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#it's okay silk's the only one of us that actually likes it
foreverisntenough · 3 days
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‘OURS’
Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.
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Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, self doubt, body image, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant/ baby logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)
Chapter 12 - Mwah | ‘Ours’
You were thrilled when you found out Liverpool’s preseason was going to be in the US this summer. You practically screamed when Trent told you. You were so excited to have an excuse to go back to New York. You’d get to see your family, you’d get to tote Teddy around back where you grew up. It was just a perk this trip would happen to coincide with his work. It would be amazing to have your parents around Teddy for a bit as well.
Before preseason officially kicked off leaning into the end of July, early August, you spent the weekend out at your parents house out in Montauk, New York. You and Trent were really happy you’d get one last bit of time together before the season began. Being back at your parents place made you miss it a little. Home was England now. Home was wherever life took you with Trent and Teddy but a small piece of you still missed this place. The big open beach that had a different scent than the ones in the UK, the way the sun shone a little brighter, a little warmer on the horizon. Any case, you were glad you at least got this weekend to spend with your whole family and show Teddy the place you spent too many summers.
“Mmm C’mere baby.” Trent hummed pulling you into him in the bed you were sharing. It was funny staying in your childhood bedroom with him. Okay, it wasn’t really your actual bedroom it was your bedroom at your beach house but regardless he liked being able to get to know you a little more through it. Trent liked to explore what you had kept hidden in your desk drawers, finding little niche things that made you you, made this your space. It was nice but it was also practically being rubbed in your face you were at your parents home and not your own so you felt like you had to behave. Trent’s family was definitely more relaxed. Chill, if you will. They had rules of course, no messing about, but it was still a family of boys, whereas obviously you were a house of two girls growing up in Manhattan. Dianne sometimes would tease you saying she’s glad she got you as her daughter later in life. She wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Boys were easier. Her boy currently wanted to be easy for you.
“T” you sheepishly giggled. “We can’t. My parents are literally right downstairs.” You whispered as if you were 16 and you had snuck him in without them knowing.
“They’re watching a film. You’re in bed with me so why are you worried about them? Worry about me and taking these clothes off for me.” He cooed as he dragged the strap of your silk tank top off your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine in the best way.
“T! Please.” You let out a harder laugh amused by his advances. You pressed your palm against his chest pushing him away from you slightly.
"Mmnnmm.” he hummed dismissing your rejection. He was obsessed with this moment. The dark room only lit by the moon out over the ocean seeping in through the window. Your soft skin against his, the feeling of drowning himself in your scent. You were going to have to really convince him this was a bad idea to get him to stop. “Don’t be so scared, baby. Give me one kiss and then decide.” He cooed, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. His eyes fell into the pleading puppy dog look you couldn’t say no to. He kissed you and you moaned into his mouth almost immediately loving the feeling of his lips on yours and the sensations running through you from the second they connected. You pushed your hips greedily into his.
“Okay, okay. You win.” You sighed into him. You dropped your hands over his shoulders and bent your elbows back to drape your hands to come grip his hair. You pulled him into you for a deeper kiss. You gasped a little as he pulled your top further down exposing more of you.
“You’re perfect, baby.” He flicked his eyes between yours, your lips, and your tits indecisively. He couldn’t decide where to fixate first. You let out a desperate moan when he finally landed on your tits brushing his thumbs over your nipples. “Shhhh. You need to be quiet. Yeah?” Trent hushed you when he heard the creek of someone walking up the stairs. You giggled, not interested in his request, too caught up in what he had started and proceeded to pull at the waistband of his boxers.
“Y/N… are you awake?” You heard a voice from behind your closed bedroom door. Trent pulled your top back over your chest to your displeasure. He got out of the bed abruptly and pried the door open. You were surprised he went so quickly but you watched as he leaned on to the door frame. His back muscles looked stupidly sexy. Winnie was behind the door. “Not Y/N” She laughed a little seeing Trent answer opposed to you and then a little more when she assessed both of your states. You were wide eyed and Trent was impatient with her wanting to get back to you.
“No, not Y/N.” Trent confirmed he was in fact not you. They conversed longer than you thought they would Trent, biting at Winnie’s proposal if you wanted to go to the beach tomorrow so they discussed plans at length before he returned.
“Let me take this beautiful baby girl. Should we make you a big breakfast?” Your mum was quick to pluck Teddy out of your arms. You had woken up early in the morning and carried her downstairs. You loved that she connected so well with her but it also confused you in a way. Watching her be so maternal, so nurturing and careful, none of the things she was with you. As your mum watched Teddy, you hopped upstairs and dragged Trent out of bed. It was obscenely early but you were running on borrowed time. His season began in a matter of days and you wanted to spend time with him. You put on a jumper of his and a tiny pair of shorts and insisted he went for a walk on the beach with you. Your house was on the coast next to a resort you remember not remembering so many nights spent there growing up, sneaking drinks with your friends. It was funny you and Trent had sort of the opposite trajectories. You were carefree and relaxed when you were young and now grew to be more rigid and organized. Trent was the reverse, now calm and easy going but grew up diligent and committed.
“I had my first kiss there.” You laughed strolling on the shoreline, recalling a boy you think was shorter than you force his tongue down your throat behind a cabana. You filled Trent in on that tidbit of your life pointing in the general direction of the scene of the crime.
“Don’t tell me that!” Trent scolded you looking at you like you were crazy. He could believe you just told him that. You’ve had this conversation once before and only once. He wanted to know everything but just once.
“Trust me I’ll remember what you tell me.” he confided in you that there wasn’t a shot in hell he’d forget the names of the people you were about to rattle off who had touched you, gotten to be with you.
“This is dumb! You have to tell me then as well.” You asked not wanting to expose only yourself. Telling a partner about previous relationships was always a tricky situation. You had to know. It wasn’t like you had met as virgins but you were adults. You had to be honest, you wanted to be honest with each other it just was scary.
“You really want to know?” He asked interested in your answer but slightly falling into a feeling of anxiety about having to tell you. Trent was… well he was a young footballer on a big stage to say women flocked to him was understatement. It was something you were definitely aware of and made you nervous but at the same time the thoughts of telling him about the unmentionables you’d done with stupid mistakes like Chase was not exciting.
“No, not at all. I guess I should though.” You looked him dead in the eyes and he regretted starting the conversation. He didn’t feel as strong as he usually did around you. He felt weak like you had the power all of a sudden.
“I was 15, relax!” You laughed pinching at his side. He gripped your wrist fast. He was so agile it caught you off guard.
“Don’t tell me that either! You have never kissed anyone but me.” He teased and pulled your body into his. His eyes narrowed looking at you seriously. You ran your palms over his chest draping them behind his neck scratching his scalp gently. You could feel him relax under your touch yet simultaneously go stiff trying not to get too turned on in public.
“Whatever you say” you pressed your lips to his. He hummed at the taste of your kiss. Trent secretly, or not so secretly because he’d told you before but, really liked knowing you had some sort of wild side, maybe daring. You’d commit to things. Him being one of those things. You spent 5 days straight with him right after you met. It was all very instinctual. You just grew up completely differently and yet you fit perfectly together and he loved that about you. He remembered on your first date being slightly bothered that he couldn't open wikipedia and read more about you. He wanted to know you intimately. He wanted you to read him a biography about your life, the sound of your accent hitting against his ears all night.
“Ran from the police once here too.” You giggled and his face contorted, shocked at your admission. There were still bits and bobs of information you didn’t know about each other, of course. You could never truly know everything but you had gotten close to that. Trent definitely didn’t know this piece of information though. You broke out of his gentle hold. “Didn’t catch me though.” You yelled, beginning to run away from him down the empty beach. He chased after you as you ran
“Come back here. Think you were really gonna be faster than me?” He caught you quickly grabbing onto your arm. You stumbled a little not able to catch your balance on the shifting sand and his hold dragging you backwards.
“I am faster than you!” You giggled out of breath falling into the sand pulling him down with you.
“You’re not but I love you despite your flaws” he teased, pinning your arms down to your side. Your heart faltered a little at his aggression. There were moments with Trent when he was unintentionally very sexy. He’d forget how strong he was, how weak you were in comparison.
“My flaws! What happened to ‘you’re perfect baby?” You asked breathing heavily beneath him, widening your eyes mocking his accented words. He hovered over you. He looked perfect as the morning sun rose up over the horizon reflecting onto the water and splashing onto his golden skin.
“You are perfect.” He kissed you. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed you again “You’re not very fast” he kissed you with a slight laugh and your lips curled into a smile as you shook your head at him. “And you’re all mine.” You let him rest his body weight on you, pressing you into the sand. You squirmed a little beneath him as he persistently smothered you with kisses all over your face
“I love you so much, T.” You cooed sincerely. Meaning each word that fell out of your mouth.
“I love you. You've changed my whole life.” He whispered, moving his lips only millimeters away from yours.
“You are my whole life, baby.” You took a deep breath feeling his big hands on your hips push up the bottom of your his jumper. He dragged it up over you until he could see the bottom of your lacey bra peeking out. He kissed up your stomach, slow, dedicated, but also almost harsh. What he left behind were the signs of him, shiny spots caused by his warm spit. It was weird as you felt a memory of your first night together come rushing back. Like you were transported onto the hotel bed of the room you were in at The Plaza. You remember the feeling of his foreign lips on you, the ones you knew so well now like it was yesterday.
“God, please” he moaned. This wasn’t even directed at you, he just wanted some higher power to let him have you. You didn’t smile at him. Tears fell over your waterline. Your heart broke at the rant. He looked panicked. He looked distraught over how he felt. You wiped at your face before he took over slowly catching any tears.
“I didn’t really anticipate making you cry in bed. Not this way at least” you slapped at him gently, a smile starting to form. “Please” he softly begged you. You nodded wholeheartedly.
You should’ve known you’d fall for him then and there. You cried on your first date. Normally, you would’ve been mortified if that had happened and yet with a new stranger you felt completely safe. You wouldn't even call it a first date. It was like 7 in a row; dinner, the bar, the cab ride, the bedroom, the club, then the bedroom again. You laughed thinking how insane it was that he really did mean what he said, that he knew what he wanted, how certain he had been. You laughed recalling it all in grave detail.
“What are you giggling about, huh?" He interrupted your reverie. You looked up at the cheeky smirk appearing on his face as he watched you try to compose yourself under him. You pushed him away playfully trying to get out of the emotions that were crashing over you right now. It was too early to be that sentimental.
“I think we should get married here. What do you think?” He asked laying down next to you in the sand. He rested his head on your chest and slid his hand down to hold yours.
“Yeah… I think I’d fancy that. When?.” You asked him with a smile, liking the idea a lot. It hadn't really registered or settled in yet that you actually were going to get married, you’d have a wedding, so the exact location or date of it definitely hadn’t been thought about too much.
“Whenever you want. I’ll be there waiting.” You pouted at him. How did this stuff come out of his mouth? It was like he had it all rehearsed, like you were in a simulation being played and you loved every second of it. You laid there for a little longer before he pulled you up. “I am marrying a felon. Who knew?” he laughed.
“No. I told you, they didn’t catch me, remember?” You giggled in response but you fell into a comfortable silence after.
“What for…?” Trent asked and stopped walking, needing to know more. Needing to read the passage of your Wikipedia that broke down a run in with the law.
“It was stupid. Someone had thrown a party, there was underage drinking and a lady called the cops. I didn’t want my parents to know I was out so I took off.” you shrugged. His brow furrowed confused. “It’s really not a big deal here, honest. It's common, I think?” You tried to rationalize with him. He was quiet for way too long racking his brain. It’s not like he didn’t have fun growing up or have a drink before he was 18 but the police felt… intense. “You’re making me feel bad now!” you quipped.
“Well, you ran from the police!” he laughed, letting go of your hand and draping his arm around you.
“Oh well, not all of us are beloved local lads the police would let go are we?” You teased him. He knew what you were referring to. Trent would be lying if who he was hadn’t gotten him out of trouble. He told you about a few times where he had been pulled over driving by the police but they let him go after he simply took a selfie with them. His jaw slacked offended you’d bring that up. You nuzzled your face into his arm starting to feel almost dizzy by the whole conversation. “Do you still love me?” you sheepishly whimpered.
“What?” he shook his head at you confused laughing. “Obviously. What are you on about? I just asked a question. Of course, I love you.” he quipped before he abruptly grabbed your face with one hand. He pushed your cheeks together, pursing your lips for you. He smashed a wet kiss against them. You pulled away with a shy smile. His stare blank. “Got it?” he asked seriously.
“Got it. Jeez!” you laughed, wiping your mouth of some of the wetness that remained. He just rolled his eyes as you walked back inside the house.
You got ready to go to the beach later on in the early afternoon actually in bathing suits this time with Teddy and Winnie. Your sister sat on a towel and complained to you about how stupid some boy was dming her that Lauren was trying to set her up with. You lazily lounged on Trent while Teddy sat on his chest. He haphazardly held her. She occasionally would just topple over onto him still working on her balance but eventually she was definitely doing it on purpose, loving squishing her face against Trent’s warm skin, hearing his laugh, his chest vibrate and heart beat as his big hands kept her secure on top of him.
“You can never DM anyone, alright?” Trent cooed at Teddy, resituating her up right as she giggled, before falling again wanting to continue her game with him.
“DM all you want, Ted!” Winnie rebutted Trent’s rules. She gave him a smug smile he was annoyed at.
“Go on Ted!” You just spurred her on. Teddy squealed, hearing her name getting exciting. Her little hands grabbing eagerly at Trent’s face for a kiss. She had recently learned how to purse her lips, coming to understand that it would result in a kiss for her. She loved it. She loved the attention, she loved the sound, a giggle following every single one. Trent kissed her identical pout.
“Can mummy have one, please?” You asked her for a kiss, envious of the one she gave him. You squeezed her arm gently to grab her attention. You pushed your lips out towards her. “Mwah!” You made the sound she couldn’t get enough of. She laughed and wiggled trying to get to you. You dragged her off Trent’s chest into your own. She nuzzled her face into you comforted by every little thing. The way you smelt, the way your skin felt, your familiar heart beat. She calmed as you kissed her head. “My Teddy bear.” You squeezed her a little tighter to you. Trent pinched your arm to remind you of this moment that you definitely did know how to make her very happy.
“She’s happy right?” Speaking of a daughter's happiness, your mum asked your dad back at the house looking on, able to see your little family from afar as they sat by the pool.
“She’s never been better. He takes care of her.” Your dad reassured her watching you kiss Teddy laying on Trent.
“I’m surprised you took such a liking to him. If he wasn’t on the team you support would you’ve?” Your mum teasingly asked your dad. It was a joke but she was also a little curious as well for his answer.
“Don’t be silly, I genuinely think he’s a good kid. Good head on his shoulders, good family, good values.” You dad reaffirmed his stance that Trent was good for you. “Could be different though if he played in Manchester but...” Your mum ignored his dig at other teams, keeping her focus on you.
“They’re good with her.” Your mum admired you and Trent playing with Teddy. “I just want her to be happy. It felt like she never was when she was here.” She remembered life before you moved, before you met Trent.
“She was… she just needed to find her place. Her person. We all eventually find our way to them.” Your dad cooed, squeezing your mum’s hand from his lounge chair.
You came back to the house as the evening sun sank down. Winnie running with Teddy back to the house in a fit of giggles in her arms. You trailed slowly with Trent holding his hand inspecting his newly tanned golden skin. You shuffled up the steps and turned on a spout to wash the sand off your feet. Trent turned on the water inside of the outdoor shower next to it.
“C’mere” he dragged you in after him. “You look so good today.” He purred beneath your ear. His plump plush lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck.
“Yeah? I thought I caught you staring” you turned away from him pushing your ass against him. His hands drifting around you slowly one gradually come to paw at your boobs. You shut your eyes in pleasure. You rolled your head back onto his shoulder.
"Nah, me staring at you. Never." His dark, brown eyes bore up into your closed ones and you breathed in heavily feeling his hands glide over your skin. His free hand ran down your side sliding under the tie of your bikini on your hip. It was subtle yet it had your heart racing. Watching his fingers run over your body as the water cascaded down with them felt pornographic. He moved his hand from your tits up to cupped your jaw. He tilted your head awkwardly and harshly to look at him. It made you gasp a little as he pushed his hips into you further. You could feel his hardening cock. You flashed your eyes at him and it only got harder. Your lust filled gaze sent sinful thoughts barrelling through his mind.
“Y/N L/N! That boy is not your husband yet. I better not be seeing two sets of feet in that shower.” Your mum yelled out clocking that you two had come back to the house, were nowhere to be seen, and the shower was on with two familiar pairs of feet in it. All thoughts were halted the moment you both heard her voice.
“Sorry” you sheepishly apologized strangely embarrassed by her call out. You kissed his lips, peeling your body off his. Your mum was ‘old school’ in an ironic way. Like she picked and chose when she wanted to implement those values.
“Nah, I have you for the rest of my life. Not worried.” He whispered before one final kiss.
“Mum, they have a baby…” Winnie laughed carrying a pitcher of margaritas out onto the deck with one hand, Teddy in the other before passing her off to your dad.
“They can have 10 babies, Win. We still don’t want to know it’s happening” your dad chimed in situating Teddy on his knee as she smiled oblivious to the nature of the conversation about her parents. You timidly got out of the shower pulling Trent behind you. He held your hands behind your back and rested his head in between your shoulder blades childishly hiding from your parents. “Trent, my boy, I love you but keep your hands to yourself.” Your dad quipped and you wanted to die. Trent held his hands up in innocence taking a step away from you. It wasn’t the first time Trent had encountered a protective dad but it was different with you. He had good banter with your dad but really respected him and listened to what he was asking because he respected you. “I want that signed license before I’m holding another one of these.” He voiced in a serious manner asking for the marriage certificate before you had a second baby. You couldn’t quite tell if it was laced with any humor as you watched him kiss Teddy referring to her as ‘one of these’ loving every second of her. You grabbed Trents lips and pulled him into a kiss. Your hands cupped his cheeks. His lips were warm and soft. A shock of electricity ran through you being so bold to kiss Trent in front of your family. Your parents groaned. Trent held his hands up again not touching you reinforcing this wasn’t his move.
“Oh Y/N, really?” your mum quipped. Winnie booed. You giggled and shrugged then went to pick up your baby girl.
“You introduced me to him. Your own fault. ‘Oh you’d like him.” You mocked the words your dad once told you whilst watching a Liverpool match pointing out Trent to you on the TV.
“And I appreciate it.” Trent said, running a towel over his tanned skin. He dried himself off before he wrapped the semi damp towel around you and Teddy. Winnie took a photo of your bundled family engulfed in his arms and terry cloth on her film camera.
“Win, I want that one. Send me it when you develop them.” Trent asked after hearing the shutter go off. The sun went down, drinks were poured, and the fairy lights illuminated your dinner table. “They taste different here, swear.” Trent explained to Winnie that he genuinely believed burgers taste different in New York. She wasn’t sold on his rationale so they rambled on back and forth debating the unimportance. You caught Trent smiling at you though mid sentence as he watched you scarf down your food relieved you were eating. He winked at you and you had to put your head down you felt so flustered.
“Any plans about the wedding yet?” You mum asked eagerly. It was driving her nuts you hadn’t begun making any concrete plans.
“Think this morning we decided we should maybe do it here” you cooed to no one in particular at the table but then looked at Trent to confirm the decision. You mum sat up a bit straighter and began to rant to you about contacting all these events planners and contacts she had in the area.
You and Winnie exchanged your typical look, the one exchanged your whole life. The ‘mum is fucking nuts.’ one, you knew well. You wrapped up dinner and you put Teddy down for sleep. You were sitting on the couch watching a film with Winnie. You were cuddled up into Trent when you got distracted watching the veins of his hands move as he rubbed over your skin. Your heart started beating faster as you tried to reclaim your focus but you couldn't. He was the only thing on your mind now. He caught your quick side eyed glance towards him before you attempted to follow the movie again. With the hand he was stroking you with he squeezed you. It took you by surprise because he did nothing else, didn’t even acknowledge you or look but it set something off. You wanted him to pay attention to you. Sometimes with him you’d get a feeling like you were just meeting again. Like you wanted to impress him, get him to like you all over again, make him want you.
“Do you really have to leave tomorrow?”. You whispered in his ear before you dropped your head into the nape of his neck, your lips gliding down his neck.
“Mmmhmm” he hummed as he rolled his head to the side to give you more space to run your soft lips over. He closed his eyes, lost in the moment, losing all hope at following the plot of the movie anymore.
“Are you sure?” You gently pushed his t-shirt up with your palm and slid your hand across his abs. The feeling of your lips on his neck and your nails dragging across his skin dangerously close to the band of his shorts had his heart rate speeding up.
“I’m not so sure right now.” He quietly told you. He took control of the situation quickly just the way you wanted him to. He turned his whole body towards you completely ignoring the movie and the fact that your sister was about a yard away. “I’m not sure I can leave this mug of yours.” His eyes narrowed and scanned over your features. He flashed a devastating smile watching you trying to suppress the smirk blossoming on your face.
“Can you guys not… I get it, you're engaged. I am single.” Winnie stood up annoyed. You giggled hiding in Trent’s neck, embarrassed almost forgetting she was in the room.
“Oh, Win! I’m sorry! Finish the film with us” you called out to her as she stormed off in a huff before stopping in her tracks.
“No, no, I’ll leave you to it! Also,” she flashed her glare from you to Trent. His eyes widened, surprised she was mad at him and he was being included in the sisterly spat. “You give Lauren fucking Jude Bellingham… and me, nothing. Jude Bellingham.” she threw her hands at him.
“I don’t think I exactly gave Jude to her, did I?” he quipped back and she feigned a face as if she was less than impressed. She started to laugh though unable to hide a silly smile on her face trying to commit to her theatrics. This was quintessential Winnie. She thought this was very funny. Trent knew her well but not the way you did, of course. Not the years of her creating these situations out of thin air. For Winnie, taking a bit or a tease too far was a thrill. She loved to overreact just to grab people's attention only to drop it with a giggle. It was a bizarre yet endearing power trip.
“Winnie!” You yelped her name before falling into giggles yourself at how ridiculous her claim was, very aware this was one of her ‘performances.’
“There’s 26 players on a team and you’re on two! Club and Country” she gestured to two different spaces in front of her with her hands spelling it out for Trent. “I’m only asking for one man.” She rolled her eyes at the stunned look on his face. She walked out of the room.
“I can’t tell if she was serious or not… Am I meant to set her up?” He said to you louder than he thought he did. Winnie’s voice echoing a ‘yes’ that made its way back to the living room where you were as she made her way down the halls away from you.
“You asked if I had to leave…you gonna miss me, baby?” Trent asked, a few minutes later, gently grabbing your jaw. The way his eyes looked into yours made you feel special. Made you feel love and then lust.
“Yeah, T. WIll miss you and this cock” you boldly stated. Your words drenched in neediness as you leaned forward to slide your hand over the bulge that had been tenting in his shorts.
“Mmm yeah? Show me then” He instructed you and your eyes lit up with greed. This was a terrible idea. Your dad would murder both of you, your mum would have a heart attack, Winnie might vomit but he looked so good and you were going to miss him… and his cock… for the 5 days you were about to be apart.
“Can you be quiet for me, baby?” you asked with feigned innocence in your eyes as you lowered yourself toward his length.
“I’ll be good.” He stroked over your cheek as he watched you lick the tip of his cock. He let out a moan, feeling your tongue graze over the slit leaking pre cum. Your eyes widened looking up at him annoyed because he literally just said he’d be quiet.
“Sorry, sorry. Start again. I’ll be good. I promise.” He tried to convince you. You ran your hands up his strong thighs as you licked his length from base to tip, not totally convinced by his promise but you didn’t care now that you had a taste. Desperate for more of him. Desperate to make him feel good. “Such a pretty girl, yeah?" He praised you in a whisper as you flashed your glossy eyes up to him. All you wanted was for him to tell you how good you were for him. He breathed deeply watching you trying not to make a sound. He didn’t do a great job but at least his words of encouragement were whispered. “That’s so good, baby, fuck. Keep going.” he quietly groaned. He tucked wisps of your hair behind your ear stopping your constant need to move your hair away from your sticky lips. He threw his head back against the couch cushion in pleasure at your movements. He ran his hand over his hair. The air had gone thick in the room. It was hard to breathe all of a sudden for both of you for different reasons. “Baby” he grunted at a normal volume warning you he was going to cum. He unraveled quickly to your delight. You clasped your hands around the backs of his knees, slacking your jaw just that much more for him to take all of him sucking in your cheeks as he released.
“Good?” you giggled after you swallowed, pulling yourself up using his thighs. He nodded out of breath. Eyes closed and head resting back onto the couch coming back to reality slowly. You climbed up on him and straddled over him. You slid off your shorts and to Trent’s surprise you weren’t even in panties. He just blew air out of his mouth amazed by your figure over him. Your tiny white baby tee clearly worn without a bra, nipples very out, and your pussy on full display for him to admire.
"You wet for me?" He asked and you nodded. You got wet just sucking him off and he knew that. He ran his fingers through your slick folds.
“Tell me what you want me to do, T” you whined, getting desperate for more. He was teasing you, giving you enough to lose your composure but not getting close to your entrance or clit.
“You’re gonna take my cock.” He demanded and you smirked and he began peppering kisses over your jawline. “and you’re gonna take my cum.” You aligned yourself with his already rehardened length. You sank down slowly not having his usual help preparing you for his size. You let out a whimper feeling the leaking tip of his cock burying himself inside your pussy. He began languid but purposeful thrusts up into you. He immediately felt you clench tigh around him as your jaw slacked and your brows pinched adjusting to his length. “So good f’me always.” he stoked your cheek with his thumb while his other hand held your helping you move on top of him.
“Please, T, I want to make you feel good. I want to be good for you.” Your words went straight to his cock. He smiled. Even in bed you were always well mannered. He loved when you begged for what you wanted. You liked T being in charge in the bedroom. You were politely submissive. You both were mindful you had to be quiet though so your words were hushed but they were potent. You both wanted to be good for the other. It was apparent with every deep upwards thrust of his and every merciless roll of your hips. It was all so needy and desperate.
“Oh fuck, baby. You make me feel so good. I want you to cum on my cock. I need to feel you.” He tried to whisper but his pleads were hard to keep in check with his shuddering breath as you were working on top of him. You both were climbing to your highs. “No one else will ever be able to fuck you ever again. No one else could ever fuck you the way I do.” He muttered into your neck trying to muffle his voice as he huffed.
“Nuh uh.” You moaned. You placed you mouth against him to quiet the volume of the sounds you wanted to make “Oh god, only you T. You forever. Only want you always.” Despite your dickmatized haze you genuinely meant that. You only wanted him to fuck you forever. Your thighs began to quiver.
“That’s right. Good girl. My girl.” He bit onto the most sensitive part of your neck he knew drove you crazy. “Absolutely no one else.” You picked up your pace even though your legs were aching, you wanted more of him. His breaths were hot against your skin, audible. You rode him for ages on the couch in pure euphoria. It must have been almost over any hour. You were surprised no one had come down stairs but were more relieved than anything else.
“I love you” you let out the most sinfully innocent moan in his ear. A sound he wanted to keep forever. His soul was completely in your grasp. The way you sounded and felt right now was his heaven. You pulled away and looked at him with twinkling eyes and he pushed up into hitting a spot so deep you had no other option to then fall into an earth shattering orgasm. Your face fell onto his shoulder biting him to not make a noise. He kissed your cheek repeatedly as he continuously thrusted into you as you attempted to move. White hot pleasure spread rapidly through your core. Seeing you cum always tipped Trent over the edge.
“I love you, baby. Gonna fucking cum inside my pussy, yeah? This pussy’s just f’me.” He confirmed his possessiveness over you and you loved it nodding eagerly. His drew his face into your neck and let out a strained moan as he thrusted up a few more times before he filled you up. Your eyes rolled back and closed. His cum leaking out of you more as you bounced on him a few more times helping him ride out his high, fucking his cum deep inside of you untill he was empty. You fell onto his chest heavily breathing tucking into his neck hugging him desperately.
“Let’s go to bed, hmm?” He asked quietly after you both had begun to calm. You pulled your head off him and looked at him so exhausted but with a glow he loved. You were the pretty girl who took everything he gave her just now but also the pretty girl he was unequivocally in love with
“I can’t feel my legs” you whined with a pout. You felt like you’d be given a lethal dose of euphoric pleasure.
“Oh, my poor baby.” he teasingly cooed, pressing his lips to yours gently. He picked you up sweetly and he wrapped your legs around his waist for you carefully as he carried you back to your bedroom.
Trent had to be at Liverpool’s team hotel tomorrow so he was out the door early. They had a game at MetLife stadium which is in New Jersey but it's for New York sports for context. It was kind of cool. Weird to be in an NFL stadium for football. It just gave off a different vibe. It didn’t feel right but it was more like exhibition games, upcoming season preparation.
“For youuu.” You cooed handing your dad the new LFC kit for the season as you got into his car. You were going to the game with your dad and Teddy. You had driven to the stadium with him from your beach house. Lauren and Winnie were also coming but they weren’t as fussed about the actual match. A lot of people you knew in Manhattan or just in the general TriState area were going to this match because it was an opportunity to see Premier League teams play and party. What was a little funny about it being in America though was that there were tailgates for the game, like it was a US college football game. Lauren and Winnie were within that group. People from college and friends you had from growing up all going together to get drunk. The football match was a second priority.
“You’ve got to come to more matches with me, dad.” You told him as you got to your seats just as the warm-ups for the game were beginning. You watched intently and more closely than most people do enjoying the sleeveless warm up gear Liverpool had on due to the summer heat. Trent looked particularly good, freshly tanned and toned.
“Gotta invite me.” Your dad cooed. “Isn’t that right Teddy girl? Don’t you want mummy to invite Pop Pop over to come see you?” He picked her up. She looked adorable in your opinion. She had on this season’s newest jersey freshly pressed with ‘daddy’ on the back. Bittersweetly for you, you had to get a bigger size now that she was getting older and growing. She had on white ruffled shorts and white adidas samba trainers that had red stripes. You sat through the match constantly having to point daddy out to Teddy. She was way more in tune with what was going on now. She could stand on her own for a few seconds before you’d have to help her. She could point and clap a little bit so games were all that much cuter now. As the end of the 90 minutes approached you got a notification your flight had been moved and you began to panic. You hated when plans shifted. Minor inconveniences really rattled you. The final whistle blew you were able to meet Trent but you were stressed and worried about finding a fix to your flight dilemma.
“My baby bear!!!! Did you have a fun time? Did you clap for dada with mama?” Trent asked, scooping Teddy out of your arms. You just smiled at them scrolling through your phone incessantly. “Hey… you alright, baby?” He looked at you and grabbed your chin with his free hand and lifted it up to make you look at him. He knew the face you gave him well. You were stressed. He knew your brain ran a million miles and hour. Very very different to his but he liked to help you, to help you settle it. “Baby.. take a deep breath for me. What’s going on?”
“Our flight got canceled or moved or I don't know and I have bad service and I need to make sure we get back because Teddy has her check up scheduled at the pediatrician and I already moved it once, and…” you babbled insistently.
“Baby….” Trent cut you off in a soothing voice. It felt like you were the only people in the room for a moment. His calming persona just wafted over you. You dropped your shoulders and took a deep breath in and exhaled it out your nose. Teddy tried to imitate the noises and breaths you took quite funnily. So both you and Trent laughed. “Good girl” Trent cooed to Teddy first. “Thank you.” He kissed your forehead and his hands that were resting on your hips crept up your torso raising the hem of your shirt slightly. “I will fix the flight for you. I’ll handle it, okay? You’ll make the appointment. It’s gonna be fine. Promise.” He kissed your lips this time. You you closed your eyes as your mind settled until you heard an ‘mawf” type noise from the cute little girl in Trent’s arm who was pursing her lips towards him waiting for her kiss from daddy.
You sat in a lounge type area after the game because Trent had a bit of free time and was allowed to come and hang out for a bit. So with him, your dad, Teddy, and a drunk Lauren and Winnie you all caught up.
“How’s Marce?” Lauren leaned forward inquiring about Trent’s brother. Winnie eyes widening with a smile knowing all the dirty details. You were close in age so you did a lot together but after you moved Winnie and Lauren met up more often just the two of them. You were happy they got closer but every Instagram story on a night out you couldn’t be at always made you a tinge jealous. If you and Lauren were trouble, her and Winnie were like hell on wheels. They were playing with fire anywhere they went.
“No, we’re not doing this again.” Trent responded, moving his gaze off of you and Teddy momentarily to look at her. Trent loved Lauren and just was joking but definitely didn’t want things to go any further than they had in the Marcel, Jude, Lauren triangle from Greece.
“Laurennnn” You palmed your forehead. “Laur is silly, huh?” you cooed in a baby voice to Teddy. It was a habit. It just happened, it was your life 24/7. You were a mum. Trent hummed concurring with you wiping his thumb over Teddy’s lips.
“No. Laur is not silly, Teddy girl.” She addressed Teddy but threw a glare at you then flicked her eyes back at Trent. “I asked how your brother is… is that suddenly a big deal?” She quipped back knowing very well her sentiment in asking was laced with a million different innuendos.
“It is when you kiss and tell, Lauren.” Your dad chimed in from his seat further down the table you were sitting at. You laughed hiding in Trent’s neck not knowing he had been listening to the whole conversation. Laurent rolled her eyes at your dad playfully.
“Lauren, you can’t just get with all of the men we have on deck.” Winnie looked at her with glossed eyes, still fairly drunk. “I mean, it’s not like T is helping me with who he has on any roster but…” she quipped with a laugh.
“Men on deck? Roster? Win… They are people and my friends. I'd like to keep my relationships with them and with you two if you don’t mind. Lauren already made her bed.” He rambled back at her with a smile teasing them both but also attempting to justify why he hadn’t set her up.
“They were good in bed though” Lauren chimed in. Trent made a face like he was gonna be sick.
“Ignoring that.” he looked at Lauren then back to Winnie. “Besides, I’m not just going to parade around every dressing room I’m in ‘Lads, anyone want my fiance's sister?’ Am I?”
“Well, you should. What picture do you show when people ask what I look like?” Winnie leaned forward asking both you and Trent.
“Teddy, please ignore everything that is coming out of the left side of the table’s mouth please.” Your dad piped up again. The chaotic conversation continued and definitely didn't get any better when Dom came over to grab Trent to leave. Winnie practically drooling. You said goodbye to Trent with a crying Teddy and it broke your heart. It was always the worst. She’d be okay but she also didn’t understand why daddy had to leave. Trent was knee deep in the few more days of preseason but did fix your flight issues the night after that match. You had to get back to your house, your dogs, your life, and your appointment for Teddy. You flew home with her and way too many bags you assured Trent you could handle but regretted it now. Thankfully you had some help from airport staff but it was still exhausting. You needed to sleep on the flight but had to wait till Teddy was out and even then you could only lightly sleep in case she needed something. You held her against your chest and she was good. You felt like she was getting alot more attached to you. Like something clicked, she felt like you were her home and being attached to you was the safest and comfiest place she could be. Even though she weighed a little more now and it was hard having someone glued to you all the time, it was a nice rewarding feeling.
You stood waiting for your Uber outside of arrivals at the Manchester airport with Teddy and the too many bags you promised you could carry. One of your suitcases tipped over as you attempted to wrangle them all.
“Uh Oh!” you cooed to Teddy making a surprised ‘o’ shape with your mouth and she lit up. She attempted to imitate you. It wasn’t great but it was cute nevertheless. “Yeah, Uh Oh! Teddy” You said once more but in your head you were actually saying ‘shit, shit, shit.’ You leaned over with teddy in your arms and saw a masculine hand grabbing the handle of the luggage before you could. He picked it up and you stood up straight again and looked at him.
“Oh wow… Thank you” You said inspecting a oddly familiar looking face. He was an older man but well kempt, dressed really nicely too.
“Not a problem. Visiting for long?” He asked politely clocking your American accent and what felt like 100 pieces of luggage around you.
“I guess you could say that, I visited a couple years ago… never left though” you candidly explained with a smile. You readjusted your hold of Teddy. You were focused on her but you could feel his eyes examining you.
“Have we met before?” He cooed, taking a closer look at Teddy and then you. Recognizing both faces in different ways almost perplexing him more.
“Hmmm” You thought for a moment. “You know what? Yeah, I think we have. I met you at the end of Liverpool’s last season a few months ago. My fiance introduced us. I believe you know him.” You responded recognizing that you had met this man at the party the club had thrown directly after the final match.
“I knew that face looked familiar. An Alexander-Arnold a mile away.” He cooed. He was talking about Teddy, of course. You hummed politely. “I’d love to talk to you sometime…” He continued talking. You paused a little confused what he was asking so you waited for him to say more. “ I am a lifelong fan of the club but I really work for Condé Nast and I’ve been wanting to do something to better understand the inside. What makes them tick?” He explained but it didn’t really give you any clearer idea of what he meant.
“Makes them tick?” you asked him, still trying to wrap your head around what was happening, while watching your baby, whilst looking for your Uber. You were slightly overstimulated but you were listening best you could.
“Your fiance. How do you make it work? It’s a weird dynamic I imagine. You make their world go round but you have your own life, your own interests. You're not out on pitch on match day. They come home to you, a valuable human, so who are you? I want to know about you." It was strange to hear someone speak about a relationship he didn't know anything about so honestly and almost insightfully like he already knew.
“You said Condé?” You asked just trying to organize this whole thing. You had worked with some of their publications before you moved and dabbled a little here and there after you did but not much anymore. You knew enough about the company though.
“Mostly GQ and Vanity Fair. In fact, that's where I met Trent first. I heard he was coming in for a shoot when a kind editor tipped me off that a footballer from my beloved club was coming in.” He spoke like such an old man, he had grandfather vibes in the best way. It felt like you were talking to stylish Santa in a hilariously endearing way.
“Oh, amazing. Well, I don’t know. I’ve never done any sort of official interview or thing in the public” you babbled starting to feel awkward. This was really uncharted territory. He gave you his card. You inspected it closely. God, this could all be some sort of ruse but it seemed legit as you read it time and time over again. ‘Bentley Brown’
“If you’d ever want to, I’d love to meet you again sometime for a tea or a pint and tell you more about what I think we could do.” You just nodded. “Lovely to meet you both. Best of luck with the season.” You stared at the business card for days after on your dresser in your bedroom. You’d never thought about people wanting to interview you. You’d had a career before and you had an instagram following now but that wasn’t anything official or noteworthy worth being published in print.
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍
Next part - Chapter 13 xx
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On the larger scale I don't know if I'm happy or not but he's bein so so so sweet n good to me it's overwhelming
Silk's been much nicer to me than I expected too, I guess he doesn't see me as competition anymore? Idk but it's nice. Sharing my spot & the responsibility n rewards that come with it has been workin out pretty well, I'm thinkin maybe we managed to find an arrangement that works for all of us.
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rockingbytheseaside · 12 days
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✦ How you have contrasting personalities but they drop everything for you anyway
Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche (separate) 
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They say love can change anyone, but you have yet to agree with this statement. You never wanted anyone to alter themselves for you, especially if that someone is your beloved. Instead, you always believed that people should stay true to themselves while maintaining mutual love and adoration for each other. And that's how you and your beloved were - contrasting in looks, attitudes, and habits. Yet it made your beloved cherish you all the more, even if it caused unsuspecting passers to raise eyebrows in shock… Maybe it's because your beloved is actually a dreaded Fatui Harbinger, and people didn't expect him to be head over heels whenever you’re in the same room. But what can you say? He always was a softie for you. 
✧ Pierro doesn’t attend public gatherings. Period. Ask any of the high-rank Harbingers and they would tell you how lucky it would be if he were even present for a Harbinger’s inauguration, like when Arlecchino was declared 4th or when Tartaglia received his Delusion. Nevertheless, it is clear that The Jester does not squander his time with social events or benign pleasantries; he’s present only on important occasions.
If you can define what’s important in his book, that is.
An example being was a certain Fatui party. It is not uncommon for the Regrator to organize lavish evenings, especially in recognition if a Harbinger obtained a gnosis, or if another significant mission was masterfully accomplished. The grander was the task, the bigger the event would be. Of course, Pierro never attends those either. 
During one of those organized events - you, of all people, decided to come. Dressed in your finest, glittering lotus flower silk and white silver adorned your figure while you timidly stood amongst the high nobles of Snezhnaya. Your presence was not an unwelcome sight, but you did not strive to bring attention to you either. Expensive parties with Fatui diplomats and Snezhnayan aristocrats were not your usual cup of tea.
Your presence did not bring awning gasps, but Pierro’s did. 
Unannounced, the Director arrived at this sudden party, bringing hushed murmurs amongst the crowds of subordinates and colleagues. Likewise, he wore his most exquisite suit, a mantle-like cape flowing elegantly over his broad shoulders. Before guests and attendees could greet his arrival, The Jester marched straight ahead, not bothering to gaze at whoever tried to initiate conversation. 
No, the man’s attention was focused straight at you, as he passed through everyone and swiftly approached you. With an outstretched hand, a knowing gaze was cast upon you, as he spoke:
“If I may,” - he brought the back of your hand closer to his lips “Would you honor me with a dance?” 
You obliged. Now everyone in the gala was gaping at you two with grandiloquent murmurs. 
“My most cherished, why did you not warn me you’d attend the ball?” - The Jester whispered to your ear, his gloved hand intertwined with yours as the two of you waltzed elegantly. 
“Well, I just thought it would be futile to bother you. You usually hate such occasions.” - you muttered back, overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting his icy gaze; a gaze that only looked at you in tender love and yearning.   
“Then may I inquire on why you decided to attend this one? You avoid them as well.” 
“Okay, just please don’t laugh,” - you whispered. As Pierro kept a hand on your waist, he danced with you across the ballroom, using his broad form to shield you from the unwelcoming gazes of the guests. “You gifted me this fancy attire that I kept hiding in my closet for many months… I simply didn’t have a reason to wear it. So I forced myself to go out just so I could have the excuse of wearing something nice. U-um, that’s it.”  
“And that’s it, love?” 
“...Yeah,” - you nodded defeatedly “Also because I didn’t want to busy you from work.” 
“Oh, my most beloved.” - The Director emitted a hushed chuckle as you two conversed and danced, making sure his words were heard only by you. “I can make all your attires gala-worthy if you so desire. You do not need to be coy, ask and I shall accompany you on any grand occasion." 
Thus, the jester may not attend social events, as he only frequents important ones - the ones you're in, that is. As he whisked you away with a dance and a dip, he kept his hand delicate around you to escape the company of noisy guests who wished to bother you two. But what would be a ball with his lips gently grazing your cheeks at the end of each dance, telling you: 
“Besides, I cannot allow other attendees to assume you are available, now can I? Not while you look so stunning tonight.” 
✧ When Il Capitano was first spotted with you during workout practice, people didn’t even fathom you were his beloved, the only person equal to the Captain. The two of you were simply so…  opposite. The Harbinger was big and imposing, while you were smaller and approachable; which isn’t even a fair comparison, because Capitano just towers over anyone. Everyone looks small next to him! 
Nevertheless, when Capitano had his usual daily practicum along with his rumored significant other, some Fatui soldiers tried to sneak glimpses. Yet what a jarring spectacle it was to see the immovable, assertive Harbinger dismiss his commanding tone in favor of being patient and attentive. 
“My dear, you’ve already run a set of laps and tried to outbeat me during pushup exercises. You are putting too much strain on your ankles after your previous training. We should-” 
“No, we can still go for another round! Fight me!” 
“But, my love-” 
“Fight me!!!”    
Anyway, the fight abruptly subsided. Not because you lost, but because Capitano swiftly lifted you into his arms the instant you launched yourself onto him, consequently refusing to put you down. Therefore, you find yourself being carried by your partner's muscled arms while your feet dangle.
“Aw man, not fair…” - you mumbled, settling to rest on Capitano's forearms. “It's not even a duel if you're just lifting me like a toddler. Set me down, Cappy!” 
“It’s an effective tactic, one that easily neutralizes a hotheaded opponent like yourself.” - Capitano explained calmly. In reality, his body moved with pride as he held onto you securely, as if you were his prized reward for today's training. 
The captain set you down, his armored hands trailing down to your leg, sending a tingling graze onto your skin. And indeed, his punctilious gaze spotted how you tried to hide a limp when exercising. 
“You sprained your ankle,” - Capitano stated.
“Listen, it's not a big deal. Just a strain, I had worse happen.” 
You tried to defend yourself, but The Harbinger already expected your excuses. The man knew better than to argue with you, and instead settled on removing your footwear and gently checking on your injury.
“This is no condition to continue training, my dear. If I let you continue, you'd stubbornly reach Celestia with bloodied knuckles and broken limbs.”
“Yeah! And you bet I'd win!’” - you retorted brightly. At the sight of your confident smile, Capitano chuckled deeply, his pitch-black helmet pressing into your forehead with tender motion.
“I am certain you will, my love. You'll drag The Heavenly Principles by the ear, and have them weeping by your gaze alone. But now, we should get you to rest and apply some ice to your ankle. Shall I carry you?”
You sighed deeply, having no option but to let your beloved's experienced hands help you with your soreness. “Oh well… fine.”
Capitano's training could wait. There was a more crucial matter at hand, literally. With his massive yet calm form carrying you away, your gaze remained fierce but forbearing. 
If some Fatui soldiers witnessed today's event, they'd have to conceal their inconspicuous glances and smiles. After all, the sight of Il Capitano being the big, loving teddy-bear, while you being a menacing gremlin was undoubtedly shock-inducing.  
Nonetheless, who else is worthy of being carried by the 1st Fatui Harbinger and pampered by him? Only you, of course.
✧ Il Dottore is a destructive, stern man. Hunched over the examination table, his gloved hands were tainted in blood while his jaw clenched in aggravation. His hours of working in the lab easily make him irritated, and this irritation further increases whenever certain scientific experiments do not bear fruit. A tense air of suspension was now lingering in his lab; a sign of an upcoming violent outburst.
“Lord Harbinger…” - one of Dottore's lab assistants began, trying to muster the courage to speak without shaking. “This experiment requires another round of testing, w-we might need to start over,”
The Doctor remained still, but the dangerous clutch of the scalpel in his hand didn't go unnoticed. “Perhaps I did not make myself clear?” 
He straightened his shoulders, his masked expression gleaming with malice and murderous intent with each syllable hissed.
“I have given you one simple task. Bring me the results. If this experiment is not completed by tomorrow at the earliest, I will have to remind you how brittle, and puny your useless bones can be-”
Suddenly, the lab door slams open. From the heavy metal doorway, a hasty but familiar person quietly saunters in, unknowingly saving the poor soul that was about to be Dottore's next target. Of course, the person in question is - you. 
“Dottore?” A small murmur escaped you. You stepped closer to Dottore and tugged at his sleeve. “I’m sorry, I can't sleep…” 
An abrupt silence settled in the lab. 
The unnerving tension of the lab was diverted as if a switch was flipped in Dottore's brain. The man swiftly set his scalpel aside, discarded his bloody gloves, and turned into a softer tone when talking to you. 
“Hm, is it so late already? I apologize dear, time must've slipped past me. Do you want me to brew us some tea and join you in bed?”
“Yes, please… Chamomile. if you're not busy, of course.” - you nodded, a tender smile settling on your face.
The sight was fascinating. The eccentric, mad scientist was instantly replaced by a doting partner, who would lower himself to kneel before you and put his hands on your shoulders as if all his lab work and blood-stained messes were already forgotten. Dottore's assistants were indeed quite baffled when you entered the lab. But what was more confusing is that the sudden change of attitude was so drastic, that they all froze in silence and subordination. The poor, unfortunate underlings; one minute dealing with their Lord Harbinger's harsh demeanor, and the other witnessing him hugging you and gazing at you like a lovesick puppy. 
“Perhaps it’s time to wind down for today. I was about to finish for today, anyway. I'll make your tea as you like it and accompany you in bed, dearest.” - Dottore's hand gently rested on your back, as he leisurely ushered you to leave with him. 
“And as for the experiments,” - just before the Harbinger could leave with you in his arms, he sent an ominous glance towards his assistants, one that even through a mask portrayed lethal resolve - “deal with it.”  
Oh well. Someone is staying overtime in the lab. That's how The Doctor was with his work - cruel and unattached. However, unbeknownst to people, when he's back with you in bed, that man is clinging to you throughout the night, groaning about his research while burying his head against your chest. His face takes refuge against the warmth of your body, arms encircling you in a needy embrace around your torso. 
Sometimes, he just needs a good squeeze from you when you cuddle him, that's all.  
✧ A day cannot be concluded if there wasn’t a single instance where Scaramouche’s grumbles weren’t accompanied by your bright grins. Scaramouche has a reputation for his sour disposition whenever he is discontented, that much is known. What isn't known is that the only person who tolerates his cynicism is someone as bright and cheerful as you. Like two sides of the same coin.  
“Hmph, Pathetic. Just because some flowers are blooming doesn’t mean it requires a whole festival to be commemorated for.”  
“Oh, come on, Scara. You accompany me to every Hanami event.” - you smiled back in response to the Harbinger’s scoffs, but the 6th crossed his arms. 
“They are no different each year. Same cherry blossoms, same food stalls you drool over.” 
“But Scara…! The Dango!” 
That’s how the two of you wind up in a narrow cobble street, protected under the soft shadows of cherry blossom, while cascading pink petals gently fall around you. Well, that is how you wind up here, while Scaramouche was naturally dragged by you. Arms linked with one another, the Puppeteer kept his iconic look of displeasure, a huge contrast to your joyous one. One would assume The Harbinger could easily flee your torment and make you scram, but on the contrary: 
He is the one who makes sure your hand is intertwined with his, says “To keep you from running away like a child in a crowd”. 
He is the one running his thumb over your skin, his hand squeezes yours, and says “Don’t get too excited over the food stalls.”      
He is the one rushing with you to find a good secluded spot, away from the crowd, while his hand pulls you closer by the waist, and says “It’s too loud. Here, stay closer.” 
And of course, he is the one buying your favorite Hanami Dango and says “You asked for it so you better enjoy it. And make sure to chew it properly - dango is sticky.” 
For someone who underlines his disapproval vocally, he sure pampers you with no objection about your interests. You’d muse and tease, saying that it was his way of enjoying flower viewing without saying it. However, before you could utter the words, a strong gust of spring wind blew past the street, sending a plethora of flower petals blowing into everyone’s faces. You shielded your eyes, whereas Scaramouche gently tugged at his ichimegasa hat, pulling you closer to further shield you. 
“See? I told you this yearly custom is a nuance.” - he lamented, but his words came out more as a murmur than a groan, perhaps because he held you directly in his proximity. Your faces were closer, and the veil of his hat served as concealment from any public eyes. 
You’d smile. He sure complained a lot, and Scaramouche didn’t like sweet deserts like you did. But whenever the opportunity arose, he’d make sure he had you under the veil of his hat, pressed flush by the hip to him. And if he was lucky, he might taste the sweetness of Dango through your lips instead.  
Listen, I'm a sucker for fluff, okay?
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bimbobaggins69 · 7 months
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𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖍
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succubus steve x eddie munson x girlfriend reader
summary: after finding a weird book of summoning spells from the library, your boyfriend eddie proposes an idea where you’d put the spells to good use, but what happens when you both actually summon a succubus demon who’s been starved of his lustful desires for centuries.
warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, monster fucking, big dick steve, mmf threesome, oral sex ( f & m receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex, dom!steve, sub!eddie, sub!reader, spit as lube, being spanked and choked by a tail, squirting, breeding kink, cream pie.
authors note: another one shot for y’all, hope you like! As always thank you to my baby loves @xxhellfiregirlxx & @take-everything-you-can for beta reading, and always listening to my crazy ideas <3
wc: 3.1k
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“This is such a bad idea.” You grumble as Eddie’s eyes squint, trying to make out the scription that was hastily written in the black leatherback book your boyfriend had found when he was in the library, browsing the shelves for a new fantasy book.
Instead, he found a creepy looking one filled with summoning spells and incantations.
“C’mon babe, this shit isn’t real. Who would leave a legit book of spells in a library? A Hawkins library, no less.” He huffs with a devious smirk “the only demon you’ll be summoning tonight is this big dick having one, right here.” He pacifies before chuckling at his own words as he continues drawing out the intricate looking pentagram.
You scoff and roll your eyes as you sit on your shared bed, socked feet dangling off the side as you watch the metalhead; his tongue poking out while he curves the chalk, finishing off the circle.
He quickly looks up at you in disbelief, “what? You tryna say I don’t have a big cock?” He taunts as his lips curl up into a mocking smile. “Oh Eddie, I don’t think it’ll fit! Your cock is so big! You stretch my pussy out so good!” He teases in a high pitched voice that you are certain, sounds absolutely nothing like you.
“I sound nothing like that you ass!” You screech as you pick up and throw the black bunny stuffie your boyfriend had recently won for you at the Hawkins annual All Hallow’s Fall Festival.
“Baby! You’re gonna fuck up my masterpiece. C’mon!” Eddie cries as he throws it back where it previously sat, between your two pillows.
“Well I don't sound like that…I sound way hotter.” You protest before playfully sticking your tongue out at him, making the boy quickly jump to his black boot clad feet and lunging at you. You both fall back onto the plush mattress as Eddie's body weighs you down.
“Stick your tongue out at me again and I'm gonna bite it.” He playfully growls in your ear before softly biting at your lobe.
“Ed’s I can't breathe, get off!” You can no longer hold back your giggles when he begins nuzzling his nose into your neck.
“Okay, undress and put that silk robe on. I'm gonna go stand in the closet and when I come back out, I’m no longer Eddie, okay?” He reminds you as his nose sweetly rubs against yours. “You remember what you're supposed to say?” Your boyfriend questions before standing up and making his way to the closet, dramatically whipping open the bi-fold doors before clambering his lanky body inside.
“Yes, of course I do.” You mutter before standing up and making quick work of removing your cropped t-shirt, little sleep shorts, lace panties and socks.
Eddie winks at you then quickly closes the doors. You slip your silk robe on, loosely tying it around your body before crouching down to get on your knees in front of the pentagram and black burning candles. You wait a few minutes before you begin to recite the words on the paper:
Lilith, please receive this offering. I give this truthfully and willingly
May the light of these candles burn brightly and guide your son to me
The light from the candles flicker as a heavy draft from your cracked window seeps in, sending a deep chill down your spine.
The closet doors burst open and Eddie steps out, wearing a shit eating grin and red devil horns he had picked up from the local costume shop. He was shirtless, his tattoos on full display, black jeans laying low on his hips showing off his deep v lines you always went crazy for, the chain wallet he often wore caught your attention as it swayed while he sauntered over, boots stopping right in front of the pentagram you were kneeled behind.
“Hello, little one.” Eddie growled, but something off in the corner of the room caught your attention, a black figure that swiftly moved out of the shadows, white teeth gleaming as he sent you a sinister smile.
“Holy shit.” You murmur, making Eddie’s face break character as he curiously follows your eyes to the shaggy haired demon who had now fully revealed himself to you both.
Eddie’s whole body turns in shock as his black boots side step the perfectly laid out incantation.
“Holy fuck!” Your boyfriend shouts as the back of his knees hit the bed, he quickly loses his balance, body bouncing off the mattress as his eyes almost pop out of his head from his state of panic. “Who the fuck are you? W-what do you want?” He stammers, his voice cracking as it came out too high pitched for his liking.
You sit there with wide eyes, your body feeling as if it's being weighed down by a ton of bricks and unable to move as the demon studies you, from head to toe before hungirly licking his blood red lips.
“Well you summoned me, silly child.” The demon says before he begins to study your boyfriend.
“N-no, w-we didn't mean to.” You finally spoke before standing up and moving closer to Eddie, but as you do your robe slips open exposing your bare breast and cunt to the demon.
The succubus looks around with a snarl on his face.
“Oh but it looks as though you did, little mortal.” He chuckles as his eyes find the leatherback book splayed out on the floor. “What is the meaning of this if you did not summon me?” He asks as his clawed hand motions to the summoning circle.
“We were roleplaying.” Eddie admits as his cheeks tinge pink from his confession.
“Roleplaying?” The demon questions before he stops right in front of you, his glowing eyes take in you and your boyfriends terrified faces.
“Y-yeah, we uh well I was gonna play the demon and she was supposed to summon me, then we’d ya’ know?” Eddie stutters before making a crude gesture to the demon.
“Hmm, I see.” The succubus says as his clawed hands rub against the soft skin of his chin.
The closeness gave you and Eddie the opportunity to take in the horned monster's face, his rather human looking face. He had dark curled horns surrounded by perfectly coiffed brown hair, honey brown eyes that appeared to change to a glowing yellow when he was excited. His face and body were covered in beauty marks, he was dressed in clothes that looked like they were from centuries ago but his arms were big and muscular and his hands were veiny with long pointed claws. You and Eddie couldn’t help but to think he was fucking beautiful, enthralling.
“W-what’s your name?” You ask as your robe slips back open, revealing your hardened nipples to both males.
“You may call me Steve, my sweet one.” The succubus purrs before his hand reaches out towards your bare breasts, his clawed thumb gently rubbing against your peaked bud, making you shiver but you make no attempts to move away.
“Hey man.” Your boyfriend demurs, but the words come out weaker than intended.
“Shh, little lamb.” Steve murmurs, bringing the same hand he’d just caressed you with, up to Eddie’s lips “You’ll get your turn.” He winks at the boy, whose eyes are now cartoonishly bulging from his head.
Steve steps closer to you both, his very prominent erection now making itself known, as his hands move to yours and Eddie’s faces. He rubs his thumbs over both sets of your lips as he moves in closer towards the metalhead sitting beside you.
“Would you like that, pretty boy?” The demon solicits, his lips mere inches from your boyfriends, so close that Eddie could feel Steve’s shallow breaths.
Eddie had never found men much attractive but he couldn’t deny the allure he felt for the demon standing before him.
“I-I would.” He admits with a slight nod of his head before the succubus pulls him into a passionate kiss, tongues swirling against each other as you look on in desperate arousal.
“Mmm.” The demon hums after he pulls back. “I need to fuck you both.” He declares before bringing his swollen lips to yours, he licks into your mouth making you moan into the kiss, he removes your robe and slips it off your body. His hands rub over your tits, down your sides and land on your hips, holding you tightly as his lips continue to move against yours.
“Sit on his face, sweet one.” Steve demands, easily lifting your hips and moving you further back on the bed.
“Lay back for me, little lamb.” The demon tells Eddie before he falls to his knees and makes rapid movements to remove the metalheads belt, button and zipper. Eddie lifts his hips up, helping the succubus as he roughly rips his jeans down the rest of the way.
You straddle Eddie’s face, your glistening pussy captures Steve’s attention as he now hungrily eyes you and your boyfriend's sexes.
“I haven’t played with such a pretty cunt and cock in what seems like eons.” The demon groans before taking Eddie’s tip into his mouth and sucking.
Eddie moans as his tongue swirls over your swollen clit, he takes your bundle of nerves into his mouth and lightly sucks. Your head falls back in pleasure before he’s gliding his tongue down and licking into your pussy, tasting your sweet nectar. His favorite flavor.
The succubus working between your boyfriend's thighs takes his cock further into his mouth before wrapping his abnormally long tongue around the metalhead's girthy length. Eddie’s eyes roll back as he continues to lick and suck you. The rings on his fingers are digging into you just as his black polished nails are, creating a sting that amplifies your pleasure tenfold.
“Fuck, your tongue feels so good Eddie!” You whimper as you feel your orgasm creeping up on the horizon.
When you bring your head back down, your eyes immediately meet the glowing pair you've vaguely grown familiar with. His long snake-like tongue moves up from Eddie’s asshole to his balls, then up to lick the beads of precum that had built up in his absence while his long, wet, pink muscle made its travels further south.
“Are you going to cum, little one?” Steve questions before his tongue dashes out to lick at his obscenely wet lips.
“Mmhm!” You whine as your mouth drops open into the perfect little ‘o’ as heavy moans begin to fill the room.
The demon crawls up your boyfriends body, straddling his waist, rubbing their cocks together as he begins licking at your clit while Eddie fucks you with his tongue.
“Cum for us.” Steve demands, his thumb now taking over, making swift gentle circles.
“Oh! Oh!” You mewl as your legs shake, knees digging into the mattress as you ride your boyfriend's tongue, while the succubus continues to rub circles on your sodden clit.
“That’s it, pretty thing. Yes, that’s it!” Steve growls, hips still bucking creating the perfect friction as his and Eddie’s cocks rub together, both of them leaking with need.
Once you’ve come down from the euphoria, Steve manhandles you off of the long haired boy and onto your back before he grabs Eddie’s glistening chin and begins licking your slick off of his lips, he quickly dips his tongue into the other boys mouth moaning as he sucks your taste off of the metalheads wet muscle.
When they finally come up for air, the demon turns his attention back on you, making his way between your twitching legs.
“Here is what is going to happen, little doves…” Steve huffs as his eyes roam over your body that lay still beneath him. “I am going to fuck her little cunt as you fuck me.” He growled, his glowing eyes now on Eddie.
“Uh, okay.” Your boyfriend mutters as if he still hasn’t fully comprehended what’s happening, but his cock is so painfully hard and throbbing he’ll do whatever you or Steve asks of him.
“You..” he says as he points a long nailed finger in your flushed face, “on all fours. Now.”
You do your best to move quickly while the demon is still kneeling between your spread thighs. Once you’ve successfully shifted your body onto your knees, head face down into your sheets as you arch your ass nice and high for him. When you begin to wiggle in anticipation a quick whip is descended onto your backside, making you wail out in pain and pleasure.
That definitely was not his hand!
You look over to Eddie whose eyes are wide as his hand comes to a full stop around his cock.
“Holy shit, was that a tail?” Eddie asks in disbelief.
you look back at Steve who is now rubbing his tip along your entrance, gathering your wetness onto the heated skin. You decide to confirm you and your boyfriend’s suspicions when you wiggle your hips impatiently again, and just as Eddie had said a black spiked tail came out from behind the demon giving you another good lashing that made your eyes water and your teeth bite down so hard on your bottom lip you could practically taste the blood.
In one swift motion the demon plunges his big, girthy cock inside of you, steadily dragging it against your walls before his thrusts slowly begin to speed up into an unforgiving pace.
Steve looks down at where Eddie is still sprawled, the look on his face is that of utter shock.
“Get back there and fuck me. Now.” The succubus growled as his eyes glowed, before desperately hissing from the tightness of your pussy around him.
Steve hadn’t been fucked by another man in centuries, and holyfuckingshit if he wasn’t the most backed up he’d ever been, but I guess that’s what happens when you haven’t been summoned in a millennia. He needed that ultimate power of fucking and being fucked.
“Well, I’ve never fucked a guy before… do I need something to make it wet before I-I…” your sweet, sweet boyfriend bashfully asks Steve.
“Just spit will do.” The demon groans, as his once erratic hips fall to a leisurely pace.
The metalhead spits on his fingers before he’s bringing the big glob between Steve’s cheeks and timidly rubbing it against his puckered hole.
“Mmm, that’s it.” The succubus hisses before Eddie begins to slowly sink his middle finger into the tight hole, it almost sucks him in immediately and he bottoms out to the knuckle within seconds, god he’s so tight and warm, Eddie couldn’t wait to be engulfed in his little asshole. Those are words he never thought he’d utter to himself. But here we are.
Once he’s gotten three fingers in, and has pumped them in and out enough times to successfully find the demon's prostate.
Eddie removes them before spitting on his tip for extra lubrication, then lines his hard, aching cock up with Steve’s hole and slowly but surely pushes in.
The feeling that comes over both males is very obvious as throaty grunts and groans fill the room. Finally Steve starts to pick up his pace as he fucks into you with reckless abandon. You can feel your boyfriend fucking the demons cock into you even harder, which causes more wetness drip from your stretched hole and down to the succubus’ balls that harshly slap against your clit.
“Oh! Yes, fuck that’s so good!” You whine as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
The grunts coming from your boyfriend who’s hands now roughly grab at your waist, using you to fuck himself deeper into the hole he’s pounding, and Steves hisses and whimpers, make you feel as though you’re floating on the precipice of blinding white pleasure.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Mmhm.” You continue to moan as you’re being fucked absolutely dumb.
“You hear that?” Eddie whispers into the demon's ear, “you’re making my girl feel so good, am I making you feel good, too?” Your boyfriend questions before licking at the succubus’ neck, then taking a chunk of skin between his teeth and biting before it turns into a harsh suck.
“Yes, yes you are making me feel so good!” Steve howled, the pleasure of both you and your boyfriend had the demon’s thoughts disintegrating into nothing but filling and being filled.
When you begin to fuck yourself on Steve’s cock, pushing back to engulf even more of him into your soaked walls, his tail swings out from behind him, swiftly wrapping around your neck and pulling your body up towards his.
“Am I fucking you good, little one?” Steve murmurs into your ear, creating a pleasant chill down your spine.
“Yes, it feels so fucking good!” You admit once his tail loosens from around your throat.
“Are you going to cum for me?” He whispers again, both males' hands caress your body as your high begins to peak.
You can hear Eddie mutter over Steve’s neck “cum for us baby.” The acknowledgement from the love of your life sets off your orgasm as you begin to shake and writh making the demon's tail tighten around your neck creating the most perfect spacey feeling that has your high lasting far longer than usual. A splash of liquid hits Steve’s thighs as your moans grow louder.
“Fuck!” Steve growls, his tail completely leaving your neck and swooping back to where it came from, causing you to fall face first into the mattress, tears and drool wetting the sheets beneath you as he drills harder into you, the need for his release makes him move at an inhuman pace.
Eddie stills allowing the demon the fuck himself on the metalheads cock as there is no way he can keep up with the thrusts he’s fucking you with.
“I’m going to breed this little fucking cunt, while your boyfriend breeds my asshole.” Steve hisses into your neck, before his groans get louder and his warm spunk shoots deep within your walls.
Steve clenches so tightly around Eddie’s cock, milking the cum right out of him as it shoots into his used up hole. Your boyfriend whimpers and whines at the feeling of being completely squeezed of every last drop.
Eddie falls beside you, both of you panting to catch your breaths, bodies mere seconds from being taken under by drowsiness.
Your boyfriend moves the hair out of your face before playfully pinching at your cheeks, the demon looks on at the tender display of affection between two lovers, it makes his chest tighten with an unfamiliar feeling.
“Oh, but we are not done, we have all night and my hunger has yet to be satiated.”
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𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 & 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜!
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spncvr · 1 month
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HIII I kinda suck at writing so maybe you could take my idea and use your amazing writing skills and make something of it? (Only if you want ofc!!) hear me out yk how Spencer rambles about random facts and everything at the bau imagine if he had a partner (was a profiler as well) and that knew a lot about musics or movies and would ramble about it to him?
Ignore this if it sounds stupid 😭
rambles | s. reid
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summary: you talk a lot, spencer doesn't mind.
pairing: spencer reid x reader
warnings: okay so idk if this counts as gn!reader?? but reader wears a dress lol. drinking, and again my terrible english,, lmk if i missed anything!
a/n: hey beautiful!! this deffo does not sound stupid i had fun writing it but this is so bad im sorry i didn't do u justice *crying emoji* also im so sorry this took me forever to finish LMAOOO
masterlist
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YOU CAN FEEL it.
In your spine, in your ears. The song’s quiet but it had you in its grip, tight and firm—music’s always been like that to you. It didn’t matter if it was Hendrix, Queen or even Chopin; it has always been the one thing to make you stop dead at your feet. It’s a feeling you can’t quite put your finger on. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could possibly describe how it made you feel. Perhaps, you think humorously, you ought to learn another language, or two. 
You’re wearing this dress. This sweet, white silk thing that sweeps against your knees each time you take a step. The taste of expensive wine sits against your lips, lingering. The glass rests idly around your hand and your grip is careful. Expensive red wine and a cheap dress don't usually mix well together. 
“You okay?” 
You smile, teeth and all. Spencer who’s found his place next to you, furrows his eyebrows worry painted against his soft features. He looks tired. But he’s here, with the rest of the team; he always is.
“Fine,” you say, blasé. “You, Dr. Reid?”
His eyebrows raise slightly, “Yeah, fine.” then, “nice dress.” It’s a small whisper. 
You brush your tongue against the wine on your lips. The comment catches you off guard—especially when he’s dressed like this and looks at you like that. So, all that leaves your wine-stained lips is a small: “Oh.” then, because you remember your manners you say, “Thank you.”
The song changes, and Spencer smiles, “The songs—” he says “they’re nice.”
“I—” You stop yourself from rambling because really, they’re more than nice. It’s Elle Fitzgerald. She’s—Her voice, her instrument is clear as a bell, with diction that’s almost impossible to misunderstand. Her rhythm is— well it’s, you can set her as the metronome for her own band. Which, well, isn’t exactly easy to do. The way she’s able to scoop and bend her pitches with such precision is, beyond, nice. So the song, really it’s, more than nice, it’s a masterpiece it’s—
“Uh, yeah, s’nice.” you pause, “More than nice, really.”
Spencer smiles, amused, “More than nice?” he echoes.
You clear your throat, “It— yeah. I mean, it’s Fitzgerald, you know…”
“I don’t know,” he says simply.
Figures, you think. “No, yeah. She’s, like, got this tone in her voice, you know? And it’s like she’s the one leading the band— with the rhythm, I mean. As in like, instead of the drummer, which isn’t exactly easy to do. You know, actually, some people say she — she’s got the voice of an angel. Or something along the lines; can’t really remember and—” you pause, slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve been talking.
“Er, sorry,” you mumble sheepishly. The edge of your shoes had suddenly become increasingly interesting. “didn’t mean to go on a tangent.”
Spencer kisses his teeth, and you look up to find him grinning. “No, uh,” he scratches the edge of his eyebrow. “You don’t need to apologize for talking about something you like.” He seems to think about his next words as he brushes his hand against your arm. It sends a shiver that lingers longer than the touch itself. Spencer Reid could be so cruel sometimes. 
“I love listening to you talk.”
Your dress ends up wine-stained, anyway.
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as usual my inbox is always open for requests (or just to talk lol) but it will take 192374 years to actually finish it,, reblogs are soo appreciated !! (u guys r always so kind idk why im asking for them) so is feedback btw!! (despretely in need of some)
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daisybvck · 5 months
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𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨
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𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 : Bucky Barnes x reader
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 : Your superior agent Bucky Barnes just wants the best for you, right ?
𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 : 18+, smut, Bucky Barnes as a fucking whole, dubcon/noncon, cockwarming, manipulation, praise
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Bucky had invented a way to manipulate you into fucking him. And honestly; he was pretty proud of himself. When he approached you last week and offered some one-on-one training, you jumped at the chance. No one else is able to perform domain expansions like him, who were you to turn down additional support? You'd do anything to get ahead in your training, and the better you were, the better help you'd be in the field
You were grateful, albeit a little confused when he didn't invite you out to go into the compound gym Instead, he drove you to his apartment.
But that's okay... Right?
He probably has tools and things here he needs to get before he heads out. Although you've never actually seen him use anything besides that blunt butterfly knife. That's okay too, just because he doesn't use any other weapon isn't to say he doesn't have others. It's the only logical explanation as to why you were in his apartment right now. He was finding a spare tool just for you!
Alas, that suspicion was dashed as you watched Bucky remove his tie, calmly. Before you could ask what he was doing, he tied the silk accessory around your neck. You would have objected; but you were just totally lost for words at what was happening. When there was a secure knot around your neck, he tugged you closer to him.
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Please remove your clothes... Slowly." he demanded. He backed away to form a gap between you both. He wanted to see you do as you were instructed and enjoy the display. He began unbuttoning the top button his dress shirt.
"I don't_"
"Speak up if you have something to say he interjected, insulting your whispering tone. You couldn't help it. Your throat practically closed all on its own.
"I don't- why are you- how is this going to help?" you stuttered. His vision sharpened in on you. The stuttering displeased him, immensely. “I'm just not sure how removing our clothes is going to make me a better sorcerer.”
"Are you questioning me?"
"No! I just-" you choked as you found yourself being dragged closer to the blonde man before you once again.
He looked down sternly into your eyes, his lips in a tight line as he planned his next words. You knew he was preparing to chew you out. But what he was actually doing was attempting to come up with a plausible lie to manipulate you into thinking this is acceptable conduct from a superior.
"The avengers are all about endurance. Whoever has the weakest will to go on, less energy to fight, will lose. This is to help you. But if you're too selfish-” he trailed off, knowing the idle threat of removing the opportunity from you would have you at his beck and call.
“I’m not selfish! 'm sorry Bucky, just didn't understand!”
“Please... Please help me. I'm so grateful, promise." you whimpered pathetically. You even began to remove your clothing for him, just as he'd asked. Better late than never, he supposes.
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He joins you in continuing to take off more articles of clothing. He's satisfied with the speed you find yourself naked. While shirtless, he pauses to inspect your body.
He has waited an awfully long time to see you like this. In this vulnerable, intimate state. And you're too dense to realise it's all a rouse. But he'll never tell, and he's sure you'll keep it secret too. God forbid any of the others discover his sick little plan. If you're both careful, both smart about this, you could probably do this forever. You feel a little embarrassed under his harsh gaze, using your arms to cover whatever intimate areas as best you can.
He tuts once and shakes his head.
"Don't do that. You have a fine body, beautiful in fact." he admits. You don't really want to uncover yourself, but you do as he asks regardless. He raises his index finger, whistling as he spins it through the air. You obey his speechless command and spin around. You're unsure if he wants you to do a 360° or 180°.
"Stop." he speaks while your back is facing him.
He comes up behind you, palming his hands over the flesh of your right cheek. He knows you're only doing it because you're uncomfortable, but he's revelling in the way you're squirming around under his touch.
Has it been a while for you, perhaps? Just as it had been quite some time for him? You yip as you feel his palm collide with your soft flesh.
"I want you to remove my trousers and underwear for me.” he informs you. You're spun around to be facing him, and soon he's pressing down on your shoulders, indicating that he wants you on your knees. He doesn't mind that you are fumbling and taking too long. He knows this is a lot for you to handle out of the blue. He can see in the way your whole body shakes that you're terrified, but he'll be gentle with you - mostly.
Finally his member springs free and thumps against his chiselled body. Even he cracks a little smile on that serious expression when he notices your eyes bulge in fascination. The little patches of drool forming in the corner of your mouth don't go unnoticed either.
It's so pretty. The prettiest you've ever seen. If Nanami didn't know any better, he'd thinking you were falling in love. He couldn't believe you were genuinely salivating over his dick like this. What else were you meant to do?
The tip was pink and pretty, the type of pink that makes you feel giddy. The head wasn't particularly large, but the slit was delectable, too. A gorgeous hole that you wanted nothing more than to tease with your tongue. And it was already leaking for you. So pearly and drippy. The length was admirable, too. It was a just perfect girth; and not too veiny. Two distinct veins ran along the underside his his length.
You couldn't take it anymore. You had to have it, to taste it. But before you could swallow him up, he yanked on your makeshift leash and tugged you away from his erection.
"Not today.
"But-"
"This is business, not pleasure, remember?" he reminded you. You nodded, dumbly. How could you be so stupid? It was so amusing to him. His sweet, naïve girl. “When I sit down, you're going to sink yourself down onto me." he instructed. You squinted at him in confusion, it seemed like an over explanatory way of saying he wanted to have sex with you.
"You want me to ride you." It's a statement, not a question. Because that is what it sounds like he wants, but he shakes his head. What a silly girl you are. There's more to life than fucking.
"I just want your cunt wrapped around me."
Your knees were either side of his thighs as your pussy enveloped his desperate, wanting cock. It shocked you that Bucky was such a gentle kisser, very sweet and tender. Even as he moved from your lips to other parts of your body, he was never rough with you. Featherlight kisses worked down to your neck, your shoulders, and eventually the soft flesh of your breasts.
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This is the extent of your encounter, this is all you'd been doing with him for the last half an hour. His lips and wet tongue felt perfect around your protruding nipples; but now it was nowhere near close to enough. You were so full, full of him, and yet there was no relief. His cock head was nuzzled snuggly in your cunt. It would be so easy for him to fuck up into you, granting both the release you desperately craved. But he had forbade it. He stilled your attempt at riding him by digging his fingers into your hips and slamming you back down in place.
"Sit still for me sweetheart.?
"'s too hard! Too hard Bucky!"
It was embarrassing. Wriggling around in his lap like a desperate virgin. It was out of your control now. Your cunt was soaking wet because of him and he could feel the way your sopping walls clenched around him. Even he has to admit that he can barely hold himself back anymore.
"You're never going to reach my level if you can't endure.
A little pathetic aren't you, hm?" he taunts. It's mean an unnecessary, but it's all part of a larger scheme. If you feel like you've failed, you'll be desperate to do it again and prove him wrong. And he can keep up this charade for as long as he can get away with.
"I- I can't! James please, I can't wait any longer. Fuck me! I need it, need it s'bad!" you are nearly screaming as you beg and plead with him to make your dreams a reality. He hushes you as he repositions himself ever so slightly. He needs to get a more comfortable angle if he wants you to see what he's truly capable of. Bucky kisses the shell of your ear a few times and coos. He's going to make it better, he's going to make you feel better.
"So obedient for me angel, aren't you?" he whispers to you, bouncing you lightly on the length of his cock. It's not enough, you know it and he knows it. He's just getting started. He picks up the pace as he aligns his mouth to whisper into your ear once again. "You're such a good girl when you're begging for cock. the vibrations of his voice traverse directly into your ear and make you shudder. He grunts harshly as his whispering results in your cunt clamping him in a vice grip once again.
"Wanna be a good girl... Wanna be a good agent!" you explain. He shushes you again and praises you for your determination. His thumbs are put to use when tears spill from your eyes; the pleasure of his cock finally pleasing you feeling so heavenly and so intense all in one.
"Good girls... Good agents can endure their training”
“Good girls aren't desperate to get fucked by their superiors." he hums. He does feel a little guilty. He's chastising you for no good reason, after all. He wanted
this just as much as you did - if not more so, in fact. But the way you sniffle at his words dashes any guilt he felt.
You really are a good girl.
“sorry B-Bucky. I'II do- I'II do better n-next time!”
“Promise!" you stutter, hoping to get your point across.
You know you're understood when his index finger and thumb find your chin, tilting your face to his. His lips meet yours in another sweet, delicate kiss.
"Ah, yes." he begins, "Clever girl. Next time."
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imababblekat · 3 months
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TmnT Boy's Reaction To April's Roomie Dressing Nice; Hc's
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Anon request, "Hey so I have a quick request- but first ima say that I love your writing style and your spider-person/tmnt AU! It’s so fun to read your work and I say it again, I love it! Anyway tho, can I pls request on how the turtles react to our sleepy roommate, actually looking their best. Such as in a nice outfit and they freshened up. Please don’t feel like you have to write this. And you can skip it if you want. But ya, amazing work! ✨✨✨"
A/N: Aw thank you! sorry i've been dead lately, hopefully i'll be able to get to it tho ヽ(✿゚▽゚)ノ
◍ Previous/Mentioned Post◍
◌ (c,c) = chosen color ◌
~xXx~
Michelangelo:
100% whistles when he comes to pick you and April up for a special NYPD ceremony and gets a look at your nightly outfit
It’s not even anything super sexy; a (c,c) long sleeved, v neck jumper with a simple floral design down one of the open pent legs accompanied with a pair of (c,c) block heals and simple but stylish jewelry
The outfit and your styled up looks are just so different from what Mikey is used to seeing you in, which is usually either comfy sweats or casual clothing depending on the location
He lets you know how stunning you look and doesn’t miss the way you shyly try to hide your blush at his compliments, which only spurs him on some more
At one point in the night he makes a slightly flirtatious comment about how he’s not surprised you pulled off such a look, because he thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, and is promptly met with your very flustered response of shoving your matching orange purse in his face (he regrets nothing!)
Donatello:
This poor turt feels his stomach fluttering when lays eyes upon your outfit for the nights celebration
Accentuating your appearance is a soft (c,c) dress with a sewn on silk cape that covers your upper arms, frilly tights cover your legs and adorable (c,c) flats support your feet, and to top it all off is a simple but very cute pastel purple bow clipped neatly to your hair to pull it all together
Donnie nearly chokes up on his words trying to think of the right thing to say, as he’s so used to seeing you wearing anything else but this type of style
Eventually he settles for just offering you his arm to walk with him into the rented convention center the NYPD is hosting in, to which you appreciatingly take
You’re just so pretty and to be frank the purple bow is definitely throwing him off in the best of ways
Of course, Donnie being too smart for his own good, has a sneaking suspicion the accessory was a purposeful choice based on your little smirk and glinting gaze
Raphael:
All the impatience Raphael felt waiting for you and April to finish getting ready dissipates like water in the Sahara when his golden eyes lay witness to your get up
Enveloping you is a beautiful (c,c) asymmetrical cloak sleeved top that cascades diagonally down your form and to match are a pair of equally flowing wide leg trousers and (c,c) coned heels
The accessory picked to match is a very pretty necklace with a glimmering ruby, a detail that does not escape Raphael’s notice
Speaking of notice, it does not escape you the slightly awkward silence you and April are greeted with from the burly ninja
Raph is quick to fix himself when April ask if he’s okay, hoping no one notices the deep blush upon his cheeks, and he jokingly pretends to not recognize you, saying he’s just focused on trying to see where you’re at
You of course roll your eyes at his antics and smack his arm, Raphael chuckling at your slight feistiness he adores, and commits your un-characteristic appearance to the catalog of memories he has of you
Leonardo:
Much like Raphael, Leonardo is left speechless when the balcony window to your and April’s apartment opens to reveal your chosen attire for the NYPD ceremony
A (c,c) suit blazer tops a neatly ironed dress shirt that’s tucked into matching (c,c) slacks held up by a fastened belt and to match are a pair of (c,c) oxfords to offer your feet comfort as well as added fanciness
The blue tie around your collared shirt is what catches Leo’s eyes, a grin spreading across his face as he steps inside and makes a comment about how the outfit suits you
Ignoring his punny compliment you simply say thanks before adding that you just wish you could get the tie to not be crooked and if he would be okay lending a hand
Leonardo has no issue helping especially when it comes to you and as he closes the gap between you to adjust said troublesome tie, it takes all of his willpower to not get completely enraptured by the deepening blush upon your soft cheeks, that of which always seems to make him equally flush
~xXx~
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brigdh · 8 months
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I want to talk about Izzy's rant to Ed in episode 10, the one that brings out the Kraken. I've seen a lot of different descriptions of what is going on in this scene – death threat, homophobic slurs, etc – and I don't think either of those are what's actually what's happening.
Let's look at it closely, line by line, and the way Ed reacts, from the very beginning of the scene.
Ed: Well, feels nice to tidy up a little. Can't believe I was living like this. Can you, Iz? Izzy? Izzy: I'm going to speak plainly. Ed: Wonderful. You know we share our thoughts on this ship.
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Izzy, cont: This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death.
Okay. So there we've got what some have interpreted as a death threat. But does Ed seem threatened? He's startled, certainly, put on his back foot – literally – but he doesn't look afraid or alarmed to me. He draws in a slow breath, assessing the situation, but overall seems more confused than frightened.
In fact he laughs it off with his next line:
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Izzy then escalates the level of aggression in the conversation:
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But Ed, again, looks more confused than anything. Check out that furrowed brow, that head tilt! This is a man going "what is your deal?", not a man thinking "uh-oh, you might kill me!".
Extremely noticeably, even when Izzy storms right up into his face, Ed holds steady. He doesn't run, doesn't lean back, doesn't hunch his shoulders or drop eye contact – there is no vulnerability or defensiveness in Ed's body language at all. Ed is in supreme control of this confrontation – look at the slow way he deigns to turn back to the paper Izzy's holding! As though he's making the point that he chooses when to turn, not Izzy:
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Then we have the "homophobic slur". But watch closely:
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Ed does not react to "namby-pamby", "silk gown", or "pining" at all. He doesn't even blink. He barely seems like he's hearing Izzy. His entire attention is on the picture.
Ed's body language and behavior changes at one word and one word only, and that is "boyfriend". As soon as Izzy says it, Ed's furious:
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(It's even easier to notice when you actually watch the scene instead of using gifs, because Izzy really draws out 'piiiiiiining', putting a lot of time between the first half of the sentence and 'boyfriend'.)
Why is the use of the word 'boyfriend' so important?
Well, what has Ed been doing all episode? He's been crying in a blanket fort and singing sad songs, yes, but he's been keeping a careful level of mystique about why he's doing it. Ed often uses distanced circumlocutions instead of directly acknowledging his emotions, but he's doing it in this episode even more so than usual:
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Here are the lyrics to his song:
(Version one, with Lucius) Hanging on By a thread Hanging on Shouldn't let go If I let go, all will fall Fingers bleeding down to the bone now Can't let go Nothing makes sense Hold on Hold on Hold... on
(Version two, performed for the whole crew) Just let go Make yourself let go Make it go away Away, away today Life's a hard sad death And then you're Deaaad
Notice something? There is no mention of Stede, or love, or break-ups, or abandonments, or relationships in general. All Ed discusses is a vague life-sucks attitude, which could apply to basically anyone under any circumstances. He seems pretty okay with people knowing that Blackbeard is having some sort of weird emotional breakdown as long as he convinces himself that no one knows it's specifically from having his heart broken
This is true of everything Ed says and does for this entire episode. He never once even mentions Stede's name, unless "Farewell, Bonnet's playthings" at the very end counts. The only thing Ed openly admits to feeling bad about is a fictional character who's having a hard time "holding on" (holding on to what? he never says). There are no allusions to heartbreak or romance anywhere in his dialogue.
Now, Ed's not stupid. I'm sure he knows Izzy and Lucius and the rest of the crew can connect the dots and realize that something bad happened with Stede, even if Ed doesn't fill them in on the details. But Ed is also traumatized, and has a whole host of coping mechanisms set up to help him avoiding thinking about things that he doesn't want to think about. If he's not a murderer because "technically the fire killed those guys", then no one knows he's heartbroken because technically he hasn't acknowledged it.
Until Izzy says the word 'boyfriend'. Suddenly the secret is out, and Ed can't handle it. Izzy knows his weakness. That's why this word effects Ed more than anything else Izzy says in the whole scene.
At the end of the confrontation, he hears the crew calling for another song. Look at Ed here. He looks as haunted, as disturbed, in this moment as he does at any point in Izzy's rant.
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This is an important part of the scene, not just a closing note. Because if Izzy (the Caribbean's most emotionally constipated man) can see through him, obviously the whole crew can too.
Obviously Lucius – who advised Ed on his and Stede's relationship, who played along with Ed's 'fictional character' claim, who wrote down Ed's lyrics – can do so most of all.
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There's a direct emotional logic to Ed killing Lucius because he had a fight with Izzy, and it doesn't involve Ed having been threatened or hate crime'd at all. Ed doesn't deal well with his own feelings (from Stede), so he chooses to become Blackbeard/the Kraken and gets rid of all the witnesses who saw otherwise.
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lezbianchae · 8 months
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Sugarcoated.
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Sugar mommy Mina x Fem reader.
Mina loving her sweet girl in every way possible.
Words: 1.4K
Being someone sugar baby was NOT on your bucket list.
You had met Mina through a dating up, you’re in your 3rd year of collage, and had realized that you still haven’t dated anyone, so you took it as an opportunity to try to meet someone. That was until you met Mina. Mina and you would exchange messages back and fourth, for months on end, Mina started falling for you and vice versa.. Mina had claim you as her sugar baby. Mina would offer to pay things like your school tuition, buy you supplies you needed for school, offered you to live in her fancy house, and you took it, who would deny that, while having a gorgeous woman loving you too.
Mina would take you shopping to designer stores, and let you pick out the outfits you’d like until one day, Mina took you to a store that was a bit different then what you’d usually go to.
“Hey Mina? What is this place..?We don’t usually go here..” you said so innocently. Mina held your hand “don’t worry about it baby.. you’ll see once we walk in okay? I just don’t want you to freak out once we walk in, okay?” Mina’s soft spoken tone reassured you. You weren’t worried or anything, but Mina wanting you not to freak out had you very curious for sure.
Mina holding your hand, as she leads you into the store. You’re greeted by some manikins only wearing a limited amount of silk and lace on them. It had now hit you that Mina, brought you in a lingerie shop. Your face started heating up, your cheeks turned red as you look down at the pretty shoes Mina had gotten you recently, as you clenched the older woman’s hand.
“You okay darling~?” She gave you a small smirk after she had noticed your reaction. She cups your cheek.
“M-mhm..M-mina.. what are we here for..?” You questioned. “Oh. I thought it was obvious, I wanted to pick out some pretty lingerie for my baby girl.. I wanna see her in some cute panties.. or maybe even a matching set? Hmm..I’m sure you can help me choose..! right baby?”
You nodded. You were a bit mind bogged, while Mina just giggled. “Good girl.” She out of strand of hair behind your ear as she praised you.
The two of you looking throughout the store Mina showing you different panties and bra’s, selecting you to try on, that was until Mina saw this set that had caught her eye. It was a cute pink velvet set. It had pretty ruffles and lace around the straps along with a little ribbon in the front of the chest, and on the sides of the panties that would give her easy access to you. Without hesitation she has put back everything else she had picked out for you as you watched.
“Here.” Mina said. You grabbed it questionably, getting a good look at it.
“You don’t think this is too gir-“
“You should try it on.” Mina interrupted. You being the obeying girl you are, just agreed. Mina led you to the dresser, as she waited outside.
You tried on the cute underwear, getting a good look in the mirror. You actually really liked it. You were surprised how well you thought you looked. It even came with a pair of cute thigh highs with ribbons on the top of your thighs.
“You okay in there baby?” Mina exclaimed.
“Y-yeah..” you said while still admiring yourself in the mirror.
“Hey, maybe don’t show me okay? I wanna see it when we use it for its purpose.”
“Purpose..?” You thought. All you did was take it off, and put it back on its hanger for and gave it to Mina for its purchase costing around 400$.
The car ride home was quiet. Mina just keep thing about how you’d look in that set. As she was driving with one arm and gripping your thigh with the other, as you two make your way home.
You and Mina had finally reached home, Mina hands you the bag.
“Put it on.”
“Right..now?” You slowly took the bag from her.
“It was an order.”
“Y-yes ma’am..” you walked into the room you and Mina share, as you dressed yourself into the velvet, laced pink lingerie, along with sliding on the thigh highs. Mina walks in behind you, as she closes the door behind her. “C’mon, turn around let’s see it.” So you do. You gave Mina a slow twirl, as her her eye widen. “Oh wow..just look at you. Oh you look so dolled up just for me.” Mina gives you seductive eyes, as she plays with you hair, giving you a peck on the lips. She starts to kiss you and plays with your tongue as she starts to grope your cute butt. You whine in between each kiss. Mina had been craving you and this outfit had really riled her up.
She had broke the kiss. “Get on the bed.” Mina whispered, her words felt like velvet passing through your ear. As you walk behind you sitting down, as Mina pushes you down, caressing the sides of your hips, kissing and kissing and kissing you leaving little bite and lipstick marks around your body, reminding you that you belong to Mina and only Mina. “You look so pretty darling, I really could just eat you up.” Mina undresses herself, takes off her blazer, and her business pants and only unbuttons her top, reveling her black lacy bra and panties. She always has pretty underwear in case she wants to do you. Mina places you on top of her on her lap, as she grips your hip, she starts untying the ribbons on the side of your panties removing them. “Oh my..baby…look at you, already ruining the set mommy bought you with your wetness.” You were dripping for Mina. She kept kissing,licking and biting your tummy. You just stood there and took it, as you whine due to your desperate needs.
“M-Mina.. please start touching me..”
“Hm? What was that, I could have sworn you said Mina, and not mommy.”
You whimpered, tired of the teasing.
“Please touch me mommy..I need you..please.” Mina layed you down now on your back, as she spreads your legs holding your hips down, giving you licks on your warm cunt. You let out a few moans gripping the velvet sheets, arching your back upwards. Mina starts inserting two of her fingers in you, licking the top of your clit.
“Oh baby, you taste so good.. you’re doing such a great job for mommy..what a good girl you are.” She plunges her fingers deeper and rougher. Mina just loves listening to you crying while you’re just begging for a release. “M-mommy.. I’m so close…please..” As Mina plunges her fingers as soon as you’re about to cum, she stops, and takes out her fingers as she leaves you crying and Wimper after the sudden stop. “M-mommy.. why’d you stop..” Mina plants a kiss on your lower abdomen.
“Give me a second baby I have a surprise for you.” As Mina pulls out a box under the bed, your eyes widen as you watch her put on a strap on. It was long, and boy were you worried it wasn’t even going to fit. “Don’t be scared baby.. c’mon turn around.. ass up baby girl.” She flips you over again.. grabbing a pillow and placing it under your tummy, you were a bit smaller compared to Mina, so she gave you a little boost to help her out. “Atta girl, here we go.” Mina slowly slides inside of your wet puffy little cunt.
“M-mommy!” You whimpered out. “Shhh..you can take it, I’ll slow okay?”
The older girl starts to move, as you tightly grip on the bed sheets. “If only I had a real dick, I could breed for hours on end.” Mina whispered in your ear, as you clenched around her. You could already feel yourself so close again from the previous orgasm attempt. “M-mama.. I’m close a-again..” Mina rubs the sides of your hips as you moaned her name over and over. “Is my pretty girl about to cum? Is she about to make a pretty mess on her mommies dick?” You cried you couldn’t take it anymore, you released all your juices while panting, Mina helping you ride out your high. “That’s my girl.” Mina slowly removed herself while your juices drip out of you. You layed flat on the bed for a good 15 seconds. “Y/n..baby..? Let’s get you cleaned up okay..?”
After Mina cleaning you all up, she gets in bed along with you, tucking you both in, kissing your forehead. You snuggled up on her bare breasts.
“I love you y/n I’m so happy you’re mine and mine only.”
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allysunny · 4 months
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Hii, firstly I LOVE ur writing so much, you’re really talented 🌟💘
Congrats on 200 followers, SOOOO DESERVED!!!
I was wondering if you could do 27+r for Bruce 🥰 something like he left to protect her, it hurt him more than anything and he realized that it was mistake and wants her back. Happy ending tho, I’m a sucker for that haha 😄❤️
Thank you in advance, much love! 🫶🏻
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“You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me” + Protecting you x Bale!Bruce
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Words: 15.8k words
Warnings: Angst, infidelity, cheating, lots of angst, pregnancy, break-up, suggestive themes and one (1) very poorly written and short nsfw scene (it's like 5 lines long I think), one (1) death, Bruce Wayne being a mess (relatable), a lot of heartbreak and pining, not proofread. I literally wrote this in a span of like, one week, and it's not proofread, so oh my god I'm so sorry if there's anything wrong with it...
A/N: Oh my god. Hello everyone. Holy fuck. Okay so, I hope you guys are interested to know what the fuck happened here. I don't want to waste any more time (the explanation is quite big), so I'll add it after the fic, in the final Author Note. Small context: I got two requests that were kinda similar, so I decided to mix the two together!
Just a heads up, due to reasons that I'll expand on at the end, I feel like the end drags on a bit. I did not proofread because I was a bit saturated with this piece, and I think that at some point, I actually cried because I was panicking real hard.
Anyway!!! I love Bruce!!!! I hope you guys enjoy this <3
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Bruce knew you were the one after you'd first spilled coffee all over his suit.
You just looked so worried, your pretty eyes wide with fear as you tried to think of what to say to this stranger you'd just bumped into – or so he thought. You, in fact, knew exactly what you wanted to say to him.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, asshole!" you'd exclaimed, looking at what remained of your iced coffee. "This thing was almost 10 dollars, what am I supposed to do now?"
Bruce eyed you up and down, honestly surprised you had the guts to raise your voice at him. Didn't you know who he was? Did you simply not care?
Either way, he was enthralled.
"Hey!" you waved your arms in front of him, trying to get his attention. "Look at me!"
"May I be so bold to point out you spilled your coffee onto me?" Bruce asked with a small scoff. "If anything, you are the one supposed to do something about it."
"This wouldn't have happened if you watched where you were going." You were very pretty, Bruce noted. Your eyes seemed to sparkle, and your arms were crossed over your chest, making his eyes dart towards it.
"And what am I supposed to do?" He replied.
"I don't know! Give me my money back or something, that coffee is super expensive! It's my special celebration cup!"
""Your money back?"
"Yeah! You're dressed up all nice, I bet that suit costs more than my rent."
"Oh, really?" Bruce was amused one. You were feisty, clearly. "And what makes you think that?"
"No one walks around Gotham dressed like that, unless they're rich, powerful, law agents, or I don't know, Bruce Fucking Wayne."
"Bruce Wayne? Does he dress like this?"
You scoffed, shaking your head and gesticulating a lot with your arms.
"Probably! I mean, it's not like anyone has ever seen the guy, but let's be honest, he probably dresses in expensive as fuck silk, or like, placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies or something."
You only seemed to get better by the second.
Bruce placed a hand on his chin, truly intrigued by your line of thinking.
"Placenta that's fed to and then shat by babies?" He had to admit, this was pretty amusing. Did you have any sort of filter? If so, he never wished that you turned it off.
"Maybe – I don't know – It's Bruce Wayne, so who actually does know? Maybe he's running a society of baby-shitting placenta. It's Gotham. One day we have masked vigilantes jumping off roofs, and the other, bomb threats. Regular Tuesdays for us Gothamites. But the real question here is," you jabbed an accusatory finger into his chest. "What are you going to do to repay me my very well-earned 10$ worth of iced coffee?"
Bruce was just about to reply, when a very familiar voice spoke up behind him.
"Ah, Mr. Wayne!" Lucius's Fox deep timbre was unmistakable, and Bruce turned around to offer him a polite smile. "I'm happy to run into you, there's a few things – " He took one good look at his boss's shirt and grimaced. "Hell, Mr. Wayne, how'd that happen?"
The younger man turned around to glance at you. Poor, poor you, with eyes even wider, and a matching mouth. You blinked several times, looking from his shirt to his face, and from his face to his shirt.
"Oh, that's right. I almost forgot to introduce myself," he put a hand forward, offering you what you thought was the most dazzling smile ever. Geez, women must basically throw their panties at him.
"Bruce Wayne. Baby-shitting-placenta cult leader."
You blinked a few more times, wishing the earth swallowed you whole. You'd literally never done anything wrong in your life. Sure, you talked trash about Suzy Carpenter's sweater in 8th grade, but it was warranted – it did look like vomit – and you had stolen a yogurt from a coworker once, but surely that did not warrant running into Bruce Fucking Wayne of all people, spilling coffee all over his clothes, and accuse him of eating placenta. Maybe Suzy still held a grudge.
"Mr. Fox, how about I stop by your office later today? I'm quite busy this morning. Have something to do."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne. I'll be patiently waiting." Lucius gave him and you an acknowledging nod, before walking away.
You were still staring at Bruce, completely at a loss for words. What were you supposed to say? Was there anything at all you could say?
"I – Mr. Wayne, I – Well, I'm – I," you stuttered and stuttered, and Bruce could only chuckle, before shaking his head. He looked to his left and took a few steps, opening a door before him.
"After you."
Confusion took over your expressions. What was he up to? Where was he going?
"I promise not to kidnap you into a placenta cult," he chuckled, nodding towards the door. You looked at the name written in green letters on the glass. "Coffee House". "I believe I have a cup of coffee to make up for?"
He offered you a very subtle version of that dazzling smile of his, and you couldn't help but return in kind.
"I'm not going to apologize or kiss your ass or anything," you told him.
"That's fine," Bruce shrugged, "I didn't want you to."
You pondered your options.
You didn't know this man. But someone had called him Mr. Wayne, and now that you take a good look at him, he does look like the face gossip magazines and tabloids love to splatter on the cover. And he really did not look like he meant any harm.
And you really wanted a cup of coffee. "Alright, Mr. Placenta Cult Leader."
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It did not take long for Bruce to fall in love with you, with your kindness, with your looks, with your beautiful personality. You always maintained that feisty attitude of yours, refusing to treat him or anyone in his world differently simply because you were now a part of it.
And Bruce loved it.
Loved how you couldn't care less what other socialite families thought of you, eating chocolate covered fruit after chocolate covered fruit at fundraisers, loved the way you latched onto him and "claimed" your property so to say whenever other women approached him and tried their luck (not that it would've worked, this man was whipped for you), telling other, more arrogant seniors off whenever they made judgements on yours, or Gotham forbid, Bruce.
But above all, he loved you,
And he made sure to show you just how much whenever possible. He wasn't the best with words, never had been, so he tried to show his devotions through actions. Breakfasts in bed, gentle caresses while you cuddled together on the couch, copies of your favourite books, soft kisses pressed against the hollow of your throat while he brought you to a climax with his fingers. Bruce would never stop showing you his love, for as long as he lived.
Alfred was very fond of you too.
The two of you had gotten along very well immediately after your first meeting, with Alfred telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from Bruce's childhood. You laughed and replied in kind, and the two of you sort of teamed up to make his life a living hell (in the best way possible), teasing him to no end and cursing him with the worst jokes known to mankind.
Alfred too could see you were the one for his boss.
Saw it in the way Bruce looked at you, like everyone else in the world was gone and the only thing that mattered was the shine in your eyes. Saw it in the way he bent over to whisper sweet nothings into your ear that made you giggle out loud, just the way he saw Thomas Wayne do with his wife.
Saw it in the way Bruce paced holes into his study, pondering on what ring to get you. He bothered him to exhaustion that day, wondering about the colours you'd prefer, what size and shaped rock to get you, how, when, and where to propose.
"It has to be perfect, Alfred," he muttered, shaking his head and sighing incessantly. "I can't just pick any ring. It has to be meaningful. Her birthstone? No. No, absolutely not, that's lame. It's lame – it's dated. She wouldn't like it. Maybe she doesn't even like her birthstone. A diamond. A diamond! No. Out of the question. What if she doesn't like diamonds?"
"If I may give you a piece of advice, sir?" Alfred asked. However entertaining it was to see the mighty Bruce Wayne freak out over an engagement ring, this man was still his boy, and he couldn't bear to see him distressed. "If I recall, it was in your mother's will that her ring was to be stored and kept locked away in the possibility of her passing. I believe it is stored away in her old jewel box, as she was never buried with it. She wanted you to have it."
Bruce's eyes softened, as they often did at the mention of his parents.
"My mother's ring?" he asked to which Alfred nodded dutifully.
"It has been in your family for more than 6 generations now. Your mother wanted you to have it."
Some mixed feeling akin to grief and love passed through his eyes, and Bruce found himself staring at the floor. His mother's ring. A family heirloom, passed on from generation to generation. And now it was his. And would become yours. A million thoughts could've crossed through his mind. "Should I give something this important to her?" or "Is she the right person for this ring?" or maybe even "This is far too important. I need to think twice before making this decision".
But surprisingly, the only thought that came to him was "There is no one out there more deserving of this ring than her".
It was endearing, really, and Alfred Pennyworth was more than happy to see the boy he'd watched grow and loved as his own become his own man, and finally find the love he so much deserved.
When you got home on a warm May night and showed off your ring to him, smiling from ear to ear, eyes red and makeup slightly smudged from the tears you'd no doubt shed, he hugged you tightly and wished you all the best. He was sure the late Mr. and Mrs. Wayne would've loved you, and his eyes teared up at the thought.
Bruce caught sight of this and made his way towards the older man, worried that something might be wrong, the answer almost made him cry as well.
"It seemed like only yesterday I was patching your arm up after a rough fall, Master Wayne. And here you are today, carrying the legacy of your family, a man of your own, about to embark on this beautiful journey that's marriage. I am so very proud of the man you have become, and I'm sure your parents would too."
The two of them hugged warmly. Alfred was the only person besides you who got to see the more vulnerable side of Bruce – well, rather, you were the other person beside him. Having grown up with only his butler, Bruce saw him as a father figure. Sure, he'd never be able to replace his actual dad, but Bruce looked up and admired Alfred very much, considering him part of the family. No one seemed to care about him as much, and he was forever grateful.
That very night, you three toasted with champagne, sharing stories and anecdotes from Bruce's childhood, your relationship, and making plans for the future. And after Alfred had long retired for the night, Bruce took you in his arms, carried you off to his bedroom and made sure to remind you over and over again just how much he loved you.
After the engagement, Bruce told you about his double identity as Batman. You'd never suspected it – you were both responsible adults, each had your own job and errands to run. Not to mention that Bruce was the CEO of a whole company. To you, it was normal if he had to cancel one or two dates, or if you went a few days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, and sometimes it made your heart ache, but you were a busy woman yourself, and always found yourself surrounded by things to do; hobbies, errands, work – you always had a lot going on, so Bruce's absence felt normal.
He was afraid you'd leave him, but in true you fashion, it just made you even more in love. The man you adored more than anything and wanted to spend the rest of your life with was the one keeping Gotham safe at night. You begged him there and then to show you all his cool gadgets, teach you how everything worked, and your mouth watered at the possibility of having sex in what you called "the Batcar".
"Batcar?" Bruce asked, cringing.
"No – that sounds terrible. Hmmm... Batengine?"
"It's called the Tumbler, and that's all. No Bat prefixes."
"No – no, it doesn't work like that. It needs a name. Oh. OH – Oh, holy fuck. Okay, get ready for this." You placed your hands in front of you, smiling. "You ready?"
"Just get on with it."
"I was just making sure you were ready. Okay listen. The Batmobile."
Bruce looked at you.
You looked at him.
Bruce looked at you.
You looked at him.
Bruce looked at you.
And then he made your wish come true, carrying you off towards the Batmobile.
Later, when you were curled up in his arms, you grinned, placing a cheeky kiss on his jaw.
"You're wearing the suit next time.”
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Your engagement was happily lived.
You and Bruce tried to keep it a secret for as long as you could, wanting to enjoy some time together away from the prying eyes of Gotham, but as soon as one photographer caught you taking a spoon to your lips, and the beautiful diamond ring caught in the light, it was over.
“So much for privacy,” you muttered, collapsing on your couch, gripping the latest gossip magazine. The words “WAYNE HEIR TO FINALLY SETTLE! Billionaire playboy finally tamed!?” were plastered on the cover, as well as a big picture of you hiding your face with your left hand as Bruce brought you close to him. “I wonder if they’ll ever leave us alone.”
“Probably not. You’ll get used to it; it comes with the name.” Bruce kissed the top of your head, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled and sat up straight, taking a sip from it and humming in delight.
“This is real good. Did Alfred make it?”
“Why is it so hard to believe that I would make a good cup of coffee?” Your fiancé asked, sitting beside you. One hand snaked around your waist and brought you closer, and the other softly flicked your nose.
“You burned the coffee beans last time you tried. I don’t even know how that’s possible, Bruce,” you sighed.
“I did my best.” Was his response.
“Maybe stick to being Bruce Wayne by day, and Batman by night. I love a good alliteration, but you were not meant to be a barista.”
Bruce chuckled and kissed you, tasting the sweet coffee off your lips. He hummed, gazing at you through his dark lashes.
“You’re right, this is good. Most likely wasn’t made by me.”
“It definitely wasn’t made by you.”
“You are such a hater,” Bruce sighed, playfully kissing your nose. “I’m never making you any more coffee from now on.”
Your eyes lit up and you smiled at him jokingly.
“Is that a promise?”
Bruce just shook his head and bent down to kiss you. You smiled against his lips, and he took the opportunity to give your waist a good squeeze, causing you to flinch.
“Stop that! I’m going to spill this all over the couch!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time – I recall someone spilling coffee all over me and somehow making it my fault,” Bruce joked, raising a quizzical brow. You smiled fondly at the memory. It was your favourite story to tell.
“You weren’t watching your step. It wasn’t my fault.”
“You bumped into me.”
“No, you bumped into me because you weren’t paying attention. And then you made me spill your coffee all over you.” You smiled and kissed him again. When you pulled away, you felt him chase after you, capturing your lips with his own once again.
Brushing his lips against yours, he murmured, “And I’m glad I did. I got to meet the love of my life that way.”
“You’re so corny, Bruce Wayne. I wonder what the public would think of you if they saw you like this.”
“I don’t care what the public thinks of me as long as you’re by my side.”
You smiled, and so did he. Truer words had never been spoken.
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Now that you knew he was Batman, you worried more often.
What before was considered simply a “busy night for Mr. CEO” was now “night out in Gotham, fighting criminals and possibly getting injured”. You found yourself pacing circles around your bedroom, biting on your nails, and hoping that Bruce would come home soon.
You’d asked Alfred for some tips – how could he appear so relaxed knowing that the boy he treated as his own son was out there, doing what he did? Knowing that he put himself in the face of danger so often and sometimes with no regard for his own life?
“It’s hard, Miss,” he told you over a warm cup of tea. “But in the end, Master Wayne knows what he is doing. And now he has one more reason to get back home safely. Everything will be alright.”
And thankfully, he usually did.
You two had a sort of unspoken deal.
Bruce would always wake you up whenever he returned, even if just to let you know he was safe and home. Sometimes, you’d wake up, insisting on checking him for bruises and marks, and even going as far as patching them up.
“The kitchen has better lighting, c’mon,” you mumbled, voice still coated in exhaustion. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, yawning as you made your way towards the kitchen to deal with his bruises. It was routine, at this point. Bruce sat down, you opened your first-aid kit, you two had a snack and went back to bed. It was domestic, in a way. Not really something a regular couple would do, but you and Bruce had never really been regular.
“You’re lucky that one isn’t big,” you said, pointing towards the purple bruise forming on top of his right pectoral. You’d seen worse – sometimes he came home with bullet wounds, or deep gashes on his skin. Not that this was any more reassuring, but you were just glad that compared to other nights, he didn’t seem to be suffering too much. “It should heal in a few days, as long as you keep applying the cream.”
“What would I do without you?” he asked, with a soft smile. This is how you knew Bruce had truly returned home. Some nights he’d be far too tired to speak, choosing to kiss you and softly touch you to remind you of his love. Others, he would lock himself up in the Batcave, somehow convinced he wasn’t worthy of you. Of course you offered to talk to him, to help carry his burdens, but he never wanted to drag you into that side of his life, so most of the time, he would keep to himself.
Right now, though, he seemed to be doing fine. He told you patrol was rather easy, there were no major criminals out, and that nothing was wrong. His smiles and chuckles meant that Bruce, your Bruce was back.
“I don’t know,” you said, moving to open the fridge. As soon as you did, you turned away from it and gagged. “Shit – that’s disgusting,” you said, closing the door and shaking your head.
“What?” Bruce turned to you. “Is there something wrong?”
“I think there must be something rotten in here, it smells foul. Fuck, it smells so disgusting, I think I’m going to vomit,” you mumbled, moving away from the fridge as quickly as you could. Bruce got up right after and carefully opened the door. Nothing. Nothing seemed to smell rotten – nor it would make any sense if it did. Alfred was always on top of groceries, and never in his life he recalled a moment where something was rotten or went to waste.
“Are you sure?” he asked, turning to you. “I can’t smell anything bad.” Searching through the items, he opened and closed lids, smelling whatever was inside. Everything seemed to be intact.
“Are you serious? It smells disgusting – close that door!”
“Honey, I can’t find anything in here that smells bad. Maybe you’re just sensitive or something.” Bruce closed the door and walked towards you, wrapping you around his arms. “We should go to sleep. It’s late.”
You nodded into his chest and allowed him to carry you back to bed.
As you drifted off to sleep, you thought of how nice it would be if every single day was like this – patrol-wise. Bruce would come home with barely any scratches, you’d take care of him in about 10 minutes, and before you knew it, you’d be back in bed, hugging him tightly against you.
Unfortunately, the future held other plans.
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“Well, well, well. If it isn’t The Dark Knight himself,” a very familiar voice said.
Bruce turned around and faced the familiar mask of the Scarecrow, the man he knew to be Dr. Jonathan Crane. And he seemed to be in top shape – last time he’d seen the bastard, he was mumbling incoherently and out of his mind. How he’d gotten himself out of Arkham, Bruce had no idea, but he was sure to send him back there in no time.
“Crane.” Bruce said, ready to fight at any time. He knew Crane used a special toxin to induce fear in his enemies, and although he was immune to it, he had no idea what other people he’d convinced to do his dirty work. Had no idea if he should suspect any surprise attacks and did not want to take chances.
“You know, it’s funny that I find you here, especially after all the… studying I was doing just last night.” Crane paced around the alley, trying to get Bruce’s – the Batman’s – attention. “I was thinking, what is the big bad bat afraid of?” Placing a hand on his chin, he pretended to be deep in thought.
“Cut the crap Crane,” Bruce all but spat, “What do you want?”
Crane – the Scarecrow – however, did not seem in the mood to stop.
“At first, I couldn’t quite get it. After all, you’re just a man,” Crane put extra emphasis on his words. Bruce saw right through him. He wasn’t the first one who tried to make him feel helpless. “But then, it hit me.”
The Scarecrow kept walking around, weaving a narrative to get into Bruce’s head. The latter one stood his ground. He had half a mind to slam Crane against the nearest wall and just hand him over to the authorities, who’d already been called and were on their way, but part of him wanted to hear whatever the maniac had to say.
He shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, but something inside him stirred. Crane looked carefree, relaxed. What had he done?
“Tell me, Bruce,” he said the name with a twisted kind of glee, something that made Bruce’s stomach drop unpleasantly. “Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?”
What?
How did he know about him?
Most importantly, how did he know about you? Had he investigated you? Put the pieces together? Had Bruce accidentally left any sort of clue that led him to make the connection?
“Ah – right,” Crane said, removing his mask and offering Bruce a sadistic smile, “You thought no one would figure out your little secret, would you, Batman? How unfortunate.”
In about a second, Bruce was close to Crane, gripping him by the collar of his shirt.
“What have you done to her!?” He snapped, anger clouding his judgement.
“Ah, ah, ah! Now, don’t be crass, Bruce, we’re both respected men and can do this the hard way or the easy way. And I would hate for someone to find out your little secret. Wouldn’t you agree?” The man smiled mockingly, making Bruce’s blood boil.
“Who knows!? Who have you told?” he roared. All judgement and common sense had jumped off the window. Bruce remembered his training; remembered how he was told to keep his emotions at bay. Use his head, not his heart.
“This is where things get complicated now, Batman.” Crane spoke calmly. “I’m the only one who’s aware of your little secret.” Bruce almost sighed in relief. “But that can easily change. Help me get what I want, and I won’t tell a soul. Do anything to stop me, and I’ll let the whole world know who’s hiding under the mask. And believe me – every Arkham inmate would like to know.”
Bruce lowered the Scarecrow onto the ground, breathing heavily. Jonathan Crane knew his identity, knew who he was, where he lived, knew who his wife was. If he didn’t play this correctly, you’d be in great danger.
Reaching towards his pocket, Crane pulled out a small phone.
“In here, I have all the information about you, and the Missus. If you cross me, call for backup, or do anything that would sabotage my plan, I’m sending this file to every phone in Arkham City.”
Bruce weighed his options. He had to be careful. Get the phone out of Crane’s hands, lock him up –
A loud gunshot could be heard through the alley, and the man with the mask in his hand fell on the ground. It took a while for Bruce to understand what was going on, but Jim Gordon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“I didn’t say you could shoot –“
“Sargeant, we’ve been after Crane for months now, I wasn’t going to let him go this easily!” A younger man in a GCPD office called out, moving towards Bruce and the now dead body lying on the floor.
Jonathan Crane was dead. The Scarecrow was dead. The only person who knew his secret was now dead. Instinctively, he bent down to pry the phone from the dead man’s hands. With a few clicks, he realised he wasn’t bluffing. A message with a large file entitled THE BAT was ready to be sent at any time. Bruce deleted the thing and destroyed the phone with his bare hands.
That had been close.
Too close.
The GCPD had killed Crane, and while normally Bruce would be against the killing policy, part of him kept thanking whatever inexperienced officer had decided to shoot him.
That was too close.
Crane had said no one else knew of his identity. What if he was bluffing? What if the phone was just a means to threaten him, meanwhile, everyone back in Arkham already knew?
“You okay?” Bruce turned to look at Jim Gordon’s worried expression. “It’s not often we see the Batman worried.”
“He knew who I am.”
Gordon took a step back – quite literally – eyes wide as he put his hands on his hips.
“Did he now?”
“He was going to tell everyone in Arkham City should I not help him along with his plan.”
Both men remained silent, staring at each other, before Gordon turned to look at his officers.
“I know you stick to your no-killing policy, but maybe this one was for the – “
The Batman was gone.
“ – Best.”
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He’d spent the night at the cave, terrified to return to you.
What was he going to do?
Jonathan Crane had found out about him, so who’s to say someone else wouldn’t? Sure, the average criminal could not simply put together that he was Bruce Wayne, but there were always going to be people like Crane, who held big grudges and had a very high intellect.
It was simply a matter of time before someone else found out about you.
And Bruce couldn’t have that.
He ran Crane’s words over and over again in his head.
Does it worry you when you leave your poor little wife all alone in your Manor? Knowing that anyone could get to her, knowing that she’s defenceless without you to protect her?
He was right. While he was out at night, protecting the city, you were at home, with no one to protect you. He couldn’t bring you along – that was out of the question. And he couldn’t confine you to some secluded area. He knew you’d get upset that he was treating you like a baby, assuring him you could take care of yourself just fine.
You couldn’t.
Bruce had to protect you. He had to keep you safe, out of harm’s and criminal’s ways. Tonight, it was Crane, merely threatening to tell everyone about you. Tomorrow, it could be someone doing good on their promise.
He tried hard to think of what to do.
And the only idea that seemed like it could work, made his heart ache immensely.
He loved you. He loved you more than what he could possibly say. It tore him apart to be away from you, it broke him to simply think of hurting you.
And yet, it would keep you safe.
Bruce loved you.
So, so much.
He loved you so very much, that he was willing to do whatever he had to keep you safe from harm.
It would break his heart, yes. And yours too, surely. But after tonight, he couldn’t risk it. He would go the lengths of the earth to keep you safe and sound. He made his way towards the Manor and thought over his plan.
There was no way you’d believe him if he ever told you he did not love you. No, that wouldn’t work. You knew him far too well to know when he was lying.
He couldn’t say he was trying to protect you either. One thing he loved the most about you, was your stubbornness. If he told you all he was trying to do was keep you safe, you’d laugh in his face and promise you some measly criminals did not phase you. It warmed his heart, in a way, to know you’d stick with him through thick and thin, but it also made him worry.
What could he possibly do to keep you away from him?
And that’s when it hit him.
You had to see it.
It wasn’t an ideal solution – hell, he didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to even think about it. But if it would keep you safe? Bruce was willing to give it a try.
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You’d gotten home earlier from work. Bruce knew this. You were supposed to get home around 6 and a half on Tuesdays, but it was currently 6 and you were already hanging your coat by the door.
“Good afternoon, Miss.” Alfred said with a polite nod, hurrying to your side. “You’re home earlier than expected.” A lie. Bruce had spoken to your coworkers earlier, and they’d told him you’d be off work sooner than expected. Alfred was in on the whole plan as well. It didn’t please him one bit, but he knew once Bruce got an idea, he would go through it until the very end.
“I told you to stop with the ‘Miss’, Alfred, my name is fine. It’s been fine for four years, and I’m sure it’ll be fine for the rest of our lives.” You smiled at him. You’d been trying to get Alfred to use your name for all the years you’d been dating Bruce, but to no avail.
“I’m sorry Miss,” he replied. “Old habits die hard. And please, allow me. It’s part of my job.”
“You’re family, Alfred. What would it take for you to call me by my name?”
“A handsome raise by Master Wayne.”
“I’ll see that he takes care of it right away.”
Alfred smiled as you turned to make your way towards the bedroom, and when you were no longer facing him, your expression turned to one of sadness. Was this really what it had come to? Was he about to go on with this?
He didn’t want to, but there was no way he was going against his boss’s rules.
Alfred sighed sadly, before following you.
“I’m afraid Master Wayne is busy.”
“Oh,” you hummed, “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him to return.” You continued walking.
“No, Miss – he’s in his office. He’s told me not to disturb him, nor let anyone do it, since he’s working on some very important projects for Wayne Enterprises.”
Weird. Bruce never shut you out, even when he was busy. Sure, he might have things to do, but he would always keep his door open should you want to talk to him, or just kiss him.
“Well, that’s fine, I’ll just say hello to him and go take a shower.” You offered Alfred a smile and turned to instead walk towards Bruce’s office. “Did he tell you what work? He never mentioned anything about a project. Is it new?��
“I’m not sure Miss.” Alfred said, his heart beating slightly faster now that you approached the office’s door. He knew exactly what to expect once you opened the door, but it didn’t really make it easier. “He told me he was going to be busy all afternoon, told me not to go in, and closed the door.”
“Weird. Are you sure he’s alright?”
“I suppose so, Miss.”
You furrowed a brow. Odd. And it’s not like he told you anything at all – letting you know he’d be busy or working up until late.
“That’s alright, Alfred. I’ll go check up on him. He must be really tired,” You said, and approached the door. And now, you were even more confused than ever. Weird sounds were coming from inside the office. You could make out two voices – Bruce’s, of course (you’d know his voice from a mile away), and a female one.
What in the world could Bruce be possibly doing behind locked doors with a woman?
You stilled, straining your ears to better make out the noises coming from inside. And you flushed deep red once the realisation hit you. Grunting, groaning, moaning.
No.
It couldn’t be, now, could it? There was no way.
You turned around to face Alfred, whose face seemed to go white as a sheet of paper.
“Y-You said he locked himself inside and sent you away?” You asked.
“Yes, Miss.”
“O-Okay.” You mumbled, facing the door.
The voices got louder. The female voice got higher and shriller, and tears clouded your vision. You mustered up all the courage you could find in yourself, and burst the door open, gasping loudly at the scene before you.
A naked woman was lying on top of your fiancé’s desk, cheeks flushed and hands desperately clawing at his back – Bruce’s back. He was on top of her, hand hidden in the crook of her neck as he groaned, rutting faster against her.
You stilled in your place, completely paralyzed. There were no possible words to describe what you were feeling now. Anger? Heartbreak? Sadness?
The woman let out a loud moan and wrapped her legs tighter around him.
“You like that?” Bruce grunted, lifting his head to look at the woman, who replied with another broken moan and a tug of his hair.
“Bruce?” you said, heart breaking in a million pieces.
He looked up. Really looked up, staring into your eyes. Inside him, something broke as well. He was doing this for your own good. For your safety. He had to keep you away, had to give you the life he knew you couldn’t have as his wife. It was too dangerous.
“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly getting away from the woman on the desk. He stared at you, dumbfounded, scrambling around to quickly get his clothes.
“Hey – hey – what are you doing?” The woman asked, looking at him, before turning to you and her eyes widened. “Oh!”
You scoffed, looking in between the two, and stormed away, tears running down your cheeks.
“Honey!” Bruce called. He quickly managed to put on a pair of pants, and ran after you, heart pounding in his chest. You were mad. This was really happening. He was going to forever ruin the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, and all because of the Batman. He’d betrayed you and broken your heart.
But it was for your own good.
“I can’t believe this,” you said through gritted teeth, walking towards your bedroom and slamming the door shut behind you. Bruce was able to catch it right before it shut closed, and the expression in your face was sure to haunt him forever. Your lovely eyes, usually bright and lively, were dull and red. Your tear-streaked face was something Bruce had never wanted to see in his life – at least not when it pertained to something bad.
“Honey, please, it’s not what it looks like.” He pleaded, walking towards you.
You were quick to move aside.
“Don’t give me that not what it looks like bullshit! I saw you Bruce – God damn it, I saw you with another woman.” You said, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably. “How could you!?”
“Look, darling, if you could just let me explain –“
“Oh! Explain!” You hurried inside the closet, fetching one of your travel suitcases. There was no way you were staying inside this house – his house – any longer. You needed to get out. Needed fresh air, needed to get away from him. “What is there to explain? How you were balls deep inside some woman you’ve found somewhere? Oh, really nice, Bruce, lovely explanation!”
“You have to understand –“ Bruce explained, in between shallow breaths. “You weren’t supposed to find out, you were supposed to be at work.”
“Ah, yes. Of course I wasn’t supposed to find out.” You scoffed and busied yourself with throwing clothes inside your suitcase. “That much I know.”
“I’m sorry – “
“I’m sure you are.”
“I didn’t want it to come to this!” Bruce snapped, and you finally turned to him.
“Come to this?” Your voice was low, frail, frightened. Fuck. What was he doing? What was Bruce doing? Was this worth ruining your relationship over? Yes. Yes – of course it did. If it meant you’d be safe. Everything was worth it if you were safe.
You’d have your heart broken, yes. But in a few months, maybe years, you’d find someone else. A nice, normal man, with no secret identities and no secret life. You’d find a nice man and settle down. He would give you all his time, worship you like you deserved to be worshipped. Would take care of you and love you, and never put you in danger.
And you’d be happy. You’d be so happy; you’d have long forgotten about the asshole Bruce Wayne, who’d cheated on you and broke your heart.
“Yes, come to this.” He repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out. I was supposed to have ended this long ago, and yet I let go for far too long.” Bruce tried to force some venom, some harshness into his words. He wasn’t used to talking like this to you, nor did he want to – but he had to try.
“What do you mean?” The clothes in your hands were long forgotten, and you just stared at him, like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I just – look, I hate to do this right now, and in these circumstances, but…”
“But?”
“We can’t be together anymore.”
Your eyes widened. What?
“I can’t keep lying to you. I don’t love you anymore.”
These words hit you like a truck.
Didn’t love you anymore?
“What?”
“That’s right.” Bruce sighed, trying to keep his composure. “This relationship is a mistake. You’re holding me back, and I just don’t love you anymore.” His voice was devoid of any emotion, while inside, he could feel everything slipping out of control. He loved you. How could he say such things? How were such words leaving his mouth?
“You – you don’t love me anymore?” You asked, eyes tearing up once more. Your breaths were coming in shallow; you couldn’t breathe, nor believe the stuff you were hearing.
“I don’t. I’ve been miserable – miserable – in this relationship,” He said your name, running a finger through his already unkempt hair. “I can’t keep pretending to be someone I’m not. Propose, settle down, get married – I can’t do it. I don’t see a future with you anymore. Please, you can’t tell me you haven’t felt the same!”
“No! I can’t!” You didn’t sound like yourself. You sounded sad, broken, out of breath, completely terrified. You thought your life with Bruce was going very well. You loved him, and he loved you. Yeah, okay, maybe he had some more work to take care of as of late, but that didn’t warrant a breakup. Did it? “We – we’ve been so happy, Bruce!”
“Fuck – I don’t love you anymore! This, this – this relationship is killing me here! I can’t keep on doing this, can’t wake up and pretend to be your Brucie, or a family man, or God forbid, someday your husband!” Bruce was fighting hard to keep his emotions away from this. Instead, he channelled all that energy into pretending to be angry with you. He put all the anger he felt towards the outside world and every criminal in Gotham, into this fake argument.
And by the look of your face, he was doing a good job.
“How… How long have you been doing this?” You whispered. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer. Weren’t sure if you wanted to know how long your husband had been betraying you, sleeping with some other woman. Or women. It made you nauseous just to think of that.
“I…”
“Just tell me, Bruce!”
Bruce sighed, looking away.
“Three months.”
A choked sob was ripped from your throat, and you grabbed the nearest thing – a shoebox – raising it above your head. There were a million thoughts racing through your head, a million emotions plaguing your mind. But before you could throw the damned box at his head, you ran into the nearest bathroom, puking your guts out.
The whole situation made you nauseous alright.
As soon as you’d puked whatever you had to, you got up, washing your mouth and your teeth. Then, you turned to Bruce. He was standing in the middle of your bedroom, looking at you with a mixture of sorrow, disgust, and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
You couldn’t stare at him any longer.
“I’d appreciate it if you left the Manor until the end of the day,” he said, looking at the ground. “I would like the master bedroom to be clean of your things.”
How could he speak like this? How could he say all of this after everything you two shared? Every word, every kiss, every touch? Had it not meant anything to him? Clearly not, by the way he was behaving.
You wiped your tears (unsuccessfully, since they just kept on rolling down your cheeks), and walked towards your closet, proceeding to stuff your clothes inside the suitcase. Just as you were about to shut your first suitcase, Bruce interrupted you.
“I’ll have someone else take to you the rest of your things. Just take that right now.”
You stood up, turning to him. First, he cheated on you, then he admitted to not loving you, then he broke up with you, and now he was kicking you out at full force.
You sneered.
“Where the hell am I supposed to stay, then? I live here.”
“Lived. Not live. You don’t live here anymore. Just get a hotel room somewhere, I’ll pay for it. But you have to go.”
“Why? So you can go back to fucking your new girlfriend?”
“Precisely.” The bite in his words shocked you.
There were no words. No words beside three little things you’d never thought you’d utter at the man standing before you.
“I hate you. I hate you, Bruce Wayne.” You said, tears cascading down your cheeks and marring your so lovely face. “Everyone warned me about you, but I didn’t listen. I was too in love with you to care about what anyone said.”
Bruce still refused to meet your gaze. He was sure that if he did, he’d break down too. And he was close, too close to let all of this go to waste.
“Should’ve listened to them.” You whispered.
And walked out, suitcase in hand.
“Alfred, make sure you take her – “
“I’ll see to it myself, thanks. I don’t need your help.”
With these words, you were out the door, and out of Bruce’s life.
As soon as you were no longer in vision, Bruce broke down.
He sat on his bed, hiding his face in his hands. You were truly gone. Forever. He’d done what he had to, and now you were gone. It was for the best, yeah, but that’s not to say it didn’t hurt.
Alfred quietly walked into the room. The sight of his boss leaning forward, looking absolutely miserable was a low blow. Finally, he’d found a source of happiness, of peace, of solace. Finally, he’d get to see his boy grow up, start his own family.
But all of that was over now.
He wouldn’t be there to walk you down the aisle and congratulate Bruce on his wedding day. He wouldn’t be there to see him drop to his knees when he found out you were carrying his child. He wouldn’t get to teach Bruce all the little hacks he learned from caring for him as a baby, wouldn’t get to tell your child the charming love story his parents had.
Master Wayne was miserable before you.
He was sure he’d get worse now.
“Master Wayne, I’ve sent Miss Roberts on her way.” He said quietly, standing on the doorway.
“Did you pay her?”
“Yes.”
“Enough?”
“She won’t tell a soul.”
The two men remained in silent for a while. Alfred did not know what to say. He understood where Bruce was coming from. He’d tried to talk some sense into his young master’s head, but to no avail – Bruce was going through with this madness and that was it. He’d tried telling him it wouldn’t matter; you loved him and would remain by his side forever, but he wouldn’t hear it.
In his head, this was the only solution.
“She’s going to be fine,” Bruce mumbled, dropping his hands, and looking at the ground.
“You’ve broken her heart, sir.” Alfred replied.
“She’ll be fine, Alfred,” Bruce retorted harshly. “She’ll go on with her life, forget about me, and she will be safe and that’s why we’re doing this – so she’s safe!”
The older man closed his mouth. There was nothing else he could do or say. It was done, and there was no turning back.
“Will you be fine, Master Wayne?” he asked at last.
Bruce did not answer right away. He shook his head, and Alfred swore he could make out the shape of his shoulders shaking ever so slightly – was he crying?
After a few moments, Bruce finally managed to calm himself. He took a deep breath, quickly wiped away any tears that might’ve escaped, and nodded, still avoiding his butler’s gaze.
“I will be. All that matters is that she’s safe. I’ll learn to be fine.”
“Is there anything you wish, sir?”
“No, you’re dismissed.”
And so, Alfred walked away, leaving Bruce to think the last few minutes over.
He’d lost you, sure.
But he would keep an eye on you from afar. Protect you from a distance. Make sure you were doing alright and that no harm had come to you. He’d be a silent protector.
And although he was hurting, he would bottle up his emotions.
Nothing else mattered, as long as you were safe.
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But keeping tabs on you had proved to be quite harder than what Bruce expected.
You’d gone completely off the map, off-grid. You’d forsaken social media and most electronics and were doing a fantastic job of keeping away from his prying eyes. He knew for a fact you’d left Gotham, but to where, he did not know exactly. His sources told him you’d probably changed your identity, not wanting to be seen as Bruce Wayne’s ex-girlfriend anymore, wanting a life of your own.
At first, Bruce was terrified.
If you changed your identity and moved away, how was he supposed to protect you? This whole thing was meant to keep you safe – how was he supposed to live without knowing if all of his and your suffering had been in vain?
“Master Wayne, I understand your concern for the Miss’s well-being.” Alfred had told him one night as Bruce was drowning his sorrows in some very-expensive liquor. “But sometimes, we must respect the choices people make for their own safety.”
“What if something happens to her, Alfred?” Bruce asked, voice raspy from exhaustion and the drink. “What if she’s in danger and I can’t reach her? What if this whole thing was for nothing?”
“Sir, part of caring for someone is respecting their decisions. Dr. Jonathan Crane is long gone, and you yourself told me the information he had died with him. There is no one after you or the ones you love anymore. And most important, there is no one after her. If she’s changed her name, it only means she’ll be safer.”
Bruce sighed. Alfred was right to some extent – as he usually was. Crane was dead, and he hadn’t told anyone about you. Changing your name and your identity would probably keep you even safer.
“I loved her, Alfred. I still do.”
“I know, Master Wayne. I did too.” Alfred sighed, placing a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “But you did what had to be done, now, didn’t you? You said it yourself. She is safe, and that’s all that matters.”
Bruce tried to follow that mentality.
For months, he tried to forget you.
Unfortunately, not only had you wormed your way into his heart, you’d done the same thing to his mind. He would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, swearing he could feel your lingering touch, hear your heavenly voice.
During meetings, all he could think of was how you’d usually send him funny texts and memes you found on your lunch breaks. He no longer got your calls, telling him all about the gossip you’d heard at your workplace, and how much you missed him.
The manor felt empty without your touch, your laughter, your presence. Just the mere existence of your toothbrush was enough to calm him down, to remind him you were there, and real, and his.
But he was left with nothing.
You’d gone, and with you, taken his heart.
And yet, despite all the pain, all the heartbreak, life went on.
Days passed; seasons changed.
The daily cycle continued, interrupted.
The sun rose and the sun set, a small reminder that life waited for no one. Alfred told him many times that he couldn’t dwell on the past, and while he tried to, it was hard.
Winter became spring, spring became summer.
And Bruce Wayne’s heart remained unmended.
He tried to move on – really, he did. But he wasn’t quite sure he’d achieved it. He didn’t think of you as much anymore, but he also didn’t think of much else. It was as if he was numb to the outside world, going about his daily routine as Bruce Wayne and his nightly duties as Batman automatically.
It was as if he was on autopilot. Charity galas were boring without you to make fun of everyone, fundraisers sucked if you couldn’t talk to whoever was interesting and get him to have a good time.
Life went on, but it was as if his had paused.
Alfred did his best to keep him in check. Did not allow him to go without any meals, made sure he attended whatever events he had to, and patched him up after rough patrols. He too missed your presence but knew better not to mention it to his boss. All he wanted was for the young master to go back to the person he once was.
One day, he was on his way to Wayne Enterprises. It was late in the morning, but as the CEO of the company, he could afford to be late once or twice. Not only that, but it was also only natural for Bruce Wayne to be fashionably late – even if it was to his own job.
The car suddenly came to a halt. Something underneath Bruce seemed to deflate, and he raised an eyebrow.
“Alfred?” he asked, closing his newspaper.
“I’m sorry sir, there seems to be something wrong with the tires. Perhaps you could go out and check?” The butler replied with a cheeky grin.
“Don’t I pay you enough for that?”
“Not nearly, sir.”
“How unfortunate. Well, I’m quite comfortable here, so why don’t you check it yourself?”
Alfred nodded with a small smile and exited the car.
After around 5 minutes, he looked inside the limo and sighed.
“I’m sorry sir, but we have a flat tire. But we also don’t have a spare one in the trunk, so I’ll have to call someone.”
“Really?”
“Really, sir. I’m sorry.”
Bruce shook his head, waving his newspaper dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just go by foot.”
“Are you sure, sir? It’s still a few blocks away. Perhaps we should wait until someone comes to fix it. And what if something happens to you?”
Bruce gave his butler a pointed look, raising an eyebrow, to which the older man just sighed.
“Alright, fine, you stubborn, stubborn man.”
Bruce chuckled and exited the limo, quickly making his way down the street.
It would be good, clear his head of all the torment. Walking gave him peace, made his mind feel at ease. It was as if a burden as lifted off his shoulders, even if momentarily.
Unfortunately, this respite did not last long.
He was busy looking around himself – eyes trailing the balconies of older Gotham buildings, taking in every person, every door, every window, every life that lives inside each apartment – to notice the figures before him.
But once he was content with the things he’d seen (and decided to organise some sort of charity event, since his city needed him, especially the older streets, with decaying buildings and lives he were sure must be hanging by a thread), he looked up.
And what he saw stole his breath away.
You were standing a few meters away from him, pointing at a shopwindow that had caught your eye. A friend stood by your side; arm linked with yours. He couldn’t care less about her, eyes focused on you, on the big summer hat resting on top of your head and providing shade to your face, on the beautiful smile you wore, on the way your lips moved as you spoke animatedly, on the lovely white dress you adorned.
But most importantly, his eyes were focused on the pretty swell of your belly, and on how one of your hands cupped it lovingly, and the other trailed circles on top of it. He eyed the swell of your breasts that had grown larger, the way your entire being seemed to glow. Not from the sun, just entirely from you.
Bruce stopped dead in his tracks.
You were back. Back in Gotham, back in his life, back to him.
Don’t be an idiot – surely, she’s not back for you.
And how beautiful you looked, hand protectively over your belly. How dazzling, how breathtaking, how shining.
Without even realising it, Bruce stepped forward, eyes glued on your figure. You didn’t seem to notice him, still paying attention to the store in front of you. He could make out the small chatter you were having with your friend – and how much he’d missed the sound of your voice, the lovely musicality of your laughter – it made him feel lighter, fuller, happier.
“I like the blue one,” you said, turning to your friend, “And it’s rather big, so I’m sure he’ll grow into it.”
Your friend seemed to agree with you, “It’ll last for a few months, yeah. But the yellow one is pretty too, don’t you think?”
“Please. A Batman onesie? The last thing I want is my son to wear one of those. He won’t even know who he is, anyway, it’s not like I’m raising him here.” You scoffed.
The girl you were with chuckled, and only then did she notice Bruce, standing far too close.
“Um,” she poked your arm, and you turned to him.
It was as if the whole world faded away.
Your whole story played on your head. Your first meeting, spilling coffee all over his shirt, having a coffee bought by him, the countless dates you went on, dating, moving in together, living what you thought were your happiest years ever, getting proposed to, and eventually finding your husband fucking someone else.
You quickly dropped your gaze to your stomach before looking at him once again and taking a step back. It was stronger than you, an instinct to get away from this man as soon as possible.
"Hey," the words were tumbling out of Bruce's mouth before he could control himself.
When you didn't reply, he took another step forward, making you step back again.
"I have nothing to say to you," you mumbled, looking at your friend. You whispered a quick "let's go” to her and turned on your back to leave. Before you could do it, the man called out your name. You could hear the desperation in his voice, the worry, the heartbreak, the grief.
Tch, you thought, what is there for him to grieve?  You're the one who lost your relationship, your home, the chance for your child to meet his father.
"Please, listen to me," he said, and you saw in his face such vulnerability it scared you. You didn't remember the last time you'd seen Bruce like this, face looking as if he was holding on by a threat.
You were that thread, Bruce thought to himself.
"Did you not hear her?" Your friend came to your rescue, hand protectively over your shoulders. "She doesn't want to talk to you. Now leave it."
Bruce wondered if she knew him. If she knew what he'd done. Had you told anyone? Had you kept it a secret? Might've been hard to do so –  after all, tabloids had loved to exploit his breakup, plastering it all over every cover of ever magazine in Gotham. He'd paid them off to spare you from the spotlight and public eye, but it was too late. People had already begun talking; and what they were saying wasn't polite at all.
"You need to listen to me," he said softly, "You need to listen to what I have to say."
What was he doing? What was he saying? He shouldn't even be talking to you, should be keeping his distance like he'd been doing the past few months. His head told him to stay away – to turn around, go back to the pain and the sulking and the sleepless nights between empty sheets. But his heart was reaching towards you, hoping so desperately that you'd reach out too and save him from the torment he'd been living.
He knew he had no right doing this. He'd hurt you terribly – but it'd been for a good reason, no? He'd kept you safe long enough, hadn't he?
Was it selfish of him to want you back?
Because he did – desperately so. He missed your warmth and your touch. He missed your smiles in the morning and your giggles in the evening. He missed the way you scrunched your nose whenever you took a sip out of his coffee – black with one sugar. He missed the way you walked around with nothing but his shirts on when Alfred was out, teasing him to no end and relishing in the way Bruce's breath hitched when his eyes landed upon you.
But most of all, he missed the way you always comforted him and promised everything would be alright. He missed your tender touch and your warm embrace. Missed your love, and the effect it had on him.
He needed you back.
That much was certain, and he had no doubts about it.
He couldn't bear to be without you any longer. He would keep you safe – God damn it, he would, even if it was the last thing he ever did, but he couldn't be without you anymore. He couldn't live his days inside a Manor that seemed so dull without your shine, eat at a table that seemed so quiet without your chatter, and sleep in a bed that seemed so cold without your body next to his.
Your voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"There's nothing you could say to me that I would possibly want to listen," you said. But your heart was hammering in your chest, and you were sure if he were to strain his ears just a bit, he'd listen to how fast it was racing.  "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."
Bruce's heart fell. He was about to lose you again. He couldn't. His hand dropped to yours, and he held it tightly in between his palms.
"Please," he all but begged, "Just listen to what I have to say. And if you don't care about it, if you don't like what you hear, if you want to go, I'll let you."
"I don't care. Happy? Now let me go."
"Please."
The way he said it made your heart churn. His face was the epitome of heart break, eyes sagged, with deep dark bags under them. You knew Bruce hardly got any sleep as Batman, but this seemed too much. And there was something about the way he looked at you, as if you were some sort of mirage that could disappear within seconds.
You couldn't quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was your hormones feeling nostalgic. Perhaps it was curiosity, making you wonder what the hell he had to say to you that's so important.
Your brain yelled at you though, telling you to stay away from him. This man had ruined your life, used you and thrown you aside. You had no use for him. You deserved better.
And yet, your heart still yearned for him. You couldn't lie – as soon as you laid your eyes on him, it did a little flip, at it usually did.
As it used to do. Not anymore. You're not his anymore.
"Fine," you mumbled, shaking your head. "But not now. I'm busy."
"Yes, yes, of course," he said, nodding desperately. "When can you meet me? Tomorrow? Is tomorrow okay? Is it too soon?"
It's not soon enough, you thought. You really did not have anything else to do today but thought it better not to tell him. You couldn't give him all you wanted at once – you were afraid your poor heart couldn't take it.
Still, something inside you couldn't hide how much your heart still wanted him.
"Tomorrow is fine."
"Great, great. 4 in the afternoon? I could have Alfred pour us something? Maybe a few biscuits?"
It was endearing, how desperate he seemed to get you to sit with him. It was cute.
Stop it. He's not "cute", he ruined your life and tossed you aside. You just want closure. That's it – closure. That's all you want from him.
"Fine. Can I go now?" You asked, before shaking your head and rephrasing. "I'll be going now. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Wait – Should I send for a driver?"
"Unless the Manor has disappeared and teleported somewhere else, I think I can manage." Saying this, you walked away, leaving Bruce at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. There you were, in front of him, and just as quickly as he'd spotted you, you were gone. You were every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. He thought of your pregnant belly, and a shiver ran down your spine.
Whose baby was that? Was it his? Were you carrying another man's child? And why were you back in Gotham? Whatever reason it was, he silently thanked the heavens. It'd brought you back to him, and that's all that mattered. With a newfound sense of determination, Bruce ran back to his limo, where Alfred was still waiting for someone to fix his tire.
"Call the company," he exclaimed, out of breath and panting as he reached the older man. "Cancel all my meetings. Today's and tomorrow's."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. What the hell did his boss get into this time?
"May I ask why, sir?"
Bruce beamed.
"We have company."
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Alfred had mixed emotions about you coming to visit.
On one hand, he was more than glad to see you. He missed you terribly, his book club pal, his gossiper, his nearly adoptive daughter. He looked forward to hugging you again, speaking to you, asking you how you were doing and learning how these past few months had been going for you.
On the other hand, he was positively mortified. He knew Bruce hadn't dealt very well with your absence, and he was afraid of what his young master might do now that you were here and willing to listen to him. And what would he say anyway? He knew Bruce was suffering and had never stopped loving you, but he didn't expect for him to actually try and win you back as soon as he laid eyes on you.
Sighing, he adjusted the tray on top of the kitchen counter, smiling when he heard the doorbell. Walking towards the entrance, he fixed his tie – he too wanted to look presentable for his favourite young lady – and opened it. Your sight was enough for his smile to grow wider. He took you all in, and his eyes got larger as he spotted the large bump on your stomach.
"Hey Alfred," you said, sporting a soft smile and another summer dress – this one, light green.
"Hello Miss." He replied, tears in his eyes. It made him emotional, you with your hands slowly supporting your growing stomach. He'd wanted to see this sight for so long, and while it was endearing, and you looked radiant, it was also heartbreaking that he hadn't been there to see most of it, and that neither had Bruce.
The very same question passed through his head: Whose baby were you carrying?
"You've got room for a plus one?" You asked, eyes dropping to your stomach.
"I think we can manage."
You walked inside, and hugged Alfred tightly close to you. You too saw him as family, and it had broken your heart to cut contact with him. At first, you thought about keeping his phone number and calling him occasionally; but after learning how everyone wanted to get their eyes on you, you decided that perhaps it was for the best if you ceased contact completely.
"I missed you so much, Miss. The Manor is not the same without you," he whispered, rubbing your back comfortingly.
"I missed you too, Alfred," you replied, tears forming in your eyes aswell. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I'm so sorry, I – "
"It's alright, Miss." He pulled away, looking into your eyes with that kind, warm, parental gaze of his, "I understand. I'm just glad I got to see you again."
With this, he led you towards the living room, where Bruce was already, pacing back and forth. It almost made you chuckle – big bad Bat by night, reckless playboy by day Bruce Wayne was pacing circles inside his living room, visibly worried sick.
"Master Wayne," Alfred said, signalling your arrival.
Bruce looked up and you'd think you had just offered him the cure to eternal life or something by the way his gaze held yours.
"Hey," he said, walking towards you, but thinking better of it and standing a few steps away from you. He held forward his hand, hoping that you'd somehow shake it. You did not, and he dropped it.
"Would you like something to drink? Alfred prepared coffee."
"I don't drink coffee. It makes me nauseous." You softly placed your hands on your stomach, and Bruce got the hint immediately,
"Yes – yes, of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. By the look of it, tousled and unkempt, you figured he'd been doing that quite a lot for at least the past half hour. "Is there anything else you'd like, though? A cup of water, perhaps some tea?"
"Tea would be fine, thank you." You turned to look at Alfred when you said these words, although Bruce could tell immediately they weren't for him by the way your voice was coated in sugar –  something he knew he hadn't earned just yet. "You still know my favourite?"
"Of course, Miss," Alfred nodded politely with a smile, "I'll get it for you right away," and made his way towards the kitchen.
You and Bruce remained in silence for a while before he seemingly broke out of a trance.
"Please, do sit down."
You did so, carefully tucking a pillow behind your back, you stretched your legs ever so slightly and sighed in relief, hands resting on top of your stomach. "There, there", you mumbled, "All comfy, aren't we?"
Bruce eyed you and your stomach. There were so many things he wanted to ask you, and yet he did not know where to begin. Should he address the elephant in the room? Should he let you speak about it? What if you did not want to talk about it? Maybe the child wasn't even his – you could've moved on and started a life without him. He has no right to ask.
"You're looking..." he began. You waited for a continuation, and it surely came, seconds after. "Beautiful. Radiant."
"Thank you," was your polite response. You looked around the room – nothing had changed. Still the same paintings up on the walls, still the same portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne holding a very tiny and very happy Bruce, still the same scent of lavender and books.
Still home.
"How have you been?" he asked, sitting down on the couch positioned next to yours, and trying his best to relax.
"How have I been?" you repeated. He wanted to catch up? Really? As if everything you had together in the past had meant nothing?
"Yes," he nodded, gesturing towards yourself. "How have you been these past few months?"
You scoffed. Fine. If he wanted to do this, then he would see it through until the very end.
"Oh, I'm doing just fine, Bruce." You said, venom evident in your words, dripping off them. "In fact, these last few months have been the jolliest of my life. The man I was in a relationship with, who's also the man who had proposed to me broke up because he said he did not love me anymore, and was fucking some random woman when I walked in on him, then he kicked me out of our home, had to go live in a hotel room for a few weeks before I finally got a place far, far away from his prying eyes, cutting edge technology and vigilante alter ego, then I have to deal with gossip magazines wanting to photograph my face and get some sort of statement from me, going as far as to trying to break into my house just to find out what truly happened."
Bruce winced at the harshness of your words. You'd had some terrible couple of months, clearly, and he didn't know what to say.
"But hey! How have you been, Bruce? How's life?" You were being sarcastic – that much was evident, and although he did deserve every ounce of cruelty you gave him, it also hurt.
"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "You can't imagine just how sorry I am... And how much I regret what happened."
"Ah," you sneered, twisting your face in disgust, "Is this why you invited me here? Because you regret hooking up with whoever that was back then? Got into a mess you couldn't undo? Miss me, oh so much, and need me back?"
Each word was like a dagger being plunged into Bruce's heart. Had heartbreak turned you so bitter?
No, not bitter. You were right, after all.
"I'm sorry," he said your name softly, sighing deeply. "I need to tell you something."
"And I'm sure I can't wait to hear whatever it is." You scoffed. Alfred quickly entered the living room, placing a tray with two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. He carefully handed you one of them, before walking away. Bruce's nose scrunched. Ouch.
"Thank you," you smiled at the butler, took a sip out of the mug, and sighed contentedly. "This man makes the best tea I've ever drank."
"He really does. But as I was saying, I need to tell you something."
"Bruce, I don't want to hear sob stories. I didn't come here to hear you whine and moan and complain about your life. I'm sure you suffered a lot, but I am not really interested." There you went again, sarcasm coming naturally to you and your words.
"I just need to tell you what really happened."
Another sneer.
"I saw what really happened Bruce. Stop it with the bullshit."
"Just – " Bruce took another deep breath. "Please. Just listen to me without any interruptions, please. If you want to scream at me and yell and slap me and punch me after, then that's okay."
"Tempting."
"But please, just let me speak."
"Okay."
Bruce looked at you in surprise. Okay? Just like that? So willingly?
"That's why I came here, isn't it? Please get it over with."
The man before you nodded. He wasn't going to sugarcoat things. It was time for you to know the truth.
"Back when we were engaged," he began, "There was this one night I went on patrol. And everything was going fine, until I ran into Crane."
You furrowed your brows. "Crane?" Then, you remembered what he'd said about interrupting, and muttered a quick "Sorry, go on."
"I ran into Crane."
It was almost as if Bruce could see the whole thing playing before him. The darkness of the night, the faint smell of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, the one he was immune to. It was all so clear in his mind – after all, that night was the beginning of the end.
"He started talking to me. Trying to get into my head, as he usually did. But that time was different. He... He started talking about me, my own personal life, my identity. And then he mentioned you." His gaze fell on you, and you were met with hopelessness and despair. It was heart-wrenching.
"He knew you. Knew you, he knew who you were, knew who I am. He threatened to tell Arkham City residents our identities. He threatened to hurt you if I didn't help him."
Your face was pale with worry.
"And what did you do? You didn't help him, did you? It's Crane!"
"The GCPD intervened and killed him on the spot. Some rookie officer convinced it was the best thing to do. Crane was holding a phone in his hand when he died. It contained files, files about all those close to me. I got to delete everything just before he sent it."
You listened attentively. No one had ever gotten as close to unmask Bruce. Well, no one until Crane. You had heard of his death, but only thought it was a good thing that such a criminal was out of the streets.
"And I..." Bruce hesitated. This was the hard part, telling you what he'd done, the hard choice he'd made. "I thought... It was unthinkable to lose you. I just couldn't. Crane had gotten too close. I was terrified darli – " he quickly corrected himself, switching to your name. "I couldn't lose you... I barely slept that night, thinking of what could've happened to you."
In your face, Bruce could see some recognition. Were you putting the pieces together? Did you know?
"I thought..." he continued, "I thought I had to keep you safe. And in my mind, you'd never be safe if you were with me. As long as you were associated with Bruce Wayne, you'd be in constant danger."
"No..." you mumbled, shaking your head,
"And you're so stubborn..." Bruce's eyes shed with unshed tears, voice carrying an amount of emotion you weren't familiar with. "You'd never listen to me. You'd stick by my side and argue that you loved me and didn't care about the danger..."
"You didn't..." you covered your mouth.
"So, the only plausible explanation was driving you away."
The tension shifted immediately in the room. Bruce couldn't tell what was going through your head, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
"I paid someone to put on that little show with me, that day. I knew you were coming home early. It pained me so much to do it, I swear..."
"I can't believe this..." you stood up, attempting to do it quickly but failing because of your stomach. "I can't believe you would do that."
Bruce remained sitting, not wanting to distress you any further.
"Please, you have to understand – everything I did was for your protection."
"So you cheated on me to drive me away!?"
"We were going to get married! If you shared my name, you'd share your enemies, and I promised I would never drag you into my other life. I promised to keep you safe."
"Yeah!" You threw your arms up in the air in frustration. "So! You could've taught me martial arts! Gifted me a taser! Taught me how to throw a punch, give me a gun or something! Instead, you thought the brightest idea was to dump me?"
"It hurt like hell; it really did. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat – I was in hell without you." Bruce was getting desperate. This is not how he wanted things to go, not how he'd pictured it going. You were freaking out, understandably so, but some part of him was hoping you would understand. Would you ever?
"Why didn't you just talk to me?" You were getting angry now. This whole conversation was pissing you off.So Bruce had broken your heart because he wanted to protect you!? "We're two responsible adults, Bruce! You could've told me what happened."
"I couldn't. You would've never agreed to stay away from me."
"Exactly! Because I love you! I'd have stuck with you through thick and thin!"
Bruce was so engaged in the argument; he missed your slip. Love, not loved. Present tense.
"And that was precisely what I didn't want to happen! I didn't want to come home one night and found you dead on the ground or kidnapped! I was doing it all for you!"
"By breaking my heart."
"It had to be done."
"It didn't.
"I was thinking of you."
"How old are we, Bruce!? 16? 17? Why didn't you just talk to me?"
Alfred had tried to exit the perimeter. He didn't want to be anywhere near you two, but decided against that decision. Someone had to be able to step in and protect the young master. He was positive that given the chance, you'd throw something at him, and that was sure to leave a mark. He didn't doubt your abilities.
"I'm so sorry," Bruce pleaded, "But once again, please understand. I was just doing what i thought was best."
"You left me!"
"I was protecting you!"
"You left me, Bruce!" You yelled, unable to fight back your tears. Once again, you didn't know what got you so agitated. Maybe your hormones, maybe the lingering feelings you deep down still had for the man sitting down before you. "I loved you; I needed you by my side, and you left me! Because you thought someone was coming after me? You said it yourself – Crane did not send the files to anyone. We were safe. We were fine. And you went and destroyed everything we had because of some fear you had?"
It was Bruce's turn to stand up, defensively placing his hands in front of his chest.
"I couldn't lose you. Please, please, you have to forgive me. I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have done it, I know. I miss you – I miss you so much, I have for the past few months, I can't live without you."
"I couldn't live without you either and had to make do! I still have to!"
"There was an uncomfortable silence as the last few words hung in the air. It was then that Bruce decided to finally ask the question he'd been meaning to ever since he first saw you on the street.
"Is the child mine?"
You widened your eyes, looking away from him. Your hands instinctively went to your stomach.
"You have no right to ask that."
"Please. Just... Is it mine?"
You thought it over. There was no use in hiding it. The child would most likely grow up to look like him, bear his eyes and smile, scrunch his nose in the way his father did when confused. And for all it was worth, Bruce deserved to know. He wasn't a bad person, and you knew he'd be a good father.
"Yes," you mumbled, softly.
Bruce didn't hesitate to ask his next question.
"When did you find out?"
"A few days later. I was all by myself, and so scared, Bruce..." Sitting down, you looked at the floor, finding a sudden interest in examining your shoes. "It was the hardest thing I've ever done... Bearing this child all by myself, without you... As soon as my stomach started showing, I had to get out of here. Tabloids were going crazy, and I didn't want you finding out. I just wanted a normal life for him."
"Him?"
"Yeah. I know for sure, it's a little boy. I love him so much already..."
Bruce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He knew he'd screwed things up the first morning he woke up without you by his side, but this was simply too much.
"I love you." The determination with which he said it took you by surprise. "I always have. I never stopped. I'm sorry for what I did. Fuck, I'm an idiot. I knew I would put you through hell, and I still did it because it would be the best for you. I'm so sorry."
These words did not fall on deaf ears. You were listening, hung up on every word. Bruce was right there, right in front of you, apologizing and confessing he still loved you. And didn't you love him back? Hadn't you spent countless nights crying over his absence, wishing it were his fingers wiping away the tears that refused to stop, wishing that he was there next to you the moment you realised you were pregnant, wishing he would hug you tightly, kiss your forehead and assure you everything would be fine? That it had all been a very bad nightmare and you were back at home with his body wrapped around yours?
"I... I don't know how I should feel," you said. Which was partially true. Some part of you did still love him, but he'd put you through too much heartache. You weren't about to just forgive him and kiss all his worries away and pretend nothing had ever happened. "You really hurt me, Bruce... I don't know if I can go through that again. What if someone else gets a hold of my information? Of your identity? Are you going to push me away again? Push our son away?"
Bruce looked at you, eyebrows furrowed, and in one quick motion, was down on one knee, hands desperately wanting to rest on top of yours. "I promise," his voice was soft, and it reminded you of your sweet Bruce, of the man you'd fallen in love with and were ready to love forever, "It won't happen again. I'll do better next time. Hell, there won't even be a next time. I promise. I can't live without you."
"Bruce, I... It's not as simple as that..."
"You don't love me anymore?"
"That's not what I said."
"So you do?" A hint of a smile.
"Gosh, Bruce, stop it! What you did was terrible – it destroyed me. Those were the worst months of my life, you have no idea how it felt to be me, alone and pregnant and scared! You can't just waltz back into my life and tell me you love me and are sorry. I don't trust you anymore. It's just not that simple."
"I understand."
Bruce sighed and stood up.
"I just wanted to tell you the truth, anyway. You deserve it. I'm really sorry for what I did."
Once again, you're basked in silence. This time, it was you who broke it, with a question of your own, one that had plagued you ever since he told you everything was staged.
"Did you sleep with her?" Your voice was meek, fragile. Did you want to know the truth?
"No." Bruce answered with determination. "We didn't have sex. I wasn't really naked."
Your eyes widened.
"I guess you were too mad to notice." He smiled sadly.
You looked away at the ground.
Somehow, it did make you a little more at ease that he hadn't really had sex with that woman. It didn't erase all of your pain but gave you some slight respite.
"Have you been with anyone, after..."
"No." He answered again. "There was never anyone else. Never could be. There was only just you. There's always been just you."
You nodded thoughtfully.
"Would you like to feel your son?"
"Huh?"
"He's kicking. Would you?"
Bruce gave you an enthusiastic nod and sat beside you, allowing you to guide your hands to the exact spot the baby was kicking him. Sure enough, he felt something press against his hand repeatedly. He chuckled, automatically leaning forward to feel it better.
"Hey there, little guy," he whispered. "I can't believe you're real."
You stood there for a while, him by your side, hand on top of your stomach. It felt weird, but in a comforting way. It was just you and Bruce and your unborn child, and you somehow felt like things were okay. Everything was fine.
"I've never stopped loving you either," you said after a while. Bruce turned to you, allowing you to speak. "When I found out I was pregnant, all I wanted was to call you, let you know we were finally going to be parents...
"I can't promise that things will return immediately to the way they were. I can't promise I won't be mad at you, because I am, I really am."
You shifted in your seat to face him better. Your eyes trailed his face; how you missed it. The lovely cheekbones you loved to trace on lazy Sunday afternoons, the forehead you loved to kiss on clingy mornings. He looked just as bit as handsome as he did the last time you'd seen him. His eyebags were deeper and more sagged, but that didn't stop him from being the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes upon.
"But... I'm willing to try."
Bruce's head shot up.
What?
"You really hurt me, Bruce. I thought I’d never be happy again, thought my life would be ruined forever. I thought I'd lost the love of my life." Your voice failed. "But... although your idea was just terrible, you might have had the best intentions in mind. I just... Wish you'd have spoken to me first."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It killed me inside, it really did. But everything I do has always been for you. You must know that. Must know that every decision I take, good or bad, light or not, is always with you in thought." This time, Bruce did not avert his gaze. He was done looking away, done hiding, done being without you. Should this be the last time he ever saw you, he lingered on your face, committing it to memory. Your pretty eyes, the beautiful shape of your nose, your slightly parted lips. Had anyone ever been this beautiful?
"I know," you replied, giving him hope. "Which is why... Why I'm..." It took a deep breath and a few circles rubbed on top of your stomach to calm you down. This was a huge decision to make. Allowing Bruce back into your life could either be the greatest thing you would do, or possibly the worst. There was no middle-ground, and it scared you. You needed a middle-ground, needed a safety net, needed something that did not put your unborn son's life at risk.
And yet... You couldn't help but still want Bruce. You knew it. Your heart knew it. It still beat for him as loudly as it did the first time he'd kissed you, the time he'd asked you to be his, the first time you woke up with him by your side. You knew his intentions were good. His idea was terrible – fucking terrible – and it had only cost you pain and sadness. But you also knew Bruce made reckless decisions when it came to you. He was in love, and he was extremely protective. He had no one aside from Alfred and you and knew damn well he couldn't get rid of the old butler even if he tried; but would try his hardest to get rid of you if it only meant you got to live another day.
It was both endearing and soul-crushing, as things often were with Bruce.
"Which is why I'm willing to give you another chance."
Bruce released a sigh of release, and dropped his head to his hands, unable to say a word.
"Again, I can't promise I'll forgive you over night. I've just had the worst few months of my life. I won't fall back into your arms immediately. But I want to give you a chance to make things right."
It was only when you saw his shoulders shake, that you realised Bruce was sobbing. You placed a tentative hand on his shoulder and felt him shake his head.
"Bruce?" you asked, "Please talk to me, are you alright?"
He looked up at you and smiled. You quickly realised they were tears of joy.
"I love you so, so much. And I will spend every day of my life for as long as I shall live showing it. I'll make things right. I know I can't take back these past few months, and I know I can't magically take away the pain – nor can I wish for your forgiveness all at once. But I'll make it up to you. Forever. That is my promise to you. Because I love you. Fuck, it's insane how much I love how much I always have. You're my family, and I never want to be parted from you. Ever again."
He reached towards your face, his fingers wiping away something wet. Were you crying? Surely tears of joy too.
"I love you too, Bruce. I never really stopped."
He nodded and leaned closer to your face, eyes dropping to your lips. It was a small question, but he wanted to be sure.
"Is this okay? Can I?" he asked, eyes never leaving your mouth. "Please?" The last question was whispered so softly, you were actually not sure if you'd actually heard it, or just imagined it.
You replied in kind.
"Please."
And without missing a beat, he pressed his lips against yours.
His kiss was familiar. It felt like home. Bruce kissed slowly, taking his time. He was learning you all over again, tongue playfully fighting with yours. His hand cupped your cheek, and he brought you closer to him. It felt nice, it felt familiar, it felt like home.
You still perfectly in his arms, and the thought made Bruce smile into your kiss, pouring even more of himself into it. You gave back tenfold, pressing against him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You missed this. Missed him. Missed not knowing where you ended and he began, missed feeling the soft beat of his heart against your chest, missed the soft groans that rumbled in his chest, missed being enveloped by him.
When you two eventually parted for air, he did not rest, kissing every inch of your face, until you were smiling and giggling and holding his face in place so you could look him in the eye.
"I love you." You spoke.
"I love you too," he replied, before caressing your stomach. "I promise I'll be here for him. I love him so much already. I'll spoil this boy rotten, give him everything he ever needs."
You smiled.
Your life had taken quite a nasty turn after Bruce had "cheated" on you and dumped you. Back then, you thought it was merely because he was, after all, the billionaire playboy everyone accused him of being. Now, you knew it was only because he loved you more than anything and wanted to keep you safe. Yes, he had hurt you, and you wouldn't forget that so easily – but it had still been an action out of love.
You'd been so lost the day you found out you were pregnant, crying on the bathroom of a hotel, clutching your stomach, and feeling like shit.
But right now, with Bruce by your side, his hands on your stomach and cheek, and his eyes regarding you with such tenderness, such warmth, you knew all would be fine.
You'd finally found each other again.
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A/N: Whew!!!! We made it!!! Yay!!!! Okay so, in case you've made it this far and are interested to find out what the hell happened to me, just keep on reading!
So, as I mentioned before, I just got back to uni. It's killing me. It's kicking my ass. I've been sleeping less than 5 hours per day, and am currently losing my sanity. I don't have the time to sleep, to study, to write. There's so much to do and it's only the second week, and I'm really sorry for the delay, but things have been hectic. I can't remember the last time I slept more than like, 5 hours.
So, this fic is a bit longer than my other 200 Followers Event one. Here's the thing: I got a lovely request from @xxemmarldxx, but in my mind, it was far too big, and far too ambitious for a short 2/3k word drabble (which was the point of my event). So I told her I would do it properly some other time, because it was just too good, but would end up being way too big.
A few days later, I get this request. And they're very similar. Like, really, really similar. So I was like "You know what. Let's combine them. How about we combine the two, and write a big ass drabble the way I wanted to?"
This is the result. I've been writing this for the past week, and to be fair, it was KILLING ME. I was writing in every possible break, using every free space possible to get a few words in, and at some point, I started seeing it more as a "chore" than something I wanted to do. It became "the fic I need to finish", sort of like a burden. And it's not the requesters fault!!! It's just, I was so busy that, in the middle of everything, I couldn't find joy in writing because I was so stressed.
I'm sorry if this piece is bad. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I've done much better in the past, and this is not my best work. The word count got away from me and by the end I was just freaking out because I couldn't write anymore. And that was a real bummer because I love writing and I loved this request so much.
I hope you guys liked reading it and enjoyed it! I really do! I think that for a while I won't be able to write Bruce hahaha, I got a bit tired.
Anyways, I hope you're all having an amazing day!!! <3
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earlgreytea68 · 11 months
Text
LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANT SO MUCH FOR (TOUR) DUST SPOILERS, OKAY?
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Set list:
(1) That Pink Seashell spoken word thing actually opens the show
(2) Love from the Other Side: I assumed they'd play this first, and they did, and they looked very happy with the reception that it got
(3) The Phoenix
(4) Sugar, We're Goin Down: I overheard two guys when I was leaving saying, "I only came to this show for that Sugar song, and it was the third song they played," whatever to those two guys lol
(5) Uma Thurman
(6) A Litttle Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me
(7) Chicago Is So Two Years Ago: I know they always play this song when they play Chicago but the way the show is set up, there's this spoken intro that references a light being left on in Chicago, and then they launch into this song, and so I feel like maybe it's permanently in the set list for this tour, we'll see.
(8) Grand Theft Autumn: Patrick told the story again of how he wrote the lyrics while jogging with Pete. Here is exactly what he said, because I recorded it, hahaha: "I wrote this song out here, jogging, trying to figure out the words. This was back when I wrote a lot of the words. And Pete was jogging with me and he was like, 'Eh, maybe change this, maybe change this.' Before we knew it he was writing all the lyrics." And then Pete said, "Imagine us jogging" lolololol
(9) Calm Before the Storm
(10) This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race: They added a little Peterick-y moment in here? I don't remember them playing at each other during this song in previous performances? It was cute, it was during the instrumental part before Patrick leads the singalong, maybe I've just always missed it? They played it each other and kind of did some kind of kick thing with their legs??
(11) Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes: Honestly, always a delight to hear this song, this is one of my favorites <3
(12) Heaven, Iowa: THIS SONG LIVE, I SWEAR
(13) "The Take Over, the Breaks Over": OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG AND I TOTALLY DIDN'T EXPECT THEM TO PLAY IT, I WAS SO HAPPY
(14) Headfirst Slide into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet: <3 Guess they got over being scared of playing this one lol
(15) Fake Out: I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED I WAS THAT THEY PLAYED THIS ONE OMGGGGGGG. Also, there was some plan I wasn't aware of to, like, hold up cell phones with pink paper over the lights so the crowd lit up pink???? I have no idea who engineered that but it was CHARMING and at the end of the song Pete said, "Thanks for that, guys, that was beautiful," and the stage was on darkness so it seemed absolutely spontaneous on his part and I think they really did like the effect, so, Idk, future shows, keep doing it????
(16) Patrick did some kind of piano interlude where he played "Don't Stop Believin'"????? It was random but he was super charming, I think the rest of the band used it as a break, it was just SO GREAT. Part of his intro was: "Pete was putting together this show and he said to me, 'Hey, you should play piano.' And I was like, 'I kinda only play songs I wrote. I don't really play piano. I don't know how to play piano.' And he's like, 'Eh, you'll figure it out.'" And then Patrick sat down and played gorgeous piano ugh THANKS, PETE.
(17) Last of the Real Ones: I am glad Mania got some love.
(18) Save Rock and Roll
(19) PETE RECITED BABY ANNIHILATION WHAT. I SWEAR TO GOD. I SO DID NOT EXPECT THIS AND I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THAT IT HAPPENED. If you're going to the show, pay attention, because I looked away and apparently there's, like, a magic trick at the end of the monologue where he disappears behind a piece of black silk?????
(20) Crazy Train cover: I...don't know what to say about this randomness hahaha but it happened??
(21) Dance Dance
(22) Hold Me Like a Grudge: I think Patrick adores singing this song, I really do.
(23) G.I.N.A.S.F.S.: I KNOW. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, EITHER.
(24) My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)
(25) Thnks fr th Mmrs
(26) Centuries
(27) Saturday <3
The show ends with a little piano version of So Much (for) Stardust played over the sound system, so pay attention for that.
The set is super Alice in Wonderland-y and I adored it, it's playful and fantastical and has all these whimsical touches and interludes and I just thought it was delightful and at one point there were bubbles, and I heard some people complaining after the concert that the fantasy thing didn't suit their style of music and really, I was surrounded by downers after the concert, I thought they were perfect hahaha. Like, ABSOLUTELY PERFECT. They looked so, so, so tangibly happy, all of them. Patrick sounded fantastic and he looked like he was having a blast, he smiled the whole time.
I have a lot of videos but they seem like they're all pretty terrible, but I'll see how I feel in the morning lol
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ellieverkuasidees · 3 months
Text
Warm Blankets!
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Bimbo!reader
a/n: it's time for me to throw my hat into the ring and finally post for my favorite type of reader! >.< def will show off my oc for this one >:)
synopsis: you and your buff manz(pluz pets!) just kinda lay there and do nothing all day ╰(▔∀▔)╯
tags: fluff, cuddling, simon proposing in a personal space because he doesn't take me as a person who'd propose in public, just overral being cute (´。• ω •。`)
wrds:
it was a lazy sunday. finally simon came back from his missions this week and had a lot of time to be with you. stood at the door, awaiting him. you could hear simon's loud and strong combat boots at the steps, the keys jiggling. you were basically a puppy waiting for her owner to come home. meanwhile the actually puppy wags her tail and yaps.
'shh! riley quiet! he can hear you!' you whispered at the pup, turning her head at you with confusion. 'I can already hear 'yer through the door sweets." simon chuckled through the door. you gasped, picking up riley and scooting behind the couch.
when simon stepped through the door, he saw your little my melody onesies and it's ears. 'baby i can see you.' he laughed, moving over to see you holding riley in your arms as you pout. 'simmy? HIII!!' you squealed. you set riley down as she moved forwards and leaped on his legs. he picked you up and kissed you plush lips.
oh to be home with you. a place of comfort and warmth. 'oh! wait! I have a gift for you!' you jumped off of simon as he furrowed his eyebrow. he took off his mask, scars covering his face as he smiled. riley left his side and followed you upstairs with a yap.
the both of you came back with a blanket of silks and blankets. 'okay! so, i got you a cute..wait for it! kuromi onesie! so we can match. you, me, and riley! she can be pompompurin.'
simon laughed at your adorable mind. so pliant and cute. 'you got this for me?' you nodded as you squealed and handed him the suit. usually, he'll shout at you and cut the poor thing into pieces. but just for you, and only you will he wear something like that.
'this thing? oh god..'
a few minutes later, you see the buffest and burliest kuromi ever seen. you screamed and ran up to simon as he chuckled. god forbid any of his teammates see him like this. 'is this what you wanted?' he asked.
you nodded. 'yes! ah! you look so cute! I got you kuromi because I knew you like black so I got this one for you!' how nice of you! always looking after him. never ending. 'thank you lovie, what are your plans tonight?' your eyes looked up and hummed. 'i dunno! wait! we can watch scary movies! and make like a fort pillow!'
'pillow fort hunny?' you nodded, 'yup! lemme warm up the blankets!' you swiftly left to go to the laundry room, your little slippers tapping and riley following after you as she yapped.
simon shook his head with a crooked smile as he started to pull out some chairs and nearby pillows. he couldn't wait to give you your new gift. a pretty little ring with a nice hot pink rock on top. he can't think of anyone else to come home to but you. his little angel. you were basically made for him. and he wanted to keep you forever.
'okay! i'm back! i have the blankets I want to use for the building process and others are drying okay! so! place the chairs here and-'
he wasn't listening to you. not because you were boring. more like he was just admiring you. he does it everyday. no matter where he's at. on base, duty or even at home. sleeping in the comfort of your arms and warmth, he's always thinking and admiring you.
though your brain is small, your heart was big and ready to share your love with others. you still couldnt do long division and even though keep asking and calling how the ish washer works even though you've been living on your own for years now. sometimes it scares and surprises simon how you lived so long on your own.
'are you even listening babe?' you huffed at him. he stammered and looked up at you. 'y-yeah i am.'
'good! now help me!' you moved one chair to the side and another to the back and give it a little friend as you like to call it. and simon lifted onto the other side of the fort. he drapped over a soft fuzzy white comforter and set the pillows inside, having a beautiful floor decor with a hello kitty blanket. you shoved some stuffies and a chew toy for the pup.
'oh! the blankets are done!' you swoop yourself across the house, again riley still following only lagging behind due to you being a lot faster and bigger than her. simon took out the ring, looking over his shoulder to see if you were still there. no? great. he tucked it under the pillows. he knew your dumb little brain wouldn't figure out where he placed his gift.
'simon! I need help please!' you shouted across the house. simon lifted himself up with a grunt. signally that he was coming to your rescue. when he arrived at the laundry room, he found his sweet girlfriend overwhelmed by huge pink and black blankets. riley was gnawing on one of the blankets and trying all her might to drag it back to the living room.
'I gotcha' ' simon took the weight off of you and carried the warm and fluffy blankets. he started to place some on top of the chairs and fluff them out. you were sti struggling, they were weighted blankets, you came back to see a nicely made fort by your boyfriend.
'ooh! so warm! what are we watching?' you plopped down under the fort, hugging your boyfriend's beefy arm. simon's other hand held the remote, scrolling through the catalog. 'maybe legally blonde eh? you're just like her. smart in your own way, but still a little silly' he said as he slightly tapped your head as you squished up. riley laid in between you and him. her nose was deep into the blanket, barking and growling at it. simon was starting to get worried. his smart little pup might spoil the surprise!
'riley! no! not on my clean sheets! no!' you scolded her as you picked up her small body and moved her to your right side. simon sighed, mentally of course. he was so thankful that you were dumb. if you had any sense, you'd at least ask or try to figure out what's under that pillow. 'well, yeah! i'll watch it.'
simon played the movie, the intro quickly grabbing your attention. you were basically drooling over the early to late 2000's fashion. the pink. the fits,the way they speak. gosh you just wanted to jump into ellie's world and just kiss her and be her best friend. all that going on, simon couldn't take his eyes off. your sweet smell and smile, your rosy and soft cheeks. the way you pointed out everything in that movie.
he remembers when he asked for soap how he should propose to you. he only has 10 minutes before the movie ends. maybe 30? he wasn't paying too much attention to it. soap said, ' I dunno. im single, why the hell are you askin' me?'
not much help, should've asked price before he left. damnnit. he couldn't let this soft moment go by. he needed you to be in his bed with a rock on your finger. nothing else. so maybe now? maybe after the movie? maybe-
'simon. something's poking my side can you see what's under there?' well shit..
might as well get it over with..
'okay. listen to me (reader).' you started to get worried. you knew what simon did as a job. you called it his pew pew job. very accurate if you will. 'simon you're scarin' me..' you whimpered. simon sat up, sneakily pushing the box behind his back. 'nothin' to be scared of.' he assured. 'you know I love you very much right?' you nodded, small tears swelling in your eyes, 'yeah?'
he softly placed the box in your hand. the tears started to flow even more. 'what's this?' you asked, holding the velvet box in your hand. 'I want you to be mine.' he hushed to you, his cheeks getting warm and softer, even with all the scars all over his pale face. 'what do you mean? I am yours!' you squealed.
'I want you to marry me doll..' he mumbled. your eyes opened wide, exposing the tears that have been spilling out. and all of a sudden your eyes are a fountain. you crashed your body into his chest, shaking your head yes as you wailed into his body. ' is that's a yes-'
'YES!'
a/n:it's a series now, gimme gimme GIMME YOUR IDEAS!!!!
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abouttofillhisshoes · 23 days
Text
Facedown - Matty Healy
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A/N: I don't shag men irl, so soz if there are any inaccuracies regarding the ins and outs of anal xx thank you to my mates @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff, @man-im-so-high and @awellposhmagazine for indulging in my stupid questions and mental breakdowns in the GC❤️
wc: 7k
content warnings: smut, fluff, dirty talk, pegging, praise, also a bit of degradation depending on how you look at it, use of sex toys (strap), mentions of lingerie/matty in womens clothing, sex shops, spit, masochism, cursing, polaroids/cameras, so picture kink?, girlie immortalizes him in a picture let it be poetic
“I want you to fuck me.” 
You choke on air. Matty is a blunt person, always has been, never really caring for beating around the bush. You didn't mind it, but you feel like he could’ve worded that a bit more eloquently. He’s laying on top of you, hair tickling the bottom of your chin, curls obstructing a bit of your vision. 
“Okay, fucking hold up, what?” you're convinced you've misheard him. Even he wouldn't be that blunt. He takes a deep breath, his tone slow and condescending
“I said, I want you to fu-” you hit him, giggling in disbelief. He jumps back in surprise, a grin spreading onto his face. He was actually serious.  
“I fucking heard what you said, jesus.” Matty has this look in his eye when he’s about to do something he knows you won't like, this glimmer in his eye, and you see it so clearly. His hand grabs your face, licking across your cheek, starting from the edge of your jaw. You squirm away, wiping your skin with your hand, throwing curses at him. 
“Fuck's sake, you're like a dog. Behave and I'll give you a treat, christ.” 
“Depends on what the treat is.” he winks at you, grinning widely as you screw your eyes shut in annoyance. He just wouldn't let up, like it would kill him to be PG for even five seconds. 
“So?” he asks, referring to his original statement.
‘I want you to fuck me.’ 
His words echo through your head, making all sorts of images flash in front of your eyes. Of course he notices, trailing his fingers up your bare arm, making goosebumps kiss your skin in his wake.
It's hard to even think straight, the suddenness of the question making your head spin. The two of you had never talked about it before, thinking it wasn't even on the table. 
“Are you- are you sure?” you stutter out, a small part of you scared he was joking, trying to see how you would react. His answer makes you sigh in relief.  
“Never been more sure.'' He's smiling, a genuine, reassuring smile. 
“Actually?” 
“No, I meant metaphysically, philosophically-” he deadpans, but it takes only a few seconds for him to crack up laughing, burying his face into your chest, trying to stifle his giggles. 
You breathe out, weaving a gentle hand through his hair, guiding him up to kiss you, lips locking as he gasps softly. You stay like that for a while, kissing and holding each other, neither wanting to let go. 
“You're mental.” you mumble when he pulls away, brushing a small strand of hair out of your eyes, sweetly tucking it behind your ear. 
“Yet, you love me.” It's so perfect. His body is warm against yours, acting as a sort of weighted blanket, pressing you into the sofa. The scent of his perfume is strong, tinged with a hint of the spliff you’d both smoked earlier.
—-------------------------------------------------------------
You can tell he’s never been in an actual sex shop by the was his eyes widen when you enter, flicking between the multitude of displays and posters, having no idea where or what to look at. His hand grasps yours, one goal in mind as you both step inside, heading towards a specific aisle. Strap-ons. 
Even if it was his first visit, he seems immediately at home, casually browsing through strap-ons and vibrators like he was in a department store, looking at lampshades or containers. At some point, you manage to break away from him, finding yourself in the lingerie section, lace and silk and satin surrounding you on all sides. Your fingers graze over a specific pair of green lace panties, the material soft to the touch. 
Your mind goes back to that night, to the memory of Matty, on your bed, shirtless and panting, the only thing concealing him a pair of lacey black womens underwear. You wonder if he’d be into it, buying more stuff like that, or if he maybe had more back home, hidden in a secret corner of his drawer. 
You're snapped back into reality by a repetitive tap on your shoulder, turning around to see it was Matty. He was holding something in his hand; a light purple, see through strap, decorated with specks of glitter and incredibly detailed. You blush at the sight, before remembering where you actually were. It looked big in his hands, intimidating almost. 
“This one’s pink and glittery! Fucking awesome, who knew they had so many types?” he booms, holding it up right in front of your face. A few people turn, but most ignore his loud proclamation, going back to their own shopping. 
“You're so girly, Jesus christ.” you snigger, stifling a crude laugh. It was so Matty, always one to pick the most extravagant, out of the ordinary, even when it came to sex toys.  
“Don’t make me fucking start-” he threatens, and you promptly cover his mouth with your palm, staring deep into his eyes. 
“Shut it.” and to your surprise, he did. 
He goes back to the isle he came from, looking for more options. You’d expected it to be more uncomfortable, but you felt light, like anything was on the table. Seeing him move out of your sight, you turn back to the fabric you’d been admiring earlier, running your fingers over it, and out of the corner of your eye, something shiny catches your attention. Garters. 
Your core stirs at the thought of Matty in garters, maybe even stockings or heels. You wonder if he’d even be into it, or if that was where his adventures in femininity ended. Lost in your fantasies, you don't even realize you’d picked something up. A black garter, little heart details making it sparkle in the low light of the shop, leather and metal cool against your skin. 
“Oh?” you hear a teasing voice say from behind, making you jump slightly. Clutching the object between your fingers, you spin around, eyes meeting Matty’s, and he has this filthy grin on his face, knowing he’s caught you.
“What's this?” he takes it from your hand, looking at it closely. His eyes light up when he realizes what it is, or more, who it's for. Matty’s ego inflates as he dangled in front of you, relishing in your flustered reaction, a blush creeping onto your face. 
“Is this meant for me?” he asks, pressing it onto his thigh over his jeans, trying to figure out how it would look. He moves to the mirror located off to the side to get a better look, admiring himself in the mirror.
“You don't have to- it's just an idea.” you say defensively, scared he’ll find it weird or odd or-
“It's a wonderful one. Do tell me more, darling.” his hand trails up your arm, landing on your shoulder. You don't have time to react as he pulls you in for a kiss, short and hot. A suggestion.
You stare at him for a few moments, not sure how to react. 
“What else do you want to see me in? This, perhaps?” he struts over to the lingerie section, picking up a pair of silk panties, showing them to you. You nod your head, earning a sly grin and a wink from Matty as he puts them into his little basket.
“Or are you more of a lace kinda gal?” There's a hint of tease in his voice as he holds up another pair. The green pair. 
Your breath hitches as he stares at you, looking for a reaction, smiling victoriously when he sees it. Raising his eyebrows, he wordlessly adds them to the growing pile of merchandise he’s accumulated in the short span he’d been wandering around the store. 
“Fucking hell.” you mutter under your breath as he grabs your hand, dragging you over to the garters. It all seems unreal, the way he confidently shows off the pieces over his clothes, ‘modeling’ for you in front of other shoppers, utterly shameless. 
“I'll wear it for you, you just have to tell me what you want.” he parrots your words back at you. ‘Just tell me what you want, Matthew’
If only he knew. 
“You look pretty in everything Matty, I'd rather you pick.”
“And I'd rather you be turned on, hm? C’mon, tell me, I don't bite.” you giggle a bit at his choice of words, the marks on your neck contradicting his statement. 
“You like it when I'm pretty for you?” he whispers into your ear, the words going straight to your core. Your knees feel weak, ready to buckle at any moment if he keeps talking like that.
Nodding frantically, you press a small kiss to his lips, taking his hand. You lead him to the shoes, heels and boots of all heights and colors stacked neatly in piles against a wall.
“Oh, I'm liking this turn of events.” he grins, hands reaching out to touch a specific pair of black platforms, adorned with small gemstones along the strap. You had a similar pair, knowing just how hard they were here to walk in. 
“You are?” you question, feeling his free hand wrap around your waist, bringing the shoes up for you to touch, the leather rough under your fingertips.
“You turn me on so much it fucking hurts. I love being your little fantasy, all dolled up for you.” he speaks slowly, quiet enough so that only you can hear. You cough, almost choking on air as he adds the shoes to the basket, walking off as though nothing happened. 
“This one?” he asks, holding up another toy. A pale pink strap-on, less glittery than the last one, but still incredibly eye-catching. You eye him up and down, the way he stood like he was holding the most normal thing ever appalling you. 
“You sure?” he nods enthusiastically, eyes silently begging you to say yes. “Imagine how pretty i’d look, imagine the pictures-” 
Oh, he loved to tease you about those, your collection of filthy polaroids growing larger and larger the longer you were together, stashed at the bottom of your nightstand. 
“Sure you can take it?'' The expression on his face is priceless as you fight fire with fire, his grin vanishing, being replaced with an embarrassed blush dusting his face. 
He wordlessly adds it, walking off in the direction of the till. You follow closely, watching him take a bottle of lube (strawberry flavored, because it's Matty) from the shelf, placing it in the basket.
It was all so new, uncharted territory for both of you. Sure, he teased and you teased back, throwing witty retorts at each other until one eventually gave up, but you were both equally nervous and excited, the idea absolutely thrilling. 
The bus ride back home is slightly awkward, the bags in your hands adorning the very obvious logo of the sex shop you’d just been in, earning judging glances from strangers. Matty remains unbothered, engrossed in an old edition of vogue he’d bought at check out. You watch him leaf through the pages, inspecting outfits and designs, muttering when he doesn't agree with them. It was endearing, watching him critique world famous fashion designers, like his opinion would hold and weight in a proper argument. 
200 quid was what the trip had cost you, spending way more than you had planned. Matty had paid for it with his parents' money that they sent to him every so often, wanting him to be able to live comfortably even if they were away. You felt sort of bad, offering to use your own cash, quickly being swatted away by an insistent Matty.
“I have to pay, seeing as I am a gentleman. Besides, you're going to be taking great care of me later, so-” you manage to cut him off with a stealth elbow in the ribs, sparing the poor cashier from one of his terribly inappropriate rants. 
—----------------------------------------------------
Home is comfortable, much unlike the harsh summer weather and the beating sun that waited for you outside. Unlocking the door, you've met with the soft hum of the air conditioner, the cool air kissing your skin. Matty lets out a relieved sigh as he finally sets down the bags, stretching his arms over his head. You catch a glimpse of his lower stomach, a small trail of hair traveling from his belly button and into the waistband of his pants, which were hung obscenely low on his hips. 
“Do you want to-” you're cut off by Matty’s lips on yours, one hand gripping onto the base of your neck, the other pulling you in by the waist. Despite being almost three inches taller, you manage to overpower him quickly, pressing him into the wall behind him. He gasps against your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as you grasp him by the hair, tugging him down to meet you. 
“Desperate, much?” you say condescending, one of your fingers trailing down the hollow of his throat, grazing the skin enough to leave a faint red mark. 
He loved seeing the aftermath of you on his body, and you’ve caught him admiring himself in the mirror more than once, running his fingertips over the bruises and scratches, reliving the moments that caused them. It's not like he left you bare, either, the complete opposite, actually. Your neck was full of hickeys in various colors, some more faded than others. 
He loved using his teeth, and had once left an incredibly obvious bite mark on the skin just above your collarbone, getting disgusted and borderline traumatized looks from both Ross and George. Adam never did mention i, but you caught him stealing glances at both of you, his tell tale ‘what the actual fuck did you do’ look on his face. 
“You’re one to talk, don’t think I didnt see how you looked at me back there.” he smirks against your lips, tongue swiping along your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. You use your body weight to hold him up against the wall, pressing a knee right between his legs, a move he loved to use on you, and watching you grind against him is his favorite sight in the whole world.
His hips buck against your lower half, his hard-on brushing up against your thigh. He groans at the slight friction, repeating the action until you stop him.  
“Please, fuck- please.” he breathes, eyeing the bag on the ground behind you with a look of pure lust on his face.
Your knees feel weak, your stomach flipping as he reaches out to touch your face, trailing his fingers down your jaw and onto your neck, lovingly pressing kisses all over your skin, almost as if to try and convince you of something.
Wordlessly, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, leading him down the long hallway and up the stairs, almost tripping. You near the bedroom, unable to take your hands off each other as he pathetically whimpers into your mouth, nails clawing at your back.
The door swings open and you push him forward until the back of his knees hit the bed, making him fall onto it. 
“Been thinking ‘bout this for a while, haven't you?” he nods slowly, chest heaving from the sheer force of your kiss, leaving him breathless.  
“You can’t imagine.” he answers, eyes looking up at you from his spot on the bed, wide and full of want. 
“So pretty.” you whisper to yourself, reaching down to push his shirt up, revealing that little bit of hair on his stomach, so incredibly sexy it made your head spin. 
“Take your shirt off for me, I'll be back.” you kiss him again, softly this time, not even looking at his reaction before turning around and disappearing through the door. Your legs carry you as fast as they can go, taking two steps at a time as you race downstairs, eyes settling on the hot pink paper bag left abandoned on the floor. 
Rifling through the pile of various clothes, underwear, gags, toys; really anything you could think of, your breath hitches as your fingers brush against cold resin. Of course it was made of resin, ridiculously expensive as well, typical Matty. You laugh to yourself, taking a close look at the toy in your hands.
It was pale pink, hyper realistic veins running down the sides of it, the actual strappy part a deep purple, almost black. Your heart thrums against your ribcage, almost forgetting one vital thing: the lube. 
The sight before you open the door again is one that should be chiseled into stone and hung up for thousands of years. Matty is on the bed, further up so that his head is resting on the metal bed frame up against the wall, it being more comfortable that way. His shirt is off, just like you had told him. 
One thing made you freeze. His hand was covering his lower half, palming his obvious hard on through his insanely tight jeans. It looked painful, well hidden by the filthy smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips, making your heart skip a beat. 
“Kept me waiting.'' His voice is low, raspy, and desperate, even if he tries to play it off. You move without thinking, watching his eyes flicker over to the toy in your hand, which you place onto the bed out of his reach. 
“Not my fault you can't go five seconds without touching yourself.” you shoot back, kneeling onto the soft mattress. 
“Sort of is, isn't it?” he sounds playful, almost giddy as you catch his lips in a kiss. 
“You were begging so nicely before, what happened?” you fake pout at him, putting on a slightly condescending tone as he rolls his eyes at you. 
“I caught my breath.” he says, hands settling on your hips as you straddle him properly, his aching cock grinding against the curve of your ass. It feels amazing, your ego swelling as you take him in, needy and wanting for you and you only. 
“Yeah?” 
“Might have to take it again.” 
You get what he’s playing at immediately, reaching up to wrap your hand around his throat. Matty lets out a choked gasp, eyes widening at the sensation. 
“Fuck-” he’s cut off by you pressing down harder, watching all the blood in his head rush down south. 
“What? Couldn't quite hear you, speak up.” you taunt, loving watching him struggle to answer you, all that came out being needy gasps and curses.
“Please-” his breath hitches when you reach down to skillfully unbutton his pants with one hand, silently thanking the gods above he had decided to forgo a belt today, peeling the jeans off of him. He lets out a choked moan as you grip him through his boxers, wishing he had worn a pair of women’s panties, knowing it would rile you up even more.  
 “What? Use your words, Matthew, tell me what you want.” you tease, ignoring his silent begging, only slightly letting go of his throat, scared he wasn't properly getting oxygen. 
“Touch me, please.” he manages to force out, tears of relief welling up in his eyes when you take him out of his boxers, stroking his cock lightly. 
“This all for me? All because of that toy? Filthy, filthy boy.” his mind blanks, ecstacy overtaking his body and mind, the only thing he could think of was how fucking lucky he was. The strap is only visible in the corner of your eye as you kiss him hard, slipping your tongue into his mouth, drinking in every little gasp. 
You dig your thumb into his slit, his hips arching off the bed and into your hand, spurts of precum leaking out of his tip. You smile at his reaction, one question still running through your mind. This was all so new, and you were riffing off of what you already knew he liked, trying to build up as much tension as possible. 
“Have you done this before?” he takes a second to answer, slowly nodding his head. You motion for him to elaborate. A pang of insecurity rushes through you at the thought of him doing this with someone else, another person seeing him like this. You push it all down, turning your full attention to Matty. 
“Only alone, trying some things out..” his voice is uncharacteristically small, eyes avoiding you as he stutters over the second part of his sentence, clearly a bit embarrassed. 
“Oh yeah? Did it feel good?” you encourage him, desperate to make him feel as comfortable as possible. He smirks, and you can basically see the memories flash behind his eyes. 
Alone, late at night. Curiosity striking, clothes hitting the floor of his old bedroom. A mess of lube and spit, fingers experimentally curling upwards and finally, finally hitting that perfect spot deep inside of him, making him moan into his pillow, trying to muffle the sound. 
But of course, Matty has to do and say something so utterly stupid, it makes your eyes hurt from rolling them. 
“It’ll feel so much better if you do it for me, darling. Treat me right and all, seeing as I am your girl-” you playfully hit his arm, effectively shutting him up. He wasn't fully wrong, but the way he worded it was purposefully supposed to make you cringe, your eyes screwing shut and hands going to cover your face in embarrassment. 
“Shut up, what is your damage?” you ask, glaring at him as he tries his best to stifle his giggles. It's infectious, and soon you start laughing as well, falling into his arms, losing it at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Can you take nothing seriously?” It's a rhetorical question, but he still answers.
 “Nothing.” he drags out the word, mocking you.
You take this opportunity to tug at his cock, wiping the smug grin directly from his face. It was satisfying, watching him go from cocky and borderline bratty, to a sweet, moldable putty in the palm of your hand, willing to do whatever you asked of him.
 “A-ah oh fuck, i’m not gonna- stop.” he gasps, trying to push you off. You fight back, pinning him down using your entire body, your fingertips ghosting over his cock. 
“Gotta get you ready to take me, don't want it to hurt, do you?” your voice drips with lust, relishing in the wanton sounds he lets out at your words. Matty looks at you, mouth slightly ajar as if trying to say something. You nod at him. 
“I can- I can show you. If you want. We both know how much you like to watch me.” he gestures to the camera sitting on the nightstand, grinning from ear to ear. 
“Go on.” you whisper, your voice cracking. 
He flips around, and you use this little bit of time to slip your own clothes off, leaving your shirt and panties on, settling onto the bed behind him.
His hands reach for the bottle of lube, blindly feeling around for it. You hand it to him with a sickly sweet smile, making his stomach flip as he spreads his legs, a performative moan leaving his lips as he uncaps it with his teeth, pouring the liquid onto his fingers.   
It's weird, seeing him in this position, facedown against the mattress, tugging his boxers down with his clean hand. He can feel your eyes on him, raking over his milky skin, watching him take a deep breath as the cool lube hits his skin. 
“You look pretty.” you hear him snigger into the pillow at the breathlessness of your voice.  “Right? Good genes, innit?” he says smugly, craning his head around to get a look at your annoyed expression.
“Oh fuck off.” you smack him on the arse, taking the piss out of his stupid comments. 
He gasps, and now it's your turn to be smug, grazing your nails over the skin you’d just hit 
“Seriously? That turned you on?” he nods, tracing his lube covered fingers over his hole, shivering a bit before pushing one in. 
A string of moans and curses spill from lips, panting as his back arches at the intrusion. You watch him with wide eyes, taking every minuscule twitch of his body as he curls them slightly, going even deeper. You commit everything to memory, wanting this moment to last forever, and you reach out to trail your hands down his sides, digging your slightly grown out nails into his hips, making him moan into the pillows.  
“Giving me a proper show then. Anything to get my attention, right?” you mumble, leaning over him as he fingers himself for you, groaning and twitching against the mattress, overcome with pleasure.
“It’s working isn't it?” he forces out, the feeling of your chest pressed to his back making his eyes roll back in his head, his tip leaking spurts of precum onto the sheets  
“Fuck, yeah, its working.” 
His fingers brush up against a certain spot inside of him and he quite literally shakes, arching and pushing down onto his digits, his body begging for more. You watch, entranced in every movement he makes, in a sort of daze. 
You could sense him gaining back a sense of confidence when he peers back at you, seeing your blissed out expression at the sight of him fucking himself open for you, moans and whimpers going straight to the growing heat in your core.
“Wanna fuck me? Make me moan for you?” he teases, moving his lube covered hand to his cock, tugging at himself as you pull him closer. The strap next to you burns a hole into your brain, and you reach for it, hand gliding over the resin. 
“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?” That was the final straw that made you scramble up, fumbling with the fastens of the toy, unbuckling them and slipping it over your underwear, the weight of it a bit strange. 
 “I’m going to make you eat those words.” you threaten, one of your hands threading through his hair, pulling his face up before dropping it back onto the pillows. He whimpers at the sharp pain radiating from his scalp, spreading all the way to his fingertips that clutch the sheets so tightly, his knuckles look pale white. 
“It's what I'm counting on, darling.” he winks, arching his back towards you, grinding his arse against your strap. This was really happening. Sucking in a deep breath, you steady yourself on your knees, taking the toy into your hand, circling his hole with it. A sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips as he relaxes into the bed, arse up and face buried into the dark blue fabric of his pillow. 
The sound of the lube covering the strap is a bit awkward, and you both laugh lightheartedly, nervous and excited to do this with each other, to each other. He groans as you finally line up with his entrance, the tip teasing him as he bucks back onto it.  
“Want me to go slow?” you ask, slightly nervous, scared of doing something wrong or god forbid, hurting him in any way. 
“Fuck me slow, yeah?” His words drip with lust, raspy and deliberately drawn out. He notices your hesitation, and his hand reaches back to grab yours, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin of your palm.  
“Jesus, you make it sound so filthy.” His vulgar words were nothing new, his cocky manner only another tool to get you to lose it on him, never showing mercy. Just like he liked it. Rough, hard, fast, never ending pleasure until both of you were fully satisfied. 
“Stop being a tease and just fuck me.” he was now at the point of making demands, blatantly ignoring the imbalance of power between you. You tut at him, nails digging into the fat of his arse, making him wince in pain.
“Not in a place to be demanding things from me, are you now?” your tone is deliciously condescending, making his cock involuntarily twitch under him, begging for attention. 
“You want it just as much as me.” he breathes loudly, a feeble attempt at trying not to sound as desperate as he really was, not wanting to admit defeat. 
“Make me mess, fuck me dumb, I know you want to.” an animalistic groan rips itself from your throat as you push into him, feeling the smallest bit of resistance at first. 
Remembering his little reaction from earlier, you experimentally smack the side of his arse, right where its curve meets the top of his thigh, and he shudders beneath you, crying out in pleasure. You don't know what you're doing, but you do gain a flicker of confidence when he grinds down against the bed, mumbling into the pillow. Asking him to speak up, his face is now visible as he moans, hips pushing back onto the toy as you pull back out, leaving him feeling empty.
You snap your hips forward, a bit harsher this time, watching and listening for his reaction, wanting to make it feel as good as possible for him. He was trusting you with the most intimate part of him, giving up almost all control as his arms go slack under him, nothing holding his body up anymore. 
“Fuckk, that's so good.” he breathes as you set a delicate but even rhythm, speeding up a bit with every thrust as he slowly gets used to the sensation. It takes a few minutes of fucking him at an agonizing pace until you feel his whole body tense up, a choked moan spilling from his parted, spit covered lips. Your breath hitches at the sight of him drooling, eyes screwed shut in pure bliss. 
“OH FUCKK- right there right there right there jesus christ, fuck-” he curses, clawing around him, trying to find something to bring him back down to reality as your strap brushes up against his G-spot. There's a wet patch on the bed under him, precum covering the blue fabric of the sheets. 
“Sound so pretty, all for me.” you hit that same spot over and over as he pathetically cries out your name, begging for you to go faster. 
“Please, it's so good, so good, fuck me please oh FUCK.” you oblige, gripping onto his hips as you slam back into him, his back arching sharply as you pant, your cheeks a bright red. Your whole body is flushes crimson, your cunt clenching around nothing as you get off to the sounds and movements he makes, your witty words getting caught in the back of your throat
You're so incredibly turned on that everything else disappears around you, your only focus being a desperate Matty under you, writhing in pleasure as he experiences actual heaven, his whole body covered in a thin layer of sweat, making him glow in the dim light of the bedroom.
Sinful sounds fills the bedroom, reverberating off the walls making you feel dizzy, partially from the effort and partially from the boy in your bed, whimpering your name betweens strings of curses, begging you to just fuck him harder. 
Matty, though he hates it, is awfully predictable. He has cues that let you know when he’s close, his voice pitching up several octaves as you slam into him, never faltering. 
You take the opportunity to press your chest against the curve of his back, hard nipples rubbing against his skin through your thin shirt. Your voice is low, whispering lewd promises against his ear, occasionally nibbling at the skin, sucking a hickey into it. 
“Gonna cum for me? I can see you leaking all over the sheets, dirty boy” he cries at your words, tears of overwhelming pleasure streaming down his face, leaving small stains on the pillow. 
“Yesyesyes please don’t stop- so close.” he begs, every part of his body twitching and tensing, so close to the edge he could taste it. 
You don't know what possesses you. Maybe it was his comment from earlier, his tone playful and teasing, eyes dark with desire. 
“Wanna take a pretty picture with that little camera of yours?”
It's like a foreign force taking over your body. You still, ignoring Matty’s pleas for you to keep going, his hips bucking wildly onto the toy still deep inside of him.
“No- nonono please, i was so close, fuck.” you click your tongue at him, effectively shutting him up
He winces when you move, hand reaching for something on the nightstand, not even realizing what you were doing. The plastic is heavy in your hands, black lense staring back at you as you reposition yourself behind Matty, the tip of your strap teasing his hole.
He thinks you’ll continue as normal, that you'll give him what he’s been craving this entire time. All he wants to do is cum, mind so clouded with desire that he could barely speak properly
Your hands threads into his hair, his neck limp as you pull him up by it. Your fingers find the shutter, knowing you had to act fast to get the result you so desperately wanted.
Pulling his head further back so his whole face was visible, you position the camera in front of it, the sight of the lense making Matty’s heart skip a beat. 
Right as you take the picture, you violently snap your hips forward, thrusting into him at a brutal pace, making his face contort in ecstasy, mouth falling open, revealing a pink tongue between his lips.
The camera flash is disorienting for him, the shutter barely heard over his impossibly loud moans, the sounds making you feel weightless.
He lets out a high laugh as he fully gets what you’d just done, only proving his earlier point further. His little victory is interrupted by his impending orgasm, the combination of the pressure from your strap on his G-spot and the delicious friction of the sheets rubbing against his cock sending him into a lust driven frenzy. 
His moans are high pitched, almost feminine as he buries his face into his slack arms, trying to bite back his noises. You tell him to quit it, demanding to hear every single cry that leaves his lips.
“You’re such a brat, acting like I cant have you fucking purring under me in the blink of an eye.” you speak, an intense feeling of power and control taking your body as you slam into him, licking up the skin of his bare neck, making him shudder under your touch. 
“I promise i’ll be good- just please let me cum.” he’s a blubbering mess, tears rolling down his cheeks as you tug harshly on his hair, the pain only making it harder for him to hold off his orgasm.
“Please- I need it so bad- fuck, please.” 
“Oh, you need it, do you?” you taunt him, your fingers moving to shove their way into his mouth, pressing down on his wet, hot tongue. The whimper he lets out as you gag him makes your brain short circuit, your eyes are fixed on the way he grinds his hips to meet your frantic thrusts, desperate to get himself off.
“Go on then, cum all over our nice sheets. Make everything dirty, just like you are, aren't you darling?” the filthy words spill from your lips before you could even think, and Matty stills for a second before moaning around your fingers, bucking against the mattress. 
“So good, so fucking good- oh my god, fuck, feels so good-” his words are muffled by your fingers, and as much as you need to hear him, you let it slide, wanting your perfect boy to finally come undone. He cums with a scream, an actual, guttural scream of your name, convulsing under your touch as you reach around and grip his cock, working him through his orgasm. 
He gasps as ropes of cum paint the sheets, covering your hand. You slow down your thrusts, not wanting to rip him out of his dazed state just yet. He whimpers as you pull out, feeling strangely empty without you filling up every inch of him. His body is limp against the bed, chest heaving trying to take in as much oxygen as possible as he comes down from his high, slowly but surely. 
You yelp when a hand grips the side of your arm suddenly, pulling you down onto the bed next to him. Matty’s sweet smile makes your heart swell up with love as you make eye contact, his brown eyes drooped half shut in pleasure. 
“Fucking mint.” he breathes, giggling as you roll your eyes at his utterly unsexy reaction to you fucking his brains out. 
“Really?” 
His smile turns into a grin as he pulls you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against yours. You hand cups his cheeks, wiping aways what's left of his tears.
“I fucking love you, that was world altering, fuck me.”   
“I already did, remember?” the opportunity was right there, and you both erupt into a fit of laughter at your bad jokes, grinning widely at each other. Matty lets out a grossed-out groan when he accidently rolls into the wet patch he had left in the bed, crying at the feeling of the damp fabric against his bare legs.
But, in typical Matty fashion, he opts to just cope, too lazy and fucked out to do anything about it. You try to convince him to get up, shower, maybe do anything except roll around in his cum soaked sheets. He flat out refuses, gripping your waist so tightly you felt Matty-shaped bruises form on the skin. 
He forces you to lay with him, not letting you get up. 
“Did it hurt?” you ask tentatively, genuinely curious. He shakes his head, trying to describe the sensation. 
“A bit, but it felt really fucking great after about two seconds, so totally worth it.” he kisses you again, softer but still passionate, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down lightly. 
“Did you like it?” he asks, trailing a finger up and down your arm, scratching it comfortingly. 
All you can do is smile, the memory of what you felt making you giddy. 
“I felt powerful.” you confess, a faint blush spreading onto your already flushed cheeks. Might as well let it all out, right? 
“You like being powerful?” you nod your head, confirming the sneaking suspicion he’s had since that very first night on his living room sofa. 
“I like it when you hurt me.” you laugh, that information having been painfully obvious for a while now. 
“I know, darling, you make it so obvious.” he curses at you for quote un-quote ‘kink shaming’ him, immediately mentioning your little knack for photography. 
“What do you do with the pictures?” you’ve never told him what happens to the polaroids after they properly develop, stashed in your nightstand drawer. 
“I don't kiss and tell.” you snigger at his hurt reaction, now even more desperate to know what goes on in your mind when your finger presses down on the shutter, immortalizing Matty in a picture as small as the palm of your hand. 
“That does not work if I'm the one you kissed, I’m afraid.” you dismiss him with a shake of your head, watching the hope leave his face. He nags you further, offering all sorts of services to get you to confess to him.
“I’ll show you sometime.” his eyes light up, ready to make yet another filthy comment. You press a finger to his lips, shushing him like he was a misbehaved child, smirking at his reaction. 
“Only if you're good, though.” he nods his head so eagerly, you're afraid he might get whiplash as he shuffles closer to you, nuzzling his face into your shirt (well, his goal was clearly your tits, but you didn't need to know that.)
“I'll be so good for you, you’ll regret ever denying me.” you laugh, vowing to hold him to it.  
157 notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 3 days
Note
Hey lovely, today request from me🥰
I got struck on an idea where reader tried to dominate Elijah but always fail so, she get Klaus help with some magical witchy rope or something to subdue him, which was successful.
Tho here's the thing, reader is inexperienced in doing something like that and not prepped enough to take him, cuz y'know Elijah is big.. hehehe😌🤭so she started tear up, and ask for his help. Elijah being a smug he is punish her happily after...can you added a sprinkle of daddy kink and overstimulation, pretty puh-lease with the cherry on top🙏🥺
Oh btw your story always superb 🤩 😁
Bindings
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You ask Davina for help with creating something to tie up Elijah... only for you to get in way over your head. Luckily, he is in a forgiving mood.
♡♡ Thanks for the request anon! I decided to change it from Klaus to Davina, because I just can't see Klaus being okay with you essentially making a weapon against his family... Even if the reason behind it is just for some kinky fun ♡♡
4.9k words - Warnings: smut, *magical* bondage, dom!elijah, daddy!kink, spanking, choking, sex toys and a whole lotta praise...
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You sat in Davina's greenhouse, looking around at all the various plants and flowers the young witch had collected. You had asked Davina to meet up with you to help with a problem, one that was a bit awkward to even say out loud, but you knew that she of all people would understand.
You watched her browse through her books, trying to find the spell you had requested. After a few moments, Davina had found the page and started gathering the items needed.
"Davina?" you said.
She looked up from the table and gave you a curious look. "Yeah?"
"You don't think this is a little crazy? I mean, it's a bit of a long shot."
Davina smiled. "Not at all. I may have.... tried it myself... with Kol," she replied, looking away with a light blush.
Your eyes went wide. "Oh, my God. It worked?"
She shrugged trying to appear cool, but her mischievous grin gave away her answer. You smiled back and the two of you quickly dissolved into a fit of giggles.
After the laughter had calmed down, you looked at her questioningly. "So, how does it work?"
Davina took a seat on the couch next to you and showed you the spell she had found.
"The basic binding is actually quite simple, it's the ingredients that are tricky," she explained, "luckily I have white oak ash, and the rest should be easy to find."
You nodded and listened intently as Davina read through the list of ingredients and their uses. She began by grinding the herbs and mixing them in a bowl, followed by the white oak ash.
Once the mixture was complete, Davina took a long silk rope that you had provided and dipped it in the bowl. She held the rope above the bowl, letting the excess liquid drip off as she chanted the incantation.
"Done," Davina announced, handing you the now-dry rope. "It will keep him bound and unable to break free. You can use it any way you'd like." She grinned, giving you a knowing look.
You couldn't believe how easy it had been, that you were so close to fulfilling a long-held fantasy of yours. "Thank you, Davina. You're the best," you said, pulling her into a hug.
She hugged you back, giggling as she pulled away. "One more thing, if you need to break the spell, just say 'confractus' and it will untie itself,"
You nodded, thanking her again before making your way home, the rope clutched tightly in your hand.
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It was the most expensive piece of clothing you had ever purchased. It wasn't even something you could wear outside your bedroom, but damn, did it make you feel sexy.
The lingerie was a red, sheer babydoll dress with black lace trim, and it was paired with a matching thong and stockings. You had never worn anything so revealing before, but you knew Elijah would like it, and that was all that mattered.
You wanted to get him all worked up, break down the gentleman facade, make him want you so badly that he would do whatever you asked. You had been waiting for the right moment to try the rope Davina had created, and you were certain that tonight was the night.
You pulled a robe over your outfit, concealing it until the right moment. Then you sat back on your bed and texted Elijah.
"Are you free tonight?"
A few moments later, your phone vibrated.
"For you, always."
You grinned and quickly replied, "Come over."
He sent a thumbs up, and you tossed your phone aside, your nerves kept you from sitting still, and you spent the next ten minutes pacing anxiously around the room. When you finally heard a knock on the door, you jumped, startled by the sound. You took a deep breath and walked to the front of your apartment.
When you opened the door, you were greeted by a sight that made your mouth water. Elijah was dressed casually, in just a t-shirt and jeans, it was a rare sight, and one that had you practically drooling.
You stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the sight of him, until he cleared his throat and asked, "Can I come in?"
"Yes, sorry. Come in." You stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter.
As soon as he crossed the threshold, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You let yourself melt into him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.
"What's this for?" You asked, teasingly tugging on his t-shirt, your hands roaming across his broad chest. "Has your dry-cleaner gone and quit on you?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "I figured we would just have a quiet night in. No need for the formalities."
You nodded, your hands traveling down to his waist. You felt his body tense slightly when your fingers began to dance along the bare skin under the hem of his shirt.
"Well, I have a surprise for you," you said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile.
He raised an eyebrow and gave you a curious look. "A surprise? Well, now I'm intrigued."
You laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to your bedroom. Once inside, you turned and faced him, taking a deep breath before you began to untie your robe. But then you stopped, looking at him with a naughty smirk.
"Take off your shirt," you ordered, your voice suddenly more confident.
He looked surprised by your words, but quickly obliged, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
"Hmmm," you smiled as your eyes traveled down his body, appreciating his toned abs and muscular arms, lingering on where a trail of dark hair disappeared into his jeans. "Now the pants."
You watched as his hands moved to unbutton his jeans. He kept his gaze locked on you, his dark eyes filled with lust. Once the pants were undone, he slowly pushed them down, revealing his black boxer briefs and the outline of his half-hard cock.
Your mouth watered at the sight, but you knew this was just the beginning. As much as you wanted to rip his clothes off and fuck him senseless, you had a plan, and you were determined to stick to it.
"Get on the bed," you commanded, gesturing to the large mattress behind him.
He climbed onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and watching you with curiosity. You untied the belt of your robe and let it fall open, revealing the sheer lingerie underneath.
Elijah's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as they traveled over your body.
"Do you like it?" You asked, teasingly running a finger along the edge of the lace trim.
He nodded, unable to speak, his cock already fully hard and straining against his underwear.
"Good, because I want you to do something for me," you said, your voice low and husky.
He nodded again, his gaze fixed on you.
"Take off your underwear and stroke your cock."
You watched him pull his boxer briefs down and wrap his large hand around his thick shaft, slowly stroking himself.
The sight of him pleasuring himself made your own arousal grow. You let your robe drop to the floor and climbed onto the bed, straddling his thighs.
He groaned, his eyes never leaving your body as he continued stroking his cock.
"Darling, you are a vision," he breathed, his voice deep and raspy with desire.
You felt heat pooling between your legs, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your lingerie.
You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues battling for dominance as you moaned into his mouth. His other hand came up to grab your ass, pulling you closer.
He was breathing heavily, his eyes dark with lust.
"Touch yourself," he growled, his lips brushing against yours.
"No," you smirked, "I have something else in mind."
You reached over and picked up the rope, which you had placed within reach on the nightstand. You watched his eyes widen, his hand stopping its movements as he stared at the rope.
"Do you want me to tie you up?" He grinned, his hand starting to stroke his cock again.
"I have something else in mind," you repeated.
Elijah raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"Hands up," you commanded, leaning back slightly to give him space.
He paused for a moment before lifting his arms above his head, resting them on the pillow behind him.
You brought the rope over his wrists, looping it around and tying them together. He chuckled, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing.
"I never took you for a bondage girl, darling."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," you replied, your tone playful as you pulled the rope tighter.
"Unfortunately I don't think this silk rope will hold me," he said, smirking as he tugged at the restraints.
You ignored him, continuing to tie his wrists to the headboard. Once you were satisfied with the knots, you sat back and admired your work, enjoying the way he looked helpless and at your mercy.
"Oh yeah?" You questioned, trailing a finger down his chest and abs, watching him shiver.
You slowly shrugged off one of the straps of your babydoll, letting the top slide down, exposing one breast.
His eyes fixated on your bare chest, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
"Mmmm," you hummed, rolling the hard bud between your fingers, teasing him. Then you did the same with the other strap, pushing the top down until your breasts were completely exposed.
Elijah let out a low moan, his cock twitching against his stomach.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his eyes burning with desire.
"Do you want to touch them daddy?" You cooed, running your hands up and down your breasts.
"Yes," he hissed, his hips bucking up involuntarily.
"Go ahead, tear the rope and touch me."
"Gladly."
He tugged at the rope, once, twice, three times. It didn't budge, much to his surprise.
"How the..." he started to say, looking up at the knotted rope.
"It's just a bit of magic," you smirked, your confidence growing as you watched him struggle.
You knew the ropes wouldn't hold him forever, but you planned on making the most of the time they did.
"Now, where were we?" You leaned forward, bringing your breasts close to his face.
He craned his neck up, trying to capture one of your nipples with his mouth, but you pulled away, denying him.
"Uh uh," you scolded, "You can look, but no touching."
You moved forward again, brushing your breast against his lips. He eagerly opened his mouth, trying to suck on the hardened peak, but you kept it just out of reach.
"I will be free soon enough, little one," he growled, his eyes locking onto yours, "and when I am, you're going to be punished for teasing me."
His words sent a thrill through you, but you remained calm, refusing to show him any signs of weakness.
"Oh yeah? What are you going to do, daddy?" You asked, taunting him as you rolled your hips, your wetness coating his skin.
He groaned at the sensation, his dark, lust-filled eyes watched as you began to touch his body, teasing and tormenting him.
You raked your nails down his chest and abs, earning a hiss of pleasure. You licked a hot stripe up his neck, biting his earlobe before moving to his lips. You kissed him roughly, your teeth grazing his lower lip, and he moaned, deepening the kiss.
Your hand went to his cock, stroking it slowly as he tried to buck his hips into your touch. You pulled back, smirking at him.
"You're not going to come until I say you can, understood?"
"Yes, my dear," he breathed, his eyes closing in pleasure as you tightened your grip on his shaft.
"Good boy."
You kissed him again, your tongues dancing together as you pumped his cock. He moaned into your mouth, his hips thrusting upwards, desperate for release.
You broke the kiss, looking down at him with a smirk. You couldn't wait any longer, you had to have him.
You positioned yourself over his throbbing member, lining him up with your entrance. You felt a flash of nervousness, not knowing how well you would be able to take him, but the excitement overrode the anxiety.
You lowered yourself down slowly, his thick cock stretching you open, filling you inch by inch.
"Fuck, Elijah," you moaned, burying your face into the crook of his neck, the feeling of him buried so deep, making your legs shake.
He hummed, his biceps straining against the rope as he struggled to break free. You placed your hands on his chest, using him as leverage as you began to ride him.
You knew right away that you were in trouble. Usually Elijah would take the lead, getting you all wet and worked up, he always took his time, and the pleasure he brought was slow and delicious.
But this, being on top and having all the control, was something you hadn't experienced before. It was intense, and you weren't sure if you could handle it.
Your thighs were burning as you lifted yourself up and down, but you were determined to keep going. Your eyes met his and the sight of his pupils blown wide with desire was enough encouragement for you to continue.
You rode him faster, your breath coming in short gasps. You were getting close, so close, but it was somehow all too much and not enough. You didn't think it would be this much work, and you could feel your energy waning.
It was a terrible feeling, finally getting what you wanted and being disappointed by it. You had been so confident, but now your thighs were burning and you were struggling to keep up a steady rhythm.
You looked at the ropes, seeing that they were still secure. There was no way you would be able to finish this yourself. You were going to need help.
"Eli," you whimpered, your nails digging into his chest.
"Yes, my dear," he groaned.
"I-I'm not sure... If I can keep going," you admitted, panting as you struggled to continue, a frustrated tear rolling down your cheek.
"Well, I'm still quite enjoying myself. You look absolutely exquisite like this," he teased, his eyes roaming your body.
"Elijah," you whined, "please. I-I can't."
He gave you a knowing smirk. "If you can't keep up, maybe I should be the one in charge."
"Please," you begged, your face flushing as the humiliation of being denied what you wanted so badly washed over you.
"You created this problem for yourself, little one," he reminded, wiping a tear away from your cheek, "but luckily, I'm in a giving mood."
You nodded, grateful that he was willing to help you, even if he did enjoy teasing you about it. You reached up and undid the knots, releasing his hands from their restraints.
As soon as his hands were free, Elijah gripped your hips, flipping you over so he was on top. You yelped in surprise, the sudden change in position leaving you breathless.
"You are such a good girl," he praised, his voice husky with desire. "So eager to please."
He kissed you hungrily, his hands exploring your body, his fingers tugging at the hem of your lingerie.
"And this," he murmured against your lips, "is very pretty. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to tear it."
Before you could protest, he ripped the babydoll in half, exposing your entire body to him. He tossed the torn fabric aside, his dark eyes roaming your naked form.
"But it was expensive," you half-protested, even though you were throbbing at the gesture of dominance and disregard.
He growled and pinched your nipple, earning a sharp gasp, then he soothed it with a swirl of his tongue, a wicked glint in his eyes.
"How much did that little magical rope cost you?"
You shuddered, already realizing this was the price you had to pay. You knew he would punish you for this stunt and it turned you on more.
"N-nothing, it was a favor from a friend," you muttered.
He didn't like the vagueness of your answer and took the rope and tied it around your wrists as he started kissing you again, your tongue clashing with his, while his large hand roamed your body, tweaking your nipples, earning a soft moan, and then traveling down south, running his fingertips along your skin, teasing and tickling you softly.
"You are going to do exactly as I say now, understood?" he mumbled against your skin.
"Y-Yes, Daddy," you whined, already desperately bucking against his hand.
Elijah released you, flipping you onto your stomach and dragging you to the head of the bed, tying the rope to the headboard so your arms are stretched high over your head. You were on your knees, and completely under his power.
You heard him rummaging around in his dresser and your heart began beating quickly from nervousness and excitement.
He kissed the back of your neck, the heat of his body warming you, and causing goosebumps to cover your skin. The smell of his cologne wrapped around you and you instinctively arched into his embrace.
"My sweet pet, are you ready to be punished?" he asked as he held one of his ties in front of your face, "Do you have a safe word?"
Your mind raced as he put the tie over your eyes. You quickly selected a word, just in case you needed it, though you sincerely doubted that would happen. Even when he was dominant like this, he always put your pleasure first, but you wanted him to believe you were scared.
"Coffee."
"Excellent," he replied as the smooth fabric was tied tightly around your head.
You tried to lean forward but couldn't move an inch with the rope around your wrists. This rope has successfully restrained Elijah, there was no way you were getting free until he cut you loose.
"I must say… that magic rope is quite a dangerous weapon, a threat to my family." He whispered against your ear, a hint of danger in his voice, sending an excited tingle through you.
You suddenly felt his strong hand wrap tightly around your neck. He wasn't squeezing yet but he was definitely letting you know who's in charge.
"You and I both know how I handle threats to my family," he said, pressing a kiss against your neck.
A moan escaped your lips and you could hear him chuckle. You were so wound up, you weren't sure how long you could take this.
"Stay quiet," Elijah commanded.
As if in punishment, he withdrew his hand from your throat, and you almost immediately missed the feeling of his warm hand against you. A sudden slap to your ass made your body jolt.
It burned from the force of it, his large, powerful palm practically covering your entire cheek. Every sensation was heightened by the tie around your eyes and you felt your whole body heating up, your blood rushing in anticipation of what was to come.
He hit you again, on the same cheek, harder than the last time. The sound of his hand hitting your flesh seemed to fill the room. Tears pooled in your covered eyes, the burning sensation making your body hum in pleasure, mixed with a bit of pain.
You weren't sure if you could handle one more of his heavy-handed swats. Your arms hurt from being pulled high above your head, and your wrists were already chafing.
You heard him reach into your night stand, searching for something that would bring you a different kind of pain. He found what he was looking for, trailing it down your spine. It was cold and smooth, and it made your stomach drop when you realized what it was.
"Eli- wait," you protested, none of this night was going to plan, but this? You had fantasized about it, sure, but this was-
Your mind went blank when he pushed it inside you, and without mercy, he switched it on. It buzzed to life and the sudden onslaught of the vibrations made your legs shake uncontrollably, your wrists burning slightly as you pulled on them.
It was like you were filled with electricity. And the noises you were making? They were a mix of moans and pleas for release, your body already nearing its limit.
His hand was gone, no more spanking and yet- the buzzing didn't stop, you had no release in sight and that's when you realized your mistake. He wasn't going to let you finish, the intention to drive you near your peak only to take you back down.
It was torture.
And you were absolutely loving it.
The minutes seem to tick by, maybe hours. Who knows anymore. All you're aware of is your trembling thighs, sweat glistening your back and your voice, cracking slightly as you scream and moan, writhing at the touch of his hand, then the hard buzzing once again.
"Hmm, we've never tried this setting before," he mused.
"Please Eli-"
He increased the intensity, a loud buzz echoing the room, and a series of vulgar curses escaping your lips, making him laugh.
The vibrator inside you was now pulsing at a rapid pace, the pleasure blinding, building, and there's nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable.
"Don't you dare come," he ordered.
"I can't-" you began, already starting to crumble under his control.
He gave the end of the vibrator a small twist and it hit a new spot that was pure euphoria. You tried to hold on, but it was impossible, your vision went white as an orgasm rocked through you, stealing your breath away, and all of the pent up tension that was burning in the depths of your core.
You let out an ecstasy-laced scream, every fiber in you igniting, every nerve firing at once as an immense surge of pleasure washed through your trembling body, shaking you to the core.
In that moment there was only bliss. The kind of sweet bliss that washes over your exhausted form, turning your limbs to rubber and melting your insides.
Your wrists ached, and you expected Elijah to untie you, but he had gone perfectly still behind you. Your heart began to race, suddenly filled with worry about whether he had become angered by your release. You honestly couldn't undergo another round of his erotic torture and live through it.
The silence and inaction was far worse than any punishment and you felt fear creep up your neck. Suddenly the vibrator turned back on at the max setting and his hand came down hard on your ass once again, leaving it stinging and burning, and tears brimming your lids, even as your body reacted with arousal.
You weren't even sure if your wrists could survive another round and it didn't help that the orgasm had made you sensitive to the point of numbness, but you can already feel your legs shaking, threatening to buckle underneath your exhausted form.
"Daddy, please I can't. I'll pass-" you started, the warning cut off with another slap.
You couldn't do it anymore, your wrists hurt more than the spanking. You remembered Davina had said that the rope could be undone with one word from you. Just as another spank was about to rain down, you rasped out 'confractus' and the rope fell off your wrists. You didn't waste a second, the moment you felt your hands free, you were tugging the blindfold down and pulling the vibrator out of you, tossing it across the bed and collapsing.
Elijah looked a bit shocked by your sudden escape, but that didn't stop him. With you no longer held in the bindings, he took it as another reason to keep punishing you and he grabbed your hips and pulled you underneath him.
His eyes were hard and wild, almost black, and his lips were curled up in a delicious smirk as he locked eyes with yours. The blindfold was held tight against your neck with one hand, keeping the pressure just enough to cause slight discomfort.
But then his eyes flicked to your wrists and the damage that had been done. The burns were deep, almost red and his demeanor changed instantly. His expression went soft, filled with remorse, but his dark, lust-filled eyes didn't change, still heated and primal, and needing release.
"I sometimes forget how delicate you are," he said softly, taking one of your wrists into his hand and giving a gentle kiss.
You flinched a little from the sting of it, watching his apology fill his eyes. You knew his guilt and self loathing was about to start, but before he could pull away, you reached up and grabbed the back of his neck and smashed your lips against his.
"I love when you get like this Eli," you admitted as the kiss broke, "Punishing me, fucking me, owning me. So don't start beating yourself up."
His response was an immediate hot sigh against your lips, relieved that he didn't hurt you.
"You do like the attention, do you?" he teased lightly, nuzzling your nose.
You nod, giving another kiss to the tip of his nose. "Always, but can you make this punishment worth it? It better end in a long, hot shower together or I might pass out," you whispered with a cheeky smile.
His shoulders shook from a silent laugh and his arms moved to either side of your face, caging you in with his warm presence, and you couldn't help the blush that spread through your cheeks as the emotion on his face flickered between the self-hating Elijah to the sweet one that you were in love with.
He ran his hand down your leg, then he lifted your thigh and held it against his hip and slowly, gently eased himself inside you. His lips were inches from and you couldn't look away. His eyes had softened now, and your heart melted at the devotion in them, only meant for you.
He slid his hand to the back of your neck as you clung to his shoulder, meeting him thrust for thrust as the pace gradually quickened. Your toes curled as waves of pleasure washed over you, but you held on this time, waiting for his permission, wanting to find release together.
His lips caressed your neck, his breathing ragged, and his movements became more erratic as his own control began to slip. The low, animalistic sounds rumbling in his chest nearly set you off, but somehow you managed to hang on.
Your mind is a fog, filled with everything Elijah; his smell, his warmth, the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breath, his low voice in your ear, his hips moving in a perfect tempo. It was overwhelming, dizzying, and intoxicating. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out, especially with the way he was whispering your name like a prayer.
Your legs began to tremble again, Elijah knew you were close, and you were being so good for him. He could see the effort your restraint required in the furrow of your brow and the desperation in your eyes, he saw it in the twitching of your fingers and he felt the small spams from the place the two of you are joined.
"You've been such a good girl, come for me sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at your ear.
You closed your eyes and threw your head back. It felt like the earth beneath you cracked open and molten pleasure coursed through your veins, pouring into every cell and nerve, bathing you in absolute bliss.
Elijah kept rocking, dragging out your orgasm and making his own release finally explode throughout every part of him. As the both of you shook from pleasure, he didn't stop kissing you, kissing your cheeks, neck, and nose as the both of you tried to calm down. You clung to his biceps, relishing his touch, trying to calm down your raging heartbeat.
He released you and flipped onto his back, tugging you along, and making sure that you stayed close. You cuddled into his side, giving his chest small, gentle kisses.
He took your wrist, seeing the faint redness where the rope had burned your skin and gave it another tender kiss.
"Don't tell Klaus about the rope, he would not be very pleased to know you and Davina are making weapons behind his back, love."
You snorted and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, "how did you know it was Davina?"
He chuckled and rested his chin on the top of your head.
"Call it an educated guess," he teased and his hand playfully smacked your butt.
You both gave out a little chuckle before falling back into a comfortable silence. Your body had officially given out on you and exhaustion had taken over your form.
Elijah lifted you up out of bed and brought you to the shower, making sure that you were clean of any sticky sweat or traces of what had gone down moments ago. He wrapped his strong arms around you once you were dressed and both cleaned, bringing the covers around both of your bodies before kissing your forehead, and drifting off to sleep, holding you possessively against him.
This night didn't go as you planned, but you did not regret a thing.
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
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I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡ (It may be the hearts causing the issue but I don't want that to be true, so I am in denial)
Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡
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ghouljams · 9 months
Note
Yes- hi- hello, tis I, the moth that will ram into your window :3
Anyway
My brainrot for Fae!Price is so hhhhhgggnnnn and I've backed myself into a corner by crafting the idea of Witch Darling trying to fluster Price in return for all the times he's done so to her. Like- they're just doing their daily thing and Price pulls out a cigar but Witch just snaps her fingers and lights it for him and he's like "Why'd you do that?" And Witch immediately follows up nonchalantly "Pretty boys shouldn't have to light their own cigars."
And Price is fucking floored
Like- he's had experience with people flirting with him, especially debtors trying to get a better deal when talking to him, but when it's coming from Witch?
GOD DAYUM
Okay back to lurking for me, take care of yourself and drink water if you haven't already. I will find a way I to your house and bring you water if you don't <3
Hi, hi, hello! I am taking care of myself! Had a good birthday and didn't write anything which was very weird but very nice to have a break. I return with Witch and Price because I desperately miss writing for them.
I've had this idea of Witch showing up at the 141's usual bar and causing trouble and this is the perfect ask for it. Here's Witch being well... far too pretty for her own good, and Price being a terribly weak man for her. Witch's dress is based on one from 1964's "What a Way To Go" which has some of the most spectacular textile artistry I've ever seen.
Price's knuckles drag up your back as you lean against the bar to order a drink. You're not used to this many eyes on you, but it's worth it for the single pair of cool blues that study you like they've never seen you before. His fingers hook in the double line of pearls that trail down your spine to your skirt, thumb counting over every one before his fingers reach the sleek silk of your dress.
"Can I buy you a drink?" You ask him, Price's eyes follow his hand where it hovers over your bare skin. More than you think he's ever seen of you. You like throwing him off, it's rather fun seeing him at a loss for words.
"Fuck sweetheart, buy the whole bar for all I care," he presses his hand against you, spreads his fingers wide against the small of your back. Each one a threatening display of his adoration. "What're you doing here?" He can't ignore the stares anymore than you can. A witch in a fae bar, your back exposed, vulnerabilities on display, you can feel the hunger that rolls through the room. You're not as easy a target as they'd all like to think.
"Good looking guys like you shouldn't buy their own drinks, so here I am."
"Here you are," Price breathes, you like the heat in his eyes. It's hard to match him, you aren't exactly flirty. Not by nature at least, and you don't have his easy self assurance. You're confident in yourself, but not quite in the same interpersonal sense. Still, if anything was going to set you up for success it would be Price. His eyes, his touch, there's something to having his attention so fully focused on you. A room full of people and yet you're the only two in it that can touch each other.
You signal the bartender for two of whatever Price drinks, watching him pull a cigar from his pocket in your periphery. You snap your fingers to conjure a flame and hold your hand out to him. The little red flame flickering on your pointer finger dances happily as he takes your hand and holds it to his cigar. You try not to be too flustered when he moves his cigar to extinguish your flame on his tongue. The slick muscle curling around your finger, making a heat coil in your stomach. He settles your hand on his shoulder, forces you to turn on your stool to watch him press his lips to the inside of your arm.
"You almost make me wanna wear a suit," he sounds, hm, it's an admission, but not one that lines up with his actual words. Not a lie, never a lie, a rephrasing of a truth. He almost makes you want to ask.
"You'd look good in a suit," is all you can think to say.
"You look good in white," he responds, the hand on your back tugs you off your seat. You do your best to avoid stepping on his toes as he pulls you to stand, turns your back against the bar, and boxes you in. A physical barrier between you and the open room, Price's strong arms rest on either side of you, his fingers tapping the bar as you stare up at him. You're supposed to be making him flustered. You really have to up your game.
You slide your hand from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, the slight give of his skin and the tension your touch brings to him. There's a tightness in his jaw when you look up at him, a flinty edge to his eyes as he watches the bartender.
"What're you thinking about pretty boy?" You ask. He blinks, surprised, and looks at you. His eyes trace over you, gaze sliding like magma over your form. You try to keep your breaths even, try not to be affected by him. When he looks at you like that you can't help wanting more of him.
Your fingers slide down his chest to hook in his belt loops, and Price draws a shuddering breath. He cannot talk to you like this. Whatever has gotten into you is bad for his health. Whatever has gotten onto you as well. He takes a long drag of his cigar, tries to keep his eyes off the cling of silk against your chest. Made much more difficult when his smoke takes it upon itself to fall over you, slide down the soft curves of your body so he can feel the shape of you.
What's he thinking about? You, always you. In every position, you.
The bartender sets two whiskey glasses between his hands, behind you. Their eyes rest too long on your exposed shoulders. Price gives them a warning growl, enjoys the way it rips from his throat, the way your fingers tug ever so slightly in response. You tip your head back to see what he's growling at and- God you are just- a tease, that's what you are. The way your neck stretches for him, the way your lips part, your back arches. He tips your head forward again, keeps your pretty little self contained and off the bar.
"Are both of these for me?" He rasps, God he hopes so, could use all the liquor he can get.
"One's mine." Are you keeping your voice low like that because you want to drive him mad? It's working.
"You even like whiskey?" He's never seen you drink, but he would bet you're preferential to something sweeter.
"I can drink it, if that's what you're asking," you twist to grab your glass, and quickly tip its contents into his. Price takes another long drag of his cigar watching you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip. You lower it with a sigh, your lipstick staining the edge. You hold the glass out to him, or up for him, as he exhales.
Oh you are sweet the way you breathe in his smoke.
Price takes the glass from your fingers and keeps his eyes on yours as he takes a drink. He savors the way you watch him, how focused you are even with your eyes lidded. He hands the glass back, and watches you swallow a pull of the amber liquor as he smokes. When you lower the cup from your lips he tips your head back with a gentle finger under your chin, leaning down to hover his mouth over yours and breathe. He feels you pull his smoke into your lungs, feels where it escapes your lips to curl over your cheeks, your jaw, soft magic to make your head spin. His favorite kind.
"You're awfully forward tonight little Witch," he hums, feeling you tilt your head, just barely brush his lips with your own.
"Trying to give you a taste of your own medicine," your honesty always hits him between the ribs, Price smiles, "is it working?"
"Perfectly," he feels your tongue flick against his lip, catching a last hint of whiskey, and his hand wraps around your neck. God what you do to him. "The things I would do for you," he breathes, you're testing his resolve. Lucky he hasn't spun you around and pressed you against this bar. It wouldn't be the first time someone had gotten what they deserved in here.
"Don't you mean to me?" You smile, he can feel the curve of your smile, so tantalizingly close.
"No," he takes a half step closer, feels you press yourself top to toe against him, "I mean on my knees, with my tongue, with my fingers, with my cock, with whatever you asked for. For. You."
You shudder against him so nicely. A valiant effort, he thinks, but how could you ever think you could beat him at his own game?
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the-travelling-witch · 8 months
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𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄
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summary: just some short and sweet cuddling headcanons
pairings: mammon :: belphie :: barbatos :: dantalion :: valefar (my ocs) x gn! reader
warnings: only me playing favourites again ♡ + one teeny tiny allusion to lesson 16
obey me! masterlist || similar post: kiss me more
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𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍
After your first week in the Devildom, Mammon’s understanding of personal space is as follows: His personal space is his and your personal space is also his. The rest of the brothers love to poke fun at him for it but he’s glued to your side now, throwing an arm around your shoulder or using your head as an armrest whenever he sees fit.
So it should come as no surprise that, once he basically moves into your room after making a pact with you, he’s going to cuddle up to you every chance he gets. In his defence, this is most likely unintentional, seeing as Mammon nearly flings himself out of bed at the realisation that you had been leaning on his shoulder for a good chunk of the movie you were watching, sending snacks flying everywhere.
Once your relationship becomes more settled and the white-haired demon owns up to his true feelings more, however, his reactions to cuddling are less dramatic. Yeah, you’ll still have to be the one who asks and deal with his aloof reaction but that’s okay when he can’t look you into eyes as he hides his face behind his hand and makes no fuss when you drag him to bed. Soon thereafter, it’s basically like he’s trying to melt into you though, as much of him touching as much of you as is humanly and demon possible. He’s also a living furnace, which is great in a realm where the sun doesn’t shine.
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇��𝐄
Yeah, good luck ever getting up again, I hope you had no plans for the rest of the day or the following ones, for that matter. As the king of ‘five more minutes’, Belphie is going to keep you in bed with him way longer than you anticipated, courtesy of the iron grip he has on you even while asleep. Sure he told you it’ll only be a short nap but honestly, you should know better by now.
On the plus side (was the beginning even a downside?), you can lay down in whatever position you want to because Belphie will just contort himself around you, making you question whether he actually has bones. If he cuts off your airflow again, it’s because he plopped his entire weight down on you just to snuggle up to your chest like an overgrown cat.
You made the mistake once to card your fingers through his hair and it lulled him to sleep so fast he now practically demands you do it every time. Whether it’s pouting at you or just taking your hand and putting it on his head, he’ll make it known you’re neglecting your poor demon if you don’t. Still, cuddling with Belphie guarantees you the best sleep possible; even if you wake up super disoriented, not knowing which year it is, at least you’re well-rested (Insomnia? We don’t know her).
𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒
Congrats! You managed to pry Barbatos away from babysitting— I mean serving Diavolo! Your reward is seeing the busy demon relax for once in his long life.
The air is infused with the soothing fragrance of tea leaves as your cups happily steam on the bedside or coffee table, depending on where you choose to snuggle up, the tea never going cold thanks to Barbatos’s magic.
Another rare thing to see -or rather to feel- are his bare fingers trailing over your sides, dipping under your clothes to trace random shapes onto your skin as you rest against his chest. Every now and then, he’ll bow his head down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head, not hiding how his lips curl into a fond smile. While he loves to take care of you and draws energy from it, if you run your hands through his hair and lightly massage his scalp, his usual composure will give way to a demon who’s putty in your hands.
𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍
This man only has the best silk sheets and will coax you into sleeping over more often than not. Sure, he could visit the House of Lamentation but why would he set himself up to be interrupted by those nosy brothers (no offence). Besides, you’re always running around appeasing their whims, you should take a break and let him spoil you.
Cuddling really is just a part of an entire routine of destressing for him. From sharing a meal to washing the dirt of the day away with a shower or bath to changing into soft, top-quality loungewear or pyjamas and snuggling up on the couch or bed, this demon will make sure you’re not lacking anything. The lights in his house seem to always dim to the right brightness and colour and there’s calming music playing from somewhere.
But, of course, cuddling doesn’t have to be an orchestrated act every time. If you ask him to hold you he will gladly do so, cooing at you or talking about his day if you want him to. Despite taking the shape of a peacock, Talion’s voice is actually incredibly soothing and he chuckles quietly whenever he lulls you to sleep with it. He’ll even fan out his tail feathers over you if it makes you happy, even if it means rustling them in the process. Smoothing them out again is well worth it for the way you run your fingers over them as you study their colours in awe, both your silent and verbal praise making him preen with pride.
𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑
Valefar wants to be the big spoon, not only because he feels like he can protect you this way but also because this way you wouldn’t notice his heated cheeks. It’s not like he’s insecure to the point where he thinks you holding him would undermine his masculinity, he just needs to hold you close in peace after a stressful night at the casino.
But it’s all good, his defined muscles make for a comfy pillow and if you fall asleep watching TV, he can easily pick you up and carry you to bed without disturbing you. Whenever you cuddle, he also always lowers his voice to a husky murmur, the vibrations of which will travel from his chest to your skin.
In the tranquil moments where it’s just you and him, Val loses all the brashness he’s feared for, his calloused hands hovering over your form as if he’s scared he could hurt or taint you. Just take them in yours and settle them on your hips, squeezing them encouragingly to tell him ‘It’s okay’ and he’s falling for you all over again, especially if you pair it with a chaste kiss on his cheek. As a greed demon, however, once he’s had a taste of your affection, he will take everything he can get, now coming up to you out of the blue, hugging you from behind whenever he sees fit.
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