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fandomficsnstuff · 10 days

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Redemption For All - 9

(Warnings: FLUFF, fluff and oh, what’s this? FLUFF:3)

Notes: I do NOT speak spanish but I think it is a very beautiful language and sadly all I can say in spanish is ‘I can’t speak spanish’, so I used google translate, sorry. Some words are in Italic, which is the translated words, and others are just straight up spanish.

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Abigail grinned at the sight that met her when Leah walked out of the hotel, the night sky already darkening as Leah stepped out and down the steps, walking over to her and the wagon they’d borrowed from camp “well, would you look at that! You look even better with all that dirt ‘n grime off of ya properly” she complimented as Leah walked closer, Leah giving her a grin as they both walked to the front of the wagon “well, I definitely feel cleaner. I even had my hair washed! I haven’t had someone wash my hair in years, since I was a little kid” Leah admitted with a brief chuckle, Abigail chuckling as she got up on the wagon, helping Leah up and past her to sit next to her, Abigail taking the reins, steering them back towards camp. The closer they got, the louder the laughter and joy, Abigail and Leah talking casually on the way, Abigail parking the wagon before both of them hopped down, meeting up in front of the horses as Leah helped her take the equipment off of the horses, much to Abigail’s horror. “Don’t you do that! You’re gonna ruin your new dress!” she exclaimed, Leah just chuckling lightly “it can be washed, relax-”

“Amiga!” Javier exclaimed, Leah turning around to face him and he halted in the middle of the darkness, eyes a little wide. None of them had seen her with her hair down, it was always in two braids or one long one. But not now. Now it was loose, her left shoulder covered by it until she pushed it back. “What? Too much?? I knew it was too much, oh my god-”

“No, no, no, amiga” Javier quickly hurried over, guiding her towards the laughter and joy around the campfires, an arm behind her, holding onto her shoulder as he led her towards the others “you look beautiful! He’ll definitely see you now. If he doesn’t, I don’t have any plans-”

“I already promised the guy at the clothing store that I’d consider him if Arthur didn’t notice me” she teased, Javier acting wounded and hurt “Ay! Don’t hurt me like this, Mi Amor!” He pleaded and joked dramatically and she laughed, gently pushing him, looking over her shoulder at Abigail who caught up with them, only for a tiny person to barrel into her, making her laugh as she leaned down and hugged him. Javier let go of Leah once they were at the main campfire, Javier walking over to play some poker with Miss Grimshaw, John and Uncle, Pearson joining soon after and Leah walked over and sat down on the wolf pelts that covered a log, the pelts that Arthur had hunted, skinned and brought back. In fact, he’d brought back a lot of things for the camp, which only made sense with how much he was gone. “Well I’ll be! Is that you under there, Doc?” Sean teased and Leah blushed, looking down at herself “I, uh… y-yeah?”

“My! Tell you what, love, with a dress like that-”

“Don’t” was all that Charles said, he didn’t even have to look at Sean, who pouted of course “I was only-”

“Don’t” Charles said again, Sean getting up, walking away as he mumbled about how boring they were, Charles looking up at Leah from across on the other side of the campfire “it’s a beautiful dress, it suits you” he stated with a smile, Leah blushing a little as she smiled “thank you…”

“Your hair is loose.”

“Yeah, uh… i-it’s been washed and it has to dry so-”

“It suits you” Charles complimented again, making Leah’s confidence rise and they both knew that, making her smile and nod again as thanks. “I’m sorry, miss, who are y-” Arthur stopped when he made it to the other side of the log and Leah looked up at him, her heart racing as she waited for his reaction, her throat dry as she forced a soft smile “I’d think you’d recognize your doctor by now, I’ve had my hands buried in your shoulder, after all” she teased nervously, Arthur’s cheeks turning pink as he scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish smile “sorry, just-... your hair-”

“I know. I-It was wet before because it’s been washed and I-I wanted it to dry before I-”

“‘s pretty” he mumbled, like he hoped she wouldn’t hear it but she did, grinning at him “thanks” she stated and he looked down at her with wide eyes, like he hadn’t expected her to hear him. “So, uh,” he looked at Charles who raised a brow at him before getting up and walking off, Arthur clearing his throat “can I get you a drink, perhaps? We uh… we got beer and some whiskey- I-I think I might have some gin?”

“A beer is fine, thanks” she stated with a smile and Arthur smiled a little, like an eager puppy trying to mask how eager it was, before turning around and walking off to find some beers. She watched him look in a box before frown and look around, finding Sean with a bunch of empty beer bottles around him, forcing him to look further for the beer, Leah chuckling lightly as she shook her head and looked back at the fire, one of her hands fiddling with some of her hair. “Well, someone’s lookin’ mighty fine, finally dressin’ like a lady, are ya?” she could recognize that voice anywhere, her smile gone and she rolled her eyes, ignoring him to the best of her ability. Her smile returned when she heard Arthur distantly shout at Sean about drinking all of the beer they had and how it was even humanly possible to do so in one night without throwing up and passing out. Though to be honest, Sean looked like he was five seconds away from falling down like a tree.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you, greaser!” Micah shouted and she froze, slowly standing up and turning to face him, a glare in her eyes “I’m the only real doctor in camp, Micah, so I want you to do something you’ve never done before and think. What happens if you get shot, hm? If you get thrown from your horse? If you need any kind of medical help? Don’t ever speak to me like that again. And should you ever touch me… they’ll never even find what’s left of you” she seethed, staring at him to drive her point across before sitting back down on the log, Micah staring at her in shock “you little-”

“Get the hell outta here, Micah” Arthur growled as he walked over, having finally found a beer, Micah scoffing at him “you going soft, old cowpoke?? Getting too old for this life, are ya?”

“You’re older than him, Micah. Shut up” Leah scoffed as she looked over her shoulder at him, Micah frowning as Arthur handed her the beer “how’d you know, greaser?? You don’t know how old I am!”

“I don’t need to. You look like a middle-aged, fat, depressed, thrice divorced asshole whom no one wants to be around because they constantly stink of booze and shit and spew racist shit every day about how a certain ‘politician’ will make ‘America great again’ even though said politician is a convicted criminal and a racist, sexist asshole” she replied casually, her expression emotionless, even as his face grew red, his hand near his gun but Arthur was quicker, his hand already on his gun and he narrowed his eyes at Micah “who you gonna think they’ll miss the most? You, or the actual doctor?” he asked darkly and Micah scoffed, walking off while muttering bitterly, Arthur scoffing as he sat down on the log next to Leah, almost at the other end of the log. “You know, I won’t bite. At least, not until I’ve had a few” she teased, Arthur’s cheeks turning pink as he looked down, his hat hiding his smirk and red cheeks but he nodded and moved closer, making Leah’s heart jump. “No beer for you?”

“That irish bastard drank it all, managed to find one he hadn’t opened yet” Arthur grumbled in slight annoyance, Leah chuckling lightly, looking down at the bottle cap, which Arthur seemed to remember “damn, here, let me-”

“I got it” she stated with a smirk, leaned down and placed the bottle cap between her teeth and before Arthur knew it, he heard a light pop and the cap being spat out somewhere on the ground, his eyes a little wide as she took a sip of the beer while looking at him, smirking “well I’ll be damned! You’re full of surprises, doc” he laughed, Leah chuckling as she handed him the beer, giving him a shy smile “I uh, don’t have anything, so, you can… you know…” she trailed off as she gestured a little to the neck of the bottle, Arthur smirking a little as he took the bottle, taking a swig before offering it back to her but she gently shook her head “I, uh… don’t actually like beer” she admitted sheepishly “I only drink it occasionally if I’m at a party or sad enough, like at Sean’s welcome party” she admitted sheepishly, taking in Arthur’s confusion, making her smile a little “I just-... wanted your company and you offered a drink, so…” she trailed off, Arthur’s cheeks turning red and he smiled slightly as he looked down, nodding “that was very sneaky of you, Doctor Riverra” he teased lightly and she smirked at him “I can be sneaky” she stated with a shrug, Arthur chuckling, taking another swig of the beer before he remembered something. “Hey, you said you only drink when you’re sad, but you drank at Sean’s welcome party… were you sad then?”

“A little…”

“Why?”

“Well… I saw you dance with Mary-Beth… And even though I can’t dance, not even to the songs back home, I wished I could… I wished I could dance so I’d be able to say yes when you asked me back at the other camp” she admitted sheepishly, Arthur looking down “well, I ain’t exactly the ideal dancing partner-”

“You are to me” she interrupted softly, keeping her eyes off of him even though she knew he was staring at her with slight confusion but also shock “you was-... sweetheart, I-I don’t think-... you don’t want me… I’m old, I ain’t a good man and I sure as hell ain’t worth lookin’ at… I ain’t a good man, doc, and-... you’re-....” he trailed off, finishing the beer in one go before putting the bottle back on the ground, sitting in silence with her, unsure of what to say until she moved to stand up. “Doc, wait-”

“Leah… my name’s Leah, it’d be nice if you called me by my name when we’re alone just once” she muttered, hurt at having to remind him, before wandering off into the forest, her cheeks burning as she felt like bursting into a million pieces, pushing past Charles when he tried to stop her. “Leah-”

“I just need-... space” she called over her shoulder hesitantly, feeling someone catch her wrist and when she looked around she saw Charles, making her sigh “I’m not going to run around, I just-” she was cut off as he presented her with his sawed-off shotgun. She hesitantly took it before nodding, mumbling a quick “thanks” before continuing on her quest into the woods for some alone time, taking Charles’ gun with her for protection. Once she deemed herself far enough out, she sat down on a stone, cringing as she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She put the gun down and began to claw at her top, taking off the top, then the undershirt underneath, reaching behind herself to claw at her corset, trying to catch the laces as she felt like her head was going to explode. “Jesus- Fuck! FUCK!” she nearly screamed, ripping at the corset as she began to hyperventilate. “Doc? Doc, you out here?? Leah-” Arthur shut up when he took in her panicked state as she clawed at her back, hurrying over, quickly assessing the situation before finding out what Leah was trying to do, quickly spinning her around and loosening the corset enough that it could slide off of her if she wanted and she fell back down onto the rock, taking heavy breaths, trying to fill her lungs, her eyes shut tightly as her breathing finally returned to normal. “Shit! Why the hell’re you wearin’ somethin’ like that?? It could kill ya!” he nearly scolded but when he saw her just bent over, head in her hands as she tried to catch her breath, he sighed heavily. “Listen, I-... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at ya-”

“I’ve been yelled at by plenty of people before in my life, Mr. Morgan” she muttered through a breathy chuckle as she leaned back, eyes shut as she straightened up to catch her breath. “Right… w-well… you alright?”

“Nope” she chuckled leaning her head against the tree right behind the rock, her eyes still closed “well… anythin’ I can do?”

“Nothing that you’d be willing to” she muttered to herself, but Arthur still heard it, making him frown “like what?” he asked and she opened her eyes, looking up at him before sighing. “Like kissing me” she stated bluntly, Arthur’s cheeks turning a little pink as he stared at her “I-”

“Arthur, I’m not mad. If you don’t want to then you don’t want to and that’s that-”

“Hold on now, just a second… you think I don’t want to?” he asked though it was the most ridiculous thing in the world but Leah scoffed and leaned her head back against the tree “you don’t have to rub it in, Arthur-”

“I-I ain’t, just-... why do you think I don’t wanna kiss you?”

“Why? You do?”

“C’mon, look at you! Who wouldn’t??” he asked with a laugh as though the idea that no one would kiss her was utterly hilarious, making her frown and sit up straight again “so, you want to?” she asked and he fell quiet, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly and she stood up, deliberately standing close to him, almost chest to chest. “Then kiss me” she stated boldly, Arthur looking into her eyes, his cheeks turning even more red “you don’t want me, darlin’-”

“Don’t tell me what I want or who I want. I’m not a little girl who’s confused about everything” she stated softly, quickly turning a little sheepish as she cleared her throat “I mean-... I-I thought I wasn’t- I mean I’m not. I’m not unsure about you, just-.... about-... you…”

“I gotta be honest, darlin’, I ain’t quite following ya…”

“I-... I’ve only had one partner before… it… uh… it led me to believe I only liked a certain kind of person, in more than a friend’s way… and uh, then you came along and changed that…”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m still not quite sure what you’re sayin’...”

“I had a partner before, you’re the complete opposite, that’s all…”

“I told you, I ain’t a good man-”

“Well, my first partner wasn’t a man at all” Leah stated bluntly, Arthur’s eyes widening a little “oh…”

“Does that bother you…?”

“Not particularly, no” he admitted sheepishly and she grinned, stepping closer, their chests touching now “then kiss me” she ordered, Arthur smirking a little “you’re quite the demanding type” he leaned down and muttered against her lips, his hands settling on her hips and she smirked “then do something about it” she whispered and instantly his lips was on hers barely a second after the words escaped her lips, her eyes closing in bliss and she hummed in satisfaction at finally feeling his lips on hers. She’d never felt like this before. It felt nothing like before. His hands were large and rough, calloused, resting on her waist. His beard gently scratched her lips and she adored it, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “You sure ‘bout this, darlin’? Sure ‘bout me?” he asked against her lips and she scoffed, nodding desperately “Arthur… you’re a good, good, good man and I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want this, if I wasn’t sure about this and sure about you… the only thing that held me back was really my previous relationship being with a woman… I-I wasn’t sure how you’d take it…” she admitted, Arthur smiling softly down at her, reaching up and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear “don’t matter much to me” he confirmed and she smiled leaning up and kissed him again. She had no idea what to expect from him, mostly since he was a he, but he was gentle with her, loving, even. “C’mon, let’s go back to the party” he stated softly and she nodded, bending down to pick up her clothes, Arthur taking the corset before she could put it on “you ain’t wearing this, sweetheart” he stated with a mumble, Leah narrowing her eyes at him “why not?”

“‘Cause you almost suffocated.”

“I wasn’t suffocating! It was-... a mild panic attack, I think…”

“A what?”

“It’s-... completely safe and has nothing to do with the corset, hand it over” she stated with a soft smile, taking it from him and he shrugged and nodded “alright…”

“Help me with it?” she asked, Arthur chuckling lightly, stepping behind her, gently lacing the corset and when he was done, he leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, his stubble scratching her skin in the most comforting way possible. He helped her put on the undershirt and the top, even though he didn’t have to. He picked up Charles’ gun before walking back with her, handing it to Charles before walking Leah to her tent. “So… you’ve been startin’ to take to ‘modern’ fashion?” Arthur asked teasingly and she chuckled “hah, yeah, over my dead body. I’ll take a pair of pants over a skirt any day now… but-... I-I don’t know, I think I like this set…” she admitted sheepishly, as if afraid that he’d reject it at any moment now but instead he just smirked, approaching her, his hands resting on her waist as he pulled her a little closer “mhm, looks damn good on ya” he stated softly in a dark voice, making a shiver run through Leah and she grinned up at him, throwing her arms over his neck, pulling him a little closer “really?...” she asked softly, Arthur’s grip on her hips tightening “really” he confirmed, leaning down to kiss her when they both heard the soft strings of a guitar be plucked, a melody soon filling the evening air, a voice following afterwards, soft and melodic, spanish words floating on the air and Leah couldn’t help but smirk up at Arthur “can you slow dance?”

“Slow dance?”

“Sway with me” she ordered softly, Arthur smirking at her before doing as told, the two of them just swaying as Javier continued to play his guitar and sing.

#Arthur Morgan #OC #Leah Riverra #Arthur x OC #Arthur Morgan x Leah Riverra #Redemption For All #Red Dead Redemption 2 #RDR2 #Red Dead Redemption fanfic #RDR2 fic

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed.

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce.

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

--------------------

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

#father of mine #father of mine part 2 #bruce wayne reader insert #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #batboys #batfam #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fic #batman fic #batman universe #batman family

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ilalos · 3 years

Text

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

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disasterofastory · 4 years

Text

Three times when you fall asleep on Ivar (Ivar x Reader)

Three times when you fall asleep on Ivar Ivar x Reader Warnings: none

Your life is busy and tiresome between training and your energetic brothers. The little pests can’t sit on their arses for one minute. If they are not on your heels, then they are somewhere else getting in trouble. You love them to death, but your days would be so much calmer without them.

You sit next to Ivar while his brothers train. They dance around each other, laughing and chatting about a slave girl.

“Who are they talking about?” You ask the youngest son of Ragnar.

“Margarethe,” he hisses with clenched jaw. His blue eyes are burning holes in his brothers.

“Why are you angry?” You ask him. “Are you interested in the slave too?”

“No, she is just a slave,” he shrugs.

“Then what is your problem?” You ask stubbornly.

You know the brothers since childhood. You spent most of your time with Ivar when his eyes were deep blue, and everybody was afraid to play with him because of his bones. He was never interested in the other sex. At least not until now.

“Why do you care?!” He snaps at you.

You stay silent. You are too tired for his moods.

Your eyelids start to get heavier and heavier till you can’t open them anymore and blackout. You lean on Ivar’s shoulders, your folded arms against your chest and your legs in a small spread. He hears your breathing, and your hair tickles his neck. He is annoyed. He doesn’t like your weight against his, and he doesn’t know what to do. Should he move? Or wake you up?

He moves.

He crawls out under your slumber form, and you fall to the ground where Ivar was a few seconds ago. He doesn’t even look back at you when you yell at him.

“You are a dick, Boneless.”

II.

The second time you dare to fall asleep on Ivar is during a sacrifice. The sun is long gone from the sky, the torches are on fire, and Aslaug speaks about the Gods and the next raid against the Christians. Your face is painted with black coal, and your hair is braided for battle, although you know you won’t fight tonight. You sit next to Ivar on a barrel. You enjoy his face while he looks at the sacrifice. He is in awe.

The voices start to fade away, and your body moves to Ivar again. For a few minutes, he doesn’t even notice, and when he does, he does nothing about it. He has a better plan. He waits for almost ten minutes for the bowl with the blood in it. He paints his face with it, then reaches above you and pours the whole liquid onto your hair. You gasp at the warm feeling which goes down on your face and neck.

“Ivar!” You shout at him, straightening out.

Of course, blood is an important part of your customs, but you don’t want to bathe in it if it’s not on the battlefield.

“What?” He asks innocently, but his sly smirk betrays him. “I think the red looks good on you.”

“Sometimes I don’t even know why I’m friends with you,” you murmur, offended. You stand up and don’t wait for his answer. You just want to go home, wash down the blood and go to sleep.

He looks after you, and his smile slowly fades away.

III.

After the first two times, you are careful around Ivar. In reality, you don’t even have time for him. You train and help with the chores around the house when you don’t look after your siblings.

One day you busy yourself in the garden when you look up and find Ivar behind the fence.

“What?” You ask him, surprised. You didn’t talk with him for a few days.

“Are you still angry with me?” He asks you impatiently. He doesn’t like it when you don’t seek him out, and he hates it when he has to apologize to you.

“No, Ivar,” you answer, and you are mean it. You are used to his mean behavior. “I’m just busy.”

“Busy enough not to come to the feast?” He asks. He sent Hvitserk to ask you about your plans tonight, and when his brother came home with the news, Ivar knew he has to come to get you himself.

“Yes,” you answer shortly. “I already told Hvitserk.”

“But you have to come!” He demands. “I’m your prince!”

“Ivar, just stop!” You tell him. “I won’t go, deal with it.”

“Tell me, why!”

“Because my parents want to look for a husband for me!" You burst out. “And I’m tired! And I want to sleep! And I can’t do that because I always have things to do, and if I can lay down, I can hear my parent working on to have more kids and my brothers noisy even when they are asleep!”

Ivar's eyes widen while he listens. He didn’t even know about your problems, but it’s not a surprise after all. Whenever you two are together, you are the one who listens to his complaints about his brothers, the slave girl, and his useless legs.

“Then you have to come!” He decides.

“What? Did you hear me?!” You ask him angrily.

“You need a night to relax, and I make sure after the feast you can sleep calmly.”

He will be damned if he let another man have you.

Before sundown, you dress up and braid your hair. You wear a burgundy dress with silver decors and a warm pelt on your shoulders. You still don’t want to go, but you know Ivar will be furious if you don’t show up.

When you arrive, the hall is already full. It seems everybody has a great time. Yeah, you wish you could go home and relax.

You see the brothers at the main table with Aslaug and an Earl from the neighborhood. Your eyes lock with Ivar’s, and he beckons you to come, sit next to him. You greet the others before you sit down next to the dark-haired Viking and look at him suspiciously when he starts to pile up foods on your plate.

“What?” He asks. “You worked all day, I’m sure you are starving.”

“Thanks,” you tell him cautiously. You know Ivar rarely shows his affection or care to others, so you have to be careful about him if you don’t want to anger him.

You start to eat, and he is right. You are starving. The food you thought is too much is gone before you know it.

“Ivar?” You ask him more warily when he puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him.

He looks at you almost pleadingly. It’s hard for him to show his feelings and even harder for him to speak about them. His blue eyes search yours to find his answer.

“I can’t let you marry someone else,” he tells you quietly so the others can’t hear him.

“Since when?”

“Does it matter?” He asks you, and you shake your head no.

For a few minutes, you are still a little bit frozen. You never imagined a future with Ivar, but you couldn’t imagine a future with someone else.

When he notices you start to doze off, he pushes you softly to his room.

“Go, change your clothes. I ordered the thralls to bring you some clothes for the night.”

“Ivar, if it’s a prank…” you warn him.

“It’s not, I promise. It’s warm and comfortable.”

You smirk, and he immediately looks you over suspiciously while you lean closer to him to whisper into his ear.

“Your one of your tunics would be enough.”

When you lean back, you see his face is red, and his lips are slightly open.

You turn around and go to Ivar’s room to change and make yourself comfortable on his bed. The wood burns and crackles on the fireplace and the furs make you warm as you lay down waiting for the Viking.

You hear him crawling to the door and slowly opens it to let himself enter.

“Is it comfortable?” He asks you.

“Yes,” you answer.

He climbs up to the bed and changes his clothes as fast as he can. You saw his legs countless times, but he still tries to hide them. You don't like it, but you understand him, and this talk can wait.

He lays down next to you, but he is rigid.

“You can get comfortable… you know?” You tell him patiently. You would be lying if you would say you don’t enjoy his haunted figure.

“Of course, I know,” he snaps at you. “This is my bed.”

“Okay… Mighty Bed Owner,” you laugh at your joke.

He doesn’t answer, and you start to doze off again. You feel warm and comfortable and tired. So tired.

Ivar waits almost half an hour to make sure you are asleep before he moves closer to you. He doesn’t even have to do much, you unconsciously lean to him till you almost on top of him. He feels your breath on his chest where the tunic doesn’t cover his skin, and your arm weighs on his stomach.

How could he let any man feel this?

#ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings imagine #vikings x reader #vikings/reader #vikings fanfic

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eremiie · 4 years

Text

a change of heart;

❥ nsfw | 6.1k words | eren x reader

❥ an annoyingly arrogant childhood friend has never seen the light of day in your eyes... until he does. eren jaeger was an anomaly that you thought you had figured out.

❥ content: cum play, choking, slight size kink, rough sex, unprotected sex

saying you liked eren was an understatement. you weren't fond of the boy— like at all.

it was something about him that you couldn't pinpoint, maybe it was the way he always had something smart to say back to you when you made the littlest comments, the way his eyebrows were always furrowed together as if he was constantly upset with you, the way he was just so aggressive— a handful if you must. you never liked the way he acted towards you, or anybody else for that matter so you never tried your luck at getting close to him.

or... maybe you didn't like that slight way your eyes widened when you first met him, or that run of his eyes over you on your first meeting. or was it the way you somewhat hoped to get into an argument with him just so you could bicker? something about your arguments thrilled you and sent a feeling you couldn't pinpoint through your body.

nevertheless, the bigger issue at hand was the fact that you couldn't seem to escape eren jaeger.

you were so unlucky and were deemed even unluckier when your mom happened to be the sweetest person on earth. she was the kind to bake a welcoming gift for the neighbors on your street, the kind to knock next door and ask in a sickeningly sweet voice for extra sugar for a recipe she was whipping up.

she'd done both of these things to your next door neighbor, which happened to be carla, carla jaeger.

once again, unluckily carla also happened to be such a sweet mom and you almost felt bad that she was blessed (cursed) with eren jaeger as a son. she was the type to bake something in return and gladly give you a small container of sugar that you would promise to bring back.

she'd done both of these things for your mom.

there advances were so continuous, and over the course of a couple years they became the most best friends imaginable, indulging in every mom-ly activity you could imagine together. this only forced you and eren to spend every unwanted second together.

you knew eren for only a couple years, yes, and you could still remember when his hair was just draped above his shoulders, an awkward length that you never failed to make weak jokes at just to see him get mad. but what you didn't know— or failed to realize that he would get even more annoying then the first time you met him.

maybe you were getting annoyed with the fact that his hair was no longer that awkward length and you couldn't throw the same lame jokes at him, because the length that it was at now? where it touched his shoulders and he threw it back into this awfully messy bun. maybe you were getting annoyed with the fact that now he was older and more occupied with the summer before college, you weren't forced to spend as much time with him, so you didn't see him much.

over these couple years though, your mom (being the doll she is) never failed to throw an annual barbecue that of course, carla always came to, not only did she come but they practically planned it together and had you and eren help out, unwillingly. they claimed it was an opportunity for you and eren to "actually get a long." because trust me— they knew about the tension between the two of you that they tried to break for years.

one of those annual barbecues seemed to be today, at the very minute, actually. you were standing next to eren, both of you with a tray of food in your hands as you awaited instructions, an irritated expression crossing both of your faces.

"okay, take those over to the buffet table you two, and then before you guys go crawl away to god knows where, one of you grab some utensils, napkins and plates and lay them down at the end of the table, and one of you turn on the speaker, guests will be flooding in soon." you chuckled at carla's comment. that's one thing you and eren had in common— the two of you almost completely hating this event if it wasn't for the good food. you would always sneak away to your room and eren would sit in your chair and mind his business while you'd lay on your bed doing your own thing. "and tell your mom i need her, _____!"

it was never an uncomfortable silence— no, as a matter of fact it wasn't always silent, lots of aimless arguments would arise and sometimes, eren would get really angry, but he never dared to leave the safety of your room rather than be surrounded by adults who claimed they'd known him since he was little.

"what?" eren asked you as you reminisced on the thought while the two of you began walking.

you glanced up at him, snapped out of your own head, him already peering down at you with furrowed brows and a slight frown on his face. "none of your business." that's not even what you meant to say but a smart retort was almost instinctive when it came to eren.

albeit your smart response he didn't send one back as he usually would, he just rolled his eyes and sat the food down on the buffet table, you doing the same. "i'll grab utensils and shit." you murmured in slight embarrassment from your quick comment eliciting no reaction. eren didn't look your direction, so you took that as a hint that he heard you as his body headed towards the direction of the old speaker that you knew'd be blasting old "parent" tunes.

you head inside, the smell of food grilling leaving your senses and the something in the midst of being baked filling them instead. you turned the corner of the dining room to enter the kitchen, your mom closing the oven after checking on the brownies baking. "hey, sweetheart, how's it going?" she asked you, smiling when she caught sight of you, all dressed nicely too, which was rare from your usual style; the black slip dress you wore coming mid thigh and lightly hugging your body. you were only wearing socks though, you didn't see the point in walking around in shoes when you'd just be retreating to the hole of your room and lounging around for as long as possible until your mom called you to help some more or to greet someone familiar.

"fine, me and eren just put down the last of the food already cooked. i'm about to set up cutlery and sh— stuff." your mom raised her eyebrow before nodding her head and watching you open up the cabinet at your feet to grab the grocery bag full of a new box of paper plates and napkins." all for the "save the turtles!" magnet your mom had pinned on the refrigerator. "hey, where are the plastic cutlery?" you asked, questioning its lack of presence in the plastic bag.

your mom turned her head towards you, from where she was wiping at her hands. "hm? oh! sorry, honey— i placed them in that cabinet up there because we had extras from that one family get together we had a couple weeks back.”

ah, yes. you remembered that family get together. despite it being family, somehow carla and eren found their way into the gathering, and not to mention that being one of the last times you saw eren, and one of the most embarrassing times.

you see, the argument you had gotten in with eren that time was over him accidentally walking into your room in the middle of you changing for the event. you had yelled at him even though it was an accident, and that was one of the first times eren didn't try his hardest to win that argument, his face too flushed red, and his apologies and excuses seeming to not calm down your anger that hid your embarrassment.

but geez, for days after you were reminiscing on the drag of his eyes going down your back and over your ass before flickering back up to your eyes and only then realizing the situation at hand. you were just happy the encounter didn't make the next time you were seeing him, being now, too awkward.

your eyes drifted towards the cabinet above your head, the one your mom was eyeing at, and you sighed. "okay, thanks, and by the way miss carla wants you." your mom's eyes widened before she placed down the rag in her hands and scurried out the kitchen. you heard her speak a few words to someone but you weren't paying much attention as your fingertips began to reach upwards to pull at the cabinet doors. when it swung open a groan left your lips when you almost immediately spotted the brightest blue box of plastic cutlery at the top shelf.

"okay, _____... you can't reach that." you opted for climbing on top of the counter, and you did despite you wearing a dress, the fabric stretching as you propped yourself up on the surface, knees together while you used your hand to try and reach for the box.

your hand barely grazed it, but that didn't matter as eren's hands reached it for you, his back pressed against yours as he used his tippy toes and the stretch of his fingertips to knock the box down and grab it in the air before it could drop to the ground. the warmth of him behind you disappeared as he backed up and looked you over from your position on the counter. "if you couldn't reach it you should've had me get the stuff."

it was your turn to roll your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks before you climbed off the counter slowly and adjusted your dress. "shut up."

eren's arm came out to hand you the box. "since when did you start wearing dresses?" he asked abruptly, once again, those thick brows coming together in curiosity as you grabbed the box from his hands, stepping forward slightly.

"i've been wearing dresses, you're just too dumb to notice." your own gaze gave eren a once-over. he never dressed formally for any of these events like your mom made you. carla could never seem to get him into anything nice. plain black jeans with an almost too tight white shirt, and you could never fail to mention the key necklace draped around his neck that he once told you his dad gave him when you had asked "why do you always have that stupid necklace on?" he had gotten really defensive and only today you realized how insensitive that comment may have been considering the fact that he rarely saw his dad— as did you. you could only recall seeing the man twice, and at one time was at one of the barbecues. "i wore one... last time."

eren's eyes went up to the ceiling as he recalled "last time" realization dawning on his face, but before you could wait for his reply you were walking past him with your head pointed towards the ground as you told him, "you can go ahead and go up to my room, i'm gonna go put these down." and he watched you walk away before scratching his chin and doing just that.

you did what you had to do, placing down the cutlery and slipping past both your mother and carla before they could get you to do anything else.

when you opened the door to your room you were surprised to see eren sitting on your bed, shoes kicked off at the edge. you narrowed your eyes at him as he looked up from his phone at you. "what? your chair's broken." your eyes glanced to the chair that sat idle near your desk before you remembered— it was broken— no it wasn't broken, one of the wheels had just been screwed off and you nor your mom had the patience to fix it.

you lowered your suspicions at eren and merely nodded your head. you really didn't mind actually, the chair was eren's self proclaimed spot, he continued to sit their his self after the first barbecue, you never actually told him to.

"wow, i'm surprised you're not throwing a tantrum." he scoffed as you climbed onto your bed stomach flopping down next to eren who was propped up against your wall. your dress had ridden up in the slightest but you made no efforts to fix it, and you didn't make an effort to grab your phone either which was sat on your desk.

your arms held up your head, elbows on the bed as you looked up at eren with a raise of your eyebrow much like your mom. "you can get out." you half joked, eren looking down at you with lagoon green eyes.

"so you can leave me down to suffer with all those people? hell no, i'd surprisingly rather be up here with you."

you tilted your head at eren. "oh? why the change of heart?"

his stare sent a prickly sensation up your bare arms, and you turned over to your side so that your one arm propped up your head, your other draped across your waist. this was basically the first time you had a simple conversation without the two of you bothering each other, the first time you were somewhat amused by the words coming out of his mouth.

where was the old eren jaeger? this new eren jaeger couldn't help but think you looked... good, not to say he's never thought this before; the subconscious thought always in the back of his head, but now it was prevalent to him. the straps of your black dress so thin, and the way it hugged your body in the slightest was almost tantalizing. you didn't seem to be wearing a bra either, he could tell by the lack of support and straps. "huh?" you added when he didn't respond right away, eren's eyes snapping back up to your face.

he whipped up a quick response; "there wasn't a change of heart. you know i'm always up here... and you're tolerable today." he placed down his phone, interested in the conversation at hand. something was laced between your words, almost taunting, almost aware, more aware than you were earlier when the two of you had that encounter in the kitchen, more aware than you were when he accidentally walked in on you a couple weeks prior.

you felt confident today, you weren't sure if it was the mere maturity between the two of you that seemed to just decide to pop up today, you weren't sure if it was eren's new attitude, or if it was your attire that gave you the confidence you possessed. you always enjoyed you and eren's arguments, you loved seeing him riled, but today the snark to his own comments instead of him getting completely heated sent an even better thrill, if you could call it, down your spine. "hm, then it's not surprising you'd rather be up here with me, jaeger... and what makes me more tolerable today?"

eren let his eyes roll to the back of his head for a split second before deciding that the best response to that question would be no answer, lying wasn't healthy anyways.

"what? is it the fact that i started wearing dresses?" you mocked his earlier words, your hand flying up to create quotations in the air.

that was one reason.

"trying to get your little dick wet eren? that little blondie wasn't doing it for you, yeah?" you joked, but the way his eyebrow twitched and his eyes darkened, lowering as a very small smirk formed on his face told you maybe your joke was more than that to him.

he let out another small scoff, face turning away from you so his jawline was visible, the tiny brown hairs that wouldn't fit in his ponytail skimming his neck and forehead before he side eyed you, then turning his head back to you and not even noticing how he scooted forward as he brought his knee up for his arm to rest on. "little?" was all he could manage to get out. he wasn't gonna lie— your comments felt quicker today, and they were catching him a little off guard.

you flipped back onto your stomach before sliding your upper body and shuffling forward to sit back on your knees diagonal from eren. you weren't gonna lie— eren's comments felt quicker today, and they were catching you a little off guard. "did i lie?"

"yeah."

"i beg to differ."

eren's hand went to his thigh. even though his dick was on the other leg, semi-hard, he wanted to tease you with the leg closer, rubbing up and down the fabric of his jeans. "wanna see then?"

your eyes glanced down to his lap and widened, jesus— this was not the eren you knew, nor the eren you expected tonight. you let yourself fall backwards onto your pillows, grabbing one throw pillow and placing it over your face as you hid your true expression. although your voice was muffled you let out an "jaeger, stop! i'm supposed to hate you."

the bed dipped underneath you as eren shuffled forward until he was peering down at you again, grabbing the pillow with one hand, your hand flying up to grab his wrist, then his coming up to pry your fingers off him. after a small tussle he pinned your hand to the bed, grabbing the pillow and chucking it off the bed to see your face.

your lips were shriveled in an embarrassing smile and you turned your head away from eren, only then realizing the presence of his cold gold pendant tickling your chest, and how close he actually was, his thigh pressed up against your side, and his untucked hairs gravitating towards you. those green-blue eyes seemed even more intimidating up close, and the dangerous slight upturn of the corner of his lips didn't seem to help in you feeling small under him.

eren jaeger, an anomaly. who knew people could change right before your eyes.

"jaeger," you brought your other hand to his chest, pushing at his sternum with as much force as possible which didn't budge him, eren only grabbing your other hand with a low chuckle and placing it above your head, bringing both of your hands together and keeping them there with one wrist. you let out a soft whine of the word "move," that made eren's lip twitch before you brought your foot up to kick him.

"kick me and i swear, ______—" and so you did— well at least you tried, eren grabbing your ankle and holding your flailing limb. you guys looked insanely stupid, and it made your little whines turn into small laughs that seemed to be contagious as eren began to laugh too. your body went limp as you soon realized that eren was pretty strong, which the old eren wasn't.

he let go of your leg, dropping it to the bed on the other side of him so he was sitting between them. "i'll let go if you admit that you don't actually hate me." a small goofy grin was on his face and it made you reciprocate.

"nope," you popped the p, eren quirking his brow at you before letting his eyes wander down. he had you in quite a position; your legs on either side of him, your hands pinned together, and your dress scrunched up just enough so he could see the black underwear you adorned. you watched his eyes trail back up, stopping at your lips, his tongue sliding over his own before coming back up to your eyes. "but it's obvious you don't hate me."

eren let out a small laugh and your stomach churned— so did his.

"nope," he popped his p just like you. "that's just some weird shit we were on when we were younger... you're not that bad." he hummed, leaning down a bit so he was hovering over your face, and god did he look amazing.

maybe he was right— maybe it was just one of those weird things that leave with age, and you were fine with it leaving, especially if it gave you the eren jaeger in front of you right now. your lips parted in effort for you to speak but you choked on your own words, not sure what to say. but you didn't have to say much because just like eren, you let your realization hit you on how he had you, how he looked, and your gaze stopped at his lips too. he took that as his cue— his face inching way too close, but not like you minded.

"the way you're looking at me doesn't seem like it, ______."

you squeezed your legs on his sides as you felt the fabric of his jeans rub against you from the proximity. "well, i—" he didn't let you finish his lips connecting with yours and you almost forget how to kiss for a moment, eren's lips being the only ones moving until he let go of your hands and you cradled his jaw, kissing him back just as fervently.

eren hummed against your lips in content, them beginning to move together as if the two of you were made for each other. something felt like it was lifted off your chest, and you really relished in the moment at hand. one of eren's hand coming up to your hair and pushing your head more towards him, the kiss becoming rougher while his other hand settled at your side gripping roughly as if you could run away any second.

you felt desperate, practically swallowing eren's lips up, him biting at your lip before pulling away for air. he looked down at you with a lustful expression, his lips parted and flushed red while his eyelids hung low. "finally, you shut up."

you looked up to the ceiling with a smile gracing your face. you didn't know if you were in shock at the fact that he could still throw quick comebacks after such an event or if you were in shock at what just happened. "you shut the fuck up— and come here,"

you lifted your head up to connect your lips back to eren's, your tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and he quickly got the hint, pushing you back down to the bed as he parted his lips so that your tongues could collide gently. the kiss was wet, and passionate, you could practically taste the lust that both of you were so oblivious about for years. you could taste how long he craved your lips on his and you almost wanted to apologize for leaving him waiting for so long.

eren's tongue licked around your mouth, doing all the work while you laid back and guided your tongue to follow his almost like a recited dance. his hips moved with yours, beginning to grind against you to relieve some of the ache in his dick, and he was glad you were wearing a dress. his hand on your hip grasped the black fabric and aggressively yanked it up, your hips lifting to help him out a little bit until your lower half was completely unveiled to him.

his mouth disconnected from yours so he could peer down at you. "fuck..." he muttered. his hand slid under your dress, smoothing over your stomach before nearing your breasts, looking back up to you as if to ask if what he was doing was fine. you gave him that confirmation and let your eyes drift close as his warm palm relaxed itself over your tit. the contact that his fingers made with you nipple as he moved his hand down to toy at it caused them to harden and you to whimper.

eren ducked down to your neck so he could kiss it, nibbling at the sensitive flesh which elicit your hand to fly to his messy brown locks. "yeah..." you sighed, elated with the feeling of him sucking at your skin, his tongue occasionally licking at the spot and his teeth grazing over it as well before he completely pulled off, hoping a distinctive hickey you would have trouble hiding from your mom would begin to appear sooner or later.

his hand slid back down to your side until it went over the curve of your back and trailed down your ass until it met your supple thighs. he grasped at your skin, the fat underneath his fingertips leaving his imagination to wonder what it would be like in between your thighs. he brought his other thumb to your plain black panties, pressing it against your clothed entrance just to get a feel and your head flew back so you were no longer watching him— eyebrows turning upwards and mouth parting as uneven breaths left you mouth.

you were so hot and bothered, you needed him now— any way you could take him.

"need you... right now, eren." you mumbled, your hand retreating between your dress to cup at your own breast.

eren looked up at you another smile playing on his lips, and he would be the death of you. "first name basis now that you want to be fucked by me?"

"oh my gosh, just hurry."

you brought your legs closer to your body as eren's hand came to the hem of the fabric that was the only thing separating you and him. he pulled it over your legs and down your feet tossing it to the side. when you didn't part your legs for him immediately he brought his hand to both of your knees and with some resistance parted them for you, the sight of your glistening cunt going straight to his dick.

you were so pretty to him, yet he didn't want to boost your ego any more so he held his tongue and untucked his lip from his teeth before stepping off the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling your body to the edge of the bed.

your pussy fluttered as you watched eren fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. he stopped for a brief moment, groaning in annoyance before looking back to you. "i don't have a condom."

your hand flew to your forehead and you felt yourself squeeze around nothing at the thought of eren sliding into you without one. "you're clean right?"

eren scoffed. "yeah."

"okay well then hurry!" you repeated, eren going back to pulling his pants down until they were pooled at his ankles, as well as his boxers. his dick was finally exposed to you, and you stifled a moan when you saw it— pretty, hard, big and flushed red in anticipation for you not anyone else. he took himself into his hands and smeared his pre cum over his length while his head tilted back and his jaw dropped at the slight relief.

"this is about to be the best dick you've ever had." he half joked as he grabbed your hips and pressed at your entrance, leaning overtop of you again.

"we'll see about that, ja—" you couldn't even get the rest of your sentence out as you felt his tip slide more into you, a gasp leaving your throat, your walls clenching his tip causing him to let out a slight moan.

he stopped for a moment, bringing his hand up to steady himself on the bed. "eren, not jaeger."

he pushed in a little more, your hand flying over to your mouth muffling your, "eren!" which caused him to smirk. "shit... you—" a little more, your eyebrows coming together like his as he tried filling you up even more.

"me what?" he breathed out, pushing in a little more.

your back arched and your fingers came to wrap around his wrist beside your head for support. "it kind of hurts." you mewled out. of course you wouldn't tell eren this, but it had been awhile since the last time you had sex, prone to getting yourself off instead, and eren's size wasn't helping either.

"well..." he started, sheathing himself more inside you as your grip on his wrist tightened, and small pathetic half-whines left your throat. "you gotta take it." your eyes screwed even more shut as his words rang through your head. you were practically throbbing for him and you wanted this just as bad. "don't start something you can't finish." and with that the brunette let his length fill you up completely, ignoring your slight displeasure until he bottomed out, shushing you and letting his hand come down to rub circles on your clit to soothe you.

a sigh left your lips and your hand relaxed from eren's wrist. "okay."

"okay?"

"you can move." and eren wasted no time doing just that, his hips moving backwards and sliding against your walls causing you and him to groan at the same time.

when you were fully adjusted, and any discomfort you felt had drifted away, eren moved faster, almost fucking you how he wanted to in the first place. he lifted himself from the bed and put his hands on your hips, dragging you onto him as he pushed in and out of you, basking in your moans of pleasure and the feeling of your tight walls trying to consume him.

"yes," you said with gritted teeth as the way eren thrusted into you with purpose felt amazing and left you wondering why you didn't confess to your attraction to him sooner. "fuck, eren..." his hips stuttered from the way you sounded moaning his name. he wanted to hear it again, and again, wanted to hear it so many times that he could hear it when he fucked his fist to your pretty face. "like that, just like that."

"again." he demanded, and the low octave of his voice ordering you to repeat his name sent your head into a spiral. you grind against him, your wetness smearing on his abdomen. eren brought his hand to your hair again, pulling your body up off the bed and you winced at his tight grip as he continued to fuck up into you nicely. "i said again."

"eren," you repeated more like a plea. he pulled your head forward more, smashing his lips to yours again briefly, just wanting to feel more of you, wanting to feel you crave him.

"what do you want me to do?" he asked. he wanted you to tell him how bad you wanted him, how bad you wanted him to fuck you— and with the way his cock stretched you out so well, fucking into you with ease, like it's what he was made for, you were willing to do just that. "hm?"

"fuck me good, make me cum, eren, please."

"if i do you're gonna stop acting like a little brat when we're together right?"

"yes, yes, yes," you babbled not even realizing what he said that had you nodding your head hastily.

eren chuckled at the lack of hesitance in your response, softening his grip on your hair and letting your head fall back to the bed. "good girl." he murmured while slowing down his pace causing you to roll your hips into his as a silent plea to go faster. eren pushed your dress up some more until it was bunched up right to your chest, then having you pull off the straps to free your tits. he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, pushing you higher on the bed to create space for himself, not leaving you once, leaving your cunt fluttering around him as he did all these motions.

the little sad cries that would leave your lips begging him to hurry up so that he could fuck you again made you sound so stupid for him, so impatient and so dirty. eren didn't mind at all though, when he shifted himself up on your bed and pressed your legs to either side of your body so he could hit deeper, he complied with your wishes. "open your mouth." and you complied to his, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out, eren coming down to let his spit drop into your mouth, and the second his saliva came in contact with the muscle you squeezed his member from inside of you, he could feel you tighten around him and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you swallowed. he watched your throat bob before wrapping his hand around your neck to create leverage for himself.

when you felt him drag himself out and back into you so forcefully, your body jolting as he continued the motion, fucking down into you. he was drilling that soft spot inside of you, and he didn't stop you when your hand trailed down below his arm to touch yourself, rubbing at your swollen clit while he drilled you. "you're gonna cum?"

you were too incoherent to form words, the nods of your head telling him enough. he was on the verge of coming too, but he wanted you to come first, he wanted to feel you pulse around his throbbing cock, spill your slick all over him. "shit, then cum all over me, _____. right on my dick, let me feel it." you let out a sultry moan, eren letting go of your neck going to grasp one of your bouncing breast the other grasping your thigh and pounding into you hard while you got yourself off with your middle finger.

small cries spilled out of your lips as your orgasm slowly approached until it finally did, your vision blanking out, pussy squeezing eren impossibly tight, and every nerve being pinched in your body. your hand unconsciously flew to your blanket, gripping the fabric tight as you moaned a drawled out sound resembling eren's name. you felt like you were the only person alive, like the guests downstairs didn't exist, like your parents weren't just outside your window along with them, not even like eren was there when your climax washed over your body, blurring your senses.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah—" eren was having trouble holding back, but as soon as he felt your juices coat him, and the sound of his name from you he let go of your thighs and chest, pulling out of your wet heat and jerking himself to completion, hot cum spilling all over your lower stomach as to avoid your dress. "shit.." he panted, watching his seed sit idle on your pretty skin.

he felt hazy, almost in disbelief that he just fucked your lights out, almost quite literally as you hadn't opened your eyes since your orgasm.

eren took it upon himself to gather some of his cum with a swipe of his finger then prod at your swollen lips, you lazily opening your mouth to taste the salty taste of his cum. "good?" and you hummed, letting your head fall back to the blankets and closing your eyes.

eren tucked himself in, leaving to head towards your bathroom, and soon enough coming back to help you clean up. when you felt the warmth of something slide over your lower abdomen, you too out of it to open your eyes, you relaxed against the bed. eren adjusted your dress and slipped your underwear on for you, shaking your arm to wake you up. "your mom was out there. she was about to check on you when i walked out the bathroom. that would've been embarrassing."

you were too tired to respond, blinking at eren before picking yourself up and sitting up in front of him, his height allowing him to still be looking down at you even though you were on a bed. "i'm gonna head down cause i'll probably be leaving soon... i'll tell her you're sleep."

you nodded your head at eren before crawling to your bed and under the blankets, turning away from him. eren eyed you for a moment before coming forward and deciding to press a kiss to your ear, then grabbing his phone and slipping on his shoes. he grabbed the damp paper towel and threw it in your trash, shutting your lights and shutting the door quietly.

eren jaeger, an anomaly you thought you had figured out who happened not to be that bad after all.

maybe you did like eren— just a little bit.

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren yeager smut #eren smut

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

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The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader

summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash. luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you. rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad

a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie. he’s just a hot dad. don’t overthink it.

You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there. With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door.

"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.

You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in. But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform. Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that…

Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug. "Hey!" you greeted in return.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door. "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.

"Bedtime? Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10. It's a school night."

She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day. "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.

Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.

It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow. You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket. But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.

Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno. Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began. You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.

What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too. You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone. You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.

You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice. You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now. Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.

It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.

“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up. He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way. Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating. It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.

“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.

“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.

“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.

“Did you not notice?”

“I.. got carried away.”

You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for. It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.

“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little. It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded. “What a good girl.”

That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine. Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new. “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.

“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”

“You think so?” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently. There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.

As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.

Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.

“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm. Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed. “Not when we’re alone.”

Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.

"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan. “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it. Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.

“She won’t,” he assured. “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”

You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could. You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this. Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.

“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned. “Tell me what you do want.”

“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach. "I want you to make me feel good."

You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say. "Yeah? I can do that," he decided. "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped. Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord. You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished. "How do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."

There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts. You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace. "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly. "Good."

He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.

“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.

You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.

Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly. It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.

Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you. Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours. You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.

You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted. Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.

His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top. He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other. Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little. It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.

“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.

“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind.

As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed. You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did.

He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you. Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them. He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too. Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him. Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly. “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”

Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.

Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you. “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt. “Look at you, acting so desperate…”

At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.

He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt. He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists. “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.

Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much? There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.

“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you. It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes.

“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.

Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating. You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.

"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.

"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.

"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"

You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.

He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.

"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood. Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.

"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly. "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”

He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.

“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt. Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.

The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you. You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state. You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.

When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open. “Fuck!” you yelped.

He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.

Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers. It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature. How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?

When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars. Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode. Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand. It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder. You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.

When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath. He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.

“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured. You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.

When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it. “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.

“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves. Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno. Or, Marcus. You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.

He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain. The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.

He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter. "I'm gonna move now," he announced. You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.

"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again. Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for. But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.

He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back. "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"

You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.

"Fuck, I knew it. Knew as soon as I saw you."

Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin. You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.

Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound. "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat

"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"

"You have to."

"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse. "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"

He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips. You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.

What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them. It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there. You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity. Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.

That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent. "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.

“Yeah? Go ahead," he encouraged. "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."

You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.

Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."

You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level. It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.

It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you. It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate. You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there. Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.

You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control. You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever. So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.

"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.

"Fuck, really?" he rasped.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.

"You're on the pill?"

Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.

He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement. "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"

You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night. Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs? Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?

With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.

It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.

"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought. "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"

"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged. With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."

"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck. In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards. But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.

Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.

"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."

"H-how many ways are there?!"

He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent. We can fix that.”

You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal x reader

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun��s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him.

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest.

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do.

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them.

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

#kun smut #kun fic #kun scenarios #kun imagines #nct fic #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #wayv fic #wayv scenarios #wayv smut #wayv imagines #ambw scenarios #kpop ambw #ambw fic #ambw smut #ambw imagines #qian kun

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dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

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Twisted 29 - Miracles and Endings [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Oh my goodness, the last chapter before the epilogue! ❤ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback my loves, I hope you will like it! ❤ Ilysm! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, death, mentions of sex, drinking.

Word Count: 4600

Summary: Sometimes, miracles happen.

The following weeks were more of a bliss than you were used to. It was like you could finally breathe, finally lose yourself in peace.

You heaved a sigh and snuggled into the soft covers, not ready to leave the pleasant haze of sleep yet but when you felt the empty space beside you, you opened your eyes and sat up straight in bed, looking around.

“Spencer?” you called out and heard the footsteps in the living room. You yawned as you stretched your body, then pushed the covers off of you, grabbed your dressing gown to put it on and made your way to the living room.

You found him by the desk, busy with something you couldn’t see just yet and you cleared your throat, making him jump out of his skin before he pushed whatever he was holding into his satchel.

“Hey,” you said when he turned to you, “What have you got there?”

“Nothing,” he said way too quickly, “Nothing, I- I didn’t hear you wake up.”

“Oh, clearly,” you grinned before you walked to him and pecked him on the lips, “You’re not thinking about bailing on the brunch, are you?”

“I can’t believe we put your family’s brunch and team’s dinner on the same Sunday.”

“Yes but that way, we can do whatever we want the next Sunday,” you pointed out, “Including staying in bed whole day.”

“The whole day?” he mused and you kissed his lips again,

“I mean, I’m sure we can find something to…entertain ourselves.”

“Oh I’m sure,” he wrapped his arms around you, and your phone beeped, making you heave a sigh.

“That’s our cue to get ready, I guess,” you said, “Before my mom barges in here.”

“Does she even know where I live?”

You shot him a look, “Spencer. Come on.”

“Right.”

You reached out to run your fingers through his curls, “So, your last week at BAU,” you said, “How are we feeling?”

“I mean, I’m already teaching most of the time, it was just…formalities at BAU at this point,” he said, “But yeah. Next week will be interesting I guess.”

“A new slate,” you reminded him, “It will be fun. And you know, I will still love you when you’re this old and hot professor, so keep that in mind.”

Even though your joke was supposed to make him laugh, you couldn’t help but notice that look of hesitation on his face.

“You—you do, right?” he asked, and you raised your brows.

“Hm?”

“You love me?”

You blinked a couple of times, then let out a small laugh.

“Oh wow, sex makes you clingy doesn’t it professor?”

“Y/N.”

“No seriously, having to wait for a couple of weeks because of something so trivial-“

“Broken ribs are not trivial,” he corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever. If this is your way of saying last night was mind blowing for you,” you said “So much that it made you forget one very simple fact…”

“Very simple fact, huh?” he repeated with a smile and you nodded.

“Consider this your daily reminder,” you said and stood on your tiptoes to give him a kiss, “I love you,” you muttered against his lips, kissing him again, “So, so much.”

He pulled you closer to himself, deepening the kiss, his fingertips caressing your neck before you pulled back with a sigh.

“We should get ready,” you told him, “No distractions professor, come on."

***

Since the weather was so nice and warm, your mother had decided that you could have the brunch outside. The maid let you in and Lily screeched, then rushed to hug Spencer as soon as she saw you two and he lifted her up.

“Is that a new headband?” he joked and she giggled.

“Yes!” she said “Hi auntie!”

“Hi bug,” you kissed her cheek, “What, you like him better or something?”

“No, but you can’t lift me yet,” she said with her nose in the air, “Mama said it’d hurt you.”

“She does have a point,” Spencer pointed out and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I’m fine!”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Mina commented from the living room, making Kenzie let out a laugh. Spencer’s phone started ringing as soon as you stepped into the room and he had to put Lily down.

“Excuse me,” he said and made his way to the hallway while Nolan approached you to kiss you on the cheek.

“Hey there,”

“Hey, where’s mom?”

“Upstairs, picking earrings,” he said, “The table isn’t ready yet but if Spencer wants, I have this wonderful coffee, he needs to try it.”

“Why do I get no love today?” you asked to no one in particular and Kenzie smiled before wrapping her arms around you.

“Aw but I love you!” she said, making you grin.

“Only you are going to be in my will, none of these people.” You motioned around the room and Mina scoffed.

“I think I’ll be fine thank you. I’ve seen your wardrobe, I’m not impressed.”

“How dare you?” you gasped, making Lily giggle.

“What’s a will?” she asked and Mina shook her head.

“It’s a grown up document baby.”

“Speaking of grown up documents,” you grinned and turned to Nolan, “Please tell me we won’t have any surprises during brunch. Because me and Spencer have this bet going on—“

“Oh please, he’s not going to ask her here,” Mina said, “It’ll be on top of a mountain or something.”

“Mountains are cold this time of the year.”

“I just want to point out,” you said, “If it is a plan that will take place in near future—Lily, cover your ears baby.”

Lily put her hands over her ears, looking up at you curiously.

“My assistant tried to kill me very recently, so I’m behind my schedule and my client list is full.”

“It’s not full, and you’re not getting out of this that easy.”

“I almost died!”

“Yeah and see, now you have another excuse besides my father is a serial—“

“Can I listen now please?” Lily asked very loudly, making you smile and you nodded so that she could uncover her ears as Mina pulled her to her lap to press a kiss into her hair, fixing her headband.

“Besides, Nolan won’t have something huge, right Nolan?”

“Yeah like… hundred people, maximum.” Nolan stated and you shook your head.

“Unbelievable,” you said, “I’m going outside to get some fresh air.”

You grabbed your cigarette pack from your purse, then made your way to the backyard while the table was still being set, and you lit your cigarette, closing your eyes for a moment, laughing to yourself.

You had already prepared a plan for your mom’s wedding but it didn’t mean you couldn’t whine about it.

You exhaled the smoke, then looked over your shoulder when someone touched the small of your back.

“Hey,” you smiled at Spencer, “Is everything okay?”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, “Uh huh,” he said, “Everything is fine. But um- Luke just called.”

“About tonight’s dinner?”

“No, about um…” he pursed his lips for a moment, “I’m only telling you this because you should hear this from me, not anyone else.”

“Oh God, what happened?” you pressed a hand over your chest, “Spencer, is everyone okay?”

“Yeah!” he said quickly, “Yeah, it’s not like that. It’s just um…”

“What?”

“Lincoln is dead.”

You gawked at him, trying to wrap your mind around it and ignoring the goosebumps on your skin. “I’m sorry?”

“There was an accident,” he said, “Apparently some inmates got into a fight, and while they were closing the doors, there was this glitch so his door didn’t close completely before someone could get into his cell.”

You blinked a couple of times, “A glitch,” you repeated, “What glitch?”

“It’s all automatic, the doors are connected to the security system.”

“What security system?”

He crossed his arms, “I didn’t ask—“

“Yes you did,” you said, “What security system?”

He didn’t even flinch. “Yates Security.”

“You can’t be serious,” you covered your mouth and he shrugged his shoulders, as if it meant nothing.

“These things happen.”

“They don’t just….” you trailed off “That wasn’t an accident, you know it as much as I do!”

“No actually, I don’t,” he said, “I just know that the FBI has no reason to investigate it further.”

You let out a breath, still staring up at him.

“Did you know?” you asked him, “That it would happen?”

“No,” he said, “But even if I knew, I wouldn’t have stopped it.”

You shook your head, “You don’t mean that.”

He let out a bitter laugh, “I do,” he said, “I really do. Hell, I’d help if I knew.”

“Spencer-“

“You don’t think I wanted to do that?” he cut you off, “While we were waiting for you? I could’ve just gone to his room and make sure it was done. Make sure he wouldn’t wake up again— I was going to do it, Y/N. I stood up to go to his floor, right before a nurse told us that you were out of the surgery.”

You were supposed to feel guilt. You were supposed to feel something, but you knew what he meant. You knew that red haze of anger all too well, that was exactly how you had felt back at the cabin, when Lincoln had mentioned hurting Spencer.

“I… I need to talk to my mom, excuse me,” you said and made your way upstairs to your mother’s bedroom before you opened it.

“Oh welcome honey!” she said, putting her earrings on, “I’ll be right downsta—“

“Lincoln is dead,” you cut her off and she froze only for a moment before she shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, not a huge tragedy.”

“Mom.”

“I doubt anyone will miss that monster.”

“Nolan wouldn’t do it without you asking him,” you shook your head, “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes, then looked at you. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Mom you—“ you lowered your voice, looking around before you took a step towards her, “I never asked you to do that. I would never. Me doing it is one thing, you doing it—“

“Is exactly the same thing,” she finished your sentence for you, “I made my decision while waiting for you to wake up, Y/N. Don’t feel bad about it.”

“I don’t feel bad about it!” you insisted, “That’s not it! But it’s my mess, you guys aren’t supposed to be involved in this—“

“Why did you go with Lincoln again?” she asked you, taking you by surprise, “You and I both know you were more than capable of taking him down. Remind me, why did you follow him to that cabin?”

That was more than enough to make you fall silent before you shifted your weight.

“I thought he had Lily.”

Your mother smiled slightly, “There you go.”

“Mom it’s different though!” you said through your teeth, “You and Mina—you guys don’t have it in you!”

“We all have it in us, Y/N,” she said, “When it comes to protecting the ones we love. I wasn’t going to let him hurt my daughter and get away with it. I don’t care who gets hurt in the process as long as my family survives.”

A silence fell upon you as she heaved a sigh.

“Let’s go downstairs, I’m starving!” she said and pressed a kiss on your cheek, then walked out of the room while you stood there, frozen.

Through the shock, your mind was slowly putting the pieces together.

When your father had threatened Spencer and you unleashed hell on him, that look in his eyes wasn’t just intimidation. It was a familiar fear because he had seen your mother in you, that was why he was shocked that much.

Contrary to everything he had said, you weren’t really his daughter.

You were your mother’s.

***

You didn’t feel bad. In fact, you didn’t feel a damn thing about Lincoln’s death to be honest, this dinner with Spencer’s friends was of higher importance than that monster who had tormented you for months.

Prey dies, predator moves on, your father would say.

Or as your mother had said, as long as your family survived…

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked as he pulled over in front of a mansion that he had said belonged to Rossi, and you turned your head.

“Yeah,” you said, “Yeah, I’m just thinking.”

“About Lincoln?”

“Yeah,” you said, “It’s just that… I think I now understand that everyone has some red lines, right? Maybe I’m not that different than the rest. The rest just doesn’t really think about it, that’s all.”

Spencer tilted his head, “So in other words, I was right?”

“I didn’t say that,” you pointed at him as he grabbed the wine bottle and got out of the car with you, “Speaking of death, my mom and Nolan’s wedding will have one hundred guests.”

“Okay?”

“And they will make me plan it and I’ll die.”

“You won’t die.”

“My mom has the fury of ten brides combined,” you grumbled as you both walked to the mansion, “On a good day, if I may add.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I wish I were. Once I showed up to brunch wearing a silver ring,” you said, “She gave me a speech for a whole hour. An hour, Spencer!”

He let out a laugh and rang the doorbell as you shifted your weight, insecurity hitting you out of nowhere.

“Your whole team, you said?”

“And their spouses.”

“So no pressure at all,” you said, making him smile.

“You already know most of them.”

“Yeah but it’s different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well it’s—“ you started, but then the door opened and Garcia squealed at the sight of you two.

“Finally!” she hugged you carefully and then pulled you both into the mansion, “We were wondering where you two were!”

“Can we eat now that they’re here?” Luke called out and Garcia shook her head.

“Unbelievable, honestly,” she said as you followed her to the living room. Everyone was already there, and you greeted them, then Garcia introduced you to Matt’s wife and JJ’s husband before leading you to the kitchen where Rossi was cooking.

You hadn’t really had chance to talk to him a lot during the case, but you guessed it was a good sign that he had allowed Spencer to bring you there, considering everyone in there was either in the team or their spouses.

“Hi,” you smiled at him while Garcia and Luke bickered about food, and the man who was talking to a woman by the corner of the kitchen looked up, then both of them approached you.

“Pretty boy!” he greeted Spencer and Spencer hugged him.

“Hi Derek,” he said with a huge smile, “Savannah.”

“And this must be the girl you kept calling me to get some advice about,” he said and offered his hand, “Derek Morgan.”

“Oh I heard so much about you!” you said as you shook his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Not as much as I heard about you,” he said, “This is my wife, Savannah.”

“Hi,” you shook hands with her as well and Derek grinned.

“So now that you’re here, has he ever told you that he once called me at one in the morning to talk about you?”

You let out a laugh, looking up at Spencer who was rubbing the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

“Aw, that’s so cute,” you said, “What did he say?”

“Don’t.” Spencer shook his head fervently and Savannah raised her brows, then turned to Derek.

“Mmm, does this mean we can’t talk about the time he called me to help him decide which magnet looked better?”

Your jaw dropped, “Wait, what?”

“I suffered for two hours, you guys can’t whine about that!” Luke called out, “I was there with him in that damn shop!”

“I’m begging everyone in this kitchen to tell me more embarrassing stories.”

“Oh how about that time—“ Derek started but Spencer cleared his throat.

“Rossi, we brought wine!” he said loudly as he put the wine on the counter and Rossi tilted his head.

“I’m guessing the lady picked that,” he said and you smiled.

“Spencer mentioned you were making carbonara,” you said, “I um- I visited this small city in Italy couple of years back, and the cook there swore by this.”

Rossi stared at you and Derek let out a laugh,

“Yeah, you won him over just like that.”

“Where was it?”

“Parma.”

Rossi put the towel over his shoulder on the counter, “Please tell me you have tried torta fritta.”

“Are you kidding? I basically lived on that for the whole weekend!” you said and Rossi’s jaw dropped, “Seriously, I ate it for breakfast, and then for lunch with—“

“Rich people,” Luke shook his head as he reached out to get the wine bottle from the counter “But now I want to try it out.”

“Have you learned how to cook carbonara while you were there?” Rossi asked and you shook your head.

“Nah I don’t… I can’t cook. I know how to buy stuff but I don’t know anything about food aside from that.”

Luke frowned, “Your parents never taught you?”

“Not really. My mom taught me how to walk in heels and my dad taught me how to stab someone in the jugular.”

A silence fell upon the kitchen and you shifted your weight.

“Wrong crowd,” you murmured and Spencer pulled you closer to him while Luke shook his head.

“No, now we know that you were raised by wolves.”

“Newbie!” Garcia hissed, making him grin.

“This is why you’re no longer allowed to drive my car, Luke,” you said as Spencer rested his chin on top of your head, “No croissants for you either.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he shot back and Rossi clapped his hands together.

“Dinner is ready, everyone to the living room, come on.”

“Um- Derek, can I talk to you for a moment? And Luke?” Spencer asked and you looked up at him.

“If this is about embarrassing stories, I’m so going to find out.”

“Oh we can tell you,” Savannah motioned between her and Garcia and you grinned.

“Victory.”

“I’ll be right there,” Spencer said and you nodded, then walked to the living room with Rossi, Savannah and Garcia. You took your seat beside Garcia, and JJ frowned.

“Where’s Spencer?”

“Talking to Derek and Luke in the kitchen,” you said while Rossi put generous amounts of pasta in everyone’s plates, and Garcia squeezed your hand.

“I’m so glad you’re okay and here with us now,” she said, “We all are.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, “Thank you,” you said, “It…it means a lot.”

“So, do you want to hear an embarrassing story?” Savannah asked and JJ turned to look at you two.

“We’re exchanging embarrassing stories?”

“About Spencer’s romantic side.”

JJ let out a laugh, “Oh I have a lot of them, if you’re interested.”

“I’m very interested,” you said and Savannah cleared her throat.

“So do I start with the one when he called Derek right before this…ball you were attending? Apparently he panicked because you looked too good and he didn’t know how to talk to you.”

Your jaw dropped, “You’re not serious.”

“He told me to fix his phone while you weren’t texting him, because he thought his phone was broken.” Garcia tipped her glass towards you as if toasting.

“Oh my God.”

“He walked into my desk when Luke was telling Tara about you.” JJ added and you let out a laugh.

“Am I dreaming?” you asked, “I’m begging you, please give me more stories like these, I thought I was the one who was a mess in the beginning.”

“Not at all, you should’ve seen the texts he sent me.”

That reminded you to check your phone, but then you remembered you had left it in the kitchen and you nibbled on your lip before pushing your chair back.

“Excuse me,” you said and approached the kitchen, the voices reaching you now.

“I just…” Spencer heaved a sigh, “I don’t think you understand.”

“I don’t?” Derek asked, “Spencer, you do realize that I went through the same thing, right?”

“I mean I didn’t,” Luke said, “But I still don’t think it’s that difficult, man.”

“See? He doesn’t understand the stress it puts you under, not me.” Derek said and Luke scoffed.

“You guys faced serial killers, that’s what scares you off?”

Ah. They were talking about changing jobs.

Of course Spencer was stressed about it. Derek had already left the BAU and Luke didn’t, and he wanted to get their opinion.

You knocked on the doorframe and cleared your throat before stepping inside.

“Sorry, I left my purse here,” you grabbed it off the counter and Spencer ran his hand through his hair.

“Oh it’s- it’s okay, we were done.”

“I’m starving.” Luke commented and Derek grinned, and both of them walked out of the kitchen, leaving you and Spencer there. He stared at you like he was almost hesitant and you tilted your head.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, and he cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” you stepped closer to him, “Because you know…changing jobs and all, it might be a little stressful.”

“What?” he asked as if he didn’t understand what you were talking about, then it dawned on him, “Ah no. No, I’m not stressed about that.”

“Then something else?” you asked, “Spencer, you can tell me anything, you know that right?”

He squeezed your hand and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you, “Yeah, I know.”

“But you won’t,” you said with a smile, reaching out to smooth the lines of worry between his brows and he let out a breath.

“I will,” he said, “It’s just that um… not right now?”

“Okay. That’s alright, whenever you’re ready.”

He nodded, then pressed his lips on top of your head.

“I love you,” he mumbled into your hair and you ran your hand up and down over his arm, then pulled back,

“I love carbonara,” you said, making him laugh. “Come on, dinner is getting cold.”

***

By the time you got home, it was already night time. You kicked off your heels and made your way to Spencer’s bedroom to change into an oversized shirt, then whined to yourself when you realized you still had make up on.

Well. That could wait until you checked your email.

Apparently, Kenzie had sent you a list of her colleagues that worked as assistants and you really needed to replace Erica with someone hopefully less tendencies to want you dead. You had left your laptop in the living room so you stretched out and made your way to the living room.

“I wish Kenzie could just decide on someone instead of me,” you said as Spencer took a deep breath, looking for something in his bag “It would make it so much easier. What are you looking for? Maybe I saw it around.”

Spencer looked over his shoulder, the look in his eyes softening almost immediately and a smile pulled at his lips.

“What?” you asked, and he held out his hand.

“Come here,” he said and you took his hand before you let him pull you closer.

“What’s happening, professor?” you giggled as he pushed your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I know, it’s the eyeliner.”

“It really isn’t,” he said and a fire crept under your cheeks, making you scrunch up your nose.

“It’s the oxytocin,” you corrected yourself, making him laugh before he licked his lips and grabbed something from his bag.

“I..I got you something,” he handed you something that looked either like a notebook or a book wrapped in giftwrap and you gasped, snatching it out of his hand.

“Thank you! Can I open it now?”

“Yeah,” he sounded breathless for some reason as he stepped back and you turned around, carefully unwrapping it.

Paradise by Dante.

“Spencer…”

“It’s um- it’s a special edition,” he said from behind you, “You should check out the preface.”

You nodded fervently and opened the cover to see this preface, but Spencer’s handwriting caught your attention, and it took you a second to actually acknowledge what he had written on the page.

Will you marry me?

Your breath got caught in your throat and your heart started pacing in your chest, making you stare at the page for a couple of second with your jaw hanging before you looked over your shoulder, then turned around to see him on one knee, holding the tiny box which had the most gorgeous ring you had ever seen in it.

“Oh my God…” you heard yourself breathe out, tears already filling your eyes, “Yes!”

An almost giddy laughter escaped from his lips, “Can I- can I ask first?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I just— Spencer, how did you afford that ring? Not that it—just let me know if you robbed a bank. I feel like that’s something I might need to know.”

Spencer pulled his brows together, “For a person who specializes in weddings, you’re terrible at this part.”

“Because this part isn’t my specialty- just ask me so that I can say yes.”

He smiled as if he was hypnotized, then nodded.

“I um…” he cleared his throat, “I asked your family first because I know how much it means to you to have their blessing even if you pretend like it doesn’t matter,” he said, “And um- they all gave their blessing. Mina sat me down and threatened me for a full hour before that, but she did in the end.”

Jesus Christ, how had no one told you anything? Not even an implication?

“When we first met,” he said, “That morning, I didn’t… I don’t know what I expected, but not you. It was supposed to be just a case, up until that point it was like any other and then you showed up in that hallway and for a second, just for a second, everything got silent in my head. I wasn’t…I’m not very used to that.”

You bit at your lip, holding your breath.

“And then, when I saw you again you told me something about Dante and Beatrice. You said, he sees her as his savior, his light, his eternal love. Even if they weren’t together. It didn’t make sense before, I’d read Dante multiple times but I didn’t exactly understand the depth of love you could….feel for someone that changes you completely,” he smiled at you sweetly, “I do now.”

You could only stare at him,

“So…” he took a deep breath, “The lady who imparadises my mind. Will you marry me?”

You let out a teary laugh and nodded fervently, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you managed to say through a sob and he grinned, then stood up to put the ring on your finger, pulling you into a deep kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes.

“I love you so much,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes, “God, you’re….this is perfect.”

His smiled widened and you pecked him on the lips again before hugging him tight and you buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent.

You had been wrong earlier.

You would get to have your own fairytale ending after all.

Epilogue

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer #reid #twisted

1K notes · View notes

iwadori · 3 years

Note

hello! I love your works so much! Can I request an angst to comfort scenario for #21 on your prompt list?

“It’s my fault for trusting you”

Feel free to use whichever character(s) you like!!

When the haikyu boys neglect you for another girl PT 3

Part One Part Two Part Three Part four Part Five

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Akaashi

You and Akaashi were beautiful people

Probably the most attractive pair of young adults that anyone can find

You were both top tier models in the industry

You always had a little rivalry between you but you always promised each other to never let it affect your ‘relationship’

“Beautiful darling, your beautiful” praised your photographer as you finished your shoot giving you air kisses on your cheeks. You thanked him and the rest of the staff and entered your dressing room sighing.

“Rough day?” Asked a voice, startling you a bit. You looked up to see your boyfriend, Akaashi Keiji sitting in the corner of your dressing room on a love seat.

“Gosh Keiji you scared me” clutching your chest dramatically “But yes, the day has been tiring Fabio has really been overworking me lately” you complained. Akaashi walks towards you and gave you a peck on the cheek “Aww poor baby” he cooed mockingly, “but don’t worry ‘bout it Y/N your sucess will be all be worth it eventually” he says making you smile.

“and besides, you’ve got a shoot with me soon anyways” he winks, making you chuckle. You finished removing your make-up as Akaashi tells you about his shoot today and Bokuto’s (your fellow model friend) antics.

You and Akaashi first laid eyes on eachother when you were both up and coming models, you both are under the same company. At first, both of your agents decided to make you spend time with each other to push the narrative of you being a couple anyways. However, since you and Akaashi had great natural chemistry it made your relationship great and made for a great photo too.

As much as the public loved your relationship and the saucy photos you tend to make together, they also thrived of the slight rivalry you guys had together or the times when you guys bother shot with other people (since it was easy for a fan to make a new ship off of two people literally standing next to each other.)

You spent the next day having what you and Akaashi called a ‘rest day,’ you both specifically clear your schedules for every 2nd and 4th saturday of each month to not do any work-related for the day and just bask in each other’s companies (as you were both busy and barely got enough time to see one another.)

You watched multiple movies, made your own homemade cookies and dinner, had pillow fights, built forts. You both were having so much fun, until you both got a call...Just then, the vibe changed you went from your free-spirited fun selfs back into work mode.

Your agent told you that two brands *Insert big fashion designer brand here* and *Insert another big fashion designer brand here* were having some form of standoff. To be honest, you didn’t really care about the context of the shoot(s) in this case, as your agents call ruined your day. They wanted you and Tsukishima Kei, to do some competing shoots and promotional videos for their brand against the other designer.

After getting all your information from your agent, you go back into the living and see Akaashi sitting down thinking deeply about something. “What was your call about?” you inquire sitting down next to him.

“Oh just some silly designer brand competition thing.” he mindlessly replies, still thinking deeply.

“Yeah same. So what’s got you thinking all deeply then?” you ask

“My fellow model is going to be Kiyoko Shimuzu” he sighed, making you blink repeatedly before immediately saying “You can’t do the shoot”

Kiyoko Shimuzu was japans beauty. Everybody loved her, she’s been a model since she was a child everyone wanting a grasp on her looks. The guys wanted her, the girls wanted to be here. Kiyoko Shimuzu was a force to be reckon with.

The real problem at hand wasn’t her stunning looks, popularity and fame. It was her connection with Akaashi. Before Akaashi went big and met you, he was Kiyoko’s boyfriend (well ex-boyfriend now) and they broke up because of long-distance or something like that.

However, to you, Kiyoko’s feelings for your boyfriend have never went away. Whenever you guys bumped into each other at red carpet events or runway shows, she always seemed to linger a bit too long around your boyfriend, which definitely wasn’t to your liking.

Akaashi lifted up his head from inside his palms and looked at you as if you had grown another head. “What do you mean, ‘I can’t do the shoot’” he asked in disbelief

“I mean, you can’t do the shoot” you reiterated not understanding why he didn’t understand.

Akaashi sighs before putting his face back in his hands to think, “Well I know you got to the shoot aswell Y/N who’s yours with.”

“Tsukki” You said nonchalantly say as if it was nothing, making Akaashi look at you again as if you were fully crazy before he had a chance to speak you cut him off saying “Don’t even start Akaashi.”

You and Tsukishima Kei, have best friends since you were kids. You weren’t romantic in any way shape or form, well at least you weren’t. Akaashi always claimed that that Tsukishima was in love with you, that you and Tsukishima were the perfect example of every ‘childhood friends-lovers trope’ ever, which to you wasn’t true. Everything between you and Tsukishima was and still is completely platonic which you can’t say the same for Akaashi and Kiyoko.

“You’re not doing the shoot” he says firmly as if he was your father.

“Oh so you can do your shoot with your literally EX GIRLFRIEND, but I can’t do mine with my best friend... yeah make sense” you say standing up, astounded.

“Y/N chill, If you’re so adamant about me not doing it with Shi- Kiyoko, then I wont” he says pulling your arm down making you land on him “and you better not do it with ‘Tsukki’” he mocked.

“Okay so none of us are doing the shoots?” you ask looking up at him

“Yup” he says

“Pinky promise,” you joked sticking out your pinky in his face.

“Pinky promise” he agreed hooking his finger around yours.

For the next month it seemed you were booked busy, you barely got to see your boyfriend as his agent had him running around all of Japan and even had him booked in some places in Europe for this month. Of course, you missed him, but you understand how busy it can be doing your line of work. You’ve been quite busy too, doing the usual shoots and runways.

Although he was busy, Akaashi basically went radio silent on you. You still expected him to reply to some of your messages or at least call once or twice when he had the chance, since he must have 10 minutes of break time and that's the bare minimum.

It’s been two weeks since you last saw Akaashi (and that was on your saturday rest day) and you were expecting him to come over today so you could have another. Since of course, Saturday ‘rest days’ were basically a tradition for you and Akaashi before you even started dating.

You had no text from Akaashi explaining his lateness/absense, so you just figured he wasn’t coming putting a damper on your day. You spent the day lounging around and shoving your face with your favourite snacks and food.

You get a text from Tsukishima which read:

Tsukishima: 1 Image Attached

Tsukishima: Looks whose boyfriend stumbled on set...

You didn’t respond as you were shocked at the sight you saw, the image was a picture of Akaashi and Kiyoko on set doing shots for the *insert the other rich designer brand* the shoot that you both agreed you wouldn’t do, which was also a LINGERE brand.

You felt betrayed, you both agreed to not do the shoot and it’s not like you did do yours. You made sure to turn it down the day you made your agreement. And he skipped on your traditional saturday ‘rest day’ without even giving you any word of him not planning on arriving.

You didn’t know what to do, do you confront him about it? Or do you wait for him to approach you? Since he would plan on telling you about this right? You eventually messaged Tsukishima a ‘thanks’ and you decided how you were going to handle the situation. Pop up on Akaashi and Kiyoko at the photoshoot.

You knew where it was at, since you had the address already from when your agent first offered you the idea. You drove to the place in a breakneck speed, strutting in there like a woman on a mission (which you technically were.) You decided to wait in Akaashi’s dressing room, not wanting to cause a scene at the shoot which would be bad for yours, Akaashi’s and Kiyoko’s image and would be a waste of the time of the staff and photographer there.

Akaashi finally finished the shoot and entered his room with a sigh not realising that you were sitting in the corner of his room. “Did you have a rough time?” you ask mockingly making him jump and his eyes widen as you were the last person he expected to be there. “Why so shocked, you weren’t expecting me?” you still keep the same mocking tone in your speech.

“Y/N I-” He started

“Y/N what?” You interrupted “Y/N I’m sorry for basically ghosting you for a month? I'm sorry for doing a shoot with someone who I know is still in love with me? I’m sorry for lying to you? I’m sorry for skipping out on our rest day with no explanation on where I am?” you stare at him as he stares back speechless.

“Oh, am I missing something?” you continue “Oh yes ‘Y/n I’m sorry for doing the shoot that we both agreed that we weren’t doing’” you sit down and wait for him to reply.

Akaashi puts his head down in shame, not really knowing what to say. Because of his silence, you roll your eyes and get up fed up with his lack of explanation. Before you fully leave Akaashi blocks your way with slight tears in his eyes “I had no other choice Y/N, I had to do all those shoots and travel other places with Kiyoko because sh-”

“Wait, that’s where you were?” you shout “Gallivanting around the country with HER!” you extend your arm pointing outside the door before you turn trying to leave again.

“N-No No Y/N you’ve got to listen to me” he said putting your hands on my shoulder “She has something, on me and I-I couldn’t I can’t get out of it. It’s deeper than just a simple shoot.” You were confused but you were so upset you just didn’t want to hear it so instead of listening to your boyfriend you decided to say “you’re so full of shit Akaashi” making him gasp at your coldness and the use of his last name. “ but hey I guess thats my fault for trusting you”

You finally left the room and went to go get a breather for a second with tears sparking in your eyes. You leaned against the wall and whispered “fuck” frustrated with the whole situation. Making you jump, Tsukishima said “you should go talk to him you know.”

“What do you know Tsukki” he cringed at the nickname

“I know more than you Y/N, just go talk to him.” he said making you squint your eyes at him wondering what information he held.

When you walked back to Akaashi’s dressing room practicing an apology in your head. But you paused your arrival hearing Akaashi talking to the one and only, Kiyoko Shimuzu in his room.

“Let’s face it Akaashi, now that I’ve got this sex tape of us, I basically own you.” she said to him making your eyes widen.

You decided the smartest thing to do was to pull out your phone and record as much as the conversation as you possibly could. Because you could already tell Akaashi was in a bind.

“The next thing I want you to do is...” she continued acting as if she was thinking “break it with Y/N!”

“No certainly not Kiyoko, you’re going too far.” he said making you smile internally that he still defended your relationship. “Me and Y/N are definitely NOT breaking up.”

“Akaashi are you forgetting that I have something over you.” she pulls out her phone and she plays a video, which you can only assume is the sex tape. You can hear a bunch of moans and groans which made your stomache ache.

Tired of hearing this, you burst into the room and say “What the fuck are you doing Kiyoko”

“Oh Y/N how lovely for you to join us...” she said with a smile, “I was just discussing with your ‘boyfriend’ plans for our next shoots.”

“I always knew you were a bitch.” you say shocking your head at her.

“What do you mean Y/N?” she says with a fake smile, not knowing that you were listening in on your conversation “Actually Akaashi was telling me something he had to tell you... isn’t that right Akaashi.” you both looked over at him and he was scared and speechless.

“Oh you mean how you’ve been blackmailing him for the past two weeks...” you accuse

“You have no proof of that.” She taunted

“Oh do I..” you rebuttal then pressing play on the recording you just took watching as both Kiyoko and Akaashi look shocked. Kiyoko scurries out the room knowing she’s been caught leaving you with a triumphant smile.

You sit down, gesturing Akaashi to sit next to you. “Akaashi, I’m so sorry for not listening to you earlier I felt so betrayed thinking that you went agaisnt out agreement, but I guess I was just being a self-obsessed bitch” you say with you now looking down in shame.

“Y/N” he says with you still not meeting his eye “Y/N look at me” he lifted your chin up so you met his eye “It’s fine, It’s completely fine you didn’t know of course you didn’t know, how would you know of sex tape I unknowingly did back when I was 16!” he exclaims “Its fine, we’re good” he pulls you into a hug and kisses you on the forehead.

After you both calm down, Akaashi explains how Kiyoko started to blackmail him and how the agency loved the idea of them two being together (not the blackmailing) as it created a jealousy storyline between you and her and how every time they met she kept proposing ridiculous demands.

“Also, how did you know I ended doing the shoot?” he asks

“Oh a little bird told me” you tease

“You mean a 6ft2 bird with blonde hair and a shit personality.” he retorts making you laugh

“Heyy don’t be so mean, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t of came to save the day.”

“True, I’d give him that.”

Eventually, you and Akaashi go to your agency and present all your evidence and claims that Kiyoko was blackmailing Akaashi. Although they were upset, that Akaashi did partake in a sex tape they knew that they’d be an even bigger scandal if you presented your news that Japans sweetheart Kiyoko Shimuzu was blackmailing Akaashi Keiji. So the agency thought it was in everyones best interest if they got Kiyoko to sign an NDA saying that she will never bring forth or share the Sex Tape to anyone and she’ll agree to be dropped from the agency.

Your life was great now, with Kiyoko off your back and Akaashi being back to his usual self you couldn’t wish for anything more. You ended up doing the shoot persuading the design brand person (whatever the name for it is) to agree to let you do the shoot together instead of with other people. Both brands let you, because who wouldn’t want Akaashi Keiji and L/N Y/N to do a shoot together?

AUTHORS NOTE: this is the longest work ive written for a single character and i am TIRED lol..I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed my other works so I hope you enjoy this one.. to be honest I think with my works I start off strong and end shitly :// However I wanted to do something different today by making them models instead of students so I hope you like it. Now im off to read some fanfic so you guys have a good day!! <3

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu #akaashi scenarios #akaashi x y/n #akaashi headcanons #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi angst #akaashi fluff #signedwithane😌

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panda-noosh · 3 years

Text

the game {draco x reader}

masterlist

---

you’ve been tormenting the malfoy family for what feels like forever.

it’s become a kind of game at this point, a game everyone is involved in. the malfoys pretend they don’t expect your presence, and you pretend you are tormenting them because you don’t like them. it’s back and forth, back and forth, and you’ve been doing it too long to back out now.

it starts the same way every time - the gate is open, and they pretend it’s because they forgot to close it. nobody mentions the fact that lucius malfoy hasn’t forgotten a single thing in his entire life. nobody mentions draco’s blonde head peaking out from behind the living room curtains, waiting for the arrival of a person he claims to despise.

you stroll in with the ease of someone who owns the place, smiling and waving at the white peacocks that have become so familiar with your presence by now that they don’t even make a noise upon seeing you. they lift their graceful heads, and then they bow them again - it’s as simple as that.

you knock on the door, grinning even wider when you hear narcissa’s faux exclamation of, “who could that possibly be?” you know for a fact that draco has warned her of your presence already, that all three of them have been expecting your arrival since they woke up this morning.

and then the door opens, and narcissa stands there in all her glory. such a tall, graceful woman, and you tell her that on a daily basis, making her blush because you are her favourite little Mudblood, and she lets you get away with things like that.

you lean against the door frame, spinning your wand between your ringed fingers. narcissa glares at you without speaking, her jaw working as she inspects you.

“evening,” you drawl. “how are you today, my dear?”

her nostrils flare. “how many times have we told you to stay away from our home?”

“oh, plenty of times. i’ve quite lost count.” you straighten, craning your neck to see over her tall frame, into the hallway beyond. standing in the foyer, just as you predicted, just as he always does, is draco. you give him a wave before turning back to face his mother. “is he alright? i haven’t seen him much at school recently.”

“my sons wellbeing is none of your business.”

draco appears at his mothers elbow. “you can tell professor snape i’ve been feeling ill.”

you smile - draco giving you orders is moreso his way of answering your questions without looking like he gives a shit. you appreciate it, this code you two speak in, because in all truth, you do worry about the malfoy boy quite a bit.

you met him in school, your very first year at hogwarts. you were crushed beneath adrenaline, having found out about your powers only a few weeks before being shipped off to this strange and wonderful new school. you had a wand, and a robe, and there was a giant man ushering you into a tiny boat, ready to take you to the future.

and then draco appeared, and he knew who you were. he must have looked through the first year list, must have looked you up and realised you were a muggle-born. he did his research, and that was the first point of respect he earned off you.

“let them in, mother,” draco says now. “the elves made too much food anyway; might as well put them to use whilst they’re here.”

you give a mock bow. “much appreciated, malfoy.”

he snarls, before mother and son turn on their heels and lead you into the home you have become so familiar with these past few years. you’ve traced these walls with your fingers a thousand times before, and you do the same now. upstairs, you hear the elves marching around, putting stuff back where they belong, chuntering amongst themselves; silently, you wonder where lucius is.

draco and narcissa lead you to the kitchen, where stacks upon stacks of food are set up along the grand dining table. draco hands you a glass of water before gesturing to the plates and saying, “dig in. and be grateful we haven’t got the ministry involved.”

“the ministry?” you raise a brow, taking a long, loud sip of your water before continuing. “draco, what would the ministry possibly do? you’ve been letting me into your home for years - it’s starting to get a little old hearing you say you don’t want me here.”

draco blinks, startled.

narcissa steps in, grabbing the water from your hand and slamming it upon the table. “we don’t want you here. the last thing we need is some filthy mudblood knocking on our door at all hours of the morning.”

the word doesn’t even sting any more - it’s a wound that has been closed long enough now to no longer hurt. so instead, you smile and say, “very true, narcissa. i’ll have my water back now, if you please.”

narcissa growls, turns and walks out of the kitchen. she always does this. it’s become part of the routine.

you grab the water yourself and take another sip. draco continues staring at you, a habit he adopted only recently. you remember the first time he did it, the first time it was more than a glance, more than an accidental brush of eye contact between you; he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, those slim fingers tapping a rhythm against the expensive granite. you and lucius were chatting, lucius asking - yet again - why you’re here, why you can never leave them alone, why you aren’t at school. you were going to answer, but draco’s gaze was burning a hole into the side of your face, and you truly felt as if you had no choice but to pack it in early and go home, just to recuperate.

you’ve gotten better with it. you don’t have any plans of storming out any time soon, though his gaze still makes your face heat up and your stomach squirm.

“so, you’ve been ill, have you?” you begin. “i won’t lie, draco, you look pretty spritely to me.”

“i wouldn’t expect you to understand,” draco shoots back. “you should just mind your business.”

“i never asked you what was wrong. i was just saying - seems like you’re looking for a muggle excuse to get out of going to school.”

draco glares, though the expression has less effect now that he’s taken to never taking his eyes off you, no matter what his emotions towards you are in the moment. “i’ve told you not to call me that.”

“didn’t call you anything.”

“you called me a muggle.”

you narrow your eyes in faux confusion. “i said your excuse was muggle. don’t blow it out of proportion, mate.”

he throws his hands up, turning away for what feels like the first time since he laid eyes on you. “why are you here this time, y/n? what could you possibly want from us now?”

“i’ve never wanted anything from you.” you inspect the endless plates on the table. “although i will pinch a scotch egg, if you don’t mind.”

draco watches as you reach across the table, picking at the assortment of foods. you don’t break the eye contact, because that’s what he wants you to do. he wants you to show some sign of intimidation, some sign that he has wriggled beneath your nerves in the same way he manages with everyone else. you’re determined to show him you’re not afraid of the malfoys, have never been afraid of the malfoys, and that’s exactly why you’re here. you wanted something, and you were willing to go to the highest rank to get it.

“you know, if my father finds out about what you get up to, you’ll be sent to azkaban with a life sentence.”

you freeze, scotch egg halfway to your mouth. “so you’re bringing that up now, are you?”

“i’m just warning you.” draco shrugs, the sleeves of his black blazer stretching against the motion. “one day you’re going to walk in here, and he’s going to know. he’s going to see it in your eyes that you’re guilty.”

“he’s going to figure me out.” you scoff. “you really think the sun shines out of your father’s arse, don’t you? he’s not as smart as he likes everyone to think, draco. i’ve been running circles around that man for years now, and he’s none the wiser.”

“and what if i tell him?”

the room falls silent. your heartbeat rings in your ears. you hate talking about this with draco, because you never know whether or not to take his threats seriously.

he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re lucky i haven’t blabbed yet.”

“are you threatening me, malfoy?” you lean forward, lowering your voice to a purr. “why don’t you tell me the real reason you’ve taken two weeks out of school, hm? then we’ll both have stories to tattle to the ministry.”

draco pales. he glares at you for a moment longer before the kitchen door opens, and narcissa malfoy strolls inside once again. you straighten up, schooling your expression into one of immediate calm, like not a single thing is wrong. you pop the remaining scotch egg in your mouth and say, “i should get out of your hair now.”

narcissa simply scowls.

you give her a grin, nod at draco once before walking out the door, trying to ignore that blue-eyed gaze still burning into the back of your head.

----

it gets easier over time.

all of it does, really. the guilt becomes non-existent, and the act itself becomes second nature after a few good attempts. you’ve nearly been caught a handful of times, and you know if your actions were to come to light, you would be expelled from hogwarts in a heartbeat; not even dumbledore could show you mercy, no matter how much he likes you.

it’s easiest when the streets are full. muggles are so careless, clumped together with wallets jingling in their pockets, unprotected. they don’t even think about what might go wrong, don’t even think a wizard may be lurking amongst them, ready to snatch their belongings right from their person.

you don’t need it, of course. muggle money means nothing where you come from, but there’s some wizards and witches who would pay hundreds of galleons in trade for the things collected off muggles. it’s a black market kind of situation.

tonight, you are dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, wand stowed in your back pocket. you don’t need it; you’ve mastered the magic-free manoeuvres of sneaking things from people, and you use such skills to your advantage tonight. a man by the name of richard carpol has put in a request for a muggle passport - an irish one, preferably, but he’ll take anything you can get your hands on.

you search for what feels like hours before zoning in on the dark red booklet peaking out of a teenagers jacket pocket. their source of ID, you assume, and you feel no guilt whatsoever when you stroll past them and pluck the book free. you stuff it in your hoodie pocket before picking up your pace, ducking into a dark alleyway.

you flip it open - it’s a british passport, but richard will still pay. he’s not a picky customer, which makes your night ten times easier.

you make your way back to hogwarts, waving at people in hogsmeade before you disappear for the night. you sneak into the slytherin dormitory with no problems, stuffing the passport beneath your mattress. you wriggle beneath the sheets, ignoring pansy’s insistant questions about where you have been, if you’ve seen draco, how you managed to sneak past filch - she asks this every night, and you have never replied. you just fall asleep, another day successful.

----

“he’s back.”

like he’s some kind of god. you nearly roll your eyes, the whispers repeated over and over again throughout morning breakfast. all around you, the slytherin table is alive with anticipation, waiting for draco malfoy to stroll in through the double doors, head held high in that way it always is.

you knew draco was returning before anyone else did, as he told you the night before in a fit of faux rage at the sight of you in his bedroom, yet again. you had offered to leave, leaned casually against his mahogany wardrobe, and it could almost be considered hasty the speed at which he rushed for his door to close it, uttering a quiet, “no, you’re here now, so you might as well stay.”

but now he’s back in school, and you’re sick of him. you haven’t even seen his face once, but the whispers and the praise from your house mates is enough to set your teeth on edge. it reminds you that there is indeed a draco living outside of the malfoy manor, a draco you cannot tease and torment as easily.

“i saw him in the common room this morning putting his robes on. i think his parents got him new ones,” a fellow slytherin whispers. “and his hair has been cut a little shorter - he looks so grown up!”

you snicker into your porridge, smothering the noise to no avail. the slytherin girl singing draco’s praises shoots you a glare before noticing who you are; her glare folds in on itself, and she quickly retaliates by pretending she didn’t hear your snicker in the first place.

breakfast ticks by, and it’s only near the end does draco finally decide to grace the dining hall with his presence. the double doors open, and the chatter amongst the slytherins falls short almost immediately. you’re ashamed to admit that even you look up at the speed of light, catching one of the first glimpses of draco malfoy as he returns from what many people assumed was the dead.

his fangirl certainly wasn’t lying, you notice; his hair has been cut shorter, and he does look plenty grown up. he walks with a fresh confidence that makes you want to roll your eyes - it’s not like he needed a further confidence boost. his robes are clean, brushing the floor. his eyes are trained on the head table, though they linger there for only moments before snapping to where you are seated.

you raise a curious brow. he blushes, looks away, and takes his seat next to crabbe and goyle, both of whom clap him on the back like he’s just returned from war.

you ignore him the rest of breakfast, which is a rare action for you. you used to revel in tormenting him, coming face to face with him at every corner just to give another snide remark; it was a game back then, back when the two of you were younger and felt as if you could get away with it.

breakfast ends shortly thereafter, and you hurry to gather your things. swinging your bag over one shoulder, you duck your head down and escape into the crowded corridors, losing yourself amongst the sea of black clad students.

but you’re a fool to ever think you - of all people - could escape draco’s magnificent return to school. his cold fingers wrap around your wrist before you have a chance to turn the corridor to your next class, stopping you in your tracks. part of you wants to spin around and punch him, just floor him in front of everyone, show him that you’re not just some silly person showing up on his front doorstep every other night.

instead, you slowly turn and give him a smile, one of your big ones to let him know you don’t mean it, that you’re being hostile.

his face is set in stone, that frown so perfect and soft looking it makes you want to sob.

“where are you off to in such a hurry?” he asks, keeping his voice low because god forbid anyone catch him speaking to you.

“class,” you reply. “so kindly let go of me, malfoy.”

“not until you tell me where richard got another muggle passport to sell.”

you freeze, though you knew this would be coming eventually. richard is one of your best customers, but he’s not very bright; he’s never understood the concept of subtlety when it comes to the trading of muggle artefacts.

“he has a new one, does he?” you say. “good for him. his collection must be getting awfully big by now.”

draco scowls. “my father is starting to get very suspicious, y/n, and i don’t know how much longer i’ll be willing to cover for you.”

you pry your hand out of his grip, nearly stumbling from the momentum. “is that a threat?”

“it’s a warning,” he says. “i might not like you, but i don’t need you going down for something like this. people know we’re familiar with each other, and i don’t want you tarnishing my family name.”

you scoff. “your family name has been tarnished since you-know-who was in power.”

“shut up. don’t talk on things you don’t understand.”

“all i need to do is pick up a history book.”

draco scowls, those blues eyes ablaze. you’ve seen this look on him when he’s speaking to those gryffindors he hates so much, when a teacher takes someone else’s side over his own. you’ve seen this look on him plenty of times, but never aimed at you; for some reason, his expression is always so soft around the edges when trained on you.

“i’m trying to do you a favour,” draco mumbles. “because i’m serious when i say my father will snap you in half if he finds out you’re the one providing these artefacts to the dark market.”

“i’m not afraid of lucius,” you reply. “and i think you’re kind of forgetting the fact that your father actually likes me. at least a little bit.”

draco’s eyebrows fly up in amusement. “what’s given you that idea?”

“the fact that i’m still allowed in your house after all these years.” you grin, basking in the way draco’s own smile fades at the realisation you have indeed recognised this behaviour within his family. “yes, malfoy. you all try so hard to convince me i’m the scum of the earth, but the truth is, you appreciate my company. the truth is, you make me tea every time i visit. the truth is, you’re all a little fond of me, whether you want to admit it or not.”

his face pales even more, a feat you didn’t think possible until seeing it with your own two eyes. it’s a delicious win, a point for you in a competition you didn’t even realise you had entered.

“you’re delusional,” he mumbles. “you say you picked up a history book, then you must know how my family feel about your kind.”

“my kind?” you raise a brow, feigning ignorance just to annoy him. he hates outstretched conversations, especially with you. “are you talking about half-bloods, or pickpockets? oh! or people who can run circles around you without fear?”

you don’t give him a chance to reply, because quite frankly, you’re done with this conversation. you’re done with him for today. you prefer it when you’re in control of your daily draco interactions.

you turn on your heel and leave, rushing for your next class even as he calls your name. you can’t believe the nerve of him, approaching you like that, telling you to quit the job that’s gotten you off the streets, that’s helped you fund an education for yourself. these robes you’re wearing, the books you read in class, the wand that is an extension of your arm by now - all of it was funded by you, from your own pocket. just because the business is ruthless, not some posh, clean dealing that malfoy is used to, doesn’t mean it’s any less important.

you want to shove that explanation down his throat, just so he’ll finally look past his own privileged little bubble. you hate admitting it, but the truth is, draco wouldn’t be so bad if he wasn’t so blinded by his upbringing. he knows how to be nice - you’ve seen it before, experienced it before, though you never talk about those experiences with anyone. there have been a few times where draco has seen you walking past his house, soaked to the bone from the rain, and he’s let you in, warmed you up by the fire, placed a hot chocolate in your hand. he’ll insult you and call you stupid and claim he wants you out of his house as soon as possible, but he was still the man who made the move to get you out of the rain.

your feelings for draco are a jenga tower. built up to full form, but slowly, pieces get chipped away until the entire thing is falling, and you have to rebuild it and try again.

you don’t know why you keep rebuilding it after so many disasters, but as he calls your name at your retreating back, you can feel yourself already putting those blocks back together.

----

charms class really is a pain.

flitwick is nice enough. he’s patient, which is good, and very much needed when it comes to your skills in the classroom. you’re an intelligent person, always studying because you want to be the best. you love seeing the look on draco’s face when he looks over and sees you’ve got a higher grade than him. it gives you such a thrill.

but charms is your downfall, because nothing makes any sense. flitwick explains the spell, and the hand movements, and he leaves you to your own devices, and you always somehow end up messing everything up.

today, all you’re doing is tossing a pillow to the other side of the room. it’s a simple spell, a simple gesture, and yet you still manage to smash a window in the process. flitwick merely sighs, explains the charm again, and gets you to repeat the process until you’ve got it right.

it takes a while. you don’t like it when things take a while.

by the half hour mark, sweat is running down your face, and your teeth have been gritted for so long it’s starting to hurt. you throw your wand down on the table, rake your hands through your hair and say, “i’m taking a break.”

“please do,” flitwick grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head where a vase smashed into his skull, thanks to your handiwork.

you slump down on one of the pillows you have failed to charm and run a hand along your brow. it’s actually disgusting how much energy gets taken out of you from doing such a simple thing. it’s also very confusing, considering you’re able to master the most difficult spells in defence against the dark arts without so much as a second thought. why tossing a pillow to the other side of the room is getting to you is both a joke and a mystery.

as you pull yourself together, savouring your moment of rest, someone slumps down next to you. you glance over, an eyebrow raised at bailey o’boyle, a boy you’ve done business with a few times in the past. he was only dabbling in the black market at the time, too young to understand what it was actually all about, but you weren’t going to be the one to ward him off, not when he had a good few galleons with your name on it.

he looks at you now with a smile, big and dopey, just as it always is.

“can i help you?” you ask.

“yes.”

you wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. he just keeps staring at you.

you grit your teeth. “with what?”

“i need an electric scooter.”

you raise a brow. already the word ‘electric’ has got your attention, because that’s not something the wizard world is very familiar with. what bailey is doing right now is forming a business deal. you’re not usually a fan of bargaining in the middle of class, but since you have nothing better to do. . .

you turn, ducking your head and lowering your voice. “what the fuck do you need an electric scooter for?”

“to sell,” he replies. “i’ve got a man who collects them. he’s willing to pay big money, y/n. big, big money.”

you like the sound of that.

“i’m a pickpocket, you know,” you say. “it’s not going to be easy pickpocketing an entire scooter from a muggle.”

bailey shrugs. “i said i’d see what you could do. but if you’re not up to it. . .”

your eye twitches; you hate that phrase. realistically, you know this is far beyond your expertise. you steal wallets, and passports, and house keys, tiny things you can sneak away without detection. trying to get something like an electric scooter from a muggle without being caught is close enough to impossible that even the lure of galleons isn’t enough to convince you to do it.

still, of course you’re going to think about it. there are many different side streets in muggle london that you could go down, and if you do it at night, the shadows could be used to your advantage. nobody would even bat an eye if you wore-

draco grabs your wrist and pulls you from the floor.

you yelp, stumbling into his chest. he lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you’re more surprised at his strength than you are at his actions.

bailey’s eyes widen. he stutters, trying to feign innocence, but neither you nor draco are interested in him any more. you whirl on malfoy, shoving him away.

“what the hell?”

“what the hell, is right.” he grabs your arm. “come with me.”

you struggle against his grip, but truth to be told, you’re not really putting up much of a fight. you’re still in shock at how easily he was able to lift you, at the feel of his fingers around your upper arm.

he drags you from the classroom. flitwick being flitwick doesn’t even bat an eye; he’s probably relieved that’s two more students he doesn’t need to worry about.

in the hallway, draco finally lets go of you. you jerk away so fast your back hits against the wall. draco raises a brow, but he still looks furious. his nostrils are flared, his face is pale, and god, he keeps clenching his fists like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat.

god help you, you kind of want him to. just to know what it feels like.

“again,” you say. “what the hell?”

“i knew you were stupid, y/n, but that’s bad even for you.”

“excuse me?”

“you do realise blaise was listening to every word you and bailey were saying in there?” he shakes his head, jaw clenched. “i was trying to talk over you, but your loud mouth is quite difficult to ignore.”

you blink. firstly, wow. bargaining in class really isn’t a good idea, and you really should have known better.

but also, wow, draco actually tried helping you out.

you swallow and fold your arms over your chest. “i had it under control. blaise isn’t gonna do shit.”

draco laughs. “blaise’s dad is in the ministry, idiot.”

“stop calling me that. i’m smarter than you!”

“do you understand what i’m telling you, y/n? if blaise says a word about what he heard to his dad, that’s you done. there’s no getting out of that.”

a chill runs down your spine. draco glimpses the movement, and you swear his features soften slightly.

“i just can’t believe you were so careless.”

“why do you even care?” your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper. you kind of hope draco doesn’t hear it, but his eyebrows shoot up, and his cheeks gain a tiny red tint that lets you know he doesn’t really know the answer to that question.

you swallow, looking up to meet his eyes. “why do you care, draco?”

“because.” his throat bobs. there is a moment of hesitation where you think he’s going to tell the truth. maybe he’s going to shock the world and just tell the god damn truth, but then he clears his throat, pulls his shoulders back and says, “i’ve already told you, y/n; if you go down, you’ll tarnish my family name. i can’t have that.”

your insides wilt like his words are acid being poured down your throat. you laugh a little too loudly, a bark more than anything close to amusement. it’s so vicious, so filled with hatred that draco actually flinches away. in that moment, you want to give him a real reason to flinch, a real reason to be afraid.

but you don’t, because he’s the boy who pulled you out of the rain.

instead, you shake your head and say, “tell flitwick i’m ill. and don’t bother talking to me ever again. let me handle my own business, thanks.” and without another word, you rush down the hallway to the dorm rooms, refusing to look back at him. this time, he doesn’t call your name, doesn’t chase after you in that hopelessly stupid way you want him to. of course he wouldn’t.

you throw your robes off the minute you burst through the doors of your dorm. it’s empty besides a fellow slytherin’s cat laying on the bed. the black and white feline lifts its head at the sound of you, and you ignore it’s confused little mews as you scramble into your own bed, pull the privacy curtain over and bury your head in your pillow.

you hate him. you really, really hate him, and that’s not even an exaggeration. he’s the worst person you’ve ever met. he’s this tormented little shit who thinks he has every right to throw his anger at everyone else, just because he isn’t tough enough to stand up to mummy and daddy. he’s so desperate to stay in line with everything his parents say, and it’s ridiculous. it’s embarrassing. it’s a cowards move.

there are so many things you wished you said to him before storming off, but there’s always that moment of hesitation when it comes to anything you want to say to draco. you either have to check it’s not too nice, and even when it’s mean, you have to check it’s not going to actually upset him, because you don’t want to do that either. you don’t know why. you should spit in his face for the shit he puts you through, the confusion he makes you feel. and he doesn’t even care. he just carries on being a little prick, like nothing is wrong in the world.

but surprise, surprise, draco. not everyone can live a lavish life, worry free.

---

you manage to ignore draco for the rest of the day. it’s easily done, considering draco doesn’t like to make a big deal out of the fact that you two actually have history; he likes to pretend he associates only with people of the purest blood, the most talented wizards, ones that come from the old families.

but he can’t keep his eyes off you.

he knows he’s hit a nerve. the way his eyes follow every movement you make, the way his jaw ticks when you don’t even give him the time of day - he’s not a stupid boy, as much as you like to tell him he is. he can see when he’s upset you.

classes drag in the rest of the day, and it’s a massive relief when you’re finally released from the confines of lessons, free to do whatever you want. after stealing a bit of food from the dining hall, you head up to the slytherin dormitory; you like it best when it’s empty, when you can just sit with your own thoughts for a while. you need it today, because today you actually let yourself be a normal teenager, and you hate it. you hate the feeling of hormones and overreactions, but sometimes it’s hard to help it. sometimes you need to let yourself feel emotional.

alone in the dorms, you reach under your bed and pull out your handy box of trinkets. most of the contents are just things you’ve stolen that never found a home - a penny from a london sidewalk, an old napkin with a mystery person’s phone number scribbled on it, a black and white photo of a couple standing in front of the ocean. however, tucked away amongst those simple, boring things is a green emerald - one you stole from the malfoy manor a few years ago.

you got it from draco’s room, because you weren’t meant to be in there, and you wanted to let him know that you had, in fact, been in there. the emerald was stitched into the collar of one of his shirts, all expensive looking and wasted. you nearly scoffed at the sight of it - when would draco ever get to wear something so glamorous anyway? plus, the emerald looked far too heavy to be confined to a shirts collar; it would be very uncomfortable, you assumed.

that’s why you grabbed a knife and cut the stitching to shreds, plucking the emerald from it to claim as your own. you tossed the shredded shirt back into draco’s wardrobe, tucked the emerald into your pocket and then walked out, content with the knowledge that draco would be yelling at you in due time once he noticed his missing jewel.

but the yelling never came.

draco knew you had stolen it. again, he isn’t stupid. his shirt was shredded, and the jewel was missing, and it was obvious who had done it - the known pickpocket who was strolling through his house every other night.

he just never said anything, like he wanted you to keep it, like he didn’t mind it was in your hands now.

you stare at it, legs crossed beneath you. you’ve always prided yourself on how little you care for expensive things - you don’t complain that you haven’t got much, that you grew up poor, never able to afford the grand things draco has. but you still handle this emerald with so much care, flipping it round in your fingers, looking at every curve and delicate groove in it’s cut.

the dormitory door opens. you trust it’s just someone who’s eaten too much and wants an early night, so you don’t panic or falter. you listen to their footsteps patter across the room, the thump of their robes hitting the floor, followed closely by their shoes. you listen to their privacy curtain screeching open, their sigh of annoyance at something you can’t see-

and then draco pops his head round your privacy curtain.

you yelp, fumbling with the emerald. it slips from your fingers, however, and crashes to the floor at draco’s bare feet. he stares at it as you curse, an eyebrow raising, and you don’t even try and hide it. you just let him stare, arms folded over your chest, annoyance brewing in your stomach just at the sight of him.

finally, he slowly looks up. “mine, i take it?”

“good guess, rich boy. can i have it back?”

he picks it up and tosses it into your lap. you’re pleasantly surprised at his cooperation, but still keep that frown on your face.

“what do you want?” you ask, violently stuffing all your belongings back into the cardboard box.

“you weren’t at dinner,” draco replies. “i wanted to make sure you weren’t causing any more trouble.”

you scoff. “oh, trouble, yes. tarnishing the malfoy name. the end goal for us all.”

draco stares at you, lips pursed. his gaze is always so warm, a physical thing that makes your skin crawl. “that comment bothered you, did it?”

“nothing you say bothers me, draco. it just baffles me how you can be so dense sometimes.”

“ouch. that one hurt.”

you roll your eyes. “why are you here? i have nothing to say to you.”

“you don’t have to say anything. i just wanted to make sure you’re alive.”

“not like you care, though, is it?”

draco’s nostrils flare. his throat bobs, eyes tracing the length of your throat like he’s a hungry vampire. his lower lip slips between his teeth, the expression startling you. he looks like he’s trying to reel himself back, like some unwanted emotion is fighting for dominance in his brain.

“you’re really stubborn, aren’t you?” he asks after a moment.

“you think?”

“i still don’t know what i did to piss you off so much.”

you bark out a laugh. “no, of course you don’t. god forbid a malfoy is self-aware for once.”

he groans. “can you not just make things simple? why do we have to go around in circles like this? it’s a waste of time!”

“is that meant to be an apology?”

“how can i apologise when i don’t even know what i did?” he’s starting to sound desperate, like this conversation is taking the life from him.

you lean back, pulling the box into your lap protectively. in truth, you don’t even know how to word why you’re so upset - it makes sense in your head, but articulating it to someone else is just going to make you sound stupid, maybe even a little delusional. you should know draco by now, people will say. you should know what he’s like, that he cares for no one besides himself. getting upset over him showing his true colours is stupid, a waste of time and energy.

but you look into his blue eyes right now, wanting nothing more than for him to just understand. understand what, you don’t even want to admit, not to yourself or anyone else.

“you hurt my feelings,” you mumble.

draco inhales sharply. “i didn’t think i could do that. i never thought you’d let me.”

“well, you did. congratulations.”

“jesus, y/n, it’s not like i wanted to. what did i even say?”

you stare at him. he stares back. the ball will drop eventually, you know, because draco is smart, smarter than you’ve ever given him credit for. he examines your expression, and you watch the moment his eyebrows start to relax in realisation, the frown form on his face. it makes anxiety coil in the pit of your stomach, because maybe this is just a little too vulnerable. maybe letting draco figure this out on his own was a bad idea.

but it’s too late now. he draws back slowly, hands curled around the privacy curtain until the fabric is creasing and knotted in his fingers. “wait. . .”

“go, draco,” you demand. “i have shit to do. business to take care of.”

“y/n-”

“go, draco!”

he stares at you a moment longer before running a hand through his hair and walking out the room. you wait till the door is closed, and then you wait till his footsteps can no longer be heard, and then you throw the box of trinkets to the ground, watching the emerald slip across the wooden floor.

---

the streets of london always look a little different when you’re angry. a little more violent. a little more real.

muggle london in itself has always felt like a very hostile place to you, but when you’re angry, things get clearer. you notice the vomit stain on the curb, the neglected baby pram in the bush, the beer bottles smashed beneath window sills. it becomes a different place - it just depends on how you’re feeling.

tonight, you are angry, and everything around you is angry, too.

you just want a set of car keys, not the actual car. muggle car keys sell at a good price, depending on who you’re dealing with. nobody has requested them, and usually you don’t go out unless asked to do so by a client, but tonight, you just want to be out. you want to be away from the wizarding world. you want to cause havoc with your fingers in the best way you know how.

it’s busy. it always is. you can guarantee that almost everyone around you has car keys in their pocket - that’s why global warming is so bad. some of them even wear them around their neck, dangling from multicoloured chains with little souvenirs banging against their chests. those would be so easy to just rip off and run away, but you’ve decided to be subtle, which means your eyes are trained on the bulges in people’s coat pockets. so many of them, so careless.

a man in a tracksuit seems like the best option. you follow him for ten minutes, keeping your head down, before he finally breaks away from his group of drunken friends. he laughs to himself, stumbling just the perfect amount - he’s drunk, but not drunk enough to be falling over himself, which makes slipping your hand into his pocket a pretty easy deal.

you go for the kill, quickening your pace, dipping your hand into his pocket-

he grabs your wrist, and before you even have a chance to blink, you’re on the ground.

a gasp is ripped from your throat at both the shock and the pain that spears up your spine. the guy is yelling, stumbling back, and holy shit, if he doesn’t shut up right now, the whole of london is going to be on you.

gathering as much strength as you can, you roll onto your side and push yourself to your knees. “hey man, calm down. sorry. i thought you were my friend.”

“did you just try and rob me?” he yells.

“no! no, of course-”

“you psycho bitch!” he lunges for you, all drunken vowels and grabby hands. you have no idea what to make of his intentions, you just know you’ve fucked up, and you need to get out of here.

his hands slam into your shoulders, knocking you on your ass. a cry escapes you, but not from the pain. a tiny snap sounds from your back pocket, and you know without having to look that your wand has just broken in half - yet again. dumbledore is going to start getting very suspicious.

“son of a bitch,” you growl, before raising your hands. “listen, hey. i’m sorry. i’ve said that already. you need to calm down before-”

“before what?” he howls. “you kill me? are you threatening me?”

your eyes widen. “no! would you just-”

the man opens his mouth to say something else, but his words are sucked back in when a hand wraps around his arm and yanks him back. you wince at the sound of his head cracking against the tarmac, but you don’t get a chance to comment before draco is kneeling beside you, one hand cradling your head, the other resting on your knee. his touch alone is enough to spread warmth through your previously frozen limbs, and you hate that. you hate it so much.

you tug your knee from his grip. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“are you bleeding?” he runs his thumb along your bottom lip. when he pulls away, his fingertip glows with a red liquid.

“oh. i guess i am.”

“christ, y/n. do you ever just...” he closes his eyes, taking a moment to redirect his anger. it’s an amusing sight, and you almost smile until you remember you’re mad at him. forever mad at him.

you jerk your head out of his grip, too. “i’m fine. stop worrying.”

“clearly i have to, or else you’re going to get yourself killed.” he glances over his shoulder, where the drunken man is struggling to sit up, still slurring protestations. “by a muggle.”

“he wouldn’t have killed me,” you grumble. “although my wand is broke, so maybe he would have.”

draco’s eyes widen. you wave him off before he has a chance to chastise you again - in truth, you just want to get out of here, car keys be damned. hastily, you push yourself to your feet, wobbling only slightly, but draco must see this tiny action as a full-on collapse risk, as he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, grumbling curses under his breath. you’re such a pain in the arse, apparently, and god, he wishes he wasn’t stuck with you all the time, and he’s so baffled by the fact you’re still alive, it’s probably all thanks to him, blah, blah, blah.

you listen to him rant the entire way back to malfoy manor. you don’t argue his choice of location, because you can see narcissa standing in the doorway, hand over her mouth, eyebrows raised in genuine surprise, and you already know she’s got a cup of tea waiting for you in the sitting room. you almost smile, but that would ruin the effect.

she rushes out to meet you and draco halfway, immediately grabbing your face and tilting your head back and forth. you can taste blood on your teeth.

“what happened?” she breathes, but doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “draco, take them into the lounge.”

“oh, the lounge,” you coo. “you are spoiling me!”

“be quiet,” draco hisses, doing as his mother says. he tosses you unceremoniously onto the plush sofa, and you have to ignore the inappropriate thrill that shoots up your body.

narcissa appears not ten seconds later, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. you give her a grin, which she rolls her eyes at, even as she sits beside you and brushes your hair away from your face. you take a sip of the tea, smile in thanks, and then lean your head back.

“sorry about this.”

narcissa sighs. her breath tickles your cheek, smelling oddly of incense. “i don’t know what we’re going to do with you, y/n.”

“put me down.” you make a stabbing gesture into your arm and mouth lethal injection at draco. he purses his lips, clearly not taking the joke in stride. “i didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

“you’re always worrying us,” draco hisses, which earns him a sharp look from narcissa. he meets his mothers eyes and his shoulders deflate. he runs his hands down his face. “you’re just . . . always doing something.”

“i know,” you mumble. “sorry.”

“draco, don’t stress them out,” says narcissa, which surprises you; you’ve always known narcissa has a secret soft spot for you, but she’s always tried her hardest to keep it just that - a secret. yet here she is, combing your hair back, giving you a cup of tea, telling her son to treat you nicely. it’s like you’ve entered a different world. “i’m gonna go and make some calls. keep them comfortable, okay?”

draco nods, lips still pursed, forever displeased. you used to laugh at that expression on his face, but now it just makes you feel bad.

narcissa leaves the room, and then it’s just you and draco. you watch as he watches you, eyes never wavering, shoulders never relaxing. he’s got his arms folded over his chest like he’s keeping guard.

“i meant it, you know,” you say. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i thought it would be an easy job.”

“who are you doing business with now? bailey again?”

“no.” you look down, surprisingly shameful. “it was just for myself. i needed out of the castle, and. . .” you shrug. “you know me. i can’t do anything easy.”

he scoffs. “yeah, i know.”

“so i’m sorry.”

draco closes his eyes and rubs his temples. the rings on his fingers glisten beneath the fancy lights. his knuckles pop, the veins in his arms protruding. “please stop apologising.”

you blink. “alright.”

“you act like i don’t understand why you’re doing all this, but i do.” he looks at you, hands dropping to his sides. “just because i don’t have to do it myself, doesn’t mean i don’t understand. why else do you think i haven’t stopped you?”

your breath catches. you raise a brow, tilting your head cruelly. “you wouldn’t have been able to stop me. you think i’d listen to you?”

“yeah. i think you would.”

you reel back, jaw dropping open. “excuse-”

“you always act like you hate me, but you forget you’ve been coming to my house for years. you forget i’ve known you since we were eleven. you forget that i don’t just put up with anyone. i’ve had time to figure you out, y/n, no matter how much you like to pretend i haven’t.” he folds his arms and leans against the door. his hair is rumpled, along with his shirt and jeans. so casual, so unlike himself. “but earlier on, in the dorms. . . you surprised me with that one.”

your stomach curls. oh, good god, he’s bringing that up now. you’re sat here with a busted chin and a potential criminal charge, and he’s bringing this up. you could headbutt him.

despite your glare, he continues. “i knew you didn’t hate me, but i never thought. . . i never thought you liked me, you know? especially not-”

“don’t say it.”

his lips twist. “i have to.”

“no you don’t.”

“do you love me?”

your heart falls into the pit of your stomach, which is answer enough for you. love is such a strong word, and you could easily say no, that what you feel for draco is nothing more than a little crush. he’s got the nice blue eyes, and the money, and the perfect hair. he’s got a smile that lights up rooms. it’s a crush. you fancy him, and that’s all there is to it.

but love sounds pretty accurate. more accurate, actually.

you swallow. draco watches the bob of your throat, and you watch his. above your head, the massive clock ticks, ticks, ticks.

slowly, he reaches forward and swipes his thumb over your chin. it stings just a little, but you’ve felt worse pain, so you let him do it without jerking away.

“cat got your tongue?” he whispers.

you shiver. “i don’t. . . i don’t know what you want me to say.”

“it’s not about what i want. i was asking a simple question. just give me the truth.”

“you want the truth?”

he inhales, hesitates, and then nods.

“yeah, draco,” you whisper. “i think i love you.”

slowly, draco draws away. his eyes never leave your own, that frosty blue colour reminding you of the winter sky, or a cold december morning. you remember all those christmas’s at hogwarts when draco would stay at the castle, waking him up because you thought it would annoy him to have your face be the first thing he sees. you always commented on the dreary smile that played on his lips when you did that, and he would always say, “i thought you were someone else.”

but that dreary smile is returning, pulling across his face, and it doesn’t falter. right now, there is no mistake. his eyes are on you, and he knows it is you, the person who has apparently made his life a living hell for so many years. you’re the ache in his spine, the one he can’t wait to get rid of.

but you’re also the one he rescued from the rain.

you’re the one who cursed hermione granger when she punched him in the nose.

you’re the one who’s just confessed your love to him.

shit.

“don’t look at me like that,” you say, voice hoarse. “don’t pretend you didn’t know.”

��i didn’t know,” he says immediately, like he’s desperate for you to know he was clueless. “did you know?”

“kind of. i wanted to ignore it-”

draco shakes his head, waving a dismissive hand. “no, no. did you know that i love you, too?”

you open your mouth, but no words come out. your brain just short circuits, taking a second to catch on to what he’s said. that dreary smile is still playing at his lips, and you’re waiting for the moment it turns into a sneer, a mocking little smirk.

it doesn’t.

“oh right,” you mumble. “no. i had no idea.” you pause. “are you taking the piss out of me?”

he laughs, a rare and pleasant sound. he approaches you, kneels at your side on the sofa and cups your head in his hands. you melt into him, even though every instinct in your body is telling you to pull away, to run away, because this is nothing more than false hope. he’s playing a trick on you. you’ve annoyed him to breaking point, and now he’s found the perfect chance for revenge.

but his hands are so warm, and nice, and your cheek dips into his palm so easily, like it belongs there.

“you’ve always been kind of not smart in my eyes,” he says.

your eyes widen. “hey!”

“kidding. i’m kidding.” he chuckles, running his thumb along your lower lip. “but you’re not doing your intelligence any justice right now. i thought i was making my feelings pretty clear.”

you glare; he knows full well he hasn’t made his feelings clear. neither of you have. you’ve spent the past seven years pretending to hate each other.

he grins. “okay, maybe i didn’t make it so easy. but you didn’t make it easy for me, either.”

“i still don’t believe you.”

he raises a brow. “why?”

you shrug. “it just doesn’t seem possible that someone like you could fall in love with someone like me.”

his eyes soften. “wow. maybe you are not very smart.”

before you have a chance to protest, he kisses you. just like that, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, or maybe like it’s an action he’s been waiting to do for years, and now he’s finally got the chance. that’s what it’s like for you, this coil unravelling in your gut after years and years and years of ignoring it’s existence.

you run your hands through his hair, tugging on those pesky strands at the back that always stick up because he refuses to wear anything other than collared shirts. he growls into your mouth, pulling you closer, closer, closer, until your legs are tangled with his, and his fingers are tracing a line down the centre of your throat. he stops at the hollow, just to feel the bob of your throat as nerves spiral through you. he grins against your mouth, pulling away to see the shock in your eyes.

he’s so proud of himself. he’s made you a mess.

you smile awkwardly, trying to regain some amount of composure. he watches you, heavy lidded, one hand still clutching your knee as the other curls around your throat, just where your neck and shoulders meet. the way he stares at you, it’s like he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

“so,” you begin. “you’re worry wasn’t actually just for your family name, was it?”

draco sighs, plonking his forehead against your own. “no, y/n, it wasn’t. my worry was losing you. which i very nearly did tonight.”

“don’t be so dramatic. i wouldn’t have died.”

“you could have.”

“but i wouldn’t have, because that guy was drunk, and a muggle, and-”

“are you two arguing again?”

you and draco jump apart as narcissa storms into the lounge, wand clutched to her chest. her narrowed eyes are firm on draco.

“i told you to keep them comfortable!” she exclaims. “can you not put your differences aside for ten minutes?”

you grin, teasingly running a finger along draco’s spine. “yeah draco. listen to mummy.”

he growls, but turns to narcissa and says, “sorry, mother. you know how y/n gets.”

“yes, i know,” narcissa mumbles. “but they’re injured. now, let me take this phone call, and then we’ll set up the guest bedroom. can i leave you alone for ten more minutes?”

“yes,” you and draco both reply immediately. narcissa hums, and walks out.

draco immediately spins, grabs your wrist and pulls you to him, slamming his lips to yours. you laugh against his mouth, melting into the embrace for only a second before pulling away and saying, “she’s trusting us to behave for ten more minutes, draco. this isn’t behaving.”

“oh, fuck that,” he scoffs. “come here.”

you let him pull you closer, closer than you have ever been with him before, because you’ve always been so convinced he never wanted you more than a few feet away from him. suddenly, everything draco has ever said to you is reconstructed in your mind, every action, every little look.

you wonder if he’s doing the same.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfiction #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #hp fic #hp #draco x reader

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Nine

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence,

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Another chapter is finished!! I’ve got an idea but it’s SO DANGEROUS AND Y’ALL MIGHT HATE ME IF I DO IT BUT ITS SO TEMPTING AND I THINK I’M GONNA DO IT ahem anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/n 2: I’m posting this before work so I’ll reply to asks and comments when I get home tonight! Also, I’ve got the next part of Gangsta written up if y’all want that.... hehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How have you been adjusting to this new home?” Thor asks one morning, a smile on his face. You grin back at him, the weight of Acadia lifted off your shoulders as you take a sip of your tea.

“Quite well. Although Loki has been an interesting addition.” The raven-haired man looks up from his book momentarily and gives you a look, to which you only smile.

From the moment you entered the cottage you knew it would be good for you to stay here.

“Well, we are at your disposal. I will have to go back to Asgard within the weeks to come, but Loki and the Valkyrie shall remain here should you need or want them.” You nod gratefully, looking out the window and pursing your lips as you watch the women spar outside.

“What? What is it?” Thor asks, following your gaze.

“I want to learn to defend myself. To wield a sword and fight off an attacker.” Loki scoffs from where he sits, his nose still buried deep in his book.

“For what reason should a queen wish to learn to fight? You will always have men for that.” Your defence is up in an instant, and you clench your jaw before composing yourself enough to reply.

“I do think that considering both my upbringing and the way I have been treated in my new kingdom, I have every right to want to learn to defend myself. I have many reasons to want to defend myself, none of which concern you, however, if you had the slightest idea of all that I have endured in my short time as queen you would not question me wanting to learn to defend myself. I have been shunned from my palace because my husbands fear someone will kill me. My own husbands have brought me far more pain than I would like to admit. I have every right to wish to learn how to defend myself and I will not hear a word from you about the subject!”

His brows raise to nearly his hairline and he looks between you and his brother before burying his nose back in his book, which elicits a chuckle from the blond king.

“If the situation is so severe that I need be sent away for my own safety, I need to learn to defend myself.”

Thor nods, a strong hand patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“I knew there was a fire in you. I could see it in those eyes when you spoke of running from the Kings. I just needed to find it.” He rises to his feet and straightens his clothing. “Loki does have a special talent for pulling the fire from even the most docile creatures. But I will go speak with the valkyrie. They will be delighted to have a student to train.”

He leaves the cottage to interrupt the sparring outside, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the first piece of control that you will have over your life.

~*~

“If that will be all, You are dismissed,” King Steven says, his voice low and exhausted. The royal adviser bows then heads to the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I cannot help but notice the absence of the Queen. Where has she gone?” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten the question in the week that you've been gone, therefore they already have their excuse rehearsed and perfected.

“We simply have no use for her. If she cannot even bear our children then what use is she to us?” Comes Steve’s practiced response.

“We were instructed to find a queen who could produce strong heirs. Our wife cannot. So she is no longer of use to us,” James adds, his voice dripping in boredom as he looks over a document on his desk.

The royal advisor nods then excuses himself, bustling to his own office with newfound haste and purpose.

“It’s been a week and we are no closer to finding who it is than we were when she was here,” Steve murmurs after a long moment of silence, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their decision.

“I’m beginning to question whether it was a good decision to send her along with Thor. Especially after he threatened to make her a queen of his own. What if she were to agree?” James stands up and walks over to his husband, taking his shaking hands in his own and sighing.

“I would not blame her if she were to agree. We have treated her like a prisoner. I have... brutalized her and beaten her and I will never be able to repent. If she were to want him I would in no way blame her. He has provided her with a safe haven. She can confide in him and trust him in a way that she may not be able to again with us.” Steve sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We need to find who it is that has caused this and we need to make them pay.” James nods, smoothing his thumbs over the back of his husband’s hands.

“We will. But until we do, we must remain strong. The Doctor is recovering and when he is fully recovered we will ask him who it was that attacked him. We will find who is behind this, but we must be patient.”

~*~

“Again!” You raise your sword just in time to block a blow from one of the Valkyrie, grinding your teeth together as you push her back a step then swipe your own sword at her throat.

She hops backward, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You are learning, Your Majesty. But you still hold back. Why? You cannot be afraid to hurt us,” The Captain says, walking forward and looking at you closely.

“You must show no mercy. Not when you must choose between your own life and the life of someone who means to do you harm. You will fight and you will fight to the death.”

Your entire body is burning with the exertion but you hold your ground, raising your sword and ready to go again.

“That’s what I like to see! Now, we go again!” Brunnhild exclaims, a grin on her face as she takes her fighting stance.

It’s just over two weeks since you began your training and everyone is surprised at how quickly you’re picking up on what’s being taught, but none more than you.

You’re just stepping out of the bath, muscles aching with a new type of strength that the Valkyrie have been beating into you, when your eyes catch a glimpse of movement at the window to your bedroom. A figure clad in all black is moving swiftly away from the cottage and disappearing into the darkness of woods, the setting sun aiding in the camouflage of the person.

Thinking that it’s none other than Loki going to wreak havoc on some poor defenceless wanderers, you don’t question it. Instead, you get dressed into a soft Asgardian gown and start preparing yourself for bed.

You’re just about ready to settle down with a book when a flash of white catches your eye from the window. You hesitantly investigate, heart hammering in your chest as you see a letter tucked securely in the window.

You open it and snatch the envelope before it can be taken by the wind, then shut the window again.

The seal on the envelope is that of Acadia, and your heart is in your throat as you realize that this could very well be a letter from the Kings. You’ve no idea what it may say, and cannot decide if you are more nervous or excited as you open it.

The script is not one you recognize, but your eyes greedily devour every word, the smile fading from your face at what lies on the page in your hand.

Thor finds you sometime later seated on the floor, the letter gripped tightly in your hands and your eyes focused on a point on the wall.

“(Y/n?” He asks softly, knocking against the doorframe to try and get your attention. You make no indication that you’ve heard him.

He enters the room, brows furrowed as he sees what you’re holding. “What is that? What does it say? Is it from the Kings?”

It takes a very long moment, but eventually, you find the strength to speak. But even then your voice is a weak rasp.

“Did you know the truth? Did you hide it from me as well?” Thor is beyond confused as he approaches you, taking the page from you and reading through the contents quickly.

‘Your Majesty,

Do not ask who I am nor how I know where you are, just know that you need be more careful who it is you call your lovers. They have sent you away, not for your own protection but because you failed at the task they wanted you for. They have sent you away because you failed to bear their children, this I promise I have heard with my own ears. I know not what they have told you but it is what I have witnessed. They have said this directly and I have heard it with my very own ears. You would do well to stay away from them, for they are dangerous. But I am certain that you and your late child are more than aware of that.

Consider this a warning, your majesty, for I know you are unsafe. You must take care and be far more careful of who you allow in your court.’

“Loki!” The prince is in the room within the same moment, his eyes full of confusion.

“Have the Valkyrie secure the area and find me the man who sent this! Travel to Acadia and alert the Kings. The Queen is no longer safe here.”

You’re confused. If the kings have directly told someone this, why then is Thor responding in such a way?

Loki is on horseback heading towards Acadia only moments later, and Thor is leaving the room as soon as the Valkyrie enter.

Brunnhild crouches next to you, a frown on her face as she glances at the note on the floor, its words echoing in your ears.

“Do not allow this to scare you, Your majesty. Do not give them the satisfaction of that.” You scoff and shake your head at her, “it is far easier said than done. All my life I have been punished for ever speaking, much less standing my ground. I have perfected the art of cowering, for men wish to do nothing but hurt and maim all so they can gain power.”

She sits down and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You forget that we are all brought into this world through blood and through pain, your Majesty. We are the daughters of savage women. We are their savage daughters and we will act like it. We will bite and scream and we will take up space. We will not conform to their ideas of what women should be.” Her words are whispered into the still air of the room as if she were hiding them from any listening ears.

“Do not lower your voice for any man. Do not cower beneath them. You are a powerful being. One that can create life and you can also take it away, never forget that.” She pulls a dagger off of her belt and hands it to you, curling your fingers around the hilt before she continues speaking.

“You have the blood of goddesses and witches flowing through your veins. You hold a power that men could never understand. With every step we take, every time we refuse to cower... we honour our mothers, our grandmothers, and the ones before them. The ones who stood and fought and were torn to pieces. We will not be silenced. You will not be silenced. You are more powerful than that. You must remember your strength and your power. Do not let the men convince you that you are anything less than what you are.”

Your eyes sting and your throat gets tight, but she only hugs your shoulders and continues speaking.

“Your power is what scares them. Why else would they try to assert their dominance in such a way? But you will not fall. You will not allow them to treat you like that because you are the daughter of a savage. You are yourself a savage woman and you will act like it. Royal title be damned.”

You sniffle once, twice, three times, then nod, wiping your eyes just as Thor re-enters the room.

The Valkyrie take their leave and the King sighs, crouching down next to you and gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m so very sorry, Petal. You are no longer safe here. If someone was able to bring you this letter then I fear you are in far more danger than we had thought. The conspiracy against the Kings runs far deeper than any of us could have anticipated, and if we are to keep you safe then we must act quickly.” He pulls you to your feet and bustles around quickly, covering your shoulders in a thick cloak and packing a bag of your belongings.

“Wait, where do you mean to take me? If I am not safe anywhere?”

He tosses your bag over his shoulder and grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“The only place you will truly be safe.” You’re still quite confused.

“We make for Asgard.”

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