
The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.
You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.
****
You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.
It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice. 
You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.
Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.
No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves. 
In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.
Now, years later, the sentiment had faded. 
You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor. 
Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.
That was your job, your purpose in life.
It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.
Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves. 
So you did.
And you never got caught. Not once. 
Until you did.
****
This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.
As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.
The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them. 
You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you. 
Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.
Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.
It made you sick.
How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.
At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.
You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.
The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued. 
Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you. 
At least it was nice to look at.
Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.
It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life. 
But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.
The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.
And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.
You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow. 
Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:
Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.
Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty. 
It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.
And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.
****
The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.
Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.
You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.
The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready. 
Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.
Rich people were fucking dumb.
They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.
People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.
You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.
Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.
Someone’s here.
You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.
Fuck.
It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.
If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed. 
You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.
Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.
When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.
The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?
One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.
Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.
As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking. 
And he turned to look right at you.
You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.
Fuck.
He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago. 
There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.
After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.
Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.
****
“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.” 
It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.
So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.
“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”
He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.
“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”
If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.
“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”
The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.
Your blood runs cold.
Robin.
You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.
“Don’t move.”
For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.
“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”
Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list. 
They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-
“How?”
Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”
You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.
“How did you find me?”
If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.
“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”
He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth. 
“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”
Your blood chills in your veins.
So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.
“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”
At that moment, you weigh your options. 
If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.
Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you… 
No. You couldn’t go with him. 
Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.
With your mind made up, everything else is easy.
You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.
Too slow. Faster. Move faster.
You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell. 
He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.
Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.
It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.
Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.
In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study. 
Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over. 
So no, you didn’t regret your decision.
This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.
****
“Who is she?”
“Her name is-”
“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”
Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.
“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”
Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Her address. What is it?”
Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.
“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”
He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.
“It does matter. She stole from us. She–” 
The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.
“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”
His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.
“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”
Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.
“Yes, Father. Of course.”
****
A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.
“Don’t.”
He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.
“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”
The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.
“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.
Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could. 
You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering. 
“Yes.”
He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.
You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.
“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”
Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–
Towards you.
“She’s awake.”
That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring. 
“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”
With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.
Bruce Wayne.
Bruce fucking Wayne.
…I’m so dead.
You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.
“Mr Wayne, I–” 
He holds up a palm, silencing you.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.
“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”
He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.
“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”
Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.
“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”
A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment. 
“Why is he so upset?” 
You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.
“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”
You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?
He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”
Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.
“If he’s Robin, then…?”
A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.
“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”
A choked noise dies out in your chest. 
Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?
His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.
You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.
“Why are you telling me all this?” 
He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”
Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.
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simpforboys · 3 months
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sweethearts nite
drew starkey x fem!youtuber!reader
summary: drew takes his girlfriend to Disneyland’s ‘Sweethearts Nite’
warnings: swearing, a bunchhhhh of fluff!!
first fic of 2024!! many more to come this wonderful year <3
happy valentine’s day to all of my valentines!!
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“hello beautiful friends! welcome back, or welcome, to my channel. my name is y/n and today i’m bringing you along to mine and my boyfriend’s date night!”
as you finished your introduction, you cut the camera off as you relished in the feeling of Drew’s hand placed on your upper thigh. his left hand gripped firmly on the wheel, you were playing music off of your phone.
Drew had gotten used to your filming, knowing that you upload videos every other day. considering he also made a living from filming, he understood the schedule perfectly.
it was one of the reasons your relationship was perfect. the understanding of each other’s schedules and patience when something doesn’t go as planned.
you recently just hit around four million subscribers, and due to so many people witnessing your life weekly, you and drew both valued your privacy deeply.
but since you’ve been doing youtube for three years, you’ve gotten comfortable about the thin line between privacy and reality.
“for some of you new friends, this is my boyfriend, drew.” you stated, turning the camera back on as you panned it over to drew driving.
“hey guys.” he smiled, briefly turning to wave before continuing to focus his attention on the road.
within twenty more minutes drew pulled into the mickey and friends parking lot. you were buzzing with excitement as you stepped out of the car, making sure to grab your purse and accessories.
as you went around the car you saw drew pulling up his black dickies, the waistband of his tommy hilfiger briefs exposed.
you playfully hooked your finger in his waistband, letting the material slap gently against his v line as he smirked down at you.
“really, baby?”
“are these the ones i got you?”
“i think so.”
you slipped your bag on over your shoulder as drew took your hand in his, beginning to walk towards the escalators.
you grabbed the camera, recording your shoes standing next to each other. you panned it up to drew, surprised to see him making a goofy face (which made you snort into the camera).
➽───────────────────❥
“we’re here!” you announced to your camera as the two of you approached the front gate. the february sun was minutes from setting as stars peeked out from the clouds.
you filmed drew scanning your tickets, thanking the lady before walking past the turnstile. a wide smile was on your face as the train station in front of you was covered in pink lights.
“i think we need to grab these lanyards and wristbands.” drew said, placing his large hand firmly on your waist as he guided you over to where workers were passing things out.
luckily, it was a tuesday night so it wasn’t as crowded as it could have been. the time on your watch read 6:18 in the evening.
you thanked the workers as you slipped on your lanyard, turning the camera towards you. drew was used to you vlogging in crowded places, and with the use of his height, he continued to guide you through the tunnel.
your back as firmly placed against his chest, his hands on your waist as you happily talked to the camera. it was a routine every time you vlogged, one that gave you butterflies every time he did it.
because as you’ve never asked him to help keep you protected, he just took it upon himself to hold and guide you so you can do your thing. it was one of the things you loved most about him.
as the crowd started to fizzle out as people ventured further into the park, drew moved to the left side of you as you filmed the courtyard in the middle of the entrance.
“the hearts are so pretty.” you awed, the pink, red, and purple lights brightening the buildings of mainstreet right behind.
you hadn’t realized drew stopped walking with you until you were a few feet ahead and set down the camera. when you turned around, a shy smile twisted its way onto your lips when you saw your boyfriend taking photos of you.
“why are you taking pics of me?” you asked shyly, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. he wrapped his arms around you, beginning to walk with your body trapped to his.
“because you’re my girl and i love having photos of my girl.”
you grinned at his words, your pupils dilated as you stared up lovingly at him. anyone who was watching the two of you would’ve noticed the look in your eyes.
drew pulled his phone out again, turning the two of you around so your back was to his chest. he held the camera up as he snapped selfies of the two of you, wanting to save the memory.
“do you want me to take photos of you?” a woman asked, noticing drew’s selfies.
“yes please,” you grinned. you handed the woman your own phone, tucking your camera away as you cuddled next to your man.
happy smiles were plastered on both your faces as you posted, a genuine grin on your face when Drew placed a loving kiss on your temple.
“thank you.” Drew smiled to the lady, taking your phone back and as you and him scrolled through the photos.
“you’re so cute.” you grinned up at him, kissing the bottom of his cheek as he smirked slightly.
➽───────────────────❥
as the night went on, you and Drew went on rides, ate some speciality food, and shopped.
“i’m sooooo full…. holy shit is that the valentine’s day bakery?” you gasped, breaking into a soft jog with Drew playfully rolling his eyes behind you.
his bank account was definitely taking a hit for the night, but he knew he would make the money back, but he couldn’t make memories like this with you after tonight.
so, he sucked down the guilt as he paid for a festive churro for you. you kissed him softly as a thank you, walking over to a table to set up your small tripod.
when the camera was rolling, you gave Drew one half of the churro. “okay, taste test time.”
Drew was staring down at you with an adoring look on his face, ready to take a bite. you both put the cinnamon-y sweet in your mouth, your eyes rolling back slightly from how delicious it was.
“this is the best churro i’ve ever had.” you tell the camera, showing off the decorated churro.
(unbeknownst to you at the time, you hadn’t realized how much love Drew was staring at you with until you saw the comments moments after the video published)
“what do you think, baby?” you ask Drew, turning to him as he nods his head.
“it’s good. little too sweet for me, but it’s good.” he tells you, copying your actions and showing off his half of the churro.
“holy fucking shit- are you Drew Starkey and Y/n L/n?” a teenage girl ran over, her phone out and ready for pictures.
you and Drew smiled at her, the camera still rolling. “hi, yeah we are. it’s so nice to meet you.”
you hugged the girl, feeling her squeeze you tightly as she then turned to Drew and hugged him.
“can i get a photo? you two are like my bi panic couple.” the girl overshares, clearly very excited.
you laugh softly at her words as Drew looks confused, but doesn’t let it effect him too much as he bends down for the photo.
the camera snaps and the girl thanks you both one more time before leaving.
“what the hell is bi panic?” Drew asks, making you giggle at his question.
➽───────────────────❥
as you two walked over to Pirates of the Caribbean and Haunted Mansion, a couple of people stopped and asked you and drew, you or drew, to take photos with them.
it made both of you happy to see your supporters and especially how nice everyone was.
a yawn escaped your mouth as you stood inside the line for Pirates, the smell of the water filling your nostrils.
“we need to get a candle of this scent.” you tell your boyfriend, leaning against the railing to rest your feet.
Drew can’t help but smile and shake his head at your comment. “you want a candle of everything.”
“hey, i love candles! what’s wrong with that?” you tease, feeling as he wraps his strong arm around your waist to pull you into his chest.
he placed a soft kiss on your temple, your cold skin against his warm one.
“you’re so pretty.” he murmurs softly in your hair, continuing to press kisses on your head.
“says you.” you murmur back, kissing his lips in return.
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celestialprincesse · 3 months
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Dinner 💌
Your eyes scan for John in the crowd, stopping on a muscled figure in a corner booth nestled at the quiet edge of the high end restaurant - conveniently a place that you'd wanted to try, but had neither the time nor money to enjoy a ninety pound steak. He only spots you when he registers your heels clicking amongst the chatter of the patrons, the sound of your gait something he'd inadvertently committed to memory upon your first day in his office.
"John." You acknowledge with a polite smile, heat running from your temples to the apples of your cheeks when he indicates for you to sit down beside him, and you do as you're told with a subtle nod, setting your purse at your side and producing a small leather notebook, a pen hooked over the front page for easy access.
"You're early, he notes, trying to hide the way his eyes roam over you and the floaty looking fabric of your dress, which he can't help but wonder what it would feel like between his fingers.
"Your watch is behind." You point at the dial before comparing it to your own, which you have a habit of making sure is correct down to the second, seeing as it is your job to be timely not only for yourself, but also your employer, and the rest of the task force who've unwittingly also become reliant on you to remind them of things they would otherwise forget. He gives a soft chuff before taking your wrist gently, seemingly not even realising the way he breaks the physical - professional barrier between the two of you as he focusses on changing the time on his expensive watch.
Once he's freed your wrist with a grateful smile angled down at you, you pick up the black, leather-bound menu, trying to hide the way your stomach drops and eyes widen at the frankly obscene prices of the plates here. "What makes a salad worth over sixty pounds?" you muse incredulously, trying to fill the silence that occupies the space between you and your boss.
"It's got truffle on it, Love." He notes, leaning into your space to point at the menu, not seeming to notice the way you flush beet red at the nickname.
"Still crazy." Your voice comes out as more of a petulant grumble than you'd like it to, which only makes him laugh affectionately in response. "You're not ordering the cheapest thing on the menu." John instructs with a casual dominance, raising an eyebrow in your direction when you widen your eyes at him like a deer in headlights, blinking slowly as you try and register his perceptiveness. You stutter - no - you flounder like some beached fish, face scarlet with embarrassment "I was not! - I! - What?" You squeak, completely failing at trying to seem indignant, hiding your face in your menu when he just smiles knowingly at you, placing a reassuring hand on the small of your back, which only serves to fluster you more.
"It's all paid for. Order the Wagyu and a magnum of Möet. Go crazy." He croons like trying to reassure a nervous child, never lifting his hand from your back.
His hand remains possessively in the little arch of your spine even as the men he's supposed to meet with arrive, shaking their hands and introducing you to them like you're so much more than just some secretary sent to babysit him by Laswell - which to him, you are. He's become reliant on you, not just to manage his affairs but also to brighten his days and remind him that not everyone in the world is awful, there are still people that are truly kind and good and lovely.
You do your job better than you know, not only taking minutes, but also distracting the men you dine across from with fabulous efficiency, batting your eyelashes at them in that way you don't even realise you're doing until you've practically seduced them into signing a contract they've hardly read - all whilst you enjoy your dinner and the one glass of champagne you've allotted yourself for the night.
John enjoys having you on his arm, not even realising the way you seem to automatically snuggle yourself into his side with every laugh he elicits from you. Occasionally he leans into your side, murmuring low in your ear, giving you goosebumps when his breath fans across your cheek, hand squeezing tighter around your waist. You know that there's two other people across the table from you, yet everything still feels strangely intimate despite the fact that he is very much still your boss, even outside of the workplace, you're technically still working.
As dinner winds down, the men order Bourbon and you flounder, asking the waitress for a herbal tea, totally flustered. You can't have a coffee now because you won't sleep, you can't order another drink because you're driving (and a massive lightweight) so you opt for a chamomile tea which you sip at whilst John and his colleagues finalise their deal over fancy spirits and cigars. Whilst the two men opposite the two of you speak, your boss leans into your ear, murmuring something about how lovely the whiskey is and how you should've ordered some. "M' driving." You mutter lowly to him, batting your eyelashes.
"Try some of mine then." He hums gruffly, lifting his glass to your lips, sending heat shooting down your spine as he tilts it so the bourbon floods your mouth and he floods your senses.
"S' nice."
"That's my girl."
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happy74827 · 5 months
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Bittersweet Blunders
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[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: In what was supposed to be the "perfect date" turns into an absolute dumpster fire of a night. Fortunately for Mike, you couldn't care at all about it.
WC: 4295
Category: Mega Fluff
So it seems that a lot of people like my Mike fics (yay), so I wrote another one because why not. At this point, my entire masterlist will just consist of this man, and I'm 100% here for it. Also, I don't know why fluff is the hardest for me to write, but this is my attempt at a full-on cuteness overload without a drop of angst (I apparently live for the drama), so we'll see how this goes.
『••✎••』
You were a very bubbly, cheerful person. You always thought that it was one of the best qualities that someone could have, and while it wasn't always the case, it always helped you in the past to brighten up anyone's day, as well as the other way around. You were always the life of the party, and you'd always make sure that everyone had a great time whenever you were with them.
It was probably one of the reasons Mike had liked you so much, though it had taken him quite some time to admit it to himself. He didn't want to believe it at first; after all, Mike was usually the guy who kept his feelings in, but as time went on, he couldn't keep denying the fact that he liked your presence and always wanted to be around you.
For him, you were a ray of sunshine in his otherwise very dull life. Sure, Abby had been a joy, and still is, but you... you were just special in a way that Mike couldn't explain. You had a certain quality about you that he couldn't describe, and he's never been able to figure out what it is that made you stand out so much to him. You were the complete opposite of him. His black clothes, your bright smile. His gloominess, your cheerfulness. His silence, your bubbly voice. His abrasive demeanor, your kind words.
Even though you were completely opposite of him in personality, there was one thing that you both shared in common. You were both attracted to each other in a way that you couldn't explain, even to yourself. But it was a feeling that you were sure of, and the fact that you're finally together made you realize why.
When he had started dating you, it had been like the clouds parted for him. The sky cleared up, and everything felt right again. He felt like his life was finally stitching itself back together, and suddenly, he and Abby were a lot closer, too. It was almost like a weight was lifted off of his chest, and he was finally able to breathe again.
Your relationship was very new to him, as you were the first relationship he'd ever had. But now that you were with him, he wouldn't have it any other way. You were just... you. You made him happy in a way that no one else had, and he was determined to make sure that you felt the same way.
Of course, you felt the same way.
For you, Mike was your best friend. He had been the one person who'd been able to make you smile in your worst moments. He was always there when you needed him, and you'd always made sure to do the same thing for him. He was your ray of sunshine despite him not acting much like one. You loved the little things that made him tick, like his strange fascination with coffee and the fact that he always had a blanket in the car with him, just in case he was tired or cold. It made him feel like home to you.
And it was exactly how Mike felt with you, too, obviously for different reasons, of course, but all the same. He loved every single thing about you, no matter what. Your personality, your voice, even the way you walk, he loved every single bit of it. The first time you two had kissed, it was almost as though fireworks were going off all around you both, and Mike could've sworn he heard angels sing as well.
You were a ray of sunshine to him, and now that you were in his life, he couldn't see himself without you. He loved you more than he could say, and he was determined to show that to you, always.
That's why he decided he would take the day off of work to plan out the perfect date for you two. He didn't know exactly what you were into; you always seemed to be good with anything, but he knew he had to try and do something nice. After all, you were worth it. You were the most special person in his life, second to Abby, of course, but special just the same.
So he set off to find you a nice place to have dinner, a thing neither one of you had done since the start of the relationship. You had usually just eaten at his place or gone somewhere that served coffee (somewhere more in Mike's price range), but he wanted something a bit fancier; after all, today was special, and he saved up enough to make it happen. He wanted you to have a nice day out, just like you always did for him whenever he had a bad day.
He eventually found you a place, a fancy Italian restaurant that he thought you would like, and made reservations for a place with a nice view of the sunset, just so you could watch it with him. It was going to be a great night.
Of course, it had been the complete opposite of what Mike had thought it would be. Two hours before the planned evening, the person covering his job for him just had to cancel on him at the last minute, leaving him to panic. He hadn't told you the surprise for the evening at all, so he had to make several, several calls just to find a replacement for his job and then to find a babysitter for Abby. Max... Well, Max wasn't around much anymore, and since you were the usual babysitter for Abby, it took Mike a while to find someone who was available, and even when he did, it took nearly twenty minutes for them to show up.
But he got it fixed and done in good time. His car was a little bit messy, and his "nice" shirt might have been a little wrinkly for the occasion, but to see the smile on your face when you got to his car made it worth it.
"You're wearing a tie," you commented, your face full of surprise as you hopped inside
"What can I say? It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing," Mike replied, turning the ignition and starting the car. He looked back at you, the smile on your face making his heart flutter just as much as it had the first time he'd laid his eyes on you. "Did I, um... You look great."
You were wearing a very nice dress, something that Mike had always loved on you, and it fit you very well. It was a light pink color, with a flowy skirt and a short-sleeved top, but it complimented you so well that he wondered why he hadn't seen it on you before. It made you look stunning, in his opinion.
"Thanks," you replied. "You look pretty handsome yourself, Mikey."
Oh, how he loved that nickname. It was one of the few things that Mike loved hearing you call him, even if it was in a joking matter. It made him feel special when he heard it, like you were just so happy to be around him that it was just another way of saying so. He smiled as he pulled out of the driveway, the engine rumbling below his feet. "So, you hungry?"
"Oh, yeah," you said, "I could totally eat."
Mike smiled. "Good ‘cause I found us the most amazing Italian restaurant, and I think you'll love it,"
Mike was right, of course. You did love it. The atmosphere was perfect, and the scenery was divine, with the sun setting in the distance and the colors it created splashed across the sky. Mike had even thought ahead to get a table right next to the window to give you the perfect view. Unfortunately, the sight from the entrance was the only view you got to see.
When it got to the hostess, it turned out that they had accidentally given his reservation to a family with four kids, and you and Mike were now stuck in between a large family with several children and the bathroom. The food had already been ordered and delivered to your table, but you didn't even get a chance to start your meal before you heard the sounds of a crying baby. And when you looked up, you were faced with a crying child who seemed to be a year or so younger than Abby, sitting on the table in front of you.
You tried to ignore it at first, hoping that they would fall asleep and stop crying, but the baby didn't seem to be willing to stop any time soon, and it seemed you weren't the only one who was annoyed by it. You glanced over at Mike and you realized that he looked about one second away from punching the baby and throwing it across the restaurant.
You decided to take action before he could do that.
"How's... uh, work going?" You asked, trying to make conversation as you sat up a little bit straighter and began to wipe your fingers clean, preparing yourself for whatever came next.
Mike didn't answer, instead choosing to grunt.
You decided to try and lighten the mood just a little bit. "It can't be that bad. You're still alive."
Just as the words left your mouth, the baby started crying even louder. You looked over at the family that was sitting in front of you and noticed that none of them looked like they were planning to do anything about it. Great parenting
"That baby might not be," he grumbled, not even bothering to keep his voice down anymore. "Even Abby and her tantrums don't make me want to run into traffic, and they're on a whole other level,"
"A crying child is not going to make you run into traffic, Mike," you replied.
"It might," he argued. "I might."
You laughed, shaking your head at the man sitting in front of you. "Have you always been this dramatic?"
Mike was quiet for a moment before shrugging and letting out a sigh. His annoyance allowed you to take a look at his features for a moment, something you hadn't really done for a while. Usually, when you two hung out, he was always so busy that you didn't really get to notice the difference in expression and stance he would usually have, but now that you were finally able to look at him, you noticed a slight change in him. He looked... tired, you'd say. Tired, but at the same time, happier than he usually was. You couldn't exactly tell how he was feeling at the time, probably complete annoyance because of the crying baby, but he did look like he was smiling just a bit more than usual.
And you loved seeing it. You loved seeing him happy, even if it wasn't the happiest situation that you two could've been in. You still wanted to see his smile, and you couldn't help but smile yourself at how happy he looked when he was around you, even with all the surrounding annoyance.
"Do you remember," you began, "when we first started dating? You were so nervous, and you were scared that you were gonna mess it up, and I said to you that there was no way you could ever do that, right?"
"I mean, it's not like you were lying," he shrugged, leaning back against his chair, picking up a glass of water, and taking a small sip. "I was a mess."
"Well, you still are a mess, a hot one but still... you got over it, didn't you?" You smiled.
Mike paused for a moment, placing his glass down on the table again. He was silent before he glanced up at you. His eyes were wide, and he almost looked... stunned. He was definitely surprised.
"It's not rhetorical, Mikey, but I'm going to take that as a yes," you continued.
"That was... that was different," he said.
"Well, yeah, of course it was," you replied. "That was a few months ago. Now it's a crying baby who you believe is ruining your life,"
He rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed by the whole thing. You knew that he wasn't actually upset; however, if he were, you'd have felt him shift in his seat like he always did when he felt uncomfortable or uncomfortable. But he hadn't moved a single bit. He wasn't even fidgeting. He just sat there and kept staring at you.
Mike never said anything, though, and neither did you. You just kept staring at each other, even when the baby eventually stopped crying. For a moment, there was peace, a sort of silent bliss that you couldn't exactly explain, and then the peace was suddenly ruined again.
Mike had wanted a refill of his drink, and when the waiter returned with a pitcher and many other drinks from various tables, the serving plate somehow made its way down Mike's shirt and all over his clothes, the various liquids from water to alcohol all splattered on his clothes. And Mike? Mike didn't even flinch. He closed his eyes and sighed, gritting his teeth and tensing up a bit, and you saw that he was clenching the sides of his chair with his hands, but otherwise, he didn't make any other movements, no reaction at all. Then, to make matters worse, the baby started crying again.
Mike and you both stared at each other again, your eyes wide and your mouths slightly parted. You knew exactly how Mike was feeling, and you wanted nothing more than to do something about it, but you didn't know what to do.
"Mike, do you—" you began, feeling really bad for him.
"I need to... go to the bathroom," he interrupted you, and you nodded in response. He stood up from his seat, walked around you and the other family, and then headed towards the bathroom. You were left to sit in your seat, staring at the family in front of you as they ate and chatted amongst themselves. You didn't say anything, but you weren't exactly happy with what was happening, either.
You glanced over to the bathroom door, hoping that Mike would come out of there soon so you could ask him if he was okay, but you were unable to leave. The waiter came back a few minutes later with a towel to help Mike clean off the liquid from his clothes, and once he had it in hand, you found the strength to leave your seat and follow Mike into the bathroom.
You didn't step inside, however, instead choosing to lean against the wall by the entrance. The bathroom was a lot emptier than the restaurant was, and it seemed a lot quieter, too, the only sound that you could hear coming from the faucet by the sinks. You stared at the door for a moment, just a moment, before calling out to the man inside.
"Mike, are you okay in there?"
It took Mike a moment to respond to you. "Uh... Yeah. I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine," you replied.
"Well, I am," he replied. He sounded annoyed.
"You don't sound like it," you commented.
"Well, what do you want me to say?"
You paused for a moment, glancing around the room as you thought of a response. You decided to just tell him what was on your mind. "Do you want to leave? We can go."
You heard the bathroom door open, and Mike stepped out from it, standing in front of you, his eyes staring straight at your own. He was soaked despite all the paper towels he must've used to dry himself off. You handed him the small towel you'd been handed, and he took it from you with a small nod. He ran it through his shirt and thighs for a moment before looking at you.
"You sure?" He asked with a pinch of hesitation in his voice. He looked nervous. No, he didn't look nervous. He looked... guilty. His eyes were sad, and he seemed worried about something. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right words.
You had a feeling what was going on in his mind, so you just took the lead for him. With a smile, you both returned to your seat momentarily to pay the bill and tip the waiter before making your way out to the parking lot. You climbed into the car, and Mike started the engine. He still had a very noticeable frown on his face as he turned to you.
"It looks like it's going to be a great night," he sighed, letting out a heavy sigh. His eyes shifted upwards to the clouds, and you noticed the very visible storm that was brewing in them. "Sorry. I guess I just... It didn't go the way I thought it would."
"It's still early," you replied, placing your hand over his. He looked back at you with wide eyes, clearly not expecting you to be as calm as you were. You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. "And I have the perfect idea of what we could do."
He raised a brow at you, his eyes suddenly looking curious. The frown was gone now and replaced with a small, barely visible smile. You had to resist the urge to hug him right then and there.
"Yeah? What is it?"
"You'll find out when we get there," you whispered and smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just listen to my directions. I'll be your personal navigator."
Your navigator skills were definitely off the charts that night, and even you were surprised you didn't get lost. You made some accidental wrong turns and had to double back once or twice, but other than that, you were able to get you and Mike to your destination just fine. The night sky was still covered with clouds, and there was a very faint sound of thunder in the distance, but you figured you had at least a good hour or so.
The view, though. You couldn't have picked a better spot to have. There was a tree right next to a small, grassy hill that you sat at, the only place where Mike and you could be comfortable while you stared up at the sky. You had Mike's emergency blanket, and he had his hoodie (that might have smelt like utter hell, but he refused to wear anything else after the incident earlier that night), and the stars. It was like the clouds had separated just to show you the beauty of the night sky, and the two of you were lucky enough to witness it. The sun was long gone, and the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds, its bright glow casting a shimmering reflection onto the grass below. It was a moment that you'd never forget.
"How's the date going so far now?" You asked Mike with a smile as you sat next to him. "Think this is an improvement?"
Mike shrugged. "Maybe I should stop planning the dates, and let you plan them from now on."
You smiled at him. "I like it when you plan the dates, Mike."
He frowned for a moment, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. "Really? Because there had been not one good one in the past... I dunno, two years? Even when we were still trying to work out the friendship to the relationship thing."
You shrugged, moving closer to him. "What can I say? I like the surprises, and you never were that spontaneous on your own."
"Is that what you like about me?" He asked. "My non-spontaneity?"
You glanced up at him, smiling as you took in his features again. You loved looking at him. He was handsome. And you loved the look in his eyes. They were filled with adoration, and they were looking straight into yours. He leaned down a bit and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"You have other qualities, too," you replied. “Good ones.”
"Like what?" He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin as he spoke.
"You make a great cup of coffee," you began, letting out a small giggle as he continued to kiss your forehead, moving slowly down towards your jaw. "And you're good at taking care of Abby. You can be funny if you try hard enough, and you're really cute when you smile."
Mike moved down towards your ear, gently nibbling on the lobe. His breath fanned over your skin, and you couldn't help but lean into him just a little. His hand slipped under your chin and gently pulled your head up, forcing your lips to meet with his in a soft kiss.
The first kiss was always special, in Mike's opinion. You were always so soft, so gentle, but also so firm, so loving. It was one of his favorite feelings, and he was so lucky to have you in his life, he couldn't believe it.
When you pulled away from the kiss, you didn't move too far away from him, resting your head against his shoulder instead. You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment, and he leaned his head against yours, his hand resting gently on your knee as you both gazed at the moonlit sky.
"Mikey?" You asked after a moment, your voice soft and gentle as you spoke. You felt his head move in response, and you felt him take in a deep breath.
"Yeah?" He asked.
You looked up at him, smiling as you did. "I think this is our best one yet."
He didn't say anything for a moment. He stared down at you with his usual blank expression, but after a few seconds, the corners of his lips quirked up, and he was finally able to break out into a smile, one that was so much brighter than the one that he had earlier.
He kissed you again, and you couldn't help but melt into the kiss. Your hands went to his shoulders, and his hands wrapped themselves around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. You never wanted to leave his side.
You loss track of time from there. You both were lost in the moment, in the stars, in the blanket, in each other, and before either of you knew it, you felt the slight raindrops pelt against your skin, and the wind was growing stronger. Your hair whipped in front of your face, and smacked Mike in the cheek, but he didn't seem to care much, too caught up in kissing you.
You eventually pulled away, looking at the man in front of you. "We should... we should get going. You brought the umbrella, right?”
“Yeah, it’s right here," Mike nodded, grabbing it from the other end of the blanket and placing it above the two of you as the raindrops grew heavier. The thunder was louder now, but you and Mike were far too engrossed with each other to really notice it.
At least, not until tragedy struck when he went to pull up the blanket. One big strum of thunder and a burst of wind from above caused Mike to lose his grip on the umbrella, which went flying through the air and out of his grasp. You both watched it as it soared in the air, almost like you were in a daze, and then you realized the horrible thing that had happened.
The umbrella was gone. You and Mike were in the rain, and there was nothing around you to provide you any sort of protection from the downpour. The blanket was soaked within seconds, as were the two of you.
Well, technically, Mike already was.
Mike's smile had disappeared from his face when the umbrella had flown away, and now his frown had returned, only this time, it was quite humorous. He was absolutely dumbstruck, and he was just staring at the umbrella as it flew away into the night. You tried to hold back your laughter, but it was difficult, especially with the look on Mike's face.
“Great. Just great," he grumbled, grabbing your arm while making his way back towards the car. "That's just the icing on the cake."
“It’s like we’re in a rom-com," you commented as you followed him, laughing even more. "You're the oblivious man, I'm the funny girl who helps you figure out your feelings. It’s the climax of the movie, we're both drenched, and then we kiss in the rain,"
Mike glared at you, but the look was not genuine. You could tell, and it only made you laugh even more. "Yeah, yeah, let's just get to the car."
The two of you ran towards the car, and Mike jumped inside the driver's seat. You quickly got into the passenger's side before the door shut closed, and you let out a sigh of relief. You took a moment to catch your breath, and then you turned to Mike, a smile playing on your lips.
“Just so you know, those are my favorite type of rom-coms.”
Mike rolled his eyes. "And just so you know, I hate rom-coms."
You leaned over to kiss his cheek, letting out a soft giggle. "Better buckle up then, Romeo. After we find a towel and get home, we're watching the best rom-com of all time."
He rolled his eyes again, but you could tell that the small smile on his lips was genuine this time. "Let's just go before the car floods,"
You smiled, leaning back in your seat. "Sounds good, honey.”
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