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faevi · 7 months

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GOJO SATORU WAKES YOU UP - (smut)

Scenario: Gojo Satoru promised to help you wake up on time and fix your sleeping schedule. He decides to use his own methods. (SMUT).

Word Count: 3,890.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), somnophilia, cunningulous, finger sucking, gagging, tasting of oneself(?), fingering, squirting, praise, a little bit of degradation / humiliation, a sprinkle of possessiveness, hair pulling, marking with hickies, pet-names, slight size kink, gojo being hot?

Please let me know if i missed anything - if i have, it’s genuinely unintentional.

Note: As you can see, I'm slowly getting back into writing cause I miss it. So it might be a liiiiittle bit rusty. This is my first Satoru piece! I plan to write many more. This isn't proofread / edited - So please just ignore any mistakes lkdfgfd. I also tried to follow the aesthetic trends of how everyone posts their writing pieces?? Editing is hard. I hope someone reads this and likes it (: Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru’s warm gaze never left the bed. Even as he blindly wraps the leather strap around his wrist, long fingers sliding the strap through the metal half circle, prick poking into the hole and tightens the watch. He decided to let you sleep in for an extra hour as he prepared himself for work. It’s difficult for the tall male to not indulge in spoiling you, especially when you look so cute curled up and drool seeping out onto the pillow.

Still…. He made a promise to both himself and you that he’d help you improve your sleeping schedule and limit sleeping in. It pains his heart whenever he watches you get upset from wasting hours of your day. Satoru gently sprays his cologne, dabbing it against the sides of his neck and wrists before setting the fancy-looking bottle down amongst your many that he’s purchased for you. He checks the time on his watch, already unbuttoning the few buttons of his white dress shirt. It’s 8:10 AM and he has to leave soon.

The white-haired male opts out on waking you up in a usual loud-playful manner of his. Simply because, well, you’re looking too cute. Just how you manage to coax him into letting you sleep in without even having to lift a finger. Satoru approaches the shared bed, feet silent against the carpet floor before he lowers one knee against the mattress, feeling it sink beneath his weight as he leans down, large hand sliding from your waist to hug around your stomach.

“Baby, it’s time to wake up..” Satoru speaks softly, voice his usual low and soothing. He scatters kisses against your bare shoulder, fingers gently brushing against your stomach before his palm presses against it. You only stir a little in your peaceful slumber, curling up further and pitifully trying to pull the blankets over your head. Satoru snorts, endeared by how you are just not a morning person at all. His loving attempt was a failure and he watches as you continue to sleep, wondering what you’re dreaming about.

Strands of white hair fall over his crystal blue eyes as he presses his bigger form against you, almost smothering you but he keeps his weight off of you, trying to peek at your face beneath the blankets. “If you wake up now, I’ll take you out for breakfast.” Satoru offers, hands on your body stopping as he waits to see if that temptation would have gotten a response. Nothing. Only soft breathing. ‘How can someone be such a heavy sleeper’, he thinks in almost disbelief. Satoru rolls his eyes before he stands up at the edge of the bed, hands tucking into the pockets of his black slacks. The sadistic, playful side within him calls to rile you up in the early morning by yanking the blankets and dragging your body off of the mattress but…

His heart just squeezes at the sight of the bundle of blankets forming barriers around you. Nothing is tucked in tightly, thanks to the fun last night and so instantly, an idea pops into his head. He has access. Satoru is often fantasizing about you. Hell, it feels like it’s every second of the day. It’s a miracle that he’s even able to focus on work or crack a joke to annoy his co-workers. Satoru is just the best at multi-tasking and right now, he craves to devour you and wake you up… eventually. Technically it’s multi-tasking.

Satoru bends over, lifting the blankets up cautiously from the bottom until he could see your bare legs. His heart begins to thump faster with excitement at the thought of touching you when you’re at your most vulnerable; cock twitching in his slacks. He flicks the blankets over to keep your legs exposed, hands rolling up the sleeves of his tight fitted dress shirt before he lowers his upper body onto the mattress, one hand guiding the blankets over his head until he finds himself trapped between your legs, hungry gaze falling onto your pussy.

Even with the darkness clouding around him from the blankets, Satoru can see everything. Your cunt already lightly coated in a light sheen of slick. Appearing so inviting for the taller male. He groans quietly, large hands cupping the back of your thighs and pauses for a moment. You don’t even squirm from the new touch. Whatever you’re dreaming about must be good. That, or your trust in him is so deep that it reaches sleep. He guides your legs over his broad shoulders, shifting himself so his knees are planted on the carpet, the length of your legs staying over his shoulders as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across your smooth skin. His love-marks from last night only encourage him, lips latching onto your warm flesh to suck harshly to form another; now starting to feel you squirm a little.

You whine softly in your sleep, trying to roll onto your side but it fails as his strength easily keeps you flat on your back; body thinking nothing of it as you continue your peaceful slumber. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, though lips curled in amusement. “A sleeping beauty, all mine for the taking.” Satoru mumbles beneath his breath, fingers squeezing your flesh roughly before inching up until his long index finger glides between your folds. It slides so easily. Wet, already. He groans, pressing his crotch against the edge of the bed to try and contain himself. Invading your wet needy cunt with his cock would definitely wake you up but he thinks you need to earn it and you’re unable to do so in such a slumber.

Satoru is always in absolute awe when it comes to the sight of your pussy becoming so easily aroused just from his touch. Even as you sleep. Two of his fingers continue to cautiously glide up and down between your slick covered folds, grinning a little at noticing your thighs quivering from the careful touch. Even your hole clenches around nothing in response, desperate to be filled. Your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head into the pillow to lazily nuzzle against it in your sleep, inhaling the scent of the white-haired male that lingers. “Fuck, baby..” Satoru mumbles, two of his fingers pressing against your folds until they part to reveal your sensitive clit and needy hole. Strings of slick become visible and Satoru is always easily tempted. He drags his tongue between to break the strings, pleased by tasting you further.

With silent frustration towards the blankets hiding your face, Satoru swiftly yanks them off until the pair of you are exposed, blankets discarded on the floor. He coos mockingly as you begin to shiver from the cold. “Poor baby girl, needs warming up.” He whispers, toned arms wrapping around your thighs to keep them in place over his shoulders. Your inner thighs squeeze against his face, piercing blue eyes focusing on your sleeping face as he quickly dives in to devour you, growling lowly. His lips pressing sweetly against your sopping pussy, wet muscle dragging between your folds, moans muffled as he taste your sweet juices on his daring tongue. His mind going wild with the idea of what he could do to you as you sleep so deeply. It tempts him so much that Satoru thinks of testing further other times.

A whimpering moan parts from your sleeping lips, face scrunching up as pleasure spreads through your body from your core, fist bunching the sheets up. You stir in your slumber only slightly and for once, Satoru is glad you don’t wake up instantly. He feels powerful, being able to touch and kiss you when you’re completely vulnerable but still feeling the absolute bliss that is his tongue. Short nails dig into your thighs, pressing his face further between your legs as his open mouth makes out hungrily with your cunt. He could barely breathe from how firmly he’s pressing his face into your core, only inhaling the scent of your sex. His tongue laps up your sweetness before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to your throbbing clit, sucking harshly and tongue rubbing against the bud until he feels your legs tense up and tremble, pitifully trying to contain the ecstasy you begin to feel from his eager mouth never parting from your lower lips.

Tongue swirls around the nub lightly between his needy kisses, juices smearing across his handsome face. Blindly, your hand reaches down towards the source, fingers threading through his white hair. You begin to wake up. Slowly. Not truly able to get out of your slumber but, you feel the sweet pleasure wash over you constantly and your mind begins to seek for answers. “A-Ah… Wha— Nn…” You moan out, unable to form words from the cloud of sleepiness hanging over your head. What is going on? Something feels so good… You could barely lift it off of the pillows, eyes glancing down. You feel face get hot when realisation starts to hit you; Satoru is gazing back up at you. The piercing blue eyes wide and manic with a mixture of excitement & hunger. He’s eating you out like a starved man.

Satoru barely lifts his mouth to speak, voice dripping with lust and sounding breathless. “Good morning, princess. Finally awake, huh? Took me to touch your needy cunt for you to wake up? Filthy. My dirty little slut, hm?” The degrading words slip out through a teasing purr, prompting your free hand to pathetically try to cover your face. You feel your heart flutter, head dizzy with lustful thoughts. Drowsiness hands over your head but, it doesn’t stop your cravings starting to form. You couldn’t deny that the sadistic ways Satoru shows only causes your pussy to clench around nothing; wishing to be stretched out by his thick, pulsating cock.

“Nn, ‘toru, please—”

“No cock for you.”

He could practically read your mind by knowing you too well. That’s what you get for refusing to wake up in the first place, you suppose. Especially since you begged him to help you fix your awful habit. Satoru may love to spoil you, shower you in love and pleasure but, he can be almost scary with how firm he is with punishments. This isn’t the worst and so you accept it. You pout sleepily, eyes droopy as you watch the tall male bury his mouth against your wet cunt against, flustered by the sounds of just how excited your body is. It’s an addicting sight to see. A tall man lapping up your slick, groaning quietly from the delicious taste of you. He could taste you for hours on end if he could. Moans of his name part from you as you feel his tongue rub relentlessly against your pulsing clit, slurping loudly as his lips move against your folds, drinking every drop that dares to seep out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Satoru groans, lips dragging down until his tongue teases your hole. You see stars, gasping sharply as you pull on the strands of his silky white hair.

Satoru groans from the ache he feels, head tilting back away from your hand to feel more of the painful tug, tongue licking over your fluttering hole, gently prodding at it. You anticipate it and, that’s why Satoru pulls away. He’s kneels up and grins down at you, admiring the way your body trembles so cutely beneath him. Your slick is dripping down his chin, coating his lower face. Your face falls from the loss of pleasure, attempting to whine in complaint. “Satoru, come on…” It does nothing, asides from making his cock strain even further against his slacks. Satoru takes his sweet time, wiping his face with his hand, watching as a string of your mess connects his fingers together.

“Dirty girl.” He comments before bringing his hand towards your face. “Open wide.” Satoru orders, voice smooth and instantly, you part your lips to happily take his long fingers into your mouth. Even this is spoiling. Satoru knows you have a wild fetish for his hands and so, if it’s not his cock that you can take; you’ll eagerly take his fingers down your throat. Your needy moans are muffled as you suck your own sweetness off of his fingers. The pads of his fingers press against your soft wet muscle, sliding them further down and watches intently as you swallow around them, his gaze darkening. Your throat muscles constrict around the invasion, causing you to gag audibly but you continue to suck like the filthy whore you are for this man.

“So good for me, aren’t you? Taking everything I give you.” He speaks soothingly, his free hand caressing your stomach. His other hand continues to slide long, slender fingers in and out of your mouth. You whimper, looking up at him with an ‘innocent’ gaze as you continue to obediently suck, only able to taste yourself, few droplets escaping down your chin. Satoru feigns calmness, checking the time on his watch. You couldn’t help but think how hot it is when he even checks the time. You’ve fallen that deep for the tall male. He’s definitely going to be late to work. Frankly, he doesn’t fucking care. They need him more than he needs them. What he truly needs? You. Always. Every shape and form. Still, this isn’t about him and so with every fibre of his being, Satoru ignores his cock, even though it throbs badly & craving to be touched.

“If you promise me to wake up properly when I wake you, I’ll let you come.” Satoru promises, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, thumb swiping gently against your lower lip. “P-Please, I promise! I’ll wake up on time, I swear.. I’ll listen to you, always. Please.” You beg, voice raspy from the lack of talking and having fingers deep down your throat. “Okay, baby~.” He coos, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your soft tiers, unable to deny how cute you are when you beg for him. You could smell is heavenly cologne gently waft over you from how close he is. One of your favourite scents. “Still, no cock.” He whispers breathlessly against your lips, hand trailing down to between your legs. You pout at him from denying you his cock once more, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close.

He lovingly rubs his nose against yours, obliging your clinginess by keeping his bigger form pressed against you in an embrace, scattering kisses against your jawline as his long fingers meet your needy core once more. He doesn’t tease you by dragging out his time with you, two of his fingers rub against your quivering hole before finally pushing in slowly. They slide in so easily. Even if it’s just his fingers, Satoru groans at the feeling of your tight, velvety walls cling around his digits, squeezing. Your breathing becomes erratic from feeling the sweet stretch around his digits; nothing compared to the entire length of Satoru’s thick cock but, his fingers still feel so heavenly inside of you. You briefly wonder if you could just live your life with a part of him always inside of you.

You’re clinging onto him, upper body rising off of the bed and his free arm wraps around you to keep you pressed against him, soft lips still attached to your jawline, sucking firmly enough to leave a bruise. Another possessive mark to wear with pride. His long fingers pump deep inside of you, feeling them drag along your warm slick walls as they push in and out. Moans just spill from you and Satoru feels so damn aroused just from how needy and precious you sound. Your slick already dripping onto the sheets as he continues to pound his fingers into your tight cunt roughly, angling them until—

“Oh!” You gasp sharply when a jolt of ecstasy rushes over your entire body, upper body jerking upwards from the sudden sensation. Satoru knows where to find your sweet spot quickly and is already eager to abuse it until he witnesses pretty tears in your eyes, sobbing his name out over and over like your own prayer. The white-haired male keeps you trapped beneath his large frame, plunging his fingers desperately, rubbing against your g-spot and keeping his blue eyes focused on your visage. Fuck, it really turns him on to see your face scrunch up and mouth hanging open as you’re unable to contain yourself, crying out for him.

You choke on a sob, toes curling against the crinkled sheets and bare breasts jiggling from the impact of Satoru’s fingers moving, encouraging your hips to move as you grind down onto them. You feel complete bliss, not able to feel flustered like usual from the wet squelching sounds of your throbbing pussy. Pleasure in the form of electricity just shoots through your body, trying so hard to contain yourself by tensing up. Satoru knows you’re pathetic when it comes to that. It’s adorable, really. He enjoys watching you try to hide how good it feels before you’re babbling out his name, screaming for him.

Just as you are now. From his fingers alone. You bite down on his shoulder, trembling hands holding onto him as you cry out for him, tears glued to your long pretty lashes. Your stomach is feeling so hot and tight, throbbing walls clenching around his relentless fingers. “Sweet girl, need to come?” Satoru chuckles softly, warm breath fanning against the side of your face. The free arm holding himself up aches a little but that is nothing compared to his strength. Though, he knows you’d probably love being smothered by his larger body; Satoru selfishly wants to witness it all. Witness you come undone by just his digits.

You whimper, deliberately squeezing around his fingers to coax out a grunt from him. It’s true. He can read you so well because you really do need to let go. Be broken in by the man. There’s an unspoken rule between you both and that is waiting on his permission. He loves how obedient you get for him in the bed. So fucking cute and sweet. He drags it out a little longer, not quite done with you. He grinds his fingers into you, now pressing his palm against your sopping pussy and makes contact with your overly-sensitive clit.

“Ah, fuck! Please!” You plead breathlessly, a hand coming down to weakly hold onto his wrist but neither of you refuse to stop him. Satoru peels himself off of you, creating more distance between your body and you could see his eyes cloud darkly with desire for something. “Come for me.” Satoru orders, free hand pressing against your stomach, the fingers deep in your core now rapidly moving up and down. You pant heavily, feeling your high swiftly approaching as you try to lean up on your elbows, thighs squirming. Everything feels so damn hot and sensitive, it’s a miracle you’re not snapping your legs shut on his hand as you usually can’t help it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuu—‘Toru!!” You cry out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure now constantly crash down over your body, leaving you trembling hard, eyes rolling. Satoru is quick to slide his fingers out to watch the heavenly sight he’s been craving for; you squirting. Fuck, he thinks. He’s panting himself as your sweet juices spurt out in lots, gushing hard all over the bed and his work slacks. “Squirting all over me, filthy girl.” He groans, not daring to blink. ‘Do not dare miss a moment’, he thinks. Your hips snap upwards, chasing the addicting high as your wetness continues to spill out. Tears escape, sobbing out for the white-haired male, body feeling so hot and tingly.

Satoru coos at the adorable sight of you coming undone from his mouth and fingers. Large hands caressing along your sides, not daring to hold you down through your orgasm. He enjoys it far too much as you tremble and cry for him. “Good girl..” He praises, one hand coming to stroke your hair, peppering kisses against your bare shoulder. His office clothes are a mess now, your fluids soaked in patches against his black slacks. He didn’t care. He loves you too much. Satoru lays next to you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in and lips cautiously brushing away your pretty tears, mixing in with the taste of your sweetness that lingers on his tongue. You slur out a whine when you feel his tongue against your face, body still trembling gently as it naturally comes down from the high. You feel so sensitive. No one else has ever made you feel anything this good until Satoru.

Satoru…

You just always crave to be with Satoru. Body, soul, heart & mind. This is where you belong. You lean back into his loving embrace, smiling from the multiple kisses that he presses to the top of your head, trying to look up at him through droopy eyelids. You could feel his bulge pressing against your backside. “Well, I’m awake now.” You joke sheepishly, prompting the male to snort and roll his eyes. “Didn’t take much to wake you, just my face buried between your legs. Should have tried that from the start, knowing how needy you are for me.” Satoru teases sweetly, lips curled to form a cocky grin. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, rolling over to bury your face into his firm chest, slowly gliding your hand down towards his crotch. His large hand smothers yours, stopping your movement and you pout. He’s still firm on the ‘no cock’ rule this morning for refusing to wake up, much to his dismay. His length aches from no action. You press an apologetic kiss to his broad shoulder, voice quiet.

“Don’t you need to leave for work? You’re already late.”

“Nah, they can wait a little longer. I’m with my girl.”

You smile at that, always feeling spoiled by him. You giggle softly, ignoring how sticky your legs feel as you tangle them with. He gazes fondly at you, arm draped over your side. His sweet girl. All his. He presses his lips to your cheekbone. It’s moments like these, that you really adore. Silence can even be comforting with the white-haired male. Satoru is in love with you. The warmth in his eyes will never fade, even if he’s feeling particularly nasty to ruin you in bed. His crystal blue eyes refuse to leave you, fingers splaying across your naked back, nails dragging over the hot skin. He clears his throat, trying to bite back a smug expression.

“So, Y/N. Dick for dinner tonight?”

You burst out with laughter, nose scrunching slightly. “Come on.” You say, sitting up and taking hold of his hand, fingers interlocking. You could feel your dried up slick causing his hand to become sticky. “Washing hands and breakfast first. I want your famous pancakes.” You express with a loud kiss to his cheek. Satoru puffs out his chest proudly before helping you off the bed, unbothered by the still wet patches on his slacks. It’s a pleasant reminder, after all.

“Anything for my princess.”

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betterfettered · 1 year

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Hello I am ✨ anon the new anon thst you called kirakira :) I wish I could give yoy a follow and like your posts but my mun frequently checks my phone I gonna be dead if she finds out I read dark content💀

Anyway your writting is very good It gives off like a very detailed world view type of sense.

I hope I am not stressing you but I have a question that what if Satans liking started as love rather than dark desires. But like because of rejection he turns more forceful?

He forces reader but he also wants that genuine bit of love that every other happy couples have?

Like Satan truly does love the reader/mc but he can't stand rejection? Or can he stand rejection?

Also on like reader is a mortal and since Satan genuinely loves reader would he turn her immortal?

I am curious bc even after playing obey me for quite a while I couldn't really figure out Satan ni matter what.

It's a lot of questions but don't push yourself and stay safe ^^

Mama checks ur phone huh sparkle anon? 🧐 are you a minor? My blog is strictly not for minors. I won't block/ignore you because I do know people older than me who have moms that go through their stuff, but if you are younger than 18, please out of respect for my wishes do not interact with (or preferably even read) anything on my blog. 🥰

(Gn!reader x AMAB!Satan)(angery man)(noncon touching)(18+ readers only please, mdni)[This is fetish content and sexual assault is disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

It had been a small mistake , an oversight on Satan's part, really. He hadn't even physically harmed you - at the end of a particularly long day, a headache throbbing in his skull, he'd rounded a corner in the House of Lamentation while carrying a stack of books and then bumped into you. He didn't remember much after the books tumbling from his arms. His memory resumed with Mammon, in his demon form, holding him by the shoulders, telling him he'd better snap out of it. He was still seething, of course, but didn't have a good explanation for why you were sobbing, why the windows were broken and the furniture broken into shards.

He knew that he must have gotten angry, really angry, but was what he had done really worse than what Belphie had done? Because these days, you had no problem talking and laughing with the youngest, following him dauntlessly into the attic, while you did everything in your power to avoid being alone with Satan: sitting on the other end of the table from him during meals, coming late to classes you both shared so someone would take the seat beside him before you arrived, and, worst of all, clinging to Lucifer in groups.

If only he had not fallen for you. In general it didn't bother him in the slightest if someone did not like him, and maybe if he fancied someone a little less sweet than you were, it would not be so maddening. But it was painful seeing how warm and supportive and playful you were with everyone else. Even after he'd apologized, you were like frozen cardboard around him, while Asmo being genuinely creepy (at least to him) and running his hands all over you while purring perverted things only made you giggle.

He found himself staring in the mirror more and more, wondering if there was really so much wrong with him that you could more than bare Lucifer and hardly speak a word to him without your hands starting to shake, even if he held them in his hands and promised there was nothing to be afraid of. No amount of seductive speech craft or casual conversation or even apologies seemed to make you any less uneasy around him. You always clung to someone else when he approached.

Was he really that bad? Was there really no way to love him?

After a while of this, a while that felt like an eternity to him, he encountered you early in the kitchen one morning. He had no problem waking early, so he picked a day that you were making breakfast when everyone else was still asleep. He spent quite a bit of effort on cloaking his presence before he approached the kitchen, just so he could have a moment of you to himself: the way your mouth moved when you were focusing, the way you gripped the giant eggs you were cracking, the little noise you made if a shell made it into your food. A perfect symphony of you, caught in a bubble of its own; lovely as it was, he could not resist shattering it by wrapping his arms around your waist, his nose planted to the top of your head.

You gave a little yelp, dropping the spatula you'd been holding, and then struggled to turn and face him.

"Oh, Satan!" You gasped.

"Good morning," he replied. "I wanted to see you."

"I-" you started, trying to shrink away. But behind you was the stove, fires still blazing, and his nails were starting to dig into your sides. You were scared of him hurting you, so you held still and listened to him talking.

"Does it bother you? That I wanted to see you?"

"Not at all."

"You're a terrible liar." He sighed, his expression growing more sullen. "The way you look at me..." he started, unsure where his words were headed. "I do not at all like it."

"Don't be angry," you pleaded, and he responded by pressing his mouth to yours, hard, gripping your chin and leaning you backwards until the smell of your hair singeing filled the air. When he let you go, he could see the places on your jaw where his fingerprints were blooming into bruises, the terror in your now teary eyes, and the stress he'd inflicted on you. Most of him felt guilty for his desire overcoming his consideration for you, and that was the part of him that pulled away, grasping the ends of your hair in his palms to extinguish it. But there was still a small part of him that felt gratified by your pain: inflicting suffering onto you felt good somehow. Making you even a little as miserable as you had been making him for all this time seemed to lighten the weight he felt on his shoulders.

If only he could have known how much he would succumb to that feeling.

#obey me satan #obey me #yandere satan #yandere #tw noncon #tw non con #yandere x reader #satan x reader #cw noncon #tw: noncon #Omswd #omswd x reader #betty fetty

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kikooq · 1 year

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Hello! i am Kikoo this is my first post on this platform. I hope you guys will like my story or something like that.... I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT I'LL ADMIT THAT I'M A LITTLE AFRAID OF PUBLISHING IT.

But I will break through!

I also want to add that for any mistakes I am very sorry. English is not my native language.

I am very happy to accept requests!

I will mainly publish in the genshin impact topics. But I think I would be able to write something beyond that

It is possible that works will appear rarely/delayed but I will try to be fast!

I hope I've managed to convey at least a little bit of Xiao's character here....

Xiao is a bit of a tsundere at one point.

ೃ⁀➷ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ☄. *. ⋆

╰┈➤Give me your precious time

{Xiao x reader}

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

The beautiful ignored flower of the world

That's what you were from an early age children as well as adults ignored you. But you coped a lonely child without parents in the big world. You played among the children of mother nature

Wonderful creations of your imagination surrounded you. One day a woman at a young age caught you in the act when you were stealing a meat bun.

- Hey you, how can you steal my goods so unpunished!

The woman only now noticed that the thief was a little girl.

- Didn't your parents teach you not to steal?

-Just where are your parents?

She said looking for your guardians with her eyes.

The child looked dully at the woman.

- I am alone

You say when the surprised lady reciprocates the way you look at her.

The young woman took you in you told her everything. Years of loneliness you finally have something you've been missing all this time. Not long ago a woman you didn't know and now your foster but loving mother who prepares your meals puts you to sleep giving you the gift of picking her beloved rose flower kissing your forehead. Together you read beautiful tales you go on picnics. You relish the taste of rose tea. She is with you when you injure your knee tripping over a small pebble. Silencing your cry he bandages your knee.

- Next time please be careful baby....

Says the worried mother allowing herself a weak smile.

- i will be careful! But I don't promise...

A slight giggle comes out of your mouth at the last words.

Mother finishes dressing your knee you quickly break out catching the kite she bought you.

Many years have passed since then

You are an adult. Your loving mother is dead you are alone again. People started gossiping about you you don't know why. Someone decided to fast a rumor about your resemblance to a certain Adept. You heard a lot from people about him his story was terribly sad. You knew about his eternal loneliness that you shared. You decided that you would try to convince him of your presence. You can honestly admit that you dream of forming a friendship with someone so that someone would give you at least a little of their precious time. You realize that Adept is not friendly and most mortals are afraid of him. If he is not interested you will try to convince him. He has a lot of things on his mind. That's how you know he doesn't have much time he's busy!

But you are not quick to give up but you are not an intruder.

You came to Wangshu inn supposedly this is where you can meet him much without thinking you go.

You head towards the woman wanting to order almond tofu

- Good morning could I order almond tofu?

The woman smiles pleasantly answering you

- of course! I'll serve it right away

You return the smile, trying to imitate her facial expressions. Despite your character, you don't think it's important, but it's worth it when interacting with people.

Finally you get your almond tofu and head straight for the terrace. Unfortunately you don't see anyone or a living soul. But you feel eyes on you.

You are so selfish that you say his name without thinking that he could be saving someone's life at the moment.

- Adeptus Xiao

Not a second passes and he appears next to you and yet far from you.

- you don't need help

Approves adeptus well he was absolutely right.

- yes but give me some of your time I know you were here before I called you. I have tofu?

You add hesitantly allowing yourself a small smile.

You know that the adept is only sitting with you because you brought him tofu. When it eats between you there is silence neither of you decides to say a single sentence. But it is a comfortable silence nonetheless you finally decide to speak up.

- Would you donate a little of your precious time by accompanying me?

The adept had just finished eating his tofu

He looked unmoved but believe that deep down he was surprised.

- please what a stupid question I don't have time for such trivialities.... Do you know who you are talking to?

He said inveighing at the last few words he furrowed his eyebrows.

He turned around and disappeared. That doesn't mean he didn't come back, and he always did. Some time has passed since then. Now every day you bring him his favorite tofu sometimes you even prepare it yourself.

He eats when you stare into his beautiful amber irises. When you are together everything else is unimportant disappears like the sun at night. All that matters is you can't define the feeling you experience every time he weaves a flower between your hair. When I try to hide the blush blooming on his face he points out your every offense you burst out laughing loudly. When I try to teach you self-defense he is strict and demanding. You help him understand his own feelings. And he appreciates it soon notices that he has a crush on you. But Too late you already know this before he notices it. However, you don't tell him maybe it's cruel when you know he wouldn't choose to let the truth come out. So you wait patiently. Your surprise when one day he wordlessly drinks himself into your mouth. Since then you have found encouragement and understanding in each other without words. Plenty of mortals say that curiosity is the first degree to hell. Your curiosity made a lonely innocent soul doomed to eternal suffering find peace and understanding.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :

✧. ┊ADDENDUM

✧. ┊- Verr goldet knew what you came for.

✧. ┊- Xiao definitely opts for small gestures rather than physical contact.

✧. ┊- Reader is not quite human you can infer this from the often scrolling inferences of how many years have passed since the death of her adoptive mother.And yet she is still young.

✧. ┊- Reader's foster mother's name was Agapi.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Publication data 17.02.2023

#genshin impact #xiao x reader #x reader #adeptus xiao #adeptus xiao x reader #xiao genshin x reader #xiao genshin impact

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ellana-ravenwood · 4 years

Text

“My fake boyfriend is a billionaire ?!” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : After a few shitty weeks of everything going wrong, you somehow find yourself faking a relationship with the one and only Bruce Wayne.

That’s it. I did it. After 3 years posting stories on this platform, I finally succumb to one of the biggest fanfiction cliché of all time haha. The infamous fake boyfriend trope. And I really hope you will like it :

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

The Gap Year of Disaster

Today, you were an utter mess, and you couldn’t care less.

You know, this kind of days where you wish you would just have stayed in bed ?

Where everything goes wrong and you just want to hide under your blanket and pretend you don't have any responsibilities ?

Well today…Today was most definitely this kind of day.

It was suppose to be your first day at an exciting new job and you were so psyched about it, that you hadn’t been able to sleep all night.

You finally fell into a deep slumber during the very early hours of the day, and…

Of course you woke up late ! You didn't have time to take a shower, or to do your make-up nicely or even to brush your hair. But worst of all you didn't have time to get coffee !

When you got out with your bike….it was pouring outside. Ah but of course, because when one thing goes wrong everything has to follow. Everything WILL go wrong. Murphy's law or some stupid things like that !

It's in those moments you wish you had a car ! Because when it rained in Gotham…It felt like Noah was ordered to built another ark !

So, sleep deprived, soaked, in a bad mood and looking like a mess, you managed, by some miracle, to arrive at your job on time.

Only to discover that this wasn’t at all what you were expecting. It was NOT what was promised to you, which was experience in an exciting workplace and a way to make the most of it.

Instead, it was a desk job where you ran errand for everyone. Amazing.

This was supposed to be your first try at “real life”, this was why you took that gap year from college.

“I want to find myself, find who I really am !” You told everyone around you, ignoring those who were negative and telling you you should finish your study first.

Now, as you were stuck in a tiny cubicle with an endless list of coffee orders you had to get for everyone else, you felt like maybe they were right, and that this wasn’t quite the way you were going to “find yourself”.

Then again, wasn’t it through hardship that this sort of things unlocked ? Wasn’t it with great determination and knowing how it was to struggle, that you were going to thrive ? That’s what they said in TED talks dedicated to “success”...

So far in your life, things had been rather normal. Not particularly easy, but not hard either. You grew up in a small town in New Jersey, no troubles on the horizon. You then moved to Gotham for college as you had a scholarship for Gotham’s University, and as you were about to start your third year you sort of questioned wether or not this was your path...

One of your favorite professor told you to maybe take a gap year. A few semesters off, to think things through. Taking advantage of it to do some soul searching and try to know what you really wanted and...It sounded wonderful !

That’s when you started to have job interviews in many different fields, and it took you three months to finally find something. Three very stressful months of wondering how long you could live off of your measly savings, and wether or not you’d have to move back in with your parents (anything but that !)...Not a very good start to that gap year for sure.

And when you landed what you thought was going to be a great job, things definitely were looking up ! Ah, but the fact that you were chosen while you had NO experience and such, should’ve been your first warning that this was too good to be true.

You were trying to stay positive though. Maybe it was only for the first day ? Maybe their coffee person was sick or something ? It’d get more interesting later ? Yes. Yes let’s keep a positive outlook on everything.

Except right now, as your entire morning was made of you walking up and down the building (the elevator was not working, but of course), to the coffee shop at the corner of the street, and bringing back orders for people, you didn’t feel in the mood to try and stay cheery.

And the worst in all that ? You didn't even get ONE cup for yourself…This “real life” thing was not starting very well.

And so here you were, during your lunch break, looking like a mess, bag under your eyes and still wet from the rain (your trips up and down the street for coffee runs not helping drying yourself off), your morale at its lowest..And…

"That'll be 3 dollars and 50 cents for the large latte with triple espresso shot, m'am."

Catastrophe.

Proof that things could ALWAYS get worst.

As you were looking through your bag, you couldn't find your wallet !

Did you leave it at home ?! Maybe.

People at your work gave you the money to buy them coffee (and not a single tips, bunch of cheapskates). And you didn’t notice you were missing that oh so essential part of your daily life...Your credit card. Or any type of money.

Damn it !

“Um, excuse me miss, that’s 3,50 please ?”

“Oh yes yes, um, you know what I just-”

“Here, miss, you dropped this.”

As you were about to explain that in fact, you didn’t need coffee (even if when you asked for it you might’ve mentioned it being a question of “life or death”), too embarrass to admit you didn’t have the money to buy it, a...very handsome man handed you a twenty dollars bill.

You were a hundred percent sure this wasn’t yours. You never carry lose cash like this. A quick look to his kind deep blue eyes, and soft smile, and you realize...

Oh. Great. A total (very handsome) stranger took pity of you.

You probably looked even worst than you felt. You were about to say this was a mistake, but before you could, he gave the bill to the barista, and left with a last smile to you, taking his own cup of coffee away with him.

Damn. You didn’t have time to say “thank you”. He vanished as fast as he appeared, disappearing in the crowd of the busy coffee shop.

“Here’s your change, m’am.”

“Ah you know what ? Keep it buddy. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Wow, thanks !”

You were pretty sure that barista never had such a big tip, and it oddly made you feel better, to make someone else’s day like that. Your grandma did always say that you found true joy from helping others...

Oh, yeah, ok, you just helped someone out, why was the universe so angry at you ?!

As you turned around and started to leave, almost at the exist of the shop, mood a little better after this nice encounter with a (again, handsome) stranger, and the barista, you see him.

Him. One of the reason you sort of decided to take a gap year.

Him.

Your ex-boyfriend, Eric, who cheated on you with your friend Monica. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good memory. And you hadn’t seen neither him nor her since you left college, especially not since you heard they actually got together.

Your FRIEND. With your BOYFRIEND. And it went on for a while, before you finally discovered it (that day was as shitty as today...).

Oh. And of course Eric wasn’t alone. She, was there too. The one you thought was your friend, and who stabbed you in the back like that. Both of them discarding you like a dirty old sock.

Great. Really. Awesome. This day was going from “bad” to “please kill me.”

“(Y/N) !”

He looks surprised to see you, although also a little pleased. And it makes you want to punch him in the face. You don’t care if it’s because he wished things ended another way, they both betrayed your truth and then never even tried to talk to you again afterward.

You’re not sure you would’ve forgave them, but at least, it would’ve shown they still cared about you in a way. Nobody chooses who they’re going to fall in love with (that, you’d soon discover for yourself). But she was your best friend. And he was with you for over a year.

She’s a little more awkward than him, and smiles, clearly embarrassed. You always knew she was a bit of a coward, if she wasn’t, she would’ve face you, right ?

And that’s when it happened. The decision that would forever change your life.

In this great moment filled with despair and awkwardness.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that nice stranger who paid for your coffee. The handsome one. He didn’t leave the shop, but instead went to seat at a table that was a little further away than the rest of them.

His eyes were glued to his phone, and you thought : “Well, fuck it, all this can’t get any worst right ?”

You were sort of hoping that, since he had been nice with you once and offered you those twenty dollars without knowing you (although you were very aware it was probably just pity), maybe he could help again ?

Maybe it was the fatigue, the fact you were getting sadder and sadder, that you had a terrible day, and that you just saw two people you loved and who threw you away like you meant nothing (oh but not before being super fake to you, pretending they WEREN’T cheating behind your back)...maybe it was a combination of all of that, that made you act crazy.

But here you found yourself, sitting at that stranger’s table, and saying, as he looked up from his phone clearly surprised :

“How are you guys ? As you can see, I’m great.”

You don’t dare to look at the handsome stranger, and hope he’ll be too stunned to say anything, and you can make your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend feel embarrass enough they’ll leave quickly. But then Monica says something that makes your heart skip multiple beats :

“You...You know Bruce Wayne ?!”

You turn to the man who gracefully paid for your coffee, and your eyes go wide. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. How did you NOT recognize him ?! Of course. Chiseled face, beautiful blue eyes, a suit that was definitely worth your entire year’s salary, a very charming aura...

Your hazy mind full of “fuck this day” didn’t register that THE Bruce Wayne, was the one who helped you out. How did you miss that ? His face had been plastered everywhere in Gotham for the past year, since he came back to the city, in fact.

You hear yourself wish with all your might to be struck by lightning this instant, as the two assholes who hurt you so much are looking at you expectantly and are not about to live (of course, they just met celebrity BRUCE WAYNE !! Could someone be as unlucky as you were today ?!)

And that’s when you hear a chuckle, a beautiful deep chuckle, and finally turn to look at Bruce. He smiles at you, and takes your hand, saying :

“Honey, who are your friends ?”

Your brain go full “ERROR 404″, not quite able to grasp the fact that THE Bruce Wayne just ran with what you were trying to do. How ? How was this possible ? You initially went to sit with him in the hope that Eric and Monica would see you were totally ok and with a hot date, not quite sure still yet how you ever thought this was a good idea and...

It was turning out alright ?!

HOW ?!

“Oh um, I’m..Eric. And this is my gir...This is Monica.”

What a piece of shit. Not even brave enough to call her his “girlfriend” when he cheated on you with her for months and months. You glare at him, unable to stop this gut reaction.

And that’s something Bruce caught.

In fact, as soon as you sat down, avoiding looking at him and nervously looking at those two people, Bruce sort of knew you were in an uncomfortable situation. One that made you take an irrational decision.

And oh, he didn’t like the look Eric and Monica gave you. Like they felt superior as they caught you in a bad moment. Bruce hated, people who thought they were superior to others...

And you clearly seemed in distress and in need of help so...He ran with it.

Bruce had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t enough that it felt natural, to run along with what your hazy mind thought was a good idea.

“Nice to meet you, are you friends with-”

Damn it. He realized he didn’t know your name. Quick thinking saved him, and he managed to keep his tone even, as to hide his hesitation :

“My love ?”

His hand around yours felt warm and reassuring, and you still couldn’t believe that, not only a total stranger, but THE Bruce Wayne was helping you out like that. Especially after you had such a bad day.

Him calling you his “love” made your exes feel very awkward, and they shake their head “no”, suddenly pretending they’re very busy and have to meet up with someone. They leave the coffee shop, clearly stunned, whispering things to each others that you knew were probably : “how did she get a guy like him ?!”

You can’t help but glare at them some more...But then your hand feels cold again, and you realize Bruce let go off it. Well. Duh. Of course he would.

You turn to him, your feature softening, and say :

“Are you an angel ?”

Ah yes. Your defense mechanism. “Humor”.

He chuckles, and says :

“Well, I’m afraid not. My butler would think this is very funny. But thank you.”

Awkwardly, you rub your neck, your free hand nervously turning your cup of coffee clockwise in your palm. You don’t really know how to end this, what : “thanks for that” and leave ?

“Thanks for the coffee. And for um...Saving my ass, just there.”

He smiles, and wow hello white teeth and charming dimples ?!

“You’re very welcome. They looked like they were jerks.”

“Haha oh you have no idea.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Thanks again. Really. This means a lot, especially since we don’t know each others. Well, I know you. Everyone in Gotham does haha. And ok I’m going to leave now, my lunch break is almost over and I don’t want to make this even more awkward.”

You start to rise up, but he holds you back by catching your sleeve, and says :

“Actually miss…?”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), you are kind of saving my life right now.”

“…I am ?”

A flash blinds you. Not a lightning, a camera flash. You turn, just in time to see a guy hastily hiding a camera and running away.

“What the...”

“A paparazzi. Good timing, for once.”

“Huh ?”

You wish you had some witty come back, or would just know what to say. But you’re confused. And this has been a really weird day.

“I am sorry if this will seem forward, or like I helped you wanting something in exchange. But I promise I will make it worth your while if you just sit back down and listen to me for a few minutes.”

You sit back down. More because you’re unsure your leg can still support you in this moment, than because he asked you to. With a smile he continues :

“Thank you. So. Let me explain a little, and again, sorry if this is too forward. If you don’t want to help of course, I would understand. I’m about to ask you something rather odd, I guess. And I’ll clear things up with paparazzis. I also promise I did not help you with your “friends”-”

“They’re not my friends.”

“I figured that much. And I promise I didn’t help you with them and ran with whatever you were trying, just so I could ask you this.”

“Ask me what ?”

“Well, you see…it’s arranged marriage season.”

“What ?”

“Every year, every single rich family try to make me marry their single daughters. It’s a very tiring season, but I’ve never been able to avoid it…I thought about having a fake fiancee before but could never find the right person.”

What he says does not register with you. His clear proposal doesn’t hit your brain. And you just stare at him, waiting for him to keep going. But he doesn’t, and by the way he looks at you, you slowly starts to understand where he’s getting at.

You gasp, now pretty sure this is all a dream (or a nightmare) and say :

“And I’m the right person ?”

“Well, yes. You seem to be a...“normal” person.”

“…Thanks.”

“In that case it’s good. It’s very good. It means that if I’m dating you, a woman that has nothing to bring me, then it must be true love.”

“Wow, stop with the flatteries already mister Wayne, I can’t handle it…”

Ah, your slight wits are back. Good sign that you’re regaining your senses. Everything that happened in the last ten minutes still feel like a bad dream, but you’re back in reality now.

“No no no, I didn’t mean it in a demeaning way ! But it’s just, you’re not rich, and you’re not famous or have political ties. You’re just a regular person. So they won’t think I’m trying to trick them, even if I am, do you know what I mean ?”

“Gotcha. My broke ass person cannot bring you any value, so it must be love and not just an arranged thing they can break. Cool.”

There’s a slight silence. And you find it a little fun, to play a little bit with the famous Bruce Wayne. He seemed so confident and cocky on TV, you never thought you’d be able to make him look so guilty.

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He says, clearly meaning it. But you shake your head and smile at him (and oh why does he feel his heart tightening slightly at your smile ?), and reassure him instantly (you feel a little bad, actually, to mess with him while he did just really do a huge favor to you while he had no obligations to) :

“Haha, just messin’ around with ya Mster Wayne. I’m not bothered by it, it’s the truth. I’m really broke, and I don’t think you could find more “regular” than me right now. So, and because you really did save my ass from an extremely displeasing experience back there. And also because you allowed me to see those assholes’ face of surprise and “how did she manage that ?!”, tell me more about your plan, and let’s see if I can help you back.”

And so Bruce starts to explain to you how, every year, this beginning of Fall is the worst time ever, as it’s a moment where everyone seems to want to marry off their daughter. And of course, Bruce Wayne is a good “party”.

The plan was fairly simple. You’d fake a relationship with him, so he could avoid all of this, and in exchange...Well. You’d gain a lot in exchange.

This is how you started to really feel like you had fallen into a “romcom” by accident...You and Bruce, became an actual living trope.

************

“And then when the “marrying season” is done, you can break it off.”

“I ?”

“Well yes, I can assure you you’ll gain quite a rep if you break up with me haha.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure you like that sort-of overly confident side of him. But you can see something behind his eyes, like a slight unsureness as he looks back at you, trying to see if you’ll agree or not.

“I don’t really need a “reputation”.”

Breaking up with THE Bruce Wayne himself. For sure people would talk about it a lot, and maybe it would help open some doors for you ? But you felt a little odd taking advantage of this like that.

Seeing that he hadn’t convinced you quite yet, he adds :

“Of course, I will pay you.”

What kind of Pretty Woman sort of nonsense was this ?! You were about to protest when he added, realizing how he sounded :

“I mean, you ARE doing me a great service. You ARE going to have to act, you know ? An...actual job ? And I will be honest with you, it won’t be easy, to find yourself in the public eye. I think it definitely justify a salary.”

Put that way, you had to admit that, well, yeah it sort of did. Especially since you knew how crazy tabloids were about Bruce Wayne. Becoming his “girlfriend” would definitely put you on the front lines.

“And it would truly help me tremendously.”

Your grandma always said it : “True joy comes out from helping others !” So. What if you benefit from it a little ? If it helps you financially, and you can get a little network out of it ? First rule of Alchemy (what a weeb) : “equivalent exchange” ! Plus, he did really help you with your coffee, but also with Eric and Monica so...

And hey, this gap year was meant to help you find what and who you wanted to be. Help you go through this little twenty-something crisis. And this ? Living a literal romantic comedy cliche by faking being someone’s girlfriend ? Well, it definitely felt like the kind of adventure that could help you figure things out.

With a smile, you finally nod and shake his hand, not knowing quite yet in which mess you actually put yourself into...

Briefing.

Like every “secret mission”, this one too needed a “briefing”.

A little meeting to put all the rules down, and the goals too.

And here you were, feeling very out of place in a huge conference room in the biggest and tallest building in Gotham : “Wayne Tower”.

The concierge stared at you for a very long time, when you said you were there to see Mister Wayne. No “nobody” like you ever called for his boss.

Suspicious, as it was his job, he called security on you...Until it was finally cleared up that you DID have a meeting with Bruce Wayne !

Both the concierge, and the security guys, stared at you as you left to take the elevators they indicated to you, wondering who the hell had the kind of credentials to go all the way up there to see their boss ?! They didn’t recognize you from anywhere, not a model, not a famous politician or CEO, just...A regular person ?

That was odd. And they noticed, it was odd. Which you assumed was what Bruce was aiming for, but it felt so awkward, to walk through this huge hall under their scrutiny.

You finally arrived on the right floor, and oh look, some more staring.

From his secretary, this time. She was used to see women coming to see her boss. But they’d usually wear Prada, and have plunging necklines full of pearls and fanciness. They weren’t...like you.

You felt like it was easy, to know that you were just a “normal” person. You were definitely not wearing any designer clothes, and you were pretty sure the way you carried yourself made you super obvious.

Hence all the staring. You could clearly see in her eyes, that she was wondering who the hell you were...

She had her answer when Bruce came out of his office, and made a gesture as if he was going to throw his arm around your waist, and kiss you (which made you downright panic). But then, he looked awkwardly at his secretary, and instead just shook your hand.

Something that DID NOT go unnoticed by his secretary.

You saw how her eyes widen, and how she clearly hitched to take her phone out and call everyone...and you realized Bruce did this awkward thing because he knew his secretary, and her tendency to be a little gossipy.

You’d discover later, in fact, that he hired her entirely because he knew if he said something, she would pick up on it and it would help him control rumors and such. Clever.

For the moment though, he took you to a large conference room with huge windows.

“I’m sorry for the weird “hello” back there, I wanted Shirley to think I was embarrassed to display affection to you in front of her. Usually, I do not mind at all. So doing it would make her think that-”

“I’m someone special to you.”

“Exactly !”

He smiles widely as you understood his plan (not sure how you felt about it, then again, that’s why you were here for, making sure you knew where both of you stood in all this), and then tells you he’ll be back in a few minutes.

You have time to feel anxious and stressed before he finally comes back.

“Sorry for the wait.”

“Oh no, I bet you’re a busy man.”

“Yes well. Anyway. Let’s get to it shall we ?”

“Yes.”

“Ok. So. I thought we’d settle sort of a little contract, so neither of us ever feel uncomfortable ?”

“Sounds good, mister Wayne.”

“Yes well first, please call me Bruce.”

“Only if you call me (Y/N).”

Oh and you two were still on the path of “romcom cliches”, with this conversation. He smiles, nods, and continues :

“Ok, then I thought we could-”

And so your fake relationship started, with some little ground rules. Like he could only kiss you after you gave him permission, if you ever felt overwhelmed everything would be called off, etc etc.

Most rules were in your favor, to be honest. And WOW the paycheck he was going to give you for this little farce...Hey, maybe this gap year was finally gonna get interesting ?

Meeting the Little Buddy.

It was sort of necessary. By then, Dick had been his son, officially, for a few months. He wasn’t calling him “dad” yet (and Bruce didn’t particularly want him to, at the time...ah but everything change one day, right ?), but they were already family.

And it was a needed step.

It wasn’t in the little “contract” you made, and honestly you could’ve refused to meet him but...Well, you liked kids. In another life, it felt like you could’ve been a teacher (A/N : AH, like in this story ;) : “Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” ).

And you’d feel awkward, to fake a relationship and not ever meet his boy.

The first time he saw you, it was at the Wayne Tower, and his eyes widened as he exclaimed :

“Wow you’re so pretty ! Are you Bruce’s girlfriend ? You’re too good for him, you know.”

You could feel your heart melt, how adorable this little guy was, right ? You chuckled, and almost full on laughed as you saw how vexed Bruce was by the comment.

Not that he thought he was too good for you, no, he was just a little unhappy his son was stealing the show, and thought he couldn’t land someone like you...Oh but that, you couldn’t guess at the time, of course.

“Nice to meet you, Dick. I’m (Y/N). And...I’m not really his girlfriend.”

“Can you be mine then ?”

You laugh again. You and Bruce had decided to tell him the truth, Bruce assuring you that kid was good at pretending too. You answer :

“No, I’m saving him from marriage proposal.”

“Oooooh !”

Good at pretending. Dick had no idea what you were on about, but he was very good at acting as if he knew.

It’s only way later, that he finally got it. By then, he already accepted you as : “his dad’s girlfriend”, and even knowing the truth, there was no way to change his mind. And to be honest, out of everyone, little Dick Grayson was probably the most aware of what the situation truly was.

He had a knack, to notice how people felt.

A “family” outing.

Two months in, and it was going GREAT. Faking a relationship was actually pretty easy. All you had to do was hanging out with him (and he was very nice to hang out with), and when a paparazzi was around, quickly kiss his cheek, or hold his hand, or let him put his hand in your hair...All those cute things new couples do.

Today was one such small date.

You could see Bruce was nervous, though.

After hanging around with him that many times, you started to know him a little better. Started to know he wasn’t really that persona he portrayed publicly.

He was actually quite a dork. What a pity, nobody else would ever know his real self...Yet, it made you happy you were one of the few in on the secret.

“Ok, out with it mister, what’s up ?”

He looks at you with such surprise in his eyes, as if it was the first time someone guessed what he was feeling...and, well, yes. It was. It was the first time someone who wasn’t Alfred got it. Someone realized something was on his mind. And asked him about it, didn't just ignore and move on. Actually cared to know.

“I-Um...”

“Well ? Come on, I think literally nothing can surprise me by now, given you know, I’m faking a relationship with a billionaire, and it’s like, my job now.”

He smiles, and he couldn't possibly know how soft his look was, as he gazed at you.

“I...well, people don’t quite believe in us because-”

“WHAT ?! With all the “dates” and kisses and lovey dovey shit we did ?!”

He chuckles at your reaction, loving how honest you always were, and adds :

“The problem apparently is that you weren’t seen with my son yet, so many don’t believe we’re serious.”

“Oh...”

You met Dick. Because it felt like a necessary step to yours and Bruce’s scheme. And you knew he knew this was all fake...But neither of you wanted to confuse the boy in any way so he was kept mostly out of the plan.

“I talked to him, and it’s actually really up to wether you’re comfortable with it or not. I know he wasn’t part of our contract, and I should’ve probably thought about it, I’m sorry. But um...If you’re ok with it, we could..Do things with him, too ?”

Bruce is really nervous; And you’re pretty sure no one but you (and maybe Alfred) ever saw him like that. It’s kind of...sweet. But you let the silence linger for too long and he hurries to say :

“You really don’t have to ! It’s ok if they don’t think we’re that serious and I get some proposals. I can manage ! You’re still a great help right now. It was just an idea. Dick is a very social kid, he would go along with anything and loves to do activities outside. He would be fine. But if you’re not then we can-”

“No. No no it’s...It’s ok Bruce. The few time I saw him, Dick did seem absolutely a peach to be around. And I always have fun with you, so sure, let’s organize a little something and show those bastards we’re totally real.”

You chuckle a little, your smile and carefree face making his heart skip a beat, for some reasons...Bruce also decided to ignore how happy it made him, to know you were always glad to be with him, and instead, he smiled and settled a date.

************

And here you were. In one of Gotham’s biggest park, opening a basket full of delicious sandwiches made by the one and only Alfred. Pretending to have a great family outing.

“Hey, hey look !”

Dick was absolutely amazing, at acting as if you were really a thing. As if you were really a “family”. Right now, he was doing flips and cartwheels, demanding your attention with avidity.

Bruce made sure to always hide his face from pictures (he was GREAT at noticing where paparazzis were hiding, a life of practice, you assumed), as he wanted to keep as much as he could his son’s privacy (especially after he made all the headlines when he lost his parents).

It was quite adorable. And...You were really having fun.

Dick was such a lively kid, and he was full of talents. The food was good, and it was so comfortable around Bruce. It felt so natural.

This wasn't all that bad. To fake being a family. A good use of your gap year, really.

You purposefully decided to ignore the glint in the boy’s eyes. The way you sort of suspected for him, this was getting real, and not only pretend.

You and Bruce purposefully ignored it, actually. And you both felt shitty for it. Because not only were you risking to break that little boy’s heart when it was all over but...It was too hard to accept that maybe, maybe he was right.

And that all of this ? Might’ve not been as fake as you’d love to repeat yourself.

First Official outing.

First gala. You were terrified. So far all you had to do was hang out with Bruce in the afternoon, there and there. It mainly consisted in him buying you coffee, and keeping the addiction to caffeine real, while talking about anything that would come to your mind. The conversations between you two was always fluid and pleasant.

Or you’d go out with him and Dick, to do some fun things like mini-golf or catching a movie. Nothing too big and scary. It was mainly just you guys, no one else.

It seemed like he knew where the paparazzis would be (most likely because he was “anonymously” tipping them off himself), and he’d take you on random short dates when he had time in between his work, slowly fueling the rumors Bruce was not a heart to steal anymore.

And that he was dating a “commoner” ! (He hated this name for you, while you really didn’t mind that much).

And this gala, was what made it completely official. Finally. It was your idea, to take things “slow”, and hang out with him and his son BEFORE hanging out in public areas like this.

It was clever, really. To make it seems like you were trying to “hide” your relationship by being low-key, to then finally announce everything in public like that, at such an event.

Bruce went to get a drink for the both of you, and you were looking around you, horrified at the mere idea that someone would come talk to you.

But for some reasons, nobody seemed to dare. Maybe Bruce made sure that people would leave you alone ? Even as if you were clearly the talk of the evening, all eyes on you, and not even trying to be subtle ?

You knew he did the same with little Dickie. That he made sure he was safe from the paparazzi and that no unsolicited journalist would come around him.

Thinking of it, where was the little one ? Usually, according to Bruce, whenever there was a gala he would spend his entire time near the food table, eating as much as he could, and he would come home feeling nauseous because of it...Haha sounded like Dick alright. That kid was so-

Oh oh.

Who was that sleazy looking gal talking to him ? He seemed so uncomfortable, yet too polite to brush her off...Oh no, she wasn’t one of them, was she ?

Without thinking twice about it, wether it was your place to do what you were about to do or not, you resolutely walked towards them.

“-Think it’s because he relates to you ? As both of you lost your parents in horrific situations, you know ?”

“I-I don’t know m’am.”

When you saw Dick’s distressed face, and his eyes slowly filling with tears, there was no doubt in your mind.

This woman was not supposed to be there, and was definitely not supposed to talk to that child...

This woman was a - shiver of disgust- tabloid journalist.

Your blood boiled as you saw her take a picture of the teary eyed Dickie, and you were standing protectively in front of him before you could even think about it. When you felt the boy clutch to your sleeve, hiding behind you and holding on for dear life, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Can I ask you why you’re talking to that boy, please ?”

“What, it’s illegal to talk to fellow guests now ?”

“Lady, you’re well in your thirties. He’s eight. You have no right talking to him. Not only is it weird, but I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what am I doing, lovey ?”

“You’re trying to get a story out of him. And you should be ashamed of yourself. He’s eight ! And from what I heard, you were asking some very disgusting things back there !”

“I-”

“Shut up.”

Your words came out harsh and determined, and the woman was so shocked she stayed silent for a while. You crouch down to Dick’s level, and ask :

“Are you ok, my little buddy ?”

He nods weakly, and then burst into tears as he launches himself in your arms, clinging to you tightly. You turn your head towards the woman, glaring at her so fiercely she doesn’t dare to take a picture of the scene, even as she knows she could sell them for a golden price.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s just a child !”

The woman was about to say something else, something you knew would fuel your anger further, when Bruce arrived, and it was clear from his face that he was not happy.

A quick look to you holding his crying son in your arms, and to the lady with the camera in her hands, and he understand what happened. With a cold voice you never heard him use before, he says :

“I suggest you leave the area now, before I force you to.”

There was something almost scary, in his demeanor. Almost like...No. Impossible. In any case, you didn’t worry about it much, drawing soothing circles with your hand on Dick’s back, trying to calm him.

People around quickly stopped staring as they met Bruce’s assassin glare. It was not secret, that he was very protective of his son. And of his new girlfriend, apparently.

You picked the little boy in your arms (Dick, at the time, was still so tiny), and Bruce comes closer, trying to soothe him too. And it really looked like all this was real...

Dick fell asleep in Bruce’s arms shortly after that, and was still there when it was time for the gala official pictures. Not wanting to wake him up, for once, Bruce allowed people to photograph the boy, as long as they did not frame his face.

He laid his free hand on the small of your back, and just like you got used to those past months, you pretend to be head over heels for him and have one of your own arm around his waist.

“Would you please allow me to kiss you on the cheek, for the cameras ?”

His question is so sweet, softly whispered in your ears. And you felt like a tease tonight, and maybe a little tipsy too. You tell him :

“On the cheek only ? Let’s give them a show no ? Let them forget about what happened with Dick.”

Of course, you’re only joking, but there’s a light in Bruce’s eyes you haven’t seen before and...It disappears quickly. He chuckles, of that low chuckles that would charm anyone in the world, and says :

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. Actually kissing me, I realize, might be too much.”

You know he caught on your joke, but you can’t brush off that light in his eyes that ignited when you suggested to kiss him...You don’t know why, and it feels you’re not controlling your own words, as you hear yourself say :

“Oh because kissing you would be such a horrible thing wouldn’t it ? Oh my, you’re only one of the handsomest man in Gotham, a rather attractive fella, how could I handle kissing you ? So disgusting !”

Your tone is teasing, and a little bit challenging. He catches on that, too. He answers :

“But I am merely here to serve. I will do as you wish. You only have to say the words.”

His smile fills your vision. His face. And the way he softly holds your waist, even as his other arms is carrying his son (the man was BUILT). And you think...Well, fuck it ! It was time for the first (fake) kiss, right ?

Right here, in front of the cameras, where everyone was seeing you. Making it go full circle. Making it “official”.

“Kiss me then, if you dare.”

You simply say. Releasing a breath you were unaware you were keeping in. And he feels his heart squeeze, and as if he’s sweating a bit. When was the last time he was nervous about kissing a woman ?

He couldn’t remember.

And then he kisses you, the flashes of cameras slowly fading away as his lips melt onto yours.

Wow. What a perfect, and nice, first kiss.

As fake as it might be.

Your room.

Your room at Wayne Manor was bigger than your entire apartment.

You and Bruce decided that sometimes, so you wouldn’t raise any suspicion, you’d sleep at the Manor. Paparazzi were so on top of everything, it would seem weird if he was in a “committed relationship” and you never slept at his place.

So Alfred settled a room for you.

Oh. Alfred ! You met him not long ago, and he was the best !

It felt like he could magically guess what you wanted when you wanted it, and magically appeared with that warm cup of tea you craved, or that meal you’ve been thinking about all day.

But beyond that, he was genuinely nice and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. He showed you around, and his conversation was so pleasant !

You could actually see a lot of Bruce in him. Or, rather, it was evident that Alfred had raised Bruce most of his life, because they had a lot of similar mannerism, and were both kind and caring (Ah, imagine if Superman knew what you thought of Bruce, how crazy it’d sound to him eh ? But of course, that you’d discover way WAY later).

You never went to explore much when it was time to go to bed, too afraid to get lost. This place was huge, and you never quite had a good sense of orientation.

One could only wonder, what would you have discovered if you ever dared to wake up during the night, and explore his home ?

Build a Bear.

Sometimes, Bruce really had to wrack his brain for original date ideas. Ever since he came back to Gotham, his dating days consist of pretending to sleep with every model in the World.

He’d take them to fashion shows, to galas, to charity events...All very public places, unsuitable for a “serious” relationship like he was hoping to make yours and his pass for.

Enter : Clever little Dickiebird, who always had an idea (and who might’ve been the best wingman someone like the Batman needed...that, of course, he’d discover it way, WAY later) :

“You can take her to a build a bear !”

“Build...a bear ?”

“Yeah, you know. You go and you make your own teddy bear !”

“I do know, I took you to get Chester - the name of Dick’s favorite plushie toy now, and maybe with which he slept-. But...For a date ?”

“What ? It’s cute and intimate !”

“Huh ?”

It has been a long time, since Alfred Pennyworth had to hold his laughter in that hard, and try to stay impeccably neutral. And there, faced with his master Bruce, who was known as the “ultimate womanizer”, the “perfect playboy”, and who was currently taking advice from his eight years old son...It was really hard to keep a straight face.

It was also incredibly adorable. Especially how Bruce seemed to genuinely listen to the little one, unaware that he seemed actually way too interested for things just to be for his “fake relationship” to be more convincing.

Not that Alfred was going to tell Bruce anything.

“Dick, you know (Y/N) isn’t really my girlfriend, right ?”

The way the boy talked about taking you to a date, felt to Bruce like he was forgetting this was all fake. And it was important to remind him.

But Dick had to invoke all the efforts in the world to not roll his eyes as to say : “sure she isn’t”, by now, it was oh so obvious to everyone but you and Bruce that there was a very real thing forming between you two.

Instead, he said :

“But you’re suppose to make the public really believe it right ? If you take her to build a bear, I can assure you they will think you guys are the real deal.”

Bruce pondered this for a little bit, and realized that his son was right. It did seem like a cute and intimate date to bring your girl to, even if she was your fake girl...

Ah. Bruce forgot his own words. “Dick is great at pretending.” He is. He really is. Just like right now, he was pretending his idea was completely innocent, while he knew it would bring you two ever so closer.

That whenever you’d see those bears you were going to build in your home, you’d think of one another. And remember fondly of the memory.

And oh. Oh that boy was right.

Your bear was sitting proudly on your couch, and every time you saw it, you remembered how clumsy Bruce had been, filling his own bear up. And how cute he was, carefully thinking of his options.

And every time Bruce saw his own bear, that Alfred, for some reason, settled in the Batcave on the “trophy shelves” (and for some reason Bruce didn’t take it off of it...), he couldn’t help but think how he had genuine fun that day.

Genuine fun, for the first time in what felt like ages. And how your smiling and giggling face didn’t seem to leave his mind, whenever he saw that bear...

Conniving traitors.

“We both agree, he’s in love with her right ? He’s just too dense to realize it.”

“Oh yes, young Master Richard, he definitely is. And he is dense, at times.”

“Should we do anything ?”

“No more than what you’re already doing.”

“Which is ?”

“Which is continuing to push them in the...Right direction.”

“Oh ! I get it ! I’ll keep going Al’!”

“And I’m sure you’ll make miracles, young master.”

Dick’s smile to the old butler was so pure and happy, that Alfred had a hard time keeping his composure once again.

And oh. Oh how he wish they were right, and that his Master Bruce would FINALLY allow himself to be happy...

Rumors and Truth

Bruce was just a tiny bit older than you. 24, according to his wikipedia page.

And you couldn't help but be a little jealous, as you were looking at the page to re-enroll yourself in Gotham’s university, knowing he was done with college.

Then again, he was obviously a genius and would’ve been done faster than you anyway, even if you were the same age, since he finished his PhD just the year before, while most people don't even START their doctorate until they're around 23/24.

Mmmm. Made you think. Was this just yet another rumors about the man ?

Maybe not, after all it was proven he started college at age 14, and in Ivy Leagues ones, all across the world.

From Cambridge, to Oxford, without forgetting La Sorbonne (A/N : by the way, this is canon haha, Bruce really did start college that early and went to many different places, and honestly, is anyone surprised ?).

This wasn't really something you absolutely couldn't believe, compared to other crazy rumors about him. And you knew he WAS smart.

By then, you couldn't count how many things were circulating about him, and how hard it was to know the truth from just plain old rumors.

He had over a thousand lovers, he had MORE than one PhD (impossible, right ?), he had died once but survived somehow, he was part of a cult, he often lost his status as a billionaire because he gave so much money to charities and such, but his companies meddled in so many areas that his bank account was always filled more and more…

Honestly that last part didn't really surprise you. You saw him gave his money away to things he cared about (like education and medical care) without a second thoughts, so the fact he constantly oscillated between "billionaire" and "multi-millionaire" didn't really surprise you, not when you knew him like you did now.

You totally trusted the rumors that said that by now, he gave away more than he currently owned. It sounded like him alright…But how to know the truth from the downright crazy ? Did he really have a PhD or was this just an addition to how special and different Bruce Wayne was in Gotham ? What kind of PhD did he have anyway ? 1000 lovers, really ?!

So many questions. And not a lot of answers. Even if you grew closer (as friends, of course), Bruce was still somewhat of a mystery to you.

He never really tried to dismiss rumors, even the bad ones (unless they touched his son). Which made you wonder if they were true or not. And you really, really, for some reasons, wanted to know more about him...

“Is something the matter ?”

He asks. Oh goddamn you, day dreaming on one of your regular “coffee date”.

You shake your head, sipping on your drink and say :

“Was just thinking about...Tabloids.”

“Ah.”

He frowns. For understandable reasons.

“I was just thinking about wether some rumors were true or not.”

“What do you think is not true ?”

“I don’t really know, and you never really say a rumor is false so it’s hard to know.”

“Do you want to know anything in particular ?”

Bruce knows it’s dangerous, to let you enter his private life like that. There’s a reason, after all, why he never dismisses any rumors.

It helped build his fake persona, and take away any suspicions that he might be the infamous Batman.

But he felt weak, around you. As if he just wanted to please you, no matter what. Sometimes, he felt dangerously close to just tell you : “ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth”, even if it meant revealing his night activities...

Crazy, right ?

He knew it was. And that he shouldn’t let it happen. Yet here he was, asking if you wanted to know something. Craving your attention. It felt so unlike him. But...You seemed to unlock a certain part of him.

The one that didn’t die with his parents, and remained hidden. The one that was the old little Bruce, full of hope, honesty and happiness. Full of wish for the future...Even if he knew there was none.

“How was college, for you ?”

You hear yourself asking, really wondering if it was true he was 14 when he started, and if it was...How different you guys were, right ? You were 21 right now, and taking a gap year after two years of college...When he was your age, he had already finished a master (or even maybe two).

"My college years were actually pretty boring, and unlike some rumors say, weren't particularly wild. I was really young."

"Ah, I heard the rumors."

"Those are true, I'm afraid haha."

"Afraid ? You're a genius !"

Which is why you found, more and more, his "himbo" persona to be odd. WHat was Bruce Wayne trying to hide ? Mmm…

Bruce recognized that look in your eyes. The look of someone who was onto something, and it was too frightening to let it happen. So he said :

"Yes well, I feel I missed a lot, during those years. Which is why I make it up now hahaha !"

His boisterous laughter seemed genuine, and totally fooled you. You couldn't always be on top of everything eh ? And this, did answer your question about his himbo persona…Oh, Bruce was good.

And he knew it. He trained for years, to make sure nobody would ever even suspect him to be Batman.

But he had to be careful with you. He knew it. It was obvious. You weren't that easy to fool…

The Day Batman saved you.

The fact he had to be careful with you was confirmed not long after. When, as Batman, he came to your rescue.

He should’ve known, that even with a voice changer, and a mask covering most his face, plus a demeanor that was completely different from his usual one, you’d still get suspicious...He should’ve known because he, by then, knew you quite well.

But, what ? Was he suppose to just let you get mugged ?

He couldn’t.

Even if in the grand scheme of things, it would’ve been better, and he would definitely intervene if it got too rough...He couldn’t.

He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or feeling distressed.

He knew this was stupid. That he shouldn’t get so attached. That muggings weren’t really his area of expertise, that to stop them, he had to hit the big bosses. He knew. Small thugs weren’t his target. He had a much bigger vision. And rationally, he should be somewhere else right now.

Yet he couldn’t resolve himself to. Because, and that was a dangerous thought and feeling, he was in l-

“Why are we spying on your girlfriend ?”

Dick’s voice takes him out of his reveries, good. It WAS getting dangerous. Still keeping you in his field of vision (you were slowly going back to your apartment, a few minutes still, and he could leave to do other things knowing you were safe and sound in your home), he answered :

“We’re not spying on her, we’re making sure she’s safe. And she’s not my girlfriend, you know that.”

“Oh yeah ? We’ve been following your “totally not girlfriend” since the night started, awfully looks to me like we’re um, you know, stalking her.”

“We’re not.”

“Suuuuuuuuuure.”

Bruce gives an annoyed look to his son, who had way too big a smug face right now, and says :

“The night is calm, if something comes up we’ll go. But right now, it’s alright. And it has been made official, that she and I are a couple.”

“Fake couple.”

“Fake one to us, not to the public eye.”

“Ooooooh !”

Connections were quickly made in the boy’s head, and he understood why they were following her. After all, this was Gotham. And if THE Bruce Wayne had ONE known lover...Well, it was easy to know it’d attract some nasty business.

Dick was about to make a smug remark of which he had a talent for, when it happened. He pointed at you, fear in his eyes, and Bruce focused your way again.

“Stay here.”

“What why ?! I wanna help her too !”

“Because she’s too smart not to put two and two if she sees you with me. She knows us in our day lives. She’ll recognize us for sure, if we’re together.”

“Oh...”

“Just stay still, ok ?”

“Ok.”

Without a second thought, Bruce jumped down in the street down below, under Dick’s worried eyes. If anything happened to you, he knew his dad would never be the same again.

And he knew he couldn’t bear to lose yet another person he cared about. Even loved. Yes. Yes Dick loved you, as if you really were part of his family...

The months of “faking” family outings made it so. Your worst fear happened. Dick was getting attached, hardcore. And he really hoped you and Bruce would figure out you were actually in love with each others before the end of your “contract”, and before his sometimes very dense dad would decide to let you go...

For now though, he was anxiously looking at Bruce making his way to you, after he spotted a suspicious group of men genuinely stalking you.

************

“Hey pretty girl, can we talk ?”

You stop in your track, turning around, cursing yourself for not having the instinct to just take off running. Oh. But you can see at least one of them has a gun. You can’t run faster than a bullet...

“Ah it is you, isn’t it ?”

You don’t answer, knowing what they mean. Bruce sort of warned you against this. But you didn't take his warnings seriously, and here you were, going home at night, something he definitely told you not to do.

You just couldn’t sleep that night, and needed a walk...And here you were.

“You’re gonna come nicely with us, right ?”

“I dont’ think so.”

Uh ? You’re pretty sure that weird robotic voice wasn’t yours. Even if that’s exactly what you wanted to say. And that’s...oh wow.

That’s when you see him. Batman.

Immediately, the atmosphere grow even tenser. And you can see the thugs who wanted to take you with them fearfully looking at him.

“This has nothing to do with you Batman, leave us alone, we didn’t do anything wrong !”

“It has everything to do with me. Leave.”

“We have to-You don’t understand. We have to take her to-”

“Nowhere. Leave.”

Even if he was protecting you, you had to admit that, that dude was frightening. He had his back to you, and even then, he looked so intimidating and tall and broad...

Bruce was tall and broad too. But he was soft and sweet, not scary at all.

“OH MY GOD LOOK OUT !!”

One of the thug had a gun pointed at Batman. Right at his head. He didn’t have the time to enforce his helmet yet, and if he shot around his mouth, he was done for...

A rock coming out of nowhere hit the thug right in the face.

Coming out of nowhere ? To you, maybe. But Bruce knew that this was little Dickie’s doing. “Robin always has Batman’s back”, he said often...

For the time being, the one taking his gun out being knocked out triggered a “fight or flight” reaction in the others, and as two took off running (and were mysteriously hit by rocks too, knocking them out), three decided to attack Batman.

Bad move.

Very bad move.

In a matter of second, it was over.

He turns to you, and it’s hard to discern any emotions with his lighted eyes and mask. He asks :

“Are you alright, (Y/N) ?”

“How-How do you know my name ?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, right ?”

There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice as, as soon as he pronounced your name, he knew he messed up...but he trained himself to think quickly. And this “fake” relationship was a perfect excuse, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew about you two, by now.

“Oh, right, ok.”

You seemed a bit disappointed, and Bruce couldn’t quite understand why...

It only hits him later, as he was going to bed, why you looked like that. And it made hi heart beat widely. Because he was pretty sure that it was because you sort of hoped Bruce talked to “Batman about you...Oh...Oh this was getting dangerous.

But of course, Bruce had a reputation to be the one funding Batman’s gadget (a really good cover for the fact he was actually Batman). So they’d know each others...

But right there and then, as he just saved you, you felt so stupid, hoping that Bruce would’ve talked to you to Batman. Why would he ? How the hell would your name even show up in a conversation between Bruce Wayne and Batman (but oh, if you knew you occupied his thoughts many times, and who he really was, maybe you’d feel less bad ? It was, in a way, Bruce talking about you to Batman, right ?).

You smiled weakly and shyly at this impressive being in front of you, and thanked him one more time. He nods, smiling too (oh ?), and bid you farewell.

Ah. But Bruce didn’t notice your eyes go wide, as he took off with his grappling hook, and you caught the side of his face in a certain light...

Fake ?

"You know, he smiles more when you’re around.”

Dick tells you once, you look at him curiously, as he continues :

“And before you say it’s “all pretend”, let me tell you there’s a difference between this smile and the fake one. Look, that’s how he pretend.”

On that note, he looked at you and smiled widely, exaggeratedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it was so like how Bruce portrayed himself in public, that it made you chuckle.

It also scared you a little.

Not because there was a possibility Bruce did smile more around you, but because as that little boy was being silly, and now imitating his adopted father further and oh so perfectly...You felt a surge of love for him.

And that wasn’t good.

Because the day, which was coming soon now, you’d have to “dump” Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t be able to see that little one again...why would you ?

It’d be too weird, right ? Someone like you, once “broken up”, would have no reasons or ways to ever interact with billionaire Bruce Wayne or his son ever again.

That little boy was the sweetest child you ever met. He suffered a great loss so early in his life, and there he was, making you laugh and being nice by saying you made his dad genuinely smile.

It hurt, to know that one day, you wouldn’t see him again. That he’d grow up, and you wouldn’t know what he became.

You were sure he was destined to become a great man, and you wished you could see it...No. No this was bad. This was so bad.

“I mean it you know.”

His little voice brings your attention back to him.

“I think you make him happy. With you, it feels he can be himself. He laughs more, really laughs. And it’s often that he tells me “oh this makes me think of (Y/N)” and calls you. He doesn’t need to call you for the fake relationship thing, right ? Yet he does. That means something. I think he likes you.”

You shake your head, smiling at this little boy’s wild imagination. No way. No way was THE Bruce Wayne falling for you in any way. Were you guys becoming real friends ? Sure. But it definitely stopped there. Right ?

Oh but if only you knew Dick had a knack to see this kind of things, and to guess people’s real feelings. If only you knew, that yes, Bruce was starting to fall for you...It would make the next episode way less painful for you.

“Catch me dead before you catch me catching feelings” - You to yourself, a few days before starting a fake relationship with THE Bruce Wayne.

“Fuck you” - You to yourself, almost six months in faking a relationship with Bruce Wayne.

This was...bad.

Soon enough, you and Bruce will break this entire deal off, you will “dump” him, and you’d go on your separate ways. And...

This was bad.

Why ? WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HANG OUT WITH THIS AMAZING CHARMING MAN AND THAT’S IT ? Why ? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET OUT THERE AND CATCH....

Catch...

Catch those body shivering “feelings”.

Not just for Bruce though. But for the little buddy too.

You felt yourself fall for Bruce slowly, and as if it was completely out of your control. But you also felt like if Dick wasn't in your life anymore...You wouldn’t feel whole again. Like he was sort of your son, too, by then.

This was so bad. How did you get yourself in this mess ? What was that FIRST rule you gave yourself when all this started ?

Right, “Catch me dead before I catch feelings”. Damn it.

Thanks GOD the “marrying season” was finally coming to an end. Both you and Bruce settled you’d wait a few weeks after it to make your break-up official, so nobody would be tempted to cancel any wedding plans to try and force their daughter onto him.

And it couldn’t happen soon enough.

Being around him now, faking being in love, was torture to you.

Kissing him knowing he felt nothing. Holding his hand in public while you knew in your heart he was just putting a show still. And hanging out with him feeling that you had absolutely no chance of this ever evolving...

It hurt.

It hurt so bad.

And you were slowly hoping you never agreed to being his fake girlfriend. Being a living cliche, the money and the fame were REALLY not worth the heartache.

So not worth it...

The end...?

"Well mister Wayne, it has truly been a pleasure to be your "girlfriend" haha. Seriously, I had a lot of fun, and a little revenge on life. You know, I saw Eric and Monica not long ago. They tried to become my friends again, knowing I was with you. It was great, to ignore them like they ignored them. You’re right, they’re really not worth it. And honestly I still don’t think we’re even after they hurt me like they did but...In the end, they looked so outraged. Win-win, really. Thank you very much."

"Thank YOU, for playing along and doing more than you bargained for. You really saved me a lot of hassle and…I had fun, too."

Your taxi was pulling in front of the Manor, and honked as he parked. Clearly, not a very patient driver.

"Well, see you around, Bruce ! If you're not too busy, you know…I kinda consider you a friend by now ?"

"Me, too."

Bruce lied. A "friend" ? No, it couldn't cover and explain all his feelings for you. A "friend". How ridiculous.

As you walked away, giving him a last smile, Bruce felt a pang in his chest.

A painful and yet happy one. A longing one. One that told him that "friend" wasn't what he wanted to be…Not anymore…

But was there really a future for you and him ? Probably not. His nightly activities would get in the way. You deserve more than the life he could give you. Being his "fake" girlfriend, you only took part in his public matters. Part in a fake world full of nice things, that was far from his actual life.

"Friend", he wished he could be more to you than this.

But he knew.

He knew that for your own good, he had to stay away. And oh, oh how he wished he could be more than just your "friend" or "fake" boyfriend.

Yet he watched as you walked away. Without doing anything.

He watched you leave, and felt the hole in his heart expand a little more. But didn’t try to catch you, or stop you from leaving.

And your taxi was already far, now. On its way to Gotham.

"So you gonna run after her oooor…??"

Dick's little voice takes him out of his reveries.

“Mmm ?”

“(Y/N). Are you gonna run after her, or stand there looking like a sad puppy for the rest of your life ?”

“I do not look like a sad puppy.”

“Yes you do, and you know it. Come on dad, why are you doing this ?”

This was the first time Dick called him dad. Which didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce. It meant...It meant something was definitely happening. He felt it in his heart. Something that was dangerous. Oh so dangerous.

Hope. Like the “old Bruce” had. Hope. Full of it. Before his parents were murdered in front of him, for no reasons. Meaningless.

Hope.

To have a family again. Ah. But...Being with you was impossible. And Dick would be enough. He would. He was already enough...

“How long are ya gonna torture yourself exactly ?”

That boy was too smart for his own good. Bruce said :

“I’m not. I just...I can’t be with her.”

“I cAn’T bE wITh hEr !! ...Why ?!”

“You saw what happened, when it was made official we were together. She almost died.”

“And you saved her. Your point being ?”

“Dick...”

“Don’t -he takes a mock Bruce voice- “Dick” me mister ! You’re afraid to be happy, and I won’t have it. You gave me another chance to have a family. A dad. And I’m not about to let my dad punish himself for feeling good. You told me yourself my parents would like for me to be happy. Well yours would too, you big idiot ! So now, you listen to me.”

Dick, meaning business, jumps on the stairs’ bannister to sort of be on eye level with Bruce, and says, pointing his finger at him :

“You take one of those fancy useless sport car, and you run after her. Capish ?”

There’s a moment of silence. During which Bruce is unsure of what to do. And then...Then he smiles at his son.

His son.

“Capish”, he simply says, and he rushes towards the garage’s entrance, under Dick’s happy look.

Success.

Bruce’s car was leaving the estate, when Alfred joined Dick at the front door.

“You did it, Master Richard.”

“I hope I did !”

“Oh you did. You did. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my son...”

Dick turned to Alfred, who couldn’t keep a straight face this time. Small tears gathered in the old man’s eyes, and sweet little Dick did not hesitate one second before jumping into his arms and giving him one of his famous “Grayson special” hug.

It’s real.

Back to square one.

You. A bad day. Looking like a mess (this time not because of the rain, but because you cried a lot). Your gap year almost over and still not knowing who you were. With no coffee, but at least, you had a tub of ice cream.

You already missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred.

You couldn’t believe those six months of “faking” would end up meaning so much to you, and feel so devastating as they ended.

You wish you had never met Bruce. And that you’d been ridiculed by Eric and Monica, that your life would still be pathetic...Pathetic maybe, but at least, your heart wasn’t completely shattered.

You don’t hear the hurried knocks on your door, at first. Entranced by your own sadness. It’s only when they become loud and insistant you react.

You really hope it’s not a journalist. They sort of tried to talk to you so many times, since you “dumped” Bruce...You knew he made sure that they’d stay away, but some were particularly persistent.

Including that awful woman from the charity, who was asking Dick those horrible questions. “Vicky Vale”, was her name, apparently. What a witch.

Clearly, the knocking wasn’t gonna go away, so you stood up, settled your tub of ice cream on your coffee table, and went to the door, ready to fight if need be.

But there was no need for fights.

At least, not in the literal sense of the term.

“Bruce ?”

He seems out of breath. Incredible, given how in shape he was. He doesn’t really leave you any time to say anything else, as he blurts out :

“I was wrong.”

He blurts out out of nowhere, and you’re even more confused. Before you could ask what was all this about, he adds :

“I was wrong. When I said you were the right person because you were “normal”. You’re everything, BUT “just a regular person”. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. You decided to help a total stranger just because. I know I helped you before, but it doesn’t compare to what you did for me. Especially on a matter that seems so silly to me now. You put yourself in a very awkward position for someone you didn’t even know. In front of the public, for a guy like me. You knew I was a “playboy”, and that I could very well use you. Yet you still put up with it. You accepted my son, even as you didn’t have to. Even as, just like me, you are so young. You were nice to Dick, even if all you needed to do was pretend. You’re...You’re...You’re just something else entirely. It feels like you know me, the real me. Like you can read my very soul. Like you’re the only one for me. I’ve known for a long time. I ignored it because I was afraid of what that meant but...but a certain little one made me realize this was time. It’s time to move on. It’s time to allow myself to be happy. And so, here I am.”

Was this...it ? The point of your gap year ? To discover that finding yourself...Meant finding your soulmate ?

It sounded silly. While at the same time, not. Because you felt it. You felt it deep within you. From the moment Bruce handed you that twenty dollars bill, fate was in motion.

You meeting Eric and Monica wasn’t bad luck. It was the opposite. It was the Universe’s push towards your real Destiny.

Towards Bruce.

“You’re not saying anything. Is this bad ? Or does it mean I blew your mind away ? I’m clearly hoping for the latter...”

Over the months, you discovered how huge of a dork Bruce Wayne could be. Even as if there was often a darkness right behind his smiles. Deep within his eyes. You discovered he wasn’t always this cocky arrogant man he portrayed himself to be while in public. How he was actually pretty funny and oh so empathetic. How...How so many things, the list seemed endless in your mind.

And it only added to everything, that he looked so unsure. And so you smile. You just smile at him. And everything you feel is in that smile.

You don’t even realize you’re holding each others now, and that you’re kissing...

It’s not pretend this time.

A real first kiss.

Though maybe all your kisses until now weren’t as fake as you pretended them to be.

In any case, this, right now, is a real kiss alright.

A real one.

Full of all the pent up emotions. Free of all the fear and hurt you both felt as you realized you were in love with the other one, yet you thought things were all “fake”.

Because it wasn't fake. It wasn’t.

“I love you.”

You don’t know who said it first. You, or him. You felt so in sync, that it didn’t matter. What is sure, is that you both said it. Before you closed the door to your apartment, leading him in.

Before you spend the night in each other’s arms.

Bruce not even thinking about going out as Batman..

For the first time in years, he decided to fully embrace being happy.

“You always told me my parents would wish for me to be happy, well yours too !” Dick said. And oh, he was so right.

By the way, I’m Batman. Surprise.

“It’s not like I didn’t know, you know.”

“Huh ?”

Oh. Oh the delight to see that surprised expression on Bruce’s face. It was quite a rare one, really. And as he finally gathered the courage to tell you who he really was, risking losing you in the process but wanting to show you his full self...

It was particularly delightful.

“Busted you on that night you saved me. As if I wasn’t going to recognized that jawline.”

“Wait, really ? I really thought you bought my lies !”

“Well now, you know not to underestimate me.”

“I...Do.”

A natural smile reaches his face, and he approaches you, pulling you to him, and laying a soft kiss on your lips. Feeling fully accepted and loved, like never before. And he could see you-

“Oh NO EWWWWWW !!!”

You pull away from Bruce’s kiss (noticing his slow grumble, displeased to lose your warmth), and look at little Dickie (your son too, now !), staring at you two, looking disgusted.

“Get a ROOOOM !!”

This makes you laugh. A lot. And oh. Oh how would you ever guess, in that moment, that one day, this “get a room !!” said in such a disgusted tone would be the trademark of your children (SIX OF THEM) whenever they’d see you and Bruce display any sort of affection to one another ?

You couldn’t guess, of course. But even in that moment, as you softly laughed, in Bruce’s arms, while looking at your son now making exaggerated noises and acting silly, you knew this...

This was what you’ve been looking for during this gap year.

This was who you were.

Right there.

At the heart of a loving family, even if right now, it was just the three of you (four, let’s not forget Alfred !).

The end.

_________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you liked it ? I feel particularly nervous about this one haha. Don’t hesitate to leave a little comment and reblog :), It’s always greatly appreciated, and encouraging :D. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with a new story !

#Bruce Wayne x reader #Batman x Reader #Batmom #Batfam x Reader #Batfam #Batfamily x Reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne #Batman #DC reader insert #Richard Grayson x Reader #Richard Grayson imagine #Batman imagine #Batman reader insert #Robin x reader #AU compare to main Batmom #Richard Grayson #fem!reader

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support.

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us.

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside.

Turning back to my car, I wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology. "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #once bitten twice shy

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

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Sweatpants SZN (Angel Edition)

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel goes out dressed like a hoe. Inspired by this post about my frustration by the boys wearing jeans when they sleep.

Warnings: it’s long 3k worth 😬 and a whole lotta filth

A/N: Here’s another series for my Mayan men! I already have plans for Nestor, EZ, and Miguel.

A/N 2: Special dedication to @starrynite7114 thank you for always indulging me and being a wonderful friend

To check out more here’s my masterlist and if you want notifications here’s my taglist.

Photo cred: @starrynite7114

When you first found out that Angel sometimes wore jeans to sleep it boggled your mind. You were the type of girl that took off her bra, kick off her shoes, and take off your pants as soon as you got home. So, to see Angel sleeping in his jeans was lowkey traumatizing.

As a dutiful girlfriend (and also a partly selfish girlfriend) you bought Angel some gray sweatpants. You wanted him to be as comfortable as possible and looking good at the same time. What you didn’t count on was that everyone else could appreciate the goods.

You were pouring yourself a cup of coffee of when Angel came home. He’d left early this morning before you woke up. “I’m back, querida.” You could hear him setting down bags on the table.

“Good morn-ingg,” the cheerfulness dropped out of your voice when you saw what Angel was wearing. A plain white t-shirt that was getting too tight, because of all the working out he was doing which made him almost as cut as EZ and a pair of those damn gray sweatpants you had bought for him.

“What?” Angel asked, confused at your sudden change in mood. “Do I got something on my face or clothes?” He started swiping his face and body, trying to clean the imaginary dirt off him.

“Nah, you’re good. Did you really wear that to the store?” Angel was genuinely confused. He didn’t see anything wrong with his outfit. “Yeah. Does it not match or something?”

“You really went out like that without me?” It finally dawned on Angel. He heard hints of jealousy. He didn’t know why he didn’t hear it at first, because he was so used to asking this same question. Angel did his best to keep his smile to himself, you were gonna pop a gasket when he told you where he went after the grocery store. “Yeah, you were sleeping. I doubt you wanted me to wake you up to go to the store and Vicki’s place.”

You almost spit out your coffee when Angel mentioned Vicki’s place. “YOU WENT WHERE?!” Angel began putting up the groceries because if he didn’t, he would’ve burst out laughing at you. “Vicki’s. Bishop called when I was at the store and asked if I could drop some things over.”

He was fucking with you. He was avoiding eye contact with you for a reason. “Angel!” He stopped putting the cereal on top of the refrigerator and turned towards you. He didn’t even last thirty seconds of you staring at him before he started laughing. “Screw you, Angel!” It didn’t even bother him that you were angry, your jealousy was cute to him.

Too enraptured in aggressively washing out your mug, you didn’t notice Angel walking up on you until he wrapped his hands around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder. “C’mon you can’t really be mad, can you? Remember I’m a grown man and can wear whatever I want.” He threw the line you used at him the many multiple times when he didn’t agree with the outfit of your choice.

Damn it! You couldn’t think of a great comeback. “Its not the same!” Angel’s laugh vibrated throughout your body. “Someone sounds jealous.” He sung into your ear. You elbowed him off of you and started putting up the rest of the groceries. “No! You not even all that cute to be doing all of that for.”

“Oh really?” He arched his eyebrow at you before he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Angel just made you eat your words. It was like you had a golden god standing before you and the only appropriate response would be to get on your knees to worship him. Thankfully, you had a modicum of dignity and only salivated at the man in front of you.

You were so spaced out that you allowed Angel to pick you up and set you on the counter. “What you staring at, baby?” Angel nudged his nose against yours then ran it along your neck.

“Nothing,” you pouted. Angel kissed your nose then your lips. “You sure?” He took one of your hands and ran it along his body. “Because it seems like you were appreciating my arms, my abs,” his voice got lower as your hand went lower, “my dick.” He emphasized the k. “You feel that? That’s all yours, mami. No need to be jealous, ok?”

“Okay.” You resigned your jealousy and tried to kiss Angel, but he pulled away from you. He reminded you of your agreement last night. No sex today until you and him were finished with cleaning the house, and he knew if he let you kiss him then he would end up fucking you right on the table.

Reluctantly you got up, but at least you were motivated to clean the house faster. Angel took on your shared bedroom and bathroom while you had the front of the house. There were stolen kisses between switches of cleaning supplies and smacks on the butt whenever you passed each other (which Angel pretended he didn’t like when you did it to him.)

You had just finished cleaning your part of the house when you finally allowed yourself to watch Angel cut the grass in the backyard. Grabbing two glasses of sweet tea, you went to stand in the doorway and watch Angel work. Even though they were gonna be trouble those grey sweatpants were a gift from god. They slung low enough on his hips that you could appreciated his Adonis belt. The sun beating down on him made him sweat and if it was possible you would pay an insane amount of money to be one of the sweat droplets rolling down his body.

He finally cut off the lawn mower and smiled at you perving at him. “Thank you,” he took the glass of sweet tea and chugged it down, some of it getting into his beard which made you think of other ways to get his beard wet. “All done cleaning?” He asked, backing you into the house. “Yeah,” you pulled him by the drawstrings until his phone started ringing. “Angel, no,” you whined, knowing it either wouldn’t be a short call or it would be call for him do club business.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. Angel apologized for the inconvenience and jumped in the restroom for a quick shower. Before he left, he apologized again and promised to make it up to you after the party at the clubhouse.

Angel dressing like a thot, being denied sex twice in one day, and being left alone to your own devices was not a good combination. You were doing a good job with keeping your brattiness tucked away, but when you were looking for an outfit for the party, your brattiness in the form of dark Kermit was bubbling up. In the end Kermit won.

As Angel predicted, you made it to the party before him and you were wearing the skirt, he specifically told you not to wear without him present. “Y/N, I’m begging you. Please, please go change.” The last time you wore something this risky at the clubhouse, Angel shoved you into EZ’s trailer and screwed you into tears on his bed. “Chill out, I brought my own car tonight. No one is going in your trailer.” That calmed him down only a tiny bit because he knew once his brother saw you, he was going to lose it.

“He’s gonna kill you, Y/N.” Gilly told you while glaring off anyone thinking of trying to talk to you. No one was gonna approach his friend’s girl while he was around. “The only thing he is gonna kill is,” EZ quickly interrupted you, “Please do not finish that sentence.”

Outside Angel and Coco had just arrived from across the border. “Hey man, y’all got some honeys down here.” Paul from the San Bernardino chapter ran up on them. Coco entertained him while Angel listened. He honestly hasn’t paid attention to any other women since you’ve came in your life. “Then there’s one chick, mannnnnnnn. If Gilly wasn’t acting like some damn guard dog I would’ve talked to her already.”

“Gilly got a girl?” Angel asked, opening the door. “Not to my knowledge.” Coco responded stepping in after his friend.

“Oh, there she is!” Paul pointed out to you talking to EZ and Gilly. “Man, it look like she got some good dick sucki-,” Abruptly Angel grabbed Paul by the collar. “I dare you to finish that fucking sentence.”

Paul saw the fire in Angel’s eyes, and he knew he made a big mistake. “Shit, Angel! My bad! I didn’t know she was your old lady. I won’t even look in her direction.”

“Keep it that way!” Angel pushed Paul away and made a beeline towards you. First, it was EZ that noticed him. Suddenly, the prospect was really into keeping the glasses clean. Then it was Gilly who walked away from you in mid conversation, leaving you confused until you felt the familiar mold of Angel’s body against. “You got ten seconds to walk to the backseat of your car or I’m throwing you over my fucking shoulder.” He whispered into your ear harshly while deceiving everyone else into thinking he was just giving you a hug and whispering sweet words in your ears.

The ten seconds started once he released you and you wasted no time. When Angel got like this it was better to shut up and listen. Angel ignored the ‘hellos’ and ‘what’s up, man’. He was on a mission and nothing would stop him. You were just about to open the car door when you noticed that your car was parked in front of the clubhouse. It was close enough for everyone to hear all the ungodly things Angel was about to do to you. “Aren’t you gonna move the car?” You asked when he was still behind you when you opened the back door. “Get in the got damn car,” he ordered through clenched teeth. You scrambled to get inside, from his tone you knew you didn’t want to press your luck. Once inside, Angel wasted no time. He folded you in half like a table, moved your panties to the side and dived in.

Usually when Angel ate you out, he’d warm you up. A kiss here, a kiss there, small slow torturous licks, but right now all that was thrown out the window. This was as brutal as to all the actual rough fucking he would do to you.

His teeth ran across your clit and it felt like he hit every single nerve. “Angel!” You shout out, reaching out to grab his hair, but he slapped your hand away. “Did I say you could touch my shit? Keep your hands to yourself.”

“But Daddyyy,” you whined, still making grabby hands. “What the fuck did I just say?” Angel grabbed ahold of your wrists in one hand and choked you with the other. “To keep my hands to myself.”

“Then do that shit,” he growled. He released you and went back to work. You had to settle for the handlebar by the window because Angel wasn’t easing up. In fact, he added two of his fingers furiously pumping into you. “Look at you creaming all over my fingers. You don’t even deserve them. What did I fucking tell you about this damn skirt?”

“Not to wear it.” You whimpered about to reach for his wrist, but then you remembered his warning to keep your hands to yourself. “Then you understand why daddy’s pissed. Especially when I got brothers from other chapters talking about how fine you are and how you got some good dick sucking lips.”

“I’m so sorry, daddy.” He hovered over you to give you a quick peck. “It’s okay, baby. You’ll make it up to me by screaming my name.”

Still keep his fingers in you, Angel suckled your bud. The combination of his cold rings in your heated core and his tongue flicking your clit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. “ANGELLLL, FUCKKKKKKK!” You screamed, beating on the surprisingly strong window.

“Keep cumming.” Angel’s voice was muffled by your pussy in his mouth, but you heard him clearly.

Finally, you calmed down but now you were jonesing for Angel’s dick. You went for Angel’s belt but he back away from you as far as the car allowed you to. “Daddy, I need you to fuck me please.”

“I needed you to be a good girl and listen, but we all can’t get what we want.” Angel felt bad when he saw your dejected little face. He decided to give you a little something else also you didn’t say his name enough for him to let everyone know you belong to him. “If you promise to be a good girl, I’ll give you something to hold you over.”

“I promise, I’ll be good!” Angel laughed at how quickly you agreed to it. He slid your panties off and scooted you closer to him. He grind his clothed groin against your bare one. The friction of the fabric of his jeans on your sensitive clit had you on the verge of tears. “Nah, don’t start that shit,” Angel slapped you. “We still have a party to attend.” Was this man fucking crazy? He expected you to face everyone after this?

Angel proceeded to dry hump you as if he was actually fucking you. “Oh my god, Angel! Just like that. Keep fucking me just like that daddy.” He bent down and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Yeah? You gonna cum all on Daddy’s jeans like a good little slut, huh?”

“Yes, please. I need it so bad, daddy.”

“Ok, just for you.” Angel pressed down on your hips and pummeled into you. “Angel, Angel, Angel,” you chanted his name over and over again while you came for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

Angel enjoyed your shuddering underneath him, but he couldn’t enjoy it for too long. You two had a party to get to. Taking your panties, he rolled them back up and then fixed your skirt. “When we get out of here you stand in front of me since you made a mess on my jeans, ok.”

“Ok,” Angel pulled you out of the car and smoothed out your clothes. While he did that you tried to clean his face since it was soaked with your juices, but he wouldn’t let you.

The two of you came back in the clubhouse, where the lights illuminated Angel’s face. Gilly was outside when everything happened and when he just saw Angel’s face he shuddered in disgust and called Angel a nasty fuck.

After Gilly left, Liza, head of the Angel Reyes fan club walked up to you two, but she completely ignored you. “Heyy Angel. You looked really good this morning. Sweatpants season suits you very well.” With no shame she dragged her eyes all over his body but was disappointed when you were blocking his crotch.

“Yeah, my girl got them for me. Thanks babe.” Angel turned to you, gave you a kiss, and allowed you to take advantage of it. You took control and basically were swapping spit with him in front of this girl. “Mmm, you taste just like me.” Swiping your thumb across Angel’s bottom lip, you collected some of your lip gloss and juices, and then put it in your mouth. Liza stomped off and Coco called y’all sick fucks.

Just like Angel said, he used you as a shield. The entire night you were stuck like glue. His beer got empty and when you attempted to get up to get him another, he slammed you back down on his lap and yelled at EZ to bring him another. Soon, you figured it had less to do with his now dried and stainless crotch and more to do with your short ass skirt.

The evil bastard also did it so you could constantly feel his erection. It was so bad that you would zone out and think about how great Angel would feel inside of you. You were so deep in your thots thoughts that you hadn’t realized Bishop came and asked you a question. The men around the table laughed at your confused huh and Bishop repeated his question. Quickly you recovered and gave him a smart answer.

“Can’t focus, mami?” Angel smiled against your neck and thrusted his hips, causing more friction between your legs.

Fucking tease! Two can play at that game. The rest of the night you would grind in his lap, making him lose his concentration. You were the reason he lost poker twice that night. Eventually he got tired of your antics and you two finally left the party.

“Imma hit the shower and get all this desert off me. How about you sit and get ready for daddy, hmm?” Angel didn’t wait for your answer and began stripping, leaving a trail of clothes from your bedroom to the bathroom. While he showered you put on your canary yellow Fenty lingerie set. It was one of the few Angel didn’t rip because he loved how it complimented your skin.

Usually Angel came out in a towel or butt ass naked but this time he came out with those damn sweats on. And just like that all the pumping up and the shit talking you did was gone. At this point you were gonna let Angel ruin you.

“Fuck querida, you’re beautiful.” Still standing, Angel bent over, buried his hands in your hair, and kissed you to the point that you almost forgot your own name.

When he ended the kiss, you could feel the energy shift. Daddy Angel was back in the building. He backed away to sit in the chair, but never turned his back on you, so you could keep an eye on his dick print. “Come crawl to Daddy, hermosa.” He crooked his finger at you.

As you made your way to him, he pulled his dick out. You wanted to get to him faster, but that wouldn’t be sexy at all, so you paced yourself. Angel didn’t make it easy for you though. He took his dick out and started stroking it.

Fuck that slow shit, you sped up some more causing Angel to chuckle. “Grab it.” Angel took his hand off of himself and you quickly replaced it with yours. “Feel that, mami? That’s all because of you.” It felt amazing to know you could cause this type of reaction out of Angel.

Normally, Angel would slap his dick in your face, but since he gave you free reign you did it yourself. You enjoyed the hiss that came from you slapped it on your tongue. “See that’s your dick, baby. Now suck it like it yours.” Angel laced his hands behind his head as you went to work.

Keeping your eyes on Angel, you swirled your tongue over the salty mushroom head and kissed the underside. “Stop teasing, querida.” Fluttering your eyes, you tapped his dick against your pursed lips. “What do you mean?” Taking a chunk of your hair, Angel pulled back your head. “You know what I mean. Start sucking or I’ll fuck your throat until no sound can come out of that smartass mouth of yours.”

It really shouldn’t have, but that little threat turned you on more. Behind your back you grabbed opposite elbows, you were gonna make Angel lose his mind with no hands. Easily (thanks to much practice), you took all of Angel in. Bobbing your head up and down you made your man squirm underneath you. “Fuck, just like that baby.” Angel was close, you could tell by the hitch in his voice. So, you played the dangerous game and backed off, only to give him slow, long licks.

“Y/N,” he growled your name in warning. “What?” You asked innocently while unhooking your bra, letting your breasts fall out. “Keep playing this game if you want to. You won’t think it’ll be funny in a little bit.”

To appease your man, you wrapped your tits instead of your mouth around his cock, stroking him that way while occasionally licking the head. “Shit, shit, shit.” Angel abruptly pulled away from you, lifted you from the ground, threw you on the bed, and ripped your panties off. “Angel!” He shoved his sweats off and pumped his cock while he climbed into bed. “I’ll buy you another set. Fuck I’ll buy you all the sets.”

Just like in the car Angel had your ankles by your ears, but this time he actually had his dick inside of you and your orgasm was automatic. “Damn, already? Who’s making you cream like this, mami?”

“You are Daddy,” you whined, clutching onto him. “Mmhmm that’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!” You screeched when Angel’s fingers found your clit. “And whose dick is this?”

“Mines,” you yelled as Angel kept hitting that golden spot. “Then start acting like it! Ain’t no other bitch about to take it. This all your dick.”

Pulling Angel by the back of the neck, you kissed him. “Keep fucking me just like that, Daddy. I wanna cream all over my dick.”

“Yeah?” Angel tilted your chin and nipped at your lips. “You like when I fuck you like a whore?” Angel drew back, almost pulling all the way out and then snapped his hips against yours. “Good fucking pussy. Can I cum in my pussy?” You nodded your head furiously. “Yes daddy, fill me up please.”

With a couple of more snaps of his hips Angel had both of you screaming in ecstasy. Each of your orgasms prolonging the other’s. It felt like hours before either one of you caught your breath.

“Sooooo, is it a good or bad thing that I bought some more sweats?” Angel asked, already going down on you, not waiting for an answer.

“Good, definitely gooood!” You shrieked when you felt the first lick.

Thank god for sweatpants season.

Tags: @starrynite7114 @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @langiinspirations @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @spookys-girl @brownsugarcoffy @thesandbeneathmytoes @fvckthisbxtchup @theartisticqueen @vsfavs @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl @marvelmaree @strawberrywritings @blessedboo @sadeyesgf @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @woahitslucyylu

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #mayans m.c.#mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans fanfic

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

Text

Rosy Carnation

Pairing: painter!Min Yoongi x skater!reader (non-idol! au)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some talk about social anxiety, Yoongi is a bit harsh in the beginning but rest is just pure fluff

Word count: 6k

rating: pg

Summary: There was nothing in this world that Yoongi hated more than busybodies. Unfortunately for him one particular ditzy skater decides to break the peace by crashing into his life and offering him a rosy carnation

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner (thank you @mochi-molala for giving me the artistic approval for this think you didn’t realise how much it helped)

This is part 3 of my Love Blossom series and quite unedited, i tried but some mistakes may have escaped my notice

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

There was nothing more peaceful than being able to sit by the river in the early hours of the morning. Every day without fail, Yoongi would take advantage of the sleeping city and set camp by the riverside situated just on the outskirts.

The place was far from being secluded, its location sign-posted by the popular park that housed it. But he knew that during those hours no one bothered to visit, everyone was busy with their office jobs. It wasn’t that he was unemployed, it just so happened that his job allowed him to work from wherever and at whatever time. In fact, the more scenic the location the better for him. As a painter he had the freedom to choose his office, and his most prefered location happened to be by the riverside. The stillness of the morning, the sun just about to peek out from under the city skyline and the sound of the birds conversing amongst each other relaxed him. And if there was one thing that permitted Yoongi to paint without restrictions, was the tranquility of everything around him.

His normal spot, under a beech tree, was rarely used, the pathway that passed by it not being used by the general population. Sometimes he would spot the occasional cyclist passing by on their way to work, sometimes he would hear the scraping of the skateboards doing tricks in the skate park located behind the wall of trees that surrounded him. But no one ever bothered him, or was bothered by him. And it suited him and his needs just fine.

Yoongi disliked it when his flow was interrupted. Luckily for him, it rarely happened. No one threw him more than a glance as no one found the scene to be out of place. Sometimes he would be pulled out of his thoughts by the yap of a dog that got too excited at the prospect of a new human. Other times he would be questioned by the curious child that has never seen a painter at work. Those did not inconvenience him, the innocence and sincerity of the interference was enough to not disturb him.

However, what he miscalculated that day was the early start of the fishing season. One bad trait of being a painter working under your own schedule was losing track of time. And so when that one morning he trudged along with his canvas and his tools to his sacred spot only to find it occupied by fishermen he almost had a panic attack. He forgot all about that, and so unprepared, he did not know what to do or where to relocate. Pausing for a couple of minutes, his eyes scrutinising the men sitting on the riverbank in complete stillness, he contemplated on setting up his stool next to them. But when one of them yelled in glee at having caught a fish, he decided he’d rather not. Fishermen needed to be still because of the nature of their activity, that did not mean they were quiet people overall.

Disappointed and a bit frazzled, Yoongi picked up his canvas from where he set it next to his foot and left the area to scout for a substitute.

After what felt like a good few minutes of walking in circles, he found himself passing by a small public garden right in the middle of the greenery encompassing the riverside. He inspected it quietly, his eyes taking in the flower arrangements and the neatly cut grass. Has that always been there? Probably, it is not like he ventured out of his safe spot. But now, when forced to he realised that maybe there were other places where he could sit and paint in peace. Determinately, he walked into the small gated garden familiarising himself with the layout. There were some benches strewn across the space, all of them framed by vibrant rose bushes, some young oak trees judging by their height but what caught his eye most importantly was the small gazebo tucked away at the back of the garden gated by rows of variously coloured carnations. He decided that it would be the perfect spot, it would have to do for now. Not like he had any other choice. The morning was almost gone, the heat of the midday sun bleeding its way into the breeze. Soon the park will get busier and busier.

Dumping his belongings on the ground he sets off to unpack everything so he could get started. He felt strangely excited about this new spot he had found. Somehow, the novelty of the environment has given him the inspiration that he needed for today’s session. He normally shied away from new experiences, new people and most importantly unexpected circumstances, but this circumstance was more than welcome.

As he sat on his stool, paint brush in hand, the blank canvas staring at him, daring him to fill it with his vision he bit his lip. Suddenly so many ideas zoomed through his mind that he had a hard time deciphering which one sounded the best.

However, none of them made it on the actual canvas.

A skateboard zoomed straight past his feet,out of control, knocking into his carefully placed tools; acrylics and brushes scattered all over the ground in various corners of the gazebo. An exasperated yell and some harsh pants followed said abomination. Yoongi, who was too stunned to even form a sentence or comprehend what was happening around him, stared as you ran towards him at full speed.

“I’m so sorry, sorry sorry sorry” you repeated zooming towards him at breakneck speed. Still in shock Yoongi still couldn’t process what was happening around him. You were going to barrel straight into him but all he could do was blink, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation. One moment you were running towards the skateboard and the next moment found you laying sprawled at his feet.

“Ouch” Yoongi blinked once, twice, three times, and reality finally caught up with him.

He stared at the mess around him. His canvas was lying on the ground a few good feet away from him, its white clean surface now completely smudged with dirt and his acrylics and brushes were all scattered at his feet. The sight of his paints not only disorganised in such a fashion but also crushed and spilled all over the ground caused his stomach to drop. They were not the cheapest and they were also the only ones he had left. It was clear there was nothing to salvage, he had to go once more to the art store and buy more.

“Ohmygod i am so sorry!” The frantic voice was loud enough to make Yoongi wince.

You were not having a good day, and it showed. You started the morning by burning your toast. Then you forgot to grab your keys, which resulted in you having to beg your landlord for the spare in the early hours of the morning. To say they were not pleased was an understatement. You spilled coffee on your white top on your way to the park. And to top it all off you ended up hurtling towards an extremely handsome man.

You decided in the morning that you would try to learn that late kickflip your friends have been trying to teach you, but as a new skater you decided to practice in the garden just off the side of the skate park. One foot placement went wrong and your skate ran from under your feet flying towards the unsuspecting victim.

Luckily it did not hit him, however it scattered all of his belongings all over the dirty ground. It felt as if you were watching all of that happen in slow motion, when in reality it probably only took you a second to react. Trying to help and get a hold of your skate, you rushed to catch it in time before it disappeared into the row of carnations. But you miscalculated entirely the distance between you and the stranger, his foot halting your run.

And that is how you ended up there, on the floor, at his feet, covered in his paints.

You sprung up as fast as you could ignoring the tingling in your leg and started apologising profusely. However, the harshness at which you crashed on the floor combined with the speed at which you got up were a fatal combination. The blood rushed to your feet quicker than you could process and your knees gave out from under you. In an attempt to not crash onto the floor again you grabbed onto the closest stable object you could. Only, it happened to not be an object but a person. So with a clammy hand you latched onto the man in front of you.

Yoongi did not know what to do. You had grabbed onto him with such conviction that his brain malfunctioned. He hated to be touched, especially by strangers. And so when the fight or flight instinct kicked in he shrugged you off violently causing you to crumple on the floor once again.

“Ouch.” Your butt hurt and you wanted to be annoyed at him, but when you looked up to let your feelings known and your eyes locked onto his panicked ones, you paused. He looked ready to run off on you. “I- uh, am sorry” You tried once more to get up, this time as slowly as you could. You knew there would be a bruise later but it was not something you were unfamiliar with.

Yoongi did not respond to you. He couldn’t, his brain was still ready to shut down. He normally ran away from any human interaction, the nature of his job enough to facilitate such behaviour. Being faced with it and in such an unexpected way caused his anxiety to be at an all time high. And so he did what he normally does best; he retreated within himself completely ignoring your apology.

Silently he stepped away from you and crouched down to start picking up his belongings. With an anguished sigh he took in the mess that his acrylics had become. It was going to cost him a lot to be able to replace them but what other choice did he have?

Taking his silence as a sign of anger, you panicked. If there was one thing you could not stand was to see someone angry. Especially when it was directed at you. In an attempt to amend yourself to him you crouched down next to him and started picking up his stuff. “I am really sorry. I didn't mean to. It was just a new trick that i wanted to learn, and i am a newbie at all this and so i was scared to go to the skate park and try them. And I am a clutz and I knew this was going to happen at some point! The day has already started on such a bad note-”

You knew you were rambling, you were nervous. But Yoongi did not care about that. He just wanted you gone. He wanted his peace back, he wanted to get his work done and retreat back to his home and most importantly, he wanted you to get your hands off of his possessions.

Without looking at you, he harshly grabbed for the brushes that you had gathered in your hand. “Leave” he surprised himself at how resolute he managed to sound despite the slight waver in his voice.

“Are you angry? Oh my god you are! I am so sorry again, let me make it up to you! I really did not mean to destroy your work!” you get up once more rushing towards the canvas that lay a few feet away from the two of you. Picking it up you stare at the blank piece of material.

“Oh, are you an artist?” you turn to him, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Completely forgetting the incident from earlier you giddily walk over, the canvas extended towards him.

Yoongi could not believe his eyes, your brash behaviour in front of a complete stranger that has made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you was baffling to him. He contemplated for a second the thought of you being deaf, but then no because you had clearly heard him the first time. His anxiety quickly morphed into annoyance, if you weren’t going to leave he decided he would.

Taking a hold of the canvas you were handing over to him he pulled it out of your hands and stuffed it under his arm. Crouching down again he hurriedly stuffs his brushes and acrylics in his bag. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could before you had the chance to touch any of his belongings again.

“Hey, i-uh. Please don’t be angry. I really am sorry. Look you don’t have to leave, i will go” Yoongi paused, his hand hovering above his palette. Chancing a glance at you, his eyes widened a fraction. You looked completely frazzled. Not even looking at him, your eyes focused on your fretting hands. He could just about see a snippet of your face and the way your bottom lip was trembling slightly made his anger melt a little. Maybe he has been a bit too harsh on you.

“Yes” he offers offhandedly whilst placing his canvas back to where it was before.

At his change in tone your head snaps up and you gape at him. “What?” you breathe out in surprise. His soft but deep voice took you by surprise. It was extremely smooth and you had not expected it to come out of his mouth.

He did not offer you anything else, leaving you gawking at him, watching as he set up his canvas onto the easel. You were silent for a couple of minutes trying to understand what he had meant when it finally hit you.

“Ah! You are an artist! That is amazing, what type of paintings do you do? Is it nature?” you clapped your hands excitedly. “Of course it is nature Y/N, he is in the middle of the gazebo how dumb can you be” you muttered to yourself whilst shaking your head.

Yoongi glanced at you from his periphery. He wasn’t feeling as threatened by your presence as he had before, but that did not mean he was comfortable with you being there. He observed you for a couple of seconds watching as you muttered to yourself for the time being. He took it as a chance to set his palette down and tried to squeeze whatever was left of his acrylics onto it.

You realised a bit too late that you had started daydreaming whilst muttering to yourself and so with rosy cheeks you mutter another apology.

“You apologise too much.” Yoongi did not know where his courage had come from but he couldn’t stop the words spilling from his mouth. “I asked you to leave.” His harsh words caused you to flinch, but your eagerness to see him paint rooted you on the spot.

“Is-uh,” you took a deep breath in trying to calm your beating heart, “is it ok if i stay here and watch you?” You cringed at how voyeuristic that sounded. But you had to admit to yourself, the honey haired guy, with soft plump cheeks and pouty lips has caught your interest and you were not ready to part with him just yet.

Yoongi didn’t respond, he’s made it clear he wanted you gone, but he finally understood that the clumsy human that managed to wreck his set up was a stubborn one. He chose instead to ignore your presence and settle on his painting, giving you unspoken permission to do as you pleased.

Catching onto the meaning of his silence you beamed and sat yourself down.

Trying your hardest to be silent you bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate you disturbing him any longer. Soon enough, you slipped into a daydream your eyes focused on the flowers behind the hunched form of the intriguing artist.

Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, his painting was finally finished. He had opted to use greens this time, the nature around him inspiring the concept behind this. However, he could not help but add the dots of red here and there, its fiery tumultuous colour breaking the tranquility of the greens. Just like you had thundered into his life just earlier.

“Woah” broken out of the daydream by the sound of his sigh, your eyes focused on the painting before you. You knew you were easily impressed but this painting was stunning. “That is so cool” you whispered in awe.

Yoongi blushed, he had been complimented a lot on his work, but there was something about the sincerity shining through your statement that frazzled him. He nodded in acknowledgment. He had enough knowledge to be aware that he needed to thank you for the compliment.

“Oh!” you sprung up suddenly the transition making him jump. “I am late!” You quickly picked up your skateboard. “Ah,” stopping mid run you turn back. Rushing to the bushes of carnations you pick one up. With confident stride you head back.

Yoongi watched you, once again his mind completely discombobulated by your abruptness. When you halt in front of him and push the flower into his hands he doesn’t know how to react. Instead he just sits there waiting for your next move, his mind once again preparing him to flee.

“It was nice meeting you….uh?” You realised you did not ask for his name, so as you urge the flower into his grasp you wait patiently for him to offer it to you. When after a minute of silence he doesn’t you try again. “What is your name?”

“So can you like...teach me how to paint?” you eyes brightened at the thought.

“What?” Yoongi sputtered. A week has passed since the first time you decided to literally crash into his life. A week of your mindless chatter. Even so, he had tried his best to ignore you and your childish view of the world. He was ignoring you, but it was not like he couldn’t hear you.

He was not expecting that request, and yet, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Your randomness and innocence has been taking his breath away from the moment he saw you. You were all over the place, clumsy and random. He did not want to sit and ponder at that thought, feeling the shiver of anxiety creep back in. Schooling his expression to a neutral one he shook his head and went back to his canvas.

“No” the harsh tone of his voice made you flinch.

Not noticing the effect his words had on you he carried on, “You’d do a very poor job of it, and it hurts to think you’d waste all this material for some doodles.” Not giving you a chance to respond he sighed and put his brush down. “Finally finished.” He sat and observed his work for a couple of moments. He was satisfied, it was not his best work but he liked the outcome. The blue colour scheme gave him a sense of peace.

Realising the silence had gone on too long he turned around to face you. You were unnaturally quiet, your face scrunched up as if in deep thought. He would have thought you’d gone into one of your daydreams if not for the shiny gloss in your eyes. He could not understand why his heart did that flip, or why his mouth formed into a frown mirroring your own. Had he said something wrong? Mulling over his words he decided that maybe his tone was too harsh but you spoke up before he could try to remedy it.

“Ah, i see, you are right” you sniffed trying to mask the tears in your voice. “I am quite clumsy, there is no way i can make something as beautiful as this.” You gesture to his work, the canvas a swirl of blues, it reminded you of the ocean. You did not know why his words stung, it’s not like he didn’t have a point. You were probably incapable of creating something like that. Stick figures were all you could draw, and even those tended to be lopsided.

Yoongi’s heart clenched. “Uhh-” he did not know what to say, it wasn’t as if he could take it back. He did not want to take it back, he wasn’t a liar. But maybe he could have turned you down a bit softer than he has. He may have been awkward in social situations and missed a lot of cues, but the tears gathered in your eyes were hard to miss. Even he could sense the sadness that overpowered the atmosphere.

“It’s ok, i need to, uh go. I’ll see you next time. Here” you quickly drop something next to his brushes and without a second thought you turn away from him and leave as quickly as you’d arrived.

With your back turned towards him, your feet taking you further and further away you could finally release the sob that has been threatening to surface.His words hurt. But you were well aware it was not the words that caused the tear in your heart. It was the unfeeling and harsh way he threw them at you. You contemplated whether or not you should chance a glance behind you, but decided against it. You did not think you could stand the sight of him stepping on the last bit of dignity you had. A rosy carnation.

Yoongi knew he usually missed a lot of social cues. For example when the curator asked him out for a coffee and he told them he stopped drinking caffeine because it caused insomnia. Or when the gallery director had wanted to shake his hand in greeting and he simply just stared at it. It wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar with them, it was just that it took him a lot longer to process these cues than the average human being.

When you’d left him the carnation he simply threw a glance at it but did not give it a second thought as he carried on painting. He almost left it there when he packed up his tools- almost stepping on it. He saw it just in time, the rosy colour attracting his attention. He bent down and picked it up gently; the flower was almost wilted from the heat. Prepared to throw it away he thought of you and stopped. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your distressed eyes and the gleam of your tears weighing heavily on his mind. With a sigh he cradled the flower in his palm, he would put it in between the pages of a book and press it dry.

Yoongi had no clue why he kept visiting the gazebo to work on his paintings. His previous spot so rarely visited that he’s almost forgotten where it was. He tried to convince himself it was because fishing season has not ended and so he would have been bothered by the men setting up around him. He tried not to think of the fact that the thought of not having your voice there, or the noises of the skateboard you practiced with caused him distress. He told himself it was because after a month of having you there with him, you became part of his routine. Like the background noise of a radio in the morning.

He could not pinpoint when your mindless chatter and pleas to ask him to teach you how to paint had become comforting to him. Even at home when he would try to read, he would pick up a book and open it only to come across a rosy carnation drying in between its pages.

You had made it a habit to leave him a flower every time you came to see him. He did not ponder too long as to why, but he’s kept them all. He did not want to ponder too long on that thought either. So he ignored it, but deep down he knew why.

Your eagerness, your clumsiness, your childish view of the world were enough to melt the wall he has built around himself. Somehow, you chipped at that wall with determination just like you did on the first day you met. Ungraceful and uncoordinated.

He knew you’d wormed your way into his soul and just like the flowers he kept pressing for safekeeping, he’s ingrained the memory of you into his brain.

When you’d started to ask more personal questions he found himself answering without a second thought.

“So, uh, have you always wanted to be a painter?” You were sat next to him tinkering with the wheels of your skateboard, from time to time getting distracted at the way his long fingers were clutching the brush. You blushed, thankful he was distracted by his work.

“No,” Yoongi paused to bend down and pick his palette and you thought that was the extent of the information he was willing to provide. “My parents wanted me to be a lawyer.” With a new colour on his brush he squinted focusing on getting the lines just right, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

The silence that ensued settled heavily around the two of you. “Oh,” your voice did not sound too surprised. Yoongi glanced at you, you were gazing at him with such understanding that he found it hard to tear his gaze away. “Are they happy you chose to do what you love instead?” You carried on, trying out your luck.

Yoongi looked away from you, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say whilst your eyes were digging deep into his soul. “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged as if to make a point. “I left home to move here and haven’t spoken to them since.”

The words, heavy as lead, echoed in your brain. But they were not unfamiliar. “I am sure they would want to talk to you. My parents died when i was young and i was raised by my grandparents.” Your voice sounded casual, but the slight change of tone made Yoongi raise his eyes to look at you. You were smiling at him, your face not giving away any of the pain you were feeling inside.

Yoongi may have been socially anxious, but he was observant, he couldn’t help it, it was the nature of his job. His eyes picked up on the way your chin trembled and his ears caught the slight waver in your voice. He didn’t know how it happened until he felt the corners of his mouth raising up. And with an uncertain smile in your direction, he managed to erase the sadness that clouded over your face.

“Pick up that brush” his tone softer than you have ever heard it.

“Huh?” You didn’t know where the change in tone had come from, but it managed to take you by surprise.

“Pick up the brush,” he repeated his head nodding in the direction of said tools. “And come here.” He stood up from his stool gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. The contact of his cold hands on your warm ones made you shiver, but in the heat of the summer it felt comforting. You savoured the way his gentle hands pulled you into the chair and handed you the brush he had been holding. Softly he guided your hand onto the canvas and your breath stopped.

His hands, the hands you had been observing ever since you met him, were smooth. His long slender fingers imprinting themselves onto the back of your hand. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way the pale skin of his slender wrist peeked from under the long sleeve he was wearing. The skin on the inside of his wrist almost translucent enough to allow his veins to show.

“Like this” he steered the brush onto the canvas, his voice so close to your ear it made you your heart skip a beat. When the bristles made contact with the material of the canvas leaving the mark of the acrylic on it, you knew. Just like the doodle he’s made, his mark on your heart would be permanent.

Yoongi didn’t know when he started craving your touch. It just happened. He carried on giving you lessons, finding it ironic how adamant he was at the beginning to refuse you. Little by little he started looking forward to his morning ritual of setting up in the garden, your clumsy self stumbling in the gazebo just as he was about to set his easel down. He would not even sit himself first, he would grab your hand allowing himself to revel in the way your smaller rough hand would fit into his larger one and sit you on the stool. Handing you the brushes he would sit next to your skateboard and watch as you tried to create something on the canvas, your brows furrowed in concentration.

How ironic that you would switch places. He would sit for a couple of hours watching your uncertain movements and listen to the small sounds of glee when you’d manage to get the brush to do what you wanted it to. His heart would pound in his chest when your tongue would flit across your lips subconsciously and the small smile gracing his lips would be a permanent fixture on his face. He did not care that he hasn’t painted in a few weeks. He was more than satisfied watching you.

When your painting session would end you’d end up talking for hours under the shade of the gazebo, the smell of flowers wafting all around you.

And you would always leave with lighter hears and the crinkle of a smile indented in the corner of your eyes and him with a rosy carnation cradled to his chest waiting to join the rest of the others.

When one morning you didn’t arrive at your usual time under the gazebo Yoongi noticed. He decided to wait for you for hours, but when the sun bled under the city skyline and the night settled in he decided it was time to go home. With a heavy heart and an empty hand he returned home hoping that the next day you would arrive and tell him about your day.

But one day turned into two, which turned into a week, which then turned into two- and before he knew it a whole month had passed.

In the beginning Yoongi would wait for you patiently, hoping that he would hear your yelps or even your greeting from afar. When that did not happen, he decided he would use that time to continue painting, maybe you’d arrive halfway through and ask him about it. When that didn’t happen either he noticed that instead of a smile on his face he now wore a frown.

After a whole month of not seeing you he became numb to the feeling. He decided that he would not let his mind ponder too much on your absence. But he could not completely block the way his thoughts would return back to you, and he could not help the wistful gaze he would throw the carnations around the gazebo.

As the months of summer wilted into the chill of autumn, the day he decided to stop waiting for you was the day you once again stumbled into him.

Running as fast as your leg permitted you halted a meter away from him, your breath coming out in harsh pants. Yoongi faltered, the grasp he had on his brush slackening, the tool clattering to the ground. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. Instead his eyes took in the way your form trembled with exhaustion, stopping at the wrapped up parcel you had under your arm.

“I am so so so sorry” you rasped, the effort causing you to cough. Looking up at him, your gaze met his dark one. He did not look upset, or even disinterested. He looked concerned, then you realised the state you came to see him in.

Yoongi took notice immediately at the lack of skateboard, this time replaced by a crutch. The way you were favouring one leg over the other concerned him. Had you been in an accident?

“I am so sorry,” you repeated, taking him back to the first moment he’s met you. Your clumsy self apologising incessantly and rambling in nervousness. “I fell one day whilst on the way here, and i broke my leg. I did not mean to stop showing up i promise! I had wanted to come see you as soon as i left the doctor’s office but the injury was worse than i could have suspected and- and” your voice wavered, trembling in exhaustion, still not having caught your breath.

Yoongi got up without a word, his silent form approaching yours. When only a few inches were left between the two of you he places both of his hands on your shoulders halting your apology. Looking up at him your gaze softens, his eyes were glossy but his mouth curled up in a smile.

“You’re ok” he repeated over and over as if to reassure himself. Your eyes now mirroring his own watery ones you nod.

In a flash he hugs you tightly, your crutch clattering to the ground and the parcel under the other arm making a dull thud as it hit the dirty floor. You gasped in surprise, your arms not knowing where to settle themselves. After a couple of seconds your brain catches up and relaxes and you melt into his hug. Despite his hands being always cold, his hug is warm and inviting.

You think back to the first time you met, how his cold words told you to leave him be. The drastic change in his attitude and demeanour make you smile softly. You burrowed your head in his shoulder inhaling his scent. He smelt of oils and acetone with an undertone of something floral, and you gasp. Carnations.

As if remembering something important you pulled yourself away from his touch, the cold autumn air making you shiver at the loss of contact.

Yoongi is confused for a moment, his eyes widening in panic. Has he made the wrong move? Has he read your intentions wrong? His heart clenches at the thought of you not returning the feelings that bloomed in his chest. But when you offer him a reassuring smile and bend down, grabbing onto his arm for support his emotions settle.

“This is for you” your hands were shaking. Handing over the mysterious parcel, you waited patiently for him to take it.

He glances at it uncertainly, but when you push it towards him his hand wraps around it. With as much skill as he could he opened it with one hand. Tearing the paper away he gasped. The corner of a canvas is sticking through the whole.

Looking at you in surprise your nervous eyes urge him to carry on. So he does.

The paper now completely teared open, his eyes settle onto a familiar flower painted onto the canvas. A carnation.

You watched him open your gift. You had tried your hardest during the time you were stuck at home with a cast on to practice and after weeks of painful frustrated tears, you’d finally managed to get it right. You had wanted to convey your feelings in a way that he would understand without feeling the pressure to conform to societal norms. To show him how much his effort to accommodate you and include you in his secluded life meant to you.

“Did you know,” you were whispering, “that rosy carnations mean admiration?”

Yoongi finally got it, realisation dawning over his features. He looked up at you, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding his chest. You were still smiling at him a tear now running down your cheek. “I wanted to convey my admiration for you in a way that would be permanent.” The hand on his arm tightened as if you make a point. “So i tried my best to do that.”

Yoongi smiled, not the uncertain smile you were used to, a full smile, the gums of his teeth showing, his features softening.

“A painting is not eternal, but with the artist the painting it over and over again it can be.” His free hand cups your cheek gently. “So stay with me.”

Main Masterlist

#yoongi #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #btshoneyhive #btsgoldnet #suga fic #yoongi fic #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #s: love blossom #angst #fluff #matsterlist #bts min yoongi #bts suga

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atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Sweet Sugar

4 | Crosses

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: swear words, underage drinking (not much tho, nothing descritive and nothing like “Skins” lmao), suggestive scenes in some chapters, not smut!! but minors be aware. Fluff/angst/drama/ Y/n and Tom being stupid teenagers with feelings.

words: 2.5 k

a/n: english it’s not my first language, Sorry for any mistakes! If you want to be tag on the next chapters, please let me know

Summary: Y/n, Harrison and Tom has always been best friends. Since childhood they’ve always been close, but what happens if after a break up with her first boyfriend, she starts to feel something more about Tom

PART 4! If you want to read the other parts click here

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I woke up the other day feeling a little better, which was good. I washed my face thoroughly, put on a pair of jeans, a Beatles T-shirt along with a jacket and left my room, ready for another week of torture.

- Good morning mom... - I was saying going down the stairs, but I remembered that she had already left for work. Which was good, because that way I didn't have to talk about the party.

I had my coffee, in the silenc and soon after opened my phone, until I got on Instagram and saw that Tom had posted pictures of the party. The caption said: Thank you all! you guys are awesome! The photos from the party were great 😂

I was scrolling the photos, the first ones were all of us at the table, some were blurry of the people dancing... until I saw one of him with other people from school: Meghan was hugged him from the side making the peace sign with her fingers and he was kissing the top of her head. I sighed feeling my eyes fill with tears again. Okay, maybe I wasn't as ok as I thought.

I blocked my phone and put it in my pocket, taking my backpack and leaving the house, otherwise I would going to be late. I had to focus on school, not crying for silly things, I had to pay attention in my tests, that was more important than anything.

I went down the street and found Haz already waiting for me in the same place, I approached him and when he looked at my face, he made a pitying one.

- You saw the photos didn't you? - he asked and I nodded as he hugged me.

- It's alright Haz, I'll be fine- I said releasing him after a few seconds and he looked at me raising an eyebrow doubtingly - It's no big deal! By the way, I won't talk about it anymore, if we don't go now, we'll be late for school. - I said pulling him and we started walking.

- Okay... But just to close this subject, Tom sent me a message yesterday asking if you were okay and if there was anything wrong because you left early without saying goodbye.

- Hmm, and you didn't say anything right?

- Of course not! I just said that you weren't very used to drinking and that was all, and he believed... - Haz said and I breathed a sigh of relief.

- Good... He also texted me yesterday, he even wanted me to go to his house to tell me about Meghan.

- Well, whether way, he still thinks he's your best friend, nothing more than that...- Haz said, and I hated that he was right.

- It's true, and he's just my best friend, nothing more... - I emphasized the JUST- Did he tell you anything else about Meghan? - I asked and when Haz was going to answer I cut him - Never mind, It’s better if i don’t know. - I said waving my hand in the air.

- If you want it that way... - he replied. - Oh god you two have the same class today right? - he asked and I put my hand in my forehead. I had forgotten that I had English today for the first two classes and Tom would be sitting right next to me.

- I had even forgotten about that. But you know what? I'm going to stay there like a champ and ignore everything. - I said determined and Haz laughed feeling a little sad for me.

- Okay, I support that, but...- he was talking and I cut him again saying: shhh.

- No buts, and now enough of this subject, because we're already arriving. - I said and he rolled his eyes in agreement.

We arrived at the corner and Tom was already waiting for us as usual. He wore a blue sweatshirt and a backwards cap, black jeans and white sneakers. Obviously he was gorgeous as usual, which was ridiculous, but no sign of Meghan, which was good for now...

I tightened my grip on Haz's arm that I was hooked on and he smiled encouragingly. We got closer and Tom looked up from his phone, hanging up and putting it in his pocket.

- Hey strangers! - He said putting the backpack on his back, shaking hands with Haz and me with the usual kiss on the forehead. I lowered my eyes, smelling his scent and smirked. - You better y/n?

- I am, staying in bed all day yesterday did me good. - I said as we headed towards the stairs.

- That's good! And even better that now you have two classes with me- he said winking and Haz looked at me apprehensively.

- HA-HA, very funny. Too bad I'll have to pay attention in class and I won't be able to talk to you. - I said shrugging and Tom looked at me with an ironic face.

- Wow shortie, I felt rejected now. - He said pouting and I rolled my eyes. Of rejection I knew well.

- Well, I have to go because I have a presentation about geography, so, see you guys later? - Haz said when we arrived in the hallway, waving and looking at me discreetly as if he was saying: good luck.

- Let's go, grumpy face? - Tom said pointed for me to go ahead. I rolled my eyes looking at him, which he laughed and we went to the class.

I sat a little further back in my usual seat and Tom sat behind me. I was feeling claustrophobic, but it was only two classes, I could survive this. But when Mr. Ribbs came into the room and started talking, I lost all courage i had.

- Good morning students! Today the two classes will be more dynamic. As I know you had a difficult week, with so many papers and tests, I decided to leave these classes for you to go to the library and pick up any book to read and then give me a summary about it. - he was talking and I was excited, because I loved reading and I could still get my book and be quiet without having to talk to Tom, right? - But... I want you to do this in pairs. - wrong - Happy reading! - He said and everyone stood up forming their pairs and leaving the room one by one.

I felt someone nudge my shoulder and tooking a deep breath I turned around, seeing a smiling Tom.

- Good, reading... At least you like to read, because I with my dyslexia... - he laughed.

- Yeah good... it fit like a glove... Shall we go? - I said and we got up going towards the library. If Tom thought my way of talking was a little dry, he didn't react, which was good.

We arrived at the library and I was looking among the shelves for something easy and good for us to read.

- Y/n, darling... I have to tell you about yesterday - Tom started talking excitedly as he followed me through the halls. - After you and Haz left, a lot things happened...

- Hmm, I'm glad you had fun Tom. - I said a little disinterested picking up some books and looking at the synopsis.

- Yea! I had a lot of fun, but what happened was...

- Hey, how about we read Pride and Prejudice? It's one of my favorites, I think it's a good one, because we just need to read the main parts to refresh our memory. - I said, interrupting him.

-Yeah... Sure, I think it's a good one. - he said as I grabbed Jane Austen's book off the shelf and headed toward one of the tables.

- Shortie, how about if we read this outside? I think it's better than staying here, besides, we can talk better. - Tom said and I stopped turning around. Damn it, I was counting on staying there in the library anyway, so he wouldn't be able to say anything about the night before, because they were going to tell him to be quiet.

- Okay, good idea... - I said, giving up on to try to inventing another excuse.

We left the library and headed towards some tables outside. They were empty, except for a couple of couples scattered around the yard who had the same idea. I sat down and Tom sat next to me putting the book on the table and pulling out his notebook so we could write something down.

- So, as I was saying... We were on the dance floor, right, and Meghan and I were talking about the theater and other things, until... Guess what? - He started talking and I raised my eyebrow, while trying to distract myself with the book. - She said she thought I was cute and that I had a cute, sexy look. - He continued and I laughed ironically.

- So far so good, right... Until she just kissed me in the middle of the dance floor! - He said as if it were the most extraordinary thing in the world. Yeah, I thought with myself, I was there and saw everything, that's why I'm feeling bad and I can't even look at your face right now... I wanted to say it, but I just looked at him pretending to be interested.

- And mate, it was the best kiss of my life! We stayed together practically all night... Damn, I've dreamed about this so much since childhood...

- Good Tom, it must have been a really good birthday gift, right? - I said, looking at the book again.

- Yea! It was perfect...- he said and I could feel him staring at me. - Hey, you don't seem very excited about my little conquest... - he nudged me pouting and I looked at him.

- Nah, it's just that you guys are always hooking up lately, so I'm just not surprised...- I replied shrugging.

- Y/n Meghan is not just a hook up, she is an old passion, she is special - he said and I felt my heart ache a little while looking away. - You dont like her?

- It's not that I don't like her... I don't even know her, I just... I think she did it after you started getting more popular with the theater, because before that she didn't even look at you...

- That's not true, besides, people can change right? Maybe she realized that I'm not as bad as she thought before... I don't know... But as you said, you don't even know her, so I didn't understand you being mad like that. -he said scribbling in his notebook.

- It's not that I'm mad, I just... I didn't wake up very well today, that's all...

- Yeah... But you don't need to project that to others around you, I thought you'd be happy for me.- Tom said and I looked at him ironically.

- Yeah, but there are days when we're not okay Thomas and not in the mood to be throwing confetti at every girl your friend kiss at some party. - I said and regretted it right away, it wasn't fair to him.

Tom looked at me in surprise, as I had never talk with him like that. Even as kids we didn't fight, why was I being such a bitch now? He took his things in silence and walked away leaving me with tears in my eyes.

I shook my head trying to get rid of what had just happened. I picked up the book and tried to read it, but I couldn't even get past the first line. Damn, why did I have to have those feelings? It wasn't fair.

I thought about going after Tom and apologizing, but I don't think he wanted to see me right now. A few minutes passed and the class was almost finishing when I felt someone nudge my shoulder. I turned in hopes of seeing Tom, but was surprised to see Steven standing up in front of me.

- Are you okay? I heard you fighting with Tom earlier, I never saw you guys fight like that, so I was worried. - he asked.

- I'm fine Stev, it was just a silly disagreement, nothing to worry about. Are you okay? - I asked trying to change the subject.

- Yeah, just studying a lot, you know, I have to go to business school. - he said and I agreed. Steven always wanted to work at his father's company, but for that he had to go to business school in Japan, because there was one of the company's units there and that's where his father wanted him to live. A lot of his family was Japanese, so he had an advantage with the language and culture. But that was one of the reasons we broke up, after fighting a lot about who was going to live where. - And you still focused on journalism?

- Of course, forever and always. - I said and we laughed, hearing the bell saying the class are over.

- Well, I have to go, I have to meet Elle, good luck with your essay. - He said pointing to the book.

- For you too. - I said smiling and he left towards the building.

I got up to get my things, scanning the yard with my eyes, but there was no sign of Tom. I sighed and put my headphones on, heading towards our tree. As I was already out there I ended up arriving first, so I sat down and played the song Crosses by José González.

I waited a few minutes and saw Haz approaching and I took off my headphones as I watched him sit beside me.

- So..How everything went? Where is Tom?- he asked looking around.

- A disaster... - I said, rubbing my hands over my face. - We ended up arguing, I said some things without thinking and he left without saying anything.

- Oh y/n... I don't even know what to say, but did you confess something to him? he asked and I widened my eyes.

- No! Are you crazy? I told him I didn't trust Meghan, but in a rude way... - I said and Haz took a deep breath hugging me sideways.

- Well, you can't control your feelings...

- But I can control my tongue. - I said and we laughed a little. - How was it with Gracie? Did you guys talked today? - I said changing the subject.

- I talked to her a lot by text during class, I even asked her if she wanted to spend some time with us now, but she said she had to hang with her friends...

- Hmm. - I said putting my hand on my chin losing myself in thoughts as I watched the patio to see if I could see Tom. And after a lot of looking I found him. And there he was sitting on one of the benches near the building with Meghan hugging him, she with his cap on her head and the two of them were laughing and talking excitedly to each other. Until he gave her a kiss and she reciprocated.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland friends to lovers #tom holland series

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dr-addieramsey · 3 years

Text

Movie Night

Book : Open Heart - Post book 3 (A few weeks after they said their ' I love you's ')

Pairing : Ethan Ramsey X F!MC(Adelaide Nicholson)

Category : Fluff

Rating : Teen+

Summary : It' s just a simple movie night with zero plot....

A/N : This is my first fic so I'm sorry if it turns out to be trashy. English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes........

It was Friday night and Ethan was sitting in his living room, a medical journal in his one hand and a glass of scotch in another. His apartment was quiet and he was really grateful for the silence. It had been a hectic week. Being the Chief of Medicine was not an easy job and all he really wanted to do was enjoy his night and the next day off. Jenner was sitting by his feet.

Although he was really enjoying the silence a part of him wished that his girlfriend was there with him. Girlfriend. Although the term seemed juvenile he still couldn't believe he got to call her his. The beautiful Head of Diagnostics always soothed his mind and felt like home. He had no idea how she did that but he was grateful that he had her in his life. Ever since he had told her a few weeks back that he loved her and she - to his relief - had said those words back they both were over-the-moon happy.

This week although she had been really busy. The Diagnostics team had a really tough case assigned to them two days back and being the head of the team she had the responsibility to solve it as soon as possible before the patient got worse. On top of that she also had to review resumes and select a new member for the team. After Ethan left the team there was one spot on the team which needed to be filled. This meant extra work for her. Ethan had offered to help her with the interviews but everyone she just said "You already have so much on your plate being the chief of medicine and anyways it's the part of the job so I have to do it. Right?" He was proud of her as her mentor and boyfriend.

But tonight he just wished she could be with him. Although he had seen her in the evening before leaving the hospital he really missed her. His train of thought was interrupted by his phone that started buzzing. He looked at the caller ID and saw Tobias' name. He was in no mood to pickup the call yet he hit the 'accept call' option.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ethan! We just diagnosed the case we got two days back and we were about to go for some drinks to Donahue's. You wanna come?"

"Is Addie with you?" If she was with them and going for drinks, Ethan would go there no matter how strongly he wanted to avoid drunk interns and idiots who wanted to talk to him.

"No. We asked her to come with us but she said she had paperwork to complete. Last I saw her she was in the office. Now, answer my question. You're coming or not?"

"Thanks for asking but I'd rather sit at home and enjoy the peace of my apartment. You enjoy. Congratulations on the solve. Bye." Ethan immediately end the call before Tobias could say another word. He placed his phone on the table and picked up his journal. His phone started buzzing again. This time he picked it up without checking who it was expecting it to be Tobias again.

"Tobias I told you I don't want to go!"

"You should really stop treating him like that babe." Addie said in her melodious voice. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips when he heard her voice at the other side of the line.

"Addie! Sorry I thought it was Tobias again. So, are you still at the hospital?"

"Nope! I just left. I was really missing you. What are you doing?"

"Reading a medical journal, drinking scotch and missing you."

"Yeah? You're missing me?"

"Ofcourse..." Before Ethan could finish his sentence he was interrupted by the doorbell.

"Just a second, love. There is someone at the door." He started moving towards the door."Who could be there so late?" he muttered to himself. As soon as he opened the door he was delighted to see who was at the door. Adelaide stood at the door. She looked exhausted yet beautiful. A smile made its way on her face when she saw him.

"Hi!"

"Hello, baby!" He immediately pulled her in for a kiss. Both of them let a contended sigh when the broke the kiss. Jenner came to the door wiggling his tail. She scratched him behind his ear a few times. She took of her shoes and and coat. He immediately guided her in the living room towards the couch.

"You want something to eat or drink?"

"Yes please! Can you order some pizza or maybe make some popcorn? I would like to watch a movie with you after I take a shower, only if you want to ofcourse."

"Okay, I'll make popcorn and order pizza. You go take a shower."

She made her way to the bedroom and Ethan headed to the kitchen to make popcorn

~15 minutes later ~

Ethan was on the couch ready with blankets and popcorn. Pizza had arrived a few minutes back. Everything was set up.

Adelaide walked out of the bedroom. She was wearing his black hoodie and she had her blonde hair braided. How does she manage to look beautiful in everything, he thought to himself. She smelled lilies and vanilla because of her body wash. He loved spending his nights with her in his arms.

She snuggled next to him on the couch, her head on his chest. His arm immediately went around her shoulders as if it was second nature. Everything felt right.

"So rom-com or horror?" she asked him

"What the hell is rom-com Rookie?"

"Oh my god, Ethan you are ancient. Rom-com means romantic comedy!" She started laughing and he swore it was one of his favourite sounds.

"You're not subjecting me to that kind of stuff. Let's watch horror."

"Okay! But fair warning, I scream a lot. Your ears may start to bleed. Also save me if in have a heart attack."

"Nothing will happen to you. I'll protect you." he said laughing.

"Okay Mr. Knight in shining Armor. I'm starting the movie now."

~Half-way into the movie~

Addie was practically sitting in Ethan's lap by now. Everytime she suspected a horror scene coming up she closed her eyes and buried her head in his shoulder. She was screaming at the actors to not go in that direction or to ignore the sounds and Ethan couldn't control his laughter. As much as he would've enjoyed to just sit in silence and cuddle he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying this.

"NO! NO! NO! DON'T GO THERE YOU FOOL! HE WILL KILL YOU! OH MY GOD, ETHAN HE IS GOING TO DIE!"

"Scream a little louder and maybe he'll listen to you Rookie. Don't worry as I said I'll protect you." Ethan said laughing loudly this time. The next thing that Ethan's mind registered was a bunch of popcorn hitting his face.

"First you protect yourself!" He was not the type of person to start food fights while watching movies, but she brought out a side of him that he didn't know he had. He also picked a few popcorn and threw them at her. She filled her hands with popcorn and got up from the couch. Ethan aslo took the bowl.

"You sir, have started a fight." She threw more popcorn at him. He reacted immediately throwing popcorn at her.

"Ethan stop! It'll get stuck in my hair!"

"You're the one who started it Rookie." He got up and wrapped his arms around her. They both were looking in each other's eyes. Blue and green met and both were filled with adoration.

"I love you, Addie"

"I love you too, Ethan"

Their lips met in a kiss. It was soft and gentle at first and then it grew passionate. Their mouths danced together. She put her hands on his chest and he put his and on the small of his back. They broke the kiss and looked into each other's eyes filled with desire.

"I think we have had enough of the movie. I have better ideas."

"Well I never say no to 'better ideas.' "

He lifted her and she started giggling. He carried her to the bedroom and shut the door.

~The next morning~

Ethan woke up when the sunshine entered the room. He moved his hand to the other side of the bed and it was cold. He groaned and got up. He started looking for Addie around the apartment.

When Ethan entered the kitchen he saw some pancakes and a cup of coffee on the table. It looked like it was freshly made. He smiled when he saw the sight. He moved towards the table he saw a note beside the plate. He picked it up and started reading.

Good morning,

I had to leave early for my shift. I made you breakfast. I'll come back in the evening. I'll have my break 10 a.m. Call me if you're free. Enjoy your day off. I'll miss you all day long. Love you.

Addie❤️

P.S. : I gave Jenner his food

Ethan was filled with love for this woman. He considered himself the luckiest man in the universe and promised to never let her go.

I know it was wierd 😂. Again I'm sorry for any mistakes.......

@openheartfanfics

#open heart fanfiction #open heart #ethan jonah ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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stevesnailbat · 4 years

Note

32 and 39 with steve

“the baby...it’s yours.” + “just go!”

summary: Steve’s girlfriend finds out she’s pregnant after an argument, and she’s afraid to tell him the truth.

warnings: a lot of angst, mentions of pregnancy

word count: 2.0K

a/n: i’m BACK!!!! i finished finals today and will be back to posting fics this week :) also i did a lot of research on 80’s pregnancy tests for this—they’re nothing like what they are now so if you’re curious, here’s what they looked like

Buying a pregnancy test at eighteen years old was something no girl really wanted to go through. But missed periods and too many early-morning runs to the bathroom warranted that horror.

The closest store that sold pregnancy tests was Melvald’s, but she really didn’t want to go there. Hawkins was a small town, everyone and their mother would find out if she bought the test from there. She knew that she’d have to go out of town if she wanted to be discreet about it, but it seemed out of the cards in the moment.

Another wave of morning sickness had rolled around for the third day in a row, and she knew it was time to find out for sure. She skipped school on that Wednesday to make sure she ran into the least amount of people possible. It seemed like a death mission honestly, all she wanted was to avoid everyone in the godforsaken town, but she knew someone would find her.

She was sure she looked like a wreck when she walked into Melvald’s. It was empty besides two people at the front of the store, who she didn’t even bother looking up at. As soon as she spotted the not-so discreet box on the shelf, she snatched it hastily and made her way up to the front. Her heart sunk to her stomach when she looked up to see Joyce standing behind the counter as Chief Hopper spoke to her on the other side.

Joyce stopped listening to whatever Hop was saying as she saw Y/N, her halfway-amused expression falling to one filled with concern. Hopper whipped around to see what she was holding and did the same, frowning down at her. They knew who’s child it would be, they knew they were on the rocks, they knew she was scared to even tell him.

They didn’t say much as she checked out, only a few small words of encouragement and comfort from Joyce filled the silence. She felt like she’d let them down, they had grown to be like parents to her during the hell that they’d all been through. She asked them to not tell anyone, not yet at least. She knew they wouldn’t, but she wanted to be sure that nobody would find out unless she wanted them to.

—

If nothing showed up on the stick, it meant negative. If it turned blue, it meant positive. She read the instructions at least twenty times in the thirty minute period that it took for the test to develop. There was something in the back of her mind that was telling her the whole time what the answer was, but she wanted to be sure.

Blue is positive.

She sat there with a blue-tinged stick in her hand for what seemed like an hour. She was in disbelief, she couldn’t believe what she was actually seeing. It was all settling in when there was a knock on the front door. She couldn’t bring herself to answer it, she was numb and in shock and her mind was going a hundred miles a minute.

In the day that she had been gone from school, she’d thought about Steve a lot. She knew she couldn’t call him, though. Three nights before, they had argued about where they’d go after her senior year and the bickering went to a new level. He had told her that he didn’t want to leave Hawkins and she had told him he needed to turn the page, striking a nerve. That night ended in her storming out of the house after he sent some backhanded comments in her direction to retaliate, they stuck her a little too deep that time for some reason. They were both too stubborn to admit when they were wrong, which usually ended in a short period of time without calling each other on the phone to apologize. Usually after a day of not talking, she’d end up back at Family Video after school with a bag of greasy food as a peace offering, but this time was different.

Steve had thought about his girlfriend all day and grew worried about her once 3 PM rolled around on the second full day of no contact. She didn’t show up to his work and it gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach, like it wasn’t just the argument that was stopping her from visiting him. After his shift ended, he bolted to her house. His knock on the door went unanswered, but her car was in the driveway. He knew she’d give him shit for invading her privacy later, but he let himself in anyways. He needed to make sure she was okay, he needed reassurance that his gut feeling was hopefully wrong.

The knock on the bathroom door was what finally brought her back to reality, making her jump at the sound.

“Hey, it’s me.” Steve called out from the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

“No! I mean—Just wait out there.” she said, panic rushing through her as she frantically cleaned up the mess of the pregnancy test, which wasn’t really an easy task with all of the liquids and mess that the box came with.

She shoved the positive stick into the front pocket of her sweatshirt, glancing at herself in the mirror before reaching for the door handle to make sure she didn’t look to god awful. Steve stood on the other side and watched as she cracked the door open enough to see her face, he frowned at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. He tried to push the door open a little more as she finally locked eyes with him, but she wouldn’t let him.

“Why are you here?” she snapped, realizing she had sounded a little more harsh than she had meant to when he flinched slightly in response. “Well, why’d you break into my house, actually?”

“I was worried about you, Y/N.” he said genuinely, reaching to touch her hand as it rested on the door frame. “Can we talk? Somewhere outside of the bathroom, preferably?”

“I’m fine, Steve. I’m just not feeling good today.” she lied, shrugging her shoulders as she ignored his request. “You can go, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I haven’t seen you in two days, Y/N. I can help you, what do you need?” Steve offered, he sounded desperate for her attention now. “I can make you some soup, we can lay in bed all day. I’m—I’m sorry I was such an ass, I shouldn’t have said those things—“

“Steve, stop.” she said as she felt her lip begin to quiver, she bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her tears. “I don’t need help. I just want to sleep, okay?”

“Please, baby.” Steve begged, finally able to push the door open a little to get closer to her. “I’m sorry and I love you, I don’t deserve you. But I want to make this better, alright?”

“Steve, please.” she replied, he shook his head in protest as she held a hand out to block him from getting closer. “Just go! We—We can talk about this another time."

“No! I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” he proclaimed, watching as she shoved her hands into her sweatshirt pocket—little did he know, his world was about to be turned upside down by what was inside. “Is this about me not wanting to move? Because if it is, I—I’ll move anywhere, Y/N. I’ll move to another state, another country, across the world if I get to be with you. I was being selfish that night and I’m sorry. Please, can we just talk about this?"

She didn’t want to tell him, she really didn’t. She just wanted him to leave, he didn’t deserve the burden of a child right now. But, he was desperate for answers, and desperate Steve was stubborn as hell. She felt his hands reach to cup her cheeks gently, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. He looked too sad for her to push him away again too, it looked like he was on the verge of tears too. He was telling himself that this was the end, and it was tearing his heart out piece by piece with every second that passed.

A breath hitched in her throat as she gripped the stick in her hand, hesitantly pulling it out of her pocket. She stared down at it for a moment before Steve even noticed it. Carefully she watched as Steve’s face changed from sad to shocked to confused in the span of three seconds, and her heart dropped as he pulled his hands away from her slowly. His brows knitted together as he reached for the blue-tinged stick, still trying to process what she was showing him.

“You—You’re pregnant?” he questioned, finally looking up at her to see the tears that had started streaming down her face.

“Y—Yeah.” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “The baby…it’s yours. O—Obviously."

He didn’t say anything for a moment, only leaning against the vanity as he fully took in the situation. Steve muttered ‘fuck’ under his breath as he stared down at the blue, shaking his head. If her heart hadn’t been broken before, it was now for sure. His reaction was what she had expected, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. She hadn’t cried more than a few tears about the situation before then, but the fact that he wasn’t saying anything to her made her break.

A sob wracked her body as she leaned against the wall behind him, sliding down it to curl herself into a ball on the floor. The cry broke Steve from his daze and he was next to her in an instant. He hadn’t really meant to react the way that he did, but this was quite the opposite of what he’d expected out of coming to her house.

“No, no, please. Fuck, I’m sorry baby. Don't—don’t cry, please, I’m right here.” he assured her, sitting next to her so he could pull her into his lap.

“I’m sorry, I—I’m so sorry.” she whimpered, burying her head in the crook of his neck as his shirt muffled her sobs. “I—I’m ruining your life.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve questioned, but she didn’t reply. “Y/N, please look at me.” he pressed, coaxing her by running his fingers along her scalp gently. “You’re not ruining my life at all, alright? If anything, I should be sorry for not being here for you! But mistakes happen, and we’ve both made some recently, it’s okay though. Of course this changes things a little bit, but it doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

“Y—You don’t want to leave me?” she asked innocently, the genuine surprise in her voice making his heart ache; she had really planned on doing this all on her own.

“Of course not, I could never leave you. I was so scared that you were leaving me, honestly. This was the last thing that I expected.” he chuckled quietly, smiling at her sweetly. “It’s okay though. It’ll be alright, okay? We’ll be alright, we’ll work through this and make sure this baby has the best life we can give it.”

She sniffled and nodded at his reassurance, her heart fluttering as he kissed her forehead softly. Steve smiled at her once more before sliding one of his hands along her stomach, caressing it gently as he finally came to terms with the whole situation. He knew he wouldn’t feel anything as he touched her stomach, but the thought of his own child in there was enough to make his heart swell.

“Does anyone else know yet?” he asked, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb on her hip.

“Well, I bought the test from Melvald’s, Joyce was working and Hopper was there too. So they know, but nobody else.” she sighed, resting her head against his chest once more. “But, y’know, I don’t think Dustin or any of the kids are gonna be too happy about this.”

“Why’s that?” Steve hummed.

“Because they’ll have even more competitors for your attention.” she giggled softly, Steve laughed in reply.

“I’m sure they’ll get over it.” he said with a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

tags: @sourapplebaby @harringtown @jxnehxpper @a-magey @queenofthehairharrington @charmed-asylum @igotmadskills @daddystevee @heart-eye-harrington @lemonypink

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deathvalleyusa · 3 years

Text

day’s eye

Summary: In the eyes of a child named Daisy, Alfie Solomons is a thing of adventure books and mythical tales. As she grows he seems to morph to even more mythical proportions. That is, until Margate shows Daisy just how mortal and human Alfie is. ONE SHOT.

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Child OFC, OFC

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, S5 spoilers

A/N: Wrote this a while ago but only recently picked it up again. I had plans to write a fic about Nora (Daisy’s mom) and Alfie but this ended up happening instead lol. x-posted from AO3.

When one grows up without a father, people assume a terrible fate befell him. The War. An accident. Perhaps he had found himself in trouble with one of the many gangs that ran the streets of every city on British soil. His absence could be explained away.

When one grows up without a mother, death is often called upon as the excuse as well. Childbirth. Influenza. Beatings no one saved her from.

But in certain cases, the father is simply gone and the mother still lives and breathes. Daisy was one such case.

Her mother, a lovely woman named Nora, had dreams. Visions of a house, a garden, and a job to keep her steady. Daisy was a part of the vision, but not a part of the journey thus far. So at her grandparents cottage she stayed. Six years old, knowing her mum was somewhere else, trying her hardest.

The day Nora came for Daisy was one of excitement. Tears. Good-byes from her Papa and Gran, hugs that melted into her skin. A buzzing ecstatic feeling as they boarded the train, heading to a place called London.

"It's all new there for us, Daisy," Nora had said. Pretty in her makeup and burgundy cloche hat. "A life for us, eh? Me and my girl?"

Daisy was not expecting to meet a man that week.

At six, she'd met her fair share of men from her grandparents' village. Her mum had never brought around anyone other than her uncle Harry. So this man was something new entirely.

Daisy had thought he maybe had been a bear before he was a man. Towering and scruffily bearded, he was an odd one.

"This is little Daisy, then?" He had asked. Voice low, accent unlike the Liverpool one she had lived with all her life. He spoke with a curiosity and a kindness, deep blue eyes twinkling.

"That's her," Nora answered, beaming. "Daisy, this is my lovely friend Alfie."

He offered a hand. Daisy stared, then gave a glance to her mum. A supportive nod, and her tiny hand met his.

It was not unlike her grandfather's, or Uncle Harry's. Worn and slightly rough on the pads, work showed it's time through calluses and small light scars. It was warm though, gentle as he shook hers before enveloping it in another large hand. Daisy couldn't help but admire his rings and the small crown tattooed into his skin.

Like a man from the pictures, she thought to herself, giving a pleased smile. Like a pirate. Or a king.

One thing Daisy learned, as she spent more time with her mother and Alfie, was how much he spoke and how rapt her mother's attention was to his words. He spun stories, rambled about the folk about town. Posed hypotheticals at Nora who would answer after a long pause. Alfie would always include Daisy, posing the same questions or asking about life in a quiet village.

Years passed. Daisy, in her infinite child wisdom, came to understand some of the nature of Alfie besides his sweetness. That he was just as she had suspected, a pirate and a king. He terrified others, kept the men in the bakery in reverence of him.

She came to understand her mother as well. A woman with muted glamor, someone with quiet dreams that slowly seemed to materialize. She was not the princesses or damsels in the films or books Daisy consumed. No, she was something of a beautiful warrior.

Daisy thought of herself as an adventurer. No one feared a child of her age, and she had no one who needed her protection quite yet. Instead, she was a wily spirit, content with exploration during the day and a cozy home with her mother, and quite often Alfie, at night.

It came as no surprise at the age of nine when Alfie sat her down and explained he had asked her mother to marry him. Truly, it felt like a long put off event, and Daisy had just wanted it over and done with.

Alfie's laugh filled the sitting room when she told him.

"It's not always that simple, Daisy Bell," he said. "But I'm pleased, your mum expected you to take the news hard. Not sure why, but you are full of surprises, yeah?"

And so, on one afternoon that had gifted pockets of sun, Daisy watched as Alfie made her mother his pirate queen. Daisy, in turn, became a pirate as well. And with her new place as the daughter of a pirate and a king came new lodgings.

Not a ship, but a house with many rooms. A place for her toys and baubles, and a new wardrobe to hang the pretty things her mother liked to dress her in. Daisy quite liked to sneak into Alfie's study, staring at the little collections that lined shelves. On the occasions she snuck in while he sat at his desk, he'd call her over with a wave of his big hand. A sweet would appear, followed by a kiss to the head.

"Don't tell your mum," he'd whisper in gruff tones, "or she'll 'ave both of our heads for spoiling your dinner."

It was those moments she liked best, when the two of them would hold a small secret. Daisy knew Alfie and her mother had their own secrets, whispered under their breaths as if Daisy would pay it no mind. Talk of bread, of a man named Shelby. Nothing that ever reached her in her fortress.

And in that fortress protected by men led by Alfie, who as Daisy neared eleven, seemed more pirate than king, she thrived. Played with the other children, took pockets of Yiddish they taught her home to practice with her mother. Spent hours feeding treats to Cyril behind her parents’ backs. Tormented Alfie's men with silly games and questions they usually had no answer to. Ollie was her favorite. He had taught her to play cribbage in the moments where his time wasn't completely occupied with Alfie's commands.

There were long stretches where Alfie did not return home, only giving a phone call to calm Nora's nerves. Her mother would get whispered conversations; Daisy was given sweet words and a gentle good night or morning. Daisy contented herself with this, until one day Alfie did not return.

************

"He's gone to Margate," Nora explained, rubbing at her tired eyes. They seemed to grow more tired with each passing year. "I haven't heard from him yet, Daisy. Perhaps tomorrow we'll get a ring."

The call did not come. Daisy thought of terrible fates that befell kings and pirates. How easily it could happen to a man whose business kept him in hushed conversations. How her pa, dear Alfie, could be struck down in crossfire with the polished guns he kept locked in his study.

When a letter came, and with it a terrible wail from the beautiful mouth of her mother, Daisy knew she was right. Wished it not to be so; that there had been a terrible mistake and the news written was wrong. But sneaking a look at the letter when her mother had finally let it out of her grasp, Daisy found her worst thoughts had not been bad enough.

Alfie's wonderful handwriting lay before her. Asking forgiveness of Nora, then of her. A betrayal to the Shelby man detailed Alfie's demise. A desire to end a painful, cancerous existence that he had never spoke of to Daisy.

Another letter detailed his condition. Alive, but for how long would be up to him. Where he could be found in the winding streets of Margate.

With no noise, she returned the letter to it's envelope. Daisy took care to walk quietly, letting herself hang at the entry of her mother's room. For the first time in many years, she crawled beside her in the vast bed, letting a desperate hug melt into her skin.

On the eve of her twelfth birthday, the house with many rooms lay barren. Everything had been packed and sent to Margate, which Nora explained would become their new home. Daisy had seen her mother hold back tears as they locked the doors for a final time. Her house and her garden that had materialized out of her dreams since Daisy was very small was no more.

Camden Town had too much risk lying to the north to bring Alfie back even in secret. He was no longer a king, but a ghost of one. They were to follow the ghost, live in a haunted home by the sea.

In that haunted home, Daisy helped place Alfie's collections and her baubles on shelves. She ignored the moans from the guest room, which had become a makeshift hospital ward. Instead she practiced her piano and read on the balcony to avoid the noise. Wished that Cyril, wherever he had gone off to, was by her side to help her ward off the ghost that lived here.

Alfie haunted her, night and day. He haunted her mother more, once he became more coherent and spoke his rambling nonsense to her. More than once she had heard Nora's voice raised behind the oak door, and no reply from Alfie. Her mother was not an angry woman, but Margate in those early months had sparked like a flint and filled Nora’s glamorous face with a rage-fueled fire.

As time passed, Daisy returned to her schooling. New friends were found, and so was a sense of normal. Her mother’s anger had become smoldering coals, and she started to leave the house. Sometimes for pleasure, other times for business still left from Camden Town. Daisy wondered often if Alfie, who remained behind the closed door, envied their comings and goings. She wondered more if he missed her, months separating the moment she had seen him in a gauze mask till now.

***********

On an unremarkable Sunday afternoon, her mother had gone out for some air. Daisy had been left to her own devices, plunking out a song on the piano in the sitting room. A voice, one she hadn't heard in more than a gruff whisper in weeks, sang out:

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do!”

He was awake. Calling to her, it seemed, with a silly song he'd sing to tease since she was small.

"I'm 'alf crazy, all the love for you!”

Daisy rose from the piano bench, wood upon wood scraping quietly before feet plodded to the guest room she avoided. Now, though, the call from within was irresistible.

The door groaned silent as she peeked in, black curls slipping around her shoulders. There in bed lay the man she called father. A man in a pitiful state, but lucid.

"Daisy Bell, sweetie." he managed to crack a smile. "I'll cover up this nasty face of mine if you like, yeah, I just need to see that cherub one of yours."

She stepped in, trod closer.

"It's all right," Daisy remitted. "Will it always look like that?"

Alfie took consideration. "It won't always be as red, yeah, but it'll still look like a gnarled fucking tree. Maybe it'll smooth one day, but it's stuck, love."

"Then don't cover it," she said quietly. "If it's forever, I need to get used to it."

"Wise words from the mouth of babes."

"I'm nearly thirteen." A slight bristle shook through her voice, reminding herself of her mother. "I'm no baby."

"Is that right?" Alfie shut his eyes, heaving a grumbly sigh. A few beats passed, and he opened his good eye. Deep blue, like the ocean at night. Daisy sometimes sat on the balcony of their townhome and watched the waves roll in and out. Alfie's eye held no waves, just stillness.

"Well, if you're such a grown woman now, with wisdom and maturity beyond all our years, right, you'll fetch your dad a thimble of whatever Mum's got in that fancy bar cart she had to have, yeah? A secret between us grown ones, so I can partake of the earthly pleasures again."

Daisy's face hardened. "Mum says you can't."

"A biscuit then. With a strong cuppa." Noting her doubtful looks, he gestured to his face. "The tea to soften the biscuit so this old man can chew softly."

Daisy gave him a doubtful look, but obliged. Wondered how many times he'd asked for small tokens from the nurse or her mother and was promptly shut down. She returned, biscuits and tea in hand.

"You have my undying gratitude, Daisy Bell," he said.

He seemed quite happy, but Daisy couldn't tell if the biscuits or her presence was more the cause. As he dipped a corner of the biscuit into his tea, she thought how silly it was for a ghost to enjoy afternoon tea. She couldn't help an amused smile.

"What's that you're giggling about?" Alfie asked. His own mouth drew into a devilish grin. "You do something funny to these biscuits, ey?"

"No," Daisy replied, smiling wider. "It's a silly thought is all."

"I haven't heard silly thoughts in some time, just a nurse droning on and on about health and tablets. Indulge me."

For the first time in many months, Daisy felt heard again. Hands grabbed the wooden chair next to the wardrobe, scooting close to Alfie. She even let her forearms rest on the side of his bed, close enough to feel warmth not usually becoming of a ghost.

"Well you see," she started, "when we met when I was very little, I saw your rings and tattoo and thought of the men in the books my Gran would read to me. All while we lived in London, I thought of you as a pirate king."

"Is that so?" he chuckled, taking a sip. "Reckon you were a pirate princess then, weren't you?"

"Something like that." Daisy grinned before looking away at the wall. "After Mum got the letter and we couldn't bring you home… Well, I felt like you were a ghost. Like I've been living with a ghost this whole time in Margate."

Alfie didn't respond. Daisy had known he wouldn't; the wound on the soul was still as raw as the scar on his eye.

"But just now, seeing you eat,” she continued, “I found it quite funny to see a ghost eat a biscuit and enjoy a cuppa. All ghosts should be that funny, I think."

"Do you?" Alfie heaved a great sigh, then chuckled. "Better to be a ghost with a sense of humor and an appetite for sweets than a man who's lost both, yeah?”

Daisy nodded. The more she let what he had said rattle about in her mind, the more she came to understand the thankful truth of it. Though she mourned her pirate king, Cyril, and the house with many rooms, Margate and its ghost with his biscuit and tea had their own comfort.

She once again was a child who had a father with a terrible fate that had befallen him. A dozen excuses could be made for his absence but Daisy knew this time, at least, that in secret he still existed. The little secrets they shared had grown to one of great magnitude, like ones of novels and myths.

“I’ve missed you.”

Alfie, who had finished one of his biscuits, eyed her up with that twinkle she loved so dearly in the still dark blue iris. The cup clinked against the saucer as he set it on his lap covered by a blanket. Daisy felt the familiar roughness of his hand as it grasped hers.

“So have I, Daisy.” He gave her hand a squeeze, the feeling less ghostly than she had imagined. “Someday, I promise you, I’ll be out of this terrible fuckin’ bed and you and I can do whatever pleases your sweet heart.”

“That could be a very long time,” Daisy answered. “Is it okay for me to come back in? Will Mum be upset?”

Alfie took a pause.

“I don’t think so,” he decided. “And if she does get upset, it won’t last. The rotation of faces will do me good, yeah? That nurse sometimes makes me feel more ill by her presence alone, she’s got a particularly sour smell to match her face. The sooner I’m out of this room, the better I’ll be, I think. The sea air’ll do me some good, don’t you think?”

Daisy nodded again, vigorously. If Alfie thought the sea and the wisping salt against his face would help him be less a ghost and more a man, she would believe it too.

“We can go walking together,” Daisy suggested. “In the afternoons when I come home from school. And all day on weekends. Mum said she’d buy me a swimming costume for the summer, maybe we could swim—”

Alfie interrupted with his distinctive laugh, a near giggle unexpected from such a large man. The first time Daisy had heard it she had been taken aback, only to laugh along. Hearing it now was like a balm slathered on a skinned knee.

“We’ll start with a short walk, sweetie, then think about swimming in the next distant summer when these limbs can carry this old man easier. If I try to swim now, right, I might be swept away into the sea and some fantastical creature may happen upon me and drag me to its home in the depths. You believe in mermaids, love?”

“No.” Daisy sat back in the chair. “Not anymore.”

“Pity,” Alfie answered. “I saw one once at a carnival; pretty thing with a tail blowing bubbles under the water. If anything were to drag me out to sea, I’d choose her.”

“Stay on land, then!”

Alfie looked at her, quieted by her outburst. Daisy hadn’t meant for the words to leave her mouth so loudly. But all the talk of leaving once more sent her deep into a place of fear.

“I don’t want you to leave again,” Daisy tried once more in a softer voice. “I don’t want you to even try.”

“Then I won’t,” Alfie replied simply. “I’ll ignore all those siren calls I hear from the beach and stay right here, on your orders. You’re the boss, then.”

“Mum said she’s the boss now.” She shifted in her seat, wondered how cold the tea sitting on Alfie’s lap had gone. “Her and Ollie, she says.”

“Right then, you’ll just have to be my boss, won’t you?” Alfie shut his eyes. Daisy inspected his face, riddled with red scars and the patches of scaly rashes around his scalp he had explained as an affliction called psoriasis when she questioned it. He opened his good eye, giving her a quick smile. “Keep me in line and give me my orders to follow. First order is no following mermaids, got that love, what else should I heed from you?”

Daisy had never had that kind of power before, giving orders to an adult. The men at the bakery heeded her silly requests before, yes, but Alfie had always been the one to bark orders. As a child on the cusp of thirteen, it was an immense responsibility. She racked her brain, lips pursed as she ignored Alfie’s amused face, before settling on one.

“Get well fast,” Daisy finally said. “And don’t make Mum cross again, I’ll know if you do.”

“A tall order, that last one, but I’ll do my best,” Alfie grunted, tapping her hand before saluting her. “Yes ma’am.”

#alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons #peaky blinder fanfic #i love soft alfie fics ok bye

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jetaime-jespere · 3 years

Text

Inopportune

An early Sunday morning conversation with @sweetsecretskeptinside about what could have happened pre and post Milwaukee inspired this little thing. It was meant to be a lot shorter, but you all know brevity isn’t my strength. This is rated M for smut!

As they say, timing is everything.

When Aaron slams the front door shut, he knows his marriage is over. Maybe not officially, but it’s the beginning of the very end.

He purposefully ignored Haley’s final ultimatum, once again choosing this job over his family. And it’s not even the hurt on her face that lingers in his mind as he throws his bag into the front seat, but the fact that he didn’t even hesitate to make the choice he did. The disintegration of their marriage has built over time, an almost natural erosion of the intimacy they’d shared in the early days. What used to be Haley’s proud acknowledgement of the challenges of his job has turned into shades of resentment. It’s a constant ebb and flow of disappointment and hurt, coupled with the challenge of being rendered a single parent not in name, but in practice. Not to mention, the cold slap in the face of her all but confirmed infidelity. That had been the final straw. The worst part is, it isn’t his marriage that he grieves anymore. Grief is reserved for his son, the one whose life will soon change drastically when the inevitable happens and the papers are signed.

Aaron can pinpoint exactly when things finally spiraled past his control, much to his chagrin. The arrival of a certain dark haired agent less than a year ago, with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. They’d met before, in another lifetime, when she was barely an adult, privileged and proud, while he struggled to be one at all, barely making ends meet but worlds happier than he is now. The turning of the tables nearly makes his head spin.

And even though Aaron knows better, he’s driving to Emily’s apartment with his foot on the gas just a little heavier than usual. It’s technically against protocol to get her address from her personnel file, but he doesn’t have to, because what he’d never tell anyone is that he’s taken her home once before. Once, early on, when she needed a ride thanks to a flat tire. Twice, if he counts the time he drove them all home from the bar after New Orleans a few months ago. He’d purposefully saved her for last, and she’d fallen asleep in the front seat after dropping a very tipsy Penelope off. Emily had blushed with embarrassment when he woke her up, her eyes glassy and ringed with exhaustion, insisting that no, she hadn’t fallen asleep, and of course not, when he suggested walking her up to her door. I can walk by myself, she’d said, stumbling on her own two feet towards her building.

There’s another secret he’d never tell a soul. He kissed her once. To be fair, she kissed him back. It had been a mistake, they’re both abundantly aware of that. But San Francisco had been hell, particularly for her - arson is never easy - and he had a front row seat to her more human side that had stayed so carefully hidden since she’d joined the team.

Aaron offered her a drink in his office upon their return, against his better judgement, when he found her in the doorway with her reports in her hands. He doesn’t tell her they’re a few days late. He’ll cut her some slack on this one. She quickly refused the drink, a nervous shake of her head, muttering something about getting home as she passed over the paperwork. “Have a good night, Sir.” The discomfort in her voice is evident, still unsure of how to read him.

“You did well in San Francisco.” It might be one of the first times he’s complimented her work, at least privately. “This wasn’t an easy case, you know.” His voice echoes through his empty office, and he can’t help but wonder how many more of these lonely nights he’ll have, just himself and a wayward custodian for company.

“None of them are,” Emily says somewhat dismissively with a wave of her hand and a nervous laugh. “But thank you.” She looks tired and drained. “I … appreciate that.”

“I was wrong, you know.” It’s about time he told her the truth. She’s more than proved herself at this point. “You are an asset to this team, Emily. Please know that.”

To his surprise, she doesn’t even crack a grin, just stares at him in surprise, waiting for him to say something else.

“And I’m sorry for not acknowledging that until now.”

She nods slowly, her eyes narrowing just enough to tell him she still doesn’t fully trust him. He can’t explain why it bothers him, or the fact he’ll think about it for hours afterward.

“I’ll walk you out.” He doesn’t have to walk her out at all, they both know this, but he does, just a few inches too close to her than he should. It’s the subtle attraction to her he feels that possesses him to do it, and before he can stop himself, right before she steps into the elevator, he wraps a hand around the back of her head and kisses her, quick and chaste, on the lips.

What he didn’t expect was for Emily to reciprocate, a hand slipping around the nape of his neck. Her lips collided against his, deepening the kiss for a moment that felt frozen in time, yet all too brief. And before he can think it through, she’s pulling away, her eyes on the ground as the elevator doors open, then close, with a metronomic chime.

He stares at the closed doors for a full five minutes after she’s gone.

...

They both knew it could never happen again, and it wasn’t spoken of after that. Sometimes, Aaron has to remind himself that it actually did happen, and the fact that he even thinks of it often is another issue entirely.

And all of that aside, Emily Prentiss had surprised him. He’d all but fought against her appointment to the BAU and reluctantly agreed to give her the chance she deserved, and certainly didn’t make it easy for her in the early days and weeks. It’s a twist of irony that Haley was the one who suggested he give her a chance, for the stress of being down an agent had already taken its toll on the team but mostly him. And now, he can’t imagine the BAU without her.

Aaron knew Strauss would have it in for their team after Atlanta, Manhattan, and most recently, Flagstaff. Mistakes had been made, that he wouldn’t deny. But what he didn’t see coming was that Strauss would have gone after Emily, too. Foreign Service Exam my ass, he’d thought when she came to him with the news. He swallows angrily, yet feels an undeniable surge of pride, for she’d beat Erin at her own game by resigning. Another surprise, Aaron thinks as he makes the final turn onto her street. What he’s about to do is a gamble at best and downright stupid at worst, but it doesn’t stop him from taking the five hundred steps through her building, up the stairs, until he’s standing outside her door, his knuckles tapping against the smooth metal.

Emily clearly wasn’t expecting to see him standing there. The shock on her face is evident when she opens the door, her displeasure of him being there, in her home, even more so.

“Can I come in?”

Emily says nothing but lets him through, eyeing him warily as she closes the door behind him. It’s the first time they’ve ever been alone together, besides the kiss he’s spent months trying to forget. He wonders if she remembers it too. The silence is deafening as he takes a quick look around her apartment. The view of the Capitol is impressive, he notes with interest, before turning back to face her.

“The team needs us. They’re working a case in Milwaukee.” Best to keep it simple, he thinks. The fewer questions she asks, the better. “Gideon hasn’t shown up, and don’t tell me you quit or I put in for a transfer.”

“You put in for a transfer?” She asks with disbelief, still tense.

“They’re both still hung up in the system, so technically we’re both in dereliction of duty by not being there.” He keeps his tone even, reminds himself to keep his eyes on hers instead of letting them trail over her body.

“I’m sorry,” she says pointedly. “I can’t go.”

As he expected. “Right. Sorry I barged in.”

“Wait.” Her voice pierces the air, questioning his ulterior motives. “Can I ask - why are you really here?”

There’s the long answer and the short; he knows she’ll soon figure out both, and for a moment, grapples with his words. “I think Strauss came to you and asked for dirt on me.”

Emily stiffens, her teeth biting into her lip as her foot taps against the floor nervously at the accuracy of his statement. There it is, he thinks. He guessed correctly.

“Why would she do that?”

Aaron patiently explains his theory - the culmination of the drama with Gideon and Reid, Strauss’s desire for top leadership at the bureau, and her face twists into a frown when he reaches the final blow. “I think she put you on our team, and expected something in return.

Her reticence tells him everything he needs to know. “And to your credit, you quit. Rather than whisper in her ear.”

“I told you, I hate politics,” she shoots back, her tone full of contempt.

Aaron remembers that conversation well. It was months ago, back when he was all but annoyed by her presence, unable to admit her talent at profiling and maybe that she did belong on their team, as she insisted from day one. He’d been more than dismissive of her, and yet she’d proved herself time and time again. He’d messed up, and now it’s come to a head.

“Come to Milwaukee,” he presses her, his eyes never leaving hers. The way she bites her lip tells him she’s at least considering his request. Her head tips to the side, revealing her neck, and he swallows because his throat suddenly goes dry. “I’ll make you a deal. If your bag isn’t here, packed, I won’t bug you anymore. If it is, I want you on that plane with me. One more case.”

“I already turned in my badge and gun.” She tries to push him off but he sees right through her, unwilling to leave without her.

“That’s just hardware.”

Emily eyes him suspiciously, knowing he’s won, and she silently curses him in her mind because her bag is indeed packed, on the floor in her bedroom just a few feet away. But then something else catches her eye - something she can’t miss.

“Where’s your wedding ring, Aaron?” She asks coolly, taking full notice of his bare left hand.

The use of his first name could be considered insubordination. But, technically, she doesn’t work for him anymore, having given her resignation to Strauss, and the first thing that comes to mind is how much he likes the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

Not the time, he tells himself.

“Is that why you’re taking on this case?” Emily isn’t stupid - she’s seen the signs that things at home weren’t exactly great for him. His distraction around the team, the indifference when a well-intended question about Haley or Jack was all but brushed over. It’s been like that for weeks, and she’s too astute to not have noticed.

“My marriage is over,” he confirms, the confession ringing in the air.

Emily’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open ever so slightly, at a loss for words. She says nothing, just stares at him for a few long moments, blinking in disbelief.

“It’s been over for a long time,” he adds. “But today … I left. There’s a lot to figure out but it’s done. It’s been done.”

“And you came here?” The expression on her face is one he can’t identify but isn’t sure he wants to. There’s anger and confusion, but also intrigue, as if she learned a secret she shouldn’t ever know in the first place. “Why?”

“You belong in Milwaukee. We both do.” Maybe so, but that’s not the only reason he came here today, despite what he tells himself. He knows it, and so does she.

Emily looks indignant. “But that isn't the only reason.” She’s challenging him, calling him out on what he’s denied since that night in her office, maybe even before that. “Don’t lie to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Aaron swallows nervously, doing his damn best to hide the fact that all he wants to do is exactly what he shouldn’t.

She steps towards him defiantly, deliberately invading his personal space. “I think you know.” There are a million reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this, but it’s inevitable.

He takes a step closer, the distance between them all but closed, drawing a ragged breath that matches hers. When their lips meet for the second time he knows there’s no chance of him being able to stop things, and what comes next happens before either of them have a chance to think better of it. Aaron’s hands slide into her hair as he kisses her, pulling gently to expose her neck, and he gives her a moment to breathe as he sucks a bruise right beneath her jaw. Emily’s hands push at his shoulders, an attempt to rid him of his suit jacket, and it falls to the ground in a heap at their feet. But the sudden absence of the confines of the material gives him the leverage he needs to wrap her in his arms, and he does, anchoring her against his chest as he takes her mouth again with his own. It’s dizzying, the scent of her intoxicating as he kisses her, his tongue pushing past her lips, delving into her mouth.

Except Emily isn’t passive in her response to him, her teeth clashing against his as he explores her mouth with his own. She digs her fingers into his arms, bites at his bottom lip, sweeps her tongue across his teeth, then shifts to press her mouth to his neck as his hands drift down to the hem of her blouse. Aaron pulls away, running his thumb over her lips, cupping her chin in one hand as he looks her over.

He wants to tell her she’s beautiful but he can’t form the right words, just holds her chin in one hand, pushing her hair from her face as he slips a knee between her legs, applying pressure that causes her eyes to roll back just enough that he keeps it there. The moan that escapes and the buckle of her knees are the impetus he needs to lift her up onto the counter, a pile of mail and loose papers falling to the floor along the way.

Aaron gets his hands to the openings of her blouse, pulling too hard as the fabric tears open, falling around her shoulders. It reveals a practical beige lace bra, something he’s almost surprised to see - he had her pegged as someone who only wore red. But he deftly unhooks the back clasp, letting it fall from her shoulders, and her skin flushes scarlet as she’s bared to him. As he already anticipated, she’s as beautiful, if not more so, than he imagined. He’s done that a few times over the last few months. He palms her ribs with gentle hands, much more gentle than his mouth had been just moments before, fingers dipping between the delicate bones and over soft skin. Emily mewls in his ear, her head tipped to the side as he explores her. His fingers smooth over her breasts, paying equal attention to each as he starts to kiss her again, then bends to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. Her hands grip the sides of his head, holding him in place as his teeth scrape and his tongue soothes, a rhythmic pattern of pressure that starts to blur her vision. Aaron’s hands span across the width of her back, his fingers stroking the delicate curve of her spine as Emily arches into his mouth, pressing herself against him.

“Aaron,” she moans, her heart fluttering against his chin, and it sounds like she’s forgotten to breathe this whole time. And when he fully stands, taking her face in his hands again, his eyes darken with lust as he kisses her, lush and full, one more time.

“Back,” he says, pushing her flat until she’s laying on the counter, hair spilling over the edge, her legs hooked over his arms. She perches on her elbows, watching him intensely with hooded eyes as he unbuttons her jeans with a deliberate slowness. His hands are steady as he drags them down over her hips and past her knees. The muscles in her stomach flutter as Aaron repositions her legs on his shoulders, carefully spreading her open to him. Emily’s back arches up even though he hasn’t even touched her as he presses kisses to the insides of her knees.

“Aaron,” she pleads again, needier this time, her eyes dark and her legs trembling on his shoulders, and when he finally touches his tongue to her clit, she doesn’t even try to muffle the sound that comes from the very back of her throat. He does it again and her hips fly up, her fingers sliding through his dark hair, then gripping his head in place. “Fuck,” Emily chokes when his tongue pushes inside of her this time, her hand dragging down her face as he continues to stroke her with his tongue languidly until her moans become constant, a beg for more. Not that she had any doubt, but he’s somehow better at this than she ever imagined.

“You should see yourself like this,” Aaron says darkly, his lips on her knee as he gives her a moment to breathe, still spread out on her counter. “You are beautiful,” he tells her and he means it, pushing her leg higher as his head ducks back between her legs, this time he sucks her clit between his lips and pushes two fingers inside of her, curling up to press against the spot his tongue had found just moments before. Emily comes almost instantly and loudly, nearly sliding right off the counter as she writhes beneath him. Aaron pulls her up to his chest, wrapping an arm around her back as she shudders against him, her skin glazed over with sweat. Emily kisses him, her hands scraping down his back as she tastes herself on his tongue, smiling into his mouth as he groans. Her arms wind around his neck, his fingers dip in the curve of her spine, a soothing comedown coupled with his voice in her ear.

Aaron is still almost fully dressed, and Emily wastes no time with the buttons of his dress shirt, almost forceful in her attempts to divest him of his clothes. “Careful,” he breathes, his hands closing around her wrists. “I only have one shirt.” He helps her get it off the rest of the way, followed by his pants and belt, and he hisses when her hand wraps around the length of him. Her own eyes widen ever so slightly, and the kiss that he presses to her forehead is reassuring as he surveys her kitchen and living room. He doesn’t want to fuck her on a counter, at least not now. “Not here,” he decides, and with more finesse than he anticipated, carefully gets her legs around his waist and lifts her up. “Bedroom?”

A jerk of her head in the general direction guides him to her room, and with her body wrapped around his, he carries her there, carefully depositing her onto her bed before he settles over her.

“Yes?” Aaron rasps, his forehead pressed against hers as her chest rises and falls in a series of breathy pants, her fingers smoothing over his cheek. Emily nods, giving him the permission he asks for, her legs closing around his hips as hovers above, lining himself up against her. The initial press of him inside, coupled with how sensitive she already is, emits a slight whimper from Emily, her eyes fluttering as she adjusts to the stretch of her body around his. It’s a few moments of complete stillness, careful kisses and gentle touches, his body spread over hers. It takes most of his effort to remain still, giving her those few moments.

“God,” Emily breathes a few long seconds later, when he’s fully seated, her eyes locked on his. At her insistence he moves, a series of tentative thrusts that only leave her needing more, her legs tightening around his back to keep him as close as possible. He begins to thrust faster, every drive of his hips pushing her higher and him too.

“You feel amazing, Emily,” he encourages as her hips meet his thrusts, a rhythm that comes almost easily to them both. “So fucking good.” His movements become erratic as he nears the end, but he’s determined for her to go first. “Come for me,” he murmurs into her ear, lifting her legs over his shoulders in one smooth motion. The change of angle nearly sucks the air right out of her lungs. “Come on,” he coaxes one more time with a firm push of his hips. “One more time.”

Emily gasps then curses faintly when she finally clenches around him, Aaron sealing his mouth over hers to stifle the scream that would most definitely be heard by anyone in the apartment next to hers. The sensation of her fluttering around him, moaning his name, her nails scraping down his back are enough for him to follow suit, and he kisses her once more before tipping over the edge too, spilling into her with a groan.

Aaron buries his face in her chest, Emily’s hands hold his head in place, for another few peaceful moments, ones that will soon vanish.

…

When it’s over, Aaron can’t help but feel inordinately guilty. He isn’t exactly sure why, but the voice in the back of his mind tells him he fucked this up, royally. Not because of what might wait for him beyond the confines of her apartment, but because now she’s a part of the mess he’s in, whether she likes it or not. Just add it to the list.

This shouldn’t have happened, he thinks as they search through the pile of clothes on the floor - some his, some hers - and it’s an awkward, side-stepping dance around one another, the first of many.

“You ruined my shirt, you know.” Emily holds up the torn halves of her red blouse, covering herself with her other free hand. Her skin is still flushed, her hair askew, and he wants to tell her she has other things to worry about right now than a torn shirt. Like the rapidly forming bruise on her neck, thanks to his teeth, or the scrapes that undoubtedly mar the smooth skin of her back, because he’d gone a little too far. It’ll be hard to explain that bruise (and any others that might appear) once they get to Milwaukee.

“You mean to tell me you don’t have another one?” Aaron quips, busying himself with fixing his suit jacket, fastening his belt, taking note of his own appearance in the mirror. There’s a small bite mark on his neck that’s easily hidden by his collar, and a few on his shoulders. She’d given as good as she got, clearly.

Yet no one will suspect a thing. As it should be.

Emily scoffs, rolling her eyes as she disappears into her room, grumbling about it being an expensive shirt, but he barely hears her. Instead, the events of the last half hour replay on loop in his mind, one he won’t forget for quite some time. The tension between them hangs in the air even after the bathroom door closes, the sound of the shower permeating his thoughts.

This all just got a hell of a lot more complicated, and it’s just the beginning.

“Don’t we have a plane to catch?” Emily impatiently taps her foot against the floor a half an hour later, dressed in different clothes - a pink shirt and a different pair of jeans. The marks on her neck are covered, he notices. Somehow he still manages to stare at her, despite his best intentions not to. “Or are you just going to sit there thinking about how you just fucked me for the next thirty minutes?”

By the time Aaron has processed what she just said, she’s already halfway out the door of her apartment, and all he can do is follow her to the car.

…

As he expected, Milwaukee is a mess. Strauss’s presence doesn’t make anything easier, and he certainly wasn’t expecting Emily to take matters into her own hands and almost get herself killed at the hands of Joe Smith. But it’s what happens, and less than twenty-four hours after showing up in her apartment, he watches from a safe distance as a paramedic cleans and dresses the wound on her forehead.

“How’s your head?”

“I’ll live,” Emily says with a wince. It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s lying right through her teeth, because she’s clearly in pain, not that she’d ever admit it. “But is it weird I’m glad to be back?”

“I’ll make sure it stays official.” It’s all he can say with the rest of the team hovering close by. He makes a mental note to order her to get medical clearance before she returns to the field as he moves closer to Strauss. She’s clearly ready with a few choice words of her own, having watched them all like hawks as Joe Smith was led away in handcuffs, his son in the back of a police car. There isn’t much to convince themselves this was a win. It’s anything but that - women murdered, a child’s life forever changed. Not at all a win. In fact, it feels like a loss.

As if today couldn’t get any more complicated.

…

Aaron drives her back to her apartment, because once they get back to Quantico, Emily realizes she has no other way of getting home. She’s taking out her phone to call a cab when he’s at her side, a gentle hand pressed to the small of her back with an offer to drive.

It makes her flinch and yet she’s too tired to turn him down; the thought of riding in the backseat of a bumpy cab down 95 makes her stomach churn. So she agrees reluctantly, and sits as far away from him as she can in the passenger seat of his sedan. And history repeats itself once again when she firmly refuses his offer to help her get settled.

Not a chance, she thinks, her mind flashing back to the events of the day before. She’s smart enough to know it’s only a matter of time before it happens again.

...

Emily showers and changes into sweatpants, being careful to avoid irritating the wound on her forehead. It still hurts; she knows it will for a few days, and that doesn’t begin to cover the headache that throbs through her temples. Only when she’s taking another dose of Advil does she hear the knock at the door.

A glance through the peephole makes her blood pressure rise. “What are you doing here?” She sighs tiredly. “You came all the way back to check on me? I told you, I’m fine. I have a headache. I will live.”

“I never left.” Aaron says honestly and simply, shifting from foot to foot outside her door. He feels exposed, scrutinized under her gaze.

“You’ve seriously been waiting outside my door all this time? You don’t think that’s a little … invasive?” She sounds annoyed and rightfully so. He has no right to be there in the first place. Just because they fucked once and kissed twice doesn’t give him those privileges.

His jaw flexes, a hand runs through his hair. “I sat in the car for a little while.” Admitting it sounds a lot worse than he anticipated. In fact, she looks downright annoyed at his revelation. “Can I come in? Please?”

And for the second time she relents with a heavy sigh, letting him past. “Fine. What the hell is going on?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He stands a little closer than he did before, reaching out with an unsteady hand to touch the gauze pad on her forehead. “I was worried … I am worried.”

“I’ve had concussions before,” she tells him curtly. “This is no different.”

“Then you should know you shouldn’t be alone.”

Emily laughs bitterly, now fully aware of his intentions. “And you think you’re going to stay here? Keep me company?” She waits, her hands on her hips with a shake of her head. “Or are you here because you can’t go back home?”

Aaron opens his mouth to speak, attempting to smooth things over because clearly something has changed since Milwaukee, but she cuts him off again.

“No. I can’t do this. I’m not your rebound until you figure things out.” Her eyes flash with anger, maybe even a touch of regret, which only makes him feel worse about it all. Maybe it should never have happened in the first place.

“There’s nothing to figure out,” he attempts weakly. “That’s not what I -”

“You need to figure things out with your wife, Aaron. What happened between us was a mistake. One we’re equally responsible for. But it cannot happen again.” She folds her arms over her chest, already going for the door to throw him out.

“Emily - “

“Go home, Hotch. I’ll see you tomorrow.” While she wears a brave face, there’s no hiding the disappointment in her eyes, the subtle hurt she undoubtedly feels at knowing all of this was never supposed to happen. Only then does it come to him that maybe, just maybe, she wanted it just as much as he did, and knows it can never be. “And don’t worry. The secret is safe with me.”

He’s about to object - to tell her what he should have already said - when the door slams in his face.

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x prentiss #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #they're not hopelessly in love here #but it's smutty-ish #season 3 #because you know something happened before milwaukee #mile high club or this #criminal minds fanfiction

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avengershumanresources · 3 years

Text

blood 6 - Strange/Stark!Reader

Relationship: Dr. Strange/Princess!Stark!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Adult Themes, eventual smut, adult language, implied sexual violence, general violence

Synopsis: Reader is the daughter of the legendary King Anthony Stark, Uniter of Lands, The Iron Defender, and leader of the realm. When the king disappears during battle, hope is lost and he is presumed dead.

When the late king’s uncle, Obadiah, takes the throne until your brother Peter is of age, he quickly arranges a marriage for you with a wicked king in a neighboring kingdom.

With the realms politics in question, and rumors of an upcoming siege to overthrow Peter’s rule before it starts, you quickly learn who is loyal to the crown and who is not.

part 5 - part 7

Masterlist

Chapter Playlist

6 - a promise

Violet was uncharacteristically tight lipped as she dressed you the next morning. Part of you worried that the nosy maid had seen you on the balcony the night before, but you quickly remembered she’d gone to bed early after drinking too much.

She kept sending pitying glances in your direction, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why. Smoothing out your skirts, she grabbed the knife you’d hidden under your pillow and tied it securely at your side.

“For good luck?” she joked, though that pitying look crossed her feature as soon as the words left her mouth.

You’d been struck dumb, expression bewildered as to how she knew about the dagger.

“James,” she replied simply, patting the weapon for safe keeping.

The implication was both comforting and terrifying.

How much influence did her two friends truly possess within the castle walls?

Accompanying you to breakfast, Violet stopped you outside of the dining hall, hand tightening around your forearm.

“Please keep your head,” she whispered, glancing nervously around them. “No matter what you find on the other side of this door.”

It was an ominous warning, but you kept it in mind while she pushed open the door,’leading you inside.

For a moment, you were certain your heart had stopped working from pure horror alone.

King Brock Rumlow sat by your uncles side, laughing as a plate of meat and eggs was placed in front of him.

“My dear, it’s so wonderful you could join us,” Obadiah stood and motioned for you to sit across from Brock at the table. “Did you sleep well? I imagine you might have stayed up bubbling with excitement.”

“Uncle,” you greeted tensely, feeling Violet’s form freeze at the casual exchange. Keep your mind. You needed to stay calm.

Calm, even though your father’s murderer was smirking at you, only meters out of your grasp.

“Princess, I’m sure you’re familiar with King Brock Rumlow,” he motioned to the king who stood and bowed his head.

“Your highness,” he reached for your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, lingering a moment too long for your comfort. “I’m sure this has been such a confusing and terrible time.”

You bit your tongue, swallowing down any backlash that stirred.

“Rest assured, King Brock has a very reasonable explanation for everything,” Obadiah invited the group to eat. You took your seat, trying to ignore the way Rumlow’s eyes devoured you. Like a lamb to slaughter, he looked positively ravenously at you.

“Your highness, it’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” he explained with a long sigh. “The Asgardians had been ordered to attack the border villages and I sent my men to help. There was skirmish and your father was murdered by that brutish Thor Odinson. They threw his body into the river before retreating. There was nothing we could do.”

Liar.

“You see? He was trying to defend the king,” Obadiah tilted his water goblet in your direction. “And to think, those barbaric Asgardians had the audacity to stand and mourn with you.”

Liar.

“I’m...” you never had been a very convincing actress (Peter had always told you so), but the performance you put on that morning would have rivaled the great Bard himself. “That is certainly distressing news.”

Obadiah eyed you, the reaction catching him by surprise.

“Brock has come to formally apologize for the confusion,” Obadiah started, watching you carefully for the slightest slip up. “He’s asked me for your hand as a means of reconciliation between the kingdoms.”

Your stomach dropped out, your lungs stopped moving, and you were certain both bellmen could hear your heart hammering anxiously against your chest.

Marriage... to that monster. The man you knew slayed your father. The man whose rumors of his late wife followed behind whispers of death and deceit.

Obadiah wanted to marry you off to him, for something. He had to have gotten something.

Your father out of the way, your brain supplied helpfully.

“With King Brock’s help, and the Kree army to the north, we will finally be able to stop those damned Wakandans and Asgardians from breaching our trade routes.”

Fingers tensing around your dining knife, you forced a smile on your face.

“Really?” you asked, throwing as much enthusiasm as you could stomach in the question. “Me? Married to a king?”

Obadiah paused, furrowing his brows, but Brock seemed unfazed.

“You’ll be my queen and we will rule this entire region,” he reached across the table and took your hands. “We can make the arrangements post haste.”

“Why not a fortnight from today?” Obadiah suggested, a cruel smile spreading over his face. “I’ll start the servants on things today.”

“If you insist,” Brock laughed, an empty sound that stabbed deep into you. “What say you, my dear?”

You turned to your uncle, a cold mask over your true thoughts.

“Must we wait a fortnight?” you asked, your lip jutting out in a pout. “Surely a more intimate ceremony can be put together in the next week?”

You could tell Obadiah was trying to guess your plan, the king trying to call your bluff but agreeing wholeheartedly.

“Such eager lovebirds,” he bellowed with another laugh. “Bring the wine, we have much to celebrate today.”

You managed to get through the breakfast, face hurting from all the forced and held smiles that fought against your cringing.

After the meal ended, you excused yourself to lay down for a a while, the excitement having tired you out.

Instead of your chambers, however, you hurried to the observatory, praying to the gods that Stephen was inside.

You found him curled on one of the cots, red cloak strewn over his shoulders, deep asleep. That peace was broken once you tried to quietly shut the door. His eyes flickered open and he took you in with a sleepy smile.

“Your highness,” he greeted, sitting up while you moved to sit across from him. Sensing your sour mood, he reached tenderly for your hands. “He told you.”

“You knew?” you asked, broken that he would keep such pertinent information from you.

“I found out early this morning,” he admitted. “I spent the evening trying to think of a way to make it right, but have kept coming short.”

“I don’t believe that,” you smirked toward a book open to a page detailing the effects of belladonna.

“I realized murder would be frowned upon,” he murmured. “And I think the court would be suspicious if the king and his allies turned up dead all at once.”

“They’re blaming Asgard for my father’s death,” you explained. “They intend to invade after the wedding.”

“How long do we have?” he asked, eyes scanning your face for a hint of good news.

“I uh, I may have made a mistake in that regard,” you replied, expression contorting in guilt. “Initially it was a fortnight, but Obadiah didn’t seem to believe that I would comply. So I suggested seven days.”

“Why would you need to be compliant?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Violet told me to keep my temper under control, so it seemed like the smart thing to do,” you threw your head back in exasperation.

“You aren’t wrong,” he replied, quickly explaining the dilemma Peter had outlined the night before. “But a week means our timetables must move up.”

He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill, quickly scribbling a message and holding it in his palm. It disappeared in a poof of smoke.

“What was that?” you pressed, following him with your gaze when he stood up and paced the room.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he assured her. “Just trust me. There are many forces at work. Don’t make any more moves without first telling me. Promise me.”

You tilted your head, reading his exhausted expression and nodding your head slowly.

How could you not trust him?

He smiled, a sight that sent your heart rushing, in a good way. Moving toward him, you cupped his cheek and stood on your toes to give him a soft kiss.

“Careful princess,” he growled as the kiss became more heated and he stumbled back into one of the chaise’s, your body pressed flush against him. “Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish.”

The warmth inside of you screamed to finish the job, but his warning hit a more rational part of your brain and you pulled away in disappointment.

“Soon,” you promised in a terse whisper, wishing you could ducal your head into a cool pond.

“I have every intention of keeping you to that,” he replied, shifting slightly and adjusting the front of his robes with a sigh. His face flushed, pupils dilated.

Gods you could have had him then and there.

Another folded piece of parchment appeared on the table and you quickly snatched it up, reading over the familiar handwriting before Stephen could jump up from the chaise.

“You’re working with Loki?” you asked, holding up the paper. “You do know it’d be suicide for him to show his face in this kingdom.”

“The guard is on our side,” he explained briskly, grabbing the letter and reading it over. “We need to delay this as much as possible. If he challenges Brock to a duel, the law dictates the match must be honored.”

“Were you not the one worried about Brock’s sudden influx in power?” you asked incredulously. “He’s up to something sinister. Loki will get himself killed!”

“I said trust me,” he countered sharply. “Please, princess. I’m doing this all for you and we need a little more time. Besides, it will get Loki into the castle undetected by Amora.”

You’d almost forgotten about the enchantress. Brock spoke highly of her during breakfast and you’d had the pleasure of meeting the blonde haired woman at the end of the meal. Even from a distance, you could sense there was something wicked about her.

“You will be careful?” you asked, knowing that even if the reassurance was empty, it was something.

“We will do our best,” he promised quietly, both of you knowing full well he was lying.

(—)

Natalia hated wandering to this side of the forest. She knew she could reasonably fight off any ne’er do wells or rogues, but she also knew that the mystics and magic users liked to use the thick foliage coverings as a means of hiding from the public.

Not everyone could serve in a castle and villagers were fickle, superstitious folk.

Still, it was where Michelle had told her to meet with Wanda, the sorceress having passed the message long in hopes of the pair crossing paths.

“My cottage is just around the meadow,” Wanda chimed up, breaking Amat’s train of thought with an amused smile. “You’re early.”

“I wanted to make sure the area was secure,” Nat replied, her fingers dropping from the dagger she’d been about to pull. “Quite a way of passing along a message.”

“I needed to ensure its discretion, I apologize for the roundabout means,” she answered sincerely, moving toward a small cottage and opening the door for her guest. “We have much to discuss.”

“Couldn’t you have passed it along the princess or Strange?”

“It’s not yet the time for them to know,” she hummed, snapping her fingers and igniting the fire under a tea kettle. That had caught the assassin’s interest and she waited until Wanda continued. “You’re aware no body of the king was found?”

“They buried an empty box,” Natalia nodded, glancing at the teacup places in front of her. “The leading rumor is he was thrown in the river and the Kree are holding onto the remains.”

Wanda pulled a few herbs from her pantry, pulling the kettle from the fire with a wave of her hand and floating it over the red heads cup. The hot water fell from the air, passing through the herbs, and landing into the cup as a freshly brewed tea.

“There are many whispers about the fate of the great Iron Defender,” she agreed softly, taking a sip from her own cup with a satisfied smile. “But, what I want to tell you is the truth of the matter.”

“Which is?”

“I’m amazing at dramatic entrances,” a voice cracked, opening the front door of Wanda’s cottages and grinning at Natalia. “Natalia, it’s been quite some time since you were stealing rolls from the kitchen.”

King Anthony Stark himself stood before her, perfectly healthy and strong.

“How?” she blurted out with a wide eyed look between the pair. “Clint saw you pierced through the chest with an arrow.”

“Did he?” Wanda asked, a twinkle of crimson flickering through her eyes. “The men saw what the king wanted them to see.”

“I needed to ensure my enemies thought I was dead,” he explained, settling at the table across from her. “I knew Brock was planning something across the border and once Odin warned me that Amora had taken the place of Mordo, I needed to act to protect the kingdom and my family.”

“You need to remove Obadiah from the throne, he intends to-,” Nat started but Tony nodded slowly at her words.

“I’m well aware,” he stated. “I knew he’d been corresponding with Brock for some time and that there would be a plot against me. I needed to make sure my enemies were all exposed in a fell swoop, but Wanda mentioned the engagement and I was forced to move my plans forward.”

“Plans?”

“I had hoped to move when Obadiah refused to give up the throne on Peter’s birthday,” he explained. “But, given what Brock intends to offer for my daughter’s hand, we can’t wait any longer.”

“What do you mean?” Natalia furrowed her brows. “You don’t mean to move on him now, do you? That’d be madness, not without our allies.”

“Who said I didn’t have allies?” he grinned back at her. “Black Widow, you’re not the only one with a large web. I’ve secured Wakandan and Asgardian support, as well as the support of the southern Kree empire. Steve has been working under my orders to determine the loyalty of the guard. Everything is ready to be put in motion, so long as Brock doesn’t mobilize his troops before the wedding.”

“Did you expect this?” she asked, dumbfounded by all of the information.

“I had expected to deal with them separately, but this makes it convenient,” he shrugged. “But I need you to ensure the safety of the princess and my family.”

“It’s being taken care of,” Natalia replied. “Strange and the others have come up with a plan to get them all to safety. The queen and Morgan will be moved to Kamar-Taj and the princess will be taken to Stephen’s family home.”

“Has he come to his senses, yet?” he asked with a snort.

“Very recently,” Natalia chuckled. “So he has even more to lose with a successful marriage. I’ve never seen him quite this motivated.”

“And what of Peter?”

“He wants to fight,” she explained. “The others are encouraging him to wait, but already some men have sworn allegiance to him. Some of the major houses are beginning to start preparations for civil war.”

Tony considered her words, fingers twirling around the edges of his beard as she spoke.

“This is good then,” he decided. “With Peter rallying the families against Obadiah, he has less claim to the throne.”

“Unless Obadiah catches wind and has him executed on the spot,” Wanda supplied dryly. “We must continue to work discreetly.”

“We need someone inside of the walls to help coordinate from within,” Tony explained.

“Why can’t Wanda do it?” Nat asked and Wanda let out a frustrated sigh.

“Obadiah is keeping out all magic keepers except Stephen and Amora, since he is the Master Sorcerer of the castle and she’s a royal guest,” she shook her head. “It’s an effort to prevent any threats against the royal family.”

“The irony was not lost on us,” Tony added with a small smirk. “I can pay you handsomely- after I reclaim my throne.”

“Wouldn’t that be humiliating?” Natalia teased. “All this work and you lose the throne in the end?”

“That ultimately depends on what you say,” he urged and she bowed her head, offering a hand to shake.

“I want a large parcel of land,” she insisted. “And a title.”

“What about James?”

“I suppose he’ll need a title too,” she paused. “Perhaps another parcel for him as well?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

(---)

“It’s quiet,” you whispered, back against cool grass, fingers intertwined with Stephen’s as the two of you gazed up at the night sky.

“Mandatory curfews,” he murmured. “We’d do well not to attract the guard.”

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?” you rolled toward him, propping yourself up on her elbow and looking down at him with a sly grin.

“We must be absolutely silent,” he agreed, leaning up and cupping your face. Slowly he pulled you closer until you were practically onto of him. Pulling you even closer, you tumbled a ways down the small hill before stopping with a soft thud on the ground below.

Exchanging bewildered looks, you both burst out laughing. You reached forward to pluck a few leaves out of his hair when he caught you by the wrist and kissed you passionately. A moan escaped you when he nibbled on a more sensitive part of your neck, the chill sending shivers everywhere.

“Don’t do that,” he warned, the nibbles becoming small bits, his kiss becoming more desperate and hungry. “I can’t promise to control myself.”

“Then don’t,” you managed through a whimper when he slipped his hands under your corset. He teased, fingers lightly maneuvering over the sensitive skin. You were about to rip the damned thing off yourself when he stopped.

“Are you trying to be cruel?” you asked, face drained of blood and clothes disheveled.

“Something’s coming-,” he scrambled to his feet, drawing up a portal and sealing it shut just before a blast of fire struck. “Someone knew we were there.”

“Impossible,” you shook your head. “You’ve disguised your magic, and the wards around the room are some best rune work I’ve seen in ages.”

He paused, catching snippets of what you were saying.

They hadn’t tracked his signature- they’d tracked yours.

He grabbed your wrist and wrapped his palm around it, muttering a spell and pulling away.

The rune Loki had cast over you had almost faded away.

“What is-?” you started but he was scrambling across the room looking for something to prick the end of his finger to get a little blood.

Spying a needle on your armoire, he grabbing the tiny object and prodded his fingertip, a small bead of blood appearing.

Approaching, he frowned in thought. He needed to be careful. Too powerful and the seidr wouldn’t be able to protect you. Too weak and the seidr would eat through too quickly and its uncontrolled power in your untrained body could wreak devastation the kingdom over.

“Why are you renewing a seal?” you asked, recognizing the symbol on your wrist with pointed interest.

Why were you such a dedicated student? You’d read almost all the texts he had read in his life, often asking thoughtful questions about the material he hadn’t thought of.

This was a basic power sealing rune that had been added on and changed slightly in terms of the magic involved.

“What are you trying to seal, Stephen?” you repeated tersely, eyes narrowed at him.

(---)

7- a king

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dontmindifidontt · 3 years

Text

EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Nanami Kento x Reader JJK fanfic | Chapter 6: Returning the Favor

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov) Word count: 4852 Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery. Chapter Summary: Another scary situation causes Nanami to slowly begin opening up about his past. Warnings: drinking, oral male receiving - 18+, minors dni.

Read on AO3. Masterlist. Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!

My thoughts have been focused on one thing and one thing only all weekend. Him.

I went about my normal routine during my two days off: I read my books while drinking my coffee in the morning, and wine at night. I tidied my apartment and took care of my laundry. I took a trip to the grocery store to restock my fridge. I do everything I normally would but it's all under a haze of memories from Friday evening. Laying in bed Sunday night I hear the familiar ping of my phone, and see Nanami's name on the lock screen for the first time since he returned from his trip.

| It's me. I managed to get a new phone with my same number this weekend, though I never got around to grocery shopping... You'll be seeing me at the bakery tomorrow.

Feeling grateful for the warning I quickly swipe to my clock app and set my alarm for twenty minutes earlier tomorrow. That should give me enough time to get ready without rushing. Not that I need to wear more makeup or style my hair any differently when I know I'll be seeing him, but he makes me want to walk out the door with a little more confidence in the morning and the perfect shade of lipstick helps me find that confidence.

Lunchtime rolls around at work and I don't bother stopping my eyes from darting up at the door every time the bell chimes. Sure enough Nanami steps through the door and makes his way to the register, a smile creeping up on his lips as he gets closer. He says hello and picks out the sandwich he'd like to purchase before we get past the small talk.

"I want to take you out on Friday night. There's an outdoor wine bar downtown I think you'd enjoy, since I know how much you like wine..." he has a bit of a glimmer in his eye while alluding to my wine-fueled display from the other night. "So what do you say?"

I can't help but be taken aback at his question - it's only Monday and he's already asking me out for this weekend? Maybe he's truly trying to be less 'aloof' around me.

"Yes, I'd love to!" I reply without hiding any excitement.

"Perfect," his mouth curls in a smile at my answer, "I want to show you off."

Show me off? He's never said anything like that before. That feels like we're... together.

Before I can say anything he continues, "I can't stop thinking about how god damn good you looked the other night... all weak and begging for me."

I freeze completely, shifting my eyes around to make sure no one else is within earshot.

He senses my surprise at what he has to say but doesn't stop, "It's all I can think about, that and showing off how good you look when you know you're about to be fucked by me."

Now I really freeze. "But the face I really love, when you're desperate and practically crying for me to fill you, that face is just for me."

I nod in agreement, my mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

"So I'll see you then?" He asks nonchalantly, like we're having a totally innocent conversation.

"Yes," I stammer out, watching as he turns to walk out the door and return to work.

I spend the rest of the day finishing my work in a dazed state, operating on autopilot. All I can do is play over my conversation with Nanami and think about what's going to happen Friday night. I was excited to see him again to begin with but now... this is a different kind of excitement.

As much as I enjoyed myself this past weekend, I couldn't help but want more. He gave me so much and yet I didn't even get to see him with his clothes off. He hardly did more than loosen his tie. I know for a fact I won't be able to concentrate for the rest of the week knowing what I plan to do on Friday. How I plan to make him feel...

Friday

I clock out the second my shift is over and practically speed walk home to my apartment to get ready. After staring at my closet for probably an hour each day this week, I ultimately decided on a simple but curve-hugging black midi dress, paired with strappy heels. I wear a deep red lipstick to accentuate my mouth, sophisticated earrings that hang slightly below my earlobes, and apply a touch more highlight than usual.

After getting the name of the wine bar over text I tell Nanami I'll meet him there. Getting picked up by him felt so formal and I didn't mind having the time to myself on the walk. It helps me calm my nerves as I listen to music in my earbuds along the way.

There was no mistaking that I was at the right address once I walked up the winebar from outside. It was decorated immaculately with vines of white and red flowers, looping around the outdoor space as if the bar was a part of nature. The floral decor, however, did not dim the romantic sex appeal of the space. It was still dark and sleek, with a single candle on each of the high tops lining the bar, most of them occupied by attractive looking couples in their 20s or 30s.

Distracted by my surroundings, I jumped when I felt a familiar hand grip the small of my back. Whispering "you look gorgeous" into my ear, Nanami pulls me into his side, firmly pressing a kiss to the top of my head after giving the compliment.

"Thank you," I look up at him, catching a glimpse of myself in the reflection of his glasses, "I had a feeling you'd like this dress." I purposefully left out the fact I spent days deciding on it.

He leads us across the outdoor bar towards one of the few open high tops, and we stand beside each other at it. After waving over a server to place our drink orders (I went with his suggestion of some sort of fancy red I can't even remember,) he turns his full attention back to me.

"Tell me about your week," he states, more than asks.

Attempting to make my week sound more exciting than it actually was, I tell him about the new dessert I finally perfected in the bakery, the current book I'm reading, and strategically leave out the part about how many hours I spent daydreaming waiting for today to be Friday.

He smiles and nods along while I talk, fully immersing himself in the conversation and giving replies of his own. I have always seemed to view him as this straightforward yet vague man, though the vague piece of his demeanor is slowly chipping away.

Sipping my wine, I nearly spit it out when I hear him say, "I've thought about you every night this week." He wraps one arm around my side as he said it, pulling me in closer so that I'm leaning against him. I feel grateful for the support as my knees go weak at the scent of his cologne. Memories of last weekend begin filling my brain at the smell.

He continues to go on about how much he looked forward to seeing me this week, and my mind begins to wander. Is this him opening up? He told me he wanted to be less aloof around me, I think this is it. I don't let myself feel too accomplished in cracking his shell, however, because I remember just how many mysteries there still remain about him and his past.

We continue to chat about our weeks and flirt in the process, sneaking glances at each other's lips as we raise our glasses for a sip. Something about the stare of his eyes peering over a glass makes my stomach tighten and my thighs clench. His stare is just so all consuming.

When it comes time for him to walk me home, the combination of the wine buzz with the excitement of how well the night went makes me feel like I'm walking back on clouds. We continue to chat playfully and bump hips into each other gently as we walk side by side, my excitement building with every step since I planned to invite him inside once we arrived.

As I'm about to crack a joke about the bickering couple that stood next to us at the bar, I feel Nanami tense up and stop in his tracks beside me.

"Whats wr-" I ask, and before I can finish he juts an arm out in front of me pushing me against the wall of a nearby building towards a small alleyway.

"Stay right here," he demands, leaving me concealed in the shadows from the tall buildings on each side of me. He turns quickly and stalks back in the direction we came, reaching inside his suit jacket towards his waistband. I peek my head out around the corner of the building to see him wielding a patterned blunt sword - where the hell did that come from?

I panic and pinch my eyes shut, turning my body so that I'm once again concealed between building, back pressed against the wall. I try to repeat 'everything's fine' in my head over and over again, afraid to wonder what would cause Nanami to stalk after an unknown threat behind us. Was something following us?

Before I can work myself into a frenzy, Nanami reappears in front of me, gripping my shoulders and asking if I'm alright. It's a familiar sight from the last strange encounter we faced in the bakery a couple weeks ago.

"I'm okay but what the HELL happened? Do you have a WEAPON? What's going on" I tried to keep myself from crying as the panic from the past few moments overwhelmed me. Nanami tried his best to calm me down and brought me in for a hug, but I continued to demand answers. After he repeatedly avoids my questions I snap. Memories of him distracting me with a kiss the last time we were in this situation come flooding to the surface and I'm suddenly furious.

Tears pricking at the corners of my eyes I finally blurt what I've been wanting to say for weeks. "Why won't you tell me what's going on!? I really thought you were starting to open up to me but now you're ignoring my questions all over again. It makes me feel like I don't even know you at all!" I pant after letting it out, staring at him expectantly as we remain standing in the alleyway, my back against the wall.

"There's a reason I don't tell you much about me or my past..." he trails off at the end of his sentence but I stay silent to force him to continue. "It's to protect you."

I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him in equal parts anger and confusion. "What makes you think I think I need somebody else to protect me? Or even worse, that I need to be completely oblivious as to why?"

He shakes his head in frustration before answering.

"I just... all I can say is what I used to do, what I still can do, is dangerous. And I don't tell you not because I don't trust you, but because you're safer this way." He seems to be having a silent, internal debate with himself before he continues. "I wasn't always a part of the corporate world, working amongst businessmen with no thoughts behind their eyes besides money. I used to work a form of... security. And I had to protect myself and others from very bad things. What happened tonight and the other week in the bakery are related to that."

I stared back in silence, completely in shock and unsure what to even ask next.

"These... invisible problems I've told you about once before, at the bakery? They follow me. I'm used to seeing them everywhere I go, but it wasn't a problem until recently. I'm worried that now they're focusing on you for being... connected to me." He seemed to think very carefully about his choice in words.

Hearing the honesty in his voice makes me feel I can trust him, but I still find myself struggling with the idea that he can't tell me what's really going on. Is it truly for my benefit not to know? It's hard to see how it's possible for me to be better off in the dark.

Still feeling unsure, but slightly more trusting in his decisions, I respond. "I trust you, Nanami. I still don't love the fact that I'm more or less clueless to what's going on, but I appreciate you telling me more tonight. This doesn't scare me, you know." That last part is only partially true, but he seems to let out a breath at my response.

"I promise I'd tell you everything if that's what would keep you safe, but I truly don't think that's the case. At least not now."

I choose to trust him and hold off on asking any more questions. I let out a sigh, motioning for us to continue the walk back to my apartment.

The two of us stand at the foot of my doorsteps, still shaking off the events of the night. "I don't think you should be staying at your place tonight - definitely not alone... I don't know if we were followed," Nanami says with a hint of guilt in his voice.

"I told you; I'm not scared, I'll be fine."

"I should stay with you. Just in case," he suggests and I immediately push back.

"I promise I'm fine," I reason with him, and he looks visibly stressed at my refusal of his help. "I'll call you if anything happens." He eases up at that but still looks apprehensive, as if he's still not fully convinced he's willing to drop the conversation. He takes another long look at me and realizes I'm not backing down on my assertion that I can fend for myself.

"Fine," he caves, "I won't stay tonight. But I'll have the sound on my phone turned all the way up if you need me. In fact, you should probably stay on the phone with me after I leave until you fall asleep."

I let out a short laugh at this suggestion, unable to hide my amusement at how desperately he is trying to keep tabs on me. It's endearing, it really is.

He looks confused at first but his face softens when he realizes I'm truly not scared anymore. "I just want you to be safe, okay?" his voice is pleading and his stare shifts back and forth from my eyes to my lips. "I... care about you and I have the ability to protect you, so that's what I'm going to do. I won't let anything hurt you."

I think back to the not one, but two, times he has done exactly that. He seemed to flip a switch and instinctually shift into the role of protector and fighter like it was a second nature. I would be lying if I said it didn't turn me on.

I watch his face as he continues to look down at me with total seriousness, meaning every word he just said. Something in his eyes unlocks a part of me. A swirl of emotions I feel as if I've never before tapped in to rise to the surface. I feel more than just protected, I feel listened to, cared for, and truly valued.

An overwhelming urge to show Nanami just how grateful I feel begins to take over me, and a familiar heat begins to warm my skin. He's already given me so much, and shown me how he feels. He's put himself between me and danger, he's already corrected or apologized for anything I've had issues with, and after last Friday night's escapades he has truly givena lot to me.

My core tightens at the memory of how he reacted when he unexpectedly came home early only to find me half-drunk, blasting music and dancing on his couch without a care in the world, wearing his shirt with barely much else underneath. My knees go weak and I feel a familiar pulsation begin to thrum between my legs when I remember the long, slow licks he dragged across the most sensitive part of my body. I need to make him feel the same pleasure I did that night.

Breathless and unsteady on my feet, I lurch for the collar of his shirt and pull his face down to meet mine. Without missing a beat he wraps his arms around me, linking them against my lower back. His mouth crushes mine in a kiss and I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist and whispering in his ear to walk us inside. He climbs the few steps to the door and we push through the entryway.

Shutting the door behind him, my apartment is silent except for the occasional drawing of breath from either of us and the sound of our palms aggressively sliding across clothing.

"My room's that way," I say while pointing an arm down the hall, still suspended above the ground by his hold around me.

"Who said I wanted to do this on your bed?" He replies suggestively. My eyes widen as I pull my face away from his to stare.

He winks as he says next, "You seemed to like being on the couch just fine last time."

I push both my hands against his broad chest in order to get out of his hold and plant my feet back on the ground. In one swift movement I grab his wrist and drag him over to the small couch just a few steps away in my living room, pushing him backwards so he is seated with his legs spread and feet apart on the floor.

I put one hand on each of his knees as I lean my upper half forward to kiss him slowly, trailing my mouth and small flicks of my tongue along his jawline, eventually making my way to his neck as he groans in response. After tracing circles along his knees and up parts of his thigh with my fingers I instead busy my hands with his shirt, prying apart each of the buttons until it is fully open. With his chest and stomach exposed I can see the heaving rise of his chest as he breathes. The sight makes my heart beat faster.

"You taking control now, huh?" he teases with a smirk while making no attempt to move out from under me.

"I'm just settling up what I owe," I reply seductively while kicking one leg up onto the couch beside him so I am halfway into a straddle, leaning my chest closer to his and ready to begin trailing my kisses lower.

He pulls his head back to look at me inquisitively. He then grabs the hip of my other leg and pulls my knee forward so that both are on either side of him, bringing my hips down into a full straddle against him, our faces only inches apart. "You know you'll never have to owe me for anything, right?" He asks in all seriousness.

Suddenly my cheeks are blushing not from my arousal but from sheer embarrassment. "I know, obviously..." I reply, trying to hiding the fact that my dirty talk wasn't coming across as sexy as I intended.

"Good," he eases up in his seated position once more, bucking his hips slightly as adjusts his position and making my pussy throb in the process. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to with me," before I have a chance to explain hooking up with him is all I can ever think about he continues, "And on the other hand... you have free reign to dowhatever you want with me."

With that I am absolutely soaked.

Not bothering to attempt any more dirty talk, I decide to put my mouth to better use. I kiss up and down the side of his neck while undoing the belt of his pants. While I tug at his belt he pulls my dress down from my shoulders in one swoop. After unzipping his pants far enough to pull off I frantically crawl back down off his lap, letting my knees hit the floor as I pull both his pants and underwear down with me.

I pull them off completely and toss to the side, still in a kneeling position. Bracing myself, I slowly raise my gaze back up to his lap and my mouth goes dry at the sight. He had pulled off his unbuttoned shirt while I was repositioning myself and was now fully nude in front of me, slightly reclined with his elbows propped up on the back of the couch as if in a total state of relaxation.

My lips curl into a devilish smile while I take in the look on his face. He is visibly out of breath and staring at me with such concentration it feels as if his eyes could burn holes. Despite that, he doesn't speak, and I can only assume it's because he doesn't want to beg. Deciding to move at a torturously slow pace because of this, I scan my eyes along his neck, counting the few veins that have popped up along the sides. Immediately following I trace my gaze across his collarbone, to the rounded and muscular shoulder connected at the end. Flicking my eyes to his middle, I make him wait as I watch his body rise with each breath, placing my hands on either sides of his waist. Finally, I look down to his lap.

As I do, I see his dick twitch slightly in response as if he can feel my eyes on him. I bring my face closer to stare, purposefully hovering over him so he can feel the warm air of my breath without actually being touched. He's so visibly hard that it doesn't make sense how he can sit so comfortably before me. It's as if all of his concentration is focused on letting me be in control at my own pace, despite how fucking aching he must feel.

Deciding to sneak one last look at his face before committing every ounce of my being to making my mouth feel like paradise on him, I peer upwards through my eyelashes. At that same moment he moves his arms from their propped position on the couch to come towards me, cupping each hand on either sides of my face without dropping his stare on my lips. "Don't make me beg," he grunts through his teeth.

I hold back my taunting smile as I reply, "Wouldn't dream of it." With that, I slide my tongue down the underside of his cock, beginning at the top. Once I reach the base I wrap the tip of my tongue around him and slide back up, angling my head to the side. He exhales sharply at the sensation and I do it again, fully coating his dick in my saliva.

Wetting the inner portion of my lips I pucker and press my mouth to his tip, slowly taking him in but stopping once his head has just gotten to the tip of my tongue. He desperately tries not to squirm while panting and swearing under his breath, clearly feeling inpatient but I don't budge. Instead, I suction on the very end of his head, and trace my finger down his shaft towards his balls. Cupping them, I begin to massage them back and forth and he involuntarily bucks his hips in response.

"Patient," I say, "I thought you weren't going to beg?"

Before he can respond I swap the positioning of my mouth and my hand, gripping his still wet dick in my fist as I press my tongue against the smooth skin of his balls. I widen my mouth and use my tongue to slip one into my mouth and begin to push and pull on it with the suction of my mouth. His hands now grip the top of my head as his fingers flex as if he's desperate to keep control of all of the muscles in his body. Again using my tongue I swirl and suck, alternating to his other ball and pushing it around the inside of my mouth with varying pressure. My hand that's working his dick continues at an even pace, occasionally pressing my thumb down on the center of his head and rubbing small circles.

My other hand reaches around and grips the firm side of his ass, pressing my fingers into the muscle. His breathing gets faster and I open my mouth wider to let go, instead returning to tracing my tongue up and down his shaft.

He hums in pleasure at the way my mouth glides faster and faster along the wetness. I continue to slip up and down, enjoying the sound of his shaky breathing, until I decide to suddenly change course and part my lips, taking him into my mouth fully. His breath catches and his abs tighten as he grabs ahold of my head in his hands, gasping out an 'oh fuck' to the new sensation.

Using every muscle I have I hollow out my cheeks and tuck my lips tight, careful to keep my jaw wide enough to fully separate my top and bottom rows of teeth. I bob my head back and forth, feeling his smooth skin slide against my swollen lips and pressing the back of my tongue against his twitching head. Going deeper with each thrust I can sense that he's nearing release. His hips begin to rise up into my face more and more, demanding that I take him all in.

Fully preparing to work my jaw past the point of pain I grip onto his backside, holding his cheeks in my hands so that I can keep him pressed into me. Caging my head in place with his hands he continues to cuss and mutter variations of 'you feel so fucking good' before he can no longer speak and just grunts with each thrust.

Feeling him twitch as he nears the back of my throat I know he's seconds from coming undone and I brace myself for the release. I hum a moan around him to give him the go-ahead to finish, sending vibrations along his cock with the sound. His hips stutter and he moans in response, jolting forward and nearly choking me on a gag as I feel a warm burst of thick liquid coat the far roof of my mouth. He continues to pump two more spurts into my throat and mouth as I moan in pleasure at the fact that I've just made him reach his climax. He gently starts to slide himself out of my mouth and I keep my lips wrapped tight around him until he's fully out, then swallow tightly.

Licking my lips I raise my eyes up at his disheveled state, seeing him stare down at me in equal parts disbelief and amazement while out of breath. "Holy fucking shit," is all he can say and I pull myself up from my knees, straddling him once again only this time in nothing but my bra and soaked-through panties.

As I hover my hips over him, careful not to apply pressure to his oversensitive cock below me, he reaches around to fully cup my ass in both hands. He begins to slide two of his fingers around, reaching to press up against my entrance.

I stop him and tease with a smile, "that was my turn to leave you exhausted and fucked blind."

He can barely form a sentence while grappling for a better grip on my hips as I lift myself up off the couch and slide my dress back on.

"Save your energy for next time," I wink, "I plan on making you need it."

..........

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thank you for reading !! pls tell me everyone has seen the new official Nanami art with the undone tie im crying

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