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pellucid-constellations · 3 months

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If It All Fell

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??

a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3

Part 2 ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist ♡

As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.

Gods, your head hurt.

A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head.

“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”

You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake.

You took a pause.

And then another.

Who was the last person you had seen?

“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar.

The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.”

“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?”

“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.”

“Witches?”

“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?”

The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about.

Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?”

Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone.

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck.

“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?”

Another lapse in silence.

“My Gods…”

Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes.

But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop.

You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.

“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle.

“Azriel, she—”

“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in.

There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in.

You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them.

You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to.

“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed.

Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.”

Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head.

Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you.

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”

“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.”

His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.

That wasn’t right. None of this felt right.

The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right.

Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering.

It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out.

Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline.

“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.”

It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand.

But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them.

Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?”

You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud.

“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.”

Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.

The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.”

“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness.

“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.”

A twig snapped beneath a boot.

Azriel growled low in his chest.

The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused.

You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this.

“Stay away from her.”

“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.”

A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.”

Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain.

Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.

Part 2 ♡

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel angst

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starfinss · 4 months

Text

ʙʀᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ — ʀᴏʀᴏɴᴏᴀ ᴢᴏʀᴏ

𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮: One Piece

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Roronoa Zoro + Reader

𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: NSFW

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 7,375

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: He’d gotten jealous when some random idiot hit on you, and you realized you didn’t mind that jealousy. The frenzied make out session in that tiny closet was just the result of that realization.

You hadn’t spoken a word about the situation since that day. That was two weeks ago.

And then it happened again.

Storms were the worst.

You used to love them, before you became a pirate. You found contentment in listening to them; the musical sound of rain against the window, thunder growling overhead, lulling you to sleep. Peaceful. That’s what you thought of them. There was a certain kind of incomparable coziness that came with laying tucked into bed while a storm raged outside. You were inside, warm and dry, in your own little bubble of warmth.

But that was then, and this was now.

You knew you were in trouble when the sky had been blood red that morning, indicating the coming storm. It was just like the old mariner’s rhyme said, though thanks to Nami, you now knew the science behind it. Something about how the red color came from high water content in the atmosphere. You couldn’t remember the exact words she’d said.

Science or no, storms spelled trouble for sailors of any kind, even the kind that engaged in certain illegal activities such as piracy. Life was easy when the water was calm and the weather cooperated. Storms were a complication, and this one was no exception.

The low visibility, torrential rain, and rough water forced the Merry to dock at a tiny island town you didn’t even catch the name of, with you and the other Straw Hats left to find a motel or some other form of lodgings, since the rocking of the ship was making it hard to even stand up straight, let alone fall asleep.

And that led you to now. Drenched and miserable, and standing in the shabby lobby of the town’s motel.

“A room for six, please.”

The clerk looked at your captain for a moment before speaking.

“For six, sir?”

Luffy whirled around, counting the group out on his fingers before facing the clerk again.

“Yep,” he said, and even unable to see his face, you knew he was grinning. “Six. One bed should do.”

Nami looked at Luffy in askance, clearing her throat.

“Sorry about him, he’s an idiot,” she said, “how about six individual rooms?”

“A waste of Berry,” Luffy countered, waving off the navigator, “just give us the biggest bed you have.”

Nami sighed, running her hand through her hair, which was plastered to her forehead with rainwater. Your own was no different.

“Luffy, there’s absolutely no way we can all fit in one bed,” Nami said, then turned to the clerk, “we’ll take six rooms, if you have them available.”

The clerk nodded, clearly pleased with Nami’s much more reasonable request, turning his back to the group to check a clipboard.

“We have five available, miss,” he said, “four with singles, one with a double.”

A hush fell over the crew as you took in the information. You chewed your lip. This was fine. You could just share with Nami. You were both women, so it made sense that way. Plus, you knew she didn’t snore, so you’d get a comfortable night’s sleep. You were just about to say something about this when Luffy beat you to it.

“Who wants to share with me?”

Nami didn’t even look at him. “Not happening.”

Luffy wilted. “Why not?”

“What do you mean ‘why not?’”

Luffy looked offended. “I’m great at sharing beds!”

You figured this was as good a time as any to bring your idea up. “Nami—”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Nami said, more to Luffy than you, “you guys figure it out. I need a shower.”

“Wait, Nami,” you tried again, but she was already turning away, disappearing down the hall after collecting a key from the clerk, leaving you dumbstruck.

Usopp gave you a look of sympathy. You appreciated that, even if it didn’t fix anything.

“Let her go,” he said, “she’s the one who navigated us through the storm to this island. She deserves her own bed.”

He was right, but that didn’t remove you from the awkward spot you were in. Your wet clothing was starting to get cold, and you were beginning to shiver, so it was suddenly less important who you may end up sharing with.

“I’m still okay with sharing,” Luffy said, oblivious to any awkwardness, “anyone?”

You chewed your lip. You didn’t want to share with Luffy, and no offense to Usopp, but you weren’t all that keen about sharing with him either. He was your friend and you cared for him, but being that close in proximity with him would just be awkward. Sanji was similar in that regard.

And that left Zoro.

Zoro was different.

You weren’t entirely sure how to define your relationship with the swordsman. It didn’t start off as smooth sailing, for lack of better terms. From the moment you met, you were constantly bickering. He was just as hard headed as you were, resulting in anything from petty spats to full blown arguments. The unstoppable force meets the immovable object, though it was hard to tell just who was what in that regard.

Then the ‘incident’ happened, and things got even more complicated.

You shook yourself from your thoughts. You were too tired to deal with stupid feelings and the way Zoro’s eyes were boring into the back of your head. He had to be thinking exactly the same thing as you, and the thought of that simultaneously pissed you off and made your stomach twist in confusing knots.

“I’ll take one for the team,” you said, breaking yourself from your thoughts, “one of you shares with me. It’s up to you which one it is. I’m going to take a shower.”

Without another word, you grabbed the key to the room with the double from the clerk, stalking off down the hall.

You jammed the key into the keyhole, stepping inside the room after you reached the door. It was a small room, a little shabby, but clean enough. The bed was on the left wall, centered beneath a painting of either a whale or some kind of indistinct mythical creature, you were unable to tell. The wooden floor was covered with a well worn striped carpet. The far wall was mostly taken up by a lumpy-looking red sofa, as well as two windows, both rather small and covered by threadbare curtains the color of watered down mud. Everything in the room had a sort of well-used air to it. As you entered, you got rid of your boots, leaving them by the door to dry out.

All you’d brought along was yourself and a small rucksack with a nightdress you’d grabbed from your things, as well as a fresh change of clothing for the morning. You were starting to smell like fish and brine, so you made your way to the incredibly cramped bathroom connected to the room, quickly peeling off your clothes.

Your skin was cold as you turned on the water in the standing shower, and you shuddered as you stepped under it. Thank God for the hot water. You half-expected it to be cold, which wasn’t uncommon in backwater motels like this one.

There was a half-full bottle of shampoo, seemingly left over from the last guest, and you hesitated to use it, but you also didn’t want to go to bed smelling like the worst parts of the ocean, so you squeezed some into your palm, lathering it into your hair.

You knew what you were doing. You knew exactly who would follow you into this room. You groaned inwardly, your forehead thudding against the tile wall of the shower. You blamed that stupid jammed door for all of this. You blamed the idiot at the bar who hit on you, and the alcohol, and everything that led up to you being trapped in a closet with Zoro while bounty hunters trashed the building looking for your crew.

Because that stupid series of events were what made you realize you had feelings for Zoro. And now things were weird.

Silence filled by bickering was left empty and awkward, and the way Zoro kept looking at you when he thought you couldn't see didn’t help at all. Neither did the way his hands would linger on your waist if he passed you, just a brush of his fingers, sending electric shocks up your spine. And neither did the way he’d rest a palm on your thigh when you sat beside him at the dinner table. Nami was the first to notice the shift, though it was Sanji who deduced that something had happened between the two of you when you were shut in that closet, not that you’d ever tell him what it was, despite all his prying.

And something had.

You remembered the buzz of alcohol fading as you bickered aimlessly, pressed closer than comfortable as Zoro struggled with the door. You remembered the way you snapped, something about how confusing he was being, and then he was gathering you into his arms, crushing his lips against yours, and how he’d crowded you against the wall behind you soon after. You remembered how his hands felt, drifting down your body to grab at your hips, how his tongue tasted like the whiskey he’d been drinking before, and how just his touch alone made you feel like you were losing your mind.

He’d gotten jealous when some random idiot hit on you, and you realized you didn’t mind that jealousy. The frenzied make out session in that tiny closet was just the result of that realization.

You hadn’t spoken a word about the situation since that day. That was two weeks ago.

And then it happened again.

That was one week ago. You’d been in the kitchen, fixing yourself a sandwich late at night when Zoro appeared with the same idea. It started with you trying to bring up the closet incident, and ended with you caged against the countertop by Zoro’s arms, his mouth hot against yours, your fingers in his hair.

And that wasn’t spoken of, either.

You wanted to talk to him about it. And it wasn’t for lack of trying. You’d tried to approach Zoro about it, only to either chicken out, or end up with even more questions. It was incredibly strange, not only because it was out of character for Zoro to beat around the bush, but also because he seemed just as awkward as you were about it all.

Maybe this would force his hand, you supposed. Or maybe he’d ignore you, though that was unlikely for obvious reasons, and you’d end up spending the night in the same bed as Luffy or something.

Through the thrum of the running water, you heard the door to the main room open, then close again. You couldn’t hear anything else, however, and whoever had just entered didn’t bother to announce their presence, but you were already pretty sure you knew who it was. You took a breath before turning off the shower, wringing out your hair before stepping out.

You toweled yourself dry before finger combing your hair, making sure to get rid of any knots before putting on your underwear and pulling your nightgown on over your head.

You opened the bathroom door, pausing briefly when you saw Zoro sitting on the bed, busy unlacing his boots. He turned to look at you when you entered, clearly intending to only spare a glance, but his gaze lingered, doing a full sweep of your body. You suddenly felt self-conscious, tugging the bottom of your nightgown down further.

You shook it off. This was fine. You had him alone now. He had no way of escaping the discussion that needed to happen.

With a breath, you circled the bed, sitting down with your back to him.

“We need to talk,” you said, “no more avoiding it.”

Zoro said nothing. You heard a soft thud as he tossed his boots away, followed by the rustle of fabric.

“Zoro,” you said, “I’m serious.”

“Can we do this another time?” He said, finally, and you sighed, annoyed.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t feel like it right now.”

You turned around to face him finally. He was standing now, and wearing less clothing than when he’d first entered the room. His shirt was gone, as was the haramaki he usually wore. The latter was laid out on the nightstand alongside his swords, the former clutched in one of his hands. You didn’t blame him for taking it off, it was surely soaked with rainwater, but him being shirtless really wasn’t helpful at the moment. Infuriatingly, you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

“I don’t care,” you said, “you haven't ‘felt like it’ in two fucking weeks. We made out, Zoro. Twice. Plus… everything else. That happened. We can’t pretend it didn’t.”

“We did,” Zoro said, crossing to the bathroom. He left the door open as he wrung his shirt out into the sink, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“There,” he said, “we talked about it. Are we done?”

You rose to your feet, arms crossed. “No. I need to know why. I need to know what that meant.”

Zoro turned to face you, leaning back against the sink basin. “What do you think it means?”

You tossed your hands up in frustration. “I don’t know. You kissed me. Both times.”

He shrugged, infuriatingly nonchalant, his face as impassive as always, though something about him was unmistakably smug. “I did.”

Zoro folded the shirt over the edge of the sink, moving to lean in the doorway. You cleared your throat, taking a step forward as well.

“Is that a problem?” He continued, eyes lifting at the corners in taunting mirth, “it didn’t seem like it at the time.”

“If it’s this easy to acknowledge it, why didn’t you talk about it at all? You got jealous, Zoro.”

Another shrug. Then a scoff, a near laugh, as he pushed off the doorframe to cross over to you.

“I did,” he said, “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you. Don’t tell me you’d rather have been in that closet with that stupid drunk rather than me. Or that you’d rather be with someone else in that kitchen. Or, y’know. Everything else.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Of course not. Why would you even think that?”

A flash of mischief appeared in his dark eyes. “So you liked kissing me?”

You avoided his gaze, displeased with the way he’d taken control of the situation. “That isn’t the point. The point is—”

But you didn’t get to finish. Because before you could even finish being annoyed with him, Zoro was grabbing you by the shoulders, pressing his mouth to yours. It was a chaste, quick kiss, but it still left you speechless and reeling.

“And what about that one?”

You blinked, your thoughts a jumble of nonsense. “Still not the point,” you managed, “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you, Zoro, this isn’t—”

Another kiss, deeper this time. You gasped in surprise, fighting back the urge to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Stupid, infuriating man, doing stupid, confusing things to you. You pressed your hand against his chest, pushing him gently, just to get a word in before he pulled you back in.

“Zoro,” you said, “what do you want?”

“You,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Fuck it. Fuck this, fuck him. This stupid moss-headed moron was messing with you, he had to be, and you could tell from the way he was smiling at you, crooked and devious, like the cat that got the cream. He liked seeing your confusion and uncertainty. He’d just been waiting for this, for you to snap. You stared at him furiously and wild-eyed before it was your turn to pull him in, your mouth colliding with his.

Zoro’s hands rose to cup your cheeks, then shifted down to land on your waist, and you were moving, back colliding with the wall beside the bed. He tasted like whiskey again, which was puzzling since he hadn’t had any to drink that you knew of, though, knowing him, he probably had a flask stowed somewhere.

It was almost a relief to kiss him, like a salve being applied to a burn, and you had to stop yourself from crying out as his hands drifted down to your hips, squeezing, his knee pressing at the close of your thighs. Zoro had been like a cat before, playing with his prey. Now he was going in for the kill.

But two could play at that game.

You slid your hands down from where they’d been folded behind his neck, flattening against his strong chest. Your fingers trailed down the defined muscle, pressing into the dips and curves of his abdominals, finally catching on the waistband of his trousers. Your thumb dipped into the ridge of muscle at his waist, nail scraping gently against the warm skin, and you felt him shudder, breath catching.

His hand caught your wrist, with no particular strength, but enough to warn you of what you were getting yourself into. You responded by taking his lower lip between your teeth, tugging gently before linking your mouths together again. You knew what your were doing, and you knew what would happen if you riled him up more.

That did it. Zoro sighed against your mouth, a slow release of breath that seemed to display his rapidly fraying restraint, especially as you twisted your wrist free of his grip, fingers trailing up his sides, making him shiver. His grip on your hips tightened, the fabric of your nightgown bunching between his fingers, causing the garment to ride up, but you hardly cared, not when his knee was slotting itself between your thighs, pressing flush against your clothed cunt.

The slow, easy grind made you gasp into Zoro’s mouth, hips twitching, but he was holding you down, firm against the wall, still an utterly infuriating tease, even now. You retaliated by palming him through his trousers, slow and deliberate, and he broke the kiss to look at you, breath heavy, gaze heated.

“You sure you wanna do that?” He warned, “you’re playing with fire.”

“Maybe I like getting burned,” you shot back, defiant.

Amusement danced in his dark eyes, his lip catching between his teeth as he fought a smile, and it was then that you noticed his face was flecked with countless freckles, a constellation across his cheeks. Absently, you wanted to kiss each and every one of them.

But the thought was ejected from your mind as he was kissing you again, tongue pressing into your mouth, and your fingers found his hair as he pulled your leg up to rest against his hip. Then his hand was between your thighs, broad palm against your clothed center, fingers pressing against the rapidly dampening fabric, dragging so slowly that it made you crazy, but his opposite hand was still holding you in place, unwavering, even as you squirmed in his hold.

Zoro’s fingers slid to your clit, pressing through the fabric of your panties, making you gasp into his mouth, the sound devolving into a low moan as he pressed again, rubbing in slow, lazy circles. He kissed you deeper, slower still, making you arch into him as his hand tightened its grip on your hip, pushing the fabric of your nightgown up higher, then sliding beneath to touch your bare skin.

Fuck, the feel of his palm, rough and worn and calloused, against your flesh, it felt like perfection, and your body twisted as his fingers pressed against the bend of your waist, his touch like a simmering heat.

“Touch me,” you blurted, muffled by his mouth, and he pulled back to look at you, amused.

“Aren’t I already doing that, doll?”

Your defiance was draining away more and more as the seconds ticked by, especially at the sound of his voice. It was a low, rough sound, husky and heated, and it made suffocating arousal shoot down your spine. It was almost embarrassing just how quickly he’d gotten you like this, only with his hands and stupid, smart mouth.

“You know what I mean, jerk,” you shot back, but he simply chuckled, fingers sliding away from your clit to press at your entrance, pushing the fabric of your panties against your heated skin.

You squirmed, but he held you still, his grip like iron on your body. You felt his breath against your skin, making you shudder, one hand gripping at his wrist, the one between your legs. His mouth brushed against the curve of your shoulder, dragging up the column of your throat, teeth grazing the spot just beneath your jaw, and you almost felt lightheaded.

His fingers pressed against your panties again, aided well by the wetness that was soaking through the fabric, causing your body to jolt in his hold, back arching against the wall when his index finger circled your clit again.

“Zoro,” you gasped, fighting for control, “please.”

“Please?” He rumbled, “‘please’ what?”

Your head fell back against the wall, eyes squeezing closed as he pressed down against your clit. Fuck, how were you already so wet? His mouth skated down your throat to your collarbone, teeth grazing your skin before you felt his tongue dart out, dipping lower, towards the top of your already low-cut nightgown.

“Just take them off,” you blurted, head swimming, “do it properly.”

Instead of doing what you said, he simply pushed the fabric aside, but before you could counter, his fingers were dragging along your cunt, teasing, and you let out a low whine. His mouth attached itself to your throat, teeth sinking into the tender flesh and making you cry out. His tongue smoothed over the spot he’d bitten before repeating the action.

Slowly, his fingers sank inside of you, and your hands were grasping at his hair, making him groan against your skin, a sound that only riled you up further. He moved away from your throat to rest his forehead against yours, and when your eyes fluttered closed, he crooked his fingers inside of you, forcing a cry from your throat.

“Eyes on me,” he whispered, “don’t look away.”

A flush of arousal flooded your system at the request, and you realized how much of a struggle fulfilling it was as he began to move. His fingers were able to reach much deeper than your own were, not to mention that they were thicker. The slow, almost tortuous pace he’d adopted made the friction of his rough palm against your clit even sweeter.

Gasping, breathless, your hands curled around his forearms as you clambered for any kind of purchase, anything to keep you anchored. Your eyes were still locked with his, leaving you unable to hide the flush on your cheeks, the desperation in your gaze.

His eyes were growing wild. Famished and dark as midnight, his gaze slid down your body to what he was doing between your legs, and you watched in rapture as his lips parted, drawing a shuddering, stricken breath at the sight. You squeezed his arm, forcing him to look up at you.

“Don’t break your own rule,” you said, voice heated, and amusement flashed on his face.

“Minx,” he countered, palm grinding against your clit, and you let out a startled moan.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, “that’s what I wanna hear.”

You groaned, both in pleasure and in frustration. “Then go faster.”

He chuckled, full lips pulling into a roguish half smile.

“Oh no,” he said, fingers curling inside of you, making your back arch, “I intend on taking my time with you. You have no idea what you do to me, do you? What you make me feel? I wanna savor this.”

His thumb moved to your clit, rubbing in slow circles, and you bit your lip to muffle your gasp of pleasure. This was embarrassing. You were so defiant before, but some pretty words and his stupid, pretty hands were enough to make all of that crumble.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t bite back.

One of your hands slid down his chest again, fumbling with his belt before tugging it off. He was already hard, something evident through the fabric of his slacks, and when you pressed your palm against him, you got the pleasure of hearing him gasp.

You tugged at his button for a moment before it came unsnapped, then pulled down his zipper before reaching down past the fabric, palming him through his underwear. He shuddered under your touch, a muscle in his jaw tensing as you explored, breath coming out in a sharp burst when your thumb ran over his clothed tip. His eyes briefly flicked away from yours as you focused on that spot, rubbing in circles, making him grunt, and when you pressed down, ever so gently, he groaned.

“You’re making it hard to focus,” he said, and the way he was looking at you was almost predatory.

You looked at him through your lashes, causing his breath to hitch. “Good.”

Finally, you pushed his underwear down, tugging him free and catching him in your hand.

Fuck.

He was thick. Your fingers only barely met as you wrapped your hand around him, and his length was worth mentioning as well. Six and a half inches, you’d guess, maybe even seven. It was oddly pretty, too, with a pink flush. He was a good deal bigger than anything you’d been expecting, not that you thought about Zoro’s dick with any kind of frequency.

You took him into your hand, rubbing at his leaking tip, smearing precum with your thumb, an action that made him groan. You stroked him slowly, just as slow as he was touching you, and you watched as he fought to keep his eyes on you, lashes fluttering. His jaw clenched, hips shifting towards your hand as you thumbed his tip, sliding your fingers down to rub the underside of him.

Zoro’s breath left him in a burst, hips twitching forward, the hand on your waist tightening its grip to nearly bruising. His fingers curled inside of you, making your back arch, free hand flying to grab at the back of his head, tangling into his hair. Your eyes were still locked, and you wanted to kiss him so badly, but you wouldn’t be the one to break, not when he was still going so slowly it was driving you crazy.

So you sped up. You knew you’d catch hell for this, but you decided that whether or not you’d be able to walk tomorrow was a problem for then, when your thoughts weren’t blurry with arousal.

You touched him in quick, even strokes, squeezing at the tip each time, and you got to listen to him growl, his hand slipping from your waist to press against the wall beside your head, fingers fanning out. You could tell from the quickness of his breaths that he was trying to keep control, and then he was speeding up, making you falter.

The curl of his long fingers as he pumped them in and out of you, creating a sound that should’ve embarrassed you, but really only aroused you more. Your brows pitched up, pressing together, because fuck, it almost burned after how slow he’d been going before, making you squirm, and his hand was grabbing at your wrist, pinning the hand that had been touching him to the wall.

“Eyes on me, darling,” he hissed, voice heated, “you wanted faster? I’ll give you faster.”

You couldn’t help but moan as he pushed his fingers deeper, hitting all the right spots, mouth just grazing yours as you squirmed against the wall, bucking your hips against his hand. He was playing you like a damn instrument, thumb firm against your clit, and he rewarded you with deep thrusts of his fingers every time you cried out. You could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, and your fingers knotted in Zoro’s hair, eyes half lidded, pleading. He groaned, low and rough, just at the sight of your stricken expression.

His hand left your wrist to run up your body, stopping on your clothed chest, and he pushed the fabric down below your breasts, causing the straps to slip down your shoulders. His palm pressed against a breast, and your breath shuddered. Your hips jumped when he gently squeezed, rubbing a thumb over one of your nipples. He caught the nipple between his fingers, pulling, rolling it between them, and the sensation shot straight down between your legs.

You were close. It was almost maddening, how good it all felt, and you could hardly focus on anything but Zoro’s hand between your legs, and how you were grinding down into his touch, chasing your high. He let you do as you pleased, gaze downright famished as he watched your face twist in ecstasy. You let out a loud, desperate whine, a near sob as he pushed his fingers deeper, thumb on your clit, driving you into that desperate build that comes just before you tip over the edge.

“Zoro,” you managed, voice strained, “Zoro, please.”

He said nothing, only replying with a growl as he crushed his lips against yours, frenzied and hungry, and your nails dug into his scalp as he brought you to your end, sending you toppling over that edge and into oblivion.

You saw spots as you came, and he broke the kiss to watch your face, gaze dark as your head knocked back against the wall, hips bucking wildly against his hand, because it was all you could do not to scream, one of your hands slamming over your mouth, teeth sinking into your palm. You were squeezing around his fingers, spasms wracking your body, his name on your tongue like a broken prayer. Zoro pulled your hand away from your mouth, diving in to kiss you, deep and passionate, his tongue tangling with yours, and you moaned into his mouth as he worked you through your climax and into the realm of overstimulation.

You were halfway towards a second orgasm when he finally pulled away, and you slumped against the wall, boneless, breath uneven and heavy. Zoro’s mouth pressed against the side of your throat, trailing up to your ear.

“Think you can handle more?”

You smiled, still breathless, looking at him through your lashes. “Let me catch my breath.”

“Tired already?” He taunted.

You responded by pushing off the wall to drop your nightgown off your body, followed by your panties. Zoro’s eyes raked down your figure, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and then he was pulling you to him, mouth hot against yours. You could feel his bare cock pressed against your stomach, and his hands slid down your hips to your thighs, boosting you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

His mouth trailed down your throat, sucking hard enough to surely leave marks, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your hips forward, grinding against him, and he moaned into your skin, his grip on your body growing tighter. He was growing impatient, you could tell. But so were you.

“Wanna fuck you so bad,” he husked, and you whined, pressing your hips against him once again.

“Then do it,” you said.

That was all it took. You were suddenly moving, tossed onto the bed, and you watched as Zoro slid his trousers down his legs before he was taking his place above you. His mouth was hot against you, and you wrapped your legs around his hips, growing more impatient by the second, something that didn’t go unnoticed.

“So needy,” he chuckled, lips brushing against your jaw, and you arched your back, shifting your body against him, making him hiss between his teeth.

“So cocky for someone who was telling me how bad he wanted to fuck me,” you countered, “are you all talk, then, demon?”

His eyes flashed, thrilled and amused, and you knew you were in for it, but not one part of you cared. In fact, you welcomed it. Obviously just as impatient as you were, he was prying your thighs farther apart, his body slotting between them.

You felt his tip at your entrance, pressing forward, and you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as he pushed inside, and fuck, even just that was a stretch. Your head fell back, breath uneven. You felt Zoro’s mouth against your neck, and he was pushing forwards just a bit more, making you whine.

“Fuck,” you gasped, “fuck, you’re too big.”

“Relax,” he urged, voice rough, “it’s too fuckin’ tight, you gotta relax.”

You took a breath through your nose, fingers knotting into the duvet beneath your body. You took another breath as he sunk deeper, the stretch bordering on painful, but you could take it, even if it felt new and strange.

Zoro’s face was flushed pleasantly pink, a sight that would be endearing in any other context, and you watched his teeth grit as he pushed forward again.

“You can take it,” he whispered, encouraging, “shit, relax, relax.”

You lifted your hips, allowing him to take hold of them, using them as leverage to push the rest of the way in, finally bottoming out.

“Fuck,” Zoro gasped, voice breathless and stricken, “fuck, that’s it, I knew you could take it— shit—”

His sentence was cut off by a loud groan, and you yanked him down into a kiss, appreciating how still he was being, despite his rapidly unraveling restraint, but you could hardly wait, even as your body protested at the unfamiliar feeling of being stuffed so full. You shifted your hips forward, your breath leaving your lungs in a sudden burst, and you heard Zoro groan in response.

“Move,” you gasped, “please.”

He gave a shallow little thrust, then another one, slightly deeper, and you felt his hands grip your waist as he pulled his hips back, only to thrust forward, filling you once more.

You gave a choked, helpless moan as he thrust again, and fuck, you didn’t think you’d ever felt so full in your life. The stretch was rapidly making your thoughts turn to nonsense, head emptied out, and not one part of you cared at all.

Zoro adopted a pace that had you rocking back against the bed, head falling into the pillows, and he was dipping his head down to meet your mouth in a heavy kiss. His hands found your legs, pushing them up to wind around his waist, shifting his hips back to an angle that made your head spin.

“Right there,” you slurred, “Zoro, Zoro, right there— so good.”

He gave a low, indulgent groan, his hands smoothing over your body, grabbing at your waist, tugging you flush against him before he was thrusting again, stuffing you full, forcing a sudden moan to fall from your lips.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin on skin, mixed with your breathy, bitten-off moans and his soft grunts, and fuck, you didn’t know it would feel this good. It definitely wouldn’t be the last time this happened, not when it was more than evident that what you felt for Zoro was far from one-sided, and certainly not when it made you feel like this.

Your nails dug into Zoro’s back as he fucked into you, and he gave a stronger thrust, breath shuddering. You watched a muscle in his jaw tense, twitching, eyes squeezing shut as you tightened around him. His head dipped to connect his mouth with the curve of your shoulder, dragging down to your chest, and his lips pressed against your nipple. His tongue passed over the sensitive flesh, making you arch into him, squirming, and his grip grew tighter.

“You don’t know how much I thought about this,” he breathed, hips rocking forward, “how many times I imagined fucking you in that closet. You’re so fucking gorgeous, with that smart-ass mouth. And you love this, don’t you? You’ve wanted this, too.”

You let out a shrill wine as he ground his hips against you, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit. Your hips lifted to meet his thrusts, making him groan, and he was holding you down, one hand on your lower stomach as he shifted back onto his knees, tugging your thighs around his hips.

“I wanted this,” you slurred, back arching as he ground his hips against yours just right, “thought about it, too.”

Zoro’s hands tightened on your thighs, and you sobbed in bliss as he ground himself against you, the friction combined with the way he made sure to hit your clit with the base of his cock with every roll of his hips making it hard to even see straight.

You tossed your head back, whimpering, and you weren’t going to last, not when he was doing everything he could to make you writhe. Each thrust left your head empty, breath heavy and rough.

“Harder,” you gasped, “c’mon, Zoro, give it to me.”

You felt his hands find the backs of your knees, lifting them to your sides to use as leverage as he pushed deeper with a heavy groan. His mouth met your throat, and then he was biting down, but the pain was nothing compared to the overwhelming pleasure, the two mixing into an intoxicating feeling. Deep, hard thrusts sent you into incoherency, and when one of his hands left your leg to press a thumb to your clit, you let out a whine of his name.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Zoro groaned, “you’re gettin’ close, yeah?”

You could do no more than nod as he took your body with abandon, your climax so close it was driving you insane. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers in his hair, and he groaned in your ear as you bucked up against him. You were totally drunk on pleasure, overwhelmed. He was the center of your world at that moment as he thrust deep into you, the rough pad of his thumb working you into madness.

You bit down on Zoro’s shoulder, sobbing in bliss as your orgasm hit you, washing over you like a tidal wave. His name was the only word on your tongue as he worked you through it, repeating it like unholy scripture until you could do no more than whimper in ecstasy, nails digging into his back.

“Fuck— fuck!” You heard him cry, hips stuttering, “one more, do that again, I need to feel that again.”

And he was hiking one of your legs over his shoulder as his pace turned borderline punishing, leaving you helpless, unable to do anything other than lay there and take it, but you hardly had the wherewithal to even protest, not as he worked your over-sensitive body to its very limits.

His nails dug into your thigh, a growl tearing from his throat as his thrusts grew erratic. Your head was empty, completely fucked out, thoughts filled only with jumbled thoughts of the man above you as he fucked you, deep and hard. You felt tears beading at your lash line as Zoro worked you towards yet another climax, and you yanked him down into a sloppy kiss in crazed desperation for as much contact as possible.

“Gonna cum,” you choked, “Zoro, fuck—”

“Do it,” he snarled, “fuck, do it, cum on my cock— yeah!”

You felt yourself gush on his dick, muffling your scream in the crook of his neck, vision spotty, and you knew you’d get addicted to this, addicted to him, but you knew neither of you cared at all about that fact, not when he was chanting your name, chasing his release as you squeezed around him in a vice grip. His pace was relentless, entirely indulgent, and you could feel him twitching inside of you.

“Wanna fill you,” he gasped, desperate, completely undone, “let me, will you let me?”

Unable to form words, you only nodded, yanking him down into another kiss as he thrust all the way in, stuffing you completely full, moaning into your mouth as he pulsed inside of you, his hands bruising in their grip on your body. Heat bloomed inside of you, making you whimper against his mouth, and you slowly rocked your hips to help him through the euphoria of it all, something that made blunt nails dig into your flesh.

Together, you lay panting, breathless and undone, tangled together. Zoro broke the kiss to bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing erratically, and it was a few tense moments before he was slowly pulling out, rolling off of you to lay beside you.

“That can’t be a one time thing,” you said, after you found your voice, and Zoro huffed what may have been a laugh.

“Fuck no.”

A few beats of silence passed before the bed creaked, and another few passed before you felt a towel between your thighs, wiping you clean. Then, the blankets were being pulled back, and you were being tucked under them. Zoro climbed in shortly after, tugging you to lay against his body.

Silence passed some more, and you almost thought Zoro had fallen asleep before he spoke.

“You make me feel things I’m not used to,” he said.

You stole closer, curling into him, resting your head on his chest.

“How long have I done that?”

He pressed his nose into your hair. “Since I met you.”

You snorted. “Bullshit. You didn’t like me when we met.”

“I did,” he said, “I’m being serious. You’re gorgeous and strong, and you know it. You don’t back down. You made me feel things I’ve never felt before for anyone. I didn’t know how to handle that, so I acted like an idiot.”

You smirked. “Hell of a time to tell me that, after you fucked my brains out. You had a crush, so you acted like a little kid on the playground, is that it?”

A snort. “Yeah, pretty much. Never said I was proud of it.”

You laughed, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

“I feel the same,” you said, “when you kissed me in that closet, I realized it. You could’ve just asked me to get a drink, though.”

Zoro smiled. “Sure, I could’ve. But this was way more fun.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Teasing me relentlessly?”

“Yep. Do you have a problem with that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, several. But I’ll pay you back for that in due time.”

“Give it your best shot. I look forward to it.”

Idle chatter continued for a little while before you began to doze off. You felt Zoro tug you closer as you fell asleep, and for once since you started sailing with the Straw Hats, you were actually thankful for storms.

And, as you felt Zoro’s lips press against the crown of your head, you were excited for the future.

“You had fun last night.”

You turned to look at Nami from your spot at the front railings of the Merry, eyes slowly growing wide.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure,” she said, “play that game. But maybe try a little harder to cover up the hickies next time you and Zoro… spend the night together.”

Shit.

“Nami, I’m sorry,” you relented, “it sort of just happened.”

She snickered. “Usopp told me he basically forbade anyone from taking the room with you after you left the lobby.”

You put your face in your hands, thoroughly embarrassed. “Usopp knows?”

“He isn’t stupid, anyone could’ve figured out what might happen. The hickies are just confirmation.”

“Confirmation for what?”

You bristled at the sound of Zoro’s voice, stiffening when he crossed the deck to reach you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Nami said, and Zoro smirked, smugness radiating off of him in waves.

“Do I?”

She rolled her eyes. “Why else would she be walking funny?”

Zoro shrugged, nonchalant, still smug as ever. “I guess we’ll never know.”

And as he tugged you closer, nose pressing into your hair as Nami turned to walk away, you couldn't help but smile.

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plorpl · 7 months

Text

More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.

Way, way too much info under the break!!

The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:

WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO

You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.

The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.

One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.

And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.

More insane top screen screenshots without context:

Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:

I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.

That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:

And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:

It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.

Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:

#house md #hate crimes md #ds game #house md ds

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

Text

I like me better when I am with you

Masterlist

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.

Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy

Word count - 2.8k

a/n - I had so much fun writing this.

Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.

Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.

But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.

"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"

His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.

Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.

Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."

"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.

Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."

Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.

No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.

Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.

And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.

That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.

He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.

You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.

Maybe that's why she is friends with you.

That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.

Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?

Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.

The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.

You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.

Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.

This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.

You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.

"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?

Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her

Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.

"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.

Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.

Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.

"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done

"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...

"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."

Before it's too late

That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.

How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.

Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.

You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.

"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.

: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.

Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.

A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.

"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"

Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.

"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.

"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.

"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.

Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.

"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."

You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.

"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.

"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.

"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"

Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.

"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."

You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.

What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.

He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."

Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."

"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.

"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"

You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.

Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."

You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.

You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.

"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"

"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.

"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"

"That's literally his name."

"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.

"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."

"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"

"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.

You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "

"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.

"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.

"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.

Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.

Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -

All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.

He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.

When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.

"I want to be yours, Buck."

If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.

"You don't mean that, doll. You - "

"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #winter soldier x you #marvel #oneshot #jealousy #love confessions #bucky barnes fluff

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wileys-russo · 6 months

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childhood sweethearts (7) II a.russo x reader

series playlist part one part two part three part four part five part six

another flashback, and some fluffy little firsts for our star crossed lovers childhood sweethearts (7) II a.russo x reader

eleven years old; the (sort of) first kiss

"did you see charlie and lily today at lunch?" you asked your best friend scrunching your nose in disgust, her head resting beside yours as the two of you lay on her bed, currently overcoming food comas after gorging yourselves on movie snacks all night.

"they looked like they were trying to eat others faces." alessia agreed before making a weird noise and attacking you, pretending to be some sort of monster as you shoved her off you with a grin.

"is that how you're supposed to kiss someone?" you asked curiously, the two of you looking up at her ceiling as the girl beside you shrugged. "i've never kissed anyone, how would i know?" alessia sighed, a brief pause of silence falling between the two of you.

"have you?" "what? kissed someone?" "yeah."

"lessi do you think maybe i'd have told you if i kissed someone, idiot." you laughed, shoving her head to the side as she rolled her eyes and sat up. "everyone makes a big deal out of it. seems gross!" you pulled a face, not loving the idea of swapping spit with anyone.

"super gross. charlie looked like he was trying to do laundry in lilys mouth." alessia joked as you gave her a look of confusion. "you know, cause his tongue was like a washing machine-" she sat up and demonstrated, aggressively swirling her tongue around and licking the air like a dog making you let out a loud pelt of laughter.

"rory said the other day apparently people practice on their hands." you remembered the words of another one of yours and alessia's mutual school friends. "their hands?" alessia frowned deeply and you nodded.

"yeah they do this-" you made a fist. "-and then they like pretend this bits the mouth-" you pointed to the small hole on the side of your hand where your fingers didn't quite meet. "-and then they practice kissing with it." you shrugged.

"have you been doing that?" alessia grinned as your face blushed bright red, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. "no!" you pushed her over so she fell onto her back beside you again. "rory just showed me." you rolled your eyes as alessia hummed, still grinning.

"i haven't!" you protested, smacking her shoulder and now being the one to sit up. "you're the worst." you grumbled, flicking her ear as she whined and swatted your hand away. "then why are you with me all the time." alessia mocked.

"don't have any better options yet, i'm on the market for a new best friend." you shrugged, now the one to grin as the girl let out an offended scoff and launched at you, the two of you rolling around wrestling.

"girls!" you both paused, you teetering on top of alessia with your knees pressed into her stomach as she tightly held your balled fists in her hands, both your heads turning toward the door where an amused looking mario stood. "its nearly nine, go to bed or keep it down." he warned with a smile as you both nodded and he left with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

"first to get ready for bed wins, go!" alessia challenged, shooting up from her bed as you hastily followed, diving onto the floor and rummaging through your overnight bag, with a glance over your shoulder you saw you were losing and internally groaned.

however as alessia tried to jump into her pyjama shorts her clumsy nature betrayed her and she tripped over her own feet, crashing down onto the ground as you yelled time, having just finished.

"i win! loser." you stuck your tongue out at the blonde who huffed, pulling her shorts on properly and sitting beside you on the bed. "go on." alessia groaned, holding her arm out expectantly for the usual punishment from your bets.

"how do you do it again?" you frowned, attempting to give her a chinese burn but really only twisting her arm around without any success. "like this." alessia grabbed your arm and you yelled loudly in pain as she successfully gave you one, the blonde smacking a hand over your mouth as you both looked to the door, silent for a moment but breathing out once neither of her parents appeared.

"i didn't mean give me one!" you scowled, rubbing your arm with a huff. "don't be such a baby." alessia rolled her eyes, kissing your arm apologetically before getting up to turn the lights off.

"hey! you're supposed to get one, you lost." you protested, alessia only shrugging as she grabbed the remote for her tv. "you tried and failed, you're the loser now." the girl teased, ruffling your hair as she jumped into bed, both of you settling under the covers.

"i repeat; you're the worst." you sighed with a shake of your head, alessia only shooting you a grin and grabbing a half eaten block of chocolate off her side table, taking a piece before handing it over to you.

the two of you sat in silence as you finished the movie you'd paused earlier, the princess diaries. to your surprise alessia didn't fall asleep, her eyes normally slipping shut as soon as the lights were off after she'd played a full ninety minute game earlier today, but the blonde seemed just as awake as you were for once as the end credits rolled and she flicked off the tv.

"do you ever think about kissing someone?" alessia asked, the two of you laying in the dark, the only sound filling the room the faint gunshots from the other end of the hallway where her brothers were playing xbox in their own room.

"not a lot but sometimes i guess." you shrugged, not really sure how to answer. "would you kiss someone?" the girl asked again, uncertainty present in her voice. "i think i'd be scared i'd be really bad at it." you confessed honestly with a small sigh, your best friend agreeing.

"we could kiss, tell each other if we're bad or not." alessia suggested as you both sat up, backs resting against the headboard. "that's weird. don't you save your first kiss for a boyfriend?" you replied hesitantly as alessia again shrugged.

"it's not like it will mean anything. just to test it out for when we do it for real!" alessia added on as you thought it over. "okay. but no washing machines!" you stated firmly as alessia grinned. "no washing machines." the blonde held out her pinky, the two of you linking them with a nod.

"ready?" alessia asked as the two of you shifted to face each other and you nodded, leaning in a little. "go." you ordered, the two of you quickly pecking lips. "how was it?" you asked with a frown. "fine i guess?" alessia also frowned, both of you unsure what a kiss was actually supposed to feel like.

you stared at one another for a minute before bursting into laughter, sliding down into the bed and grabbing onto one another, bodys heaving as your eyes squeezed closed and you were both gasping for air, clutching your stomachs which began to hurt.

"girls!" the door suddenly flew open and light flooded the room, your hand moving over alessias mouth as you gave carol a guilty smile. "it's eleven thirty. go to bed, now!" the woman warned as you apologized, elbowing a still laughing alessia as carol gave you both a stern look and closed the door.

you both settled for a minute, laughs turning into quiet giggles. "well at least we aren't washing machines." alessia commented into the darkness, setting the both of you off again as you covered one anothers mouths, desperately trying to muffle the sounds of your amusement.

"girls!"

thirteen years old; the first boyfriend

"hey! how did it go?" you quickly shot to your feet, raising an eyebrow as your best friend wandered over, playing with the straps of her book bag.

"they said yes, but i just have to keep up with the work while i'm away and if i'm struggling to stay up to date i have to get a tutor. if my grades drop more then i'll have to miss out, they've agreed to a couple of months trial." alessia explained as you squealed, pulling her into a tight hug.

"this is amazing! my best friend, future lioness." you smiled proudly as alessias arm slung over your shoulder, the two of you making your way out of the office and back onto the school grounds to enjoy what was left of your lunch.

"i wish you played football! then you could come with me." alessia huffed in annoyance as the two of you sat down in your normal spot with twenty minutes left until the bell.

"you've seen me play football lessi." you shook your head as you grabbed out your lunch, rolling your eyes and giving half to alessia who'd eaten most of hers already at your morning break.

"yeah, maybe i could have them trade you to another team? like a really really bad woman on the inside, i'll even get them to make you goal keeper!" alessia teased as she bit down on her half of your sandwich.

"pass on that one. but your first national camp, it'll be so fun! you'll probably meet a load more girls who actually like football." you spoke a little quieter, moving your eyes to stare off into the distance which alessia didn't miss.

"hey, you're my best friend. no one can ever replace that! who else lets me kick footballs at their head and shares their lunch, i'd starve if we weren't friends." alessia grinned, shoving your head to the side playfully.

"so you keep me around for target practice and free food? great. thanks a lot less!" you rolled your eyes moodily. "that's not all you're good for. with your stimulating conversation, good looks and your enormous brain!" alessia knocked teasingly on your forehead as you smacked her hand away.

"speaking of. did you study for our math test?" you questioned sternly, having been on her back all week about it much to her disdain. "yes! sort of." alessia smiled sheepishly as you sighed deeply, used to this kind of response from the blonde.

"sort of?" "yeah, see."

with that the girl lifted up the edge of her uniform skirt, your eyes widening seeing several equations scribbled on her leg in marker. "alessia! cheating?" you hissed as the girl dropped her skirt with a shrug.

"it's not cheating, i'm just giving myself a little helping hand." alessia justified with a grin. "hey! isn't that oliver?" her smile dropped as she nodded over your shoulder with a frown. "uh yeah, why?" you glanced at the boy and back to her.

"isn't he your boyfriend? and he's over there snogging grace!" alessia scoffed in disbelief. "not anymore. he had mason come and give me a note breaking up with me this morning." you announced with a shrug, not seeming all that phased as your best friend looked at you with wide eyes.

"he did what? i'm gonna go break his arm, i told you not to go out with him!" alessia fumed standing to her feet as you hurried to tug her back down with a shake of your head.

"no you won't. we only went out for like two weeks less and we only spoke about five times, he's actually really awkward." you laughed, rubbing her shoulder in appreciation of her protectiveness.

"plus, he was not a good kisser." "washing machine?" "washing machine on a rinse cycle!"

fifteen years old; the first confession

"so there's a party tonight." alessia announced with a suggestive smile, flopping down on your bed as you hummed, head buried in your textbook. "i said, there's a party tonight." alessia repeated, yanking your book out of your hands and tossing it on the floor, her head instead coming to rest in your lap.

"and?" you huffed, smacking her forehead lightly for the mistreatment of your textbook. "and, we should go!" alessia grinned up at you, wiggling her eyebrows. "don't you have an early game tomorrow?" you sighed, playing with her hair like you knew she liked as she shrugged.

"so? we don't have to stay late but it would be fun. come on book worm, your textbooks will be okay left alone for one night!" alessia pinched at your cheeks with a mocking pout, squishing them together.

"are you asking me, or telling me?" "both? i told rory and emily to meet us here at seven." "alessia!"

it was a several hours later and you had to admit you actually weren't having a terrible time. well, you weren't at first. "no way you cheated!" you shoved rory who doubled your score at pinball, the two of you taking turns.

given that the host of this party was easily the richest boy in your grade there were all sorts of fun things to play around with. you'd not seen alessia in about an hour but you weren't too worried, the girl much more so the social butterly than you, you had no doubt she would be around mingling. you however were content so long as you had at least one of your friends by your side throughout the night.

oh how wrong you'd been to leave her on her own.

"hey y/n!" you looked up with a smile as you beat rory again, the girl punching you in the arm as another one of your friends amelia appeared. "um, it's alessia." the girl played nervously with her hands as you raised an eyebrow.

"what's alessia?" you questioned, gesturing for her to continue. "she's sort of...well, just come with me!" the girl grabbed your hand and dragged you off as you grabbed rorys, the redhead trailing after you as amelia lead the two of you upstairs.

"some of the boys brought vodka and they offered us some and well..." amelia winced, opening the bathroom door to reveal your best friend slumped over in the bath tub, emily crouched down by her side.

"she's drunk?" you asked in disbelief, the three of you shuffling into the bathroom and closing the door. "oh my best friend is here! hello you." alessia slurred, perking up happily at the sight of you as her head lolled to one side.

"how much did she drink? lessi how much did you drink?" you squatted down beside emily, grabbing the blondes hand who shrugged as her head thumped back down into the bath tub.

"dunno, few sips." the older girl shrugged as she closed her eyes. "why would you let her drink! why would you drink?" you shoved emily who looked down guiltily, rory sending you a pointed look and rubbing the brunettes back.

"sorry em. can she walk?" you apologized softly. "kind of?" emily winced as you stood, grabbing alessia's hands and trying to pull her up, the girl instead pulling you down as you landed half on top of her in the empty bath, head smacking back into the tiled wall.

"oh fuck!" you hissed sharply, clutching your throbbing head and squeezing your eyes closed. "oh god i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry." alessias eyes widened as she slurred through multiple apologies and your head began to pound.

"shit are you okay? how many fingers am i holding up? can you see one of me or two? do you feel tired? sleepy? you can't sleep if you have a concussion, wake up!" rory shoved her hand in your face. "three fingers rory, and i'm not concussed jesus!" you pushed her digits away from you with a huff.

"my mum is supposed to pick us up in an hour and if she finds her like this we're both dead." you groaned, smacking away alessia's hands which tried to cradle your sore head, still slurring apologies. "your sister, brother?" emily suggested as you shook your head, the girl in question having just lost her license for a few months for speeding, your brother still on his learners permit.

"what about alessia's brothers? god they're fit." rory suggested with a lovesick sigh, emily smacking her on the leg with a warning glare. "worth a try." you sighed, your friends helping you to your feet as rory stepped out, returning with a bottle of water as they coaxed alessia up into a sitting position, having her take small sips as you called gio first.

"short stack. to what do i owe this phone call interrupting my friday night?" the boy sighed as if annoyed but you knew he was only messing about with you, hurriedly rambling out what had happened.

"hey hey slow down. she's conscious right? she can breathe? speak?" the boy tried to calm you as you confirmed the above. "then it'll be okay. just make sure she's drinking some water and isn't left on her back in case she throws up, she could choke. text me where you are and i'll be there soon." the boy promised as you let out a sigh of relief.

"thank you."

"oh wow." the middle russo's eyes widened as it took all three of you to balance the tall blonde between you, who was really not able to walk. "come on less." gio grunted, taking her into his own arms and helping her into the car, buckling her in as she mumbled all sorts of gibberish.

"do you two need a lift home?" gio asked rory and emily who shook their heads, explaining rorys mum was already on her way to get them. you hugged them both goodbye and thanked them for their help before getting into the back next to alessia who'd already passed out.

you winced as her head slumped down onto your shoulder, the girls breath reaking of vodka and vomit as no sooner had the three of you helped her up had she released the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

"did you drink too?" gio asked somewhat firmly, giving you a stern look through the rear view mirror as you shook your head. "no i promise. i didn't even know there'd be alcohol there, and if i had i wouldn't have let less drink. i shouldn't have left her by herself!" you sighed, sparing a glance to the drunken girl beside her.

"hey what she does isn't your responsibility, you can't fix everything for her for the rest of her life. but she's lucky she's got you, even if she is a bit of an asshole to you sometimes." gio cracked a smile which you returned.

"i think the gentle bullying is just her way of showing love. you've seen how she gets when anyone else tries." you chuckled as alessia stirred, crossing her arms and sighing, still continuing to sleep on your shoulder. "mm it's very much so she can pick on you but no one else can." gio laughed quietly as he pulled into their driveway.

"are your parents still up?" you bit your lip nervously as the boy sent you a smile which said it all. "wait here a second." he slipped out of the car and headed inside. "hey lessi." nudging your shoulder up and down as the blonde let out a quiet groan.

"time to wake up, we're at your house." you encouraged softly, shaking her lightly as her bright blue eyes fluttered open. "how'd we get here?" she slurred tiredly, eyes slipping closed again as you sighed.

gio returned with luca in tow as you unbuckled her, again shaking her and helping her to sit up as she rubbed her eyes with an incoherent mumble. "oh lessi." luca sighed with a disappointed shake of his head as he and gio helped the girl out of the car, slinging her arms over their shoulders as she stumbled.

you shrunk as carol awaited your arrival in the doorway, tapping her foot and sighing as the four of you arrived. "hi mum!" the blonde slurred with a lopsided grin, head slumping back onto gio's chest. "take her to bed. i'll deal with her tomorrow!" the woman sighed tiredly, the boys nodding and doing as asked.

"you, come here." the woman beckoned as you hung back, nervously playing with your fingers. you followed her inside and to the kitchen, sitting down at the bench as she instructed, bouncing your knee nervously.

"tell me what happened, the truth." carol handed you a mug of tea as you sent her a small smile and took a sip. you sighed before filling her in on the whole night as best as you knew, unable to fill in the gaps where only alessia was present and responsible for her own actions.

"so you didn't drink?" carol asked firmly as you shook your head quickly. "nothing. i really didn't know anyone would have alcohol, i don't even know how they got it or how much she had." you admitted with a sigh, wishing you could rewind time and have kept a better eye out.

"come here." the woman opened her arms with a sigh as you hugged her, appreciating the warmth that always accompanied an embrace from any of the russo's. "you did the right thing calling someone but next time just call me or your mum, or even mario! i know he's lessi's favourite." the woman rolled her eyes as you cracked a small smile full well knowing your best friend was indeed the epitome of a daddys girl.

"are you gonna call my mum and dad?" you asked nervously, hands twisting around the now empty mug as carol nodded. "tomorrow yes. not tonight, go and get some sleep love." the woman nodded for you to head upstairs as she took your empty mug.

"are you angry with less?" you questioned, hovering in the doorway as carol sighed. "i'm more disappointed in both of you than angry. but she'll get her own talking to tomorrow, don't you worry about that! off you go." and with that you sighed, an uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of your stomach at the woman you considered a second mum being disappointed in you.

"hey, thank you for tonight." you hovered in gio's door once you'd headed upstairs, the boy giving you a hug and ruffling your hair before you headed across to alessia's room.

you had to blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the darkness, closing her door again and stumbling over toward her cupboard, huffing as you waded through the piles of clothes which littered her messy floor.

grabbing out some of her clothes you slipped into her bathroom, changing and brushing your teeth before flicking off the light and padding over to the bed. alessia was also changed and sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly ajar and blonde hair sprawled messily all over the pillows.

"move over less." you sighed, slipping into bed beside her and rolling her over with a grunt. the sudden change of her body had her stirring though as she groggily lifted her head, rubbing her eyes.

"where are we?" "your room lessi." "how the hell did we get here?" the girl slurred though it was much less now some time had passed since her last drink. "you're welcome. goodnight!" you turned onto your side facing away from her.

"go to sleep!" you kicked her as you felt her cold fingers tracing shapes on your back over your top. "no. i need to tell you something, turn over!" alessia demanded as you gave in with a sigh, rolling to face her and raising an eyebrow.

"you're gonna laugh at this, trust me." alessia giggled, clearly still a little drunk as she struggled to keep her head up and her eyes open. "go on then." you gestured for her to continue.

"well...i have a cruush." alessia sang out, poking your nose with a smile. "who?" you perked up, now much more interested in what she had to say. "you might know them." alessia smiled cryptically.

"who?" "you!" alessia revealed with a giggle, head slumping back onto her pillow as she sent you a drunken grin and poked your nose again.

"i think you're the best. you're also really fit and cute and ugh when i look at you sometimes i just wanna-" alessia made a grabbing motion with her hands, laying on her back now as you stayed perfectly still beside her, eyes wide and unable to move as your body tensed.

"-grab you and kiss you properly. take your breath away and make you love me like i love you. but you're my best friend and you like boys, so doesn't matter!" alessia gave you a lopsided smile, staring at you through half lidded eyes, the alcohol pumping through her blood stream like a truth serum.

"goodnight." she sighed suddenly, eyes closing properly as she settled, her breathing evening out within seconds as you remained frozen in spot, unsure how to even process what was just said.

it was safe to say you hardly slept a wink that night.

though if you were tired it was nothing compared to the disgustingly new feeling of alessia's first hangover.

you'd shot up awake as you heard her violently throwing up in the bathroom. a quick tap of your phone showed it wasn't even seven in the morning yet, barely twenty past six.

feet hitting the floor you left her room, padding quietly downstairs. grabbing some water and paracetamol and heading back to her, knowing where everything was as if you lived here.

you gave her a sympathetic smile as you entered the bathroom to see her slumped in the corner, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and fingers massaging her temples. "here." you offered her the water and pain killers which she took with an almost inaudible thank you.

last nights confession was fresh in your mind as you helped the taller girl to her feet and back to bed. "what the fuck happened last night?" alessia croaked out, burying her head in her pillows as you lay back down beside her and filled her in, conveniently leaving out her little eleven pm confession.

"jesus christ i thought it would just be a few sips, i'm such an idiot. my parents are going to kill me!" alessia moaned into the pillow. "your mum said last night she wasn't angry, just disappointed." you revealed as she rolled onto her back. "really? thank god." alessia sighed in relief now causing you to frown.

"you're happy about that?" "well yeah? she isn't angry, that's a relief." "she's dissapointed alessia that's worse!" "lower the volume please, and don't call me alessia you never call me by my full name it's weird."

fast forward and you never brought up her confession, unsure how to go about it at all, or how you felt about any of it. alessia however also clearly didn't remember it, not mentioning it much as you'd provided opportunities.

instead the blonde chose to focus on the pounding pain in her head as her parents forced her to still play her match that day, and it was safe to assume she more than learned her lesson about pairing football and a hangover.

you'd just assumed it had been a moment of drunken stupidity, her words holding no truth or meaning, deciding to push her confession deep deep down and do your best to move on as if you'd never heard it.

four months later; the first move

"are you nervous?" you asked, fingers expertly working their way through alessia's freshly dyed blonde locks, tugging and pulling with soft apologies as you braided her hair.

"no. i don't really get nervous about football, it's just another game. the girls are all lovely and training's been going well, i think we can win." alessia answered confidently, sat on the floor between your legs as you finished the braids, tapping her shoulders.

"these look wicked!" alessia grinned as she hurried to the bathroom, checking herself out in the mirror. "wicked?" you laughed, moving to cross your legs on the hotel bed with a raised eyebrow. "i think i've been hanging around tooney and stanway too much, they say it heaps." alessia rolled her eyes playfully.

"you should get back to your room, you'll be called down to warm up soon." you reminded as you checked the time. "shit i didn't realize it was after nine! thank you, saving my ass as always." alessia sighed, opening her arms as you stood to hug her.

"thank you for coming." the blonde whispered, you having accompanied her parents and brother to her first qualifying game with the under 17's lionesses team for the junior world cup, something you'd have not missed for the world.

"i won't have a clue whats happening but i'll be cheering for you." you grinned as she pulled away, rolling her eyes and kissing your cheek as she grabbed her stuff and slipped out of the room.

the kiss was nothing unusual, you'd both always been affectionate with one another, however ever since the drunken confession each little intimacy lead you down a windy and steep path of overthinking every little thing.

"-so why is she getting to just kick it?" you asked mario with a confused frown as one of alessia's team mates had earned a free kick.

"well you saw how number four was pushed to the ground?" the man moved closer as you nodded. "well she was tackled dangerously, something called studs up." he continued as you hummed.

"know how lessi's boots have all the little bumps on the bottom? those are studs, and when you tackle someone studs up it's illegal because it can lead to serious injuries. which is why she got a yellow card after, which is like a form of penalty. if you get two yellow cards that means you get a red card and you have to leave the pitch right away." mario explained as you let out a small ohh and nodded again.

"i just love our little football chats." the man chuckled, pulling you into his side in a warm hug. "sorry! less has been trying to teach me forever but it just goes in one ear and out the other." you apologized as he waved you off, gio and luca returning and handing you a hot chocolate as you smiled gratefully.

the girls came away with a 3-2 win and you couldn't be prouder of your best friend who bagged an assist and a goal of her own, being sure to point up at you and her family as she did before celebrating with her own team.

"hey a few of us are gonna have a big team sleepover in ellie and anna's room. you're gonna come right?" georgia asked alessia hopefully as she packed up her kit bag in the locker room. "she probably wants to spend some time with her girlfriend stanway leave her be!" ellie grinned as alessia frowned.

"she's not my girlfriend. she's my best friend, we've known each other since we were like five we're just really close." alessia corrected quickly, the smile dropping from her team mates faces.

"sorry! we just, well we assumed. sorry." ellie apologised as alessia nodded, sending them all a smile and promising to join them for a team breakfast tomorrow, leaving the change rooms with a weird feeling in her stomach.

"here she is, the next top striker of england!" gio cupped his hands over his mouth and announced loudly as alessia finally joined you all, having been kept busy with her team and the debrief and celebrations for around an hour or so.

she made her way around, hugging her family before stopping in front of you. "i am so proud of you! that goal was something else." you beamed, trying to hug her as she side stepped you, sending you a grateful smile and nodding for the two of you to catch up with her parents who were going to drive you all back to the hotel.

you brushed it off to her being tired, the car ride home filled with a lot of football talk you only pretended to understand, humming every now and then as your attention remained on the view outside, watching the world zip by quickly in blurs of green, grey, brown and blue.

though you were so fixated on the world outside that you entirely missed the pining looks constantly sent your way by your best friend beside you, who couldn't help but admire your side profile.

a soft smile settling on her lips as she watched your dimples appear and your nose scrunch every time you'd smile at something, the blonde finding both things absolutely adorable.

it was safe to say by the time you'd gotten back to the hotel and changed, then sat through a long dinner with her parents, then gone out for ice cream, alessia was shattered.

having been sharing a hotel room with her brothers you now had the room to yourself as they'd headed back a night early having plans with friends back home. so alessia opted out of her sleepover invite, ditching her team mates in favour of spending the night with you.

"god i think i'm gonna be ill." alessia moaned as she clutched her stomach, sinking into the soft mattress of one of the beds as you laughed. "i told you that second ice cream was a terrible idea and you'd make yourself sick. plus you ate your dinner, the starter and half of mine!" you shook your head, hands on your hips as you smiled down at her.

"i ran off a lot of energy today okay i was hungry! and you should know by now that i don't ever listen to a word you say so you should have found another way to stop me!" alessia groaned, her stomach gurgling.

"if you stink up the room as that all comes out the other end i'm sleeping in the hallway!" you warned, kicking her playfully and laying down beside her on the bed, both your legs dangling off the edge.

"please you love the smell of my farts, you've copped enough of them on your head over the years." alessia looked at you with a teasing grin as you gagged, shoving her away from you.

"urgh you're so gross sometimes. i can see why your mum says she basically had three boys!" you rolled your eyes mockingly. "please we're best friends we're supposed to share everything together, no matter what end it comes out of." alessia winked as you shook your head, gagging at her again.

"so i'll be sure to let your new team mates know you wet the bed till you were nine?" you grinned, knowing where to hit her to make it hurt as her jaw dropped. "that is such a lie! it was one time after we watched a scary film." alessia grumbled, sitting up and glaring down at you unappreciatively.

"but will they believe that? i don't think so, golden girl." you mocked as alessia's jaw dropped further and you barely had a second to roll away before she grabbed a pillow and tried to smack you with it.

"aren't footballers supposed to be coordinated?" you grabbed the other one, standing up on the bed with a challenging grin. "oh just you wait." alessia laughed as she stood up across from you, the two of you staring the other down, waiting someone to make the first move.

when she didn't make a move you lunged first, swinging the pillow with a war cry, collecting her right in the face as the two of you bounced around the bed like children half your age, smacking one another as your laughter filled the room.

you squealed as alessia suddenly tripped, grabbing onto you and practically tackling you down on the bed as she landed on top of you. the two of you couldn't contain your laughter as alessia laid her taller form down atop you, both your chests heaving and lungs burning with laughter until you eventually both began to settle.

as alessia sat up slightly she found her gaze pulled down to admire your flushed features. the way the corners of your mouth curled into a soft smile, the mischievous twinkle in your bright and alluring eyes, the curvature of your jaw and the way your ears stuck out a little from your head, something she constantly teased you for but actually found rather adorable.

now she was thinking about it there was a lot more about you alessia found so charmingly alluring it began to make her head spin. your eyes meeting hers as they shamelessly roamed your face, drinking in every single little detail, burning it into her mind so that if she never saw you again she would always be able to see you in her head.

catching the look in alessia's own face you pulled your head up slowly, the two of you staring each other down for a moment.

the older girls eyes couldn't help though to be drawn to your soft cherry pink lips, feeling the most overwhelming urge of curiosity wash over her at thinking of what they might feel like pressed to hers.

suddenly, but slowly, you both began to lean in as if compelled by some unknown force you were unable to stop.

then a pause, your faces so close that if alessia even just slightly turned her head, her nose would brush yours.

the blonde's eyes seemed to search your face as if silently asking permission of the younger girl beneath her, another pause passed before you nodded, both your hearts hammering so hard in your chests it felt like they could burst at any moment.

and just like that alessia leant in that little bit more, closing the final gap between the two of you as she finally captured your lips in her own.

butterflies exploded in their stomachs as the kiss grew longer and sweeter with every fleeting second that passed. alessia's breathe hitched slightly as she felt a warm hand slide into her own, you intertwining your fingers with hers as your other arm wrapped around her neck.

and in that very moment, everything felt right.

both of you eventually needed to pull away for air, alessia rolling off of you as you both lay in silence, hands still tightly intertwined in the small space that sat between you.

"go on a date with me?" alessia asked suddenly, cheeks bright red as she nervously awaited your answer, unable to hold back her true feelings toward you any longer.

"i'd love to lessi."

sixteen years old; the first date

alessia nervously drummed her fingers on her thighs as she spared a glance at you across the table from her, your eyes drawn down to the menu in front of you as the striker shakily exhaled.

"you alright?" you asked softly, sending her a smile as she quickly nodded, picking up the menu and covering her face which she was certain was bright red.

the action made you smile to yourself, this nervous, awkward and very clearly flustered side of alessia not one you'd really gotten much insight into over the years. instead you'd always been stuck with the cocky charmingly over confident blonde who seemed to all but disappear tonight.

the two of you were out for dinner, for your first official date since the kiss just a week and a half ago. since then you'd celebrated your sixteenth birthday, finally again the same age as your best friend, the two of you celebrating with your families.

things had been a little different since the kiss, you both danced around your feelings and interactions as if they were all suddenly new again, trying your best to navigate the obvious shift in your relationship with one another.

though aware that it was her who asked you on a date alessia had spent far too long overthinking what to do, eventually deciding the two of you should just get dinner at paradiso's.

the restaurant was frequented by your families often enough that it wouldn't raise any alarm bells the two of you going together, you both establishing on that same night as the kiss that you wanted to keep this between the two of you for the time being.

"are we ready to order girls?" john, the server who'd known you both since you were kids came over with a kind smile, alessia looking at you who nodded. the two of you made your orders and john disappeared to get them started.

"so, how was training?" you asked with a polite smile, having been trying all night to get the conversation flowing but each time something seemed to halter it, things fizzling out as soon as they started.

"yeah good, fine. the usual." alessia nodded, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants which didn't go unnoticed, none of her out of character behaviours did.

"lessi, hey." you called out softly, gaining her attention as you grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing it gently and interlocking your fingers. "why are you so nervous? it's just me." you whispered, the blonde nodding.

"i know, this just feels...so different." alessia sighed as you had to hum in agreement, things did feel a bit forced and awkward and you weren't really sure how to address it. a few moments of silence passed as you held on tightly to the strikers hand.

and then, everything suddenly clicked.

"can i say something?" you blurted out, gaining alessia's attention which had wandered to counting how many red tiles there were on the mosaic wall in the corner. "of course." alessia assured with a nod.

"i don't think this is going to work." you admitted quietly, alessia frowning and snatching back her hand. "no no sorry! gosh i could have worded that better." you blushed realising how it was coming across to her.

"not this-" you gestured between the two of you. "-this!" you instead gestured around the restaurant. "i think we know each other too well to do the whole conventional first date thing." you smiled as alessia visibly de-tensed, nodding firmly in agreement.

"do you want to just get the food to go? go back to mine and watch a movie?" you offered as alessia agreed, turning in her seat to gesture toward john.

within half an hour you were back at your family home, your dad having picked you both up, stealing a piece of pizza as his payment for the ride before leaving you both to it, your mum and siblings out for the evening.

once the two of you had eaten and decided on a movie you excused yourself to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes to change into and encouraging alessia do the same.

when you returned she'd donned one of your hoodie and a pair of her football shorts she'd found laying around which she'd left here before. "wondered where that went." the blonde laughed seeing you exit the bathroom in her shirt, which hung down just above your knees.

"you left it here, it becomes partially mine." you shrugged with a smile, causing the blonde to roll her eyes. "i'll keep that in mind." she teased as you sat back down next to her, clicking play.

it only took a few minutes before alessia's hand found yours, intertwining your fingers with a shy smile as you kissed her cheek. another twenty or so minutes passed then alessia started to move around a bit, seemingly restless.

"you alright?" you asked, glancing to her as she stopped. "would you maybe want to..." she gestured between her legs as now you smiled shyly, nodding. the two of you moving around a little you found your back resting against her front, caged in by her long tanned legs either side of your body.

"is this okay?" alessia asked quietly, snaking her arms around your stomach and resting her chin on your shoulder. "it's perfect." you promised with a soft smile, settling into her hold, your hands coming to rest on top of hers.

"you know..." you spoke up around a half hour later, growing quite bored of the movie you'd both picked. "mm?" alessia hummed as you turned to look up at her. "if this is like a date, we could maybe kiss a little." you suggested hesitantly, unsure if you were going a little too fast.

"yeah?" alessia asked, features filling with surprise as you nodded. "if you wanted to." you corrected, cheeks blushing slightly making the taller girl smile. "i do." she promised, squeezing your hands and leaning down a little.

"may i kiss you please?" she asked gently, breath ghosting your lips as her eyes roamed your face for any signs of discomfort, coming up empty as you nodded.

"yes you may."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part eight

#alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #alessia russo

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suugarbabe · 9 months

Note

Hello, I absolutely adore your writing!

Can I please request Mattheo Riddle with prompts 1 and/or 20? Preferably a fluffy ending.

I would love to read this (but absolutely no pressure) so thanks in advance and I´m already looking forward to reading more from you!

(1) thank you so much 🥺 you are far too kind

(2)I couldn't think of a way for these two to be together so I decided to just make two different blurbs for ya

[20] “How long has it been since someone’s hugged you?”

You let out one continuous groan from the moment you walked through the portrait hole until you got to the sofas in front of the fireplaces. The only person in your friend group that was present in the common room was Mattheo. You dropped your school bag on the ground at his feet as you stood in front of him. He leaned back looking up at you from the couch, small smirk on his lips, “Long day?” You nodded, “Worst day so far ever.” He cracked his knuckles in a playful manner, “How can I help, darling? Need me to kick someone’s arse?” You shook your head, instead holding both arms out in front of you, making grabby hands toward him like a toddler. He quirked an eyebrow in return, “What are you doing?” You huffed out loud, “Hug me, Teo.” He waved his hand at you, “No, I don’t do that.” You slouched down on the couch next to him, a pout on your lips, “Theo would hug me.” “Then go find Theo; I don’t do hugs,” Mattheo rolled his eyes, picking back up the book he was reading before you walked in. You were slightly irritated now, Mattheo’s attitude adding to your bad day. You nabbed the book from his hands, him turning his head slowly to face you, face blank, “What do you think you’re doing?” You closed his book, sitting it on the opposite side of you, “How long has it been since someone’s hugged you, Mattheo?” He furrowed his brow, “I just told you I don’t do that.” You weren’t understanding him, “Are you saying you’ve never hugged anyone?” He sighed, lying his head on the back of the couch before facing you again, “I’m sure I have before, I just don’t remember the last time I did it, don’t really see the point. You’re just grabbing onto someone for like thirty seconds then letting go. How does that even make you feel better?” You shook your head in disbelief, getting up from the couch, “Stand up.” You pulled on his arm to follow you, “Stand up Mattheo, now.” He stood, rolling his eyes with arms down at his sides, “What are we doing?” “I’m going to give you a proper hug, and you’re going to understand why hugging is so important.”

He stood still, letting you maneuver his arms open as gave him instructions, “Okay, seeing as you’re like six inches taller than me, I’m going to wrap my arms around your middle. Then, you’re going to wrap your arms around my shoulders. Feel free to nuzzle your face into my hair, I used new conditioner this morning and my hair smells amazing.” He laughed softly at your instructions, reluctantly agreeing. You gave him a smile before taking a step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle like you said you would. You nuzzled your face into his chest, breathing in his scent of fresh earth and spice. It took Mattheo a moment to react before following your directions, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He buried his face into the top of your head like you suggested, taking a deep breath. You weren’t wrong about your conditioner, it smelled so good to him; like honey and mandarin oranges. You squeezed him a little tighter, and after a moment you felt him take a deep breath and pull you even closer. “Someone wake Salazar from the dead is Mattheo hugging somebody?” The two of you pulled apart quickly sitting back down on the couch. Mattheo’s cheeks dusted pink and Pansy and Theo walked up to you both. Theo looked almost offended as he sat down across from you. You shrugged your shoulders, “I had a bad day, you weren’t here.” Theo brushed it off, lightly teasing you. Pansy and Theo dragged on about how good their days were as Mattheo leaned in to whisper to you, “You know you have to hug me every day now.”

[1] “I like how good your hand looks in mine”

You and Mattheo laid on the couch in front of the fire. You were nestled in between his legs, your back to his front. You were playing with the rings on his fingers and you guys listened to Theo drag on about his latest crush. Mattheo was responding to him when necessary, but you were drowning him out. You were obsessed with Mattheo’s hands. The scars that ran along his knuckles from the many fights he had, the perfection of his tanned skin, and don’t get you started on his rings. The one on his middle finger was your favorite. It was a thick silver ring, with a signet of a snake on it. A dark emerald stone as the background to the serpent. You laced your fingers with his, your black manicure on display against the back of his hand. You felt him smile as he kissed your cheek, whispering in your ear, “You know I like how good your hand looks in mine.”

#prompt asks #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x y/n #nonny bo bonny

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pinguwrites · 7 months

Text

You Set My Soul Alight | Jonathan Crane

Pairing -> sub!jonathan crane x villain!reader

Summary -> You and Jonathan Crane have always been at odds. He's an arrogant asshole and you're a sarcastic shit, and no matter what you always find a way to bump heads. The worst part about it is that deep down you find him brilliant and attractive and utterly intoxicating. One day, Crane comes to you with a plea to enticing to resist, and you find this the perfect opportunity to put him in his place.

Warnings -> smut (minors dni), enemies with feelings, sub!Jon acting like a brat, swearing, dom!reader, degradation kink, ma'am kink, unprotected sex, edging, hair pulling, ball slapping, slapping in general, if you squint real hard Jonathan's lowkey a little sexist, bruce wayne is a playboy, reader's kinda a simp

Word count: 5k

Disclaimer: The Dark Knight trilogy/DC characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Jonathan Crane glared at you, his piercing blue eyes filled with a layer of contempt and almost embarrassment like he was regretting this entire endeavor. It was delightful, seeing him in this state, and you made sure to enjoy every second of it — the way his cheeks were tinting a light pink, his muscles tensed up and his tone coming out a desperate yet still arrogant plea. Moments like these were rare, and you were ready to savor and drag them out every chance you got.

“I need your help,” he repeated, his tone distasteful like he was swallowing a bitter pill. “I told you, I need more money for my experiments, but I can’t do it without any funding. Wayne Enterprises is hosting a gala next week. All the richest of the city will be there and all of them are looking to donate. Charity, science, whatever will make them look good. I know you’re going, so I’m asking — as polite as I can be — please, get me an invite.”

You tilted your head to the side, eyes trailing off to look at some random painting on the wall. You briefly wondered how he got past your home security, but after a few seconds, you focused your attention back on him. “Sorry, what did you say? Can you repeat that?” you said with a slight grin.

Jonathan pursed his lips. “Don’t be clever with me.” But then he shakes his head and lets his serious facade go. “We both know you have the connections to score another invite . . . Please, my darling.”

Your heart fluttered at the nickname, the way it always did when he called you that. You wondered if he knew just how much you enjoyed it.

“I like it when you beg, it’s always been a good look on you.”

Jonathan smiles. A mock smile.

“Well, it’s true. No point in getting all upset.” You shrug, heading over to your kitchen to get some iced coffee for the both of you. “Tell me, why should I help you? Why should I help the man who has made it his mission to offend me every time we speak?”

You may have been a little unfair in saying that. Sure, he was a brat, but so were you. In fact, ever since you two met you had always been at each other’s throats, demeaning one another, insulting everything from intellect to personality to looks. You doubt your paths would have ever crossed had it not been for your good friend Harley, who introduced you both one fateful summer evening.

You don’t know what went wrong that day. Maybe it was the weather, the exceptionally hot wind that only frequented Gotham once every couple of years, the ones that made the city cranky and sweaty, or perhaps it was simply a bad first impression, the ones that just happened every once in a while. It had happened far too long ago to remember what it was that made you dislike Jonathan so much in the first place, and you were sure it didn’t matter. According to everyone who knew him, he had always been an ass, but he was good company once you got to know him.

Maybe he was. You wanted to figure that out, to peel away the layers of armor. You could be friends, lovers even. He could be yours. Yours to do whatever you wanted with. Yours to put in place, because god knows he needed it.

You weren’t sure when you started to think like this. To grow an obsession, but you did, and you couldn’t stop your feelings now. You didn’t want to stop. Loving Jonathan was too addictive, no matter how much he pretended to hate you — because you knew he didn’t actually hate you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t stop in once every while, under the pretense of snarky put-downs or brags. He wouldn’t graze his fingers with yours when walking by, and he wouldn’t ask your friends (namely Harley) what you did, what you liked, and what you talked about.

“Because deep down,” Jonathan answered, following you into the kitchen, “you know I’m brilliant, and you know I deserve your help.” He accepted the coffee, taking a small sip before continuing, “But you’re too prideful to admit it.”

“Maybe I am, but that’s not a good reason. Deserve isn’t enough, Crane. At least not for me. I know you can do better than this, convince me. That mouth must be good for something.”

Jonathan paused, his tongue briefly sweeping over his lower lip, making it glisten in the light of the lamp. You weren’t sure if the brief silence was because he got flustered, or he was just thinking. “Then do it because you want to,” he finally said. “Because you know my research is important and you care for it, enough to do me this one simple favor.”

“I don’t know . . .” you trailed off in a teasing tone.

It seemed like Jonathan was getting annoyed again. “My dear, won’t you help me?”

“I’m still thinking.”

He groaned. “Pretty please?”

You let out a little sigh, barely audible. “I will. For you.”

That last part had intended to come off as flirtatious and pretentious, but instead, it was soft and delicate, so vulnerable it took you off guard.

“Thank you,” he said, setting his glass down. He had finished all of the coffee, quickly enough so that there were still ice cubes lying on the bottom of the glass. “I’ll pick you up, around four. Who knows, maybe we’ll even have some fun.”

And that was it. He left through your front door without saying anything else, leaving you with thoughts of the gala and what dress you were going to wear.

That next week you had settled on one and bought yourself a burgundy dress, a beautiful shade of red, one like expensive wine or fresh blood, a color that you knew looked good on you. It was a deep cut that went through the valley of your breasts, but if you pressed your arms inwards just slightly, which you fully intended to do, they would push up. It was a look classy enough for a gala, but still seductive enough to garner attention.

Originally, you weren’t going to attend the function at all. This kind of stuff had always been boring for you, even as a child who was forced to go, but if Jonathan was going on your behalf then you sorta had to and definitely wanted to.

A ring sounded through your house. He was here.

You opened the door and took a deep breath once you saw Jonathan. He was dressed in a neat suit, but not like the suit he was wearing when you last saw him. This one was charcoal black, silky, and smooth, with a white handkerchief in his outer breast pocket. His shoes were the same color and looked like they had just been shined, and in his hand was a bouquet of red roses.

“For you,” he said, placing them in your hands. His eyes swept over your figure, and his mouth parted for a moment. “It matches.” You huffed, secretly flattered. “But it’s such a shame.” You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.”

You blinked, and then tossed the flowers to the side, letting them fall into a patch of dirt (you were definitely going to pick them up later). “Like you’re such a piece of work.”

“I am,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Men and women love me.”

Despite how attractive you found him, you really didn’t believe that. You were sure his attitude warded most people off, and besides, he was an introvert and a criminal. Dating wasn’t just something people like him did often.

“We’ll see. This gala will be filled with attractive young bachelors. Get one interested in you and I’ll admit you're handsome,” you challenged.

“Admit?” He laughed, a beautiful laugh. “Admit implies that you already find me handsome, you just don’t want to confess so.”

This man needed to be slapped. He needed to be given a good, hard hit across the face.

“You know what? I feel like being alone tonight. I think I’ll just go to the gala without you.”

You were about to close the door, intending to head to your garage, but Jonathan grabbed your wrist and pulled you outside, shutting the door behind you.

“No takebacks. You promised. Where’s your honor?”

“Honor?” You scoffed. “I’m a killer, what did you expect?”

Jonathan must have really thought that you were going to leave because he gripped your wrist tighter. “I’m sorry,” he quickly said. “I’ll be good tonight.” He placed his index finger to his thumb with his free hand and made a zipping motion across his lips. “See?”

“You better be. I’m doing you a favor here. Now, come inside, we’ll take my car—”

“I have a car,” Jonathan said. “I even got us a driver.”

You took a peek over his shoulders. Sure enough, there was a fancy car waiting in the driveway, engine still on. It was difficult to see through the windows but you could make out the faint outline of a man in the driver’s seat.

“If you insist.”

He held out his arm for you to take, and while you did want to, you instead shoved it away. For a moment, you swore a flicker of hurt crossed his face, but it was gone too fast for you to be sure it was even there at all.

“Where’s my invite?” he asked.

“You don’t have one. You’re going as my plus one.”

“As your date?”

“It’s not a date. I thought you said you were going to be a good boy. What’s with all this complaining?”

“I’m not complaining, I was expressing my feelings. You should work on that. As a psychiatrist, I recommend—”

“—I recommend you shut the fuck up.”

Jonathan put his hands up, surrendering, but he did so beaming.

It hadn’t taken too long to get to the party. Traffic was high as always, but time seemed to be flowing faster than ever, despite you and Jonathan staying silent.

When you arrived there was a line of cars. Wayne Manor, a building you had only been to twice before, was still as impressive as you remember. It was a collection of elegant architecture and stonework, with a large wooden entrance that opened up to a main hall. The size of the driveway and front lawn was a bit unnecessary, at least to you, but what else could you expect from old money?

After getting out of the car you were greeted by cameras and reporters, lights flashing in your eyes, but you didn’t bother with them.

Jonathan reached out his hand, and this time you did take it — but only because everyone was watching, and if you pushed him away it would have caused an unnecessary scene. Jonathan’s driver drove the car away for parking and you both walked inside.

The inside was spacious, with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and people dressed classy, with gloves and diamond earrings, all mingling and chatting with each other about the stock market or their annoying ex-spouse or how it was such a bother when their vacation to Switzerland had to be canceled because of work. There was a tray of snacks and waiters walking around with luxurious drinks, something you immediately took advantage of.

“Thank you, sir,” you said politely, taking a glass of champagne, but before you could take a sip someone called out your name.

You turned around to see Bruce Wayne himself waving over to you, a boyish charm about him. He had two women on his arms, models or prostitutes, or both, you couldn’t tell, but they were drop-dead gorgeous.

Your parents did business with him, and as a result, you met him at a young age. You were never really buddy best friends, but you went to the same school and that was enough for him to invite you to all his parties and greet you as though you were a family friend.

“You know Bruce Wayne?” Jonathan whispered, but before you could answer Bruce approached you both.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while,” he said. “This is Mila and Stephanie. Say hi ladies.” They giggled and waved as he gave the back of your hand a little kiss. “Gorgeous girl. You should wear these outfits more often, you truly look stunning.”

You let him put his arm around your waist, enjoying the compliment.

“Oh, no,” you said modestly. “It’s just a dress.”

Jonathan chuckles. “Ah, don’t be like that, my darling. You look exquisite.”

You all but glared at him. Now he said you looked nice.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.” Bruce removed his arm from around your waist and held it out to shake Jonathan’s hand.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane,” he responded, a little tense. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Jonathan’s actually doing some research into brain chemistry,” you said.

“Really? Tell me about it, Dr. Crane,” Bruce said, flashing a charming smile.

“I would,” Jonathan responded, turning to you, “but I don’t wanna bore my girl.”

“Your girl?” Bruce repeated, eyes glancing at you. “ You’re a lucky guy. Tell me how scored such a beauty like her?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” Jonathan reached around and put his hand on your shoulder. “She was practically falling all over me.”

That was true, but your jaw still clenched. “He likes to exaggerate,” you told Bruce with a little laugh.

“Well, if you ever want to change things up a little, I’m right here.” Bruce winked comically, leaving with his girls.

You could tell Bruce wasn’t joking. It sounded like a serious offer, only told in a joking format so as to not rile Jonathan up, as he was under the impression Jonathan was your actual boyfriend.

“You’re a jealous mongrel,” you told Jonathan once Bruce was out of sight. You both walked over to a more secluded corner. “Can’t imagine the idea of having to share, huh? Had to go and make up stories?”

Jonathan scowled. “He was shameless around you. Be grateful I warded him off,” he said arrogantly. “And it’s not like you guys would have worked out. With what your hobby and all.”

You didn’t say anything. Jonathan was jealous, huh? You know felt a sudden urge to go after Bruce, get a little drunk, and follow him back to his room. It’s not like he wasn’t handsome, he was the most eligible bachelor in the city. And you did like him. He was funny and nice. Plus, you two had known each other for a long while. What a fun trope, especially if it was making Jonathan mad.

“A good fuck needs to work out only for the night.” You shrugged.

“You—you can’t,” Jonathan sputtered out. “You’re here with me, not him.”

“I don’t see the problem. I got you in the door and now you don’t need me anymore. What’s wrong if I have some fun?”

“You can’t.”

You waved him off, though you were enjoying the way he was pouting.

“Brat,” you muttered under your breath.

“I’m not a brat.” He gave a dry chuckle. “Excuse me for wanting to spend the night with you.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?” You grinned devilishly. “Act like you want nothing more than to be here.”

Jonathan’s breathing hitched. Yours did too.

“You want it?”

“Don’t be scared.”

After you said that he didn’t hesitate to lean forward to give you a hard kiss, bringing his hand around the back of your head to push you both even closer together. He pulled away, his face still close to yours.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, like that,” you breathed out.

“I can give you more,” he whispered in your ear, his breath almost ticklish. “I know you want it. Been fantasizing about me all this time, hmm?”

You smiled coyly.

“For me to bend you over like the whore you are—”

“—Careful, Crane. I might just have to slap you.”

“Say it. Say you want me to fuck you. Fucking say it—”

You took a quick glance around the room to see if anyone was looking, which they thankfully weren’t, and then gave Jonathan a quick, harsh slap to the face.

The force of it made his neck turn, and his cheeks immediately turned red. He stayed silent for a moment, looking up at you through thick eyelashes, eyes narrowed in lust. It was all the conformation you needed to grab his chin, lift his face up, and give him another slap.

Before you could say anything else he pressed his lips up against you again, pressing you up against the wall passionately.

You backed away, and he furrowed his eyebrows, but all you did was grab his hand, feeling a frenzy of desire take over you. “Let’s go.”

You dragged him through the sea of people and out a backdoor. There were a couple of people walking around in the garden, but you managed to find a place secluded enough for you and Jonathan. The ground was grassy and soft, and no one was walking by. Even if they did, they’d have to be purposefully looking for you two to see you both behind the trees and flowers.

“Lay down,” you ordered.

He grinned but did as you asked. “Here? Outside? You’re such a naughty girl.”

“Do you wanna wait until we get home?”

“No,” he said, a little too eagerly. “I want it now.” He sat up and tugged on your dress, running his hand up your leg. “You’re so soft,” he murmured, planting a few wet kisses on your thigh.

You sighed contently, enjoying the affection he was giving you. This moment felt like a haze, like the world was just slipping by and you were stuck in time, a feeling that made you wonder if this was a dream or not. The evening sunset and dark sky weren’t helping either. It all felt perfect, too perfect.

“Mmm.” Jonathan reached up and hooked his fingers into your underwear. You snapped out of your trance and swatted his hand away.

“Getting a little touchy there, aren’t you?”

He smirked, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. “Just tryna please you, darling.”

You thought for a moment, then decided that you would let him eat you out.

“Alright then. Please me, Dr. Crane.”

Jonathan’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the name, savoring the way it rolled so delicately off your tongue. He lifted up your dress and pulled down your panties. You kicked them off to the side and rested your dominant leg on his shoulder.

He pushed his finger against your folds, making a humming sound. “You’re so wet, darling.”

He leaned forward to suck on your clit roughly.

You lightly gasped at the pleasant sensation, bucking your hips into his face accidentally. You had meant to show more control, but how could you when Jonathan was so hungrily lapping? burying his face into your pussy like he was starved, passionately alternating between licking and sucking.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

His fingers, which had been gripping your hips, moved upward. As he continued to press his tongue against your clit his finger gently prodded your entrance, making sure that you were ready. He pushed his finger, curling it slightly.

You stifled your moans, not wanting a passerby to catch you two in the act, but you were finding it difficult. He kept thrusting his finger in and out of you, adding another one just a minute later.

You threw your head back, eyes shut. You held his head for balance and relaxed, letting yourself go into a peaceful bliss. But then you felt Jonathan’s teeth nip your bud, biting into it deliberately, and you yelped.

Gripping his hair, you forced him to look at you. His mouth and nose were covered in your wetness, and his lips were curving up into a delightful smile.

“What was that for?”

He shrugged. “Mmm, I couldn’t help it, Ma’am.”

Instead of reprimanding him, you took the selfish route and pushed his face in between your legs, grinding onto his lips until you felt that familiar sense of elated happiness. You came all over him, your brain shutting off, or rather, getting overloaded at that euphoric, all-consuming release.

You let go of Jonathan’s hair, but he didn’t pull away. He licked up your cum, making your nerves feel overstimulated, but after he was satisfied, he stopped.

“You like that?” he asked.

“F-fuck, yeah.”

You grabbed your panties and put them back on, much to Jonathan’s dismay.

“Where are you going?” He got up, using his sleeve to wipe off the remaining juices on his face. You could see a tent, his cock poking out from under his pants.

“Home, of course. And you’re coming with me.”

He shook his head vehemently, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his hard cock against your body. “Let’s finish this here. I can’t wait any longer. Don’t make me wait.”

“If you’re a good boy, you’ll wait.”

“I can’t,” he bitched desperately, hurriedly pulling down his pants. “I won’t. I’ve waited too fucking long.”

You grabbed his cock through the fabric, squeezing it tight in his hands.

His face contorted to one of pleasure and pain. “Huh!”

“You think you can just get what you want? After you’ve such a dick? Oh, ‘she was practically falling all over me’. ‘Such a pretty little dress wasted on such an ugly little thing.’”

“C’mon, I didn’t mean it! You looked so beautiful, I was just trying to make you mad. Be nice . . . Pleaseee?”

You gripped it tighter and he whimpered. “See how pathetic you get the moment I show an ounce of authority? How you start to beg? If I say something you do it. Do you understand?” He didn’t say anything, his lips still parted in pain. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes!” he choked out.

You let go. “Good boy. Now go call your driver and ask him to pick us up ‘round back. Unless you want everyone to see your erection?”

You gestured to the front of the manor, where through the bushes you could still see people enjoying the party.

“No, no.” He called his driver, trying his best to cover his erection by interlocking his hands in front of his waist. “You’re a cruel goddess.”

While you two waited for the driver, you peppered sweet kisses along Jonathan’s neck, but when he arrived, you stopped, making him groan at the loss.

Throughout the drive back to your place, you ghosted your fingers over Jonathan’s lap, occasionally resting your hand on his length. Once the driver dropped you both off, you wasted no time in pushing him to your room.

He took off his clothes as did you, his white cock springing up furiously. It was just the right size, bigger and longer than average, almost so that you worried about having to fit it inside you.

His figure was lanky, but still muscled, just the way you thought it would be. You placed your fingers on his chest, twisting his nipples. He shuddered and took off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. You shoved him down on your bed and he immediately spread his legs, giving you perfect access.

“Want me to suck you off, Jon?”

“Yes!” he said impatiently. “Just do it.”

You spanked his balls with your hand, carefully watching the way they bounced ever so slightly.

“Nghh! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Do it whenever you feel like.”

Despite his words, you could see him waiting anxiously for you to touch him.

You did so, kissing the tip of his head and running your tongue through the slit, tasting the salty precum he was leaking. He hissed when you took his entire length. “Ah.”

You gripped your thumb so you wouldn’t gag and took him in all the way, hollowing out your cheeks. He thrusted up, deepthroating you for a hot second before he placed his hips firmly against the bed, not wanting to do anything that would upset you.

“So—so warm,” he stuttered out. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt, if your mouth is this fucking good.”

You would have said something, but your mouth was filled, busy bobbing up and down. He squirmed and moaned, shamelessly being as loud as he could. You could feel yourself getting wet again, but you controlled your urges for the sake of Jonathan.

He brushed your hair out of the way, scrunching up his face. “M’gonna — hnghhh — m’gonna come!”

That was when you pulled off of him.

It took a moment for him to realize what you were doing, but when he did, he wasted no time in complaining.

“No,” he mewled, tearing up. “I’ve been such a good boy. Such a good boy.”

“Have you?” You giggled.

“I need you, I need this,” he moaned. “I’ve wanted you so bad — that’s why I came to you, that’s why I came to you and no one else. I didn’t even need the sponsors that bad, I just wanted to see you. I . . . I’m in agony,” he continued dramatically.

“That’s sad.”

More tears ran down his cheek at your nonchalant words. He sniffled. “Please, stop that and just make me come!”

“Okay. I think you deserve it.”

But instead of putting your mouth back on him, you sunk onto his cock, slowly at first, so your pussy could get used to the size.

“Oh, fuck,” Jonathan cursed, placing one of his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. His other hand went up to play with your breasts, cupping and kneading them like they were pieces of dough.

You started bouncing, a string of incoherent words and moans leaving your mouth. Jonathan sat up and wrapped you in his arms, kissing down your neck as you moved.

“You feel so good,” you murmured, clenching around his cock. “I s-should have done this sooner.”

“Should’ve,” Jonathan agreed. “But — ah — we can always do this more often, yeah?”

Too blissed out to respond with words, you just nodded your head, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

It didn’t take long for both of you to come after that. His hot load spurted inside of you and you came again, but this time on his cock.

He collapsed, exhausted from the sensations.

You slowly got up, letting out a little wince as you felt his length leave you. You cuddled up beside him, caressing his cheek, wrapping you both in the blanket. He looked a little tired, and you didn’t blame him. So were you.

“You set my soul alight,” he said softly. “You always have.”

You wanted to ask him how deep his feelings ran, if this was just sex, or if it was something more, but when he fell asleep on your breast, you dropped the idea. He trusted you enough to let his guard down around you, and for now, that was more than enough.

The rest of the night was spent holding each other in your arms as you slept. When you woke up in the morning, he was still there, snoring softly like he was a peaceful angel.

You pulled him closer to you. “I’m never letting you go,” you murmured darkly. “Never.”

#Jonathan Crane #Jonathan Crane x reader #Jonathan Crane x y/n #Jonathan Crane x you #the dark knight trilogy #fanfiction #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x y/n #scarecrow x you #cillian murphy #pinguwrites

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ageingfangirl2 · 7 months

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If I Have To Ask You One More Time! Zoro x Reader (OPLA)

y/n is in charge of cleaning the ship and a certain swordsman makes their job just that bit harder. Zoro x Female Reader.

Y/N

It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the waves had been smooth, and you'd docked on a small island to restock before heading towards The Grand Line. You'd decided to stay on the ship to get some odd jobs done, in particular, a good mop of the deck before heading inside to clean. You'd been on the ship a couple of months but you knew Nami appreciated having a) another girl around and b) a clean ship because guys could be messy. Zoro was the worst offender, after fights letting blood from his swords drip all around the ship which meant more work for you.

After mopping the entire deck, you head to your hammock to take a short nap before continuing your tasks. However, a loud thud on the deck directly above you startles you awake, because you didn't expect the others back for a few more hours. You grab your knives just in case someone else is on your ship and quietly make your way back to the deck.

You spot drops of blood from the gangplank and follow them towards the kitchen, nostrils flaring enraged because you'd just mopped and you knew who was responsible.

'ZORO!' you growl, as you rush into the kitchen.

The swordsman looks up at you blankly from where he is sitting at the table cleaning blood off his swords, 'you okay y/n? something wrong?' he asks, oblivious to the fact he is the problem.

You take one of your knives and plunge it into the wooden table glaring at him, 'If I have to clean one more bloodstain from the deck I'm going to kill someone, I'm going to kill you Zoro.'

Zoro tilts his head, eyes a little wide at your raised voice, 'sounds a little counterproductive y/n.'

You pull out the knife and shake your head, 'poison would do the trick.'

You didn't like getting angry, and now your emotions were taking over making you upset at how oblivious Zoro was to your hard work. So you storm out of the kitchen, wanting to be alone.

ZORO

y/n didn't get mad, so their outburst at me took me by surprise, and then they left without another word. What were they going on about when they talked about blood, murder and poison? Girls were confusing, maybe Nami could shed some light.

TIME SKIP

I pull Nami aside when she returns, and see her staring at the blood on the deck with a frown, 'I thought y/n mopped the deck.'

I shrug my shoulders, 'I guess it was wet when I came back.'

Nami looks up at me and I explain the encounter with y/n, but what she does next annoys me because she slaps me across the back of my head, 'You're an idiot Zoro. y/n has taken it upon themselves to keep this ship clean and you continue to mess it up without thinking about their feelings. Almost like you forget they are even a part of the crew. I'm surprised it took them this long to snap.'

I rub my head after the scolding. I guess I could get lost in my own world. Nami was right because y/n was always quiet and always quick to help I might have taken them for granted, but I had to show each crew member respect and that included y/n.'

Nami goes off and I head below deck to y/n's little space to apologise. I never wanted anyone to be mad or upset because of me, and I guess I was thankful for y/n making the ship a nicer place to be.

'Zoro, what are you doing here?' y/n asks, sitting up in their hammock with puffy eyes.

'I'll try and remember to clean my swords before I come back on the ship, or clean up after myself if I make a mess. I'm sorry, I respect you and am thankful for all that you do for us,' I ramble, all my words coming out at once.

It wasn't like me to ramble, I was reserved and stoic, but I never liked seeing girls cry. Not wanting to be here any longer I turn to leave, but a hand grabs my wrist stopping me in my tracks.

'Thank you for apologising Zoro, I know it's hard for you so this will stay between the two of us,' y/n says softly and I feel the tension leave my body because y/n was trustworthy.

I click my tongue, 'You might want to talk Nami out of telling the others.'

y/n nods and starts to drag me back to the deck, 'I'll talk to Nami and you take this.'

They thrust a mop at me and wink before skipping off to find the navigator. I had to mop the deck quickly before the guys saw me and asked questions.

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kasagia · 3 months

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Lovers to strangers

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Lantsov princess! reader Summary: The worst thing that can happen is to go from a passionate, ardent feeling to cold indifference. Turning the people you held dearest into strangers. But could YOUR Aleksander ever be a stranger to you again? You have to choose what is more important to you. Ravka and the crown that is rightfully yours, or the man who trampled on your naive, young heart. The choice should be simple... right? Word Count: 8.9k Inspired by: Chance Peña - Lovers to strangers Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

The evenings at the Little Palace were your favourites.

Especially since, from the window of Aleksander's chambers, you had no view of the Grand Palace—your golden cage.

Princess of Ravka. A prisoner in her own country. Well... at least there was one place in the capital where you didn't feel like you were locked in.

Or rather, a bed...

"I can hear your toughts…" the man cuddling up to you mumbles into your collarbone. You can't help but giggle at the feeling of his soft lips brushing against your skin. The feeling of his rough beard gives you pleasant shivers.

"I thought Grisha couldn't read in minds… unless you have another special ability of which I don't know, my general." you say teasingly, stroking his hair.

You can't help but touch this dangerous man. Something has drawn you to him since the first day you came back to Os Alta after Nikolai's disappearance. And as you managed to get a taste of this incredible man, you wanted more and more.

"I have many things that you don't know yet, moya tsarevna. I am a danger. I will break your heart if you trust me so blindly."

"Saints, I love when you speak old Ravkan." you say, leaning in to kiss him again. "Besides, you can't break something that doesn't exist."

It doesn't take long for him to kiss you back. His hand is immediately on your check as he pushes you back on the pillows. He hoovers above you, his lips (far from being gently) moving against yours as his tongue is slipping into your mouth like a snake. He conquers you in every sense of the word.

"Aleksander..." you moan, brushing against him.

"Your grace." he says teasingly, and then completely moves away from you. You look at him furious and offended as the frustration grows inside you. "My little brat. She always has to have what she wants, right?"

"You should know better than to challenge me. I am the heir to the throne, your princess."

"If I remember correctly, you have two older brothers." he points out, placing soft kisses on your collarbone. His beard tickles gently, only further amplifying the fluttering butterflies in your stomach.

"If I remember correctly, I have a general of the Second Army as my secret lover. The Darkling. With your shadows by my side and our combined intelligence and manipulation skills? We are unstoppable."

"Who said I wouldn't betray you? That I wouldn't make myself tsar and take you as my concubine or mistress?" he asks darkly, smiling slyly at you. His pearly teeth gleam menacingly, only making you laugh.

"You won't. You love me too much… Besides…" you lean closer to him and put the dagger to his throat. He laughs a little as he notices that it is the weapon that he had hidden under his pillow. "I'm much more than just a pretty face and royal blood. If you betray me, nothing will stop me from making you my enemy. It works both ways, Aleksander. If you hurt me, I will hurt you back. I won't sit and cry over my fate. I am creating my legacy and future. Not any men."

"I see." he grabs you by your hips and pushes on the headboard of the bed. You moan as he takes the dagger from you and puts it on your throat. "But don't you think this is better? You under me, trembling with desire." he whispers seductively into your ear. And you almost surrender to his touch and the seductive tone of his voice. Almost...

"You don't want an obedient toy. You want an equal. Only I can be one." you say confidently as you two stare into each other's eyes. You both breathe fast and heavily. You reach your hand towards his and put it on the tip of the dagger. "You wouldn't drag me to your bed if you didn't see it. You despise my family, just as I do, and Ravkans, but here you are: in bed with the princess of Ravka. And we both know that is not all about power, connections, or being part of a greater plan, is it?"

He looks at you deeply, watching your every little reaction as he leans towards you. His shadows play around; a few of them are climbing onto the bed and gently brushing against you two. You tremble with pleasure as you feel them on your hot skin. You moan, pressing yourself against him. You feel the coldness of the metal against your skin, and a little drop of blood slowly falls down on your chest.

He throws the dagger away and uses his tongue to lick the trace of blood on your skin. He sucks up the little wound he made a few seconds ago. You see the shadows getting around you as he loses himself in you.

"You're mine, Aleksander." you whisper into his ear. "And we are all we need anyway. Only I am able to see and embrace the darkness within you." you feel his moan at your words before you hear it. You tremble at his reaction.

"You will regret that, Y/N." he warns, or rather anticipates. You see the sincerity and concern in his eyes as they talk about how you will inevitably abandon him.

"Maybe. But not now." you gasp and pull him to you as you two kiss greedily. His hand goes to your waist, pressing you closer to him. You shiver as you feel the cold metal of his claw ring against your skin. "Sasha..."

"Say it again." he demands. His dark eyes glow against the shadows swirling around you. You lift your hand to caress his cheek softly and tenderly. Your fingertips brush against his chin as you slowly slide your hand down to his neck to trace the hickeys you've already given him.

"Sasha..." you moan as his lips brush against your jaw to tease your neck with their softness and warmth.

"Again." another silent command as the shadows begin to surround you more and more.

"Sasha... moi souveryni... moi ottenok (my shadow)." he silences you with a hard, demanding kiss, tangling his large hand in the back of your head and positioning you to suit his needs as he deepens the kiss, searching for your tongue.

Yes... the darkness of his chambers was definitely your favourite place on earth.

"Are you mad?” you huff, glaring at your elder brother.

You sit in your deceased father's chambers, discussing Ravka's fate in whispers among the nobility. Your eldest brother, Vasily, is chatting with some of the nobles, hoping that he will gain their sympathy as he is going to take the throne after your father. Little did he know that you two had other plans for Ravka.

"What? Do you have a better idea? Mother is going crazy, Vasily wants to play king, and the Grishas are about to start a civil war on us. There's no other way."

"I didn't become a widow just to fawn over some man again. Especially not over him. Besides, isn't he having eyes only on that Sun Summoner of yours?" you ask, nodding towards Alina, who is forced (as Vasily's fiancée) to stand by his side and listen to all the nonsense the nobles say.

"I'm not telling you to marry him... well, at least that's not what plan A is. Just approach him. Find out what he wants and whether he's willing to make arrangements with us. After all, you used to talk often. Especially at night in his chambers."

"Nikolai Lantsov, our father is lying dead in a coffin and you dare to remind me who I visited at night and who I didn't?"

"Please, as if you ever cared about that disgusting pig, who unfortunately for us was our father. Besides, you'd be curious too if I suddenly broke up with the love of my life and let our father sell me into marriage with Shu. Which was very surprising for all of us. You loved Kirigan. I know you did. And he felt the same." you roll your eyes at him, wondering where the bastard got this information since he wasn't in the palace at that time.

"And now I hate him. No. That's too much to say. I don't know him. I don't care about him. He's a stranger for whom I feel absolutely nothing. A traitor to the nation and the crown." you say, not hiding the anger in your voice.

"Don't say that as if we weren't called like that by our countrymen and subjects. But since you don't feel anything towards him, then I guess you won't be offended if I tell you that I solemnly invited him to negotiations regarding a possible settlement and peace?"

"What?! What did you… He agreed?" you ask him, shocked and annoyed that, after dropping such a bomb on you, he doesn't even dare look you in the eyes.

"Yes. As a sign of good will, we exchanged prisoners. I gave him back the Grishas he wanted, except for Genya, of course; it took the three of us a very long time to clear her name and guilt about killing our father. It would be too suspicious if we let her go so... easily." he nodded towards Alina, who was giving you a desperate look and asking for help. She was on the other side of the room with Vasily, who desperately tried to... get closer to her. "Sorry, I have to play hero. I just wanted to let you know that he agreed. He's coming tomorrow, right after the funeral." he says, and he approaches Alina to save her from the company of your brother and the nobility... and in the process, he saves himself from your wrath.

You shift your gaze from him to your hands and nervously start picking at your nails. You haven't seen HIM since you left Ravka to marry the Prince of Shu Han. When he treated you so vilely, putting the Sun Summoner on his pedestal, he forgot about you.

And you promised yourself a long time ago that you wouldn't let anyone neglect, humiliate, or disregard you. Especially to someone who isn't worth it. Who chose to ignore you when he meant the world to you.

That's why you decided to do the same as him and slightly modify your plans. Unfortunately, your husband turned out to be an idiot who did not meet your expectations and would only interfere with your grand plan. It's fortunate that he died.

"My princess." Genya's voice breaks you out of your thoughts. You shift your gaze to the woman in the red kefta. "Can I ask you for a minute of your time?"

"Of course." you say, leaving the room with the redhead. "Any news from David?" you ask as the two of you walk down the hall.

The nobles who pass you throw unfavourable glances at Grisha next to you, but you don't pay them any attention, or if you do, you give them a look that makes them look away from you.

"It's as if… he wrote that they were leaving their hideout and heading towards the palace." she speaks so quietly that only you can hear her.

Many things have changed since the Darkling's small, and fortunately unsuccessful, show of strength. The Grisha divided; most of them followed their general, wanting to finally gain some rights for themselves, and some of them stayed on the side of Alina and the crown.

So you had to return to the country quite quickly and strengthen the contacts with your spies. Your late husband's family was quite reluctant to let you go. Especially his younger brother, who was the only heir to the crown after his death... you could say that you and Niklaus started getting along much better after your husband's death.

Genya was a new addition. You had a pretty close relationship even before hell broke out in Ravka. You trusted her... within reason. And you were grateful to fate that she didn't join Alina. You didn't like the Sun Summoner... and it's very possible that private grudges played a large part in your dislike of her.

"How many of them?" you ask as you enter your office. The guards give you a curt bow and close the door behind you.

"Not enough for him to think about any plans of attack. But you can never be sure. I heard he acquired a new skill. He creates monsters from shadows. The nichevo'ya or something like that."

"He must be stupid to attack the palace now. We'll deal with his new skills later. For now, we need to locate Baghra. Where is she being held? Is she being held at all, and if not, where is she hiding? This old hag is the key to all of this. We can't do anything without her; we know as much as five-year-olds about the fold, amplifiers, and merzost." you say, flipping through the pages on your desk.

"Alina and Mal are working on locating another amplifier. They're scheduled to leave soon."

"Impossible. They're not going anywhere. I will not risk the lives of our only Sun Summoner and Compass to Morozova's amplifiers. The Darkling is heading this way; his men and spies may be anywhere, and recently, the number of Fjerdan provocations on our border has tripled."

"They won't stay locked up here."

"I am aware of this. But they won't move from here in the next two weeks. Our priority is peace with either the Darkling or the Fjerdan. We cannot wage two wars at once—civil and with another country. It's best if there's none, but I guess it is not possible. We have shed too much blood in the fold itself; we need to end this centuries-old conflict and not escalate it, because Ravka won't take any longer what is happening here."

"About that… I doubt that General… Darkling will be willing to compromise." you sigh, knowing full well that she could probably be right.

"Then we'll have to remove him from the picture." you say slowly, wondering if you were really ready for this.

"You mean..."

"I do not know yet." you interrupt her, not quite sure what you're going to do. And even if you knew, you had no intention of revealing such plans to anyone. "It depends on what the situation requires of us. Alina is too young to be a general. She may be a symbol of hope and a new, better future, but she is not fit to lead an entire army. And the Darkling… is unpredictable and out of any control."

"You miss him, don't you?" her question slightly catches you off guard.

You tried your hardest not to think... about him. Or what could have been if things between you went differently. You simply couldn't afford it. You had to be strong for Ravka, your subjects, and your brothers. And thinking about Aleksander certainly wouldn't make your situation any better.

"I… I think I miss the idea of him that I created in my mind. I miss the man I thought I knew. But in the end, he turned out to be like… just like anyone else."

"Like all powerful men." she sums up your statement, staring at the window behind you.

"Exactly." you nod, thinking about what she must have gone through under your father. That's why, whoever would take the throne, you promised yourself that you would make sure that there would be a whole new era for Ravka. "Genya." you call after her before she leaves your office.

"Yes, my princess?"

"Make sure you make time for David. After this hell… you two deserve the best." you give her a small smile before sending her away. You sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead. There were so many things to plan and very little time.

But you can't help but think about Aleksander. There were rumours that the fold had destroyed it. That he had become crazy, ruthless, and devoid of any empathy or conscience.

Your hands involuntarily move to the cabinet and open it. You take the bracelet he gave you into your hands. Now you know that it had a special, rare piece of metal in it that allowed Durast to locate you from miles away—an ability Darkling must have used many times in the past. You made sure it was deleted, but... sentiment didn't let you throw it away. You don't know why. Or at least you don't want to admit to yourself this little weakness from the past.

"Why do you want to rule Ravka?" you frown at his question. You open your eyes and turn to the side to look at his face.

You took a little trip outside the palace. You were lying in a clearing in the forest on a picnic blanket. Your head was resting on Aleksander's stomach. One of his hands was lazily running through your hair, and the other was playing with your own hand.

"Why not? I would look nice on stamps and coins." you laugh carelessly, playing with his fingers.

"Answer the question." he says seriously, sitting up. Your head rests on his lap as he leans over you and looks at you with those piercing eyes of his, analysing your every little reaction.

"I don't want Ravka to look like it does now. Vasily is... like our father, conservative, without any new ideas, wanting to continue repeating established patterns. And Nikolai... is too controversial. He has revolutionary views, and the rule of both will end in a civil war. I don't want us to shed any more blood. Grisha and Ravkan... we are one. We are the same. Only you live a little longer and have additional benefits from your powers, but... it doesn't change the fact that we are born and die the same way. We believe in the same thing, and we want the same thing."

"Which is?" he asks, whispering, his dark eyes trained on you the entire time.

"Peace." you say, leaning back into him and closing your eyes. Sunlight filters through the treetops, illuminating your face. You sigh, wrapped in the warmth of your beloved Aleksander's arms and his scent. "Love." you add, opening your eyes and giving him a small, uncertain smile.

"You want to be loved?" he asks, disbelieving that someone like you, the daughter of the Lantsov family, could only want something so... simple. You always talked about taking power with ambition and fire in your eyes. He never thought that you didn't want it out of pure greed, but simply out of a desire to make Ravka better. Just like him.

"Everyone wants it. Even you, my mighty and scary shadow summoner." you snap him out of his thoughts by lifting your hand and caressing his bearded cheek. "And trust me when I say that I can give you all of the love of this world that you need."

"You don't know everything about me." he denies, knowing full well that you would run away from him, terrified, and that all your love for him would evaporate the moment you found out he was the Black Heret.

"You don't know everything about me either, sweetheart. I see your darkness. I see your struggles. You won't scare me away. You cannot. No amount of your shadows and the darkness of the past will do that." you promise, and he looks at you in shock. You push yourself up on your elbows and kiss him sweetly and lazily.

You act as if you have all the time in the world, and the only thing that matters is the two of you. And he allows himself to lose himself for a moment in this little fantasy you created with him in a forgotten clearing near the fountain dedicated to the Starless Saint.

"Eya fyela chi, moya tsarevna. For as long as I breathe. We shall rule together. Side by side." he whispers against your lips, and he's no longer sure who he's trying to fool. You or himself.

"I want nothing more, Aleksander." you reply, straddling him and cupping his neck as you pull him in for another kiss.

And he realises a very sad and bitter truth. That never before, in anyone else's arms, under anyone else's touches, kisses, and whispers of love and adoration, had he felt so happy and at peace as he did with you.

"Wow. Did Genya help you?" you snort at your brother's reaction as you enter the council room.

"What? Can't I dress nicely myself?" you mock him gently, laughing. You could slightly improve your appearance with the help of your favourite Grisha. After all, you had to show yourself to your ex somehow. And you were going to make sure the bastard would squirm, upset and mad that he wasn't with you anymore.

"Yes, you can, but you usually don't. Is this for a certain dark rebel general?" he teases with you, at which you roll your eyes.

"NO. And I wish you wouldn't insinuate such things. I'm not saying you're dressing up for the Sun Summoner or for that squaller of hers who's arguing with her all the time. Exactly! Who are you ultimately in love with? I haven't been able to keep up with the updates lately. You know. Saving my country from the fire of rebellion, and so on."

"You know what... I was going to wait here with you to spare you a one-on-one confrontation with our very peaceful and cute Darkling... BUT I remembered that Alina was waiting for me. Will you entertain your ex until we get here? Thanks, sister." he winks at you, smiling when he sees your expression fall, and he heads towards the exit, humming.

"Son of a bitch." you mutter under your breath as he walks past you.

"Yes, indeed!" he replies with an even bigger smile. You can only laugh and shake your head at him as he leaves you alone in the room.

You pace around the room, nervously picking at the bracelet on your wrist.

This was supposed to be the first time you would see him since you left for Shu Han and married their prince there. You heard that he changed after the events in the fold. That he went crazy about Alina and became obsessed with HIS Sun Summoner. His lust for power and greed only increased his dark madness, which made even his most trusted Grisha fear.

You heard rumours that he always had shadow monsters by his side and that he received a souvenir from his volcras in the form of black scars marring his face. Though you're not sure if anything can disfigure him.

Somehow, you feel him approaching. Before he touches the door handle, you know he's behind it. You lean against the table with Ravka's map on it and wait. Your heart beats rapidly as the silence of the room is broken by the sound of the door opening.

He doesn't come in right away. He freezes the moment he sees you. You take in his new appearance carefully, less surprised to see him than he is to see you. He has a few black scars on his face, his complexion is sallower, and his eyes are cloudy, probably from lack of sleep.

"Kirigan." you say, as he still doesn't make any moves towards you. The sound of your voice wakes him from his trance. He closes the door behind him, letting in a single shadow creature that follows silently behind him. You only stare at it for a moment before your gaze returns to his dark irises, which have been staring at you continuously since he opened the door.

"Princess." he watches you carefully, as if looking for any flaw—the slightest shake in your stoic and unflappable demeanour. Something that would prove to him that you're not better off without him. "I've heard about your husband's death. My sincere condolences." he says it in the most insincere tone you've ever heard.

"Thank you. It is very hard. He was such a good husband. Possibly the best I could come across." you say, smiling sadly, which only angers him more.

You see him press his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes never leave you, as he takes in every new detail in your appearance. His shadow monsters stand obediently behind him.

"Is this necessary?" you ask, nodding towards the shadow creature.

"Does it scare you? My Nichevo'ya are always with me." he says, as if to challenge you.

"No. Not at all. But now I don't wonder why no one else is besides it." your snide remark clearly hurts his pride. He takes a breath to respond, but the door opens again, and this time Alina and Nikolai join you.

"Aleksander." Sun Summoner greets him, and you roll your eyes. Of course he would tell her his real name. After all, it was his solnishka.

"Alina." he nods at her, taking his eyes off you. Because how could you compare to his sunshine?

"Nikolai. Welcome everyone. I guess we can start." Nikolai interjects jokingly, trying to break the obvious tension in the room. And by the way the three of you look at each other, you already know that this isn't going to be an easy negotiation at all.

"Egs." The man next to you hands you what you want. "Flour." He pours it in for you, which you let him do, considering that there wasn't a single bag in the Little Palace's kitchen and you were both too lazy to look for a bowl to measure it out with. Besides, you know it would end just like last time—a big war that the servants would have to clean up later. "Sugar." He hands you a clay jar, and you taste some of it before pouring it into the dough. You wince when you taste the salt, at which he laughs loudly. "Aleksander! What did I tell you last time?! I'm making you a birthday cake; you could at least not try to sabotage me." You roll your eyes at him and reach for the sugar yourself.

"I told you it wasn't necessary. There are other activities we could engage in." He murmurs against your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"If you had told me earlier, and not after the amazing sex, calling it the best birthday present you ever received, then we could. Now take your hands off me and help me mix the dough."

"But it's my birthday… shouldn't I be the one giving you orders?" He asks, giving you puppy-dog eyes. You break your facade and lean in, kissing him sweetly, only to pull away from him the moment his hands touch the hem of one his shirts he gave you to wear.

"Maybe next year. Now you better figure out how we can fit 200 candles in here for you." You pat his chest and try not to bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and starts mixing the dough. You watch him uninhibitedly, though, and the way the muscles in his arms move.

"Actually, a little more."

"How many?" You ask curiously, taking a sip of wine from his glass since yours is long gone.

"531." You choke on your alcohol, and he laughs, wiping the rest of the cake off his hands and patting you gently on the back.

"Saints, I'm sleeping with a fossil."

"Just half an hour ago, you were doing it very enthusiastically, I must say."He whispers seductively, pressing a kiss on your temple as you transfer the dough to the baking tin.

"Oh, shut up." you say, trying to resist him somehow, but you both know how it will end soon. "Because someone will come in here and see us."

With a wave of his hand, a thick layer of shadows appears around the door. The palace kitchen is immersed in a gentle darkness; the only source of light is the fire from the stove where the cake is baked and the window.

"We have a while before it's ready... can I play with my present again?" he asks, picking you up and sitting on the table, getting between your legs.

"Do not say that. It's creepy." you say, pushing his hands away from the ties of the shirt you're wearing. He's not at all put off and instead attacks your neck with kisses.

"It's my birthday; you told me I could do anything with you, moya tsarevna." He reminds you, biting lightly on the skin of your neck and making you moan.

You tangle your hands in his hair and push him away from you. The disgruntled frown on his face reminds you of the face of a grumpy child, but you can't laugh now since you're trying to regain control of yourself.

"Within reason... so don't think you can seduce me with your old Ravkan, touch, or kisses. We are not doing that here." you state firmly, but he doesn't give up.

"But lapushka, you are the only dessert I want, milaya. Moi sol ye tselai. Zyoma maya olya. Eya chela (I'm hungry) for you. Eya fyela chi, don't you love me too, moya koroleva?" He whispers against your skin as he places kisses all over your face, his beard tickling you again, making you go completely soft for him the moment his lips capture yours in a hot, deep kiss that takes your breath away.

And neither of you are surprised that you almost set the kitchen of the Little Palace on fire, completely forgetting about the cake.

"I want my summoner back." you huff at his absurd demand, at which he frowns at you furiously.

"You have no right to her."

"She had trained under my and Baghr's gaze. She owes me. Her service will be enough payment."

"She is the bride of Ravka and the fiancée of one of my brothers." you continue firmly, not allowing anyone else to speak up and ignoring Alina's annoyed look at you.

"One of them?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?" you growl in anger. He shifts in his seat; the strange creature is hovering next to him like a faithful dog, reacting to his every slightest movement. The son of a bitch tried to intimidate you.

"Not at all. It's good to know who I should get out of my way."

"If you mean what I think..." you start threateningly, completely ignoring his shadow monster.

"It would be very hard for her to be the bride of Ravka without a groom." he finishes his thought, smirking ominously at you when he sees your furious reaction.

"Oh, not at all. I would also be able to marry her." you tell him, and he glares at you madly. You hear this strange thing growling at his side. Apparently, it must have felt and shared his emotions.

"While being already mine? I doubt so."

"I belong to no one, and she belongs to Ravka!" you shout, standing up and slamming your hand on the table.

"She belongs to Grisha!" he stands up as well, banging his fist on the table. You both lean over the table on opposite sides, looking at each other hatefully. Shadows gather around him, behind his back.

"She is a person! And can speak out for herself. Thank you two very much. You know it, right? Saints, you two are perfect for each other." Nikolai interrupts the two of you before you two start a fight. He rubs his eyes with his hand and looks at the clock. "Gene… ekhem… Lord… um… Mister Kirigan. I think it would be better for all of us if we went to sleep. You and your people had a long way here; I'm sure you would use some sleep and the comfort of a bath." you'd laugh at your brother's awkwardness if your ex didn't get on your nerves like a damn master.

The Darkling sighs, nodding. He stands up, brushing invisible dust from his all-black kefta.

"I guess my chambers are still where they were?" he asks, heading towards the door, and you just can't help but stab him in the back at goodnight.

"You are not allowed to walk inside the Little Palace." you say stoically. Aleksander stops. Nikolai and Alina look at you as if you were a madwoman, suicidal.

"What?" he asks, turning towards you to glare daggers at you.

"That's not your property. You don't choose where you sleep."

"I built a Little Palace with my own hands when you were not even planning to come to this world!"

"And yet I am the one who has any rights to it. Besides, if you want to play that card, most of the population on this planet wasn't even planning to come to the world, and yet you are not going around and claiming things that don't belong to you. It also didn't stop you from seducing someone much younger than you."

"You… you are walking on very thin ice, princess." he growls at you furiously, getting so close that you're only a few centimetres apart. From this distance, you can get a good look at the black, raw scars on his face.

"I am not afraid." you reply firmly, looking at him defiantly and tilting your chin up. You both breathe heavily. Rage is boiling within you two; you both know it's not just caused by the disagreements over Ravka and Grisha, but something far more personal...

"You should be." he whispers. Your breaths practically mingle...

"If you say: make me, I will throw out my dinner. And I would rather not." you roll your eyes at your brother.

You throw one last hateful glare at Aleksander and walk to the exit. You can't stop yourself from hitting him in his arms with your own. He growled something under his breath, mad, but you don't care to listen.

You leave the room confident that you've won this little battle between the two of you. Little did you know that the real one wouldn't be fought between you until late at night.

"A chauvinistic imbecile who thinks that just because he was born first and has a penis between his legs, he has the right to behave like a future king. Even his stupid horses are smarter than him."

"Don't insult the horses, darling." Aleksander mutters over his papers, looking through the latest reports from under the fold.

He was about to leave for Kirbirsk to supervise the crossing of a new type of boat to the other side of the wall of shadows. You didn't like the prospect of being away from him for such a long time. Especially when your oldest (and probably stupidest) brother tried to convince your parents to marry you to the prince of Shu Han.

"Doesn't it bother you? Seriously? What if he succeeds and you will never see me again?" You ask furiously, crossing your arms and looking at him.

"No way, you're too much of a nuisance for me to get rid of you so easily." He replies jokingly. However, when he finally looks up at you and sees your serious, mad attitude, he throws the papers on the desk and stands up. He walks over to you and cups your cheek with his hand tenderly, which you reluctantly allow, still furious with him. "Even if something like that happens, which I highly doubt, given your manipulative skills, connections, and a large, beautiful mind that many men should fear, I will come for you. Always. Even if I have to fight the volcras, I will always come back for you." He says, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "You are mine, moya tsarevna. I'm not sharing you with anyone. Especially some pompous, high-born idiot who haunts Girsha like a haunting dog."

'But how long will it last? How long will you be feeling like this? I will die. Much faster than you. I am like a small ink stain in your long-lived book of life." you say, fully aware that you two are a lost cause.

But he doesn't let you think about it for long. He latches onto your lips hungrily, redirecting your thoughts to him and this moment between you. He pins you to the war table and effectively takes over your every little cell as his tongue tangles with yours. He moans softly as you tangle your hands in his hair. He somehow manages to distance himself from you. He rests his forehead against yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You are not a stain. You are my light. Something I have wanted for centuries but could never experience. You saw me... all of me. And you never turned away. You never judged me for who I was or what I did. And I will do everything. Everything in my power to make sure you shine for me as long as possible, moya lapushka."

"So you won't replace me? For someone else? More powerful? Equal to you? You won't change us from lovers to strangers?" you ask as he places small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck, and collarbone.

"Never." he whispers against your lips before kissing you again, his fingers finding effortlessly their way to the buttons of your dress, stroking and kissing every little bit of your skin he exposes as a promise.

Which he breaks a few weeks later when he meets Sun Summoner.

You know you shouldn't fall asleep in his chambers when he's back in Os Alta, but you've been doing it since you returned to Ravka.

After your first sleepless night in your chambers, you snuck into the Little Palace and into his chambers. And you hated yourself for how pathetic you were when you fell asleep the moment you wrapped yourself in his black blanket.

At first, you were tormented by memories of the time you spent with him, but as the days and weeks passed, memories of him only haunted you in your dreams. And now it was mostly habit that kept you in the general's chambers. After all, you spent a lot of time here. In fact, most of your happy memories. What a pity that they were just a facade, a web of lies that Aleksander had been weaving since the beginning of your relationship.

You shiver as a sudden chill passes through you. You reluctantly get out of bed and wrap yourself in a blanket. You walk over to the window, making sure it's closed, and close the curtains, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around you, pulling you into a broad chest. Before you can scream, a hand covers your mouth, and when you see the familiar black ring on one of the man's fingers, you go into a fit of pure fury.

You struggle against his grip, screaming into his hand, trying to bite it somehow. The blanket falls off of you, causing his arm to press you tighter against his body. You heat up as you feel yourself perfectly fitting against his body, involuntarily remembering... much more pleasant situations when he pressed you against him.

"Stop it. You'll only get tired. And I want to talk to you like a civilised person, so calm down." He whispers in your ear. His bearded cheek brushes against yours as he moves his hand from your mouth to your neck, squeezing gently as a reminder that if you try anything, he's ready to punish you.

"Calm the fuck down yourself. Since when does a civilised man sneak into a woman's bedroom to talk to her?"

"This isn't your bedroom."

"And this is not your palace." you reply teasingly, and by the way he tightens his grip on you, you know he has a scowl on his face. You smile, pleased that you're able to get under his skin.

"This is debatable. Will you stay still and listen to me, or do I have to hold you like that? Not that I mind, but I'd rather look at your face."

"And I feel disgusted every time I look at you, so I'd rather stay like this."

Not a second passes after you finish your sentence when he turns you around in his arms and pushes you against the large window behind you. You're glad you managed to close the curtains earlier; otherwise, you would have been pressed against the cold glass instead of the soft, velvety fabric by the angry Black Heretic.

And you wonder if you're losing your mind or if you've gained courage if you don't feel an ounce of fear as his shadow monsters circle around you. You can't quite recall how he called them since his dark eyes stared at you with an intense fire, which made you speechless for a while.

"You really have nothing else to tell me?" He asks calmly this time, running his thumb over the base of your neck. As if he were playing with his prey.

However, subconsciously, you know that he won't hurt you. If not for the sake of his feelings towards you, then at least because he's not stupid enough to kill Ravka's princess while he's negotiating... which you actually have no idea why he agreed to.

"Like what?" You finally ask, breaking the silence that had fallen between you. His face falls, you see a hint of disappointment in his eyes, and your eyes involuntarily land on the scars on his forehead, cheek, and nose. And suddenly, you feel a huge need to run your finger over them.

"I don't know... maybe why did you run away? You left and got married to Shu Han dog without saying me anything!"

"I didn't want to interrupt your fun with Alina. Honestly, what did you expect after you found yourself another woman? That I'll stay in some fucking threesome with you and your Sun Summoner?! You're not that good in bed, sweetheart." You mock him and the fact that he had the nerve to call you out on what you did. As if he wasn't the first to break the promises you made to each other in the privacy of his chambers. You were supposed to be partners in crime. It's not your fault that he decided to turn you into strangers.

"You know damn well that she was only a means to an end! The issue here is that you left me! You of all people turned away from me and ran away as if I meant nothing to you!" He shouts madly, slamming his hand on the window behind you in anger. You're surprised it didn't break into pieces under the pressure of his strength.

"Is that why you stuck your tongue in her mouth?! Because she was just a means to an end—a weapon you wanted to use? Besides, when were you going to tell me about widening the fold?!"

"That wasn't a reason for you to run away to another fucking country and marry anyone only to spite me!"

"But it was enough for you to kill him?!" You further question his actions, revealing to him that you know full well on whose orders the poison was poured into your husband's chalice... or that the black scars on his body were not caused by an infection.

"And how else could you be mine again?! Also, don't pretend that you have any morals. We both know that you didn't particularly mourn his death. I had to somehow fix the mistakes you made because of your bratty attitude."

"If you would just be honest with me from the beginning, you fucking distrustful son of a bitch, then there would be nothing to fix!”

"Do you want me to be honest?" He growls furiously, leaning towards you, your noses practically brushing against each other as he keeps his gaze on your eyes. "There wasn't a single damned second that I didn't think about you. Not a single dream without you, tormenting me because I can't have you. Do you know what I was thinking about in the fold when I thought I was going to die? About you. All I could think about was the time we spent together, when I had you in my arms. I do not want anyone else. Alina or any other fucking Sun Summoner. I don't want power; I can't do anything without you by my side anyway. So don't stand here and blame me for ruining our relationship when I love you with all the shattered heart I have left."

"So don't give me reasons to leave." You whisper, tired from all this arguing, as he reinforces your belief that you both suffered without each other and that you got under each other's skin so deeply that it was impossible to stop thinking about each other.

You hold back the tears you promised yourself not to shed because of him. He cups your cheek tenderly in his hand and rests his forehead against yours as you breathe out shakily, trying to maintain your facade in front of him.

"Maybe you should stop running away every time you have doubts about me? Why can't you have some faith in me?" He asks in a shaky voice, making you open your eyes to meet his pleading gaze. It's the first time in your life you've seen him so... defenseless. Open. Vulnerable.

"I have no doubt about you, Aleksander. I know you are capable of anything. That nothing can stand in your way if you really set your mind to it, not even Alina or Baghra. I don't care about Alina, what you wanted to do with her, or if your plans were moral or not. The problem is that you lied to me. You went behind my back."

"And look where it got me. Do you think I'll do it again?" He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss on your forehead.

He rests his lips against your forehead for a while, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent as you both try your best to have a proper conversation and don't melt in each other's arms.

"I don't now. You gave me many reasons not to trust you. Alina's case, destroying the fold, Baghra being your mother. I guess the list goes on and on."

"The last one had reasonable reasons." he says, pulling away from you to look into your eyes.

You can't help but burst out laughing. He smiles and cups your cheek in his hand. The healed scar from the amplifier attracts your attention.

"You removed it. Why? That was your only connection to Alina and her power." You ask confused, realising that the strange connection between them didn't disappear because Alina became stronger but because he completely removed the amplifier from his system.

"The only connection I want to have is with you." He says confidently, taking your hands in his. "Besides... after using Merzost, I became... weaker. Holding this amplifier would cause infection, poison my blood, and ultimately kill me."

"Are you… dying? After the second use of Merzost?"

"Don't worry, moya tsarevna. I have a long enough life ahead of me with you." He says, caressing your cheek. "And after discovering some entries from my grandfather's diary, I know how to extend it for you."

"What if I don't want it? If I don't want you anymore?"

"Then I have nothing to lose. I will do anything to bring Grisha to the throne, to their place above everyone else in this damn country. And I'll make sure you stay by my side. Willingly or not. You always belonged to me. You were supposed to rule with me, side by side. And with the time I will provide you, I am sure you will find in your heart the love for me again. Although I doubt that any of us could lose it in such a short time."

You shiver at his certainty and his dark gaze. However, it is not a thrill of fear but of excitement... and you are not surprised that this was his plan B. If you were him, you would do the same.

You signed a pact with him on the first night you spent together. There was no turning back from then on. You were supposed to be together. As absurd as it may sound. Princess of Ravka and the Black Heretic. Otkazat'sya and Grisha. Monsters on Ravka's throne. But only you would be able to restore balance without causing a civil war.

You might not trust each other, be suspicious of each other, or disagree with the decisions you made, but you knew that you both had Ravka's best interests in mind. No matter who else gets hurt, that was how the word worked: you were either a martyred saint or a selfish sinner. And you weren't going to suffer for the sake of anything else but your country. And Aleksander was fed up with his people suffering for who they were, simply for being.

Together, you could do great things.

"Tomorrow is the reading of my damned father's will. His last will is about to include who he wanted on the throne. We have enough time to…"

"I've already taken care of it. You will be a beautiful, wise and cruel tsaritsa." He cuts you off before you can finish your thought, and you smile. One mind. You've always acted like this... but only if you didn't hide anything from each other.

"I will have competition, with such a tsar at my side." you say, and finally allow yourself to lean in and kiss him. His mouth is a little chapped, but you don't mind when all you can focus on is the warmth that engulfs you in his arms again and the pleasant tingling that spreads from your lips throughout your body as he groans in pleasure. You pull away from him just as he wants to deepen the kiss. You tease him a little, and you reach out to caress the black scars on his face with your fingertips. "If you look at Alina even once, I will gouge out both of your eyes and make sure your little sun never shines again." You whisper, placing small kisses where the scars are most visible.

He doesn't freeze; he doesn't tense up. He just moans quietly at the touch of your lips in the places he hates the most and which you seem to treat with fascination and tenderness.

You were as jealous of him as he was of you. You both would kill anyone who dared to steal the other from you. And you both know it's not the worst thing you are able to do for each other.

"Don't worry… I'll only be able to see you. And how beautiful and breath-taking you will look in the crown and my black colours."

"Black?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him and pulling away slightly.

"Yes. You're mine. As well as I am yours." he says, picking you up as he walks to your bed.

"I won't wear a kefta. This damn thing is hard to take off," you tell him immediately, at which he laughs, unbuttoning his own.

"We'll see." he replies to you with a mischievous smirk and leans over you, kissing you again.

And later that night, as you lie curled in each other's arms and discuss the plans you have for Ravka in whispers, you know you wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you face more fights and doubts with him. And there is no doubt that you would try to manipulate each other to get what you want—to try and make the other feel guilty just to bring your own plan to life—but neither of you wanted to be left on top of the world utterly alone.

It was too late for you to be strangers to each other again. And since neither of you cared about your reputation, your morals, or who you would become in the eyes of the world, you might as well make them fear you. You will be the most terrifying pair of lovers in history.

And as he fell asleep, you started playing with the ball of light with a small smile on your face, squeezing his hand as an amplifier you needed to strengthen the connection you managed to make with Alina that no one knew about. Well... besides you, only the Durast, who made an engagement ring for the Sun Summoner, knew that you were trying to gain from her the power you needed to be an equal for the sleeping Shadow Summoner wrapped around you.

You would tell him... in time.

First, you had to learn how to use your new powers and make sure the connection between you and Alina would last. However, this required much more drastic measures than putting a collar around her neck or a small ring on her finger.

You press a kiss on his chest and rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. You fall asleep in his arms, wondering how you'll convince him to give you some of his mother's bones... or his own.

After all, Morozova's amplifiers were the strongest.

You will soon see this for yourself when, right after your coronation and marriage, you find out that you were unconsciously carrying one under your heart after this night.

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mamayan · 4 months

Note

Okay imagine this - (you don't have to do it, you can delete this if it makes you uncomfy, I love you and you have done nothing wrong ever) - but IMAGINE okay?

Bakugo Katsuki, The Dynamight, number two hero, and his child with you is quirkless (bonus if reader is also quirkless)

Imagine the disappointed ambition - he was so sure the kid would inherit his quirk or something similar, he was so sure - especially since the kid looks like Katsuki - and yet...

I guess I'm in mood for hurt-comfort 😔

Honestly, I see this affecting our dearest mama here, as it’s likely for Katsuki to really fall for someone after being a bully/jerk to them.

Imagine his quirkless sweetheart, desperate to please and impress at all times because they’re just useless without a quirk (thanks to his bullying in the past) and realizing their child inherited their quirkless gene?

Pro-Hero Katsuki Bakugo x Quirkless Fem! Reader!

Growing Pains

cw: SFW • Language (R) • Hurt/Comfort • Bully to Lovers • Child Care (tis the season) • Pro-Hero Katsuki • Fem! Reader • Marriage • Katsuki learns how to communicate a little better

A child is a gift so precious one must always be careful never to forsake it.

That’s what his hag-mother always said at least. The endless joy though which his daughter brought truly lived up to her words though. A gift. A precious, incredibly tiny and fragile, gift he swore to never forsake as he held the bundle in his arms at the hospital.

You looked beautiful even after so long in labor. Joy painting your features and making his heart ache from the sugar being injected into his veins. The love and adoration in your eyes only making his resolve harden further, to protect you both and love you two till his last breath.

So what changed from that moment till now? As a normally happy rambunctious toddler sits in complete stillness with eyes wide in horror. You didn’t look any better, skin perspiration more than his own on a usual day, lip being chewed until the skin breaks and he’s forced to grip you tightly.

“Hey—,” his gruff voice wakes you up.

“I’m so sorry…” his brows furrow in confusion, your apology unexpected and odd.

“The fuck are you sorry for?” He feels the atmosphere in the room start to divulge, his child and you both acting as if you’d heard a cancer diagnosis and not something he’d already considered the possibility of. Of course he’d wanted his daughter to have a quirk, but it didn’t call for such a grave reaction.

“It’s all my fault… I’m so sorry baby…” the tears freak him out more, your tears flowing endlessly as you stare at him with such hopeless eyes he’s startled to his core. Dark garnet eyes widening as a sick feeling enters his gut, something churning he can’t even name. “I failed both you and our daughter, making her weak and worthless like me—,” He’s going to be sick for sure, the sterile little clinic room starting close in on him.

He’s Dynamight, number 2 pro hero, and only because shit for brains Deku was better with the media but still, he’s not sure what to do. How to fix it, as you hold your child and cry, asking for forgiveness from him.

It makes him remember every instance of the past he cringes and does his best to avoid thinking on. Every tug of your hair, every shove to the floor, every time he made you feel small for something so superficial as not having a quirk.

Your tears were endless, and they seemed to spur on his daughter as well, her little sniffles making him nearly enraged as the door creeks open at the worst moment and the doctor returns.

The woman’s sympathetic gaze make him want to punch her, the way she seems understanding and not offended as himself.

“It can be a hard acceptance Mrs. Bakugo, I’m happy to recommend some quirkless support groups for the two of you, then we can look at some family care plans—,”

“What. The. Fuck. Are you talking about? Support group? They don’t need a fucking support group, your raggedy ass bitch—!”

“Katsuki!” “Mr. Bakugo?!” “Papa?”

It didn’t matter, he wasn’t hearing words anymore, top blown and his tempter unleashed as he nearly blows the door off after throwing you both over his shoulder and storming out. Cursing the entire way, uncaring of the phones being pulled out and people whispering and recording. He’d get an earful from the agency but it hardly computed in his mind.

Your fault? It seemed clear enough it was his fault. When all he ever did was make you feel belittled for your quirklessness, small and weak because of it, and now what did it do?

It passed on to his own fucking kid. His fault. This was his fucking fault.

His own eyes were admittedly wet as he shuts you both up in the car. Making sure you both are buckled in safely before he nearly screams once he’s seated behind the wheel. He wants to scream more, yell and break something to deal with the flood of guilt and shame washing him like an old friend.

He never apologized, only pushed it all away like the bullying and harassment never occurred when he started courting you. He’d been in love with you, and that bullying was his sick revenge for making him feel so much adoration for a single individual.

His frame engulfs the seat, muscles taunt and wide chest heaving as he calms down slowly to your silent tears and wobbly bottom lip.

“Katsuki… can we not have any discussions with her in the car…? Maybe we…,” you lick your lips as you fumble over yourself like a nervous wreck in the passenger seat, eyes wide and pacifying as you give him a look filled with a plea. “—Maybe we could have her stay with your mother tonight?”

Because you think he’s angry at you and at her.

For being quirkless.

The most defenseless and precious people to him, the two he’d sworn to never hurt or mistreat, now looking at him with complete devastation and heartbreak. His daughter is never usually so silent and still, sitting like a little doll in her car seat.

He’d always been a confident man. Unshakeable and firm in his resolve because he refused to settle and let himself be anything less than the best.

For all he is though, he’s never felt more helpless and human.

You flinch when the first tear falls.

The sight just as jarring as the realization your child is like you.

Katsuki’s eyes widen before narrowing as he grits his teeth and bares them like a hurt animal, tears spilling as he slams his head on the steering wheel in frustration. The windows tinted and thankfully adding a touch of privacy he’s grateful for now.

“I’m sorry—!” It’s wobbly and hissed like a curse, his apology burning his throat as he forces it out. He can’t look at you as he wipes at his face, shaking his head as he clears it to focus long enough to repeat himself.

“I’m so fucking sorry—never, never did I think less of you ‘cuz you didn’t have a damn quirk—! I was an asshole, a piece of shit that didn’t know how to deal with my crush on you, so I fucking ruined it by picking on you.” His eyes are blood shot, kept wide to prevent anymore liquid spillage but the way his entire face and body scrunch up, it’s difficult to believe he’s able to stop himself on sheer will alone.

“Papa…?” It’s like a slap to the face when he looks over at his daughter to see a spitting image of you both in her, features more like him but personality following you in a way that makes him melt.

“Y’listen good,” he gathers himself up better as he addresses your daughter now. “You will never be less than anyone else, quirk or no quirk, y’hear me?”

“But—,”

“No buts. It’s not up for debate. A quirk doesn’t classify a person’s value. It never has. We just associate them with power when in fact, a bunch of useless quirk havin’ shit stains run the country. A quirk ain’t power kid, power is in will, and that’s all you.” He’s glad you kindly dismiss his slip in language, watching as her little eyes widen and well with tears too.

“So I’m not bad?”

“You’re the best damn thing that’s happened since I met your mom. I love your mom, don’t I? She’s great even if she doesn’t have a quirk. Strong and resilient, patient and smarter than I’ll ever be.” He’s gripping the steering wheel so tight it may break soon if he doesn’t release his grip.

Then he’s being met with you. Your arms wrapping around him, your own muffled cries in his shirt. His hands are around you just as quickly, pulling you into him as much as the small space in the vehicle allows, breathing you in and calming himself as he reaches out and unbuckles your daughter to pull her little body into the bear hug too.

“You mean it…?” Your whisper barely audible as he holds you both close.

“I don’t say shit I don’t mean.”

And that’s enough for this moment. While he’s not a great man, Katsuki truly never lies, sometimes honest to a point it’s painful.

This is a bittersweet pain though.

Dividers/ @cafekitsune

#Yan answers #Yan loves her mooties #tw: child care #bnha #bakugou katsuki #pro-hero katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo x reader #hurt/comfort #mha

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mknightgrant · 2 years

Text

Silence

Pairing(s): Steven Grant x Reader, implied Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly

Word count: 5.1K. Buckle up, folks.

Warning(s): Insecurities and heavy angst. I cried while thinking of the concept, and I’m hoping this does my idea justice. Set after the finale, so there are spoilers!

A/N: Hello! This is my first time writing a fic and posting it, so please be gentle! This piece is purely based on research and the events of the series. I am not a system, nor do I know anyone who is a system. If any part of this piece offends anyone, please let me know. No offense is intended.

This is also not completely beta-read, so the mistakes are on me.

Summary: You should’ve stopped asking questions.

Taglist: @s-v-e-l-t-e, @caroldanvours

Everyone had warned you about the rose-tinted glasses. Your friends, your family, hell, and even your old college professors used to tell stories about how love could be either the best or worst thing that you could ever experience. It was a risk to put your heart entirely into the hands of a stranger, giving them the liberty to do whatever they wanted to it. Love it, cradle it, protect it, sure—but also poke it, stab it, and break it to the point of no return.

But with Steven Grant? It was a risk you were definitely willing to take.

You had been friends with him for five months and had been dating for at least eight before he disappeared without a trace. You were confused, to say the least. In the year or so that you have known him, you never would have expected him to disappear and cut all ties with you. But still, you waited. You waited with the hope that maybe he’d come back home to you.

However, when Steven did return, he was conflicted. He honestly believed that you wouldn’t wait for him, especially since there was no effort on his part to try and contact you after his sudden disappearance. Nonetheless, he felt that he at least owed you an explanation, and his heart squeezed in his chest when you didn’t leave when he told you about everything.

He explained it from the start, his sleeping disorder, how he tried staying up because he had hyper-realistic dreams that scared the hell out of him. You already knew of this early on in the relationship, but then he continued the story, telling you about Marc, about Khonshu, and everything that had happened to him from the day he got fired from the museum to the day he came back home to you. You've noticed that he seemed happier now, probably because he understood why he had been losing days of his life, and he’s come to accept and love his alter despite everything.

But there was also another reason, wasn’t there?

Maybe it was your fault. You shouldn’t have asked too many questions. You should’ve just taken what he told you, accepted the anecdotes, and moved forward. You should’ve just been happy that he was here and safe. But you just had to ask, right?

“Who’s Layla?” Your innocent question stopped him dead in the middle of his sentence as the grin he donned slowly faded into a tight-lipped smile. One he had hoped would be a little more reassuring than nervous, and maybe, if he hadn’t taken so long to reply, you wouldn’t have been suspicious.

“A friend of Marc’s.” His reply was short and simple. “I… She was the one who came over that day, remember? When you dropped off that book you borrowed from me? Before I… Before I disappeared?”

Oh. Of course, you remember Layla–well, her physical attributes, at least. To say that she was gorgeous was an understatement. She was breathtaking, ethereal, and a goddess at the least. However, you hadn’t heard whatever they were talking about when you knocked on the apartment door that day because they stopped talking before Steven opened the door, enough for him to peek out at you.

Steven’s heart raced as he studied your reaction to his reply, trying to gauge whether or not you heard his and Layla’s conversation. Surely you hadn’t, right? You had no idea about the scarab before he told you about it when he had returned. So that would mean that you probably hadn’t heard the conversation, and you hadn’t seen the way he looked at her the way he once looked at you. You wouldn’t have waited this long for him if you had, right?

He hadn’t meant to fall for her, but he couldn’t help himself, could he? The second his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist when she drove a little faster towards his apartment, and he was hit with “I’m still your wife,” things changed. His mouth moved on its own accord that day as Layla handed him the divorce papers he–technically, Marc–had sent.

“I would never divorce you.”

Then everything came crashing down after that. Marc had warned him against showing Layla the scarab, but she got around to it anyway, so it was too late. Steven had begged for her help, trying to explain the whole situation, and the entire thing merely confused Layla even more.

“You really don't remember why we've been looking for this? Our adventures. Or our life together?”

“Oh, God, I wish I could.”

You had come knocking on the door only a few minutes later, a smile on your face as you held up his newer copy of Marceline Desbordes-Valmore’s book of poetry. “Steven! Hi! I finally got around to reading this, but I have to say that I don’t exactly ge-”

Your words were abruptly cut off when Steven dragged you into the apartment, shutting the door behind you. None of you were quite sure why he had done that, but now that he’s thinking about it, maybe Marc had been the reason for it all.

You hadn’t had enough time to properly introduce yourself to Layla, and likewise, because the moment your eyes lay upon her, you froze. Who was she?

The following events flew by too quickly for you to properly grasp at the time. The police knocking on the door, Steven gently urging you to hide, the police making accusations against him, then just silence.

By the time you believed that the coast was clear, they were gone. The police were gone. The woman was gone. Steven was gone. You had tried going around the area, searching through the different police stations for him, and you had even gone back to the museum to ask if they had changed their mind and were pressing charges. Sadly, nothing. He wasn’t at any of the police stations, nor did the museum change their minds. So you did the only thing you could do at the time. You waited.

You texted him, called him, and left voicemails for him. Hell, you even resorted to emailing him a couple of times, just to see if your messages would reach him. All your efforts were unanswered, and you truly had no idea of his whereabouts until he came back home to you.

Sure, you’d seen the news about the happenings in Cairo, but never in a million years would you have thought that your boyfriend was the one donning the white suit.

“Oh!” A smile graced your lips, having merely associated the name with the pretty girl who once stood in the apartment. “I remember her! She helped you guys out? That’s amazing!”

You were completely unaware that Steven left out an important detail: that Layla was his alter’s wife. In the short period that he had been gone and away from you, he had kissed her and had fallen in love with her too.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Days passed, and you had been invited to the apartment numerous times throughout the week, but you weren’t complaining. You missed Steven, quite frankly, you also wanted to know more about Marc. You had encountered him a couple times when he had been fronting, but your interactions never lasted too long. Steven was usually requested for control whenever you were around, but you were aware of his alter since Steven had explained that they recently learned how to become co-conscious. That didn’t mean that they knew every waking life of the other, but at least the blackouts and memory gaps have lessened considerably.

On random occasions, Steven would continue to tell you stories about what had taken place in Cairo. Some stories were repeats of what he had told you in previous days, while others were memories he had just remembered and wanted to tell you. Sometimes, he’d tell you his thoughts about the event or other questions he had, only to piece the answer together halfway through asking you.

It was the simple moments like these that made you happy, really. To have Steven beside you on the bed, rambling about anything that came to his mind. You didn’t mind when he would tell you a story he had already told you, and you definitely didn’t mind when he would go into the technicalities of the event.

Though, there was one thing you noticed to have become a recurring topic: Layla. He would bring her up unconsciously, really, or at least, that’s what you would want to believe. But as the days passed, her name frequented his lips more often, and it felt different. It was almost as if he asked you about her daily, bringing her up as if she was the only waking thought he had. If it weren’t for the accent, you would have honestly thought Marc was fronting. She was his friend first, right?

“Do you think she’s okay? I-I mean, Marc and I were Khonshu‘s avatar, and he was just downright manipulative.” He turned his head to glance at you, “Taweret… Taweret, on the other hand… we met in that afterlife I told you about, yeah? She seemed nice. Helped us escape the Duat and all that, but… I just can't help but wonder, you know? Do you think Taweret is treating her right?” His question remained unanswered as he turned his gaze back up to the ceiling of his apartment, his fingers intertwined and resting on the soft flesh of his stomach.

You were lying on your side as you looked at him, heart clenching in your chest as you studied the way his eyes shone under the moonlight. It took you a couple of seconds before you were able to bring yourself to nod slowly, swallowing the lump that you hadn’t noticed formed in your throat.

“I’m sure she’s doing alright, Steven. She does sound pretty badass, yeah? She’s saved you and Marc quite a lot, hasn’t she?” Your voice was small as you replied to him, a wave of insecurity wafting over you as things began clicking together in your brain.

“Yeah? Yeah. She did save us when she freed Khonshu! I swear, though, you should’ve seen her in her armor, love! She looked amazing. I don’t even think I was able to greet her properly, really. Could you believe that? Marc and I were conversing about it the other day, right? And…”

You toned out his words as you continued to observe the way his mouth moved, how his lips flicked up to a gentle smile as he talked about her, and how he continued to ramble on and on about her. Utterly oblivious to your thoughts, more so to your feelings. You’ve seen this kind of look before.

To be fair, you had been thinking about it for a while. You tried convincing yourself that she had just become a close friend that he began to care about. That he was just concerned about her well-being since she had agreed to become an avatar of an Egyptian goddess, and he nor Marc didn’t exactly have the best time as Khonshu’s avatar. However, the more you studied his words and actions, things became clearer and clearer. It wasn’t until a gentle call of your name snapped you out of your thoughts, causing your eyes to lock with Steven’s worried ones.

“You… Are you in love, Steven?” You dared to ask, causing silence to fill the room once again. A silence that lasted a couple moments as Steven furrowed his brows, and his hesitation in giving you an answer was already an answer itself.

The more he talked about her, the more you were able to analyze his reactions and facial expressions and damn yourself for having seen that look in the past. Damn yourself for recognizing it.

You’ve seen it in the way your father looked at your mother. You saw it in the way your best friend’s spouse looked at them on their wedding day. You recognized it because it was the same look he used to have when he would talk about you.

“What?” He asked, confusion filling his expressions as he shifted on the bed to bring all of his attention to you. “Of course, I’m in love, sweetheart. I’m in love with you.”

Normally, his expression of love would have you all shy and red in the cheeks, but that wasn’t the case this time. “It’s just…” you frowned, bringing your attention to the ceiling. Roles had been reversed at this point, with you on your back and Steven on his side, facing you. “I’ve seen this look of yours before, you know? It’s the look of a man who’s fallen in love…” your voice trailed off at the end, pursing your lips as you tried to get your emotions in check. The can of worms has been opened, right? There isn’t much of a way back from it now. “It’s the look you used to have for me.”

Steven frowned as well. “Used to have? Darling, I don’t know what you’re going on about?”

You chose to ignore his comment, another question leaving your lips before you could even process the thought.

“Who is she to you, Steven? Who is Layla to you?” There was a slight shake in your tone, “You.. You said she’s a friend of Marc, yeah? But who is she to you?”

His eyes softened at the question, pursing his lips in response. If he were to be honest with you, he didn’t know who she was to him at this point. Was he attracted to her? Had he actually fallen in love with her in that quick of a timeframe?

Steven had always prided himself in the fact that he didn’t fall in love too quickly. Sure, he had casual crushes from the museum and friend crushes around the town, but this was different–Layla was different.

His brain often short-circuited when he was around her, and he just couldn’t help but admire everything about her. Maybe it was their shared interest in hieroglyphics and astronomy, or maybe it was something about her beauty in general, or maybe something about her intelligence and the way she was always there. She understood him, and she fought for him too. However, there was one thing he was sure of–she was Marc’s wife, not just a friend like he made it out to be.

But deep down inside him, he knew that he had fallen for her. He technically did confirm it back in one of those tents in Cairo, didn’t he? When Marc interrogated him about being in love with his wife? He hadn’t verbally answered the question, but his actions were enough for Marc to know that he had. The kiss he shared with Layla was also enough for him to know that he had.

Steven’s lack of response broke your heart, to say the least. The lack of a verbal response already served as the answer you hoped you wouldn’t have to receive from him.

The silence between you two didn’t last as long as you thought it would, having a sigh leave his lips as he brought his arm over his eyes.

“I-I don’t know.”

His words brought your attention to him once more, seeing his body tense up as he gulped. You should have played it off and moved on by this point, right? But you couldn’t. Not when his body language told you more than enough. You sensed the truth in his statement; you’d give him that. But at the same time, you also felt the conflict that was arising within him, and you knew that was because of you.

It definitely did not help your thoughts when he sniffled. Perhaps you were missing the bigger picture? Fuck. Maybe you overreacted? Had you offended him?

“Shit. Wait, lovie–I’m sorry. We can drop it, yeah?” You offered, sitting up abruptly and moving closer to him so you could lift his arm from his face, your heart breaking at the sight of tears rimming at the corners of his eyes. “I just… You were gone for so long and since you came back, you’d always just bring her up and I was just curious.”

Steven sat up as well, and your hand moved to cup his cheek, causing him to lean in against your touch. “That’s all. But I believe you, okay, lovie? I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry..”

The thing is, you and Steven barely got into misunderstandings, and on the rare occasion that you did, whoever was in the wrong would apologize with a kiss. So that’s exactly what you intended to do. You moved closer and leaned in to press your lips to his, only for him to pull his head back slightly in hesitation–another event you weren’t prepared for.

Swallowing back a sob, his eyes bore into your saddened ones. Guilt overcame his features almost immediately at the sight. You at least deserved the truth, right?

“I… She isn’t… She isn’t just Marc’s friend.” He whispered, bringing his hand to cup your own when he felt your touch falter slightly.

You felt as if you already knew where this conversation was headed, based solely on how he was basically tiptoeing around you, but you desperately wished you were wrong. “I… Is there something else you’d like me to know, Steven?”

“Layla… She’s Marc’s wife, darling.”

Nothing could have prepared you for that. You would have at least thought that she was Marc’s girlfriend or something along those lines, but you never would have thought that the alter of the man you were dating was married.

“She’s…” your voice trailed off as your hand slowly dropped from his cheek, causing him to move quickly to take your hands back in his. “He… You knew about this? When did she tell you? Or when did Marc tell you?”

“She told me the day that we met… Marc wanted to get a divorce because Khonshu wanted to have her as his next avatar, but Marc never signed the papers.” He quickly explained, tilting his head slightly so he could meet your eyes when you shifted your attention to your hands in his. “She tried giving me the papers that day but I couldn’t sign them–”

That sentence alone made your eyes shoot up, locking with his. “You couldn’t sign them?” you breathed, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to grasp the information that was being handed to you. Shaking your head as your heart pounded against your chest, you continued, “You… You knew that she was Marc’s wife from the first day, yet you lied to me?”

He looked down at your hands, which he still held in his, as a response, his thumb moving in circles in an attempt to soothe you, as if it would do much.

You honestly did not have the energy to be mad at him. Technically speaking, he hadn’t done anything wrong either. Your relationship did not have a title, and while you were definitely past the ‘I love you’ stage, he wasn’t your boyfriend. Based on your knowledge, you don’t have high hopes that he will ever be either.

“You should have just told me. Hell, even just… not saying anything as a response would have sufficed as an answer.” Was all you could bring yourself to say after a couple moments of not saying anything to one another. Your words were leaving your mouth slowly as if articulating every single word you were about to say. “Lying… Lying isn’t better than silence, Steven. I-I would have understood… I mean, it was coming, wasn’t it?”

His head shot up at that, and his gaze met with yours once more. “Wha-”

It was your turn to cut him off. “Do you love her, Steven?” You asked once more, a small smile gracing your lips. If he hadn’t known you as well as he did, he would’ve been convinced that you were okay, but he knew better than that.

You were convinced that you would be met with another round of silence, but you were mistaken.

“I-I think I do…?” He mumbled softly, gritting his teeth as he shook his head. You weren’t quite sure what his head shake was in response to, but you couldn’t exactly bring yourself to even process the action. “I don’t know, I can’t–You’re my first love, darling, I swear–”

His words turned into incoherent mumbles as he desperately tried to find the words to explain himself. To explain his feelings in a way that would hurt you in the least brutal way possible, but no matter how he chooses to explain it, his words are bound to hurt.

“I may be your first, but that’s all I’ll ever be, yeah?” Your voice was almost as soft as a whisper as you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “And it doesn’t matter though, does it, Steven? It doesn’t matter if I'm your first, I-I’ll never be your last. I’ll never be your only.” Maybe you were rambling at this point, but everything was crashing down around you. The man you had been waiting on, the relationship you were clinging on to, and everything you have come to love was slipping through your fingers so quickly. To make things worse, your acceptance of it all merely serves as the catalyst to the inevitable end.

“I’m never going to make you choose, lovie… You know that, right?” A tear found its way down your cheek as you brought his hand to your lips to give it a gentle, lingering kiss. “It’s okay, Steven.”

He felt unworthy of you, to say the least. You deserved so much more than a man who leaves without a trace and whose loyalty did not fully reside with you. The memory of the kiss he shared with Layla plagues his mind, and the confession burns in his throat as he wonders if it's even worth it to tell you–to break your heart more than he already has.

“I’ve always considered myself lucky to have you, you know? It just… our whole relationship felt so good. Too good, actually.” You smiled sadly, tears brimming the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to look at the man you love. The one you allowed yourself to fall for so recklessly with the hope that maybe, just maybe, he would love you back, even if just half as much as you did him. “She made–no, she makes you happy, doesn’t she? She kept you safe and fought for you. She saved you, and I just…”

Steven’s eyes shut tightly at your words, shaking his head rapidly as he desperately tried to think of the words to say to you. “It wasn’t on you, darling… Please don’t blame yourself for this.”

His response was typical, but you couldn’t blame him. “I don’t blame anyone for this, Steven, okay?” Your tone was free from any malice or bitterness, but the sadness that laced your words was still quite evident. “I could never hate anyone who makes you feel safe and happy, you know that. The only thing I ever wanted was for you to be happy, Steven, and if she makes you happier than I ever could, then….”

“No.” The fact that you couldn’t even bring yourself to finish that sentence broke him. His head continued to shake as if to convince himself that this isn’t happening to him, that you weren’t actually considering leaving him. He is well aware that you deserve better, but could anyone blame him for being selfish? After everything he’s been through? And after everyone he’s lost? “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

Your hand reaches up to cup his cheek once more, your thumb gently grazing his skin as your eyes drink up the sight of him. Memorizing him. Every single bump and wrinkle. Every single self-acclaimed imperfection, in Steven's opinion. Every single thing that made him Steven and made you love him even more. “I love you, Steven Grant. I love every single bit of you, and I hope you never forget that.”

Your insecurities were getting the best of you. How could they not? The woman he had fallen for was here in the room with you that fateful day and had followed him somehow. Helped him. Protected him. She had everything you didn’t–bravery, strength, the brain, the beauty. And to top it all off? She had him, whether she was aware of that fact or not, she had won Steven’s heart, probably the same way she had won Marc’s. How could you ever compete with that?

You laid a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, and his eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. He was too engrossed in his thoughts to realize that you stood up, collecting the things that you had brought over for the day. He’s brought back to his senses when he hears you sniffle, and he genuinely wishes he could just take you back in his arms and make you forget that he hurt you. But he doesn’t deserve that, does he?

Instead, he chooses to repeat his question as he gets off the bed and walks over to you. “Why do you sound like you’re saying goodbye?” He asks once more, dejection and defeat clouding his senses. His hands move to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him in a tight hug, not wanting to let you go. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but at the same time, he still doesn’t want to lose you.

You hadn’t made him choose between you and Layla because you made that choice for him, and you were letting him go. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to lose you, and at the same time, he didn’t want to lose Layla.

Your arms wrapped around him, holding him like a lifeline-your lifeline. A slow nod from you caused his grip on your figure to tighten as he felt your movement, a new wave of tears accompanying the gesture. “Could you do something for me, Steven?”

There were so many questions taking over your thoughts at the moment:

Why couldn’t you be good enough? How were you going to move on? Why were you stupid enough to think that this would last forever? When did he fall out of love with you?

Instead, you chose something else. A question that hurt him more than it hurt you. “Tell me more about her. Just so I know that I’m leaving you with someone who could love you as much as I could.”

His grip tightened even more at your request. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you more about her, even if he had talked about her too many times in the past couple of days. He couldn’t do it because he knew that this was your way of seeing how you could have been better for him, where you lacked in your relationship. But the thing is, you never lacked in any aspect–you were perfect, and he doesn’t deserve you.

A shake of his head was the only response he could give you, causing you to sigh as you gently pulled away from his grasp. It didn’t work though, since his arms were still firmly planted around your waist, but you were pulled apart enough for you to see his face.

Cupping his cheek once more, you leaned your forehead against his. “Kiss me? Just… Just one last time, Steven. Please.”

And he did. He pressed his lips against yours in a kiss that would be engraved in your memory forever. A kiss that captured feelings of love, regret, selfishness, and sorrow. A kiss that would be the last of the memories you would share with him in thirteen months you had known each other. A kiss that would ultimately be your last with the man you have grown to love despite the hardships and heartbreak that came with being with him. You never would’ve thought that you and Steven would have your last kiss like this.

“How lucky am I to have someone that makes saying goodbye so hard?” You forced out a laugh, tears streaming down your cheeks as you rested your forehead against his once more. A sad smile graced your lips as your thumb gently wipes away the tears that have made it down his own cheeks. “I love you, and I'm just really grateful that I had you. Even if just for that couple of months that I did.”

Steven’s eyes drank you up the same way you had earlier, memorizing your features and everything about you. He just hates how the last memory he would have of you would be like this–with your heart broken because of him.

“Is it selfish if I ask you to stay?” He asked, his voice softer than it usually was when he was with you. And for fucks sake, you almost do, but you can’t.

“Oh, God, I wish I could.”

The line jogs his memory, causing his eyes to clench shut. His tears were freely streaming down his face at this point, and he knew he looked like a mess, but he didn’t care.

“You were good to me, Steven Grant. Thank you.” You couldn’t find the words to say as you pressed your lips against his nose once more. “Thank you, lovie. For letting me love you the way I did.”

“Please don’t say goodbye.” A broken sob wrecks his lips as tries to convince you to stay, but he knew there was nothing he could do to make that happen. “I-I can’t lose you. Please. You promised.” It was selfish for him to pull this card on you, but believe it or not, he does love you. “You promised…”

Nonetheless, you nod slowly. If he doesn’t want to hear the goodbye, he doesn’t have to. But it doesn’t mean that this wasn’t the last time you would see him. He knows this.

“I’ll see you later then, yeah? When we meet again?”

He was shaking uncontrollably now, but he had to let you go the same way you were letting him go. Had roles been reversed, he would’ve done the same for you.

All he could muster was a nod as he forced himself to release you from his hold. He honestly hated how things went south so quickly, but he was to blame for that, wasn’t he?

He has to let you go.

“Laters, gators.”

A gentle kiss on the back of his hand, and a squeeze of reassurance were the last things he remembered before the door of his apartment shut behind you.

Steven was left in the same way you were when he had disappeared that night.

In silence.

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thebubblesareevil · 1 year

Text

A Deal is a Deal…

I haven’t really posted any danny/kaldur in a bit so here you go

Danny was having a really long, really stupid day.

First he was late for his exam because he woke up to kitty and johnny fighting in his apartment. By the time he got that sorted out he had to rush to campus.

Then, by some miracle, the proctor let him in despite being late only to realize he was in the wrong exam halfway through. (He decided to finish the test and turn it in rather than admit his mistake.)

Then he finally managed to stop and get a truly unholy cup of coffee that he topped off with his last bit of ecto shot only for someone to run into him, spilling his coffee.

Which really didn’t make the blind date Sam set him up with anywhere near bearable. She was nice, don’t get him wrong, however Sam has two types of friends outside of Tucker and him. He was pretty sure he would have preferred hearing about the deforestation of the Amazon than have the heavily pierced girl get wayyy too excited when she realized he was from Amity Park. After he finally escaped with the excuse of feeding his dog Sam decided to call to find out how the date went.

“She did the thing Sam.” He stated bluntly as he struggled to unlock his door.

“And which thing would that be Danny? The one where she’s interested in your personality or the thing where you might need a restraining order?” He groaned, thumping his head on the door before checking the hall for neighbors. With the coast clear he phased through, once more leaving his arch nemesis to fight another day.

“The second one, or at least that definitely seemed where it was heading. She kept asking about all my favorite cemeteries back home.” He threw his keys on the counter, dropping his bag to the floor.

“Well did you tell her about the one near the old clocktower? I’m sure she loved that.”

“Sam, she wasn’t asking about nightly walks and talking to ghosts. She made some not so subtle hints about what she liked to do there.” He could hear Sam wince through the phone.

“Eww, sorry Danny. She really seemed like someone you would click with.” He sighed as he looked through the bare cabinets.

“Not your fault, to be fair things were going great till that point. Plus most people don’t see half as much as I do in graveyards. It could have been worse.” He grinned.

“Oh yeah, what are you thinking?”

“Do you remember that guy from the protest you set me up with awhile back?”

“You mean Orion? What about him? You said he tried to gas light you.” Sam almost sounded offended on behalf of her semi-cannibalistic friend.

“Oh he did more than that. He followed me home.”

“No!”

“Yep, apparently I was being stingy and he thought I owed him so he tried to steal my bike.” He laughed.

“Ugh, don’t worry I’ll be sure to pass the word on to his new partner Marcy. I guarantee he’ll regret it.” He shrugged as he ate a piece of plain bread.

“It’s whatever, at least he didn’t try to kill me.” Sam sighed.

“It was one time!”

“Oh really?” He said as he munched. “If I remember correctly it happened twice.” He could hear the sound of Sam smacking her forehead.

“The first time doesn’t count, that was an accident! Besides Valerie tried way more than I did.” She huffed.

“Yeah, I know.” He yawned, heading over to the bathroom, discarding his socks and shoes along the way. “Some how neither of you are even my worst exes to date.” Sam snorted.

“No I think that title belongs to that crazy Viking that was convinced you were going to start Ragnarok.” Danny felt a small tug at his core as he brushed his teeth.

“What can I say? She was charismatic!” He claimed after spitting into the sink.

“Yeah well Miss. Charismatic nearly talked you into a war with her brother just because he flirted with you.” The tug on his core got stronger. “Personally I would have gone with the brother.” Danny nodded as he nearly tripped walking to his bed.

“I mean, that was never in question. Regardless, I’m swearing off Vikings for the next century.” Danny began struggling to take his shirt off without setting down the phone. The tug on his core was stronger than ever, try as he might to ignore it.

“You really suck at this dating thing, I killed you twice and somehow I’m still not in your top ten-” Danny struggled to escape his stupid shirt as his core PULLED, sending him tumbling to the ground. With a groan Danny finally gave in and just pulled the stupid shirt through his body only to come face to face to someone that was distinctly NOT his bed.

He looked around,coming face to face to someone he was actively avoiding.

“Ello Phantom? How’s death going for ye.”

John Constantine, accompanied by what appeared to be some of the newer members of the Justice League.

Danny decided the best option for this would be to do his best impression of a confused, semi-hungover college student.

“Look man, I don’t know who you are, or what you want but do you have some coffee or something? I’m dying over here.”

“Yet not foolin anyone mate. Need a favor from you. Or rather your better half of you don’t mind.” John replied vaguely as he rubbed his hands together before blowing some kind of powder all over Danny.

Danny stood there flabbergasted, as a rain of dust? Covered him head to toe. He stood there for a minute before his face started to twitch as John began to chant a spell. Danny took a deep breath and-

“AACCHHOOO” John jumped back as the sneeze disrupted the dust.

“What the hell man?” He scolds as he rubbed his nose. John grunted.

“Stubborn little shit huh? Too bad we need the Phantom and he’s coming out one way or another.” Once more he began to chant, Danny however chose to ignore this fact as he took in the faces surrounding the circle. They were clearly some of the younger heroes, even a few apprentices by the looks of it. But Danny really didn’t have time for this, he had another exam tomorrow.

“Look man, I’m not sure what you’ve been smokin or how I got here but unless you’re gonna help me study for my engineering exam, then I gotta go.”

“Please wait.” Danny spun around to face the hero standing behind him, stopping him before he even started to leave. The handsome hero stood tall, clearly he was the leader of this group, which begged the question of-

“Why? What you guys possibly want from me?”

“Allow me to explain. I am Kaldur’ahm, though I am also known as Aquaman. We are seeking the help of a spirit of hope and protection that goes by the name of Phantom. We need his help.” Danny gave the gilled hero a considering look.

“With what?” Kaldur’ahm somehow managed to stand up even straighter.

“A powerful magician by the name of Zatanna was pulled into the Infinite Realms. We need to help of Phantom so we can venture into the realms to retrieve her.” He replied with a barely noticeable sense of urgency. Danny raised a brow.

“You want to go to another dimension? With help from a ghost named Phantom? And you want my help to what? Summon him?” John scoffed, completely ignoring the glare Aquaman sent his way.

“Don’t go playin dumb mate. How exactly do you think you got here.” He pointed to the floor “ That there is a summoning circle, invoking Phantom by name. Now here’s how I figure it. Either you’ve gone and disguised yourself or you decided to take this poor sod for a joy ride.” He smirked. “So which one is it mate?” Danny glared at the Englishman.

“Whether you’re Phantom or not we need help.” Danny sighed as he looked back at the hero.

“Well what’s in it for me? You dragged me from my apartment and you want my help, give me a reason.” He announced.

“Name your price demon.” Danny rolled his eyes at the annoying sorcerer.

“Not a demon.” He paused, trying to figure out what he could ask for as the little heroes started to get nervous. He was gonna help them one way or another, ideally they would give up on him and send him back to his apartment. It would be easy enough to get a magician out of the realms. Danny took one more look around the circle before grinning.

“How about a date?” He said, looking directly at Kaldur’ahm with a grin. He laughed before he continued “Just Kidd-”

“Deal.” Danny choked on his own spit as his cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. John shouting from the other side of the circle.

“What the bloody hell kind of request was that?!?”

“ I didn’t think he’d say yes!!!!” Danny covered his cheeks as the handsome hero smiled at him.

“A small sacrifice to help a friend, though not a difficult one.” Danny’s face turned a darker shade of red as green started to bleed into his cheeks. ‘Was this guy seriously flirting with him right now?!?’ The hero raised a single smug brow at him, tilting his head just slightly to the side.

“Do we have a deal?” Danny took a deep breath, coughing into his hand.

“Uh, yeah sure, I’ll get your friend back from the realms.” Kaldur’ahm smiled, Danny blushed. “I guess I’ll just… yeah.”

“We shall begin preparations immediately. Once Phantom arrives we should head out immediately, the less time Zatanna spends in the realms the better.” His face closing off as he got serious, Danny couldn’t deny it was cute before he realized what he said.

“Oh, yeah no, you guys aren’t going.” John practically growled causing the hairy green kid to back up.

“Like hell we aren’t! Just because you claim to be a spirit of protection doesn’t mean I trust ye.” Danny turned a steely glare on the sorcerer as he walked towards him. He made it all the way to the edge and the look of confidence he’d been sporting during this whole ordeal dropped from his face as Danny stepped over the edge of the circle.

“I don’t give two shits if you trust me! You aren’t welcome in the Realms John Constantine. Not until you get that piece of patchwork you call a soul sorted out!” He looked around at the rest of the people in the room. “Besides, it’s against the rules to bring the living into the Realms and I’d rather not have to deal with Walker today, thank you very much.” John glared.

“Look here you dead piece of sh-”

“HALF-dead thank you.” He interrupted as he started to float off the ground. “Now buzz off before I change my mind.” John looked as though he intended to reply when Kaldur’ahm stopped him.

“Enough Constantine, we need his help. For Zatanna.” The British asshole grumbled to himself as he scurried off to the side. Danny stepped back on the ground, making his way over to the Atlantean.

“Hey Kaldur’ahm, before I get your friend, you don’t actually have to go on a date with me.” He looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was gonna help you anyway, I just wanted to get under Johnny boy’s skin.” He just looked at Danny with a smile.

“I thank you, however a deal is a deal, it’s too late to back out now.” Danny’s jaw dropped as the Atlantean grinned. “And please, call me Kaldur.” Danny coughed into his hand to try to force himself to talk.

“Okay… well… okay then… um…” he studdered, dying a little more inside. “I’m gonna go get your friend we can…uh… talk about the details after.” Kaldur nodded as Danny reached a hand behind him to open a portal.

“Agreed, and please be careful Phantom.” Danny paused.

“You can, you can call me Danny.” He back with a slight stutter.

“Very well Danny.” He smiled. Danny blushes as he backed up into the portal, tripping over his own two feet as he fell through. Once on the other side he quickly reached out to find the intruder in his domain. She was easy enough to find, he didn’t even bother transforming. She was standing on an unclaimed floating island only a few miles from where he opened the portal.

Armed with the knowledge that she regularly worked with superheroes he thought it would be best to announce his presence before he surprised her.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a magician by the name of Zatanna would you?” The fierce woman turned, her wand posed, ready to send a flurry of spells at a moments notice.

“And if I am?” Danny smiled.

“A friend of yours asked me to come get you.” She looked at him suspiciously.

“And which friend would that be?”

“A cute Atlantian with a killer sense of humor, named Kaldur.” She raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’ve never heard him described as having a sense of humor.” Danny chuckled.

“Yeah, I told him I’d come get you in exchange for a date. He didn’t even hesitate. Like he’d actually wanna go on a date with a ghost!” He replied with a laugh. Zatanna however did not join in and instead looked Danny up and down before looking him dead in the eyes. She grinned.

“Gotta say I can’t exactly blame him. It’s not often he gets asked out by handsome shirtless men.” Danny squinted at her confused before looking down. His eyes went wide as he realized he hadn’t been wearing a shirt the whole time!

#danny phantom #ghost king danny #dc x dp #brain vomit #dp x dc #danny/kaldur #danny x kaldur #kaldur'ahm #zatanna #john constantine #beast boy mentioned #Sam Manson #she is never gonna let him live this down #might make a sequel of Kaldurs pov #this got out of hand #they always do #i should be working on my wips but here we are #this is post season 2 but I’m ignoring the war it doesn’t exist

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ellana-ravenwood · 2 years

Text

Buttslap ?/Batslap ! - Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

Synopsis : You’ve had the “bad” habit of slapping your husband’s butt every chance you get since almost as long as you two started dating. And sometimes, it gets you in trouble...

Not me, writing a fic the day before my wedding...Haha, I had time to relax before the big day, and I thought : “what could be better to truly chill, than to write a silly little fanfic ?” This started from an ask, and now we’re here. This is just a story for fun and not to be taken too seriously, one of those stories that exist purely because I told myself : “I mean, why not ?”. I hope you’ll like it nonetheless ! :

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlists : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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Habitus

““Man is largely a creature of habits”, said the famous philosopher G. Stanley Hall and...ain’t that the truth ?

It’s nice and stress free, to have habits. To do things a certain way, and to not change that way (as long as it’s effective). To automatically repeat certain actions.

It’s comforting, even soothing, to know that at least, there’s some constant in your life. It’s a feeling of safety, almost.

It’s one of those things you know you can always rely on, you know ?

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I will always, ALWAYS, slap my husband’s ass whenever I get the chance.”

There’s a silence in the room, as you end your little speech. Most people are just too stunned to react. What, did THE (Y/N) Wayne just say all that for real ? Or was it a collective hallucination ?

Did you really just climb up the stage at this insanely crowded charity gala, and proudly told everyone that...you enjoyed slapping the famed Bruce Wayne’s butt ?

Well. Yes. Yes, you very much did. Oh dear...

And the worst thing was ? You weren’t even aware of it.

The past week had been quite busy, and stressful, and you did not want to come to this gala, but your position made it so you were kind of obligated to...and therefor, to ease your anxiety about it all, you might’ve drunk a little bit too much champagne (you didn’t need much anyway).

Oopsie.

Now here you were, talking about slapping your husband’s ass, and it being an action that comforted you greatly. How embarrassing. Fortunately, most people were just shocked that you dared to say all that, and would probably think they imagined it all.

Plus, Bruce, being used to your antics, just casually walked on the stage, and just took your hand and dragged you with him before you could continue to speak about how you worshipped your husband’s butt.

Of course, as he took you away, you managed to give his ass a good slap, before turning to everyone else and saying with a big smile : “Soooo satisfyinnnnnnng !!”.

Needless to say, you were mortified the next day, as your husband told you all about it, amused. You did remember doing that, and that it sounded like a GREAT idea on the moment and- oh my God, you hated those galas !

You were expecting the story to be on the headline of all tabloids, but fortunately for you, that day, Penguin’s trial was starting and the “downfall of the Cobblepot” was still more important than “(Y/N) Wayne says husband’s butt is great”...Pheww, crisis averted.

This time.

The first time it happened

Slap !!

Bruce stops in his tracks, and slowly turns around towards you.

“Did you just...Did you just slap my ass ?”

He asks, almost in disbelief, his cheeks slightly tinted of a rosy color that you find just too adorable (although, you’d never tell him that).

“Um, yes ?”

You answer shyly, afraid you went a little too fast. Afraid you offended him. Afraid you were totally out of bound. I mean. You did slap his butt without asking if you could, he didn’t consent, and that was bad...The more you thought of it, the more you were livid. What did you do ? How dare you ? You really just slapped THE Bruce Wayne’s ass, the fearless Batman’s butt cheeks ??? And without asking if you could first, at that ??? Outrageous.

“Im-I’m sorry ! I didn’t mean to- I mean, I did mean to, but I should’n’t have ! I’m sorry ut’s just-”

It’s just you couldn’t help it. What. The man was climbing the stairs in front of you, showing his perfectly shaped butt to you, what else were you supposed to do ?? It was pure instinct.

Here he was, all muscles and shapes in his black dress pants, and suddenly, your hand found itself slapping his backside as if it had a mind of its own !

You were feeling so awkward now, this was what, your third date ? How would you have reacted, if a man did this to you ?

Oh dear. Oh dear. Were you one of those disgusting predator ?? Slapping people’s butt just like that ?

Oh. But not just people. Bruce Wayne’s butt. Only his, had such a power of attraction on your hand. Which didn’t make you feel any better about your action.

You were a little disgusted with yourself, the more you thought about it. And you-

“No don’t apologize ! Please. I-um...I liked it.”

Short silence.

You look at him. He looks at you.

You raise an eyebrow, a smirk slowly rising on your face.

He looks away, embarrassed.

“You did now, didn’t you ?”

“Yes. You can- do it again, if you want.”

“Can I ?”

“Yes.”

Ah. Here was the last barrier to it all : his permission.

He was giving you permission to slap that beautiful, perfect ass. Who were you, to resist him ?

And that’s, when this all thing started.

“A disgusting habit !!”

The kids hate it, of course.

As if the fact their parents weren’t into PDA way too much for their taste, what, their mom just HAD to slap their dad’s ass whenever she could ??

Did you have no self-control ?!

DICK

Dick was eight years old, when he saw you do that for the first time. It was still a time during which you tried to keep your affection for your husband as tamed as possible, especially in front of your boy (as the years went by, you just found it too funny, the way they reacted to the slightest touch of affection between you and Bruce, and you couldn’t help but mess with them).

You slapped his butt, and he turned around smiling and then kissed you

And Dickie, oh, bless that young and innocent little bird...He thought the butt slap was just a way of showing someone you loved them !

Oh, oh the awkward moment when you had to explain to him that no, this was not what it meant, and that he couldn’t just go around slapping everyone’s butt (that kid loved too many people).

That it was only when you “loved-loved” someone, that you could do that.

The boy was horrified, of course. And even to this day, he remembers it. He often said that it was one of his childhood’s greatest trauma (and in a way, that joke helped him relativized his actual trauma).

After that, whenever he would see you slap Bruce’s but, he’d yell : “Go love-love each other somewhere else !”, and you found it so adorable, despite your son being genuinely mad.

Even now, as an adult, he’d still exclaim things like : “Oh please for the love of goooood, get a rooooom !!”, and other : “CONTROL YOURSELF, PARENTS !”

It never ceased to amuse you. Which was definitely not why you kept doing that in front of him, right ? *evil laugh*.

JASON

Jason thought it was funny. Ever since he was a child.

In his mind, you slapping Bruce’s butt was a mark of affection. Was one of your love language. He’d always been more sensitive than others, as to what made each person’s way of loving others special.

It always made him happy, when he saw the both of you giggle together because of it. Jason never needed much, in life. Just people to love, and who loved him back. Just family.

Of course, just like his brothers and sister, he’d get annoyed by your “horny teenager” behavior sometimes. But the butt slapping ? It was never that. It was always clearly just a fun joke between you and Bruce.

Ah, Jason couldn’t help it. If you or his dad smiled ? It was enough for him. He couldn’t be mad, when those he loved were happy. It made him happy, in return.

When he got resurrected, and he felt abandoned by all of you, it was more painful than every thing else. He would’ve rather been tortured by the Joker for a thousand years, than feel this emotion again. All alone, unloved, forgotten...(or at least, so he thought).

When he started to forgive you guys, and he first saw you slap Bruce’s butt after years and years of not seeing something like this...

It made him smile. Unintentionally. Subconsciously.

A big smile. And it warmed his heart. Because-

Because those two still loved each other as if it was their first day together.

Because his parents were happy.

And, because the reason he was so angry at them, was because he loved them so much, that it hurt too strongly to think they abandoned him...

But small moments like this. His mom slapping his dad’s butt when she thought he wasn’t looking. Bruce unable to fight the smile growing on his lips. The look you both exchanged...

Love.

And it just made him happy. As simple as that.

TIM

Tim had decided since a long time that he would just pretend like his parents do not exist when they start to get all lovey dovey.

As a result, you can slap Bruce’s ass right in front of him, or even kiss him, and Tim will just close his eyes, and pretend he’s somewhere else.

The first time he brought Bernard home, Bruce, him and said Bernard were in the kitchen drinking some milkshake when you came in the room.

Tim instantly just turned his head towards his boyfriend, knowing what was going to happen. And sure enough...it did happen.

You said : “hey guys”, to which they all answered “hey” (my love - Bruce / Mom - Tim/ Mrs Wayne - Bernard). You casually walked across the room, gave your husband’s ass a big ol’ slap (he acted as if it never happened), got yourself a smoothie, and then exited the room saying “bye guys”, of course not forgetting to slap his butt once more as you walked passed Bruce, and give him a mandatory kiss on the cheek.

Tim said : “Bye mom”, still not looking in your direction. Bruce said : “bye my love”. And Bernard just stared, obviously stunned by what just happened.

Later on, Tim would just tell him : “Ignore them, trust me, it’s just easier.”, and honestly, Bernard couldn’t help but love that weird family. Never a boring day, with them.

DAMIAN

He will NEVER let his father walk in front of you. You go up flight of stairs ? Either he’ll make sure you get in the front, either he’ll get in the middle of them.

His strategy was to simply not give you a chance to slap Bruce’s ass.

After all, if you always did it “whenever you got a chance”, if he rendered nulle those chances...he could avoid seeing it, right ?

He always managed to get himself between you and his father, to take your hand at the right time, and hug you, so that you’d stop the “slapping motion”.

Bonus ? The fact that he could make his dad almost jealous because that meant that he always managed to redirect your attention on him. The attention that was supposed to be for Bruce, he’d get it with his hugs.

It was sneaky, really. And it always worked.

CASS

Cass was the most radical of them all. Unlike Damian, who would stop you in some clever way, she’d simply stop you unscrupulously. If she saw you approached her father when she was around, she’d just say :

“No.”

And stop you by grabbing (lightly) your wrist. Which always stunned you enough, that you just forgot about the butt slap.

At one point, your only daughter took it upon herself to “train you” to stop doing that when she was around...and literally used a water spray to deter you from slapping your husband’s butt.

Whenever she saw you coming from behind Bruce’s back, she’d spray your face with water, and say “no.”

It worked...for a short while. You didn’t want to embarrass or annoy your kids too much, so if it bothered her that much, you’d just stop.

You’d just stop ?

Oh, but that was underestimating your “manipulation skills”. “No”, ugh ? Well, we’d see about that. After all, you don’t teach new tricks to an old dog.

You over-exaggerated everything. Sighed whenever you saw your husband, staring at his butt, but not doing anything. It came to a point that Cass started to feel guilty, and eventually stopped reacting to you slapping your husband’s butt (well, she’d use the “Tim technique” of looking away, even though she still thought you two were disgusting).

Your plan worked. No more spraying of water, no more “no”, or Cass stopping your wrist...Aaaah, it was almost too easy.

Once, Dick said : “Ah, she got you too, didn’t she ?”, and Cass didn’t quite grasp his words before a long time. When she finally got it, an evening, while laying in bed, she sat up suddenly and exclaimed :

“WHAT THE FUCK !!”

DUKE

Duke..never expect THE Batman to act this way. And even less elegant (Y/N) Wayne that he saw so many time in the papers.

And yet, every chance you got, you’d give your husband’s ass a big slap, and leave definitely pleased with yourself.

How weird.

But to be honest, this wasn’t the weirdest thing Duke found out about that family. And in the end, Batman getting his ass slapped by his wife on a regular basis, was it really that weird ?

Yes. No. Yes. It definitely was.

The incident (you know, worst than that time you publicly admitted you loved slapping your husband’s ass)

“We warned you countless time, mother. It was bound to happen, really. You can only blame yourself.”

It was rare, that Dick would call you “mother”. To be fair, none of them ever did...except when they were sort of disappointed in you. Kind of in the same way you’d call them by their full name when you were mad at them, you know ?

The fact that your eldest just called you “mother” added insult to injury. It wasn’t like your son, to rub salt into the wound. But oh well...You did kind of deserve it.

You definitely had it coming.

But seriously, how could you know ? Those people were sneaky. It was part of their job !

You sighed, looking at the headline of most papers from Gotham, horrified :

“Is (Y/N) Wayne cheating on Bruce Wayne with...BATMAN ????”

“Gosh dang it”, to use an expression often used by a certain man from Smallville.

So what, you can’t even slap your husband’s butt in public now ?? Well..You made a mental note of not doing it in public, anymore. Not when he was wearing the Batman costume, that is.

What happened was : it was 6 am. One of those December mornings during which it was still very dark outside. You were going to an important early meeting, and your family was coming back from a night out patrolling. You thought you’d kiss them goodnight on your way.

How were you supposed to know that a paparazzo was following you that day ? It was so early, what kind of psycho would do that ? Oh..but this was Gotham, of course.

The picture that bastard snatch didn’t leave any doubt : it was clearly you, grabbing with your full hand a piece of Batman’s ass.

Gosh dang it.

How were you going to get out of that one ?

It’s Tim, who suggested you pretend the picture was manipulated. He almost didn’t say anything, because well, yeah, this would serve you right...But also, he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking something ill of his mom.

Bruce took care of the rest.

Using the latest tech available, he actually manipulated the picture to make it look like you were giving something to Batman. And he managed to convince everyone else that the picture of you grabbing his ass was faked.

What would Lucious think, if he knew his hard work was used for that, uh ?

Everyone knew you loved when paparazzi took picture of you grabbing your husband’s ass, because you thought it was funny. So it was easy to pretend as if the paparazzo managed to fake the picture using those.

And then, everyone also knew that Bruce Wayne had a close “work” relationship with Batman, so the fact his wife would give Batman files wasn’t too crazy.

Of course, the fact Gothamites seemed to vow a blind faith into your husband, made the rest easy.

Everyone bought it. Oh, and that paparazzo ? Bruce made sure he wouldn’t be a problem (by giving him many pictures to sell, not by threatening him...at least, not officially).

And that’s how you avoided a HUGE scandal.

But did that incident deter you from slapping your husband’s ass every chance you got ? Absolutely not.

The broken hand

“For the last time Damian, this wasn’t my fault !”

“Oh yeah ? Well you should’n’ve contracted your muscles so much !”

“I-I can’t help it !!”

But nothing Bruce could say would stop his son to glare at him.

“Who need muscles in their ass anyway ????” He’d say, angry that-

That his mom got hurt.

You found it so funny. This situation was hilarious. Like, come on. You had a cast on your hand right now, because you slapped your husband’s ass a little too hard (and that man was made of pure muscles).

Neither Damian nor Bruce thought it was, of course, which made it even funnier.

Damian couldn’t bear any harmed be done to you, and though he knew it was an accident, he couldn’t help be a little mad at his dad.

“Batman works out everything.”

Is what you heard your husband say, once, to Clark (surely, they were fighting about who had more muscles once again...pretty common...Ugh, men).

But it was true, your husband worked out every single muscles in his body. He never skipped “leg day”, and definitely didn’t skip “butt and glute” day.

His ass was hard.

And you broke your hand slapping it.

Come on, it was so fu*king funny !!

Bruce, of course, hated when you were hurt. He always felt ill himself, when you’d get any kind of injuries. But that time ? He couldn’t feel (too) sorry, because oh my god you laughed way too much at your own mistake !

He could’ve gone without your son’s reaction, though...

Bruce had to hear about it for days. Jason and Dick also thought it was so funny (mainly the fact their little brother would keep bringing it up). But none thought it was funnier than you did.

So. Yes. A broken hand. Ah, but did that deter you from slapping your husband’s ass every chance you got ? Absolutely not.

The instagram page

It was a secret.

A secret all of your children knew, of course.

But they pretended they never heard of it, and had the account blocked on their personal insta feed.

Yes. It was a “secret”.

What, you might ask ?

An instagram page, with pictures of your husband’s perfect butt.

An instagram page...ran by you, of course.

Because : “sharing is caring, it’s not fair if I’m the only one who can admire it.”

So, no. You were not about to share him with anyone really. You wouldn’t be the only one admiring it, but you’d stay the sole “batbutt toucher” on this planet (other planets included, actually).

But you loved to brag about him. Plus, you thought it was HILARIOUS to open such an instagram page.

Of course, you were the only who found it funny. But oh well, it was worth it. And those accounts racked quite a bit of followers.

Somewhere on the web, there was also a “BruceWayneThighs” page, and a “BruceWayneJawline” one...Mmm, wondered who made those, eh ?

More effective than Kryptonite

Everyone remembers the absolute SHOCK on his face when Clark first saw you slap Bruce’s butt.

It was at the League’s headquarters, of course. Not long after they discovered that Bruce had kids, AND a wife !!

They were having an important meeting on a world class threat, when you arrived. You had come to bring Batman some lunch (that in itself was quite shocking). And as you were about to leave, you just casually gave him a slap on the butt, and said : “see you tonight hot stuff”, and WHAAAAT ?!

It rendered Clark speechless for a good minute or two. As if he had been hit by a fist made out of green kryptonite. By multiple fists, even.

“Did she just- did she- did- dshe-idshe-ddd-ugh ?”

“Once again, you shine by your uncanny intelligence.” Bruce sarcastically said, annoyed by this reaction. He disliked, when people commented on his relationship (some would say : maybe don’t make it so public ? But then, some learned that it was better to just not upset Batman too much).

Diana almost killed Clark, when she said : “I wouldn’t mind if she slapped my butt.”

Who were those people ?? The mighty Superman was about to have a brain fry, but then he noticed Bruce. Was he...pouting ?

And was it because of Diana’s comment ?

The woman was smirking mischievously, clearly pleased with herself. And the pout on the Batman was growing.

That day, Clark decided to pretend as if nothing happened. On one side, because he couldn’t fathom the Batman getting his ass slapped by his wife, and on the other side, because him and said Batman had just become friends, and he didn’t want to make him pout further by commenting his personal life.

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

Clark never got used to it though.

Over the years, he saw you countless time slap your husband’s butt, but he could never quite register the fact that this was Batman.

Right there.

Batman.

Him.

🦇👨, himself.

Getting his butt slapped (and clearly enjoying it, although he’d never let that comment slip as he didn’t wanna risk Bruce glaring at him).

It was odd. At the same time, it made him more human.

And though Superman would never get used to the idea of you just casually slapping your husband’s ass whenever you got the chance, he never thought it was something that you shouldn’t do (as weird as it sounded).

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

To reassure Bruce, except for Diana who reenacted the “I wish that were me” meme, every single member of the JLA went : “👁👄👁” when they first saw you do it.

They all got used to it, unlike Clark, but still. It was quite a shock, the first time they witnessed it. It was the way you did it so naturally, and how Bruce didn’t even react, that got them...

Unbeknowst to neither you nor Bruce, they all started to call that habit of yours “the batslap” (and thought they were very clever for their play on words...Butt slap, batslap...Oh yes, there was a reason why Bruce, was considered the smartest)

“I will never stop, you cannot make me stop.”

Over the years, even after many “incidents” and “troubles” born from you slapping Bruce’s butt, it never even once came to your mind to stop doing it.

It became one of those habits that was actually comforting to you. As if you and Bruce could be a normal couple sometimes, with your own little silly “inside jokes”.

Hell, when he was sure no one was around, Bruce would literally put his ass out just for you to slap...because as odd and ridiculous as it could sound, it became one of those thing that made you, you.

The woman he fell in love with.

Whom, even during the worst moments, would be there to cheer him up (and vice versa).

The woman who never hesitated once to slap THE Batman’s butt. THE Bruce Wayne’s ass. How many people like that existed in this world, uh ?

Yes, doing that got you a lot of time in troubles. Got you in delicate situations, in awkward ones, and even, a few time, dangerous ones (you didn’t wanna talk about it).

But never, NEVER would you walk pass your husband without slapping his butt. Nothing could stop you from it. No one could, either. You’d always find a way.

As you said all those years ago, it was as if your hand and his butt were magnetically aligned.

Of course, you’d exaggerate greatly all that matter. You found it funny, really. Besides the fact that you just liked slapping his butt, that is.

And Bruce ? Oh, Bruce wouldn’t have it any other way.

His ass, was yours to slap.

The end.

________________________________________________

Told you, it was gonna be dumb haha. Still had fun writing it. I’m getting married tomorrow, and took advantage of a chill time today before the mayhem to sit down a few minutes and write...I hope you enjoyed this story :). As per usual, comments/reblogs are beyond appreciated <3. Thank you for reading !

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