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harry-bowie-mercury · 1 year ago

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haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fifteen

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: Will I remain posting regularly? That remains to be seen by everyone, myself included....Because every single time I say something, I end up accidentally not posting for weeks. Anyways, enjoy!

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word count: 2.7k

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right.

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

“Where are you going?”

A full day had passed since y/n found the picture in the elevator, and she half-expected Bruce’s voice to be a dream when she turned around. She hadn’t slept much, except for a brief few hours where her body literally had shut down and forced her into unconsciousness. Fear was her constant companion, but now, when she turned to see Bruce standing behind her with his arms crossed, anger cut through the fog of fear like a spear of flame.

She mirrored his stance and crossed her own arms. “I’m going to let it slide since we’re all stressed, but try to boss me around again and see what happens.”

Both of their jaws were clenched tightly shut.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. She could practically hear the words come out of his mouth, That’s not an answer.

“I asked Gordon to come up,” she finally said, caving, though the anger still simmered below the surface. The nerve that Bruce Wayne had to barely be home, to barely care about her, and still try to boss her around all the same. She was this close to punching him in the face or pushing him down the stairs. Or maybe she would pour ice cubes in his bed next time he was asleep. “And if you’re going to bother me every single time I’m next to the fucking elevator, think again.”

Bruce relaxed marginally, completely ignoring her barbed comment–which was probably for the best. She had no energy left to really fight, anyways.

Most of that energy had gone towards a preliminary article she had just submitted about the Gallo family. She hadn’t released any details about her involvement with them, merely reporting the fact that they were trying to make a move on Gotham.

She had debated doing the article at all. Was it better to pretend like nothing was happening? Was it better to keep her head down and wait for it to resolve itself, whether because of Gordon and the Batman or through the Gallos finally getting to her?

But then she realized that the people of Gotham deserved the truth, or at least as much of it she could get away with. She was already a target, but she didn’t need everyone else knowing that.

So she had simply decided to send an article to print that Gotham was on the brink of another mob takeover, just like all of the business with Falcone and Maroni and everyone else who had corrupted their city.

If only half of the city shared her views, y/n knew that they wouldn’t be happy with someone else trying to worm their way into their city. Gotham might be a shithole, but it was their shithole.

The moment she had hit send, it had hit her.

She didn’t want to be a sitting duck. She wanted to do something about it. She wanted those bastards gone. She wanted the work Bella Real and the Batman and cops like Gordon had done in the last year to stick–or at least have the chance of doing so.

She had called Gordon, told him she wanted to talk over some things, that she needed company anyways.

And now there she was, staring down the man who had broken her heart, waiting on Gordon to arrive on the elevator behind her.

“Gordon and I are going to have a private conversation,” she said pointedly as the elevator doors slid open behind her.

“Y/n,” Gordon said in greeting, but she still didn’t turn around. She and Bruce were still in the middle of their standoff. “Mr. Wayne. Good to see you again, at least under more…normal circumstances than last time.”

She raised an eyebrow at Bruce. She could tell he wanted to argue, wanted to stick around and stick his nose even further into her business. But after a long silence, he inclined his head and said, “Detective,” before turning and disappearing back the way he had come.

Once Bruce was safely out of earshot, she gave Gordon her full attention and said what had been on her mind the past couple of hours. Or, if she was being completely honest, the past several days.

“I want you to use me as bait, and I don’t want you to argue about it. I want you to help me actually figure out how to get rid of these motherfuckers.” She crossed her arms again for good measure.

Gordon sighed, long and loud. She expected an argument or a lecture or a combination of the two. But instead, all he said was, “We better bring our other friend into this discussion.”

–

“Absolutely not,” was the very first thing the Batman said when she laid out her plan.

“Yeah, well, as I like to point out to certain other people in my life, you’re not the boss of me. I’m going to do something stupid with or without your help, because I am fucking sick of this. Alright? I can’t live like this.” She shivered as a particularly brutal gust of wind cut through her.

They were on top of the signal tower. She and Gordon had decided together that it was easier to smuggle her out than it would be to smuggle Batman in. Besides, she didn’t want those two parts of her life mixing. God forbid Bruce find out what she was up to. She was arguing with him enough already.

Not to mention the fact that she didn’t want to disappoint Alfred, or cause him any more stress than she already had.

The smuggling had taken a willing female detective–a nice woman in her late thirties name Lori Ayers–trading places with y/n. They were relatively the same height and build luckily enough, and Detective Ayers was already assigned to the security on Wayne Tower. An outfit switch, a fake detective badge, and lots of praying later, and there they were. Y/n had asked Gordon and Ayers if she could have a gun, but both of them had practically shouted no in her face.

Gordon held up his hands, ever the peacekeeper. “Listen, man, I’m not saying we should put her in any unnecessary danger, but–”

“The whole idea is unnecessary danger!” The Batman cut in. His voice echoed in the darkness of the night around them.

Gordon continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “–but all I’m saying is that we aren’t any closer to catching these guys. None of us are. So if we can do something we know will draw them out…why not do it?” Gordon gave her a wry look. “And, like she said, it’s probably better to have us for backup before she does anything stupid on her own.”

Y/n gave Batman a triumphant look as if to say See? I’m right.

She studied him while he worked his jaw in annoyance. Was he sick of looking out for her? Because she was certainly sick of needing to be looked out for. She wanted to end it.

“Fine,” he said, the word a growl he spat out. She tried to resist pumping her fist in the air, she really did. He gave her a Look with a capital L that had her lowering it immediately. “But let me just–let me follow this last lead, alright? If it doesn’t pan out, we’ll make a plan. Give me tonight before you do anything stupid.”

She nodded eagerly. “Great, fine. I needed to get out of the house anyway.” Gordon was also giving her a Look. “What?” she said a bit defensively.

“You’re awfully upbeat for someone who wants to offer herself up for bait to the mob.” He raised one dark eyebrow above the frames of his glasses.

She shrugged. “Well, I have cabin fever, so this helped my mood immensely. Plus, the end is in sight. It’s about to be over, one way or another.”

Later, when she thought back to that moment, she would wonder if she had jinxed it. Or maybe she was simply jinxed all along, one thing leading to another, leading to its inevitable end. Leading to the only possible way it could play out. Her luck, ever since stepping foot back in Gotham–and even before then, ever since Alfred had knocked on her apartment door–had been nonexistent.

“One last lead,” Batman repeated, holding her gaze steadily for once. Something ran through her like an electric current at that look. Like he was trying to tell her something.

“One last lead,” she said, crossing her heart for good measure. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Gordon chuckled like he didn’t quite believe her. “Alright, let’s get back.”

“I’ll follow you,” Batman said, interrupting her thoughts of how she was going to get Gordon to sneak her past Bruce and Alfred both. She hadn’t told either of them she was leaving, and she didn’t want to think about what they would say to her if they found out. It would only make her life that much harder.

Her ride back with Gordon was mostly quiet.

“Where did you get this fake badge anyways?” she asked when Wayne Tower’s doors finally came into view. She toyed with it, noting all the ways it looked like the real deal. Maybe she could hold onto it…just in case.

“Confiscated it from a kid caught forging all kinds of stuff, including badges she used to get classified materials.”

She. Interesting. Sounded like somebody y/n would like to hang out with.

She didn’t say any of that out loud, however. All she did was hum and put the badge back on her belt.

“And no, I won’t give you her name,” Gordon said. Their eyes met and they both laughed in tandem.

“Fine, fine. I might be able to find it on my own anyway.” She winked.

They parked in an alley where Gordon or the other detectives on stakeout duty usually parked. As they stepped out into the cold air, Gordon’s phone rang.

“Just a second,” he said, stepping further towards the mouth of the alley. “I have to take this. Don’t move.” He pointed at threatening finger at her. She held up both hands in surrender.

He needn’t have worried–the sound of an approaching motorcycle reached her ears as Batman pulled into the alley behind them. The noise reverberated off of the building walls for a moment before abruptly shutting off. Gordon locked eyes with him, inclined his head, and then answered the phone while striding towards the street ahead.

“So,” she said casually to Batman as he stood broodily in the shadows. “Think I could have been a detective in another life?” She struck a little pose in her smart, borrowed business suit and trench coat, imagining the fake badge glinting in the low light.

Batman made a noise that could have been a scoff or a laugh. “Sure, except you would have been fired for repeatedly breaking the rules. And laws.”

She laughed delightedly. “You’re probably right.” She definitely had chosen the only profession that suited her nosiness and penchant for getting into trouble, something Bruce had pointed out years ago.

“I’m definitely right.”

They were closer together than she expected, the toes of their shoes almost touching. She wasn’t sure how that had happened. It was if they had both been drawn in by the other’s gravity, invisible and inevitable. He stared down at her for a moment before, of course, turning his face away.

“There you go again,” she murmured as she memorized the line of his jaw. “Scared to look me in the eyes.” She reached out and poked his stubbled cheek gently. He froze, but didn’t make a move to step away.

“I’m scared for you,” he said in an equally soft voice that sent shivers over her skin. “I don’t want you to have to offer yourself up. I don’t like thinking that I might not be able to keep you safe.”

Y/n felt each of his words sink into her like rocks in a deep lake, sinking down and down and down until they settled at the bottom, heavy in her stomach. She was staring up at him now, their breath mingling, and he was finally, finally looking back.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Instead, she did the next best thing.

She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him.

He went so still she immediately knew she had overstepped–and had overstepped badly. She quickly pulled away, face on fire, eyes straining to find anything to look at other than the rejection in his eyes. Stupid, that was so stupid. Just because he wanted her safe didn’t mean that he wanted her to kiss him.

But before she got too far, his gloved hand caught her arm and tugged her closer. And then he was kissing her.

She inhaled deeply, her stomach doing somersaults in a way it had never done before. She was flying above Wayne Tower yet still somehow firmly rooted to the ground. It was like she could finally breathe again and yet somehow she was gasping for breath. His lips were gentle. One of his hands cupped her elbow while the other splayed across her upper back. She wished he had his gloves off, like that moment in another alley on another night. She wanted to feel his skin against hers.

Then he was gone, a full step away.

She couldn’t help it–her fingers traced her lips in a daze.

They were staring at each other, both breathing slightly heavier than they had been before.

“Alright, let’s go,” Gordon called from behind her somewhere. She couldn’t bring it within herself to care if he had seen or not. Her and the Batman were still staring at each other, in their own world, a seismic shift between them.

“Goodnight,” she said, her voice low and raspy with want.

“Be safe,” was all the Batman said as he watched her go.

Gordon didn’t look at her like he had just seen them kissing, but she felt as if it were written all over her face.

“Crime never sleeps,” he said to her as they walked the short distance to the doors. His head was constantly swiveling, searching for danger, and she knew a certain vigilante was watching from the shadows as well.

Her entire body was electric, every nerve ending on fire, heat settling in her face and chest and lower, too.

For once, she wasn’t wondering about who the Batman was. Her mind had been rendered totally blank by one kiss. She wasn’t even thinking about how he wasn’t Bruce Wayne, like every other kiss of her life.

Instead it simply felt…right.

She blinked and they were somehow inside.

“Blake, can you escort Detective Ayers upstairs? I have to go to a crime scene.” Gordon gave Blake a long, searching look. Y/n knew that the moment the security guard looked up, he would recognize her.

Sure enough, he did. His face did something complicated before he realized what Gordon said and stammered out, “S-sure. This way, Detective, um, Ayers.” He hit something on the computer keyboard, scrambling, having to hit whatever button it was a second time.

“See you later,” Gordon said to her, the words full of meaning.

She turned towards him and nodded. “Goodnight.”

It felt stupid, pretending to be someone else in the lobby of her home, but they still didn’t know who had breached security two nights earlier. She knew it was better to be safe than sorry, but Blake knew who she was. What was to stop whoever worked for the Gallos from recognizing her as well? She imagined their pub, Maverick’s, covered in hundreds of stalkery photos of her.

Gordon waved over his shoulder as she and Blake stepped into the elevator. As soon as the doors slid closed, y/n relaxed a bit. Everything was almost over.

And she had kissed the Batman.

A smile grew on her face before she could stop it.

When she glanced up, Blake was watching her.

His upper lip and his hairline were beaded with sweat and he was much paler than normal.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wondering if maybe he was sick. Something in her gut shivered with warning.

“I’m so sorry–” he said, the words choked. “I’m so sorry. They have my sister.”

That’s when she saw the glint of a needle in his hand.

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss @spiritdetectivel @i-have-no-life-charlie @ilovemybabes @curseyouperrytheplatypus @lightsinmycity @yondiii @spideybv28 @fictionalmansl4t @just-pure-trash @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @thiswildandpreciouslife

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harry-bowie-mercury · 1 year ago

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Vote Blue for women's rights.

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harry-bowie-mercury · 2 years ago

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No bc why does looking at fan art make me so self conscious… I always feel like I can never be a female main character because they’re all too gorgeous.

#fanart #acotar #tog #hobab #hofas #Sarah j Maas

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harry-bowie-mercury · 2 years ago

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Eek I’m so excited!!!

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter fourteen

a/n: I'm back to posting semi-regularly, yay! Not sure when the next chapter will be finished because of the holidays but hopefully it'll be within the next week or so! This one is a little on the shorter side, but the next several will be longer I think! (Since I haven't actually written them--but I have plans and they're lengthy.)

Series Masterlist

word count: 2k

“Oh man,” Martinez groaned as his eyes flicked from Alfred, to her, to the picture, and back again. He gulped audibly. Next to him, Blake the security guard was white as a sheet. “Gordon’s gonna kill me.”

“Gordon’s gonna kill me,” Martinez said for the twentieth time as y/n poured him a cup of coffee to replace the one that was currently still on the foyer floor. “I was supposed to be the one paying attention. I was the one he trusted.” Which, he informed her after maybe the fourth “Gordon’s gonna kill me,” that meant he was Gordon’s most trusted on her security team. He was one who was secretly supposed to make sure no one else was compromised.

“Martinez,” y/n said for the nineteenth time. “No he isn’t. You were doing your job. You already said you didn’t leave, or fall asleep, or take a call. In fact, you did your job so well you ignored my offer of coffee.” She held out the new mug.

Martinez was still nervously mangling the hat of his uniform. He was completely ignoring her reassurances. He went still after a second, then turned eyes that were twice as frightened to her. “Man, Mr. Wayne’s gonna be so mad too, isn’t he? This is his house.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “I’ll handle Bruce. And besides–Alfred’s more in charge than he is, and he already agreed it wasn’t your fault.” Alfred had met Gordon downstairs a few minutes earlier. The elevator and entire lobby had been turned into a crime scene. Martinez and y/n were waiting to give their statements.

Easing Martinez’s fears was much easier than facing her own. It was easy to focus on him and nothing else. Because in the short half hour since she’d first found the picture, each bit of new information was worse than the last. No one on the security detail had been harmed, bribed, or had even moved. The security cameras had been turned off for only ten minutes. Which all meant that someone had enough access to Wayne Tower and its security to get past everything extra that had been set up.

They wanted her to know that they could get to her.

And they were drawing it out. Instead of grabbing her, they were making her wait. Making her scared.

Y/n focused again on the nervous cop in front of her, who was still bemoaning the fact that everyone was going to be mad at him.

“If you don’t stop, I’m going to be mad at you,” she snapped. There was a headache blooming between her eyes.

Martinez quieted, looking like a kicked puppy with a mustache. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, y/n. If I can make it up to you at all–”

“Just drink your coffee, okay? No one blames you.” Y/n took a sip of her coffee. Her hands were still shaking, and some of the liquid spilled over as she set the cup back down. Damn, she was wasting a lot of coffee in one night.

She startled when a warm hand landed atop hers. She looked up and met Martinez’s soft gaze. He didn’t say anything else, but his presence was enough to steady her.

“I’m so glad they didn’t shoot you,” she said after a moment.

They shared a grin. “Hell, me too.”

An awareness prickled along y/n’s spine.

She looked up, and there was Bruce.

His hair was stuck to his forehead and his shirt was on inside out. Her stomach swooped. There really only seemed to be one possibility from those two clues, plus the fact that he hadn’t been home.

Jealousy and shame spread like hot oil through her stomach.

Bruce looked…angry. His eyes were twin blue flames where they stayed locked on Martinez’s hand atop hers.

Martinez scrambled to his feet as if the king of fucking England had just walked in. More coffee spilled as he bumped the table. Y/n half expected him to bow for Bruce. She rolled her eyes.

“Mr. Wayne! I’m so sorry, I swear I was paying attention, I–”

Bruce’s eyes went cold. “And you are?”

“Officer Martinez, we actually met back–”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed. It was her turn to jump to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she said to Bruce.

Martinez flinched. Bruce calmly glanced her way then went back to glaring at Martinez.

“When the security of my home has been compromised due to incompetence–” Bruce said, still calm despite the obvious fury in his eyes.

Y/n cut him off. “Oh shut up. Stop talking to him like that. It wasn’t his fault!”

Bruce’s eyes flashed. “Well, it was certainly someone’s.”

“Maybe it was yours, then.” The words rose within her on a tide of anger. God, her life had been threatened again, and he had the nerve to come home from fucking his girlfriend and act like a dick to her friend? “I mean, you’ve been letting the rest of the tower go to shit for years, makes sense that maybe security is a little lax. Especially if you don’t even give enough of a shit to ever be here.”

They were almost toe to toe now, both breathing heavily. From the corner of her eye, she saw Martinez freeze in place, mouth open in shock.

“I give too much of a shit, y/n. If your little boyfriend hadn’t been distracted–”

Oh, y/n thought. Bruce thought Martinez was her boyfriend. And okay, maybe it looked like that, but Martinez actually had a great girlfriend who was in a group chat with them where they all sent memes to each other. She and Martinez wanted to set up a double date with her cousin and y/n.

The realization made the anger ebb, but then she was pissed off all over again.

“What gives you the right to act like this?” she spat at Bruce. He was so much taller than her that her neck was starting to ache from glaring up at him. “After what you did, after what you said, you’re acting like you have any right to one, be involved in my personal life at all or two, be jealous!”

Bruce flinched. Just like the first time it had happened two days ago, it didn’t feel as good as she thought it would.

“Um,” Martinez said in the echoing silence. “We’re actually just friends and I–I’m going to go give my statement now?”

Y/n barely noticed him leaving.

She was so sick of being so afraid, so heartbroken, so…everything.

“You’re going to apologize to him whether he’s just my friend or not,” she said, poking Bruce in the chest. He winced and tried to mask it by looking away. “I already told you, Bruce. I lost you three years ago. Stop acting like that didn’t fucking happen, because it did.”

Bruce’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. Now he wasn’t looking her in the eye at all. “I didn’t mean–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, yes you did.” But the words were bereft of the anger that had been present only moments before. She took a deep breath and a step backwards. “I’m just–sick of pretending things are the same, okay? I know you want to go all protective-best-friend thinking Martinez is my boyfriend or that he put me in danger but–I can’t just–Things aren’t–” Suddenly words were failing her. “It’s just not the same, okay?”

She watched as Bruce softened, too. “Y/n, I’m sorry, I–”

“Why did Martinez just run out of here like a bomb went off?” Gordon’s voice cut across whatever Bruce had been about to say.

“Mommy and Daddy were fighting,” y/n said drily, her defense mechanism of humor kicking in. Bruce made a choking noise. “Find anything useful? Like maybe Frank Gallo?”

She could almost hear Gordon’s teeth grinding from across the room. “No.”

“Bruce,” Alfred said from behind Gordon. “We have some things to discuss.”

Bruce gave her one last glance before following Alfred out.

Alone with Gordon now, y/n sank into her chair with a long sigh. She stared at the little coffee spills as if they had personally offended her. “If I spill any more coffee tonight I might kill someone.”

“Now that would be a sight. Looked like you were about to do Mr. Wayne in already.” Gordon chuckled and took the seat across from her. He flipped open a small notebook.

“I’m still not opposed to smothering him in his sleep,” she muttered. “Arrest me if you have to.”

“How about I get your statement instead?”

It didn’t take long. She was basically a pro at giving statements to the police at this point. When she was done, she said, “I’m so…tired of giving statements to the police.”

Gordon regarded her with sharp eyes that didn’t miss anything. “We’re doing everything we can, y/n,” he said softly.

“I know, I know. It’s just–getting shot at was scary and all, but this is my home.” Her voice cracked. She ducked her head and fiddled with her coffee mug so Gordon wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “They’re telling me they can get to me here, too. Where I’m supposed to be safe.”

“I understand completely. We’ll get him. We’ll get them. I have a feeling he might show up on our doorstep sooner rather than later, with something bat-shaped pinned to him and a couple of black eyes and broken bones.” Gordon smirked. Y/n frowned as she realized she hadn’t seen Batman at all. Had he been downstairs? Maybe Bruce hadn’t wanted him to come upstairs. Her frown deepened. “Now, you’re going to have to help me convince Officer Martinez not to sleep in the elevator tonight. Or right outside your door. He’s pretty upset.”

“I’m surprised he still wants to hang around, considering how much of a dick Bruce was,” y/n said under her breath. “But I’ll do my best.”

Martinez took a lot of convincing, but eventually relented and went home to his girlfriend. He made y/n put a chair under her bedroom door handle first, though.

Bruce hadn’t reappeared by the time y/n went to bed.

She laid down, the words of their argument–or whatever the hell that had been–replaying on a loop. Being around him made her feelings go haywire. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry at him. The heartbreak of three years ago had taken over her life and she had to admit that the anger felt…almost good. Cathartic. But it also made her feel out of control. She didn’t feel like herself. Being mad at Bruce went against years of instincts. She was used to defending him, or him defending her, to being on the same team together.

She was still wide awake as dawn broke over the sky hours later.

Another thought kept turning over and over in her mind. Frank Gallo–or someone he had hired–had gotten into her home. Her very, very secure home.

She had been afraid before, but it was nothing like this. Her safe haven had been…sullied. They knew who she was, where she lived, and had basically said right to her face that not even Bruce Wayne’s money and power could keep her safe.

Added all together, y/n’s mind simply would not shut off in order for her to sleep.

It occurred to her again that she hadn’t seen Batman at all–had Gordon updated him on what happened? Because he had been in that photo, too. He had kept her alive, which she was certain had pissed off the Gallos. Was he a target? Maybe the picture of them together was a threat to both of them, but only given to her since they knew where she lived.

When she rolled over, her eyes caught on all of her research piled on the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes snagged on those three words: white knight syndrome.

She bet she had her answer about any possible feelings he might have. Even if he had shown up, he hadn’t tried to contact her, to see her, nothing. He was probably sick of having to keep her alive. He was probably leaving it up to Gordon and the police department now.

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone.

taglist: IF YOUR USERNAME HAS CHANGED LET ME KNOW!!!!!!

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harry-bowie-mercury · 2 years ago

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damn ok lake superior

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harry-bowie-mercury · 2 years ago

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THE SANGUINE SORCERESS 🩸🔪 cover reveal!

The moment has come for me to unveil THE SANGUINE SORCERESS to you all illustrated by Rachel Bostick! She did a wonderful job making it look both creepy and elegant. And I can't wait to show you what she's done with the interior illustrations.

THE SANGUINE SORCERESS is available to pre-order now on Amazon! Paperbacks to come soon!

Release Date: 1 December 2023!

---

A blood-soaked tale of feminine rage following the journey of Serafina Stilia, as she attempts to claw agency for herself in a society where all the power is held fast in the grip of a male-run imperialistic regime.

After her reputation is left in tatters by the unwanted advances of a suitor, Serafina must carve a path to liberation from the fury of her honour-driven father, or die trying.

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harry-bowie-mercury · 2 years ago

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To Love and Be Loved in Return - Chapter Two

Roy Kent x Reader

Read chapter 1 here

Description: The awkwardness from yesterday still lingers between you and Roy. Jamie, Rebecca and Keeley all try to make you feel better in their own ways.

Word Count: ~1.4k

• • •

Chapter 2 - Pep Talk

Coming into work Friday morning is a monumental task in and of itself. You spent most of the night before overthinking every moment with Roy that day.

You had spiraled through every possible analysis of your conversation, but as of this morning you’ve stopped worrying as much about that interaction and more about how any interaction you have today will go. He was still acting awkward about it at the end of the day, so he probably won’t be much better today.

Either way, you have work to get done before your lunch “meeting” with Rebecca and Keeley at noon. This “meeting” had become somewhat of a weekly routine for the three of you. It didn’t take long after you were hired for you to become fast friends with Rebecca, and Keeley was pretty much fast friends with everyone she’s ever met.

You watch the time tick by as you finish up your reports and interview prep for Roy. You consider just emailing them to him to avoid any awkwardness, but you know that he always works better with hard copies to review and mark up as needed. As much as seeing him today has made you nervous, you couldn’t let your feelings for Roy get in the way of doing your job well.

With this new found resolve and the best poker face you are capable of, you head downstairs and through the mostly empty locker room. You find yourself stopped at the door to the office, skimming over the report in your hands, anxiously looking for any errors or really any excuse to run back upstairs and redo it all. Maybe you could push off seeing him again until Monday.

“He’s not that scary,” Jamie chimes in behind you.

You tilt your head to look at him and raise a brow in question. He continues “Roy, ya know, he’s all grumpy with the scary eyebrows” he tries to mimic Roy’s face “and well just his general vibe, I suppose.” He trails off at the end of the last sentence.

You look at him, dumbfounded. “Was that supposed to reassure me?”

“Oh, uh, no. What I was tryin’ to say was that he’s just grumpy but he’s not really that mean. He likes ya well enough, so just go in there. Stop worryin’ so much.”

If only mean was what worried you about Roy, but of course you couldn’t say that to Jamie. The moment that man figured out how you felt about a certain coach, the entire team would know within minutes.

“Thank you Jamie. I appreciate the pep talk,” and it was true. You did appreciate the pep talk even if it was terribly misguided. Though it may be for the best that your coworkers don't all know how you really feel about your boss, and if Jamie knew, he'd give it away before long.

With a deep breath you open the door to the office with a smile plastered across your face.

Coach Beard was the first to acknowledge you. He offered a friendly smile and polite nod which you returned with a small wave. Walking past him, you stood by Roy’s desk and held the papers out to him. “Overview is on top, followed by the analytical reports, then the raw data and the last page is talking points for any press interviews.”

“Oh, I didn’t need this until Monday. You didn’t have to get it done so fast.”

“I like to stay on top of things, coach.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite assistant?”

“I’m your only assistant.” Conversation is flowing naturally between you and much of the tension from yesterday seems to have dissipated.

“Makes it easy to rank then, but I really do appreciate you getting this done y/n”

“That’s what I’m here for.” There’s a moment of comfortable silence that you relish in before turning to leave.

“Wait,” you stop in your tracks, “Do you want to go grab lunch?” He stands up and gathers his things. “It’s about that time anyway.”

“Can’t today, I’m sorry. I’ve got lunch plans with Rebecca and Keeley today.”

“Fuck, right, I forgot all about that.” he waves you off “No worries, go have fun, do “girl talk” or whatever. Let me know how it goes.”

“Of course.” You pause before adding, “Maybe we can figure out lunch together on Monday?” He nods in response and your phone buzzes in your hand. “And that would be Rebecca, see you later!”

You rush out the door before he has a moment to respond.

You arrive at the restaurant with Rebecca first. Keeley texted that she’s running a few minutes late.

You had told Rebecca about your feelings for Roy a couple weeks back and you needed to get the past couple days off your chest as he had consumed most of your waking thoughts for the past 24 hours.

“So, Roy asked me to be his plus one for the gala next weekend.”

“Oh?” Rebecca looked hopeful albeit rather confused, “And why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?”

“Well, when he slipped up and referred to me as his date, he panicked at the idea and made it beyond clear he isn’t into me. Of course I knew he didn’t like me, I mean he’s Roy fucking Kent, he dates gorgeous models, not regular office workers, but it still hurt that i didn’t get the chance to ask him out before getting brutally rejected.”

“That’s stupid.”

“What?”

“Roy would be fucking lucky to have you. Just because he’s too stupid to see it, doesn’t make you worth less just because you aren't some model.”

“It just sucks. I can’t stand being alone with him. I think I’m falling in love and he will never see me as more than just an assistant.”

“Who are we talking about?” Keeley walks up in time to hear your last remark. You were waiting to tell her until you were finally ready to deal with her teasing. She had moved on and you knew she would have no problem with you liking Roy, but she would be almost relentlessly supportive, which might just be worse.

At the same time you say “No one.” and Rebecca says “Roy”

“Ooh, falling for the boss?” Keeley adds as she sits next to you.

The waiter comes by and takes your food order. After he leaves your table Rebecca fills Keeley in on the situation. When she finishes you add, “So I’m falling for a guy who finds the idea of even a single date with me so repulsive he panicked at the suggestion.”

“I don’t think that’s it, babes. Roy is always a little panicked, he just usually gets mad about it instead. If he’s willing to show that he’s worried, then he’s dropping that facade a bit. I say you should ask him out.”

“And get turned down again?”

“I don’t know about that y/n. He seemed pretty nervous when he texted me about taking you out dress shopping.”

At that moment, the waiter brings your food, putting an end to that conversation before you got the chance to ask Keeley what she meant by that.

She asks the waiter to bring you a round of drinks. After the waiter leaves you lightly elbow Keeley. “I’ve got to go back to work after this. I can’t be drinking.”

Rebecca scoffs “Well, I’m your boss and I say you need a drink. I’m giving you the rest of the day off.”

Keeley adds, “It’s not like you’d get much done anyways. You’ll be too busy daydreaming about a certain coach.

“Fuck off” you laugh. You don’t really mean it and you all know it. You pull out your phone to text Roy.

Y/N: Hey, I won’t be back after lunch. Everything is caught up. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you on Monday!

You see the bubbles appear and disappear for a couple of minutes as you try to subtly keep an eye on your phone. Finally your torture ends as your phone vibrates in your hand.

ROY: Ok.

Those three characters should not be enough to stress you out. There’s hardly anything there to overanalyze, but that won't stop you. You take a long swig of your drink hoping that maybe the burning feeling as it slides down your throat will provide enough of a distraction.

• • •

Read Chapter 3

Series Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten @taytaylala12 @siriuslyreads

Let me know what you thought of this chapter and if you want to be added to the taglist for this series. 🖤

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harry-bowie-mercury · 2 years ago

Text

Bowled Over (Roy Kent x Reader): Chapter Five

You work at a bowling alley and a young girl named Phoebe has a birthday party there. You catch her uncle's eye.

Roy Kent x female reader

Will try to update roughly every two weeks

Chapter Five: First Date

(2k words)

Warnings: Roy Kent-level language (you know what you're in for), discussion of sexual expectation

Summary: The long-awaited date night arrives, and you and Roy both consider the self-doubt that comes from having been alone and the hope of being alone no more.

Roy had waited four very long days for his date with Splits. He had restrained himself from texting too much with her, although he was still texting a few times a day, just to ask a few introductory-type questions, and to set the actual plan for the actual date. He hadn’t called, or shown up again at the fucking bowling alley, despite how much he’d wanted to, because he didn’t want to scare her off. And he didn’t think he’d let on how excited he was for the date in their short texted conversations. He had established himself as a proper dweeb by saying he’d meet her after work – like some idiot who worked in an office park or some shit – but Roy felt that was his only mistake so far.

He was so nervous to do things wright. He’d thought he had with Keeley – fuck, he’d thought she was the one – but he obviously hadn’t. Or worse, he had managed it, but he still hadn’t been enough. He wanted to be enough for someone, so fucking badly. He got to the restaurant almost an hour early and sat in his car listening to an old pump-up playlist; he was that intent on doing things right.

When it was fifteen minutes until the agreed-upon date time, Roy summoned his nerve, got out of the car, and stood by the door of the restaurant to wait for Splits. People looked at him as they walked past, double-taking at seeing the manager just standing there. At five minutes until date time, he started getting nervous. He should have offered to pick her up, but he hadn’t wanted to creep her out by asking for an address. Why hadn’t he offered? Why was he such an idiot??

But then, at three minutes until date time, she was there, walking around the corner. She had taken “casual” literally, thank fuck, and opted for a green jumper and plain tan pants with black boots, but she was a vision. No extravagant hair or makeup, no dress that he wouldn’t be able to touch without breaking. She was the first non-celebrity he’d ever asked out, but she looked better than any of them. She looked like a real person.

Roy knew, right then and there. He was in trouble.

Splits smiled and waved when she saw him, and Roy smiled back. She seemed genuinely happy to see him, he noted with satisfaction.

“Hi, Roy,” she greeted shyly as she walked closer.

He nodded, smiling nervously. How was a man supposed to act on a first date with a normal girl he actually liked? Why hadn’t he thought to look it up beforehand? Why did he even care? He just had to be natural. What thoughts were coming naturally?

“You look really fucking nice,” he said. His body was moving of its own accord; he only realized a split second before it happened that he was going in for a hug. She leaned into it, thankfully.

“Thank you. I didn’t know where we were going, so I didn’t want to overdress. Which restaurant are we going to?”

“It’s perfect. I really like it,” said Roy in reference to the sweater. Then he took a few steps, grabbed a door, and opened it for her. “I’m bringing you to my favorite fucking place. Do you like kebabs?”

“I love kebabs.”

“Good. Hus makes the best kebabs.”

Allowing her to go in first before following, Roy grinned a brief grin to himself. He then got his face back under control and led Splits to his usual booth and sat down. She took a moment removing her purse and then sat across, which confused him a little bit, until he realized she had done it to give him her full, uninterrupted eye contact.

She had fucking warm, kind eyes. Roy felt himself getting lost in those eyes through the course of the date, and was vaguely aware of how much he was smiling, even laughing.

Yep. He was very much in trouble.

Fuck.

Roy Kent wasn’t what you’d expected.

He went for the hug, for instance. You found yourself enveloped in the smell of his cologne and the embarrassed warmth of his embrace. He was nothing but respectful, and gave you his full attention as you got to know each other. You kept catching him blinking intensely, like he was forgetting to take his eyes away from you.

The man was funny, too. You kept finding yourself laughing as he talked. He was so blunt. And that laugh! You didn’t know if it was because he was trying not to laugh, or if it was just naturally like that, but he laughed like the Ernie character on Sesame Street. You told him so without meaning to, and got a smile out of him for it.

“That’s a great compliment,” he announced. “I fucking love the Muppets.”

You giggled. “That surprises me!”

“Why? The Muppets are the peak of humor. Nothing is as funny for kids and adults at the same time. Do you know how many shit children’s programs I had to watch when Phoebe was younger? Sesame Street and the Muppets were the only ones that didn’t make me want to claw my fucking eyes out.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” you teased. The shop owner came to the table with the bill before you could say more, and you automatically reached for your bag. It was a move made out of habit, but Roy saw it and held out a hand for the check while shooting you a glare.

“The fuck are you doing? What kind of man would I be if I let you pay for your food? You’re my fucking date, and I’m paying for you.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve just been on my own for a while.”

When you looked up at Roy, his jaw was clenched.

“Don’t apologize. That was a prick move, and I’m sorry. I just… I’m enjoying myself tonight, and I hope you are, too. I don’t want you to feel like I’m expecting anything out of you.”

That was more encouraging than anything else he could have possibly said. You hadn’t gone out with someone in a long time, partly because of how much modern men seemed to expect out of women on first dates. Your last first date, nearly two years ago, had expected you to carry the conversation and allow all of his advances. He’d said he hadn’t wanted anything from you, but his conduct had said otherwise. When he’d tried to worm his way into your apartment for a hookup at the end of the night, you’d seen your way behind your locked door and blocked his number. Roy’s behavior up to now was backing up his claim that he didn’t expect anything out of you, and you felt very safe around him.

He was signing the check and putting his credit card away, looking anywhere but at you, and you realized you hadn’t responded to his incredibly sweet statement. You could see the muscles in his jaw working, his eyebrows creeping together.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours. “For?” It seemed he’d been stuck in his head, too.

Shrugging, you replied, “For dinner, and not expecting anything, and for being so kind. I’d sort of given up on dates because a lot of men aren’t. Kind, I mean.”

Roy grunted. “A lot of men are pricks. I should know, I coach a bunch of them. Shit, I used to be one. It’s taken me a long fucking time to start to change, and it’s sucked most of the way.”

“Well, thank you for doing that work on yourself,” you murmured. “I’ve had a great night.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said, treating you to another small, close-lipped smile. Then he slid out of the booth and motioned for you to follow him. “But we’re not done yet, if you’re okay with that?”

You could hide your excitement at you jumped out to follow him out of the restaurant through the door he held for you. “What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing fancy. A walk in the park, maybe?”

“That sounds great. Is there a park nearby?”

“No, we’ll have to drive. Are there any by you?”

There was, about two blocks from your flat. You told Roy as he opened the passenger door of his G Wagon for you, and was familiar with the area. You laughed as he cursed out the poppy music that blasted out of the stereo when he turned the key, teasing him for creating a pump-up mix and listening to it before a date. He surprisingly didn’t rebut you and admitted it was dorky.

You were very quickly at the park, and did a few slow laps of it together. Roy kept a respectful distance from you and kept his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, although you did notice that he kept putting himself between you and anybody else in the park. He asked questions with the intention of listening and learning more about you, and made you feel like the center of attention. When you tried to do the same to hm, he somehow steered it back to you with minimal effort.

When it started getting dark, you navigated toward the park exit, back to his car. He was quiet once more, obviously thinking. You hoped it wasn’t about how bad the date had gone compared to one with, say, a supermodel. You were happy with how things had gone, but your benchmark was pretty low.

“It’s getting dark, Roy. We should probably think about wrapping up.”

He nodded with a grunt. “I suppose. You said you lived close?”

Pointing at an older block of flats in the distance, you replied, “That’s me over there.”

“Hmm. That’s fucking close. Walk you home?”

Your heart soared as he fell into step next to you. He wanted to walk you home! It was a quiet walk, but it was a nice one with this handsome man at your side. You reached your building all too soon.

“This is me,” you said, unsure of what to say further. “This was fun.”

“It was,” agreed Roy.

Smiling, you quickly went to fish your keys out of your purse. As you did, you had a brief argument with yourself. You like Roy. You really liked Roy. But you didn’t know how ready you were for him. The polite thing to do would be to invite him in, but was that too much too soon? You weren’t that kind of girl. But it would be rude not to. How would he react, either way?

Only one way to find out.

“Would you like to come up?”

To his very great credit, Roy looked surprised. Then he thought about it, bouncing his head back and forth for a second before shaking it.

“No,” he answered. “I’m fucking flattered, but I want to do this right.”

A small part of you was relieved. “Okay, then. Well, thank you for a lovely evening. I had a really, really nice time with you.”

Roy nodded. “I did, too.”

You went to unlock entrance to your building, when Roy Kent closed the distance between you. He had the softest expression on his face, his hands still in his pockets.

“Can I kiss you?” he breathed.

Breathless yourself, and unable to speak due to how heavily your heart was beating in your neck, you could only nod. Roy leaned down and tilted his head to place a chaste kiss on, surprisingly, your cheek. Then he straightened and took two steps backwards. He looked up at the sky, and you could see him flashing that dazzling smile once again, just for a second, before he looked back at you.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night,” you echoed.

With one last grin, he turned around and started the walk back to his car. You went upstairs to your humble little flat feeling as though you were flying.

Tag list: @preciousbabypeter @harry-bowie-mercury @amieinghigh

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