Tumgik
#(she's my wife and no I will not accept otherwise)
xoshepard · 2 months
Text
there's this video going around tiktok that starts w a woman addressing sapphics and saying "if you had to shoot your shot with a woman right now what would you say" and usually i just see stitches of ppl being relatably awkward but i just decided on a whim to watch the og video and she's like giving tips on how to make the first move depending on what your flirting style is and i deadass am never going to get an s/o DHKSHDJDND I CANT DO ANY OF THOSE THINGS ALL I CAN DO IS 🧍
3 notes · View notes
aashi-heartfilia · 4 months
Text
The hypocrisy of Jinshi and MaoMao
Tumblr media Tumblr media
*light novel spoilers*
I just love how hypocritical MaoMao's nature is. She yells at Jinshi for being a 'Masochist' and yet we see that she's no different. Now, by definition Masochist is a person who drives sexual gratification from their own pain and humiliation, plus it relates to Jinshi's tendency to do self harm (like burning his skin with a brand)
And what is MaoMao's most favourite thing in this world?
POISON
Tumblr media
She literally takes pleasure in consuming it and no one can convince me otherwise. Plus she uses dangerous plants and animals and snakes whatnot in the name of her so-called experiments. Her dad may call her a 'mad Scientist' but that is a direct indication of self harm.
Tumblr media
And she calls Jinshi a Masochist.
I mean, think about it! The amount of anxiety she gives to Jinshi! She came prepared with a vomit inducing medicine but even she had no idea whether it would work or not. She was just hoping it would work in the salt chapter.
And the same goes for her hand, on which she has conducted countless experiments. One flower even burned her skin and its marks never left her skin. She said it was all for her hobby. What kind of weird hobby is that? Maybe, our little adorable mad scientist is just like that.
One brands his own skin, while the other takes heavenly pleasure in consuming poison.
So my point is, Jinshi and MaoMao are not that different as one might think they are and that's why their dynamic works so well.
Let's look at the excerpts from volume 5:
She didn’t know how long they sat that way. All she knew was that Jinshi was looking down at her with a faintly triumphant expression, as if he saw that the breath had reached every corner of her body now. He wiped away the tears that had sprung to her eyes as she struggled to breathe. It was then that Maomao felt a flash of intense anger. “I said that if you were going to kill me, you should do it with poison,” she told him. “I refuse to let you poison yourself,” Jinshi said, his fingers tracing her lips. “You can’t pretend you didn’t know that you were one of the candidates. As much as I’m sure you’d like to.” He wasn’t done, either: “Who was that man, anyway? I’m sure you’re not a dancer.” So he had been watching them! “I was just paying for my drink,” Maomao said. “It didn’t cost much.” She tried to look away, but with his hand on her head, she really couldn’t.
Jinshi just choked her and yet he refuses to let MaoMao poison herself. A lot of people misinterpret this scene, and don't like it all that much, saying it was just fanservice stuff but this is how I see it: Jinshi wasn't trying to kill MaoMao, he was just trying to make MaoMao submit to him for once (even if the way he did it was very wrong, but guess he's kinky like that). MaoMao is actively trying to harm herself and Jinshi loves MaoMao a lot, he cannot just let her kill herself.
It was more about him trying to exert his dominance in their weirdish - complicated relationship and that also backfires on him as we see in the next volume that MaoMao escapes Jinshi's grasps using Pairin's techniques.
Tumblr media
And then they both continue to avoid each other in the entire next volume! Because they both realised that they have crossed boundaries.
They both are hypocrites.
And they both refuse to accept their feelings.
In one of the later volumes, she gives Jinshi a piece of her mind on how he should tell her everything clearly, unequivocally, what he feels, and he literally declares that "he will make her his wife", which is nice and all but look at the wording MaoMao used here....
Excerpts from LN Vol 7, chapter 19 called "A man and a woman play the game"
"You’re forever telling me I need to use my words, Master Jinshi, but are you in any position to criticize? Everything you say to me, everything you do, it’s like it’s calculated to save you from ever having to actually say what you mean! To make me figure it all out! You know, you remind me of someone. You act exactly like a man who used to come by our brothel all the time. He was in love with one of the girls, but he would never just come out and say it. He thought it should be obvious from the way he acted. He was so sure he had a good thing going with this woman that he never sent her so much as a letter. I remember how forlorn he looked when someone else swooped in and snatched her away! He kept coming to the brothel after that—to get drunk and whine to the ladies. Well, in my opinion, he could have avoided all that heartbreak if he’d told the woman how he felt. Clearly, unequivocally, so that she knew where they stood. It was the least he could have done!”
Everything came out in a torrent. She felt like she’d said it all in one breath. It was strange, she thought, to hear so many words come out of her own mouth. She was mystified. Jinshi was no less startled, but the shock soon left his face, replaced by something else. He got up off the bed and stared down at Maomao.
Shit. Now I’ve done it. She’d given him a piece of her mind, and he was about to give her one back.
“So I should be clear, should I? Unequivocal? I should say what I mean? If I did, would you actually listen to me? Is that what you’re telling me? I’m going to hold you to that! Right this minute. I’ll say it all. Don’t plug your ears—listen to me!” He grabbed her hands as she was in the process of trying to put her fingers in her ears. He took a breath. He was looking at Maomao, but somehow he seemed almost embarrassed. Finally he managed, “Now listen to me, y—I mean, Maomao! Listen close! I am going to make you my wife!”
It's one heck of a chapter and I suggest you give it a go! The title of the chapter says "A man and a woman play the game" as if to emphasize the very fact that both Jinshi and MaoMao are playing the game.
Jinshi has never confessed his true feelings before this chapter and only implied that he wanted to make MaoMao his wife.
The implications were heavy though on Jinshi's part, and as smart as MaoMao is, anyone would have guessed that MaoMao was one of the candidates for Jinshi's consort. Even the clothes she received (the ones she wore to the banquet) were also provided by Jinshi along with the hairpin. It is never stated outright but seeing as the hairpin was from Jinshi, the clothes are also implied to be the same.
Tumblr media
More or less she's always deliberately ignoring the possibility of having anything to do with him, that is more than professional. Some may call it denial, I call it dense. Maybe, to some extent, she herself is not aware of her feelings because she never lets herself feel anything.
Even Suiren pointed it out pretty early in the manga, that maybe it's MaoMao's way of being reserved. We need to keep in mind that MaoMao is an unreliable narrator and it's more of what she does, rather than what she says that makes a difference.
Even in the chapter that I have quoted above, she had every reason to leave Jinshi, she wasn't working for him after all. But she stayed to make tea for him, even after the fact that she had a long day too. She was almost just as exhausted as Jinshi and yet she was there preparing medicinal tea, so that he could get a better sleep.
Maybe she herself is yet to realise just how deep her feelings run. Till vol 12 she seems to have accepted them, but she still is yet to acknowledge their depth. Maybe it's because of her childhood.
It's not a traumatic backstory but MaoMao had a sad childhood nonetheless....
She was raised by her grand uncle and her real father was eccentric, who scared her. Her mother must also appear to be kind of demonic to her, since she was desperate enough to cut MaoMao's Pinky finger and send it to Lahan. So it's safe to say that MaoMao never received proper parental affection. And adding to the fact that, a brothel is not exactly an ideal place for raising a child.... especially when the birth of MaoMao was the one thing that brought the brothel to its knees...even if being born wasn't her choice.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Plus MaoMao stated it herself that when she was a baby, no one would come to sooth her until their work was finished, implying that even if MaoMao and her brothel sisters are close, they are not that close. A mother's love is different and she never received it. No one can love you more than your mother and MaoMao was deprived of that. She soon realised that no one was coming. Life is hard and she has no choice but to face it!
Tumblr media
So, she got interested in poison.
Maybe she doesn't love herself or her life as much as she says / pretends she does. She's always like "yeah, I would very much like my head to be with my body" and "if I stay low profile maybe I can survive here" etc but maybe deep down that's not the case. Maybe that's why she loves poison so much. The implications are crazy.
And to break MaoMao's shell, Jinshi has no choice but to be a bit more forceful at times? At least that's how I interpret that choking scene. Jinshi was angry at MaoMao because she deliberately suggested him to marry consort Rishu and danced with Rikuson.
Even if Jinshi never said it outright, he was giving hints the entire time.
But well the tables turned and MaoMao topped him instead, lol (vol 7) and later we even see that our little stray cat has accepted Jinshi and she's ready to be in a relationship with him (vol 12).
Plus she is intrigued by the process of birth (she wants to eat her baby's placenta, it's kind of uggghhh.... but anyways, that MaoMao we're talking about, she's just weird that way)
Maybe not after too long she'll realise that if she has to give birth, she can only have it with Jinshi and no one else.
~Sunshine
4K notes · View notes
ellatoone7 · 6 days
Text
❄︎ Night off ❄︎
Alexia's favourite girls series
Tumblr media
Tía Mapí and Ingrid to the rescue
When Mapí and Ingrid suggested a sleepover, you thought that it meant you and Alexia would be staying over too but they insisted that you and Alexia get some much-needed alone time. Alexia didn’t even hesitate to accept as she thought of all the things, she could finally do to you in an empty house. The walls haven’t heard her name being screamed in a while and she doesn’t want them to get used to that.
Alexia had gotten a few new things recently as a gift for herself that she has desperately wanted to use on you, but she didn’t just miss making love to you, she missed spending quality time with just you. A phone call was made, and she now had a reservation at your favourite restaurant. Emilia had been bouncing off the walls as soon as she found out she got to spend some time with her friends Sofia and Carlos. 
“You have your toothbrush?” Valentina nodded as she swung of her Mami’s arm. “I go to sleepover with Carl!” Alexia chuckled as she swung her up and caught her with ease tickling her belly as she squirmed in her arms. Emilia shuffled out of her room with her Barcelona backpack wrapped around her back. “Vamos!” She shouted as she legged it for the door, she was yanked back by her bag as Alexia turned her around. “Todavía tenemos tres horas hasta que tengamos que irnos Emilia.” The little blonde groaned loudly as she slumped on the ground, “I will wait.” Alexia stared down in amusement as she ruffled her hair.
Isabella was excited too, she loved Ingrid and because she was the oldest, she got to stay up later than the rest and watch a movie with her Tia’s. “Mama where is my charger for my iPad.” You held it over your shoulder as you were cooking, “Gracias.” Isabella left a kiss to your cheek before running off to do God know what. 
“Mm, smells good mi amor.” Alexia sigh as she walks in. Val is hanging onto her back as her little arms slightly choke her mother. Strong arms encircled your waist as she pressed her sturdy body against yours. Val giggled as she watched her mamí kiss your cheek, you giggled too before turning in your wife’s embrace to be greeted with two near identical smiles. 
Val was the absolute perfect mix of the two of you, she had your blonde hair and Alexia’s hazel eyes and smile. As she grew into her personality it was clear that she picked up aspects of both you and your wife which only further delighted the both of you. Whereas Emilia was a carbon copy of you and Isabella was the carbon copy of Alexia.
“How are the two cutest girls standing in my kitchen right now?” You cooed as you pinched both of their cheeks and like mother and daughter a bright blush graced both of their tanned freckly faces. “Don’t let Meels and Bella here you bebita.” Alexia whispered as she playfully bounced the little girl on her back, “Debemos ser los favoritos de mamá. ¿No crees princesa?” Val placed her finger over her Mami’s lips as she giggled loudly. You couldn’t resist to leave a kiss to her chubby cheek as she patted her Mami’s shoulder in sympathy. Alexia was pouting from the lack of affection before you too took pity on her a pressed a kiss to her cheek. 
Val frowned, “Kiss?” You cocked your head in curiosity, chancing a glance at your wife who mirrored your expression. “Why Mami didn’t get her special kiss?” The little girl babbled as she stared at her two parents, “Special kiss?” Alexia asked as she tried to figure out what her little girl was trying to tell her. “Sí, Emilia says Mami gets special kisses on the lips otherwise she will die.” Val’s eyes widened as she came to her own realisation, “No! Mami die? Quick Mama!” 
You were absolutely blindsided at the number of emotions that your daughter just expressed but she was on the verge of a meltdown and your wife was trying to hide her laugh. Before it got out of hand you quickly partook in your favourite activity and left a sweet kiss against your wife’s familiar lips. Alexia, as always, looked happily dazed as she chased your lips. You hold her in place by her chin as you turn to smile at your now very smiley daughter, ‘Bien?” Val nodded as she rested her chin against her shoulder. “Mami won’t die if she doesn’t get her special kiss, she’ll just get upset.” Val nods in understanding but you can tell it went through one ear and straight out the other. 
True to your words, Alexia was pouting heavily as she tried to push her lips towards you. You give in and kiss her until she’s satisfied, Val still has a happy smile stretching her little face once again identical to her mothers who is still sporting her cheeky grin. “Vale, stop distracting me and go get into trouble somewhere else.’ You laugh gently as they send each other sneaky smirks and with one last kiss for both of them which were happily reciprocated, and they scampered off. 
After you had rounded your family for lunch and watched each of them inhale their pasta, another thing they got from their hound of a mother and ask for seconds immediately you were finally in the car. Alexia was trying to wipe some sauce of Emilia’s face much to her disgruntlement, “Vamos, just one more wipe prometto.” Emilia huffs but let’s her quickly clean her face as she pushes her hand off. You on the other hand struggled with getting a squirmy Valentina into her seat so you can fasten her seatbelt. 
Finally, after a swift kick to the jaw and a wrestle to tie her seatbelt, you were on the road. Alexia’s hand was waiting for you as you quickly interlock your fingers, like clockwork she raised it to leave the softest of kisses to the back of your hand. There was a mixed reaction in the back of the car as Isabella groaned playfully, Emilia shielded her eyes and Val giggled. You bit your lip to stifle your laugh and you didn’t even need to look over to know your wife was the exact same.
Mapí and Ingrid were only delighted to welcome their extra guests as were the children as Valentina and Carlos both screamed excitedly at the sight of each other. “You two are insane, you know that?” Ingrid laughed loudly as she hugged you tightly, “I believe the words you are looking for are ‘thank you’” You glanced over at your wife who was holding Sofia like a little baby and placing kisses all over her face. An hour passed as you helped your girls settle in for the night before you decided to make your move. “Girls, we’re leaving!” You shouted and instantly there was herd of footsteps before they came into sight. Isabella hugged you tightly and promised to look after her sisters before making her Mami promise to play football with her when they got home tomorrow. 
Alexia picked Val up and placed kisses all over her face, “Do you have Senor Fluffy?” Val gasped in horror as she shook her head at your question, you were just about to resign to the fact you would have to drove home and get him when Alexia being the greatest mother she is pulled your daughters beloved stuffed rabbit from her back pocket. “Mr. Fluffy!” She reached out and snatched her stuffy to cuddle it close to her face. “Did you think he would let me leave without him? He’s been just as excited to come.” You smiled softly as her eyes lit up, forever infatuated with how her mother could communicate with her stuffy. “Gracias mucho Mamí. I love you.” 
You watch you wife melt as she tucks her daughters face into her neck. Deciding to give them their moment you step away to say goodbye to Emilia. “Mama, I promise I won’t have too much fun without you.” The blonde whispered as if she just confessed to a murder. “Darling, promise me you’ll have all the fun tonight.” Emilia hesitated always wanting to make sure you were okay. Emilia had imprinted on you and was like your partner in crime. Just like your wife she was extremely protective over you. 
Alexia walked over to say her goodbye while also catching the tail end of the adorable conversation. “Who will you have fun with?” She asked with her famous puppy eyes that neither you nor Alexia were immune too. “I will be with Mami all night, she’ll make sure I have fun.” Emilia lit up as if remembering that you were going to be with Alexia, “You love Mami!” You laughed as she held her hand out for your wife who was positively beaming at her little family. “Mami, promise me you’ll make sure Mama has fun.” Alexia took her request very seriously as she placed her hand on her heart and got down on one knee. “Te juro que me aseguraré de que mamá se divierta al máximo sin ti. Será difícil, pero me esforzaré.” Emilia seemed pleased with her commitment and the stern face quickly softened as she placed her forehead against Alexia’s. ‘Te amo Mami.” Alexia kissed her nose gently, ‘Te amo mucho mi princesa.” 
After the goodbyes were said and thanks given you and Alexia were back in her cupra. You already missed their little faces, but you knew they were going to have the time of their lives with your best friend’s. It also helped to have your wife who you got very little alone time with next to you. That was also obviously on the forefront of Alexia’s mind as she wasted no time connecting your lips frantically. Gone was the sweet and gentle Ale as she immediately tugged at your hair and slipping her tongue in your mouth. You moaned into her, longing to be closer to her now that you were free from any interruptions. 
Large hands hoisted your body over the middle console as she settled you in her lap, legs either side of hers. The kiss only grew more heated until whines were falling from your lips, and you were two seconds away from grinding pathetically in her lap. Alexia didn’t let up an inch as the minute you pulled away her lips were attached to your neck wanting to mark you as fast as she possibly could. It took everything in you to gently coax her away from her trance as she she stared up breathlessly at you. Pupils dilated and lips swollen, you wondered how you could go so long with just quickies and really quiet fits of passion in the middle of the night.
Her cold fingers were a stark contrast to your hot skin as she drew patterns up and down your bare back. “I’ll miss the girls, but god do I need this.” Your words were practically moaned out as you kissed her soundly again, slightly nipping at her lips to convey your need for her. Alexia could barely breath let alone respond as she leans her head back against the head rest. You laugh gently at her dishevelled form before deciding that it was now a good time to put an unfortunate stop to these activities until you were in a more respectable place. “Do you think it’s too late to ask them to keep the girls for the weekend?’ You slap her chest playfully as she chuckles at her own joke, pulling you closer so your body is flush against hers. 
Before you knew it, you were throwing on your best dress as it neared seven. When you made it home after many detours and impromptu make out sessions and one very close call where Alexia nearly had you in her backseat, you and Alexia relished in the very rare silence. As much as Alexia wanted to have you properly naked in bed so she could have her way with you, she also just missed being in your presence, so she quickly grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, and had you cuddled up against her on the couch while watching whatever shitty reality show she pretended to hate.
Alexia threw on her best casual suit that matched your dress and was now watching you add the finishing touches to your makeup. She loved just watching you doing mundane things, absolutely mesmerised at anything you did. You reached for her wanting her to be as close to you as possible, her hand fit in yours perfectly like they always did. She brushed her lip across your shoulder blade as her arms winded around your waist, pulling you back into her. 
Alexia swayed you both softly, a smile that was firmly reserved for you laying contently on her face. “Eres tan bella mi Vida.” Another kiss to the crook of your neck this time was delicately placed to confirm her words. It always baffled you that the woman behind you could still make you fall in love with her more and more every single day even though you had been together for you whole life. 
You pressed a kiss of your own to her jaw as you craned your neck to meet her pretty eyes. “I love you. More than anything in this whole world.” Alexia held you tighter meeting you halfway and placing the most loving of kisses against your awaiting lips. “Vamos mi amor, taxi is outside.” You sighed happily, grabbing your bag and then your wife’s hand as she led you towards the car. 
You had decided not to drive based on the fact that you were both a little bit wine drunk and had plans on having a few more glasses at dinner. Alexia was only delighted to not be driving as it allowed her to wrap an arm around your shoulder and whisper the most mind-numbing sweet things into your ear along with controlled and tamed kisses here and there. The usual booth in the corner of the restaurant was waiting the two of you as she helped you into your seat. Alexia’s arms wrapped around your shoulder again as you leaned into her firm shoulder, giggling at how you still couldn’t properly read the menu. 
Nevertheless, you didn’t even need to look at the menu as Alexia ordered for you, a kind smile on her face, something that always made your heart flutter was how kind your wife was even though it was just basic manner you knew you were extremely lucky. You fell into your own little bubble as you drunkenly giggled at every little comment both of you were making.
“So, we are free for the night. What do you want to do?” Her freckles were extremely prominent in the light as she placed her chin on her hand, leaning against the table. “There is a lot of things I want you to do tonight.” You whisper softly, gently biting at her earlobe as she inhaled deeply. “No te preocupes cariño, tengo muchas cosas planeadas para cuando te lleve a la cama.” Her words rolled off her tongue as they always did when she spoke in her native tongue, and it made you want her impossibly more. 
“Other than that, do you have anything else in mind?” Ever the pleaser Alexia wanted to do something fun with you, making sure she truly doesn’t waste a second. “Let’s go to the beach.” You quip making her smile brightly, so many of your dates had ended up on the beach always leading to great memories. In fact, the first time you ever talked about having kids was at the beach. You had just moved in together, finally being able to permanently move to Spain and start your life with your soulmate. You were both twenty-one, once again slightly tipsy as you lay on her chest. 
“Have you ever thought about having kids?” You slowly asked, not for even one second fearing her answer as you cuddle closer to her. You could practically hear her thoughts, perks of being best friends since you could even talk. “Four maybe five.” She replied so casually as if she hadn’t been thinking about it since she first kissed you. “All girls not that it would matter but knowing the Putellas it will be girls.” You laugh softly as she nods at her long line of women in her family. “You obviously haven’t thought about it at all,” You teased as she quietly groaned, pushing you onto your back as she props herself up on one arm, “Next you’ll be telling me you have their names picked out too.” It was a joke until you saw her cheeky grin and realised that she did in fact have names ready. 
Every time you go the beach you think of that moment yet now you have those girls, already secretly planning on having a fourth after each birthday passes. Your food arriving did little to break your bubble as Alexia held out her fork immediately feeding you the first bite. Like you always did in their restaurant you both hounded down your food until you nearly felt sick from how much you ate. You finished off your glass of wine while also declining the offer of desert as Alexia claimed to go to the bathroom like she did every time she wanted to secretly pay the bill. You had stopped trying to fight her on it as it genuinely ruins her night. Alexia adored spoiling you and she had plenty of money to do so not that you didn’t, you were doing quite well for yourself. 
You both stumbled out of the restaurant laughing as Alexia trips over herself. As always, the gravitating pull that has always surrounded you and Alexia worked it’s magic as Alexia wrapped her strong arm around your waist and hugged you into her chest as you walked to the beach. “Can we facetime our girls tonight before they go to bed?” You asked as you stared up at her with your signature puppy eyes and Alexia couldn’t believe how alike you and Emilia were as if she wasn’t the image of Isabella. “I already gave Mapi a time mi amor.” Alexia playfully scoffed as it she couldn’t believe you would’ve thought anything else. 
Your hand traced over her built chest as you make the last turn for the beach. You find a nice spot as Alexia quickly takes off her jacket and lays it out for you to sit on. For as long as you’ve known her, she has always been the most chivalrous person in the whole word. She would be the first to hold the door open, pull out you chair and offer her hand, give you her jacket or jumper whenever so much as a chill ran up your spine. She was so atuned to your emotions you hardly had to communicate at all. 
Just like always Alexia lay down on her back, inviting you to cuddle up to her as you eagerly do so. A kiss pressed to your temple had you closing your eyes as your hand found her heartbeat. “I have a crazy idea.” Alexia sat up still holding you close, you shot her a curious look as she softly unzips your dress. You rolled your eyes amusedly, “Having sex on the beach? Yeah, like we’ve never done that before.” You husk as you make no move to stop her, all you get in response is her charming smile. You figured you’d make yourself useful as your fingers nimbly undo the buttons of her shirt.
Normally by know Alexia would have you at the brink of an orgasm but she hasn’t even made a move to kiss you. You put it down to the fascination she had with undressing you, as her eyes roamed over every inch of new skin revealed. Finally, she places a soft kiss on your neck before she’s suddenly standing, ridding herself of her the rest of her clothes until she’s standing in front of you fully bare. 
Getting the hint, you think she’s trying to send you, you get on your knees and let your nails sink into the back of her thighs as she laughs softly, “Vamos, idiota.” She pulls you up and helps you take your panties off before you too are fully naked and suddenly, she’s pulling you towards the ocean. You didn’t even hesitate to follow her, laughing like a teenager as she doesn’t even think before diving straight in. You were a little more apprehensive in your approach but as your wife resurfaced with a mischievous smile you knew you’d be under water in the matter of seconds. Her arms wrapped around you, and you were underwater immediately, laughing loudly as you resurfaced and wiped the salt from your eyes so you could softly slap her strong shoulder. 
Alexia didn’t think you could get more beautiful, but she was always proven wrong especially with how the moon reflects in your gorgeous eyes and your breath-taking smile as you threw your head back with laughter. Alexia waded over to where you were floating, “Hola.” She teased as she placed her hand on your bare hip and effortlessly hoisted you up as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her. You knocked your forehead against hers, your face was sore from smiling as you kiss her nose. Alexia’s hands trailed down your lower back until she left a teasing squeeze to your ass and left them there.
“This night was perfect. Thank you.” You whisper as you kiss her lazily, arms slithering around her neck as you card your fingers through your wet hair. “Eres perfecto, Te quiero mucho.” Alexia just had her magic ways of making you feel eternally young. Maybe because the two of you had always been in love and it just grew the more you did but you felt safe and so incredibly loved by the mother of your children and your wife. 
Her hazel eyes bared into your soul and the air was knocked out of your lungs until all you could do was convey the bleeding, life altering, urgent need for the former athlete. Nothing else was on your mind, you could barely think but you finally were able to mutter the one thing you wanted most in the world at that moment. “Take me home baby.” Alexia’s smile could in fact get wider as she started out of the water, holding you up the whole way as she kissed you feverishly. 
Only breaking away to whisper, “Cualquier cosa por ti mi alma.”
687 notes · View notes
maaarine · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Men Just Don't Trust Women -- And It's A Huge Problem (Damon Young, Huffington Post, Mar 16 2015)
"Generally speaking, we (men) do not believe things when they're told to us by women.
Well, women other than our mothers or teachers or any other woman who happens to be an established authority figure.
Do we think women are pathological liars? No.
But, does it generally take longer for us to believe something if a woman tells it to us than it would if a man told us the exact same thing? Definitely!
This conversation is how, after five months of marriage, eight months of being engaged, and another year of whatever the hell we were doing before we got engaged, I realized I don't trust my wife.
When the concept of trust is brought up, it's usually framed in the context of actions; of what we think a person is capable of doing.
If you trust someone, it means you trust them not to cheat. Or steal. Or lie. Or smother you in your sleep.
By this measure, I definitely trust my wife. I trust the shit out of her.
I also trust her opinions about important things. I trusted that she'd make a great wife, and a trust that she'll be a great mother. And I trust that her manicotti won't kill me.
But you know what I don't really trust? What I've never actually trusted with any women I've been with? Her feelings.
If she approaches me pissed about something, my first reaction is "What's wrong?"
My typical second reaction? Before she even gets the opportunity to tell me what's wrong? "She's probably overreacting."
My typical third reaction? After she expresses what's wrong? "Ok. I hear what you're saying, and I'll help. But whatever you're upset about probably really isn't that serious."
I'm both smart and sane, so I don't actually say any of this aloud. But I am often thinking it.
Until she convinces me otherwise, I assume that her emotional reaction to a situation is disproportionate to my opinion of what level of emotional reaction the situation calls for.
Basically, if she's on eight, I assume the situation is really a six.
I'm speaking of my own relationship, but I know I'm not alone. (…)
There's an obvious parallel here with the way (many) men typically regard women's feelings and the way (many) Whites typically regard the feelings of non-Whites.
It seems like every other day I'm reading about a new poll or study showing that (many) Whites don't believe anything Black people say about anything race/racism-related until they see it with their own eyes.
Personal accounts and expressions of feelings are rationalized away; only "facts" that have been carefully vetted and verified by other Whites and certain "acceptable" Blacks are to be believed.
So how do we remedy this? And can it even be remedied? I don't know.
This distrust of women's feelings is so ingrained, so commonplace that I'm not even sure we (men) realize it exists."
874 notes · View notes
anghraine · 2 months
Text
It's 11 PM, but one of my favorite little Darcy/Elizabeth moments happens while she still hates him and thinks he's a depraved monster, and I find it really entertaining.
It's during the Kent section, when Darcy calls at the parsonage and finds Elizabeth alone. During a longer, awkward conversation in which they both deeply misunderstand each other, they have this tiny interchange:
[Darcy:] “This seems a very comfortable house. Lady Catherine, I believe, did a great deal to it when Mr Collins first came to Hunsford.” “I believe she did—and I am sure she could not have bestowed her kindness on a more grateful object.” “Mr Collins appears very fortunate in his choice of a wife.” “Yes, indeed; his friends may well rejoice in his having met with one of the very few sensible women who would have accepted him, or have made him happy if they had. My friend has an excellent understanding—though I am not certain that I consider her marrying Mr Collins as the wisest thing she ever did."
So: they are in Mr Collins's house. Darcy tries to re-start the conversation with a polite nothing about the house. Elizabeth agrees about Lady Catherine's micro-managing, but can't resist the chance to make a sly jab at Mr Collins (who is not present) to Darcy (a genuine villain, as far as she believes).
Darcy's reply looks a bit like an attempt to redirect the conversation into safer waters (they can agree that Charlotte is cool!). But although his remark is only somewhat related to what Elizabeth said, I think it's a natural follow-up in his mind because he is also insulting Mr Collins, if more subtly.
He could have praised Mr Collins's judgment in choosing Charlotte or just said something nice about Charlotte; he doesn't. Instead, he suggests that Mr Collins's choice of Charlotte was a matter of good fortune—or chance, as Charlotte herself would say!—on Collins's part. Darcy and Elizabeth both know Collins is a fool and that his choice of a woman like Charlotte says nothing about his judgment, only about his good fortune. (Elizabeth has even better reason than Darcy to know how much Collins ending up with Charlotte was lucky for him, but Darcy can see it anyway.)
Darcy's phrasing gives him some plausible deniability, but I think he's generally quite careful with his wording and the implicit insult to Mr Collins is not accidental.
Elizabeth, I think, takes this exactly as intended. She's not at all confused about where this tangent came from or offended by it or anything. She readily seizes on the new line of conversation as encouragement to keep insulting Mr Collins and his appeal to women with functioning brainpower.
Elizabeth is pretty scrupulously polite in general, so I kind of love that she just starts venting about her absolute contempt for Mr Collins and the Collins/Charlotte marriage to Darcy in the middle of a tense and weird conversation in Mr Collins's house. And I love that Darcy, who is otherwise more or less dog-paddling his way through this conversation, is like "yeah, your friend seems really cool, that dumbass is lucky he accidentally chose someone with a brain."
Elizabeth: "Right? And, let me add-"
(Is it a bit of an asshole move on both their parts in the context of that scene? Yeah, I think a little. I also love it! Please trash-talk obnoxious hosts in their own parlours for the rest of your lives.)
576 notes · View notes
igotanidea · 1 month
Text
Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader
Tumblr media
A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)
part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
***
One year ago
„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”
“What irrational thoughts?”
“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”
“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—
“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”
“But-“
“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”
“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”
“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”
“There is no possibility that I-“
“Hush!”
“Mother I –“
“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.
“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”
“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”
“I will not!”
“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”
“Commitments!?”
“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”
“Mother!”
“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”
***
The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.
It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.
However-
Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.
Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.
Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.
Getting burned with the tea in response.
Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.
For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.
Next few visits were no better.
Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.
“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”
She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.
“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”
“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”
“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”
“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”
“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.
“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”
“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.
“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”
“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”
“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.
“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”
“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”
“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”
***
Dearest gentle reader,
It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.
Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 
Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.
This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.
It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.
After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.
***
Now.
“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”
Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.
“What is so funny?”
“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”
“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.
“Seem like you do after all.”
“Y/N…”
“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.
“Y/N…”
“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“
“Don’t you finish that sentence.”
“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.
At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.
Being called too much, constantly.
Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.
And then meeting Anthony.
And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.
But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.
Too much.
Not enough.
And it made her angry.
“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”
“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”
“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.
“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.
“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.
 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”
And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.
Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.
Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.
@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall
728 notes · View notes
missglaskin · 1 year
Text
Meant to be mine 
Excuse me for the horrible smut 
Tags: Soft dark!Jace OC, mentions & descriptions of parent abuse, character death (poison), childhood to lovers. EXPLICIT: Titty sucking, breeding kink (if you squint), creampie, tummy bulge (mention) Jace really taking after his parents 
Tumblr media
The dragon runs in his blood. Jace won't give you up for anything, even if your hands belong to another. 
To marry well. A constant reminder of your obligations as a lady. Prepare to be disappointed. It's rare for love to blossom in such unions. Marriage is a trade more than anything-whether it's for a shipping fleet or an ally. How foolish of you to think your fate would differ from any lady.
How you've dreamed of having your 'protected' cloak placed around your shoulder to be the sigil of a three-headed dragon. Anticipating facing the man you've known for years. Instead, your 'protected' cloak's sigil is one of a golden lion and your wedding vows are exchanged with another. 
Before the feast could begin, the doors opened, and everyone turned. Seeing the royal family ascend made your breath catch in your throat. They weren't invited. You were certain otherwise their upcoming presence would have been the talk around. Casting a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing your father's enraged face. Jakob Lannister, your newly husband, looked stunned.
Arriving with her husband Daemon by her side, Rhaenyra appears to be as gorgeous as ever. The rest of her children follow after. Your gaze is drawn to Prince Jacaerys. 
Rhaenyra greets your father first, complimenting him on how lovely the wedding seems. She raises the corner of her mouth to smile, but her eyes remain cold. Her eyes warm when she turns to face you. “My dear Y/N.”
Her hand reaches for your necklace-an embroidered lion. "You look as beautiful as ever-we were so excited to have you in the family," she says as her eyes catch your father's. "But alas, I am sure Jakob Lannister is one lucky man to have such a lovely bride."
You mutter your thanks to her as she gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. Leaving your side, her family follows her. Jace follows. His hand brushed against yours. Your eyes never leave him until your father grabs hold of your shoulder. Your father's hold grows tighter, reminding you of your position. Your duty. 
The family had no seat as no one anticipated their arrival, still the servants rushed to grab seats for them. The other lords and ladies glare at the family when they choose the table closest to yours. 
You and your husband are sitting next to one another. And you repress the urge to look over at the table. The ominous presence of your father serves as a reminder of the consequences if you dared to look. 
When the two approach your table, you try to conceal your surprise. It's Daemon and Jace. For some time, Jace and you just stare at each other in silence. Daemon nudges him to reality. "I'm happy for the two of you," Jace finally speaks with a smile that stops short of reaching his eye. 
“May your marriage be long and fruitful,” he says with almost clenched teeth. Your husband thanks him, oblivious to the tone of voice. With his hands behind his back, Daemon amusedly watches everything that was happening.
Jace looks in your direction and says, "I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to take your 'newdly' wife for a dance." Jakob nods. You wonder how gullible a man can be. Standing up and crossing over the table to accept Jace's hand. 
You hiss at him, "What are you going?" as the two of you descend the hall's steps, but he feigns innocence, "I have no clue on what you're speaking of." You join the other dancing lord and ladies. "Don't play me the fool, Jace," but when you feel your hand on his waist, your words are caught in your throat. The jerk knows what his touch does to you. 
"I'm a married woman now," you continue in a firm tone. Try to have him take this matter seriously. Yet Jace keeps looking at you with the same burning gaze. Stop looking at me like that. You wanted to tell him. Or else you'll crumble. 
His face is much closer to yours than it should be, and his hands are placed much more intimately than they should be. Your gaze turns to your father, who appears indignant over what he is witnessing. It shifts to your newly husband, who is speaking with Daemon, who has now moved to his side where your seat once was. Daemon seems to congratulate him? Is this the same man you've met before.
'Focus on me, not them,' a hand reaches for your cheek, nudging you to look at him. With his breath nearing your lips, you try to warn him, "Jace.". Eyes widening. He wouldn't do it, would he? Certainly not in front of all those people. 
He whispers, "You were meant to be mine, my wife, my sweet wife," one inch closer and his lips will touch yours. Everyone is too absorbed in their dancing, in their drinks, in their conversations to notice the intimate moment between the two of you. He was going to do it. In front of all those people. And the worst thing of it all. You won't try to stop him.
Then your father's voice booms across the court, signaling the start of the play. It was far too early; you frown. But you understood why your father had done it. The crowd starts to scatter, and it took some resistance to escape Jace's tight grip before anyone had the chance to focus on the two of you.
Upon seeing your father's rage, you hurriedly got back with your husband after tremblingly climbing the few steps. The play opens with a man who can allegedly spit fire and swallow a sword. The stunned crowd gasps, but your expression remains the same; unable to concentrate.
As per usual, your husband continues to be unaware of everything, too occupied with drinking his wine. Then it happens. Your husband starts to choke, but everyone is too preoccupied with watching the play to notice. Patting his back and trying to give him more wine, assuming he must have choked on his food.
The coughing, however, only gets worse, and soon he is spitting out the wine. Few around him begin to turn. Your husband is bending over, grasping the table. His cough grew louder and more started to notice.
He stands shakily, revealing his face. You couldn't help but shriek at the sight and now everyone's attention is on you both. His face is fully red now, and some sounds are heard, but he's unable to speak. Unable to breathe. He stumbles, knocking a few things off the table. Then he drops to the ground.
You hear Daemon shout, "Someone help him, you fools," and when guards and members of his family run to help him, you are shoved aside. Covering your mouth at the graphic and horrifying sight of Jakob trembling on the floor, grabbing at his throat, gagging, all the while trying to gasp for air. 
An arm reaches out to you, leaning you on their chest to avoid looking at the scene. Having been in his arms so often, you recognize it to be Jace. Looking up at him-you see his gaze at the sight. A blank expression on his face. No shock. No worries.
Then you hear the cries of grief—Jakob is dead. All claim to be poisoned. Many cooks and servants have been interrogated, and some hanged. Jakob Lannister had few enemies, leaving the one who caused this to remain a mystery. 
What a cruel joke the gods played on you—to marry and be a widow on the same day. You can see the pitiful looks of everyone in attendance at his funeral. And hear the murmurs when you turn away from them. The word "curse" said more than once.
The royal family was present at the funeral, as they were at the wedding. Jace is leaning against the wall with his eyes on you. He is near his great-uncle, or should you say, stepfather. Prior to your arrival, the two appeared to be speaking. Rhaenyra steps toward you, hugging and telling you what a tragedy it is, that if you need any help, Dragonstone will welcome you at any time. 
As time passed, you grew tired of having everyone's sight on you. So you leave, descending the stairs. No one stops you. No one questions where you’re going. As you make your way outside a little further, you are now walking alongside the beach, feet near the water. Holding onto your shawl as the wind blows. 
A touch is felt on your shoulder causing you to jump only to relax when turning to see seeing its Jace. There is a brief silence as the two of you stare; the longing in his eyes is still there. "You grieve for him?" he asks. In regards to the black cloth covering your shoulders. You shake your head. 
"It's custom, Jace," you say, as if it were the most obvious thing. "There's no need for that with me," tugging on your shawl, letting the wind carry it. It falls into the water and is soon lost in the depths as the waves move it back and forth.
"Jace!" You reprimand him, already annoyed at him for that show he put on at your wedding. In the early morning, before the funeral, your father screamed at you for it. Many assumed your teary eyes were you mourning. 
He grabs you as you try to move away. "You're terrified of him." He knows it's your father who opposed the marriage. Your father was a good friend of Lord Hightower, and you often heard his disdain for Rhaenyra. In some instances, you heard him even refer to Jace as "prince strong."
Despite knowing in your heart that you would have married Jace the moment he got down on one knee, you argue that it’s not just about father." Then what is it, he asks. "Jace, marrying you means one day becoming the queen," you tell him, hoping he understands. But the only response you got was an “And?” 
Your father's words are now echoing in your head and you utter them word by word to Jace. How he deserved someone far more worthy, more strong-willed, more powerful. You were neither of those. 
But Jace only shushes your words, holding your face in his hands. He speaks praises of you. How he believes you’ll make a good queen. You find it hard to believe. Then he says, "You're perfect," and it's difficult to accuse him of lying given the way he's looking at you.
He gazes at you with so much love, and before you know it. He kisses you. Oh, how you missed his lips, reaching your hands to the nape of his neck, returning his kiss with eagerness. This was wrong. But could you bring yourself to care when feeling his hands roam your body. 
His lips leave yours soft and swollen. Grabbing your hands, kissing both of your knuckles. Then placing them on his chest, "It's beating for you," he says, "Only you." You found yourself inching near him, closing your eyes when your head lay against his chest. 
You love Jace, truly love him. You love the smile he gives you when you enter the room. The way he surprises you with your favorite flowers. The way he pulls the seat out for you. The way he listens to all your rambles. The way he dries your tears. Would you have ever gotten that from Jakob or any other lord your father tries to marry you off.
On the other hand, you truly despise your father. Never understood and made an effort to learn the language of girls. So badly he wanted a son. Still, you thought you'd make him proud, being the ideal daughter, always obedient and polite. 
So when you ask your father one thing-just one thing. To marry the prince and your father threw the offer in your face. Now you can rest easy, not caring about his disappointment any longer.
"Marry me." You finally utter the words. Whispered so low, but you could tell he heard them from his hands slightly tightening their grip on your sides. Opening your eyes to face him, "Take me to Dragonstone, make me your wife, Jacaerys." And now it’s you who leans in, grazing your lips over his while gently yet firmly holding his cheeks.
Jace returns your kiss intensely, desperately moving his mouth into yours; pouring his entire soul into it. His hands are back to exploring your body, holding you to him as humanly possible. A desire runs from your heart to your inner thighs.
He pulls away and you try to reach for his lips again, but he steps back. You're slightly perplexed when he starts to remove his cloak. Moving further away from the waves, he lays the cloak on the sand. 
And the realization suddenly dawns on you. Here? Now? Even with the possibility of someone finding you. You cast your eyes over the distance where the funeral is still taking place. Still, you take Jace’s hand. Fuck it, you thought. 
Laying your back on the cloak as he climbs on top of you. Feeling his nose nudging yours, you couldn’t help but smile and he returns it, kissing your nose. You tilt your head to allow your lips to meet again. 
Then you sensed his hand reaching for the back of your dress as his fingers roughly pulled the strings holding it together. Your dress descends, revealing your shoulders to the prince. He presses a soft kiss to the skin exposed as he pulls the dress down further, barring your chest.
Your nipples harden when exposed to the cold air. Biting your lower lip at the way his eyes leer over them. No matter how many times he has seen them, he’s always entranced. With eyes closed, he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue darting out to wet the bud before sucking lightly. Gods, sometimes Jace Imagines what your breasts would look like if your belly was round with his child.
You ponder what the people of the realm would think if their future king was ever found sleeping with a widow whose husband's funeral was only a short distance away. Discovered on top of her, his mouth on her chest. 
He closes his lips around your nipple as you exhale a low moan and tilt your head back. You’ve always been so sensitive to his touch as he was to yours. Low moans also slip out of his mouth, seeming to enjoy the act. Possibly even more than you did. Jace would be content to die buried between your legs or with his face between your cleavage. Either way, it’s heaven to him. 
Pulling away, his lips graze yours, clumsily reaching his hands down to untie his trousers. Hearing him curse while struggling to loosen the tight laces makes you chuckle. Reaching to help him, an embarrassed thank you is said under his breath.
Briefly sitting on his knees to pull the trousers to his knees; cock already hard. He pulls your dress up all the way to your hip, exposing your cunt to him. As he reaches down to take hold of the top of his head, slowly pushing it inward an inch at a time, his body rests on yours once more.
Synced moans escape the two of you as his cock slides fully into you. All while, Jace presses tender kisses all over your face. His thrusts are slow, trying to get you to adjust his size. Jace grunts aloud as your walls tighten around him.
You give thanks to the gods that the two of you are far away. You see him biting his lip to contain his loud moans. Still, they can be heard throughout the chilly air. His mind goes numb the moment his cock is buried deep inside of you. 
There are all sorts of words said by him; declarations of love, but all come out slurred as if he's in a drunken haze. His face is buried in the crook of your neck. Thrusting his body, his heavy moans are heard feeling his cock surge through your hole.
His thrusts are becoming sloppy. He's close. His finger moves down,  circling your clit, wanting you to feel the same euphoria alongside him. His cock is deep enough, you can feel the head touching your cervix. 
His lip begins to bleed between his teeth. He’s close. Yet he’s holding himself back, twitching inside of you. He wants you to reach your high first. Then when he feels your walls squirming. How fucking tight you’re. Louder whimpers coming from you. He knows you’re close, too. His fingers fasten in their movements against your clit.
An almost scream erupts from you as you reach your orgasm, eyes rolling back. Removing his wet fingers, leaving your cunt to your hips. Not even moments later, Jace came. Harshly digging his fingers into your hips, you were certain any harder and it would start to bruise.
His lips parted in almost broken sobs, chanting your name as though it were a martyr. He releases a spurt of cum, stuffing your cunt to the brim. A few more thrusts and Jace's body collapses on top of yours. Both bodies drenched in sweat even in the chilly air. 
The only sounds that can be heard are Jace's chest heaving and distant wave sounds. The side of his head is resting against your chest as you run a hand through his hair. I love you. He kept saying it almost as if it were a mantra until he became too exhausted to speak. For some time, the two of you remain in this position, soaking up the silence.
When it's time for you to leave, your thighs are trembling, sticky with dried cum. The two of you try your best to present yourselves as neatly and cleanly as you can. Your hands are intertwined with Jace's as the two of you approach Daemon and Rhaenyra.
The two knew everything they needed to know from both of your swollen lips, Jace's messy hair, and the sand stuck to some of the clothes and skin. As Rhaenyra beams a friendly smile your way, Daemon muses, "I can assume she accepted the proposal." Jace catches your confused look. Were they all on this. 
When it's time for the family to depart, you climb up atop Vermax while Jace holds you fast as the dragon soars overhead. You can just imagine your father's fury, his screams of rage, and the furniture he'll probably destroy in his way. You pity the messenger who has to inform your father about the wedding.
As you soar through the air, you ignore all of your thoughts when you feel the prince's chin rest on your shoulder. With the sun behind you, the wind blowing in your faces. Jace presses his lips to yours as you turn to face him and you part ways while smiling. 
After this, Jace is truly in debt to his stepfather.
6K notes · View notes
runnning-outof-time · 7 months
Note
K, congrats again on your milestone! I'm here to request a 3 word prompt sentence--"Don't you dare" with John. That seems quite fitting for him, doesn't it? 😜 Looking forward to reading what you come up with!
Thanks for sending this in, Lee! Oh yes - this prompt absolutely does scream John! I hope you like what I did with it! Also I’m sorry the title’s a little lack-luster…I was bound to use the prompt I’m writing for it at least once though, right? Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Part of my 3.5k celebration — find other stories here!
Don’t You Dare
John Shelby x Reader
Tumblr media
Warnings: none
Word Count: 741
Summary: It’s no surprise that things have to get a little messy on John and (Y/N)’s wedding day.
Tumblr media
The night had gone off without a hitch. The ceremony was smooth, no interruptions happened before John and (Y/N) were named man and wife. Then the crowd rolled right into the reception, which was happening on the grounds of the garden they got married in. But of course, something was bound to go a little off-kilter. It just came with the Shelby name.
So when the band leader made the announcement that it was time to cut the cake, and (Y/N) took one look at John’s suspicious smirk, she worried that this might be the time.
Everyone had gathered around the newlywedded couple, who were standing beside the extravagant wedding cake that (Y/N) meticulously picked out. (Y/N) looked around at the smiling faces, glancing over to John before adressing them.
“I wanted to thank everyone for coming to celebrate with us tonight. John and I are lucky to have so many amazing people in our lives…you’ve helped make this the most special day,” she started off, smiling widely before she looked to John, hoping that he’d continue.
“Right,” he nodded, catching his wife’s drift, “we’re happy to have ya!” he added on, holding his glass up to initiate a toast. The crowd followed suit as (Y/N) shook her head, her lips pursed to hide the smile.
She waited for the noise to dull down before she spoke again: “it’s now time to cut the cake,” she announced, earning more cheers from the on-lookers.
She was given a cake cutter, John two plates, and she sent him one last smile before she went about cutting two small pieces; one to put on each plate. She set the cutter down and accepted the plate from John, feeling eager to try the cake that she’d truly been dreaming about.
“Oi! You’ve gotta feed it to each other!” Arthur’s booming voice came from the crowd before the couple was able to get any further. His exclaimation was, of course, met with many shouts of agreement.
That was when (Y/N) looked to John. She could immediately tell by the cheshire cat-like grin on his face that he was plotting something. This was not the time that she wanted things to go off-script. But with each second they looked each other, his grin grew.
“John Shelby…” she started, a warning tone laced into her voice as she raised her eyebrows at him. “Don’t you dare.”
John heard what she had to say, looked down at the cake on his plate and then rolled his eyes, his smirk still ever present as he located his older brother in the crowd. After sharing a brief glance with Arthur, he found (Y/N)’s eyes again, seeing that they were still wide and serious. “I’d never,” he told her, although his grin made her think otherwise.
“Get on with it!” Arthur yelled, obviously becoming impatient with the time they were taking. His statement made (Y/N) zero her intense gaze in on him, silently telling him to knock it off.
“Come on, baby,” John’s voice made her finally break and look back at him, and when she did, she noticed that he had already taken a small piece of the cake into his fingers.
She sent him one last ‘don’t try it’ look before mimicking him and taking a piece into her fingers as well. She held her breath and hoped for the best as they got closer to each other, close enough so that they were able to cleanly place the piece of cake into each other’s mouths. Cheers sounded off around them as they stepped back, smiling at each other.
“See? I wouldn’t try anything,” John said to her as he leaned in to press a sweet kiss to her lips.
“Yeah,” (Y/N) answered, a relieved smile now on her face. She glanced down at the remaining bit of cake that she had on her plate then, not wasting much time to grab it and smear it across John’s face. More excited cheers coursed through the crowd of onlookers as John’s jaw dropped at her actions. “I never said I wouldn’t,” she told him with a grin before leaning in to kiss the icing off of his lips.
John couldn’t do anything other than smile as (Y/N) looked back at him with a smug grin. Hey…she was a Shelby now, this should’ve been expected.
Tumblr media
Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway
MASTERLIST
577 notes · View notes
winterarmyy · 1 year
Text
Plot Twist | Part II
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky. 
Tumblr media
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra
Words: 2.5k++ (whoops, this one’s longer)
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: only soft things most of the time. bucky's 'innocent' seduction, and reader is a bit extreme when she's angry. a bit of attempted murder but we can turn a blind eye on that. otherwise, safe to read.
A/N: Thank you so much for the incredible support from the previous chapter! I thought this gonna be a flop tbh. I’m still gonna do either way, it’s for my own indulgence after all. But, now that I know lots of you are on board, I’m thrilled to take y’all along for the ride! Enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Tumblr media
“Where is she?” Bucky had been searching for his wife in the crowd, but he was left disappointed when he wasn’t able to catch not even a glimpse of her.
Steve leaned closer, “Clint said they’re on the way a few minutes ago. They should be here any second now.” He informed.
Bucky seemed dissatisfied with his answer; maybe he should’ve come home first and come this gala with her. But Steve insisted that he was already late due to the flight delay, and he should just go straight from the airport. His wife would come later her own, should be fine.
“Fine my ass.” He thought. For some reason Bucky had been restless lately. Maybe he had been away from his wife for too long. He was thinking of taking some time off from this business, perhaps finally bringing Y/N to a trip somewhere.
They didn’t spend much time together, but when they did it was well-spent. At least that’s what Bucky think. After the reception ceremony, he brought Y/N straight home. He had to catch a flight later that night. Something about having “Some contract to settle at in Italy. I’ll be back in two weeks or so.”
Y/N was still in her wedding dress when he tell her the news. He remembered her looking sombre but she didn’t complaint at all; instead she looked up to him as said, “Have a safe trip, please.” Bucky didn’t expect her to look at him so yearningly. He wondered what was she thinking when she said that.
For a moment, he thought of cancelling everything and stay in New York. Spend time with her, get to know her. But thinking back about the piles of workload he had on his back, he quickly snapped back to reality.
As Bucky was walking out, about to leave his newly wedded wife at the door; he hesitated. He paused as his gaze trained on her, what should he do? Kiss her goodbye? Hug her?
Y/N looked up with eyes filled with confusion. Did he forget something? Is there something he wanted to tell her?
Bucky himself doesn’t know what to do. “Fuck it.” So, he simply turn around and left her internal questions unanswered. Trailing closely behind Steve greeted Y/N goodbye before jogging up to Bucky.
“Who’s in charge of her?” Bucky asked as him and Steve walked towards the car. “Clint.” Steve answered right when they meet up with Clint himself at the car door. Bucky sharpen his stare as Clint opened the door for him, “Keep me posted.” He ordered.
Turning back, Bucky took one last look at her; she was still standing stood at the entrance. Gloom seemed to surround her, but he could see she was trying to put up a strong face. His eyes soften for a second as he thought, “She does look gorgeous in that dress.”
He felt bad during the trip. He doesn’t particularly know why, but his heart aches whenever he thought of his wife was standing there when the car drove farther away from the mansion. Maybe it was the look she gave him before he left. Or maybe he was just getting mellow, as Steve said.
So, he did everything he could to make it up for his absence. Jewelleries, clothes, shoes; anything expensive that he set his eyes on when he was away. That was the only thing he can do; at least the only thing he knew women liked. Prettiest things for the prettiest lady.
Alas, none of the gifts he gave her ever really made her happy. Clint said she accepted it but always in a reluctant manner.
“He didn't have to give me this...”
“I can't possibly accept this...”
“Do I really have to…”
Her behavior left Bucky beyond puzzled. He didn’t know what to do; he barely knew her. So, he went with the most generic way to make a woman happy. Though it didn't completely backfire, but he wasn’t satisfied with her response.
Until one day, a ‘revelation’ he called. A ‘sign from God’ for those who believe. He found the answer when he was in Paris, two months after he was declared as a married man. On the way to his meeting, he drove by a cute café. Its’ surrounding layout was adorned mixture of white, pink, and peach roses. A thought came up to him as he remembered a moment during his wedding reception.
  ~Flashback~
“Do you think it's possible to keep my bouquet?” Bucky heard Y/N whispered to one of the wedding planners that attend the reception. The man nodded as he explained that he can arrange the request for her. She smiled brightly and thanked the man.
Bucky watched her with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. He had to ask, “You like roses?” it was short, straight to point. The question seemed to take her by surprise, Bucky never asked useless question like this.
“I love this particular type of rose.” She answered. A soft smile brightened her pretty face. A sincere expression that Bucky rarely sees in a person anymore.
He liked that.
He wanted to see more.
Wanting to continue the innocent conversation, he asked, “There's a difference?” He quirked an eyebrow.
It seems there was a silly thought that came across her mind as she giggled, “If I tell, it will only bore you.” she said.
There was glimmer in her eyes, purposely luring him to provoke her; a powerful seduction it was indeed, he leaned closer towards her, "Prove it."
~End Flashback~
“Steve, tell Clint to arrange a bouquet for her.” Bucky said, something in his eyes lifted his expression. There was no special occasion this time. It just reminds him of her.
Steve looked over him, “The usual red roses?” he asked, as if Bucky had done it was a daily occurrence.
“No…” an unconscious smile creeped up on him, "…white majolica spray roses." He said as he recalled the way she said it.
Turns out that was the best gift amongst all he gave so far. His chest seemed to tighten and soared at the time whenever he recalled how Clint explained her reaction to it.
“The widest smile he ever saw.” Clint said.
Too bad Bucky wasn't there to see it for himself.
Bucky was woken from his daydream when he heard a commission at the other side of the hall. When he turned to his left, he didn’t see Steve anywhere, he was supposed to be there. But it didn’t take long until Steve popped up in his view.
Steve walked up to the group of where Bucky was hanging around since he arrived. He faked the sincerest smile at them, “Gentlemen.” He nodded once, before leaning closer to Bucky, “It’s Y/N.”
Upon hearing her name, Bucky didn’t waste any more of his time with the meaningless small talk and left the group. Unlikely of him to leave without a proper greeting but it’s his wife for fuck’s sake.
Bucky nearly printed, “She arrived a few minutes ago and went to grab a drink.” Steve said. His brows quirked into a deeper frown, “Unsupervised? In here?” Bucky growled. Steve knew better to leave his wife in this ‘battlefield’ alone. “No, Clint was...”
The first thought that came to him was she was in danger and that pumped a rush of adrenaline through him. But it was far from the truth. In fact, quite the opposite. When Bucky managed to slither through the crowd he ended up stopping at his track.
His wife was the center of attention; two feet in front of her was a woman, tall and blonde. An empty glass in Y/N’s hand. Red wine soaked into the silk of her dress; leaving an eye-sore of a stain on her beautiful lilac dress.
“Do you think this is funny?” there was a grit in Y/N’s voice, nothing like the gentle tone she used around Bucky.
Foolish woman she was, that blonde, believing what she did was amusing. Purposely stepping on Y/N’s dress, and when she was left unguarded the woman lifted the bottom of the glass that Y/N was holding spilling the deep red drink on her dress.
“It’s a little bit funny.” The blonde giggled gleefully. And she was out there thinking that ridiculing Y/N Barnes was a humorous joke. Unaware of how petrified the people surrounding them. No one messes with Barnes. No one.
Y/N stood tall and proud; she tried to remain unfazed by childish tricks as this. A smile curved on her lips; with a wave of her hand, a waiter came to her side and take away the empty glass from her hand before quickly retreated.
She walked gracefully towards the woman; surely the blonde was taller than her but somehow Y/N managed to make her feel like she was being looked down upon, “Oh dear…” Y/N chuckled.
Despite the light laughter from Y/N, there was a sudden change in the thickness of the atmosphere. It was much heavier, sturdier, quieter. Standing face to face, eye to eye, the dumb blonde finally realized the trouble she was in, especially with wordless superiority that Y/N was exuding.
Very much resembling Bucky’s, or perhaps the very opposite.
If Bucky’s was winter cold, hers was searing fire.
“Go ahead, laugh again. Best believe that I will shove this knife down your throat when you do.”, what a menacing gaze in those coffee-stained eyes of hers.
The woman was caught of guard when she saw a blade in Y/N’s hand. When did she got her hands on one of those? Perhaps if she was vigilant enough, she would’ve seen when Y/N pulled the knife from her thigh strap from the hidden side of her leg.
Alas she was stupidly brave to counter Y/N’s threat. “I-in front of these p-people? You wouldn’t dare.” She stumbled upon her own words.
Amused, Y/N simply smiled, “You think they would care? Look around, you fool.”
The crowd was split into two categories; those who was scared for their own life and those who wanted to see blood. But both of them doesn’t give enough of a care about the life of another foolish woman who doesn’t know her place.
Y/N was right. And the woman was deemed to meet her doom.
“Come on now, ‘it’s a little bit funny’ right?” Y/N taunted her with a wickedly innocent giggle, before charging the knife to the woman’s throat.
Y/N was expecting to feel the blade sunk into her flesh, thrilling to see blood spilled from the wound but instead, she was stopped by a grip on her wrist, pulling her away from her target, “Woah there, tiger.” She recognized this voice anywhere.
“Bucky…” she whispered his name as he pulled her closer; her back flushed against his sturdy chest, muscular arms around her waist. “Okay, okay. Easy now...” His hand grazed along her wrist up to her palm, taking away the weapon from her hand.
“That’s it. Calm down, honey. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, would we?” Bucky dipped his face to the side of her neck, whispering sweet nothings in her ear; his thumb rubbing her waist, coaxing her to submit. Y/N does not know what kind of sorcery was involved, but he managed to calm her down. She leaned further into his embrace as she place her hand top of Bucky’s.
Bucky eyed Steve, giving a signal to take care of the rest of the mess, as he gracefully lead his wife away, towards the balcony for some privacy. As soon as they step outside, the cold air breezed on the surface of her exposed skin, waking her up from the lavender haze Bucky lured her into.
Having her back facing towards Bucky, she could hear him closing the door and walking up to her. She was still pissed off about the whole ordeal, but somehow her husband still managed to sway her around to face him, “It’s just a dress, we can buy more it you want.” He coaxed with a gentle caress on her arms.
“That’s not the point.” She spat, an upset frown decorating her pretty face.
But that only soften Bucky even more, “Then?”
However, she remained silence. In fact, she doesn’t know how to say it. She just looks down at the stain on her dress, “It was a gift from you.” and yet the words left unsaid.
Bucky followed her gaze; the stain was surely prominent on the pastel dress. Dragging his eyes lower, he can see the wine dripping on exposed thighs through the slit of dress, bit by bit flowing lower towards her ankle.
He lightly push her back against the railing before going down on his knees. Wordlessly, he lifted her leg and place it on his thigh; he could feel the thin heel of her shoes digging into his skin, but he didn’t care. Y/N didn’t question any of his action, especially when he pull out a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and gently wipe the excess fluid from her skin.
“Why are you mad, doll? Tell me.” His tone was honeyed as if he was pleading, as his hands keep dapping the wetness away.
There was a few seconds of stillness before Y/N finally confessed, “It was a gift from you.”
Bucky looked up at her, “What is?” As if he didn’t notice the first time he saw it.
She sighed an exhausted breath, “This dress. It was the very first gift you’ve given me.” She sounded genuinely upset. A tiny pout was starting to form on her lips.
Deciding to play dumb, Bucky asked, “Oh, is it?” he grinned a foolish smile.
Y/N wanted to wipe that smug from his face, “I’m being serious, Buck! I—” her words were cut short as she felt Bucky’s lips on her thighs. His gaze dragged slowly from her eyes and downwards to where was planting his invisible marks. Litters of feather-like kisses, as he hands gently grip on the back of thigh and calve.
“Bucky… What are you doing?” her brain was unable to render a full thought, while he lungs seemed to forgot how process air for her to breathe.
He lifted his head up for a second, “You’re just so precious, doll...” He smiled, dipping back and planted another kiss, “…that’s all.” He mumbled against her skin.
His stubble felt too good she almost melted where she stood, “I—I’m still pissed off.” She faked her anger, hoping it will stop him from doing such intimate thing in a public place like this.
Bucky willed himself to stop, as he knew if this kept going, he might go all the way regardless of where they are, “Then, let’s get out of here. What do you think?” He placed her leg down as he stood on his feet.
The offer seemed tempting, Y/N was feeling a little bit hungry and everything in the gala was bite-sized. That’s not food. At least not in her book. Her eyes brighten to the thought of having proper meal, “Can we? But aren’t you like, an important person?” she peeked at the glass door ahead, the silhouettes of people moving around, laughing; seemed like they were enjoying the gala.
“Compared to you? Never.” There was a hint of flirtatiousness in his tone. Playful, yet flirty.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “That’s not what I meant.”
Bucky chuckled as he held out his hand, silently inviting her to an unplanned rendezvous, “Come on, sweets. Anywhere you want to go.”
<< Part I || Part III >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Tumblr media
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feel free to share your thoughts 🤍
1K notes · View notes
asoiafsworld · 1 year
Text
HEADCANON; HAVING RHAENYRA'S AND DAEMON'S CHILDREN
Tumblr media
pairings; rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader x daemon targaryen
warnings; mentions of death in childbirth, pregnancy, labor, nsfw (18+), pregnancy kink, mentions of breeding kink, degradation, praise, power play, tooth rotting fluff
author's note; i know what happens in fire & blood and in house of the dragon and i choose to strongly ignore it! i will make daemon a good father and i will make rhaenyra a happy mother so take that hbo 😒 im accepting requests btw so pls send them to me, wether if its your own ideas or a req for a hc in this series!!
first part | second part | third part | fifth part | masterlist
⊱ ───────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ───────── ⊰
➼ both yours and rhaenyra's pregnancy was going well and you both felt happy and healthy
➼ you were certainly both glowing and anyone could see how happy you both were
➼ rhaenyra and daemon were incredibly protective of you
➼ like not letting you out of their sight and making sure you weren't doing anything too dangerous
➼ also obviously you got pregnant by daemon's never ending hunger for breeding you
➼ but it's rhaenyra's child just as much as it's daemon's and she certainly shows it
➼ "i will let no man or woman near our children until they turn of age, maybe not even after that... they are just babies!"
➼ she's still convinced that you have twins and won't let anyone say otherwise about it
➼ and it makes your heart clench to hear that she claims your children as her own and you do the same
➼ you lay on your bed with her, your head on her bump, listening for kicks from the little one
➼ "oh, i heard something! i think it's talking to me! i can't wait to hold you in my arms, my little dragon."
➼ rhaenyra and daemon are so endeared by the nickname you have given to her child
➼ overall you take care a lot of her during the pregnancy since she is two months further than you are
➼ make sure she eats and drinks enough, are there for her when she feels sick, read to her when she wants to fall asleep but can't
➼ give her so many kisses on her swollen belly and she swears that it makes her feel better, especially when it's direct skin on skin contact
➼ she gets horny easily during pregnancy so she might just get wet from those kisses
➼ and you're her needy slut at her service so when she demands you to eat your queen out you do it without question
➼ which leads to daemon walking in on both of you and watching you with hunger as you are at your queen's mercy
➼ technically rhaenyra is at her weakest during her pregnancy and can't physically command you to do anything for her
➼ but it just shows how much power she holds over you and she loves it
➼ you are also just very submissive for her and would drop on your knees whenever and wherever she asks for it
➼ but as i said daemon walks in and he can't resist it and toys with you just as he always does
➼ shoves your face closer to rhaenyra's pussy and keeps a hand on the back of your head
➼ "you're a hungry little pup, hm? want to please your queen so badly, you can never resist her... you filthy little bitch."
➼ you moan into your wife's cunt and it doesn't take long for her to release all over your face and you gladly drink it up
➼ and then daemon splits you open on his cock because of course he does
➼ but you don't realize how much it turns him on to fuck you when you're pregnant until he does
➼ he keeps holding a hand to your stomach as he fucks into you and kisses your neck as you whine and whimper at the way he keeps hitting your deepest spots
➼ "so beautiful and round, you see how fast i got you pregnant, my love? everyone who sees you pregnant knows that i breed you like the stupid whore you are, that you are and will forever be mine to fuck and claim. my pretty little toy thing, just for me to use. i will breed you so many times and get you pregnant so much until the entirety of dragonstone is filled with our children, until i decide that i'm satisfied... and i will never, ever be satisfied with you. i will fuck you until my last breath."
➼ your eyes roll back into your skull, crying from how good you feel and you're delirious at his words, wishing he could get you pregnant again as soon as possible after you give birth
➼ your head is on rhaenyra's breasts as you get fucked and she smiles at you as if there was a sweet moment between you and daemon happening
➼ she was going through your hair with her hand and kissed you a few times, it was so gentle that it felt like a whiplash with daemon's unrelenting hard thrusts
➼ eventually he came inside you and was very proud of himself for it
➼ "i fucked you so hard, i'm sure you're pregnant again."
➼ "daemon... that is not how it works, you silly dragon!"
➼ when rhaenyra goes into labor you are right beside her, holding her hand and telling her that it will be alright and that she had done this five times before, she could do it again
➼ seeing her in this state terrified you a little because it's what you would go through in just a few weeks but you knew that you would be fine because rhaenyra would be by your side too, holding your hand tightly
➼ rhaenyra tried to send you away because seeing her might upset you in your state but you didn't listen to her, only kept telling her to hold on and to push
➼ eventually she gave birth to a healthy and strong baby, finally a girl
➼ she asked you if you liked the name visenya and you agreed on it although you were confused why she asked you
➼ "it's yours just as much as mine. i already asked daemon and he wanted visenya too but i want you to have a say in these things because they are your children as well, just like yours are already mine."
➼ it touched you to hear this and you give her the most loving kiss ever
➼ rhaenyra holds visenya in her arms and she's such an adorable little thing, looking around so curiously
➼ rhaenyra falls asleep quickly after the birth from exhaustion and in that time, you take little visenya into your arms
➼ "so you're my little dragon, hm, visenya? you look just like your mother, the same eyes and same nose... but i fear you got your rather large forehead from your father."
➼ daemon walks in at that moment, having been out flying with caraxes and immediately made his way back when he was told that rhaenyra was in labor
➼ "i heard that!"
➼ you only giggle at his fake hurt exclamation and his heart blooms when he hears you so happy so he can't say anything about it
➼ you place visenya in his arms and his face lights up the moment she looks at him
➼ "she's a cute little girl. look at her tiny nose! looks just like her mother."
➼ the kids start to come in to see the child and all coo over their baby sister
➼ jace takes her into his arms and keeps telling her how he's going to be the best big brother and teach her how to wield a sword and to take care of her dragon
➼ syrax was constantly churning out dragon eggs so you and jace chose one for little visenya from the many that were available
➼ you went with a white scaled dragon egg and it was placed in her crib with her from her first night, just like with her mother
➼ the following few weeks between visenya's birth and your labor were calm and peaceful and all three of you took a lot of care of visenya
➼ even though rhaenyra kept telling you to rest since you didn't have much left until your little one was coming
➼ but again, visenya was your child too and the urge to see her and take care of her was just as strong as rhaenyra's
➼ but before long, your labor was starting and you were incredibly scared
➼ one of your sister's, the one that reminded you of baela a lot, had died in childbirth which is why it was fearful for you to go through this
➼ and obviously it wasn't just you scared of it
➼ both rhaenyra and daemon's mothers had died in childbirth as well so everytime, it was a challenge and fear to go through this
➼ but they were constantly by your side through the entire labor, holding each of your hands and reassuring you that you would be fine
➼ they were partially saying that to keep themselves calm too because they wouldn't know what to do if they lost you too
➼ rhaenyra was constantly kissing your forehead and telling you that you were doing well for her and that she couldn't wait to see your little dragons
➼ you gave birth to your son and he came out squealing and crying loudly
➼ but the midwife told you to keep pushing because the maestar had been right, you did have twins!
➼ your daughter was born shortly after and your babies were both as healthy and happy as they come and you were okay as well, just tired from labor
➼ after they were cleaned up they were each put in your husband and wife's arms since you were too weak to hold them
➼ they came as close as possible to you with them and you smiled, unbelieving that you had born two living and breathing creatures
➼ daemon had your little girl in his arms and rhaenyra your son, both doting and cooing at them
➼ "i knew i was right. i could feel that there were two of our little dragons inside you."
➼ you roll your eyes at rhaenyra's insistence and watched her give a little kiss to your son's forhead
➼ you chose rhaegar for your son and alysanne for your daughter, two traditional targaryen names and your husband and wife both loved them
➼ they had told you that you didn't need to necessarily give them valyrian names and could choose from your own house as well
➼ "no, my family doesn't mean much to me. my children will be targaryen by name and blood, they will ride dragons and should bear their ancestors names."
➼ rhaenyra and daemon were so happy to hear that and were glad that you knew how important their valyrian ancestry will be
➼ the kids come flooding in and take their time to hold the children as well
➼ you had given baela and rhaena the task of choosing eggs for their siblings and they were happy to show them to you
➼ your son, rhaegar got a light blue scaled egg and your daughter, alysanne received a purple scaled egg, both put in the cribs with the children
➼ rhaenyra, daemon and you were mostly happy that your pregnancies were over since the danger was always big but you were so lucky with the three little new ones
➼ their cribs were in one room together because you all agreed to have them grow up as siblings
➼ rhaenyra however didn't let the wet nurse touch visenya, rhaegar or alysanne just like she didn't let anyone else still her sons before
➼ she stilled not only visenya but rhaegar and alysanne too because they were her little babies too after all
➼ you were familiar with this feeling but rhaenyra was not familiar with having children that were not her blood so breastfeeding them was her way of bonding herself with them
➼ you thought it was so cute that she wanted to do this for you and you of course did the same for visenya and she was just as happy about it
➼ so both of you sat in the nursery taking turns to feed your children and after that made sure to cuddle them closely and give them all the love in the world
➼ daemon came to the nursery a lot with you, sometimes he just took one of the babies and held them close to remind himself that he had helped create these beautiful little humans
➼ he tells the children tales of his adventures and tells them that they will never experience doing such dangerous things because their father was daemon targaryen, an insanely overprotective husband and father
➼ he seems to especially love alysanne a lot who keeps gurgling at him and trying to reach up to his face
➼ the smile he has on his face is so sweet when he holds her, it's visible that he's endlessly proud of her and loves her
➼ the other children come sneaking into the nursery too, thinking that no one would see them but all three of you know about it
➼ jace and luke are very much in love with rhaegar who was a strong and big baby
➼ they always tell him that he will be a great dragon rider one day and that they will be great big brothers
➼ joffrey seems to love alysanne a lot, always wanting to look at her closely since he can't hold her yet
➼ "my little sister, you will be the best swordswoman in the seven kingdoms! i'll teach you everything you need to know!"
➼ plays peek a boo with little alysanne and she absolutely loves it, always giggling when joffrey plays with her
➼ baela and rhaena look after visenya a lot and you know that it means a lot to them to have younger sisters now
➼ you know that baela is especially taken with her since she knows that she'll be a mother soon as well and you know that she will be a good one with the way she treats and holds visenya
➼ overall you love your huge patchwork family and would give anything for them and hope that you will be happy forever with them
2K notes · View notes
Text
Peaches- Oberyn Martell x f!reader
Tumblr media
Main Masterlist | Prompt Fill Masterlist
Prompt #955- “It may look pretty, but the crown made her head ache and she couldn’t wait to get back to her rooms to remove it.”
Pairing: Oberyn Martell x f!reader 
Summary: an AU where Oberyn must take a wife, so he travels all of Westeros in search of one. He’s finally found one that he thinks he might like. You. 
Rating: M for Mature (my entire blog is 18+)
Word Count: 1199
Warnings: implied smut, oberyn is a slutty menace, drugs/poison referenced. reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed.
Author’s Notes: I absolutely did not stay within my self imposed time limit. i just could not make this man shut the fuck up. This one might be one that i am interested in expanding into a full fic- maybe a mini series?
Oberyn sits in the great hall of the castle of someone, in the region of somewhere , eating his fill of fruit and drinking wine as fast as it can be poured. He truly cannot keep up anymore. He has been on this tour for close to a year now. In search of a wife he does not want, to ascend to a throne he has no desire to sit in. His eyes scan the room as he waits for the only woman to catch his interest in many months. Sure, he’d taken plenty of the others in his bed, but this one has a fire in her eyes that burns right through to his bones. A fire that lends him to believe that she would be accepting of Oberyn’s paramour, Ellaria. More than any of the other ladies who threw themselves at the chance to marry the Prince of Dorne. 
Doran’s failing health, and the tragic death of his only son in infancy, necessitate such dealings. Elia would have been next in line for the throne, had she and her children not been brutally slaughtered by the Lannister’s thug. Ser Gregor Clegane, also known as The Mountain. The way that he brutalized poor Aegon and Rhaenys in front of the mother, before violating Elia and taking her life as well, is an injustice that Oberyn won’t soon forget. He will enact the justice that has eluded the cowardly Lions of Casterly Rock for far too long. The lion may still have its claws, but The Red Viper has his fangs. 
More than once, Oberyn’s gaze flickers towards the high table, where the object of his desire sits. Where you sit. You laugh merrily with the other guests, nearly keeping up with Oberyn’s own wine consumption. Your eyes lock with his, just as he takes a bite of a peach. His fingers are wrapped gently around the fruit, so as not to bruise it. But, without breaking eye contact, he sinks his teeth in like a man who hasn’t eaten in days. Nectar runs out of both corners of his mouth and down the exposed skin of his neck and throat. His tongue darts out of his mouth like the serpent for which he was named. He runs it slowly over both of his plush lips, lapping up the sticky sweetness that has escaped. He doesn’t bother to check if anyone may be looking before tossing you a wink and going in for another bite. 
Suddenly, it’s as if all of the air has been sucked out of the room. Heat radiates from your core and rushes to your face. You feel your undergarments sticking to your skin, sticky with your arousal. You stand from your seat and waver slightly as your knees begin to wobble. Your handmaiden, even attentive, rushes to your side and steadies you.
“My lady! Are you well?” 
“I’m fine, Emilya. I think I need to be excused for a moment.” 
“Should I accompany you, my lady?”
“No, no. I will be alright.” you assure her. “Please excuse me for a moment. The wine seems to have gone straight to my head.” You announce to the table. Your presence is barely acknowledged aside from your sister. The two of you have a wordless exchange, with only your eyes and slight nods of your heads. A skill perfected as children under the watchful gazes of your Septa. She hated chatter and was quick with the switch when annoyed. 
Each step you climb your breath is harder to catch. The bloody corset is strangling you. You suck in air in short pants and are becoming dizzier the closer you get to your chamber doors. You should have allowed Emilya to accompany you. How are you supposed to get this thing off by yourself?
Just as you reach your hand out for the heavy gold handle, a voice calls out softly from behind you. “My lady, please, allow me to help you.” You attempt to suck in a gasp at the voice that drips with honey in your ear. 
“Prince Oberyn, I am afraid that would not be appropriate.” you protest. Even though you can hardly breathe, you are struck by the freckles flecked on the smooth, golden skin of his chest. “If you would be so kind, would you fetch my handmaiden, Emilya?” Before he has the chance to answer, your vision goes black and you feel the stones under your feet crumble away. 
When you come to, you are laid upon the chaise in your front room. You gasp when you spy the Prince of Dorne standing over you with a wicked blade in his hands. You recoil and realization flashes through his eyes. He stashes the blade somewhere on his person, in a flash of movement too quick for you to catch. 
“Forgive me, my lady. I vow to you that I intend you no harm." He holds his hands in front of him, palms up, so that you may see that he is unarmed. “I had to relieve you of that dreadful corset, it was stealing the life from you in front of my very eyes.” you notice that your dress and corset have been sliced, from the dip of your breast to your waist, exposing your naked chest to him. 
“Do not worry. There was no poison. On that one.” 
Oddly, you don’t feel the need to cover yourself. He looks at you with the same hunger that he had in his eyes when he feasted on that peach. You wonder if he would gorge himself on you in the same manner. As if he could read your thoughts, more likely your face gave you away, he holds his hand out to you. “Would you like me to help you to bed?” he asks, nodding his head in the direction of your bedchambers. The heavy wooden door would muffle any noises that should try to escape. 
“I would be delighted, my Prince.” you take his hand and lead him across the room, peeling off the tattered remains of your outerclothes. “We must be quick,” you warn, “lest anyone come looking for us.” 
“Are you worried about your servants spying on us, my lady? Do you not inspire loyalty in your people?” 
“It’s not the servants I’m concerned with. It’s my husband.” Your husband, the lord of this castle, had hosted this feast in hopes of making a marriage match for your sister. You push open the door of your bedchamber and Oberyn wraps his arms around you. He speaks softly directly into your ear. 
“Do not worry yourself with such things, my sweet. He and I shared a drink just before I left the great hall. I can assure you, your lord is sleeping quite peacefully in his own chambers by now.” a horrified look crosses your face and Oberyn laughs heartily. “I can promise you that he will wake up tomorrow without so much as a headache.” he laughs once more. “Unless, you wish it otherwise, my lady.” 
In the morning, Oberyn is gone. All that you have to remind you of him is the ache in your cunt and the whisper of his kiss.
137 notes · View notes
Note
Building off of someone else's ask, consider in the HoM au: Yuu asks the hyenas for advice on wooing Ruggie.
Alright alright so I think Miss Yuu would get on really well with the hyenas (honestly, all you need to do is respect them, be nice to them and give them food). Personally, she is the closest to Ed since he seems to be such a sweetheart (also he's voiced by Winnie the Pooh) and he just lives for her affection and headpats but Shenzi likes her because girlboss recognises girlboss. Honestly Yuu and the hyenas share the top spot for my favourite Yuu and henchmen friendship along with Diablo.
When it becomes apparent that there are little seeds of romance blossoming between Ruggie (their honorary cackle member) and the prefect (the only person they actually like), the trio make it their life mission to get the two together.
I don't know much about hyenas but I do know that whilst females are the dominant gender, that are more aggressive and make all the rules, the males are the ones that do the pursuing until the female accepts them. Banzai and Ed would just encourage Ruggie to do typical male courtship behaviour (I've heard that during courting, a male would do the approach-avoid method of just follow the female around like a lost duckling and that is absolutely adorable and if the hyenas catch Ruggie doing that he'll never hear the end of it) whilst Shenzi's advice to Miss Yuu would be 'the kid likes you, tell him you like him back otherwise we'll be here for years'. Since Ruggie has a lot of respect (and fear) for Shenzi, her telling him to do something would only come as a last case scenario where Yuu's obliviousness was getting them nowhere.
Also this has nothing to do with the ask I just want to rant about hyenas and one of my Yuus (that I ship with Ruggie) below the cut:
So a while back I had a cute animal video phase where I binged a bunch of videos of people who either had pet hyenas or looked after hyenas and that birthed the idea of a Yuu who's a huge hyena lover and has a pet hyena back in her world. Like, after watching videos of adorable hyena cubs I understand why Harley Quinn has two of them because those babies are adorable 🥰
I recently watched Thalapathy Vijay's movie 'Leo' where he saves/fights a grown hyena that he later looks after and trains as a guard (who then goes full on beast mode - whilst hyena cackling - on a bad guy that comes into the protagonist's house and holds a gun on his wife and daughter) and I was like yeah, why can't I have a Yuu that has a hyena that's basically the Rajah to her Jasmine? She deserves scary hyena privileges (I do have a backstory about those two this is just how it came to be)
And once the portal between the two worlds has been made, Ruggie and Yuu's baby/best friend from her world are constantly at odds with each other because they're both super protective male hyenas that love Yuu (one platonically and one romantically) and are jealous of the attention that the other gets.
And then I thought: what if we house of mouse!au it and have the hyena trio meet Yuu's furry friend and now Yuu is just surrounded by a cackle bunch of hyenas and 😍
116 notes · View notes
haru-natsuka · 5 months
Text
My Love (Malleus Draconia x Wife Reader)
Genre: Angst
Tumblr media
Atatakana yuri kago
hoshi no hikari yorokobi yo
ima mo mitsumeta hitomi tomo nii you
osorezu yume kara samete mo
Nemureya nemure ii toshigoyo
Omae ga doka yume no naka
michibiku
hikari e to
Ayumu youni
A melancholic song filled the still silence of the night as the moonlight illuminated the lonely individual. Singing an old lullaby, she held her newborn child in her arms and expressed her deep affection for her little one through the melody. She attempted to keep singing but felt her throat begin to tire, even though she did not want to take a break to drink water for every minute mattered.
The mistress hoped that her son would understand how much she loved him by the way she sang for him. She wanted him to remember her with every note of the song, even if it was only a faint memory in his heart. She loved her son with every fiber of her being and did not want him to forget it, even if her own time was running out.
Her infant remained asleep in her arms, which made her smile with happiness. The smell of the baby made her continue to shower it with love and affection, showering him with kisses and cherishing him. She already did care for him since he existed in the world and never stop giving out her love and power for him as for a dragon egg to hatch, it needs the love and power from its parents the most. If only his father was not the King of Briar Valley, they could love happily together.
Atatakana yuri kago
hoshi no hikari yorokobi yo
ima mo mitsumeta hitomi tomo nii you-
Her singing came to a halt as the voice of the opening door echoed through the halls, alerting her to Malleus's presence. It was time to say goodbye, the mistress, unfortunately, had no choice in the matter. The separation of mother and child was too cruel to fathom, but Malleus did not care for her feelings. Even as she begged, he paid her no mind, because, in his eyes, she was not Yuu. The mistress knew that the cruel fate that awaited her would come to pass, and she would be separated forever from her dear son.
The mistress felt her tears falling down her cheeks, no matter how hard she tried to conceal them. She held her baby boy closer and hugged him tighter, not wanting the moment to come where she would bid him goodbye. The mistress understood that a child required the love and affection of both parents, and that she was the mother of her baby.
"It is time," she heard Malleus's warning words coming from behind her. She was too afraid to turn around or face him, for she was determined to keep her baby boy hidden and out of his sight. But deep down, she knew this wasn't possible, and that she would eventually have to come to terms with this separation and say her farewells. She knew that the moment she'd been avoiding for so long was upon her, and yet, she could not find the strength to accept it.
The mistress replied, "Please, let me just have a day more with him. He just came into this world, and he is my little child. We created him together, and I want to have that time with him."
However, in response to her plea, Malleus coldly retorted, "My heir is not yours. Yuu is the rightful mother. She is my wife, not you.” The mistress was stunned once more, realizing that she would not be able to convince Malleus otherwise. He maintained his cold glare on her. She was never deemed as his wife, Yuu was. It was true that the mistress had only given birth, but Yuu was the chosen one and her marriage with her husband was only for an heir for the fae legacy.
"Being stubborn will lead you nowhere," Malleus said angrily, as he tried to snatch the baby from her. The mistress continued her futile struggle to keep her child to herself, but felt herself failing as Malleus's grip on her arms grew tighter. It was a losing battle, and she knew that there was no other choice but to let her baby son fall into Yuu's hands.
“Then, just for a while. One minute more”
With a kiss to her son's forehead, she casted her unique spell, hoping to preserve his memory of the rhymes she had sung to him every night. For this song was one that was sung to a child from their mother, and it was something that she wanted to preserve his memory of, so he would have that part of her forever. Now that she was to be separated from her son, this song and memory would remain with him forever, always there to comfort him and remind him of her and their time together.
“I never care when you married me without love. I never care when you want to get rid of me but for this sinless child, give him all you got”
A warm cradle
Starlight and the happiness
Even now I will be by your side as we look at each other
Don’t be afraid even if you wake up from the dreams
Sleep, sleep, my beloved child
In dreams, I pray you would be guided to walk toward the light
156 notes · View notes
Text
𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒
Tagging: @augustwithquills , @bloody-mf-bsc
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by freddycarter1, benbarnes, vancityreynolds and 5,897,655 others
Y/N Y/L/N: This man unsettles me. Why the hell do you smile at me like a proud kid looking at his mom for praise?
We filmed the most gut-wrenching, soul-wrecking traumatic scene for your character.
You just know what you will be doing to the fans. You know their pain, and enjoy it and they are gonna come after you for therapy bills. Hope you are rich.
View 657,564 comments
User5: Freddy is just a sneaky cat. That's it. That's my comment.
User7: I don't wanna know the scene... yet again I have a guess .
User9: There is water... And Kaz's trauma includes water... We are, guys, once again...
User6: doomed. As usual.
User4: It's usual at this point, like I can't go on with my day without at least one tiny bit of drama
User3: Once again, mother Y/N is right. We all hope you are rich ASF Freddy.
freddycarter1: I could make Y/N pay for them?? She is the reason you guys cry
Y/N Y/L/N: don't bring me into this, Freddy. It's your fault, you have to deal with it. Or... I can tell your wife that you are bullying me😎
freddycarter1: you wouldn't dare! My wife loves me!
Y/N Y/L/N: Maybe... Not as much as me tho😉
User12: the way Y/N doesn't just conquer the women cast members' hearts but the male cast's wives as well...
User5: Teach us where this rizz comes from Y/N!
User6: Just Y/N and Ben casually making us fall in love with them
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1, amita_suman, jessie_mei_li and 6,573,435 others
Y/N Y/L/N: More memes!
1. Freddy is my one true love, and more attentive and mature and cares more about me.( this is definetly not my amazing,handsome, attentive and bullied boyfriend whom I should pay more attention to.)
2. This is what I was talking about! Look at hım and tell me you wouldn't immediately accept whatever mindblowing War crime he wants to commit together?
3. The only surprise element here is that I paid for the tickets... Even if they were the ones who went to to cinema.
View 566,564 comments
User1: Ben is being a gremlin again by taking her phone... Again.
Y/N Y/L/N: See? Everyone else is very mad at you benbarnes 😒
User5: Y/N show some love to poor boi 😭
User9: Ben is struggling so much djsjsh
User8: he is like a puppy following her around dnjd Have you seen the BTS of shadow and bone? He is always looming behind her and looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse 🥹🤭
User4: We love men who respects and shows his love openly to their lover😎
User6: Istg they want me to put a toast in the tub and live there like that by how cute they are being... look at her giggles and wide smile through her Insta posts after they got together and say otherwise
User9: They really are the best for each other and they are so cute, so supportive of each other and you can also see the Ben's grin is wider and shinier too!
User14: Being the "sugar mommy" of them is Y/N's fate now...
freddycarter1: I didn't hear any complaints from her.
User2: She has all the tittles now, the only one missing is... The Milf 💫
User14: That could change at any moment and we wouldn't know...
User3: 😳
Y/N Y/L/N: First all, no one can be like me... Or else you would be in constant hunger because you two can't cook to save your lives.
benbarnes: my cooking isn't that bad... Right?
Y/N Y/L/N: Could have been worse.
User6: Y/N does he use that kicked puppy eyes on you too?
Y/N Y/L/N: Whenever he wants kisses... Which means all the time. But I have no complaints, I love kissing hım.
User6: So it works?
Y/N Y/L/N: It works wonders.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by benbarnes, freddycarter1,zendaya and 6,899,790 others
Y/N Y/L/N: Not my fault that they are living moods
1: Me, when they show me the most shocking, spectacular,eye-burning, gut-wrenching,soul-wrecking, traumatic script ever
2. Also me, whenever I look at my boys. And yes, though I always say I hate them here, I love them all so much. I'd probably commit arson for them if they asked but... Yeah.
3. Yes, you saw it right. He took my phone again 😑Like,why do you have your's if you always use mine?
View 678,768 comments
freddycarter1: does that script include us??
Y/N Y/L/N: I don't know...😳🤐
jacktwolfe: I say we give her candy she loves so she can't resist and then take the script and run away when she isn't looking 😊
Y/N Y/L/N: Jack what the fuck? Get out of your Wylan head.
User5: I'M BEGGING IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR, Y/N HAVE MERCY ON OUR SOULS😭
User8: indeed, we finally saw that she had a heart and It's full of love for the boys too... Just not as much as the women
freddycarter1: mind you, this is the best thing that had ever been told to me... I STILL prefer Ben tho
Y/N Y/L/N: All my hardwork was for nothing... But legit anyways, I'd choose my baby too
User5: does it ever bother how Freddy is just you in another font, Y/N?
Y/N Y/L/N: He can do all he wants... I'm the only one who sees Ben in... different light🤭
User6: HOLY SMOKES-
User9: Y/N just casually dropping hints on their private life is just... Golden djsndbdv
User1: Fr she and Freddy are fighting for Ben's hand jddjjd
User7: Considering the rest of the books and knowing all the scenes by heart now... And adding Y/N cinematography...
User1: we're doomed.
User6: Will go and make a confession to the local church now, for the person I'll become when that happens
Y/N Y/L/N: Calahan is keeping me in a headlock so that I would backdown from my heart-tearing plans... I HAVE YOUR PICTURES WITH A TIARA AND TUTUS, FREDDY AND CALAHAN! Don't make me share them
User5: Poor Y/N... Keep doing it Calahan, just a few more minutes, I live close to her. I can just grab that script and run away
freddycarter1: benbarnes please leash your chihuahua of a girlfriend before we spoil your plans
Y/N Y/L/N: what surprise? Ben is planning something behind my back?? benbarnes, what do you have to defend yourself? 🤨
benbarnes: I will kill you when I'm done running from my girlfriend, Carter...
Y/NandBen.fanpage: GUYS GUYS GUYS, I THINK IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING OMG-
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liked by benbarnes, shadowandbone, amita_suman, jessie_mei_li, blakelively, tchalamet and 9,896,798 others
Y/N Y/L/N: GUESS WHO IS BECOMING A BARNES?🤭
Oh, and @ user3? You are a Seer, that's for sure. Thank you for calling dibs on our marriage, lovie!
And to everyone who always said we were cheaters: İt must SUCK to be with yall because you don't trust your lovers! 😎🫳🎤
View 998,789 comments
benbarnes: You are so beautiful, my ex-girlfriend...
Y/N Y/L/N: Stop saying that, idiot... And, oh... I am beautiful? 🥹🤭
User6: OMG CRYING, SHITTING TEARS WTF THIS IS SO CUTE DJDJSJS
User9: Y/N and Ben are both melting for each other and OMG I'm crying too 🥹
User5: for a fact, I just know that these two cried and still is crying tons while cuddling and reading our messages
Y/N Y/L/N: Do you have cameras in our house??
User7: SOMEONE MAKE SURE USER3 IS ALIVE BECAUSE GOD KNOWS I WOULDN'T BE IF BEN AND Y/N MENTIONED ME
User3: I'M INDEED NOT OKAY I'M ALIVE BUT BARELY BREATHING WTF I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS
User6: YOU ARE LIVING OUR DREAMS!! *shake shoulder harshly* HOW DOES IT FEEL LIKE TO BE THE IT GIRL?!
User8: Someone keep that fucking hater away from here or else there will be millions, including celebrities, who will throw hands!
User2: I think they will not be here because if mother Y/N dissed me like that, I would have found a hole and never get out.
User5: When I tell you I am at my granny's funeral and trying so hard to control my giggles... THE FIGHT IS REAL
User8: We have a holy knight here, hang in there sis! We still need to see their wedding photos!
User10: what's even funnier is that "Ben Barnes I hope you can fight" tag is trending in Twitter lol
blakelively: look at that excited smile! Finally, you are joining the married life! Welcome to club 🤭
User4: Today folks, we all can rest in peace for we achieved what we always wanted for 3 years 😌
amita_suman: beautiful people ❤️ Love you both so much!
freddycarter1: Does that mean we call her Barnes too?
jessie_mei_li: Yes, since they are the mom and dad 😒 Is that even a question?
kittheyounger: we are all united under one holy flag: The Barnes' Holy Kingdom
User15: After 3 years, Ben Barnes finally put that ring on her finger. A day to celebrate for years to come indeed.
tchalamet: Congrats to my favourite director!
Y/N Y/L/N: Don't let Greta hear that Ti 😉
tchalamet: she would say the exact same
User17: DAYUMN THAT RING IS THE SAME SIZE AS MY HEAD HOW RICH ARE YOU BEN?!
User16: Just like that, we achieved it. Now, there is one last thing needed: A mini Ben-Y/N
194 notes · View notes
goldingwrites · 1 month
Text
after hours (chapter 14)
Tumblr media
⯈ previous chapter: chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five - chapter six - chapter seven - chapter eight - interlude - chapter nine - chapter 10 - chapter 11 - chapter 12 - chapter 13
⯈ pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x female!reader
⯈ summary: the nights in Gotham are always unforgiving, you, you strip for money, to feed your son and to forget some of your troubles. it’s easy, it’s simple until Vengeance appears in your night.
⯈ rating: mature.
⯈ tw: stripping, violence (description of physical abuse), blood, angst
⯈ chapter word count: 8k
⯈ note:  and we are back! yes on V-day, yes, you get an update, no I have not forgotten about this fic, this fic is my baby okay? I got some more ideas for the plot and I'm not liming the chapters to 8k so yes, there will be more ❤️❤️❤️
You don’t know if it’s the bat signal in Gotham’s night skyline or the fact that it is technically a weeknight, but the club is mostly empty when you find the main stage.
You can see it from up there, in fact, from your spot, you can see everything and you’re in full display for all the customers. At the very least, the few customers that are here.
Too many empty seats, and too few full glasses, it is a slow night. You don’t mind and you’re not about to complain: whether the establishment is packed or empty, it’s all the same to you.
You only have one job to do and it’s to dance, dance, and dance some more. 
You do, as soon as the music starts, as soon as you lock eyes with the DJ, you wrap your right arm around the metallic bar and your body is in command next. You turn off your brain, embracing the music, the hungry looks, and everything that’s not supposed to make you feel right.
What would be the alternative otherwise?
Thinking about Vengeance, out there, fighting the good fight, doing the only thing he knows how to do. No correction, the only thing he was meant to do all along. Were you made to be on that stage? Night after night? Song after song? That thought crosses your mind but you choose to ignore it. There is no such thing as fate, you should know about that by now.
Sometimes, life is shitty, a bad thing is just a bad thing and the only good thing to do is to get up and keep going.
Nothing more, nothing less.
And he’s coming back to you.
Bruce. 
Vengeance.
They’re both coming back to you. You know this, you don’t have to worry.
The hours do drag and in between dances, you accept the cigarette one of the other dancers hands you. Backstage there is some sort of chatter and the smoke is being swallowed by your blond wig but you don’t care. Your eyes do linger on your colleague and you frown when you realize you have not seen Natasha those past few days. Is she trying to keep a low profile ever since she helped you out of the Island? That would be the smart thing to do, after all, she seemed to be pretty close to Domino and the whole affair. You make a mental note to ask Bruce later and you come back to it when one of the newest dancers hands you a piece of gum. She wants to use your cherry blossom lipstick and you let her.
You only get to do one private dance that whole evening and the guy is chatty.
He talks about his wife, his kid, and how his daughter is his entire world while you twirl and move against him and if you want to be mad, you can’t. You get some pictures as you find his lap and you grind against him. She’s cute, you mumble, glancing at the picture of a little girl. The more awake part of your mind wonders what the fuck is this guy doing. If he has a wife, if he has a kid, if he has a stable job, stable enough to hand you three hundred fucking dollars after this, why is he here? 
This makes you feel tired beyond reason, the way men don’t make any sense (you’d know, your heart is entangled in a ridiculous mess caused by two sides of the same man after all), and you’re glad when you see the clock announcing five am. Time to go home. You use the makeup wipes quickly and efficiently on your face and you slip back into normality. With your black mini skirt and matching sweater, Bruce’s leather jacket on your shoulders is still too big but it’s comforting. Bag over your shoulder, you push the back doors open, heading out with two other girls. They are talking about the next night, hoping it won’t be as quiet otherwise it’ll be bad for business.
“Next thing you know, they’re gonna start firing some of us,” one of the girls says with a sigh.
“They can’t, they need us, where else are Gotham’s deviants supposed to go?” replies the other woman with an easy laugh.
Oh, I don’t know, you want to say, I know a place.
But talking about the Island out loud is risky, you don’t want to expose more of yourself, more than you do with this job anyway and you did tell Bruce you would keep his secret. And Vengeance’s as well.
“Hey, sweetie, you want a split a taxi with us?” the first girl is talking to you, and just as you’re about to answer, your eyes land on a familiar Bentley.
Waiting for you.
“Hmm... no thank you, I have my ride, but maybe next time?” You simply decline and you wait until both of the dancers are in the taxi before you make your way to the expensive car with a sigh. 
You don’t want to fight, you do want to talk and you were sincere earlier, you do miss Bruce, so you’re resolving this, one way or another. It’s going to be a very long morning you gather and you’re not even surprised when Orlando, Bruce’s chauffeur, steps out of the vehicle to open the door for you.
“Long night?” he asks you with a smile.
“You have no idea,” you whisper before sliding into the back seat. 
For once, you’re glad to see Orlando, ironic considering that was one of the main reasons you and Bruce did have that fight. You don’t dwell on it and against the leather, you close your eyes for a little while, listening to the engine of the car working away and your breathing. 
Missing Bruce is one thing, wanting to be with him is another altogether, can you two put everything aside and find a way out? You want to, this is the most serious relationship you’ve ever been in and you don’t want to pass on that. Not because of Bruce’s secret, not because of the money and everything he can offer and do for you... simply because you care. 
You care about him and you chose to stay by his side. You chose to help Vengeance, just like you chose to make Bruce such a big part of your life.
You see it, just as the car slows down, there is no going back now. 
You thank Orlando with a whisper when he opens the door for you and it’s easy to go into the building, greet the person at the desk, and even easier to enter the elevator. You know the way, you know the motions, you’ve already done this a hundred times. Parts of you wonder where Alfred is as the elevator doors slide open, he’s probably asleep. Or, knowing the older man, he’s already out for his morning run and getting ready for the day, that wouldn’t surprise you.
There’s no sign of Bruce as you make your way into the semi-darkness of his home but it’s okay, you know the way to his bedroom and when finally, you make out the sound of water rustling, you realize he is probably taking a much-needed shower. After a night in Gotham’s streets as Vengeance, you can not blame him.
There’s light in his bedroom and you push the door. The one leading to his bathroom is opened but you let him have this moment. You remove his jacket from your shoulders, and your shoes and after a brief moment of hesitation, you remove your clothes too. You only keep your underwear on; the set you're wearing is purple, nothing fancy, nothing you would wear on stage and it’s enough to slip underneath the cover and wait for Bruce. You’re facing the large window, mind still racing and if you don’t see him, you do hear him.
The shower does stop, Bruce steps out, grabs a towel, opens to door to go to his bed, and then there's a brief moment of silence.
“There you are,” you hear him whisper and a small smile does appear on your features.
The bed creaks, there’s a shift in weight and some air against your legs as he joins you underneath the covers, and then, there's one strong arm over your small waist and he pulls you in. Bruce hums, his lips are on your neck and you shiver. Partly because of the pressure his lips apply, partly because he is still wet from the shower. You turn your head, to meet the icy blue of eyes and his smile.
“There I am,” you repeat, slowly, one of your hands finds the black locks, Bruce’s hair, pulling him to you but also keeping you here and examining him. His lower lip is broken and the beginning of a black eye is forming there, on his face, over his right eye. 
“Busy night?” you finally ask, wondering and still worried about him. You know, you have zero chance of persuading him to stop, to keep Vengeance away, it’s not possible, not in those conditions and certainly not now, but you need to make sure he is okay. That they are both okay, if you don’t, who will? You’re one of the two people in the entirety of Gotham aware of his secret, aware of his burden.
“I managed,” Bruce replies, somewhat dryly. “Later, we’ll talk about it later.”
“No talking now then?”
“None.”
It’s the last actual word any of you utter for a while. Next thing you know, Bruce’s mouth is crashed against yours and he’s using his hands to turn you over completely, so you’re laying on your stomach. You let him do so, he’s asking with his hands as much as he is asking with the kisses he’s trailing on the back of your neck, on your shoulders, on your spine... He's tracing it next, making you arch against every single one of his ministrations, as you chase the pressure his lips are applying.
You’re a fool, that’s what’s echoing into your mind as Bruce unhooks and removes your bra. A complete and utter fool, thinking you could survive without this, without precisely this, without him. Without Bruce’s hands all over you, his mouth on your skin, bringing some sort of fire and making your heart race so fast... so fast, if this wasn’t heaven, you’d think you would have died.
But you’re not dead, of course not, Bruce is already naked and hard against you, pressed against your lower back and you shift your hips against him, the tiniest of moans escaping your lips as you urge him to do it. As you plead for him to just find his space inside of you and wreck you. You need it, you crave it, it’s as basic as water, it’s more necessary than air and if you don’t have him, you’ll explode or combust, something of that nature, you are one hundred percent certain of it.
The very logic leaves you when Bruce removes your last piece of clothing, pushing the underwear past your ankle and you’re moaning a single word, a single yes, as he spreads your legs apart, moving one of your knees up. He pauses, you know he can see the whole of you at this precise angle and you’re not ashamed. Far from it, you turn your head and neck as best as you can to have a glimpse of him. Of Bruce, naked, drops of water rolling on his abs and his shoulders, of Bruce more than hard, holding himself. You lick your lips, you can’t help it and it’s all he needs to push into you next.
You moan, your head falling into the next pillow and all you can do is react. As Bruce is sinking into you with one fluid move, it’s been a while, and yet, it all comes back to you, in full force, as he’s inside of you, pressing his chest to your back, his forehead against your curls. His breathing is labored, but he still moves the next instant, pushing in and out of you, his thrusts are hard and sharp, a bit desperate and you moan Bruce’s name next. One of his hands finds your hips holding, tight, so tight you know you’ll have a mark, just like the one on his face. His other hand covers yours, fingers intertwined together as you try to remember to breathe, to remember anything that’s not him.
It’s impossible with him towering above you, Bruce inside of you, moving and moving. It’s a mess, that’s what it is, and each shift of his hips as you move into the bed, up, because he’s using his real strength, not holding back. It’s been some time but you want it, all of it. Because you did miss him, you did miss this, precisely this and you want him to know he can always have you like this, always take you like this, always break you, build you up, and break you again.
Sounds fill up the room, Bruce’s grunting, your moans, the particular echo of your bodies meeting again and again. He’s in your neck the next second and you see stars, or a glimpse of ones as he buries inside of your folds next, and instead of pulling out, he just shifts his hips, rutting inside of you and staying close. It feels so good, it has never been this good you gather. You’re proven wrong by Bruce and Bruce only, he presses his forehead against your right shoulder, and manages to sneak one hand underneath you, past your stomach and down.
“Oh god, Bruce, fuck, yes... I...” You scream, louder than ever, quivering and shivering against him as his fingers are rubbing against a particular spot, where you need it the most. It’s too much, you’re close, so close you can taste it in your mouth, and that’s where Bruce’s tongue finds you, as he hotly kisses you.
That’s all it takes.
You’re safe, protected, underneath him, cared for, full of him, that’s all it takes for you to shatter and to come. How could you not? Underneath him, surrounded by Bruce and the sounds he makes, stretched apart by him and being kissed by him. You tremble as you come, squeezing all around him, doing your best to kiss him back, despite the air missing from your lungs. It’s too good, so good your mind goes blank for a while, and yet, you feel it, you feel his hips still moving and Bruce follows you a few seconds later, coming too.
...
It takes a lot to come back from that haze and you only do so when Bruce pulls out of you, another whine escapes your lips, almost like an involuntary reflex, and then he rolls you over. Bruce kisses you: your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your chin as you smile, still feeling a bit too slow and tired from your release.
“We could use another shower, both of us.”
“Agreed,” you whisper against his lips and you offer no protest as you’re in his arms the next moment, as he carries you to his bathroom.
The shower you both take is somehow quick and slow at the same time. Bruce is going through the motions: holding you, grabbing the soap, washing you, cleaning you, and the only thing you do is close your eyes and appreciate the attention. You missed this, you realize as his fingers are somehow ghosting and dancing on your skin as he rubs the soap against every single inch of your skin. Yes, even in between your legs, and he lets the water run through you to make sure you’re completely clean.
You watch him switching to shampoo to try to tame your curls even though you’re both aware that it’s a lost cause. You’ll do that later, it’s not important; for now, you smile as he rinses you, his mouth trailing kisses on your neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It is in your world, the one you share with Bruce and you only open your eyes as he stops the water.
It’s kind of a wake-up call and you nod, following him. He already has a warm towel ready for you and you thank him with a smile, drying up. He leads the way to his bedroom and you watch him make the bed, changing the sheets for fresh and clean ones as you dry yourself more thoroughly than you would have in any normal circumstances. Your clothes have been neatly folded near the bedside lamp and instead of wearing them, you favor something inside of Bruce’s closet. One of his shirts, a deep blue one, it’s too big for you, it stops mid-thighs and it’s been ironed recently, it covers your skin and it’s comfortable. When you come back, Bruce is sitting on the edge of his bed, staring up at you.
“Want some coffee?” he offers.
“I’m okay, believe it or not, what we just did is a better way to wake up.”
“You’re talking about the shower, right?” His tone is playful and the smirk on his face is a familiar one. Bruce is making sure the mood is not too heavy and you let him, you straddle him with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Of course, Mister Wayne, I’m talking about the shower, nothing else, of course,” you reply mimicking his tone and with a smile, Bruce switches your position, pressing you into the mattress and the fresh bedding. He kisses you slowly, you can’t help it, you’re already closing your eyes and kissing him back with the same intent. You gasp as his mouth is in your neck once more, you know it is his favorite spot, but even he knows you can’t be distracted, there’s that big talk you’re supposed to have. That’s the only reason why he pauses, why he pulls away from your neck, going back up, blue eyes anchored into one.
“You know I meant what I said to you yesterday, at the school, I’m sorry.”
“I know you did and... okay if we’re talking, you can’t be on top of me... or between my legs for that matter, come on.”
You won't be able to focus otherwise and with another shift of your hips, you urge him to get off you. Bruce resumes his previous sitting position, this time, you’re sitting right next to him, and your right knee is pressed against his left one and you hold his hand nodding. You stare at your fingers intertwined together for a long minute, the difference between his palm and yours: his hand is bigger, with deeper lines and some scars, he uses those hands at night to beat up lowlifes as much as he does to make you come.
That should scare you, however, it’s the opposite, it has always been the opposite. When Bruce, when Vengeance is concerned? It’s always the opposite, you should be running away from the vigilante, you should be asking more of the billionaire, the Prince of Gotham, but it has always been the opposite.
“You can’t have Orlando or Alfred... or anyone follow me for that matter,” you finally speak again, breaking the newfound silence between you two.
“Okay,” mumbles Bruce, and without looking up at him, you know the word alone, and everything that it carries, is costing him a lot. “I can agree to that during the day, but when you go to the club when you’re working...” 
“You can have Orlando waiting for me outside, like you did tonight, but that’s it, everything else will be bad for business and scare away the customers... and I need to make a living Bruce,” you interrupt, with more intent this time.
Bruce sighs, you feel it and you look up, resting your head on his shoulder next. He’s not looking down at you, Bruce is deep in thought, staring into the distance, and finally, he nods.
“What about... your job at the deli, isn’t it enough?” You can tell, by the way, his face hardens as he asks the question, that he’s been wanting to ask that particular one for a long time.
“Sadly enough, it’s not to clothe, feed, and take care of three people. And it’s boring... I know it’s difficult to understand, but I like my job at the club, and it’s good money. More than good money.”
This time, Bruce looks at you, turning his head in your direction and your eyes meet. He is slightly frowning and you can tell, once more, that something doesn’t sit well with him. Some people probably assume he’s hard to read, but you know by now, you can analyze and understand every single breath, every single frown. Just like right now, his eyebrows are almost together, almost, there’s still a little worry line between them. It disappears as Bruce speaks again next.
“Would you consider another job, another day-paying job if it paid more? If you could afford to take care of everyone, your mother and...” Bruce does smiles as he names your son, his fondness for the boy more than visible and apparent. “Would you consider it?”
“Well... Like I said, I like my job at the club, and no other job would come as close as that. In terms of money. But, since we’re talking and making concessions... yeah, I could consider it.”
That’s not a lie and you’re not putting away the dancer in you. You understand that Bruce doesn’t like it, as your boyfriend, the thought of other men staring and touching what he considers his can not be appealing. And as Vengeance? Knowing that half of the people in that place are not innocent? It must be pure torture.
However, he also has to see your point of view. Everybody else in that club, watching you, gazing upon you, brushing against you? It’s just noise, in your mind, you’re the sole focus, you and that stage, you and your moves and it’s honestly the best kind of therapy and the only one you can afford. You know you’re good at it, and you revel in that knowledge, just like you leave everything in that stage: the bad days, the shitty existential dread, the fact that someone has knocked you up and pretended to love you, the fact that you are all alone... well was all alone, Bruce is here now, you suppose the last statement doesn’t apply anymore.
“How about a trial period?” Bruce suggests it, pulling you out of your thoughts once more.
“Meaning?” You urge him to explain himself by squeezing his hand tighter.
“Three... Okay, two weeks, where you don’t go to the club, where you don’t... you don’t dance or strip for money and you try out a new job. A new well-paying job,” Bruce explains it slowly and he’s lucky he’s cute because you’re already onto him.
“You’re only suggesting that because you already have a job lined up for me.”
“Maybe.”
“Bruce,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t maybe me. Get to the point.”
“Yes, sorry, I have something in mind.” He pauses just to press a kiss to your forehead. “The orphanage is going to be opened and running from tomorrow and onwards, with children, teachers, doctors, and so on...”
“Bruce, I don’t even have a proper degree, hell, I didn’t even graduate high school.”
“I know, I’m not suggesting you teach anything to anyone or to put you in the nurse's office but we need someone to man the front desk.”
“As in?”
“Answer calls, direct people the right way, coordinate everyone’s agenda, plan meetings... you could do that, right?”
“I...” 
There’s a hesitation, coming from you and you have to let go of Bruce completely to think. You let yourself fall back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Bruce is talking about a good honest job, surrounded by people, people whose only mission is to take care and improve children’s lives. You’re good with children, well at least, you’re a good mother, and working as a waitress in the past and now at the deli, hell, even at the club, has taught you how to fake a smile and how to make everyone and anyone happy. You could do this.
But it would be a big departure from the club.
More responsible, more adult, and also boring.
Just as something at the back of your mind screams that, Bruce appears in your line of view, leaning and biting his lower lip. Probably thinking that you’ll never agree to this. But you have to, right? This is your chance, your way out of the darkness, a conventional job, something you can do, it’s not like the club was meant to be forever, right? 
“I...” You take a deep breath. “Okay.”
“Okay?” repeats Bruce and he watches as you grab his shoulder and stand up, going back to your sitting position.
“Yes, but let’s make the trial period a month, so it’s fair and I can compare salary, okay?”
“I... yeah, okay, of course!”
“But on one condition, Bruce...”
“Which is?” 
“I want to know everything when Vengeance is concerned. And I do mean everything, if I’m doing this, you have to be honest with me, which includes telling me when it gets bad, horrible, even if you think I can’t hear it... hell, especially if you think I can not hear it, okay?” 
There it is, concession and compromises, you think, parts of you are a bit sad and somehow scared of asking him this. But you don’t want any secrets between the two of you, you know being him, with Bruce, means being with Vengeance too. That’s not something you want to ignore and not something you take lightly, quite the opposite. 
Bruce sighs, he does and for a moment, he’s not looking at you but down at his feet. You’re expecting a no because he wants to protect you or some noble and bullshit reason. You certainly don’t expect what happens next, Bruce looking up at you, with a new smile and nodding.
“Okay, I can agree to that.”
And this, you think, leaning into his space to meet his lips, is better than the rest.
***
You’re more dressed as you step outside of Bruce’s bedroom. You borrow a pair of pants from Bruce as well as one of his silk bathrobes, black of course, but you’re glad for the few extra layers.
Alfred does offer you a smile as you enter the kitchen and he’s already giving you a cup of coffee before you even think of asking. He made it just like you take it and you watch as they both exchange a look with each other and simply nod.
Bruce leads the way back to the elevator, except, you realize a second later, that you’re not going outside, you’re not headed to the garage but lower, much, much lower. Even though the Wayne has pressed a button with the word basement next to it, as soon as the doors slide open, you know it’s not a basement. You’re underground, that much is certain, you gather as the cold air hits your face, your warm coffee mug is more than welcome as you slowly and surely step into Vengeance’s lair.
Because it has to be Vengeance’s right?
It’s much different from the night Bruce almost died you realize, that night when he was stabbed seems so faint and distant in insight and your eyes do automatically fall on the hundreds of screens and the feedback playing on it. Gotham, you realize, it’s the streets of Gotham, that Vengeance is watching on a loop.
Not only that but there’s also a computer, probably more powerful than any computer you’ve come across, and an array of machines, buzzing and snapping, that you can’t name. Bruce pulls a chair for you and you watch as Alfred picks up a specific pile of documents.
And then, the explanation begins.
You roll your eyes when Alfred produces a picture of Vincent, his full name is Vincent David White apparently and he’s been placed in a secure location and is watched by the Gotham Police Department until further notice.
“They haven’t made his arrest official yet,” explains Alfred as you hand him back the picture.
“We don’t want his disappearance to be noticed... yet,” adds Bruce, as he’s pacing in front of the screens, clearly in thought. “We have a plan, but for that, we need to secure a dead body matching his build... and officially, Vincent will be dead.”
“Won’t that attract attention, though?” you hear yourself asking, and while Alfred is nodding, Bruce has a slight smirk on his face.
“Yes, but I’d rather Vincent’s boss thinks he is dead than in police custody.”
“Vincent’s boss... you mean Domino, right?”
An alias, you’re sure of that as you utter it out loud and you watch as both Alfred and Bruce nod once more. Bruce then hands you some more pictures of The Island, the entrance, the exit, and people going in and out of that street. He’s been in contact with Natasha: she’s only been undercover for a few months but what goes on at the Island has been happening for years. Even before The Penguin and his club. Even before Falcone and his deals in the city. They do everything and anything in that place and it’s only recently that it has popped under the radar.
“Because of me,” Bruce adds, drily.
He has his arms folded over his chest, looking away in the distance, with a cold expression on his face.
“You mean Vengeance,” you correct quickly.
“Yes. What happened with the Riddler, all of that... it’s forced some people into hiding and others to make mistakes and... yes.”
“I’m guessing you want to shut down that place then?” You don’t even know why you’re asking the question, it’s the next logical thing, the next best thing to do, to make sure there is less corruption in Gotham. To make sure the streets are safe. Because that’s the problem in a city like this, and probably what Vengeance has realized, one head is cut off and two others pop up. He needs to go to the source of the problem and he needs to burn the roots, you gather with a sad smile on your face.
“Not just shut down, stop any traffic, make sure they don’t relocate where it’s convenient actually, and... yeah,” Bruce ends his sentence with a sigh.
“We need proof, and unfortunately for us, most people in that place that we’ve seen so far don’t seem to have a criminal record,” explains Alfred as you nod. “So we need to catch them in the act, doing something so incriminating, they’ll end up in jail, them and their associates.”
“... That’s why Natasha is undercover then, she’s probably trying to figure out the best way to do that. And the best day for the police to barge in,” you mumble, thinking out loud.
“Yes,” confirms Bruce. “And even though she reckons no one in the police department is in on this, it’s still hard, there can be no mistake.” 
“So then... when does Vengeance come in?”
There is a pause in the conversation, as you ask that final question and you watch, as Bruce and Alfred exchange another long look. You can tell they’ve been struggling with the same question for a while. Because Bruce, well Vengeance, is only one person, if he goes near that place, surely, they’ll change their habits or worse, relocate or make everything disappear. 
“Honestly? I don’t know yet, but I’d like to be useful,” answers Bruce moments later.
He shrugs, turning to the camera feed and while he watches the streets of Gotham, the very ones he swore to protect, you watch the line of his shoulders for a few seconds. He is tensed, before turning to Alfred.
The mask won’t help in this particular instance, you both know that.
Does Bruce know that?
You think you won’t like the answer to that particular question. 
***
As per your discussion with Bruce, two days later, you’re in front of the Wayne Orphanage. And you sigh as you stare at the imposing building, brand new and completely different in the daylight, without any flash of the paparazzi, the questions, the pretty dress, and Bruce by your side.
He did ask you if you needed back up and that’s one thing you immediately refused. It’s bad enough you’re dating Bruce Wayne and that he is finding you a job, you don’t need him to drop you off on your first day, in his very expensive car, wearing a very expensive suit. You did take a cab and now you need to stop chewing on your bottom lip and just get inside.
Ironically, telling your other boss, at the club, that you were taking a break from it all had been easy. He gave you two answers to that: a laugh and a simple You’ll be back, girls like you are always back.
Girls like you?
What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
You’re not the same girl you were when you started working at the club, that’s for sure, and you’re here to give normal life a proper chance, you did tell Bruce that you would try, and for him? You’re willing to do anything.
You sigh and look down at your choice of outfit: you’re daunting Bruce’s favorite color once more, black leather pants, plant shirt, black platform heels, your makeup is light, your curls tamed into a tight bun that took way too long to do, and again, Bruce’s jacket over your shoulder.
You nod and after tightening your grip on your bag, you go inside.
You’re expected for 9 am and you’re fifteen minutes early, you know, you’ve timed it perfectly, you’ve even dropped your son off to school with your mother. You saw the new security in place in school, apparently, the principal has been following Bruce’s suggestions to the letter, probably to avoid getting into more trouble with the Wayne. The most important thing is still the hug the little boy has given you. Wishing you a good day and to break a leg at your new job.
You recall his smile and his joyful expression as you step into the building.
Again, very different in the daylight. The lobby is massive, probably bigger than your apartment and you can make out children laughing, running, and talking in the background. You don’t get distracted by that or the various hallways leading to different rooms, you head to the front desk.
The older woman, Velma according to her name tag, on the other side of the desk, is squinting at a computer screen, her glasses pushed way down her nose, you’re surprised they have not fallen off. She’s older than your mother, there is some gray in her hair and she’s wearing those cardigans you usually associate with English teachers.
You clear your throat and that’s enough for Velma to turn to you.
“Oh hi... Sorry lovely, I didn’t see you here, how can I help you?”
“I’m here for my first day actually,” you explain before giving her your name.
Velma seems to be delighted to see you once she understands who you are, you’ve been expected, she moves away from the desk and hugs you, calling you too skinny for your own good, before she leads the way, to the staff area.
“You’re young, that’s good,” comments Velma as she leads the way. “We need someone young, I was just filling in... I teach to the little ones you see? How to read, write, that sort of thing... I’m not good at a desk, but I’m sure you’ll do great!”
“I’ll try.”
That’s all you can muster out loud, really, you’ll try, for Bruce, for his peace of mind, to see if you can keep a job that doesn’t have insane hours or require you to take some of your clothes off. Velma has already decided you’re more than qualified and that’s comforting.
The first hours are nothing more than formalities: signing this and that, getting a locker, and a name badge, understanding where and when to take your break, and where the nearest fire exits are. No one is expecting you to be responsible for the children, someone else will do that. 
“Any experience with the little ones?” Velma asks as she leads the way back to the front office.
“Oh no, well yes I suppose, I’m a mother.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so sooner, do you have pictures?”
“Honestly? So many...”
Velma wants to see them of course and you nod and smile as you pull out your phone from the back pocket of your pants, you unlock it easily and you show her your son.
“He’s my little guy,” you introduce him with a smile, you have tons of pictures, and you might not spend every single minute with the little boy, however, he is the only thing worth taking a picture, in your opinion at least.
“Aw he’s sweet, so it’s just you then?”
Just as Velma asks that last question, you scroll to the last series of shots, it’s not just your son with you or your mother, it’s a picture of your son and Bruce. The little boy is in the Wayne’s arms, they’re deep in conversation in the picture, the boy ranting about a movie you had just watched and Bruce looking at him with clear fondness in his eyes. Neither of them is aware that you took the picture, you did capture a perfect moment and the picture is a good reminder. Of why you’re here and why today is so important.
“Well, his dad is out of the picture if that’s what you’re asking but...”
“But you’re dating Mister Wayne!” Velma loudly interrupts with another sort of smile, she eyes you up and down next, as if she was just seeing you for the first time all over again. “I knew your face was familiar... I’ve seen it in the papers!”
“Yeah well... don’t believe everything you read,” you say dryly.
“Don’t worry lovely, you don’t look like a gold digger to me, and besides, people need someone to project their nasty thoughts upon, don’t take it personally. It’s all just noise.”
Velma squeezes your hand by the end of her sentence and the smile you give her next is more sincere than the previous ones. You like her way of thinking and seeing things, besides, you know the nature of your relationship with Bruce, why he makes you happy and completes you in a way no other person has ever done. 
“Come on, let’s get you to work!”
Velma spends the better part of the morning and the afternoon explaining to you the job and giving you access to the computer and everything you need. You will be a receptionist, answering the phone, accepting deliveries, and so on. You’ll interact with the children and the teachers and you’ll be expected to deliver messages and coordinate timetables for meetings. You nod, taking some notes for the first time in a long time... You enjoy the stream of information and when finally, after lunch, Velma leaves you alone, you take a deep breath.
You know you can do this.
You want to do this, you have to at least give it your all.
That particular afternoon is uneventful, you copy a few forms for some of the teachers and you meet the resident nurse. There are some phone calls, mostly from telemarketers and others to confirm your opening hours, for food deliveries, and more mundane details. 
Your day ends at 5 pm, not a second before, and in the staff room, Velma congratulates you on your very first day. She’s supportive, you don’t mind honestly and you go home the same way you arrived, in a taxi. 
After you leave the orphanage, you pretty much go through the motions. Picking up your son, summarizing your first day and what you can and can not do, you even show up your name badge to the little boy and you know, he is proud of you just by the smile he has on his young face. Your mother has some words for you as you prepare dinner, so glad to see you get serious and settle down and you simply hum, your mind still drifting.
You’re not even fazed or surprised when there is a knock on the door moments later, it’s Bruce, he’s joining you for dinner. He wants to know how everything went down and you give him the same summary. In front of Bruce, the smile on your face is a little bit more forced, the sound a bit more chipper, and if he sees through it, in front of your son and your mother? The Wayne doesn’t say anything, he just nods and pulls you into a hug.
Dinner is lovely of course, your son takes up most of the conversation talking about what he learned in school that particular day, his new assignment, and what he’s hoping to do when the week-end finally arrives. Bruce suggests another trip to the park, you make the argument that you could do something else than flying kites and you settle to go to the Gotham Zoo, this upcoming Saturday. It’s a solid plan, normal and plain and you tell the two boys you’ll check the weather just in case it’s not the best for the zoo.
Bruce wants to help clear the table but your mother insists that he just relaxes, that’s not him though, he helps you with the dishes and it’s only after a full minute of having the water running that you realize that he’s asked you a question.
“Sorry...” you mumble quickly, “can you repeat that?”
“Are you okay?” Bruce asks you the new question, icy blue eyes into yours and you consider telling him the truth.
That despite Velma’s warm welcome, the safe environment, the name badge, the locker, the children's smiles, and doing something good... You know yourself. You already know, that after one day, you’re not suited for the job.
You were right, it is boring, it’s miles away from a night at the club, it’s up and downs: regulars drinking too much and begging for a free dance, people who just got paid and want to go all out, men looking at you with hunger in their eyes as if they know you’re a forbidden fruit... Is it weird that you need that to function? To consider a place a good job or not?
Does it make you broken beyond repair that you just... miss it? 
It’s just been one day, it wouldn’t be fair to Bruce to admit this, and you did tell him, promised him you would give this a fair shot.
“Yeah, I... I’m just more tired than I thought? Different rhythm, you know?” You finally reply, and it’s not a complete lie, you are exhausted and you know you could use a warm shower and eight hours of sleep.
“Of course.” Bruce nods and presses one hand to your shoulder. “It was your first day, the stress of a new job and everything... we can call it an early night and I’ll see you over the weekend anyway, right?”
“Right.”
Bruce leaves with a quick hug for everybody else and a tight long one for you. Which you sorely need, you hang on to it longer than you intended to, feeling guilty for lying and praying that somehow, you can become the woman he sees and loves.
Somehow.
***
You don’t sleep.
You want to, honestly; you do the reasonable thing after putting your son to bed, you have a nice long shower, you comb your hair, you have some chamomile to help you sleep and as you tuck yourself into bed, you put your phone on silent.
At 9 pm.
And you don’t sleep.
You drift in and out of consciousness a few times, and it’s not even because of the noise of the TV that your mother always blasts as she falls asleep. It’s distant, you’re used to it. You simply can not rest, you simply can not close your eyes and let your body reset.
Nope.
Right now, you would be getting ready for the club. Hailing a taxi, being in the dressing room, exchanging wigs and lipstick with the other girls, and just... being, in your familiar space, where you know how to act, how to stand, and... everything comes easily.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
That’s your only thought as you finally leave your bed at 6 am, you might as well get ready right? You have another long shower, get dressed, and apply some heavy foundation to your pores (no one needs to know that sleep is evading you) and you wait as the rest of your household wakes up. It’s the same morning all over again, except that this time, you don’t pause in front of the imposing building that is the Wayne Orphanage, you know what to do, you know where to head, and even when you pass Velma, by her locker, she congratulates you on being early.
You swing by the cafeteria to grab some coffee and some sweet treats to sit at your desk. And just like the day before, you go through the motions. Nothing eventful happens, you see some of the children as you pass the courtyard after signing for a delivery, and a few little girls comment on your curly hair and earn themselves a smile. But it’s just like the day before.
You move again around 11 am, you have to head to the kitchen, to hand out some forms to the workers there. Something, signature, something, that’s what the email said, and you’re not here to understand, but just to do your job.
Your platforms announce you before you appear actually and you’re arriving before the lunch rush, people are moving, yelling at each other, it’s mostly guys you realize and nobody pays attention to you. You shrug.
“I’ll just leave this here and you guys can grab one on your way out, okay?”
One of the cooks acknowledge you and you can see him mouthing thank you and that’s your work done.
Time to head back to your desk and pray another email is waiting for you with another task to keep you busy for the rest of the day, or another phone call, or...
Your name.
Someone says it, calls for you and it’s the only reason why you pause and spin around, figuring one of the cooks needs help with said form, you still have your smile on as you face the man who just accosted you, he must have read your name badge, that’s what it’s for.
Except that, the smile doesn’t stay on too long.
It disappears, and your heart starts racing next as you simply freeze on the spot. Your eyes focus on a too-familiar face. He’s a bit skinnier than you remember him to be, but it’s the same black long hair, it’s tied in a bun and underneath a net at the moment, it's the same cheekbones, the same nose, the same brown eyes.
They are not filled with hate, anger, or something as deadly now, his fists aren’t clenched, and he doesn’t look like he’s about to murder you. If anything, he looks surprised, standing here, in his kitchen uniform, apron in place, gloves over his hands.
“Marvin?” 
Once again, after years of trying to forget, you utter his name and he nods, with a sigh while your mind is screaming for you to leave, to leave immediately, before he finds a reason to hurt you and destroy everything you’ve built.
Because there’s no mistaking it, you think as Marvin repeats your name, like he’s trying it to for size or like he forgot, this isn’t a dream, he’s really in front of you.
Him.
The father of your child.
74 notes · View notes
cobiehill · 2 years
Text
Is Your Husband Home?
pairing: milf!wandamaximoff x femalebabysitter!reader
warnings: 18+ top!wanda, mommy kink, praise kink, fingering, slight use of powers, alcohol mention, age gap, wanda is a milf! (reader is 18+) minors dni!!
w/c: 1525
summary: wanda doesn't wait for her husband to leave before having her way with reader
Tumblr media
masterlist
You’d been babysitting the twins at the Maximoff residence for just over two years now. Unbeknownst to the twin’s father, you’d been quietly seeing Wanda after a drunken encounter a couple of weeks back.
Although Wanda had always been very forward and flirty towards you, it was still a new, and quite scary territory for you.
Especially since she had insisted on still leaving fleeting touches and cheek kisses on you while Vision was still in  the house. Sometimes even in the room.
He was sweet, and painfully naive, and you couldn’t fight off the feeling of guilt when he’d talk so highly of you or state that you were practically part of the family.
Wanda would beam and pull you into her side.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.” she’d reply, cool and confident as ever.
It was late August, and you’d just managed to put the boys down to bed, when you headed down the stairs and were promptly greeted by the couple.
“You’re home early” you commented, smiling as you looked between the pair. Vision busied himself instantly, gathering his laptop and heading towards the kitchen counter. Wanda stayed put, her eyes fixed on your frame.
“Indeed we are” Vision responded “I hope you don’t mind. We’ll pay you for the full time, of course.”
“It’s no bother” You assured, and Wanda smirked, inching herself closer towards you.
“Date night got cut short” She said in a low voice, throwing her gaze over to her husband, who was already in his own little world, engrossed in his screen. “Vis had a call…emergency reports to be done, or whatever”.
She looked a little pissed off, but that was short lived as she turned to face you, taking your hands into her own.
“Why don’t you keep me company for a little while? Your shift isn’t over yet.” her tone was sweet, however the look in her eyes said otherwise.
“Great idea darling!” Vision chirped, blissfully unaware of the ideas his wife had in mind for you.
Twenty minutes later you found yourself in their brand new hot tub, having borrowed one of Wanda’s swimsuits. The sun had begun to set and you watched Wanda finish off the last of her wine, the remaining light from the sun bouncing off her features. She looked radiant, and you found yourself staring, still rendered speechless by how beautiful she looked despite having known her for so long. Once the glass had been put down, she redirected her attention towards you.
“You look so pretty in my clothes.” she stated, her eyes raking you up and down. 
You weren’t sure you could class her skimpy two piece you were wearing as clothes, however you accepted her compliment gratefully. She didn’t miss the way your cheeks darkened, a sense of pride overcoming her.
“I was thinking about you all night” she added quietly, her hand coming to rest on your knee under the water while her thumbs brushed over the skin. 
You jolted at the small touch, eyes shooting back over towards the house, where you could see Vision through the window, sat at the counter in the dimly lit room. Wanda followed your gaze with a dry laugh.
“Don’t worry about him darling” she whispered, her hand beginning to trail up your thigh “He’ll be working for hours.”
You gave an unsure nod as you felt her fingertips come into contact with your underwear.
“Are you sure we should be doing this right now?” You questioned.
Wanda looked at you as though you’d asked her the most ridiculous question in the world.
Instead of an immediate response, you felt her fingers toy around, adding pressure to your clit beneath the fabric.
You did want to, and Wanda knew that.
“Just keep quiet” her voice was barely a whisper “You can do that for mommy, right?”
The heat between your legs intensified and you nodded. This felt wrong, but you soon missed the feeling of her as she guided you by your shoulders so that you had your back facing the house. She took her place beside you, a sickly smirk appearing on her face.
“Use your words, you can do it.” she urged, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You squirmed under her gaze. A look of adoration and hunger adorning her features as she awaited your response. 
“Yes mommy, I can be quiet” You whisper, almost inaudibly. You mentally celebrate as her hand returned to your underwear, slipping her fingers below the waistband.
She moved painfully slowly, and you couldn’t help but flinch when she came into contact with your exposed core, drawing lines down your folds before connecting her fingertips to your clit. 
Her touch was almost too light and you bit back a whine, attempting to move your hips to gain friction.
She frowned.
“I need you to be still, baby, understand?”
You went to respond, but before you had a chance, she flicked her free hand, red whisps escaping them and you felt your thighs pressing down to the seat with an invisible force.
She looked down at you with a proud grin and leaned in towards your ear.
“All better” she spoke, leaving goosebumps down your neck, which were soon forgotten when she rolled the bundle of nerves between your legs with her thumb, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips.
You struggled against her powers, wanting nothing more than to chase the release you so desperately longed for.
“Relax baby. Mommy’s going to take care of you tonight. Mommy knows how to make you feel good” Wanda reassured, her voice soft, enjoying the power she had over you. The way your breathing faltered when she played with you the way she knew you liked it.
You let out a small whimper as you felt two fingers enter you at a torturously slow pace.
“You’re so wet already” she noted to herself “My perfect girl”
To your delight, she began to thrust her digits into you, building up a quicker pace, her eyes not leaving your own as she watched your arousal grow.
You whined again, to which Wanda pressed a finger against your lips to shush you. You took this opportunity to take it into your mouth and Wanda raised an eyebrow.
“Not so worried about Vis now, huh?” She asked with a chuckle.
You swirled your tongue against her finger and she pushed in another. Humming softly as you took them.
“Whatever keeps you quiet” she mumbled, quickening her pace. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your lower stomach begin to tighten. Her fingers curled inside you as her thumb reached to circle your clit once more.
“No no” she pressed, removing the fingers from your mouth to cup your face. “Eyes open baby. Mommy wants you to look at her when you come”.
Wanda used her other hand to reach underneath your bra, your nipples hardening as she pinched at the bud, a low laugh escaping her as you leaned further into her grip. Your thighs ached from attempting to push against her restraint, and you let out a groan as she worked at your body, feeling yourself getting closer. You wanted nothing more than to feel her mouth against your own as you reached your high and the older woman seemed to realise this. You’d forgotten how easy it was for her to read you.
“I know baby” she cooed “You can kiss mommy all you like when we’re alone”
This statement reinforced your earlier worry, twisting to look behind you to see if you’d been caught out. Wanda tutted, gripping your chin firmly once again.
“What did mommy tell you, detka? Eyes on me.”
“I’m close mommy” You moaned, breathing heavy and she twisted her fingers inside of you, thumb caressing your clit faster than before.
“You can let go now, princess” she whispered, watching your body jerk under her control as you came undone.
Her hands remained in their position, eventually slowing down as she helped you ride out your high.
Your mind was swimming as the sensation overcame you, heightened by the way her eyes drilled into you.
“There she is” Wanda spoke finally, pride glowing in her face as she admired you, weak and dizzy in front of her. “You did so well for me baby”.
You blushed deeply as you felt her powers loosen you from their grip. She ran the tips over her fingers over your cheeks, coaxing you out of your trance.
“Such a good girl.” she praised once more. You were sure you could’ve managed another round, however you were ripped out of this daydream when she reached for her empty glass and began to stand up and make her way out of the tub.
You hadn’t realised the look on your face was so obvious until Wanda tilted her head at you with a smirk.
“It’s okay detka, we still have tomorrow.” She flashed you a wicked grin as she held out a towel for you. “Now lets see if my husband can make himself useful and fix us another glass of wine”.
2K notes · View notes