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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 2 months

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Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) - Chapter 2

Always Been You (Dick Grayson x Reader) Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 5030 Warnings: death, violence, fighting, bloody wounds, angst, infuriatingly oblivious love interest, slowburn Spoilers: Young Justice Seasons 1-3 plot partially, but it ended in 2022 so catch up.

Y/N Prince - miracle daughter of Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor - and Dick Grayson - first adoptive son of the Batman himself - have been best friends since day one. They went to school together, trained together, kept each other's alter ego secret from everyone else, and they founded the Young Justice alongside their friends together.

But as time progressed, Y/N and Dick grew up and Y/N found herself wanting more than friendship with Dick. But he never seemed to indicate that he reciprocated her feelings. And when Wally died and Dick abandoned the team, Y/N realised he never would. So she heads to the one place she knows will help her become a stronger warrior so that one day she can take her mother's place: Themyscira.

Two years after his leave, Dick reaches out to his old friends to help him with a mission. But when he finds out Y/N left too, he chases after her in the hopes to bring her back.

However, when the two finally reunite, it isn't as warm as he hopes. Not to mention Themyscira becomes under siege as they go to war against Echidna, the Mother of Monsters in Greek Mythology, and her army of monstrous children.

Will Dick and Y/N be able to put their past behind them and save the Amazonians' homeland? Or will they fall, unable to tell one another their true feelings?

~~~

(6 Months Later)

Dick Grayson looked up at the Carr family home from his car, apprehensive to open the door just yet. It was a nice home, and from the research Dick did, a nice family lived there too.

His eyes trailed to the apartment situated above the garage, imagining the people who were inside. How were they going to react when he told them what he was there for? Scratch that, how were they going to react when they saw him?

'Should I go take a nap or are you going to man up and go inside at some point?' Oracle's sarcastic voice came through the car's bluetooth.

Dick clenched his hands around the steering wheel. Barbara - newly named Oracle - was right. It didn't matter what his friends were going to say. He needed their help, and he needed to man up.

Dick finally unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. 'I'll call you when I'm done,' he said, then ended the call before Barbara could sneak in another witty remark.

He made haste running up the Carr's driveway, then up the stairs to the apartment above the garage. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he heard laughter and lively chatter that made him pause. An overwhelming sense of guilt and shame and longing surged through him. Was he really going to break up the joy beyond the door? Once upon a time he would've been glad for a party, for a break from work and his vigilante duties.

His mind flashed back to that first party him and his friends had in Mount Justice. It was Wally's birthday and he had been lapping up all the attention, especially from M'gann, who had made him a cake and had in fact organised the whole party. This was before Wally realised him and Artemis were meant to be, same with Connor and M'gann.

But Y/N had known, had even pointed it out to Dick as they sat in the corner just the two of them, watching everything play out.

'They're all so thick,' Y/N said, taking a sip of her lemonade, trying to hide her knowing smile.

'How so?' Dick asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. 'Can you not see?' She grabbed Dick's chin and guided him to look at Connor and M'gann interacting awkwardly but in a cute way, then Wally and Artemis "fighting", matching wit for wit with every snarky comment they threw at each other. 'Connor and M'gann are so into each other, and you could cut the emotional tension between Wally and Artemis it's so thick. They are all crushing hard.'

Dick watched the two couples interact a little longer and realised Y/N was right. 'Well would you look at that,' he said, turning back to Y/N. 'You're quite the observer, aren't you?'

Y/N chuckled. 'Dick, we've been best friends for three years now. If you're just figuring that out now, then you're just as thick as the rest of our friends.'

'Hey! I am not!'

'Are to.'

'Am. Not!'

'Are. To!'

The two fell into hysterical laughter, gripping onto one another so they didn't fall to the ground.

Y/N's smile came to him then, and the longing in his chest ached even more. She was more than likely beyond the door too, laughing and smiling without a care in the world. He suddenly had the thought that he couldn't go through with it. He couldn't possibly ask them - couldn't ask her - to help him. Not after what he'd done...

Before he could chicken out completely, he forced himself to knock lightly on the door.

'I'll get it,' M'gann's sweet voice called out to whoever she was with, and Dick prepared himself as he heard her walk to the door.

M'gann opened the door, and she was smiling, the remnants of laughter twinkling in her eyes. She was in her human form, but it had changed since the last time Dick saw her. Her ginger hair was now cropped just under her ears, and her features were sharper, more refined than that of a young adolescent. She wore a flattering white blouse and casual jeans, not bothering for shoes in her own home.

She was grown up. In just two years?

Her brown eyes locked with Dick's blue ones, and immediately her smile dropped as shock froze her face.

Dick offered her a small smile 'Hi, M'gann,' he said softly.

'Dick...' was all she could manage as she continued to look at him, eyes raking over him as if she were imagining things. 'What are you doing here?'

'Honey, who is it?'

Dick's guilt deepened at the sound of Connor's voice. The Superboy himself came to the door when M'gann didn't answer, and stopped in his tracks as soon as he laid eyes on Dick. But he didn't stay shocked for long.

Connor furrowed his eyebrows and stepped up behind M'gann, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. 'What are you doing here?' he asked icily, eyes solely focussed on Dick.

It hurt to see such distrust in his old friend's eyes, but Dick somewhat expected that. 'Nice to see you too, Connor,' he said, slipping into his casual, carefree persona easily. If there was one thing Dick was really good at, it was putting on a mask. 'I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd swing by. It's been a while.'

'Why don't you answer my question first before you start acting like nothing is wrong,' Connor suggested, his voice taking a deep threatening tone.

'Connor, please,' M'gann said, seemingly getting over her initial shock. She placed her left hand over Connor's on her shoulder, and that's when Dick saw the shiny diamond ring on her finger. 'He's our friend.'

Dick didn't think his guilt could worsen at those three words.

M'gann opened the door wider and offered him a small smile. 'Come in, Dick. We'd love for you to join us.'

Dick flashed her a grateful smile. 'Thanks,' he said as he ducked through the doorway. He then looked from M'gann to Connor and back again. 'Congratulations, by the way.'

M'gann looked confused for a moment, then a joyful twinkle flashed in her eyes as she looked to her ring, a soft smile gracing her features. 'Thank you, Dick,' she said. 'That's what we're actually celebrating. Come on, there is food and drinks this way.'

M'gann walked back towards the party, but Connor and Dick remained in the entrance, staring at one another.

Dick took Connor in. Because of his clone genetics, Connor never actually aged. Not physically anyways. He'd changed ever so slightly from when Dick first broke him out of Cadmus, only growing a centimetre or two every year or so. His muscles had toned more having entered his theoretical twenties, and but his face still held onto those baby features he'd had since being replicated as a teenaged Superman.

Dick sized himself up against Connor and shockingly found that, for the first time, they were looking at each other eye to eye.

Connor seemed to scan Dick, too, coming to the same conclusion that Dick had changed too since they last saw each other. Dick waited for Connor to say something, but when Connor was done he gave Dick a stone cold grimace then turned to follow M'gann.

'What a warm reunion,' Dick mumbled under breath as he followed Connor down the hallway.

The hallway opened into an open-floor plan that held the kitchen, the dinning room and the lounge. Dick expected a few more people to be waiting for them, but he only spotted Kaldur lounging on the couch, drink in hand. Being the vigilant person he was, Kaldur immediately recognised Dick and placed his drink on the coffee table as he stood up.

'Dick,' he said, teal eyes wide with surprise.

'Hey, Kaldur,' Dick greeted awkwardly, ready for the same cold treatment as Connor.

Instead, Kaldur's face broke into a warm smile as he manoeuvred around the furniture to make his way to Dick. 'Old friend,' he said as he embraced Dick. 'It has been too long.'

'It sure has, buddy,' Dick responded, returning his friend's embrace.

Kaldur released him, but kept his hand on Dick's shoulder as he scanned over him. 'Look at you! You seem to be healthy and strong.'

It was true. Dick had noticed he'd muscled up a little more since leaving the team, though still keeping towards the leaner side of muscular. He certainly wasn't has bulk as Connor, or Kaldur for that fact, who Dick noted also had more muscles and toned features. Kaldur certainly filled out the black button-up he wore. But, as it was with Connor, Dick was happy to see him looking directly in Kaldur's eyes as they spoke, not from slightly below as it had been since they were children.

'Thanks man,' Dick said. 'Been working out. I see you've been doing the same, Aquaman.'

'My King left some large shoes to fill,' Kladur admitted humbly. 'But thank you.'

'So you know of Kaldur's promotion, but couldn't contact him to say congrats when it happened?' Connor interjected from his place in the kitchen.

M'gann scolded him as she placed some plates on the dining table, but the mood had already changed to tense and quiet.

'Connor's right,' Dick admitted, addressing his three friends. 'I'm sorry. These past two years... I should've stayed in contact. I wanted to. But every time I went to, I convinced myself that you didn't want to hear from me. That it would be better to leave you all be while I try to figure out myself again.'

'Oh Dick,' M'gann started, walking around the table to pull him into a hug. 'Of course we wanted to hear from you. You're our friend and we missed you. But we understand that after Wally died, you had to take a break from everything.'

M'gann pulled away and then pointed an accusatory finger at him, looking extremely cross with him. 'But if you ever do anything like that again, I swear I will hunt you down and kick your sorry ass into another universe. Understood?'

Dick nodded vigorously. 'U-Understood.'

M'gann's sweet demeanour returned and she walked back to the table to continue setting it. The three men looked at her quietly as she went about her work, until Dick turned to Connor and said, 'Your fiancée is scary.'

Dick expected another glare from the Superboy, but he was gladly surprised when the dark-haired boy nodded in agreement, face slightly pale. 'You got that right.' He then shook himself out of his frozen state of fear to help his fiancée dish out their meal.

'Give him time,' Kaldur said quietly to Dick. 'You know how Connor can be with expressing his emotions.'

'Well, he's not as emotionally constipated as he once was, I'll give him that,' Dick said. 'Unfortunately, I don't think I have time.'

'What do you mean?' Kaldur asked.

Dick went to explain but quickly decided against it. Kaldur was in the Justice League now. Dick couldn't really explain what he was planning to do. Not yet, anyway.

'Forget I said anything,' Dick said instead, flashing his charming smile and wrapping an arm around his old friend's shoulders. 'For now, why don't you tell me everything I've missed. How is it being Atlantis' new champion, first starters...'

For the next hour, it was like old times. The four of them ate and laughed and swapped stories about what Dick had missed in the last two years. They recalled some of the good times they all shared when they were on the team, and Dick convinced himself for a brief moment that they could all stay like this. Happy, carefree, young.

But Dick had come to Connor and M'gann for a reason.

Once they'd had enough of dessert, Connor offered to wash up and Dick saw his chance.

'I'll help wipe up,' Dick offered, taking his and Kaldur's plates to the sink while Connor filled the sink with soap and water. Dick waited until M'gann and Kaldur were in deep conversation over on the couch that Dick decided to broach his intended subject. 'So, how is the team going?'

'The team is doing okay,' Connor answered flatly, never lifting his eyes from his work with the plates in the sink. 'I just try to help M'gann as best as I can. We're down a few numbers since your old man decided to take half of the Justice League and our team with him in his little stunt.'

Dick winced. He recalled getting the call from Tim about it about five months ago. It had been an orchestrated walk out from over half the Justice League and their protégés, all of them wanting to go back to their vigilante ways as the League and the team had become somewhat irrelevant. Those that remained never saw it coming.

'I'm sorry about that,' he apologised, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Just felt appropriate.

Connor looked at him briefly, hands pausing in the sink as he did, and then released a sigh of defeat. 'Don't be sorry, Dick. It's not like you had anything to do with it.'

'No,' Dick agreed, 'but I should've been there at least. I should've reached out to see if you were okay. We started this team together, I shouldn't have just left it all to you.'

'Well, I know the rest of the team would really appreciate it if you came back now,' Connor said, his tone hopeful. 'That is, if you're ready to come back.'

Dick's heart lurched at the thought of going back to the team, both with want and terror. He liked Barbara, he really did. But, if he were being honest, he'd missed being a part of something bigger than himself and his own agendas.

'Connor,' Dick started softly, looking to see M'gann and Kaldur still locked in deep conversation before continuing, 'I would love to come back. Please know that. But you should know I haven't just been idly moving about the place the last two years. I've been conducting undercover missions of my own with Barbara in relation to the meta-human trafficking crisis.'

Connor's eyes widened and Dick saw he was about to raise his voice so leaned in close and hurriedly whispered, 'Keep your voice down, please.'

Connor took a second to register what Dick had said before whispering harshly, 'What do you mean you've been working on your own? You should've come to us if you were getting involved.'

'First of all, I just said I had Barbara helping me, and secondly because the team and the Justice League are full of public figures now. The missions wouldn't work if they got involved. But I've actually come here to ask you for your help on a mission, Connor.'

'Me?! Why would I-'

'Let me explain. First of all, it'll be you, me, Artemis-'

'You've pulled Artemis into this too?! Where the hell has she been, anyway?'

'Would you stop interrupting me for one second?' Dick hissed, wiping up a plate or two before returning to the conversation. 'As I was saying, from our intel, Markovia's Princess Tara has been found dead. Killed by a meta human supposedly, and I have a sneaky suspicion someone has been testing on people with the meta gene, turning them into extreme versions of their meta abilities. I need your help to find out who. As I said before, I've convinced Artemis to help already, and I was looking to you, Jefferson, and Y/N to make up the rest of the team.'

Dick looked around the room, looking at how empty the couches were around M'gann and Kaldur and sudden thought struck him. 'Speaking of which, where is Y/N?' he asked. 'I would've thought she'd be here celebrating the good news.'

He'd forgotten to keep quiet that time, and so Kaldur and M'gann looked at him alongside Connor, all looking as if Dick had sprouted three heads.

'What?' Dick asked, patting around his face. 'Do I have sauce on my face?'

'You don't know?' M'gann asked, sounding almost on the brink of tears.

That's when Dick realised something was majorly wrong, and his gut twisted with fear. 'Know what? Where's Y/N?'

'Y/N, she...' Kaldur started, then took a deep breath before continuing, 'Y/N left the team, Dick.'

'What?' Dick said, almost dropping the plate he held. 'What do you mean she left?'

'She left about six months ago,' Connor answered, washing up the last plate and emptying the sink. 'Before everyone else left. She felt like she wasn't doing enough with us anymore, so she just... left.'

'I've sent her plenty of messages,' M'gann said, 'but she hasn't answered any of them. And I can't sense her at all in the country. Even the Watchtower couldn't find her.'

Dick couldn't believe this. Y/N was gone? 'So Wonder Woman doesn't even know where she is?'

'Wonder Woman has been busy running the Justice League since Batman resigned,' Kaldur answered. 'Even if she did know where her daughter was, I don't think she'd like us to know, and I would have to agree.'

'Why?' Dick asked, suddenly very angry at Kaldur for not being as concerned as he was about Y/N. 'Do you know where she is?'

Kaldur shook his head. 'Regrettably, no. But when we last spoke, she sounded like she didn't want to be found. That she would come back to us when she was ready. I think we should respect that.'

Dick shook his head in disbelief. 'No, that's not like Y/N. She wouldn't just leave anywhere without telling anyone.'

'What, you mean like you?' Connor asked, and that cold stare was back.

'I mean she is loyal and empathetic. Surely she would know how her absence would affect the team,' Dick continued, ignoring the personal dig.

'She was loyal, Dick,' Connor countered. 'She was loyal, and stuck around with M'gann, Kaldur and I until the team got back on its feet. She held the team together when we were on the brink of falling apart. But you wouldn't know that because you weren't here.'

Dick wanted to argue but found that he couldn't. What he had thought was the best for the team turned out to be the complete opposite. He could sense it now; his relationships with his oldest friends were no longer as they were.

'You were gone for two years,' Connor continued. 'You'd be surprised as to how much a person can change in that time.'

The day Dick left flashed in his mind, and he recalled the pain in Y/N's eyes when he left her behind. He remembered how she'd held it together, but he knew she would probably cry about it later because she'd done it some many times before, always going to him to cry on his shoulder.

But he wasn't there that time. He'd left her all alone to dry her tears.

You're my best friend. Always have been. Always will be...

Dick looked to his friends again, but they could barely meet his eyes. Kaldur was disappointed, Connor was angry, and M'gann was just sad. An apology bubbled up in Dick's throat, but he didn't think it was sufficient enough for what he had done to them.

'I have to find her, then,' Dick said into the quiet room, and finally they all looked to him.

'Did you not just hear Kaldur?' Connor asked. 'We should leave her alone like she wants.'

'We don't necessarily know that,' Dick countered. 'Besides, this isn't about bringing her back. This is about me making things right with her.'

'But what if Kaldur is right?' M'gann argued. 'What if she doesn't want to be found. Maybe the right thing to do is leave her alone?'

Dick shook his head. 'She's my best friend, M'gann. I can't accept that she wouldn't want to see us ever again.'

'Maybe she doesn't want to see you, have you considered that?' Kaldur asked, his voice taking on a protective demeanour. 'The bottom line is, Dick, that you left her behind without a second thought. And she respected that, even if it killed her inside knowing that you would rather abandon her - abandon us - than face the pain of losing Wally together. She missed you every single day, and yet she still fought and trained and guided the team without faltering. And now, when she finally finds the courage to do what's best for her for once, you want to shame her for it?'

Anger surged through Dick, fiery and hot. 'I am not shaming her for anything. Do you not think I didn't think of you all every single day?'

'If you did, you didn't do anything about it, did you?' Connor mumbled, but Dick heard him just fine.

'Look, if you guys don't want to help me find her, fine,' Dick said, looking at all three friends pointedly. 'But I will find her. Because she needs to know that she was right. That I was wrong to leave and I am a terrible best friend.'

His expression softened as he looked down at his hands, imagining how long ago him and Y/N would link their pinkies. How simple friendships were back then.

'If she never comes back,' he continued, quieter this time, 'then I won't blame her. But best friends don't give up on each other.'

It was quiet for what felt like an eternity. Until Kaldur walked up to Dick and grabbed his shoulder comfortingly.

'You may be a terrible best friend,' Kaldur said, a small smile warming his face. 'But that doesn't mean your heart isn't in the right place.'

'Thanks, Kaldur,' Dick said, patting Kaldur's hand upon his shoulder.

Kaldur dropped his hand and the four of them sat down on the couches. 'Y/N didn't tell me where she was going,' Kaldur started, 'just that she needed to find out who she was again.'

'I don't follow,' Dick said.

Kaldur chuckled. 'Don't worry, I said the same thing to her when she told me. But she also said something along the lines of, "I need to find out where I've come from to find out where I will go.".'

'What the hell does that mean?' Connor asked.

'Again, not sure. But when I asked her the same question, she said she had to go back to her roots,' Kaldur elaborated. 'Something to do with where it all started. And her mother...'

Dick contemplated all of Kaldur's recollections, juggling each statement over one another to try and make sense. It was so vague, but Dick could sense there was a blatant truth staring right at them if they just looked hard enough.

Where it all began... Where she's been... Her mother...

The answer hit Dick like a brick wall.

'Themyscira,' he said softly, then more confidently. 'She's gone to Themyscira.'

'The Island of the Amazons?' M'gann asked. 'Are you sure?'

Dick nodded. 'It has to be. That's where Wonder Woman is from, and Y/N mentioned all the time when we were kids how much she wanted to go visit it one day.'

'But isn't it hidden?' Connor interjected. 'I mean, that's why they haven't gone back right? Anyone who leaves the island can never find it again.'

'Wonder Woman must've had something to help her remember,' Kaldur offered. 'Or at least guide her back home. I would suggest we go ask her, but again, I doubt she would tell us anything.'

It was like nothing had changed. The four of them had slipped back into theorising and planning and bantering as if no time had passed, as if no one had left or been promoted. It warmed Dick's heart at the thought that they all wanted to help find Y/N, even bring her home.

But Dick shook his head in dismissal. 'You guys don't have to worry yourselves over this. It sounds like I'm part of the reason she left in the first place, so it's my responsibility to find her and make this right on my own.'

'While I agree that this is partially your fault,' Connor said, earning a slight slap from M'gann beside him that he barely flinched at, 'Y/N's our friend too. The least we can do is help you find her.'

Dick smiled gratefully at his friend, who gave him a nod in return which was a start. 'Okay then...' Dick brought his watch up in front of his chest, clicked a few buttons before bringing up a large holographic screen with Barbara on it. 'Can you see us, Babs?'

'In quality HD, as well,' Barbara replied with a witty smile. 'Now, what can Oracle do for you?'

'We're trying to find Themyscira,' Dick explained. 'But it's not on any maps that we know of. Anything in any history records? Sailor sightings while out at sea?'

'You're asking me to find a mythical island from greek mythology that is meant to be hidden from Man's World and is forgotten by any who leave it?' Barbara asked incredulously, but then began typing ferociously on her end. 'Yeah, sure. No problem.'

Dick and the others waited in silence as Barbara worked her magic, files and maps and illustrations of the island popping up all over the screen around her face. After a minute or two, she spoke again.

'Okay,' she began, 'according to maps, you're right, the place doesn't exist. Even old sailors from Ancient Greece don't have any records of the place. However, I did find some similar tales being published in short stories of greek mythology and sailing journals. And all of them mention a couple of times sailing near what has now become the mouth of the modern Terme River in what we now know as Turkey, and having a strange sensation wash over them about danger. Each and every one of them have been convinced there is danger ahead and have turned away.'

'But they're just stories,' Kaldur argued. 'How can you be sure that what they speak of is the Island of the Amazons?'

'Ease up, Aquaman. I'm getting there.' A few more clicks and taps and Barbara brought up a picture of a very odd looking fish. 'Do you recognise that at all?'

Kaldur stared at the fish for a moment, contemplating its odd structure. 'I don't recognise it as a species,' Kaldur said. 'But I do recognise parts of it. It is like... different fish species have been spliced up and put back together to form this.'

'Exactly,' Barbara said, tap and clicking fervently again. 'This is a fish that has been found not near Turkey but close enough, and on multiple occasions. Now, if we isolate all these fish types... and then map out where each species usually resides... then find the crossover point for all of them...'

Dick watched diligently as Barbara isolated the fishes, highlight on the world map which species resided where, then drew lines horizontally and vertically, then zoomed in on the section the two lines crossed over.

'And there you have it,' Barbara offered proudly. 'The mouth to the Terme River in Turkey. You're welcome.'

'That makes sense,' M'gann said, looking up at the map, intrigued. 'If Themyscira is supposedly this pocket of space no human can find, then it makes sense that sea creatures of different genetic combinations would be able to breed there in peace, more than likely living there except for the stray pod or two that wander off into the open ocean.'

'I would have to agree,' Kaldur said, fascinated by it all as well. 'Who knows how many sea creatures live in harmony there.'

'Well, I'll be sure to find out when I get there,' Dick said as he stood up. 'Thanks Babs.'

'Any time,' she said, then the call ended.

'Wait, you're leaving now?' M'gann asked as Dick made his way to the front door.

'This cannot wait, M'gann,' Dick insisted, opening the front door. 'I have to speak with her as soon as possible.'

'Hey.' Dick was forced to stop when Connor grabbed him by his bicep, bringing the two of them close enough Dick could feel Connor's breath on his cheek.

'Are you really doing this for Y/N's sake, or for yours?' Connor asked in a hushed voice. 'Because whatever mission you think you need her for, I can assure you it cannot be more important than your friendship. Do you understand?'

Dick didn't quite understood what he meant, but he nodded anyways, and Connor let him go.

M'gann and Kaldur stepped up beside Connor as Dick made his way down the apartment stairs and back to the car. M'gann wrapped her arms around Connor's waist as he embraced her with one arm over her shoulder.

'Good luck, old friend,' Kaldur called out. 'May your journey be safe and successful.'

Dick chuckled as he waved farewell. 'I know you've always been well-spoken, but is it now a job requirement as Aquaman to sound like Gandalf?'

Kaldur pulled a face that Dick and M'gann laughed at, and Connor cracked a smile at the slight burn. Before he could psyche himself out of it, Dick hopped in the car and took off towards Wayne Manor.

'Call Alfred Pennyworth,' Dick spoke loud and clear, and the car immediately began ringing.

After a few rings, Alfred promptly answered the phone. 'Master Dick, what a pleasant surprise.'

'Hey, Alfred. Is the Batwing free at the moment?'

'I've just given it a deep clean now. Why?'

'Excellent. Could you please prepare it for take off by the time I reach the Manor? I have a little excursion I have to go on.'

'Will that excursion bring the Batwing back in one piece, Master Dick?'

'...I'll be there in twenty.'

Dick promptly ended the call, not waiting to hear a scolding from Alfred. Those were never fun.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to expect when he went to Themyscira. But Steve Trevor did it once, surely it could be done again.

Either way, it was a risk Dick was willing to take to get his best friend back.

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

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bosbas · 6 months

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Chapter 4: the more that you say, the less I know

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, alluding to sex but no one actually talks about it

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You're struggling to find someone you're as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: ummmm if you saw me change this from OFC to reader insert... no u didn't<3 also me making an f1 reference teehee i couldn't help myself

May 23, 1814 - At yesterday's ball hosted by the illustrious Cowper family, one could not help but notice Miss Cressida Cowper, whose ethereal gown left onlookers in awe. Rumors abound that the delicate fabric, allegedly from the Far East, lent an air of exotic allure to her ensemble. However, the discerning eye might notice a subtle familiarity. A striking resemblance, one might say, to a certain gown worn by Daphne Bridgerton, now Duchess of Hastings, in the previous season. Perhaps the secrets of this so-called rare silk are not as elusive as the Cowpers would have us believe.

Despite the "exotic" nature of Miss Cowper's dress, Miss Y/N Beaumont took center stage in the Cowper's ballroom. Miss Beaumont has seamlessly transitioned from the limelight of debutante to the darling of London society. But last night saw a notable shift in Miss Beaumont's approach to the season. Despite numerous suitors vying for her favor, Y/N spent most of her time in the company of her dear friend, Penelope, and the comforting presence of her mother, Countess Beaumont. Was the ton's selection of gentlemen not up to Miss Beaumont's standards?

A deep sigh left your lips. You crumpled up Lady Whistledown's column and placed it on your bedside table, already feeling a headache coming in. The previous night's ball had been somewhat of a disaster for you, and you were doing well not to think about it too much. You didn't know what was wrong with you. All the boys had been perfect gentlemen, some even making you laugh. Yet, the aftermath of each dance left you feeling disheartened, a sentiment you couldn't easily shake off. At least Lady Whistledown hadn't mentioned that your dance card was populated only with the names of Colin and Anthony Bridgerton. It would have also included your brothers' names had they not been away on some hunting escapade.

Realistically, you knew you should be disappointed that only a handful of hopeful bachelors showed up to see you today, bouquets and poems in tow, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to feel bad. Truthfully, you just missed Ben. He had been gone for about five days now, and you were pretty miserable without him by your side. The gnawing sensation in your stomach, an instinctual search for him in a crowd only to be met with the reality of his absence, had become an inconvenient routine.

Ben was consuming your thoughts. Your best friend had been gone for days at a time before, but this time was different. You missed the sly smiles he sent your way when one of your brothers said something particularly preposterous. You missed his rambling about art while you had your head comfortably in his lap. You missed his small touches, a hand on the small of your back, or a bump of your shoulders when he sensed you needed reassurance. But most of all, you missed having him nearby, feeling the warmth and comfort of his glowing presence. Perhaps with Benedict by your side, you would have navigated the challenges of the ballroom last night more successfully. Surely, he would notice his best friend feeling anxious and uncomfortable, ready with a witty remark to make you smile and dispel your nerves. But he hadn't been there, and you had floundered trying to connect with men who sought different things in a marriage. You were feeling especially tender tonight, a painful mix of anger, disappointment, and frustration plaguing you. You were surprised by how quickly the novelty of your debut had worn off, and you were left with a gaping Benedict Bridgerton-sized hole in your heart.

In your childhood, the two of you dreamed up a future together, one where you could pursue your literary passions, and Ben could lose himself in his art. Those innocent dreams felt like distant echoes now, and how you yearned for the excitement with which you drafted these plans. To you, that was still the perfect partnership. But none of the gentlemen you had met so far shared an even remotely similar vision. A small part of you secretly wished Benedict was ready to marry, or better yet, ready to marry you. But reality dictated otherwise. Benedict had likely moved on, envisioning a new definition of marital bliss, leaving you with an aching heart and a future devoid of prospects.

A particularly unpleasant train of thought came to your mind, and you found yourself wondering how Benedict was coping. Surely the countryside was a more pleasant experience than the stuffy ballrooms of the ton, but as he was out enjoying the fresh air, did his thoughts circle back to you? Did he regret missing your debut? Or were you merely an afterthought in his countryside musings?

A knock on your door interrupted your swirling thoughts, momentarily diverting the chaos within your mind. You smiled upon seeing your mother's soft features peek through the door.

"Hello, Mum. Is everything alright?"

"I believe I should be asking you that, actually," Countess Beaumont replied carefully, making her way over to your bed. Of course, Primrose had noticed the astounding lack of gentleman callers at their home this morning, a phenomenon you couldn't attribute to your elder siblings dissuading potential suitors.

In turn, you were feeling an acute uneasiness. You knew this conversation would come, but you were not prepared in the slightest. Questions about your altered demeanor had you nervously wringing your hands, avoiding your mother's gaze. Sensing her daughter's distress, Primrose sat beside you, holding your hands and gently squeezing them in hers. The comforting gesture stilled you and brought your eyes to finally meet your mother's.

"I apologize; I did not mean to–" you began, then cleared your throat, changing your answer. "When you met Father, you were both completely enamored since the beginning, correct?"

"Well, perhaps not the very beginning. But after one conversation, yes." Prim laughed, remembering her first meeting with her husband.

"Exactly. I just don't think I'll have something like that. And I know you wanted me to find a love match, but for the life of me, I haven't found someone I'm compatible with, let alone someone who wants to have an actual conversation with me!"

Primrose probed further with utmost tenderness in her voice, mindful of your vulnerable state. "Is that what worries you? Not finding someone right away?"

You sensed that your mother hadn't come to reprimand you for turning away almost all eligible bachelors the night before, or at least, that was no longer the primary intention. No longer feeling defensive, you began articulating your tumultuous thoughts.

"Partially. Lady Whistledown has certainly done me no favors. She set the bar up so high that now if I don't find someone incredible or appropriately titled or very quickly, I fear the whole ton will be disappointed. Lady Whistledown will certainly make her disappointment known. But my life is not a plot line to be used for the ton's gossip sheet. At least not to me. As a woman, choosing who to marry is the most crucial choice I can make about my future, and the only one I will be able to make at all if I marry the wrong person."

Your throat was growing impossibly tight, and your headache was worsening as you tried to assuage the rising anxiety deep in your chest. "I am terrified of squandering this opportunity, of choosing the wrong person and ending up miserable and bored, of not being able to find love so soon and disappointing you and Father–" You cut yourself off with a sob, tears freely running down your reddened cheeks now. Your mother held you in her arms, waiting for the tears to subside before offering reassurance.

After a moment, the countess gently broke the silence, "Those are all very reasonable fears. I was your age when I met your father, but before then, I was feeling very similar to you. Granted, there was no Lady Whistledown sheet at the time, but the ton's gossip still spread with astonishing speed. Darling, believe me, there's nothing to fear. It's more than acceptable if you haven't found a suitable match yet. In fact, it's quite expected. Your father and I were unique, but most connections take time to develop."

Although you now felt much calmer, lingering anxieties still circled your mind. "But what if there is no connection? I haven't felt anything at all with anyone I've talked to so far, so how can I build a marriage from that?"

A sympathetic smile grew on your mother's lips. "That's quite alright. If you don't find a match this year, you can try again next season. But consider you and Benedict, for instance. Two completely opposite children were brought together because you were left out when both families got together. Now you're best friends, practically inseparable," she replied.

You looked on thoughtfully, once again losing yourself in thoughts of your childhood promises to Ben. Pushing the painful thoughts away and tucking them into a small corner of your brain, you continued your questioning.

"I suppose. But I truly can't imagine marrying anyone I met at the Cowper's ball or even anyone at Queen Charlotte's ball. And last night, I heard Alex commenting on the 'night of the marriage' like it was some big event, so now there's one more thing I must worry about when looking for a husband."

Prim felt her heartbeat falter, shock and fury coloring her features. "The wedding night? Alex said this to you?" she managed to eke out.

Sensing you had ventured into uncomfortable territory but unsure where, you hastily responded, "No, no, I overheard him talking about it with someone else. I don't even know what the marriage night is or why it's so important."

Prim let out a breath, somewhat calmed. However, relief was short-lived as you probed further into the details of the marriage night. The countess was frozen, unprepared for this topic, especially so early in the season. But her nervous energy only fueled your curiosity.

After a faltering attempt to form a coherent sentence, Prim cleared her throat and tried again. "The marriage night is an... intimate moment between a married couple. If you marry the right man, which I am sure you will, it will be very enjoyable indeed. Fun, even, so it is nothing to worry about."

"But what happens exactly?" you pressed, curiosity undiminished.

With a sense of finality, your mother responded, "Y/N, I know you have a curious mind, but it is too early for you to know the intricacies right now. The night of the marriage is a wonderful thing for a couple to experience, and that is the only thing you need to know. For now, enjoy the butterflies and keep being excited about your season. There is still much to look forward to. Like Alexander said, the men are there to court you, not the other way around. I apologize if I got a bit overexcited initially, but trust that we are all here for you and will support whichever decision you make." And with that, the subject was closed, and you sensed that further inquiries would only irritate your mother instead of answering your endless questions about this new concept.

---

"Ben!" came your delighted squeal from across the Beaumonts' garden, where you had previously been sitting with a book in your lap. Now, you were running at full speed toward your best friend, overjoyed to have him back. The impropriety of your run was momentarily forgotten in the sheer happiness of having him back.

Reaching Benedict, you felt yourself being swept up in a tight hug, the arms around your waist immediately bringing a comfort you had not felt since before Queen Charlotte's ball. He gently placed you back on the ground but couldn't find it in himself to let go of you completely. He placed his hands on your shoulders, looking you up and down and trying to take you in as much as possible.

"You've grown quite a bit since I last saw you. Six days, has it been? And already you're almost as tall as me," Ben teased, a charming smile on his face. He hoped his joking demeanor would mask the overwhelming fondness that surged within him. The countryside had been miserable, to say the least. The arrangements to purchase the cottage had gone relatively smoothly, and he could have returned after barely a day and a half away. But he forced himself to remain in the country, not wanting to potentially infringe on his best friend's debut. Despite the sleepless nights and restless days, he resisted the urge to return. What he did not resist, and in fact plagued his mind constantly, were thoughts about his aforementioned best friend. He constantly thought of you, dancing at a ball with a good-for-nothing bachelor, or being flirted with by prospective husbands, or worse, flirting back. Benedict had erroneously thought that his time away in the countryside might have quelled the dull ache in his chest, having instead the opposite effect. But now that he was here, with you looking radiant as ever standing right in front of him, he felt his mind quiet down, relishing in the comfort brought by your presence.

You rolled your eyes and smiled, your affection for Benedict shining through even when feigning annoyance. "Hmm, well, you seem to have shrunk during your time away. Most peculiar," you retorted, easily falling back into your familiar banter.

The two of you walked side by side toward the far end of the garden, where your open book had been left hastily abandoned in the grass. Though there was constant chatter between you, Benedict very pointedly avoided inquiring about your coming out, opting to let you broach the once-sensitive topic at your own pace. But six days devoid of an eager audience for your literary escapades left you yearning to share your thoughts on the thrilling novel that had consumed every one of your moments outside of ballrooms and entertaining callers. And Benedict was more than happy to listen. Seating himself on the soft grass beside your forgotten book, he listened intently and interjected whenever appropriate.

Eventually, you had talked all there was to talk about a 300-page book and chose instead to lean on Ben as you read aloud to him from your current novel. On his end, Benedict was all too aware of your head on his shoulder, your voice carrying a soothing cadence. It was easy to get lost in it. He realized he would miss moments like these once you were married. Since childhood, you had been reading to him in this garden, and it would all be over by the end of the season. But of course, the dull ache he was feeling was because he would miss you after you wed. No other reason.

You suddenly set your book down, finally ready to talk about the elephant in the room. "I spoke with my mother last night. About marriage and the like," you looked over at Benedict, searching his face for any clue about what he might be feeling. His eyebrows shot up, and he nodded for you to continue talking, eager to listen to what you had to say.

"It was quite wonderful, actually; I think a lot of the pressure I was feeling has been relieved," you said with a smile, and I felt Ben relax next to you. Encouraged by another nod and Benedict's murmur of That's good, you continued, recounting the previous night's conversation with Primrose with great detail, conveniently leaving out the part where your mother had used you and Ben as an example of a good connection formed over time.

"Well, I suppose she's rather right, isn't she? Most of us aren't going to fall in love at first sight. Friendships work that way too; look at us," Benedict remarked, and you couldn't help but internally laugh at the fact that he had brought up your connection on his own.

Maintaining the brisk pace of the conversation, you continued, "Yes, exactly, she also said that. And by then, I had calmed down quite considerably, so I asked her about the marriage night and told her that I didn't know what it was but asked if I should worry about that as well."

Benedict choked, quickly masking it with a cough as he swallowed thickly. The marriage night? How on earth did you know about that? He subtly adjusted his sitting position, nodding at you to continue. "And what did she say to that?" he struggled out.

"She chastised me for even knowing what it was, of course, but I had overheard Alex talking about it, so she can't really be upset with me at that, can she? Anyhow, she refused to tell me what it was," you glanced at Ben, your expression expectant. He chuckled, gesturing for you to continue, resisting the temptation to elaborate. He knew that explanation should come from a mother to a daughter or perhaps from a husband to a wife, but certainly not from him. He still felt his senses heightened, knowing this conversation was going into unexplored, not to mention forbidden, territory between a proper lady such as yourself and a self-proclaimed rake such as himself. He was acutely aware of the proximity of your knee to his leg, and a subtle heat crept up his neck.

Disappointed but undeterred, you pushed on, "Well, she said it was going to be enjoyable. If I choose the right husband, of course. Ben, are you sure you can't tell me? Not even a clue? My mother's response was quite unsatisfactory. What does she mean 'fun'? Why will the marriage night be 'fun'? Does she mean the kind of fun like when I'm playing pall mall? Or the kind of fun when you take me on nature walks at Aubrey Hall? Why will no one talk to me about this?"

Ben was, quite suddenly and very wholly, overtaken by a heat he felt everywhere that was traveling down his stomach. He could sense that you were exasperated, but he needed a moment to recover from you comparing sleeping with someone to something the two of you did. Benedict felt his heartbeat in his ears and couldn't tear his eyes away from your lips, pursed in frustration. Lips that looked awfully kissable, if he were to be completely honest. His breathing quickened, and he was actively fighting the desire he felt for the girl in front of him, keeping his hands rigid by his sides to avoid touching you in the way he wanted to. He groaned internally from both the intensity of the feeling and the effort of holding it back. His mind was elsewhere, in a candlelit room with you in a nightgown or perhaps a towel, but he knew he had to answer in a semi-normal way, if possible. He blinked quickly and met your eyes, narrowed and expectant.

"It's really not my place, Y/N. The countess would kill me twice if she knew I had talked about this with you at all, let alone told you what it was," he answered finally. However, the immediate drop in your expression made him feel awful, and he was desperate to alleviate the frown on your face.

"Alright," he relented, "what your mother said was true; it will most likely be fun, given you marry the right man. And, um..." Ben scrambled to find a delicate way to explain the night of the marriage without risking a duel with Alexander Beaumont. "It's not like Pall Mall," he said after a pause. "It's more like... scratching an itch? It'll feel fulfilling, hopefully."

You put your head in your hands clearly through attempting to get anything out of him. "Scratching an itch? What does that even mean?" you exclaimed.

Ben would've laughed at the scene had he not still been feeling out of sorts from the previous conversation. He was astounded and a little embarrassed that he had had such an intense reaction to the slightest mention of the marriage night. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to get rid of the thoughts running through his mind. This, he reasoned, was precisely why he was a rake. Evidently, he wasn't ready to marry and needed more time in his rakish ways to get it out of his system. Wiping his brow and eager to redirect his thoughts, he turned to you once again, launching into a detailed explanation of the beautiful countryside landscapes he had seen while away and how he was going to paint them.

---

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inquisitor13 · 1 year

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You know that one scene in game where valrius spills his drink on MC on purpose? How do you think the other courtiers and Nadia would react if MC got up without saying a word and proceeded to pour their own drink right on valirius head and leaned in real close and said “oops”? I saw a scene like this in a show and thought it was the most badass thing ever xx

(Sorry for the misspelling, I’m god awful with their names)

Oh, yes, I saw that scene. :)

Well, it's going to be fun!

Countess Nadia

As a well-bred ruler of the state, she is extremely amazed. Even more: she's in shock. Moreover, it is unclear why exactly she is more in shock – from Valerius' antics or because of the way the MC answered him.

The surprised Countess runs up to MC and Valerius, wondering what happened, who first started this whole nightmare and for what purpose it was set up. Of course, the question is: "who started it first?" rhetorical. She squints irritably at the blushing Valerius, who clearly did not expect that this act would be noticed.

Nadia reprimands the culprit first: "Consul, I did not expect this from you, your behavior is unacceptable and from this day on I forbid you to appear in rooms where others gather with a glass of wine" – even such a harmless remark can hurt Valerius' self-confidence.

After talking to the adviser, she slowly turns to the MC and already addresses them, with the same stern expression on her face. Yes, the Countess is strict, but very fair and wants everyone to get what they deserve. "MC, I understand that you are angry at Valerius because of this terrible act, but try not to do it again. This is not worthy of any reaction. Now let me deal with your stain on your clothes."

As a result, Valerius, hurt by pride, goes to wash his hair and grumbles, and Nadia leaves MC next to her to discuss what happened. She intends to have this conversation with both MC and Valerius when he gets himself in order.

"MC, I am very ashamed of my adviser, I apologize for his antics. I'll talk to him and try to make sure he doesn't try to embarrass you anymore."

Nadia will definitely make Valerius apologize to MC. And the MC will also be obliged to apologize for what he did: she doesn't want people around her to conflict or hate each other.

Quaestor Valdemar

They are not doing anything to stop what is happening. Seriously, they absolutely don't care about this brawl, they just act as a silent observer who came to watch an unfunny cheap performance.

Not a single emotion flashes on their face, but their eyes are closely watching both MC and Valerius. But at the same time Valdemar is not on anyone's side.

When the MC takes and pours wine on Valerius' head, the reaction still appears: they laugh softly, hissing into their fists, squinting their eyes. It's almost impossible to see or hear.

Since their face is hidden by a medical mask, it is difficult to determine: is Valdemar funny or are they just snorting contemptuously? Oh, no, it's really something like a laugh. They haven't had this much fun in a long time.

At the end of this meeting, they will not say anything to MC or Valerius, but they will remember this case for a long time.

Valdemar could not resist and nevertheless inserted their remark: "Valerius, you should not have taken this fatal step. Your pride is wounded," and then spreads into a wide toothy smile that can be seen even through the mask.

In their opinion, this is a good way to put the arrogant Valerius in his place, so they have nothing against it.

Pontifex Vulgora

Get ready. Their laughter will shake the whole room, and Valerius' rage will become uncontrollable, because "no one dares to laugh at the supreme consul!". But Vulgora clearly doesn't care.

"FUCK, VALERIUS, NOW YOUR HEAD LOOKS LIKE YOU'VE ALREADY HAD YOUR SKULL CRUSHED!"

They catch judgmental glances at themselves, but they don't care at all. They laugh uncontrollably, flavoring their laughter with prickly and witty comments. Finally, this reception has become less boring.

Vulgora does not care about the condemnatory views and comments of everyone present. In a fit of emotion, they can hit something in a hurry and it will definitely suffer.

For example, it can be a vase. And it will be noisy until the Pontifex releases them and they come to their senses, or until the Countess calms them down.

But even after that, they will remember this situation for a long time and make rude jokes on this topic.

Vulgora are even proud that they did not miss this reception and saw the spectacle while being at the forefront.

Preator Vlastomil

Looks at the spectacle with a bit of surprise. Not that what was happening was important to him, because all this time he was busy looking at the worms that he carried in the folds of his clothes and woke up only when he heard Valerius's indignant scream.

"What's going on here?! You are scaring my children!" – he is outraged, for the most part, not by what the MC did, but by the fact that because of Valerius, who began to resent loudly, his worms hid back in the folds of his clothes and now refuse to come out again.

When he sees Valerius doused with wine, he is not thrilled. Now there is a smell of this drink around, because of which his worms will definitely not crawl out now.

However, he is still watching this scene. After all, what else does Vlastomil like besides worms? That's right, gossip. Fresh gossip. Therefore, he discards indignation and collects material for gossip related to Valerius. This is a great reason to put him in front of everyone in an unfavorable light.

Do not be surprised if in a few days the whole palace will be talking about it. Vlastomil, of course, if he is suspected, will say that he has nothing to do with it, but since he is the only most avid gossip here, you should not believe him.

Valerius' reputation has suffered because of him.

Procurator Volta

Like Vlastomil, she wasn't particularly interested in this meeting. She was fascinated by the food she had secretly brought into the room and was just eating all the time.

Exactly until the room was filled with the smell of poured wine on Valerius' hair. She giggles softly, unable to contain her laughter. Valerius is always so proud and arrogant, and now he's so awkward and funny.

"Now Valerius smells so nice of the drink!" – she squeaks.

If Vlastomil is the main gossip of the palace, then Volta deservedly takes second place. Together with him, she, occasionally laughing, and discussing with him all the awkwardness of the incident.

When the performance is interrupted by Nadia's remarks, Volta quickly loses interest in this small scandal and returns to eating again.

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sea-owl · 1 year

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So how do Penelope and Colin actually get together in the arranged marriage AU? It seems like Colin sees Pen as his but doesn't even really know what he means by "my Pen." I'd just love to see the moment when Colin goes from "my Pen" (best friend) to "MY Pen" (love of my wife and the future mother of our children).

Believe it or not, I can probably pinpoint that moment.

Along the timeline, it would be in Penelope's first season. Since Penelope was already engaged, Portia didn't feel the need to debut her early, but it still ended up happening because the older two were not very successful on the marriage mart.

Portia found that a lot of potential suitors or their matchmaking mamas wanted attention from the future Mrs. Bridgerton. Portia debated and then counted the numbers of the family financials from her late husband. She wanted her daughters to be safe, and that meant finding them good matches. While she had no worries for Penelope and Felicity, they were both smarter and cleverer than their older sisters, Prudence, and Philippa needed help. So, a year early, Penelope debuted into society.

Penelope would spend the first half of balls miserable as she was dragged around the room by her mother with her older sisters. Being forced to make conversation with people who wouldn't even notice she was there if she wasn't engaged to Colin. The second half she would spend with Daphne as they both avoided those who were trying to weasel their way into the future Duchess of Hastings and furure Mrs. Bridgerton's good graces. Sometimes, they would hide behind Anthony, who was just as protective of his future sister in-laws as he was of his biological sisters.

At this point in time, Colin has gone on a Grand Tour to finish out his University years. He and Penelope write to each other while he is away.

Insert the season of 1813, April 1813, to be exact. Lady Danbury's ball. If you want to get real specific chapter 2 of The Duke and I.

Colin had arrived home early from his Grand Tour. He says he was low on money, but really, he got two letters. One letter was from Penelope saying she was debuting this season. That left an ugly feeling in Colin. The other letter was from Felicity saying she would hunt him down with Sunshine if he didn't get his butt home and make those people at the balls stop harrassing her sister. That left an even uglier feeling in Colin.

After getting the two letters Colin soon found himself on a ship heading back to London.

His family had already left for the ball by the time he got home, so Colin figured he surprise them and Pen. When he got there his older brothers, Daphne, and Penelope were in a circle talking. He could hear Penelope make a witty remark about whatever they were talking about.

"Besides Colin-" Penelope looked to the side and locked eyes with her fiance. "Colin!"

This gained his siblings' attention, who also greeted him.

"I say were you all bugging my fiancé?" Colin joked as stood next to Penelope.

Benedict rolled his eyes. "If anything, we're saving her from those vultures."

A quick glance around the room proved this true. Some were better than others at hiding their stares, but many had their predatory eyes on Penelope. Colin moved closer to his Pen, and pretended to read over her dance card, blocking her smaller body with his own body. He and his siblings vehemently disliked how others try to get in with the Bridgertons by using their fiancés.

Penelope gave Colin a grateful smile, and he returned a smile to her as well. He found he wanted to reassure her, let her know that he will always be there to protect her.

Colin glanced down at Penelope's dance card. It was blank other than his brothers' names.

That ugly feeling returned. Swooping in Colin's stomach and he felt the impulse to scratch out his brothers' names and fill every dance slot with his own.

Now Colin knows his brothers dancing with his Pen was nothing more than brotherly affection. The same as if they were dancing with Daphne. He also knows Anthony and Benedict have their own fiancés, Kate and Sophie, who they remain loyal to. Yet that ugly feeling was still there.

Colin found he wanted to hold his Pen, and in a ball room there is only one way to do that with so many eyes on you.

"Pen?" Colin asked. "Is your mother expecting you to return to her side any time soon?"

Penelope shook her head. "No. Mama made a deal with me that I follow her for first half of the ball and the second half I do whatever I please."

"Good." Colin smiled, grabbing his Pen's hand. "Because we are dancing."

As Colin twirled his Pen around, he could not bring himself to not stare at her. He knows he's been gone for over a year, but now it's sinking in how long it's been since he's been on the presence of his personal ray of sunshine. He's missed her, his wife.

Colin's brain paused. Did he just refer to Penelope as his wife? Yes, it is an eventual thing in the next few years after Colin sorts out his occupation, but he's always called her his fiancé or his Pen.

Their dance ended, and Penelope spotted something behind him.

"Oh, look Colin! Simon has returned too! We must go say hello!"

Penelope grabbed Colin's hand this time and began to lead him back to his siblings, and now Simon, were.

His wife Penelope, yes Colin actually rather liked the thought.

#arranged marriage au #polin #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington

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honey-minded-hivemind · 9 months

Text

The platonic yanderes I've mentioned before all have nicknames and relationships with their bby (a.k.a. you, the reader!). How they met their bby is considered a special, life-changing moment in their eyes, and they are protective in their own... special... ways. But that story will come at a later date. For now, I think I should delve into some smaller stuff , so let's explore the type of humor and nicknames between these platonic yans and their bby:

• 🧡Wolverine/Logan Howlett🦡: nicknames for his bby: pup, bub, darlin', shortstack (regardless of if you are shorter than him or taller than him)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Lo, Old Guy, Wulv, Mr. Cigarette Duet (the bby might have either been testing the waters with that one, or under anesthesia. People say weird things under that stuff)

Their humor: dry humor and small quips

• 🦁Sabretooth/Victor Creed🦷: nicknames for his bby: cub, fresh meat, whelp, kitten

Nicknames his bby gives him: Vic, Large Lion Man, Shere Khan, Mr. Backstabber (both literally and metaphorically, bby has seen him do both, it was messy)

Their humor: cat puns

• 🦡Wolverine 2.0/Laura Kinney💛: nicknames for her bby: fox, pearl, sibling-in-arms, honeybee

Nicknames her bby gives her: Laurel, Kin-ship, Baby Claws, Little Badger

Their humor: stand up comedy (where you pretty much do a spoken caricature of your life, poking fun at it, or something that happens to you)

• 🐺Daken/Akihiro🌀: nicknames for his bby: beautiful, doll, handsome, my favorite (insert sexuality/gender)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Wolf Guy, Seducter, Nature's Child, Lone Wolf (the bby calls him Seducter because they found out about his pheromone ability. And yeah, the bby poked fun at the fact it failed on the bby, because they aren't attracted to him in the least like that)

Their humor: quips and movie references

• 🔥Marvel Girl/The Phoenix/Jean Grey🦚: nicknames for her bby: sunshine, dear, sweetie, firecracker

Nicknames her bby gives her: Miss Marvelous, Venus, mind games, Jeanie

Their humor: inside jokes

• 😎Cyclops/Scott Summers🚨: nicknames for his bby: kiddo, shortstuff, kid, gremlin

Nicknames his bby gives him: Scout, Shades, Laser-Light, Ruby in the Rough (bby wanted him to feel good about his power, so they say those nicknames in a nice fashion)

Their humor: puns all the way

• 🥈Cable/Nathan Summers🤖: nicknames for his bby: tiny, powerhouse, tyke-bomb, brat (he means these nicely, even if he is gruff and stern)

Nicknames his bby gives him: Back To The Future, Terminator, Metal Man, Mr. Robocop (bby couldn't help themself, they saw so many nickname opportunities)

Their humor: banter and witty remarks

• 🎭Mystique/Raven Darkholme💙: nicknames for her bby: child, precious, dear, little heathen

Nicknames her bby gives her: Karma Chameleon, Blue, enchantress, The Blue Fairy

Their humor: witty and dry remarks

• 🎱Rogue/Anne-Marie🥀: nicknames for her bby: suga', hun, love, sweetheart

Nicknames her bby gives her: Miss-Anne-thrope, Marie, Killer Queen, lovedove

Their humor: Southern stand up comedy and phrases ("sweet Southern heat is not just a flavor", "sweeter than apple pie", and jokes of all the various animals found in the South, especially in weird and concerning places)

• ♠️Gambit/Remy LeBeau♥️: nicknames for his baby: Ace of Spades, imp, bebe, ma moitie

Nicknames his bby gives him: King of Hearts, Sugar and Spice, trickster, Jack

Their humor: poking fun at languages and their relationships (the English and French language are hard to master. Good job if you understand half of it, or even a little of it)

• 🌌Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner😇: nicknames for his bby: angel, treasure, friend, beauty

Nicknames his bby gives him: doll-baby (it is a Southern nickname, it means sweet, charming, and innocent, in my area), Angel of the Night, fluffball, Blue (Da Ba Dee)

Their humor: pranks. Pranks all around

These are all my opinion, and if you get the references, great job! If not, that is okay! These were my ideas of nicknames and humor for previously mentioned platonic yanderes (plus their bby's nicknames for them!). I hope you enjoyed these platonic yandere honeycomb thoughts!

#platonic yandere marvel #honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere x reader #yandere x-men #platonic yandere x-men #platonic yandere

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miss-andromeda · 8 months

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💚🧠🧊 for Andi, please 😁

I got you, girl ❤️❤️

💚: What's your OC's gender identity and sexuality?

Andi is a cis girl - her pronouns are she/her. She's bi-curious, actually - she once had a crush on April when they were 13, but she suspects that was because April had been such a solid figure in her life after her dad's passing, that she mistook comfort and platonic love for actual romantic attraction. Regardless, she became curious about what a relationship with another girl is like - though these feelings fade after she and Donnie start dating.

🧠: What do you like most about your OC?

Is it superficial to say her appearance? 😅

No, serious answer. I'd say her wit and biting sass - while she does border on being a tad mean at times, it's always fun to have her have a witty remark or comment up her sleeve, especially if banter like that is between her and Raph. Which is why they're my favorite platonic duo 🩷❤️

🧊: Is their current design the first one?

Kind of, but not really - I'll explain.

So when Andi was a self-insert, she was literally that - a self-insert of myself, with my name, appearance, everything. This was technically her original design - until I started redesigning her.

When she became Andi Rhodes, I knew I wanted to make her have caramel-colored hair, green eyes, make her color be pink and have her wear clothes like dresses and stockings - and I stuck to it, eventually finding pictures of a TikToker named Maddy Kendzior on Pinterest, and deciding she was exactly what Andi looked like.

As far as her personality goes, that had a bigger revamp. Again, she was a lot like 13-year-old me at first - a bookworm, introverted, anxious, depressed - but quite flat and static, which was not fun to write. Eventually, I started to ask myself, 'What's an interesting type of character that 2012 Donnie would like?' And I settled on a genius-type - but add some flaws and make them feel different. So I made Andi a prodigy and gave her a laser gun - something unique and fitting for her character. Then I started imagining myself as her - I pictured her as being quite sassy and direct, but still having a good heart and being loyal to the core. She'd still retain some old qualities, though - a bookworm and not doing well with new people being the main ones.

And eventually, I decided to add another little piece of her character - she may be a brilliant scientist, but she's so stupid with love and emotions. It's bleedingly obvious that Donnie loves and adores her - but she's too oblivious to see it, not believing anyone when they tell her and not noticing if he's staring at her or smiling a lot more. This gave me quite a bit to work with, and it allowed me to develop both April's and Donnie's characters - she's a matchmaker when it comes to them, and instead of being hopelessly in love with her and just wishing that she would feel the same (like canon 2012 Donnie can be at times 😒), he's more complex with his feelings - he wishes that he could tell her how he feels and is fearful of her rejecting him, but is mature enough to know that if she wants to be friends, that's more than fine with him - he cares about her and wants to be there for her, friend or girlfriend.

----------

Dang, I wrote a full essay for the last one 😅 Anyway, hope this answers everything! 🩷

@kikithedreamerwriter @m1dnyt3-w0lf @eveandtheturtles @android-cap-007 @jasminarts01 @raphsmuneca @happymoonangel @thelaundrybitch

#all's fair in love and science #oc andi rhodes #oc ask game

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paytonslitreviews · 8 months

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Literature Review of “Travels with the Snow Queen,” by Kelly Link

Kelly Link’s 1996 short story “Travels with the Snow Queen” tells the story of a woman embarking on an adventure to find her lover, Kay, who has seemingly left her. The narrator, Gerda, recalls being told by a man working at the corner store that he watched Kay get into a long sleigh with a beautiful woman, the sleigh pulled by thirty white geese. While on her journey to find Kay and this Snow Queen, Gerda meets several interesting characters along the way, most notable among them a princess called Briar Rose, a robber girl, a prince-turned-reindeer named Bae, and eventually, the Snow Queen herself. Although she set forth on this journey to find her lover and together live happily ever after, Gerda’s view of Kay has changed throughout the course of her travels, and in the end, she makes the choice to leave him.

Link’s writing style breaks the rules of conventional fiction writing in a captivating way, and for the purposes of this story, it works extremely well. Her writing is humorous and at times satirical, creating a retelling of a classic story that is a fun read with a modern spin. The story is, interestingly, written in a second-person point of view, directly inserting the reader into the role of the main character and narrator. Reading the story, the audience experiences the events of the journey and meets the various characters ourselves; we are Gerda. Gerda is a sarcastic and funny narrator, and we find ourselves embodying that characterization.

Along with being a more modern reimagining of Hans Christian Andersen’s 1844 fairytale, Link’s story is written for an adult audience, whereas Andersen’s story was intended for children. Link’s story contains sexual themes and explicit language, at one point the Princess Briar Rose tells Gerda, “He was a nice guy, okay in bed. She was a real bitch, though … The Snow Queen,” she says, “the slut in the sleigh” (The Big Book of Modern Fantasy 570). In addition to mature content, in writing this story, it is clear that Link wants the audience to think about themes like misogynistic depictions of female characters in media, that a child likely would not fully understand.

In the story, we meet several characters that are representative of ways in which women are often depicted in media like literature and film. Link uses specific words to describe these female characters, and these words are deliberately used to represent common female archetypes. The bimbo, the slut, the bitch, the plump older woman that is past her prime, and of course, Gerda, the jealous ex. Link’s subtle social commentary about these boxes society often puts female characters and, ultimately, all women, into while also giving us a quite complex female narrator with notable character growth is a wonderful demonstration of the multitudes a woman can be. There’s also the inclusion of Gerda noting that the princess doesn’t actually turn out to be a bimbo, and the Snow Queen isn’t actually a bitch, reminding us that women are not these labels.

“Travels with the Snow Queen” is rich with imagery, descriptions of glass-cut feet, bloody tracks in the snow, and freezing exhalations into in the cold air giving the audience a visceral description of the characteristic wintery atmosphere. Also heavily woven into the story are allusions and references to many popular fairytales, such as Hansel and Gretel, The Wizard of Oz, The Little Mermaid, and Cinderella, among others. At one point, the story implies that Gerda is the great-granddaughter of Little Red Riding Hood, describing her beautiful red cloak, now smelling like wet dog and ragged like it had been chewed on, a detail that I found particularly amusing.

The plot of the story easily kept my attention while reading, and combined with Link’s unique storytelling, I was never bored. There were lines where a witty remark shocked a laugh out of me, which I enjoyed. In addition to being wonderfully sarcastic, Link’s humor is also beautifully absurd in a way that is addicting to read and refreshing as it is rare to find in literature, especially in a way that pays off so successfully.

Overall, Kelly Link’s “Travels with the Snow Queen” is one of my favorite pieces I have read recently. Her writing style is so unique to her, and her fun in writing this story was evident to me while reading it. Link is an excellent and effective storyteller, suddenly dropping lines of beautifully written prose between sections of humor. In the story, the narrator repeatedly mentions the bloodied and torn soles of her feet, cut with the glass shards of her map to Kay. In the story’s resolution, Link writes, “The robber girl’s boots cover the scars on your feet. When you look at these scars, you can see the outline of the journey you made. Sometimes mirrors are maps, and sometimes maps are mirrors. Sometimes scars tell a story, and maybe someday you will tell this story to a lover. The soles of your feet are stories—hidden in the black boots, they shine like mirrors” (575). In the last paragraph of the story, she leaves us with a perfect conclusion, “You tell the geese that your feet are maps and your feet are mirrors. But you tell them that you have to keep in mind that they are also useful for walking around on. They are perfectly good feet” (576), indicative of Gerda’s own personal growth and realization of self-worth independent of her past lover and encompassing her character arc throughout the story.

Link, Kelly. “Travels with the Snow Queen.” The Big Book of Modern Fantasy, edited by Ann VanderMeer and Jeff VanderMeer, Vintage Books, 2020, pp. 566-576.

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astarionancuntnin · 2 months

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Undisclosed Desires (Chapter 1)

summary: astarion and you, along with your other companions, have been traveling together for a few weeks now. he gets on your nerves at least once a day. but as much as you hate to admit it, your late night activites are plagued by him. little do you know, hes aware of the effect he has on you and intends to use that to his advantage.

rating: E

word count: 3.1k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is a self-insert tav who happens to be a sorceress, nondescriptive appearance)

cw: 18+. smut, porn with no plot, "enemies" to lovers ish, slight masturbation, fingering, rough sex, kinda possessive/hate sex, brat reader, vampire bites, blood (obvs), PiV, primal play (if you squint), creampie, denial of feelings, "oh no I'm falling in love"

a/n: WHEW i finally managed to write this, my first bg3/astarion fic ~ let me know what you think! originally this was supposed to be a one shot fic but i might have some ideas for a next chapter maybe potentially so if yall deem this good enough i might write some more uwu

read on ao3

next chapter

or keep reading down below ~

edit: corrected a few typos and added lyrics from my astarion playlist that inspired this debauchery

Maybe in time

When we're both better at life

Daylight can open my eyes

And you'll still be by my side

But meanwhile

I've got my contact high

You've got your powdered lies

We've got these summertime nights

Night by night

I let you eat me alive

I want you to eat me alive

You and Astarion, along with your other companions, had been traveling together for a few months now. You grew accustomed to his usual banter, though most of it got you rolling your eyes. You did enjoy the few moments of silence you would get while traveling, and his annoying habit to fill it with his remarks annoyed you profoundly.

Gods, you thought. I wish he could shut up, just for once. Would it be so much to ask for ONE day of peace?

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed him in your party. The bastard was a master in lockpicking and disarming traps, which you came across much too often. You started learning on your own in the hopes of making him useless, but it had proven to be quite the challenge. As a sorceress, it was simply not a trick you had up your sleeve. In the meantime, he would have to tag along, if only for that, and you would have to tolerate whatever witty comment he had along the road.

You felt that he knew how much his comments annoyed you, too. Everytime he was about to say something, his eyes would dart your way, expecting a reaction from you, and you always delivered: an exasperated groan, a sigh, shaking your head, rolling your eyes, and always picking up the pace to get away from him. He took a vicious pleasure in disturbing your peace.

And your private space.

You did appreciate physical contact, that was no issue for you. Karlach’s hugs were the best in your opinion. Ever since you got to fix her engine, you've really enjoyed getting crushed in her arms, lovingly of course. Shadowheart came close second, you really cared for her with your relationship growing since the nautiloid crash. You had favorites of course, but in general you didn’t mind it from anyone, really. You longed for physical contact from the people you loved.

Astarion, on the other hand, did not fit that criteria. But it didn’t stop him from brushing your hand as he walked past you, having his hands linger over yours when exchanging potions or even holding your waist to move you aside a few times. Even with your hatred for him, those temporary touches set a fire inside you that you couldn’t understand. It would bother you all day, sinful thoughts invading your mind and almost sidetracking you from the goal at hand. I despise him. How is he doing this to me? Why do I find myself longing for his touch?

What’s he doing to me?

Usually when that happened, you would take care of yourself at night once everyone went to bed, hoping your pillow was enough to muffle your moans as you pleasured yourself. You were lucky your tent was well far from the others. Or most of them, anyway. You always insisted on putting it up in a secluded space of the camp. You had enough struggles with those conflicting feelings about how the vampire made you feel, the last thing you wanted was for one of your companions to tease you about it.

Today was no exception. As you laid down in your bedroll wearing nothing but your loose blouse and underwear, your hand carefully made its way between your legs. You played out the rehearsed scenario in your head of the scene that happened earlier, but with your own twist on it. Karlach and Shadowheart had proposed to split up to cover more ground looking for a document, and it left you alone with the pale elf.

“Well, well, aren’t you lucky to be the one by my side?” he teased, once your friends were far enough from you. “Don't worry, love, I won't bite. Unless you ask, of course”. His words and honeyed voice alone had set off something unnerving in you, a familiar warmth that pooled down to your stomach.

If you had had it your way back then…

At the next corner, you would’ve pushed him by the waist against the nearest wall and shut his pretty mouth up, roughly kissing him, biting his lips in the process, hoping to draw out some of his own blood to have a taste. You would’ve taken the chance to let one of your hands roam through his silky smooth, curly hair, pulling it enough to get a moan out of him. How you would’ve parted his legs with your own, and grinded against his crotch, feeling his growing bulge. You would’ve made him whimper, you would've -

You’re suddenly taken out of your fantasy by an exaggerated cough outside your tent. Fuck, what now? You recognize the tone of the vampire you were fantasizing about seconds ago. Shit. Did he hear me? You take a second to push yourself up on your elbows.

“What do you want, Astarion?”

He takes this as an invitation to enter your tent, “Well, hello to you too, dear”.

“Do you even know how late it is?” You practically spit out, annoyed. “Can I help you?” You try to cover up as the cold night air slipping inside with him makes you shiver, and your blouse doesn't leave much to the imagination.

He smirks. “My, my, no need to be so hostile,” he kneels next to you. “I was actually thinking we could help each other out.”

You stare at him, pausing before asking your next question. “...What do you mean?”

“Well, I was hoping you would be willing to share your blood with me again.”

“I helped you one time and you almost killed me,” you stare at him with daggers in your eyes.

“And here I thought everything was forgiven,” he puts a hand over his undead heart, fainting a pained expression. “You hurt me, really.”

“Plus, didn’t we agree you’d be feeding on the blood of our enemies from now on?”

He sighs, “We did, and it’s sufficient at best.” His voice deepens. “And now that I’ve tasted yours, I’ve come to… crave it.”

You feel his gaze going through you and your heartbeat quicken. Your breath gets stuck in your throat at this confession. You are fighting yourself to conceal any noticeable change in your expression, but it's a battle you’ve already lost.

“I fail to see where that’s my concern,” your shaky voice betrays you. You could swear he had gotten closer to you, but you couldn’t allow him to see through your vulnerabilities. “As far as I know, there’s nothing in it for me so far. What makes you think I would indulge you?”

“Oh darling, you didn’t really think you were hiding anything, were you?”

Your blood runs cold. “...What?” He knows. No fucking way he knows.

“Come on now, you thought I wouldn’t notice how you’ve been acting around me lately?”

He crawls towards you, and you try to move back but the limits of your tent don’t allow you to escape him, who is quickly closing the short distance between the two of you. “The way you shiver under my touch. How those simple touches render you incapable of making eye contact for the rest of the day after. How your face turns into the sweetest shades of red when I’m nearby.” He hovers over you completely by now, his face merely inches from yours. “The way I can hear the muffled sounds from your tent every night.” He pins your arms next to your head, locking you in place, and whispers in your ear. “The fact that I can smell your arousal, at this very moment.”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His cold breath sends a shiver of pleasure down to your core. You fumble over your words, you’re not sure what else to say. You might be conflicted about your feelings for him, but the truth is, you find yourself wanting this, whatever he’s willing to give to you.

“Very well then, let me show you.” You gasp in surprise as he pushes your arms up above your head, allowing him to hold them both with one hand while the other slides down between your legs. A soft whimper escapes your lips as his fingers touch your cunt over your panties, feeling your wetness through them.

“Mmh, just like I thought,” His voice is deep with lust. “So wet for me already.”

“That’s… it’s not… what you think..” you pant at his touch, struggling to get the words out.

“Is it? Cause to me it seems that you were already touching yourself before I visited you tonight. And I would bet my undead life that you were thinking about me.” His hand makes its way inside your undies and a finger slides between your folds.

You can’t fight the moan that escapes you at the contact of his cold skin against yours.

“Shhh, we wouldn’t want the camp to know about your dirty desires now, would we?” he whispers, as he keeps exploring the increasing warmth between your legs.

“What… makes you think that…I would touch myself to you?” Each word takes your full effort to manage to say them. You didn’t want to cave in as easily, if he was trying to make you admit to these fantasies, he’d have to torture them out of you. Although, his hand pressing against your clit was doing a pretty good job so far.

“Maybe… I was thinking about Shadowheart.” You frown devilishly, biting your lip. That should throw him off.

“Mh no, no,” he smirks back, his eyes wearing a predatory look. “Your tadpole was pretty clear on who you desire.”

You can’t hide your surprise and Astarion notices instantly. “You’re lucky the others sleep too far to catch it, I’m sure you would never hear the end of it.” His hand previously holding you down makes its way to your neck, holding the back of your head, and his mouth trails kisses from your ear to your throat. His fangs scrape the bite mark he’d previously left on you, that first night, earning him a soft moan from you.

“How long have you-”

“Known?”, he cuts you off. “A tenday, more or less.”

Many thoughts are suddenly racing in your head. You vividly remember an interaction you had with him a few days ago: that time he caught you trying to lockpick a chest away from the group and leaned against your back, taking your hands in his to guide you. “Here, let me show you,” he’d said. His breath was cold against your neck and you could feel his lips close to your ear, the feeling sent shivers through your body. You had struggled to look at him for the rest of that day. This moment alone created that need for him from then on.

You gasp sharply, as you are taken back to the present by two of his fingers making their way inside you slowly.

“I must say you have a very creative mind, dear. I’m just disappointed you didn’t invite me in on the fun before,” his hand slides from your neck to your breast to give it a soft squeeze, kneading it, before pinching your nipple through the soft fabric of your blouse. ”I sense this is not how you expected this to go, is it?” His talented fingers between your legs find the sweet spot that makes you see stars, and he thrusts them in with ease.

“A- Astarion…” You buck your hips into his hand, trying to feel more of his touch. You don’t feel like arguing anymore. Fine, he knew everything you’ve ever thought about him. Now, all you wanted was for him to do something about it. You needed to feel him, all of him, all over and inside your body.

“My, my, aren’t you an eager little thing?”

He removes his fingers from you and you cry out from the loss of his touch. You make eye contact as he gets up on his knees and moves his coated fingers in his mouth, sucking on them to get a taste of you. “Mmh, delicious.”

“Please…” You wriggle underneath him, you’re desperate for him to touch you.

“Use your words, darling. Tell me what you want.”

“You. All of you, “ you beg. Your eyes dart to his lips. You wanna taste him and yourself on his tongue, too.

“You’ll have to be more precise than that.”

Fucking tease.

“Godsdammit,” you groan in frustration, your fists hitting the ground next to you before you raise yourself up to face him. You’ve had enough of this. “I want you to fuck me, Astarion!”

“That’s my girl.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he grabs you by the throat and closes the distance between you in a fiery kiss. Nothing about it is soft. It’s desperate, messy, and rough. It’s all teeth and your tongues are fighting for dominance, and you let yours be nicked by his fang, leaving the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. You’re pushed back against the ground and in his eyes you can see something change. Everything about him feels… primal.

In a matter of seconds, your panties are ripped off from you and your blouse is torn open. There’s a sort of fear stirring inside of you, something about you being his prey, and it's arousing. You are so dizzy from the feeling that you barely notice him pulling his trousers down to his knees and angling himself with your entrance. His mouth ravages your tits, leaving scratches from his fangs as he sucks on them ravenously and licks the few drops of blood that leak out, all while his hands take hold of your ass, roughly squeezing you. You feel his hardened cock slide against your wet cunt, and you push your hips up to rub yourself against him, aching for more contact.

He groans deeply at the contact, his hips jerking at the sensation. “You little minx.” His smile shows his bared fangs, a delicious threat that you want to challenge.

“Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you get all the control,” you spit back. Gods, this is so much better than what I imagined. “If you want it, you’ll have to fight me for it.”

“You insolent little wench.”

Without any warning, he pushes his body against yours, pinning you to the ground and buries himself inside you in one swift thrust. Your mouth flies open and the scream that escapes you is quickly muffled by his hand. His other hand remains on the curve of your hips, where it holds you in place, perfectly aligned with his to hit you deep. His thrusts are raw and erratic and with each hit you can feel your eyes roll further in the back of your head. The feeling is simply ecstatic.

His voice takes a much deeper tone as he breathes out in the nook of your neck, “I’m gonna fucking devour you.”

With your head tilted back, Astarion wastes no time finding your pulsing vein and biting down on your neck, taking his fill of you. His sharp fangs feel like ice shards, the feeling making its way down your chest, just like you remember them from the first time. The icy feeling leaves place to a fire coursing through your veins as he drinks you in, leaving you in a blurry state of bliss.

You are at his mercy. You can’t fight back. He has complete control over you.

And you love it.

His reckless pounding only gets faster and sloppier. You’re convinced that his hold of you and those bites on your tits will leave bruises come morning, but it was the least of your worries. Right now, you’re getting filled by the pretentious elf that had been teasing you for over a tenday and you’re fully enjoying it.

Your tent is filled with the wet sounds of your fucking and his grunting against your neck, along with your muffled voice which, thank the gods it is, otherwise the entire camp would have heard of your late night tryst by now.

You swear you could feel his cock get harder inside of you after each sip of your blood. You feel dizzier and the combined feeling of him getting his fill of you while filling you up at the same time were bringing you close to the edge, and so was he.

“Don’t fight it, pet,” he growls. “Admit that you lost to me. Surrender yourself to me. Scream my name. Let everyone know who ruined your pretty little cunt.”

His last words are enough to send you over the edge, shockwaves making your entire body spam. As he removes his hand from your mouth, you cry out loud. You can't help the sounds escaping you, the overstimulation you're feeling leaves you mindless. You couldn't care less anymore if any one heard you.

Just as he feels your juices overflowing, Astarion gives a last stroke and with his cock deep in your womb, fills you with his spend. He remains still inside of you until he rides out his aftershock.

You both remain in this position as you take the time to come back from your high: panting and sticky with sweat, him still inside you, overflowing with both of juices, and his body crushing yours. The feeling is weirdly comforting.

After you come back to your senses, you can't help but laugh wholeheartedly, which has Astarion raising his brow.

“What's so funny?”

“You. This. Us, really.”

“I take it that you enjoyed our little time together, then?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, yeah.”

“You will learn to know that my company is most enjoyable.”

His expression is back to the overconfident vampire you know, a contrast to the feral beast he was minutes ago.

“Mmh, I think that’s still debatable,” you tease him.

“What is it with you trying to hurt me so carelessly?” he smiles, playing along.

You chuckle, “I'm sure your oversized ego will get over it.”

“I'll have you know that my ego is perfectly sized, as I am, thank you.”

You look at him and you don't know what takes over you, but you grab his face and pull him in for a tender kiss. It's sweet, longing, it's trying to communicate a feeling you don't dare to speak aloud. It’s the complete opposite of how you felt when the night started.

It might be the aftermath of your climax or these long repressed feelings that we're tainted by annoyance or the absurdity of the situation you're in, but you find yourself wanting him to stay for the night.

When you break the kiss, his gaze is softened. He’s taken aback and tries to mask his surprise with a question, “So then, tomorrow, same time?”

You push him back with a smile, “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Though, you wouldn't mind making this a recurring occurrence.

I can feel your love

Your temporary touch

It's a hit and run

You go back there when you're done

Don't you want some more

'Cause I can feel your love

#my posts #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x female reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #fanfiction #bg3 smut #bg3 fic #my writing #Spotify #fic: undisclosed desires

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eolewyn1010 · 11 months

Text

Dragging Frankenstein - Chapter 23

The one where Victor loses all attachments to his conscience and awareness that other people in fact exist, and also gets really blatant about his religious delusions. And yell about it I shall.

Victor is describing the pretty surroundings again, and I know that’s par for the course, but… he and Elizabeth are on honeymoon now, and he’s looking at the landscape and the weather? Romantic. He’s so not into the idea of having sex with her. DAS GAY: 43

And another right away, because when Victor becomes agitated with nightfall, Elizabeth outright asks him what he fears. There we have the bit of Victor’s issues with his sexuality, his fright being intrinsically tied to his wedding night, and it adds up with his evident disinterest in the wedding preparations and ceremony. DAS GAY: 44

When Elizabeth screams in the bedroom, Victor finally comes to the conclusion that, hey, maybe he wasn’t the one at risk here! IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 34

Too late, obviously; poor girl is dead. Reunite with Justine and leave the asshole behind you. Victor goes into self-pity, telling us how everyone else’s horror of a young bride being murdered at the inn is just “a mockery” of his feelings. Yeah, man. You’re so deep. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 35

For him being a suck-ass fiancé and husband, he sure is a loving widower. Insert here witty comment about Victor being more physically in touch with Elizabeth’s corpse than he ever was with her in life, and how his Oedipal side shines through when that scene of him clutching her corpse mirrors the dream about embracing the corpse of his mother.

“Elizabeth whom I had loved and cherished” – excuse me? When have you ever cherished her? Not for the last seven years, for sure.

I raised my eyebrow at the Creature just smirking in through the window while Victor was waxing poetic about Elizabeth’s corpse. I mean, he sure doesn’t have to fear being shot by Victor, but prancing around in daylight, when there are people around?

While Victor is a bit of a fainting damsel about it all, take note that he’s handling Elizabeth’s death remarkably better than Henry’s. There’s no two-months angst coma. Huh. *side-eyes the Gay count*

The bit about rowing is just… stupid. “I had always experienced relief from mental torment in bodily exercise [as we know from his wandering the mountainside]”, and he makes a big deal out of how he himself grabs for an oar because, wooooooow, he lowers himself to actually contribute to his own means of transport! I SO PRIVILEGED: 17

Except he doesn’t, because he tosses it away after a minute because he gets bored or distracted or whatever. Twit.

“No creature had ever been so miserable as I was” – IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 36

How nice would it have been if, at least NOW, Victor finally learned that other people’s deaths are not there only for his tragedy. He doesn’t know the book has his name, for fuck’s sake!

“I arrived at Geneva. My father and Ernest yet lived […]” – Ernest? Oh, yeah, him. Good man.

Frankenstein sr. just kinda crumples and dies at the news, and wrings just another count out of me with Elizabeth being named his “more than daughter”, as she was called Victor’s “more than sister”, and we all know what that meant. INCEST VIBES: 20

Underlined by mentioning how he “doted on” her, which is the exact same choice of words formerly used to describe his relationship with his wife. Ew. I’m so done with this family. Why did he send precious Elizabeth off with Victor in the first place? He knew his son wasn’t good news for anyone.

Ernest apparently does the reasonable thing and has Victor locked away for a while to sit out another nervous breakdown. At least he didn’t wax on about it as extensively as the last time.

Victor foams at the mouth thinking of “the monster whom I had created, the miserable demon whom I had sent abroad into the world for my destruction”, but still fails to point out his own responsibility. THAT GUY WOULDN’T EXIST WITHOUT YOU; YOU JUST SAID SO YOURSELF!

Also, “that I might have him within my grasp to wreak […] revenge on his cursed head.” Heh, forgotten about the super-strength again? DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR: 18

This is The Last of Us, Victor, not The Walking Dead. This one can run, and knock you the fuck out.

But at least he’s proactive about his wish for vengeance, setting out to slay his unnatural offspring. I’m just the tiniest bit outraged that he tells his story to the local magistrate to ask for help, and is instantly believed. *takes brick and starts hitting Victor over the head* YOU COULDN’T BE ARSED TO RISK YOUR CREDIBILITY AND REPUTATION TO SAVE JUSTINE, BUT NOW IT’S JUST SO EASY TO TELL EVERYTHING, AND THERE’S NOT A SINGLE ACCUSATION OF YOU BEING CRAZY! FUCK YOU, IN THE NAME OF JUSTINE!!

And then he gets outraged when the magistrate isn’t really so eager to fight an Übermensch. “My revenge is of no moment to you […] You refuse my just demand,” yeah, alright, get over the hissy fit. Some people wanna stay alive, y’know? IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 37

There’s one sentence I wanna look at in detail before I wrap this up. “[T]here was a frenzy in my manner and something, I doubt not, of that haughty fierceness which the martyrs of old are said to have possessed.”

WHAT.

I’m not a religious person, and I cannot believe the sheer hubris he’s throwing around here. Comparing yourself to a Christian martyr??? DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR: 19

Well, first of all, no. You of all people have no right to call someone haughty who died for their convictions.

Second, martyrs died by themselves, you absolute twat. Demanding others die for your frenzy and cause is not the manner of a martyr, it’s that of a cult leader. Fuck you.

Third, you do realize that martyrs were martyred because of what they said and believed, right? For opinions. Setting a murderous creature out into the world is not a belief. Demanding people put their life on the line for your need of a vicious revenge is not an opinion. The word martyr means witness. You are not a witness, Victor, you are the cause of everything that went wrong here.

Fourth, has he really deluded himself into thinking that what is ultimately only correcting his own wrong is tantamount to the nobility that is usually ascribed to a martyr’s cause?

Fifth. Victor is alive, and what will kill him is his quest for vengeance, not the scourge on the land. William, Justine, Henry, and Elizabeth are dead, and blameless. If anyone here is a martyr, it’s them.

GAWD, but I hate this guy.

He reinforces my point by talking of his “ideas of devotion and heroism” (not going into this again), and then I cracked up when he, Victor fucking Frankenstein, yells at the magistrate: “How ignorant art thou in thy pride of wisdom!”

The hypocrisy, my dear.

And then it’s off to merry murdering. Woo, finale!

Oof. I'm very sure that Mary Shelley wrote him that way on purpose; she wanted Victor to be that self-centered, unloving jerk incapable of reflection and taking responsibility - and she wrote him well. But that doesn't mean he's not an exhausting protagonist to read. The Delusions Of Grandeur count is really the worst; I don't deal well with arrogance, and Victor has zero awareness of how self-aggrandizing his religious comparisons are. Doesn't paint a too flattering image of Percy Shelley.

#Frankenstein #personal opinions #disclaimer: this is just for shits and giggles

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wildestdreamsblog · 3 years

Text

'Cause I can't help if you look like an angel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The one where you made him blush with every chance you got, and then you stopped.

Warnings: FLUUUUUUFF

A/N: HIIIIII. This is my first ever fanfic that I’ve posted here. I was listening to Hey Stephen (Taylor’s version of course) when this idea popped in my mind and I literally had to stop studying law just to write this down. Took me days, though. I hope you enjoy!

"Good morning, Captain!"

Steve groaned when he heard your cheerful voice this early in the morning. This had been a daily occurrence, even lost count of how many months since you had started 'courting????' him. He wasn't even sure if it was a compliment. He, the strong and commanding leader of the team, was feeling mortified whenever you talked to him or even walked past him while waving cheerfully that he started to turn the other way whenever he saw you. Doesn't matter if it was an urgent meeting with Fury, a shorter path to his location, or if he was going to be late- he will surely turn the other way. Your coworkers and his teammates started teasing the two of you which only encourage you on your habit of complimenting him. At this point, he wasn't sure until when could he tolerate you.

He still wasn't used to the tremendous generation gap, was surely not used to girls being forward, more so wasn't used to you. You were confident, cheerful, independent, and on top of that, you had a huge crush on him that you weren't even hiding. It wasn't like you were stalking him that it made him uncomfortable, it was the fact that whenever you see him, you'd say ridiculous things that would make a grown man like him blush from mortification.

-flashback-

"CAPTAIN!"

Steve immediately stopped walking, his face alert for any emergency, his eyes sweeping over the entire hallway before settling at Y/N who was skipping towards him. You stopped in front of him, looking up at your lashes while you catch your breath.

"Do you know CPR?" His brows knitted in a frown, ready to lunge to the direction of the apparent emergency. Only her shy touch on Steve's muscular arm stopped him.

"Because you just took my breath away..." Steve cocked his head to the side, processing your words. Did you just....?

Before he could reprimand you, you were already waltzing across the floor, getting back to your office and to the work that had been interrupted when you saw him sauntered from the glass wall of your department. Steve just watched you, not believing what just transpired as you so nonchalantly put your focus back to your computer.

"Y/N!" Natasha called you from across the restaurant where you and your college friends decided to meet for the weekend. Your face immediately lightened when you saw her waving. You excused yourself from your friends and cheerfully sashayed your way to the red-head as you scanned the table- Sam and Bucky were with her. You made small talk with them, inserting witty remarks that made Sam laughed heartedly, even teasing Bucky that you'd introduce him to one of your friends which made him playfully glare at you.

Wishing them a good day and definitely a good meal, you've just turned around when you bumped into a huge and strong chest that you'd mistaken for a wall if it weren't for the arms steadying you. You looked up, your shoulders brushing with none other than the one and only Captain America. He was wearing a casual blue long-sleeves that would turn your eyes into hearts if this was a cartoon. But alas, it didn't and instead-

"Why are you here!" It was a question stated with a high-pitched voiced. He let go of your arms, looked at Natasha, clearly asking for help.

"Y/N, I'm just meeting with-"

You cut him off, words hurrying past your mouth, "Who's running heaven if you're here?" You heard Natasha, Bucky and Sam chuckled on your anecdote, clearly amused by your candor- an amusement that was in Steve's expense. Again, before he could reprimand you, you blew him a kiss and walked around him to go back to your friends.

You were having one of the most hectic night of your career. It was almost one o'clock in the morning when you decided to call it a night. You headed down to the lobby and out of the building, looking down at your phone when a rumbling sound of motorcycle reached your ears. You looked up when someone called you, and it was the ever so stunning, God's favorite, Steve Rogers sitting on the bike that stopped in front of you. He looked at you, his stern eyes in disapproval.

"Why are you still here? It's not safe to go home at this hour, Y/N." His deep voice was enchanting you, your mind was processing what was happening slowly- probably because your crush was in front of you, also maybe and most probably because you've only slept for two hours last night.

"Y/N? Come on, I'll drive you home." He offered, knowing that his conscience wouldn't let him sleep if something happened to you- and he badly needed sleep. He would do this for everyone, he was telling himself. She was not special. He convinced himself.

"You know, Steve, I had a pickup line ready to go," you blinked up slowly to him, observing that his hair was tousled back, his cheek had a bruise from a mission. "but you're so hot it just left my mind."

You laughed at his reaction, clearly enjoying jestering with the stern Captain America. You pursed your lips when you saw that he was starting to get irritated. Taking pity on the Captain that was most likely close to losing his control on you, you smiled softly at him. "Don't worry, my uber is here." You started walking to the arriving car when you turned around, "Have a good night, Cap! Don't worry, your bruise will not make you less perfect in my eyes."

You were looking down on the files in your hands, when Steve entered the elevator. There were only the two of you. He hadn't seen you around for days because of your conference. Don't ask him why he knew. He didn't ask why, it was just an information offered to him when Natasha saw him looking over the area you frequented as she walked with him. Not that he cared. Not that he was feeling weirded out by the irritation he felt when he didn't catch a glimpse of you. He was just looking. It was innocent. As a soldier, he needed to always be on guard. Right.

Before he decided whether to greet you or not, he sneezed. Which prompted you to look up and give him your attention. Which he wasn't looking for. Not really, he was disgusted with your consistent forwardness.

"I'd say, "God bless you", but clearly it looks like He already did." You mumbled, gave him a teasing smile, and exit the elevator once it reached your floor.

- end of flashback -

He took a deep breath, before turning around. He saw you walked to him, with a smile on your face. "Look, Y/N, I think it's unprofessional to-" He stopped talking when you raised his wallet to him. You blinked slowly, your head cocked to the side, "You dropped this. I was just returning it to you."

"Oh, thank you, Y/N."

"No problem! Have a great day!"

And then you walked away. His brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape by what just transpired. Where was the dreadful pick-up lines you had so carelessly thrown his way for the past months? Not that he was looking for it, nor was he looking forward to it. It just felt like an incomplete interaction with you. Maybe you were just busy. Right.

But that wasn't the case. Steve was dumbfounded by the way you slowly but surely stopped giving him the attention he so-clearly disliked. He abhorred the way you kept smiling at him in the sweet but teasing way only you know how, the way you kept paying for his coffee whenever you happen to see him in your favorite coffee shop, which happened to be his as well, the way your face brightened when you saw him from across the room.

Steve, Bucky, and Sam were spending their rare day off in a bar- why the two agreed when Steve invited them for a night out, which he rarely do, probably a once in a blue moon event, they weren't sure. For Sam, it was because Steve begrudgingly agreed to pay for his beer and food. As for Bucky, it was the curiosity that got him out of the building. Steve was looking around whilst pretending to listen to Sam and Bucky's bickering as to the origin of French fries. That was when he spotted you entering the bar, laughing at whatever your friend was telling you- your head thrown back from giddiness that you didn't notice him staring at you if it weren't for the way your friend elbowed you and pointed at him subtly, to which he averted his eyes to Sam and Bucky who were smirking at him.

You made your way to them, introducing your friend to them, putting a special emphasis on Bucky specifically to make him blushed. "I can't believe I'm seeing you here!" You gushed over to the three men, "This is my favorite bar! Did you order their specialty? It's out of this world!" You said excitedly, mimicking a chef kiss at the end of your sentence.

"Did you hear that, Steve?" Sam exaggeratedly said to the scowling man, with a smile so wide.

"What?" Steve grunted, drinking his beer despite knowing he couldn't get drunk, but he sure as hell wished he was. Bucky smirked at him, "She said this is her favorite bar."

Steve glared at Bucky, challenging him to say more, which prompted Bucky to smile in that annoying way of his. "That is news to me, Y/N."

"Uhm, okaaaaay. Well, gentlemen, we'll leave you to your own conversations. Sam, always a pleasure talking to you, Bucky, that shirt is doing wonders to you, Steve."

He was waiting for you to compliment him, when you waved and turned around, getting back to the conversation you were having with your friend.

He didn't know if he did something wrong, if he had offended you, if he wasn't breathtaking anymore as you had always told him he was, but the way you weren't giving him the daily dose of your teasing was unsettling him. It was the feeling of not really knowing for sure if you had locked your house, so you obsessively think of it the whole day.

It was days before he saw you again. You were in the cafeteria, eating lunch with you co-workers. Your cheerfulness evident even if he was sitting tables away from you. Natasha was going over the report with him, when she noticed that his eyes kept on flickering between Nat's laptop and behind her. She looked behind her and saw why he was so distracted. She snapped her finger in front of his face to get his attention, "Steve! Are you listening?"

"Yes."

She sighed, "Come ooooon. Just ask her out already."

Steve looked at her, bewildered by her suggestion, "I don't even like her!"

That was when Bucky spoke, when he was silent the whole time, not even bothering to lift his eyes, just continued munching on his burger. "Sure, you don't, buddy."

He didn't like you. He sure as hell didn't miss the way you gave him your attention. Nope. He couldn't help but looked over at your direction once again, when you looked up and saw him. You waved at him, with a smile on your lips, and got back to your conversation.

Work had really been busy, between that and your social life, teasing Captain America had not been your priority. To be honest, you felt bad for the guy now. You were just trying to verbally appreciate him- and maybe you went over too far. Your co-worked asked one day you if you were really in love with the man himself, to which you denied, saying that it was only a crush. Off handedly, she commented out that what you were doing, despite the fun you were having, was ruining Captain America's chance of meeting someone in the building because they all thought the two of you had something going on. That got you thinking, you knew he deserved someone, not you, but someone. And you need to stop trying to flirt with the man when he looked so agitated when you were even near the vicinity.

Which was why you almost jumped from your seat one late night you were spending in the office, when a large iced coffee from your favorite coffee shop landed softly on your table. You looked behind you and was extremely surprised when it was Captain America standing near you. He didn't say anything, just looked at you for a good minute and left. Your mouth agape, you followed his large, retreating form. You looked at the drink and sipped from it. Well, what do you know. It was your favorite drink.

A few days after that weird incident, you exited the building, rain pouring hard. You didn't bring umbrella, choosing to believe the weather channel that it would be dry and clear skies today. What a liar. You sighed and decided to brave the weather to go to your destination when a large hand gripped your elbow, effectively stopping you from walking under the rain. Captain America opened the large umbrella he was carrying, pulled you under his arm, and walked to the direction you were going to.

You didn't know what to say as the two of you walked, you were never this physically close to him, never even touching him for more than a second. You were now more than ever aware of the height difference between the two of you.

"You're gonna stay for long?"

"Oh, no. I'm just getting the files."

"I'll wait for you, then."

"Noooo, you don't have to I swear I'm gonna be okay-" He looked at you, his face stern, daring you to refuse. Okay. You wouldn't. Not when he's looking at you like that.

"And then after this, you're gonna tell me why you're avoiding me. And them I'm gonna ask you out, and if I'm still God's favorite, hopefully you'd say yes."

A week later, you walked in the building with none other than, God's greatest creation, Steve Rogers. No longer in denial with his feelings for you, his hand clasped yours, his eyes looking at you with warmth. He could finally be at ease, your attention finally back to him, and he wasn't planning on ever losing it.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the floor

"Pay up, bird."

"Take pity on a broke man?"

"Nope." Bucky smirked at Sam, his hand palm up, waiting for the twenty bucks Sam was slowly getting from his wallet.

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

Please take note that I give no permission for my work to be reposted or published anywhere other than on my Tumblr account.

REBLOGS ARE WELCOME!!! If you made it this far, comments are highly appreciated! Also, I don’t own the Marvel and any of their work, this is just purely a fanfiction written by a fan who has a huge crush on Steve :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans fanfiction

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amjustagirl · 3 years

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Childhood friends to lovers with Miya Osamu - 988 words of fluff

Setting up a tinder profile is remarkably easy.

A few carefully chosen photos, a witty description or two is all that’s needed to start fishing in the great blue sea for a potential lifemate or two. But it’s a lot harder when the subject of said profile is horrendously intransigent and ends up shooting each and every one of your suggestions down.

“Samu, when was the last time you went on a date?”

He stares at you, arms crossed over his broad chest stubbornly. “Two years ago?” he admits after you stare him down. “Doesn’t matter, online datin’ is stupid.”

“Loads of my friends find their significant others on tinder, there’s nothin’ to be ashamed of swiping right and left to find a partner”, you try to reason with him. It’s not that you want to interfere in your friend’s love life but his mother had been surprisingly persuasive and stubborn, inserting herself during your visits home on the weekends to complain about her younger son’s lack of marital prospects. It’s funny how she never mentions Atsumu’s lack of success in the dating arena - it’s almost as if she’s completely given up on him.

“Look! You should totally use this photo!!”

Your forehead creases with consternation. Atsumu’s piss poor judgment is probably the reason why he can’t seem to land himself any dates despite being a hot shot professional athlete. He’s managed to pick the worst photo of the lot, a picture of Osamu squatting on a bar counter, dressed in a shirt that seems about to burst at the seams, face flushed from too much alcohol. You remember that night - the twins had gone out to celebrate Atsumu signing on with the Black Jackals and had somehow wandered into a club, and not knowing their limits, you had to swing by and pick Osamu up from the side of the pavement and shove him into a cab.

“Absolutely not”, you snap, jabbing at another photo, one where no alcohol is involved, and Osamu is cuddling Bokuto’s very cute, very adorably, very slobbery (much like its owner) dog. “This one would be much better.”

“Yer such a stick in the mud, no wonder ya don’t have a boyfriend yerself.”

“I could get one if I wanted to”, you retort, always ready for a verbal spar with Atsumu.

“Then why don’t ya walk the talk and make a tinder profile for yerself?” he replies, taunting you with a smirk that might have gone viral on social media but isn't going to work on you. “Or are ya too chicken - “

You snatch your phone back. “I’ll show you”, you snarl, creating a tinder profile of your own with a vengeance, just typing whatever nonsensical description comes to mind. You’re about to shove your newly created tinder profile in Atsumu’s face when a large hand covers your screen.

“There’s no need for that”, Osamu says. “Ya can just go out with me and save us both the trouble.”

“Go where with you?” you ask, frowning. “What’s that got to do with our tinder profiles?”

Atsumu chortles. “Smooth, ‘Samu but I guess she’s a little dense, even after all these years.”

“Shut up, Tsumu!” Osamu shouts, promptly drop kicking his brother out of his kitchen before turning back to dense little you, who’s still standing in the middle of the kitchen, trying to figure his words out. “So what about it”, he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets, unable to look you in the eye. “Ya know every bit of me already, and I know all ya bad habits and bad temper inside out so ya ain’t gonna scare me off - “

“Wait - ” your lips pucker with disbelief as it finally hits you. Miya Osamu, your best friend, the boy you’ve grown up with, seeing him through mud pies to graduation gowns. “You’re seriously asking me out? LIke, romantically? This isn’t one of your pranks?”

“There she goes”, Atsumu remarks, head still poking into the kitchen even as his twin furiously gestures at him to get the fuck out and piss off, tisn’t yer business, fuckin’ Tsumu!

“Imma serious about this”, Osamu mumbles when his twin ducks out of the kitchen, though he knows for sure he’s gleefully eavesdropping outside, the tips of his ears reddening as he stares down at his fingers. It’s definitely not the romantic setting he’s imagined for a confession, but he’s chickened out so many times before he has to shoot his shot now, especially since you’re about to dip your toes into the big, bad world of online dating right before his very eyes and he’ll hate himself forever if someone else whisked you off before he even had a chance.

Please, he prays while waiting for your response. Say yes and he won’t try to strangle ‘Tsumu the next time he tries to steal his jacket or drive away customers with his incessant whinin’ - doesn’t even hide his fingers behind his back as he crosses it nervously and starts to bounce on the balls on his feet, so distracted that he almost misses the uncharacteristically meek ‘okay’ you squeak.

Confidence immediately restored, he shoots you a lazy grin. “Care to say that a lil’ louder, darlin’?”

“I said okay, okay?!” you scowl, voice raised in a shout. “I swear to the gods you Miya boys are always such a headache and a menace and - “

“But that means I’m yer headache from now on, right?” Osamu answers, wrapping his arm around your waist to interrupt you mid tirade.

You sigh, making a show of slapping your forehead. “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into, but okay”, you grouse, though you’re certainly not at all grumpy when he steals a kiss and you pay him back with another and soon you’re sort of but not really making out in the kitchen and on the verge of incurring all sorts of health code violations -

“OI! I’M STILL WAITIN’ OUT HERE! DON’T CONSUMMATE YOUR RELATIONSHIP BEFORE YOU EVEN GO ON A FIRST DATE!”

a/n: poor, idiot tsumu, how i love to clown him HAHA.

m.list.~ taglist.~

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu x y/n #osamu x you #osamu x y/n #osamu x reader #miya atsumu #inarizaki #Nikki hits a thousand!

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johnkrrasinski · 4 years

Text

be my baby;

full masterlist

Pairings: bucky barnes x camgirl!reader (modern au)

Word count: 1,834

Warning: SMUT. sexy times, cuss words, masturbation, (female & male). MUST BE 18+

Summary: you were a camgirl and bucky barnes was your favorite regular client. what happens when you realized you were catching feelings?

a/n: this one’s written for @candy-and-writing‘s 1000 followers writing challenge. congrats girl! i chose the prompt “you’re fucking beautiful.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

The screen of your laptop lit up, illuminating the dimmed room you were unchaperoned in. The ringing tone reverberated, waiting for you to accept the call, and the familiar face and those sapphire blue eyes emerged.

"Hey there, handsome." You coquettishly whispered.

"Hey, baby. You ready to make daddy feel good tonight?"

"Yes, daddy. I’m always ready for you." You writhed for the man on the screen.

Bucky had been one of your regular clients for three months now and he was irrefutably your favourite. Those hypnotizing blue eyes and that deep gravel voice, especially when he went into the full commanding mode, mandating you to please him; that smug look on his face when he triumphantly made you roll your eyes to the back of your head, and the way his gentle words would soothe you afterwards made you wish he was right there in the same room as you instead of being linked by internet access. Sometimes you'd think that you were falling for the man, but the stringent voice in your head would quickly clear those daydreams away saying, "no! you gotta be professional. He probably has a girlfriend or a wife in real life." (and you swear you didn't hear your heart fracturing at the thought)

"Good girl. Always so obedient for daddy, huh?" you nodded. "Now take off that bra and those panties, then lean back and spread your legs wide for me."

"Yes, daddy," you followed his orders; spreading your legs wide, putting each on the sides of your laptop, giving him a full display of your glistening cunt.

"Such a pretty cunt. Now, rub that clit for me, c'mon."

You slowly slid your fingers down from your bare chest, to your belly and then to the spot that he wanted you to touch. You made a circling motion on the sensitive bundle of nerves. You shut your eyes as you let yourself relish the pleasure. You whimpered with your mouth open and bit your lip to suppress it.

"Play with your tits baby." Your other hand move to your breast and you groped the globe and then you pinched the nipple. "Yeah, just like that. God, you're so fucking beautiful." You moaned at the piquant sting, and you rubbed your clit more furiously as you felt yourself getting more soaked. You felt the familiar bubble forming in your abdomen ready to burst in seconds.

"Can I cum daddy, please?" You whined as you kept playing with your breast and fingers nudging the bud.

"Not yet babygirl, now insert two fingers inside that cunt."

You did as he said, and shoved two digits through your tight entrance and you moved them in and out as you felt your fingers getting drenched, the squelching sounds elevated the eroticism in the scene.

"Keep one hand on your sexy tits baby, yeah fuck that cunt for me."

As you shut your eyes once more, trying to focus on stroking the spot that pushes you to the edge every time, you heard the sound of him unzipping his pants, and he pulled down his boxer to his thighs, just enough to let his massive cock spring free.

His fingers circled around his shaft, pumping himself up and down, as he kept his sight fixated on you, watching every movement you make, the way your face contorted in pleasure and your brows furrowed, and euphonious sounds escaping your lips, it riled his cock more and more, getting it as hard and as stiff as a rock.

"Goddamnit, you're so fucking gorgeous." He grunted through his ragged breathing. "Think of my giant cock destroying that cunt, using you like the dirty little slut you are." His words caused shivers cascading your spine, as you envisioned being pinned underneath him with you ass up in the air and your face squeezed to the pillow.

You squirmed as your cries grew an octave higher, picturing his hands wrapped around your throat as he pounded into you vigorously from behind, not giving you any mercy or repose.

"Gonna fuck you until you're braindead until you can't do anything else but beg for my cock to make you cum like a whore." You picked up the pace, shoving your fingers relentlessly and thrashed around on the sheets.

You felt yourself clenching around your own digits, the tightening coil was seconds away into plummeting you into bliss. "Oh god, please, I'm so close daddy, please!" You pleaded through your ragged breathing as you arched your back.

"Beg louder, baby."

"I need to cum now, daddy! Please!" Your heart pounded against your ribcage, a common aftereffect from your sessions with Bucky.

"Attagirl. Cum for me babygirl, show me what a dirty little whore you are for me."

A few more vehement onslaughts and your abdomen convulsed. Your orgasm erupted, clouding your brain with euphoria, knocking the breath out of your lungs. Your body shook as your cries echoed on the walls of your room.

Bucky was still running his hand up and down, reaching his own impending climax. He felt his cock twitching and in a few more pumps, he shot out ribbons of his thick load all over his stomach. He growled as he envisioned painting your womb white with his seed, burying himself deep inside you until every last drop was stored.

He threw his head back and cussed in front of the camera. It was truly a magnificent sight. Man, Bucky knew what he signed up for in the first place and that every girl on this website would keep it strictly professional and online but, the number of times he’d fantasized about taking you on a date to a nice restaurant and then bring you home afterwards to fuck you against the bathroom wall or in front of the mirror all night long would easily give you a reason to kick him out or conclude any sexual engagements with him in the future. Bucky was too madly infatuated with you to risk it.

You were the only thing he looked forward to after a long, dull day at work. You had an edge around you that just pulled him in like a magnet, once he had a taste of you, he was addicted. And he hadn’t even physically tasted you yet. God, he could imagine just how sweet you would taste on his tongue. But you were also capable of being the ideal submissive that he desired. Those doe eyes looking at him through the lens and the way you’d bite your lip innocently, teasing him like the devil. It drove him nuts. And he only longed for more.

Bucky always thought that he wasn’t the type to settle down in a relationship but, if he were, you would exactly be the type of girl that could make him change his mind. Sometimes within the one-hour sessions that he had with you, he would tell you about his day and get all the tension of his chest to you and you would be an excellent listener, always paying attention to every word and never failed to making relieve him of the stress. Along the way, you both felt like you had known each other better than most people that you interacted with in real lives.

Was he catching feelings for you? No, no, no, for fuck’s sake, get it together, Barnes! She only saw you as another of her client!

The thought of you exposing every inch of your body to other men and women caused an extreme detestation in him and it was bugging the hell out of him.

“You did good, babygirl.”

“Thank you, daddy. Do you feel good?”

“Absolutely.” His smile was warm, a contrast to the one that would show when he was tormenting you.

“Do you wanna talk about your day, daddy?”

“Nothing new. Just another boring day at the job.”

“Well, at least mine is the complete opposite.” You winked at him.

He chuckled, amused by your witty remark. Then it was quiet for a few seconds.

“Babygirl, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah? What is that, daddy?”

“I know I agreed that we’d keep it strictly professional but, goddamnit, I can’t get you out of my mind for the last few months now. And you’re just… God, you’re fucking amazing. So I was wondering, would you like to meet up? I’ll take you on a nice date, and I’ll pick you up wherever you are.”

You were tongue-tied. You’d always thought that Bucky was never interested to see you in person. You always wondered about him, composing fiction in your head, every night before you drift into a deep slumber, based on all the data that he decided to share with you. You always imagined about kissing him, being on your knees for him as you wrapped your lips around his manhood, and using your body like a ragdoll. Because that’s the only place where you could touch him and feel him.

And now here he was, asking you if you were interested in meeting him in person and go on a date with him. You know that when you first applied for this job, you vowed to yourself that you’d keep it strictly professional and that you’d never let your feelings defeat your common sense. But those oaths were disrupted since the day this job introduced you to Bucky.

You couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or woeful for that.

But now you knew that it was the former. Because everything you had dreamt of for the last three months came true and you were bubbling with joy. You were ecstatic, like a girl who had just been asked by her crush to go to prom with him.

“Yes, yes daddy! I wanna go on a date with you.”

“You serious?” His expression was elated.

“Yes! I’d love to know you more, daddy.”

“Oh man, I should’ve been more prepared, so… How about you give me your number and text me your address later? This Saturday, 8 PM. Sounds good?”

“Yes, daddy. It does.”

“Alright. God, I can't fucking wait to see that beautiful face in person… Oh and by the way, you don’t have to call me daddy when we’re not getting each other off, baby. You can call me Bucky. I love to hear the sound of my name rolling off your tongue.”

“Okay, Bucky.”

You exchanged number before you ended the session and you instantly texted your address. What an odd coincidence it is that you both lived in New York. He worked at Wall Street and he reminded you that he was going to be at your front door at 8 PM this Saturday. You were jittery, anticipating for the weekend. You didn’t know if he was going to be as wonderful as he seemed to be in real life or if the date would lead to something more between you, but one thing that you knew for sure was that you certainly needed to shop for a new dress.

#candys1000writingchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan

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thekatebridgerton · 3 years

Note

penelope as LW: *sounds like a wise old lady who Knows absolutely Everything and hints at Scandalous Stuff*

penelope in reality: pregnant??? without getting married??? how is that possible???????? ????????????? tHrOuGh LOVE?????????????? *insert confused woman meme*

I mean it checks out do you know how many 15 yo in AO3 who have never had a boyfriend write better smut than seasoned sex experts?

Penelope was just following the age old tradition of embellish fanfiction with imagination and sounding legit. There are teens in AO3 who know more about sex than I do. Heck I learned about sex from AO3 and we're all total virgins in real life

Penelope being Lady Whistledown at 16 without knowing anything about scandalous stuff and sounding like she was an experienced woman is actually one of the most realistic things there is in the whole franchise.... (When you're someone who started writing fanfiction at age 12 and never looked back, this checks out)

In the books and in the show. Penelope is faking it. Totally! But she's a writer! Faking it in print is part of what we do.

I could write better smut at 16 than I can now because at 16 I had a bigger imagination. And things like 'human physiology' and 'physical impossibilities' didn't bother me.

I can imagine how proud Penelope was of people who read Lady Whistledown and thought she knew about bedroom stuff and what rakes did in Covent garden after dark. Girl had mad writing skills. No wonder her publisher loved her. Experienced woman yeah right, girl just spent too much time listening to people talk while they were ignoring her and put two and two together.

If you notice LW never actually goes into specifics when she talks about things Penelope doesn't know the specifics of. She just hints at it with some witty remark or some metaphor that will get people going, she doesn't have to know about scandals to pretend she does, as long as her readers have their mind dirty enough, a clever turns of phrase will do the trick.

Penelope doesn't have to outright say Anthony was cannodling with Sienna in Lady Whistledown. She doesn't know the dynamics of what happens between a lord and his mistress. But her readers do, so she just must hint that a certain Viscount and a beautiful opera singer frequently sought out by many men were seen together at so and so ball. The waging tongues will do the rest

But truthfully Penelope is the perfect example of a fanfiction author who can write smut like a pro, yet in real life is the most innocent looking virgin ever.

Reason #5365 why I'm #teamPenelope

Ps: Hey adult followers here's a question for those who read fanfiction. What type of stuff did you read and write at age 16? Personally I was already reading the Bridgerton books and Christina Dodd's governess bride series when I was 14, so at 16 there might have been worse things...

Right Pen?

#fanfiction authors #who is with me #Penelope Featherington #lady Whistledown

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cotccotc · 3 years

Text

genre/s: felix x barista!reader (gender neutral), fluff, angst, coworkers to lovers au, bakery / barista au (feat. baker / bff!minho, (strict) manager!chan, barista!jeongin, and baker!seungmin)

wc: 6.9k 😎

warnings: many mentions of food (specifically sweets such as cupcakes, brownies, cookies, etc.), some swearing, arguing, probably very poor editing oops <3

a/n: this is part of the @districtninewriters “dear skz, with love” event :D THIS IS ALSO THE LONGEST FIC I’VE EVER WRITTEN AHHH i’m really really proud of it !!! i hope u love it besties !!!!!!!!

it was a frostbitten february evening when you met the boy at the bakery.

you were seated upon the counter, back turned to the deep brown door through which you’d first entered months ago, eager to apply for a barista position. minho sat across from you on the cashier stool. he was always better with the baked goods. you were a great team. the two of you were bored; a familiar feeling that accompanied weeknights at the bakery-cafe. people tended to arrive either in the morning time or late in the afternoon, and very seldom later. plus, your manager trusted the two of you enough to lock up on your own. and so, the two of you would be left to your own devices for a few measly hours a night per week.

“i bet you couldn’t make a batch of sugar biscuits without instructions,” he teased with a snarky grin. he was right. that was more his thing than yours.

so, you retaliated. “i bet you can’t do the same with a mocha frappe. or even simpler: an iced americano.”

“please!”

“oh yeah? step right up, biscuit boy,” you retorted with a giggle, gesturing to the coffee maker that sat beside him. there were multiple in the shop, and truth be told, he had no idea which was used for what types of beverages.

confidently, he grabbed a cup from the stack on the table behind him, striding over to one of the machines. he then took a look at all the knobs and buttons, clearing his throat. you chuckled. with his finger ghosting over one of the buttons, he turned back toward you to check for your reaction. “not even close,” you remarked. he clicked his tongue, turning back toward the coffee maker. “just a hint,” you added, “the first step isn’t coffee.”

he simply looked up, bewildered. he turned back toward you, dropping his hands to his sides and parting his lips into a circular expression of disbelief.

suddenly, the sparkling tone of the door chime behind you caught both of your attention. peculiar. nobody was usually around at that hour. as minho put his cup back on the table, you hopped off the counter, turning toward the front of the store.

in walked one of the most strikingly handsome boys you think you’ve ever seen. if not the most handsome. an angular face; fair, slightly pink-tinted skin decorated with the most endearing assortment of freckles. they were almost reminiscent of the chocolate sprinkles minho used to top off the cupcakes situated inside the glass counter case. his hair was a vanilla blond and long enough to delicately cascade over the side edges of his face. cherry red lips that parted upon his arrival, chocolatey brown eyes staring right back at yours. he was astonishing.

“how can we help you?” minho asked him, stepping forward. he couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes seemed to be bugging out of your head. he had to stifle a chuckle or two.

the boy’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment. or maybe you dreamed it that way. regardless, he walked up to the counter, inquisitively placing his hands behind his back and bent over to glance at the contents of the case. “hi! uh…” he seemed sweet, though his voice was much deeper than you’d expected. it was unique. he was unique. and in quite a rush, as well. “...shit,” he cursed under his breath. he seemed to have startled himself with his expression. he looked back up at you, then at minho, a tight-lipped smile and strawberry-pink blush appearing on his face. “sorry,” he said.

minho finally let out a chuckle. “no worries. what’re you looking for?” he was always so good with the customers. smooth yet considerate, witty, yet firm. you always aspired to be a little more like minho when it came to customer service.

“do you have any of the salted caramel cupcakes left? they seem to be gone.”

“ah, we seem to have run out of those. could i interest you in a peanut butter cupcake instead?”

the boy shook his head. “no… she likes caramel.”

she. there was a she.

“may i ask what the occasion is?” minho asked.

“it’s my mom’s birthday, and she’ll be home from work soon... hopefully. i would’ve made my own gift to her but i didn’t have the time…”

“enough said,” your coworker assured him. “does she like chocolate? we have a few salted caramel brownies in the back.”

he almost gasped. “that’s perfect!” he paused. “um… how much is that? i-is it more than the cupcake, or…?”

minho glanced through the glass at the tag beside the brownie tray. “nope. less, actually.”

the boy let out a short sigh of relief. “great. thanks so much.”

“ah, it’s nothing. one sec,” minho said before walking into the kitchen to grab the brownie from the fridge. an awkward silence ensued between you and the boy.

“a name for the order?” you blurted. dumbass, you thought to yourself.

“i’m… the only one in the store…” he replied.

heat rose to your cheeks. “i… um… it’s protocol-”

“felix.” he cut you off before you could embarrass yourself further. he could tell you were nervous.

a unique name as well. of course.

“coming right up, felix,” you murmured, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. both of you chuckled.

minho came back out to the counter holding a small blue box with the cafe logo on top. “you’re all set! that’ll be…” he pressed few buttons into the cash register before continuing. “ten thousand won.”

“perfect.” felix grabbed his wallet out of his coat pocket. he pulled out a few bills from the black leather case, handing them to minho with a small smile. he was excited to surprise his mother, and happy that it wouldn’t cost as much as he’d thought it would. and you found it adorable.

minho took the money, ringing felix up and inserting the bills into the register. he handed felix the box, which made the boy’s face light up even more. it was hard for you to suppress a similar countenance. “i hope she likes it. have a good night!” minho said, closing the register. he crossed his arms and leaned on the counter as felix waved to the both of you and began walking back toward the door.

“thanks so much. you too,” he said, giving minho a small bow.

with his hand on the door, he glanced back at you once more. you smiled. he returned the expression. and just like that, with a brief gust of cold air sweeping through the shop, the boy was gone.

“you, uh… you know we only take names when there’s a line, right?” minho teased as the door shut, the chime letting out what seemed to be a pitied laugh.

you held your hands up to your forehead. “ugh, i know! i’m such an idiot,” you replied, letting your nerves go with a chuckle. he patted you on the shoulder, laughing with you.

in between laughs, he remarked, “he really made you that nervous, huh?”

“you could tell?! oh, great… wonderful!”

the two of you carried on for a moment, making light of the otherwise mortifying exchange. but finally, minho glanced at the clock and asked, “would you mind locking up tonight? i’ve got a date.”

“ooh!” you cooed, taunting him. “a date... who’s the not-so-lucky lady?”

“what joke book did you get that one from, hm? i had no idea you even knew how to read!” you gave him a playful punch in the arm for his sarcastic dig, causing him to giggle. yet, he answered your question, saying, “it’s a girl i met on the train home from school the other night. chaeyoung.” he looked off to the side, seemingly entranced. “she’s really witty and smart… and gorgeous. like... gorgeous.”

“ah, yes… so gorgeous that it causes men to leave their posts… and friends…”

“if i bring you back some takeout, will you quit being an ass?”

you pondered the question for a moment. and, while you’d be bored as hell in his absence, closing up the shop wasn’t much of a hassle on weeknights… and, well, you could always go for a free meal. “...pleasure doing business with you, lee minho.”

“thank you. as with you,” he commented in return. he took off the periwinkle blue, involuntarily worn apron which you’ve both been made to wear, revealing what you hadn’t even noticed was a dressy outfit. well, dressier than usual. he’d opted for a pale blue button-up shirt, tucked into black skinny jeans, all tied together by a chic black belt and a pair of black loafers. not to mention the small silver hoop earrings and matching necklace. you had to admit, he did look dapper.

he quickly strode to the back of the kitchen at which there resided a small storage room where you and the other employees usually dropped off your belongings. he grabbed his backpack and put on his long black coat, quickly making his way back up to the counter and walking around to the front of the store. “catch you tomorrow! thanks again.”

“takeout! don’t forget!”

“i couldn’t even if i tried,” he retorted, opening the door. the two of you waved to each other before he took his leave.

moments later, the door opened once again. you figured minho must’ve forgotten something. looking up, you began to ask, “what’d you forget this ti-”

it wasn’t minho.

it was felix.

he paused in his footing, little blue box still in hand. you jumped just a little. he noticed. “s-sorry… i just, um…” he looked off to the side. “i guess this is a bit of a long shot... considering the two of you seem to be more than enough staff… but…” he paused again, taking a moment to straighten his posture and scratch the back of his head. “is there any chance you might be hiring… any time soon?”

the answer was no. undoubtedly. he was right in thinking that you, minho, and the other employees were perfectly capable of handling the cafe. though some mornings and weekends were a bit tight, the team made it work. if this was anybody else, you could’ve easily said no.

yet, he persisted. “i can bake! i like to think i’ve been getting better at it… and i can clean as well.”

you couldn’t turn him down. you simply couldn’t. not with those kind eyes locking themselves with yours, the enthusiasm in his deep voice, or the hastening beat of your heart. “i’ll talk to my manager!” you affirmed. you smiled, causing a similar reaction out of him. an idea popped into your mind. if only for a moment, you thought it was the best you’d ever had. your eyes averted themselves to the pale yellow note pad and ballpoint pen on the counter, used to take orders from seated customers. “here,” you said, reaching for the pen and paper and handing it to felix. “if you’ll give me your number, i can text you with any updates.”

he walked back up to the counter for the second time that night, taking his number down on the pad. as you watched him intently, eyes fixated on his concentrated face, you silently praised yourself for being so brave. especially after the whole name debacle. your heart was at its wits’ end. “there,” he said, placing the pen down on the counter and sliding the notepad back to you. “i really appreciate it.” he sounded so genuine. he flashed you another smile. he had such a grand, bright, toothy smile. it would stay in your memory for days, weeks, even months to come. you can still recall it now.

“it’s no problem,” you responded. “...i really hope your mom likes the brownie.”

“thanks. i’m sure she will.” he turned to walk toward the door. you almost turned away as well, excited to examine the style with which he’d written on the pad, until he spun back around once more. “oh! one more thing… can i get your name as well?”

the question came as a bit of a surprise. you nodded to him, letting out a short giggle. “y/n.”

he grinned again. it was smaller that time; a bit more subdued. effortfully so. “ah. well…” he began walking backward, eyes connected with yours as he headed toward the door. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, felix.”

and thus, your pursuit for a job offering began.

your manager, chan, was reluctant to accept your proposal for him to give felix an interview. however, you made note of how eager he’d seemed that night and the skills he’d mentioned having. you also mentioned how he’d been so enthused to find out the price of his order. and so, after a couple days’ worth of mulling it over, chan finally gave in.

you weren’t supposed to be at the cafe when felix was being interviewed. however, your saturday afternoon shift had just ended, and the place was essentially empty. well… apart from you, chan, felix, and then jeongin, who wandered in from the storage room to find you eavesdropping from behind the wall separating the kitchen and the dining area.

“y/n?” he asked. “what are you-”

you inaudibly shushed him, motioning for him to come closer and hide with you. he did so.

“chan’s interviewing someone,” you whispered to the boy.

“ah…” he responded, his tone hushed. “so why are we hiding?”

“because we’re not supposed to be listening.”

“so why are we doing it?”

“because i want to know how it’s going.”

“so why can’t you just-”

you shushed him again. he obliged, covering his mouth with his hand.

from the other side of the wall, chan asked, “so felix, do you have a resume?”

“uh…” felix stammered. you could hear the nerves in his voice.

“let me put it this way,” chan offered instead. “do you have any prior working experience? at another cafe, another store, a completely different place...?”

“oh! yes. i’ve bagged groceries at the supermarket on third street for the last few months. that’s where my mom works. but i’d much rather work here, if i’m honest...”

“ah. okay.” chan nodded, jotting down some notes in his notebook. “so y/n told me you could clean...”

before chan could finish, felix proudly exclaimed, “i can! i do a lot of cleaning at home.”

“perfect.”

the interview went on for a few more minutes. jeongin let out a few silent chuckles every once in a while, mocking your state of concentration. but who could blame you? you just wanted to make sure felix got the position. he seemed to need it.

you totally weren’t in it for his smile… the freckles… the adorable creases that formed at the edges of his eyes when he grinned with that sweet, genuine, toothy grin of his… no, not at all…

nevertheless, he got the job.

“i love this apron,” felix had said to you on his first day. he was quite fond of your uniform. everyone else in the shop hated them; what, with the pale blue color, white pinstripe pattern, and the ‘one-size-fits-all’ design. yet, in every sense of the phrase, it fit felix perfectly.

“i’m glad someone does,” you replied. he laughed.

“when i got the cleaning job, i wasn’t sure i’d get to wear one. but i’m happy i do.” he smiled at you, his pearlescent teeth on full display and face aglow with joy.

after about a week of training, felix became a natural at his job. though it wasn’t much, he took great pride in his work and enjoyed taking any opportunity he saw to do a little extra sweeping, some more dish washing, and even some dusting here and there.

he also fit right into the employee dynamic. every once in a while, you’d find him playing hand games with jeongin. or, sometimes, minho would discuss baking with him, as he often noted his affinity for it.

“have you ever tried using oats in your chocolate chip cookies?” felix asked. it was monday night. and, as per usual, the shop was devoid of customers.

minho looked puzzled. “oats?”

“yeah. it adds a little nuttiness. it’s really, really good.”

“huh… i’ll have to try it out sometime. i like to add a bit of coffee grounds to the flour when i make mine.” then, he leaned in to whisper, “don’t tell chan, though.” felix let out a nervous giggle.

“don’t worry,” you said to him. “minho’s only kidding. i’d never let him touch my coffee grounds.” this made all three of you laugh.

after the laughter died down, felix looked at the clock. it was four in the afternoon. “well, my shift is over,” he said. you were disappointed. hanging out with felix had become a bit of a highlight for you. he always carried himself so kindly. he had a bubbly soul, and a pure twinkle took residence in his eye whenever he smiled. you couldn’t help but feel light and airy while around him.

“hey, i’ve been meaning to ask,” minho started to felix. “do you bike here?”

the other boy was confused. “no. why?”

“oh… then, do you walk?”

“yeah. it’s only a few blocks,” felix responded, shrugging.

“do you need a ride?”

felix paused to think. “don’t you need to stay here? to lock up and everything…”

“i’ll come right back.”

you chimed in, suggesting, “i can close tonight.”

“you sure?” minho asked you. “i don’t have any food to bribe you with this time.” you both chuckled.

“it’s fine by me,” you said.

minho thanked you, stating once again that he owed you. the amount of times you’d done this for him was countless. but you never seemed to mind. and so, off they went. you were glad felix had integrated into the friend group so well. you supposed that he was just that loveable.

when it finally came time for you to close up shop having not received any other customers for the night, you waltzed into the storage room to grab your things. however, you noticed something strange sitting atop one of the shelves that hadn’t been there that morning.

an envelope. with your name on it. and a tupperware container filled with a single slice of what looked like chocolate cake.

your heart flinched. you were shocked. flustered, flushed. confused… but endeared. you hesitated. shakily, you tore open the cream-colored envelope’s seal, careful not to rip too much. you wanted to preserve its crisp smoothness.

“y/n,” the note said...

“a gift to you,

a chocolatey treat,

a token of thanks

for being so sweet.

~ me”

your heart fluttered. you ran to the kitchen, opening the container and grabbing a freshly-cleaned fork from the metal sink. you dried it off on your apron before excitedly digging into the dessert. it was more of a brownie than a cake, you realized, with melted chocolate chunks stuffed inside. it tasted amazing.

you began wondering who this mystery gifter could’ve been. it couldn’t have been minho… it simply couldn’t have. the two of you were much too close. and he was always more confident than anybody you’d met. if he liked you, you would have already known. besides, things seemed to be going well with him and chaeyoung. no… this had to be someone else. jeongin, perhaps. he did always made such high praises about your cappuccino-crafting abilities. you looked to your left and right, peering around the kitchen for signs of life. but alas, you were all alone in the cafe.

then it hit you.

of course...

felix.

you recalled the first time you met. when you had him jot his number down on the piece of paper. you remembered his handwriting; the way some characters curled on the ends, the rounded shape of his letter e, the squiggly line he used before he signed his name… it was felix. it had to be.

and you were ecstatic.

the next day, you entered the shop to find a full house. it was a saturday morning, after all. you enjoyed the breakfast rush, mainly because you got the chance to show off your coffee-making skills. you made your way to the kitchen, greeting jeongin at the counter on your way in. you said hello to minho and seungmin as well, who were busy stand-mixing and hand-folding various types of batter. they were a great team, especially on mornings like those. though they tended to bicker about ingredients and proportions, the sweet treats they’d concoct always turned out excellently.

finally, felix emerged from the storage area, duster in hand. when he saw you, however, he froze. with his eyes wide and cheeks beginning to flush, he greeted you. “h-hi, y/n… good morning!”

you let out a bit of a giggle. does he know that i know? you asked yourself. granted, the mysterious gift giver signed off as ‘me,’ so you couldn’t say you were positive… but this reaction told you otherwise. “morning!”

he nodded, smiling nervously. he gestured to the storage room. “the shelves in there are all dusted now.”

“great! i think i’ll… um…” you pointed to the room, slipping past him to stash away your belongings and put on your apron.

“yep! you… do that…” he muttered as you walked away.

however, when you walked in, you found something peculiar displayed upon the shelf.

another envelope. and another container.

you turned back toward the door to find felix peeking in. you chuckled. “so it was you!”

he stepped to the side, coming into full view. “how’d you know?” he asked.

“i just… had a feeling.” you grinned.

he paused, a tight-lipped smile spread across his face. “well, open it.”

you placed your coat and bag on one of the shelves below. you then opened up the envelope just like you had the previous night: meticulously, yet enthralled. it read,

“another dessert

for a person so sweet

will you honor me kindly,

and go out with me?

YES / NO

~ me”

once you looked back up at him, felix commented, “you were supposed to circle one…” he then began rambling. “i thought you didn’t come in until later. you don’t have to say anything right now, or at all, and-”

though you thought it adorable, you cut off his nervous prattle, stating, “yes.”

his eyes grew even wider, his strawberry tinted lips forming a circular shape. “you mean…”

“i’ll go out with you, felix,” you confirmed.

his face lit up. and yours did, too.

thus, one date became two, two became four…

by the end of february, you were officially a couple.

you were a perfect match. each of you complimented each other so well, rivaling the bittersweetness of a good cappuccino when paired with a light and fluffy slice of cake. like minho, felix’s baking abilities and knowledge never ceased to amaze you. you explained the ins and outs of coffee brewing while he told you all about how he bakes his tasty treats. he even showed you some of the recipes his mom handed down to him from generations past.

his mom sounded so wonderful… yet, a part of you felt so sorry for her. felix’s dad left when he was young, and she’s always had to fend for herself and her son all on her own. however, when she was let go from her office position the previous year, things began to spiral. she took up two jobs: one at the local grocery store and another waitressing at a restaurant in the next town. she was always so busy. but felix understood. he tried helping out, especially by working at the supermarket with her that fall. nothing seemed to get any better.

that is, until he landed his job at the cafe.

felix constantly thanked you for helping him out. chan paid him a considerable amount more than what he’d received at the supermarket, which helped him and his mother out greatly. anything would. aside from telling how lovely, smart, witty, and gorgeous you were, felix’s mission in life was to remind you how you’d saved it.

one monday, you entered the storage room on your break to find a sight all too familiar. a handwritten note and small sliver of baked loveliness, all wrapped up in a metaphorical bow of allure and intrigue. nevertheless, however, you were still just as giddy as the first time you’d received one of felix’s treats. suddenly, you felt a finger graze along your shoulder, moving your hair to the side as an arm wrapped itself around your waist. two warm, pillowy lips made contact with your cheek, gently pecking the skin. felix.

you let out a giggle. “is this for me?” you asked, facetiously.

“of course,” he muttered beside your ear, his tone low, entrancing, and chill-inducing. he kissed your cheek again, holding you close and swaying you from side to side. “it’s another brownie. try it,” he suggested as his chin settled upon your shoulder.

you did as he said, biting into the small slice of fudgy goodness. to your surprise, chunks of melted caramel oozed out of the dessert, cutting through the rich chocolatiness of the brownie with a tangy edge. you hummed in satisfaction. “a salted caramel brownie,” you noted, swallowing your bite.

he chuckled. “i figured i’d finally try it out, maybe give some to my mom… do you like it?”

you placed the sweet back into its container and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you smiled. “i love it, lix. thank you.”

he grinned back at you. pulling you closer by the waist, he sealed the space between his lips and yours with a kiss. his lips were always even softer and more captivating than the texture of his confections. sweeter, too.

after his lips left yours, he gazed into your eyes, holding you close. “open the note, love.”

you excitedly spun back around, doing as instructed. opening the crisp white envelope seal and pulling out the folded sheet of paper, you read its contents.

“a caramel kiss

for you, my love.

i can’t give you the world.

but i hope i’m enough.

~ felix”

you paused. you were puzzled. visibly so, you figured, since when you turned around the look on felix’s face shifted.

he took your hand in his, rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumb. he kept his head down as he spoke. “i wish i could do more. i wish i could take you out to nice places, bake you batches of your favorite sweets, get you real gifts…”

a sharp pain struck your heart. “lix…” you murmured. “i don’t need any of those things. and as far as i’m concerned, these are ‘real gifts.’ they come from your heart. that’s as real as it gets.”

“i know, love, but…”

you placed a hand on his cheek, guiding him to look back up at you. “you don’t even have to do this stuff for me. i know that you care.”

he gave you a forced, shy smile. “okay. i’m glad.” he placed his own hand on top of yours, warm fingertips pressing gently against your skin.

“felix! y/n!” chan called from the kitchen. it was saturday night, and the last of the day’s customers were taking their leave. you were standing by the coffee-makers, in the middle of telling felix about the time you’d bested jeongin in a macchiato-making contest during a breakfast rush.

both of you turned toward the kitchen door, concerned. chan poked his head out. “can you come here a minute?” he looked serious. something was wrong.

nevertheless, the two of you obliged. holding hands, you made your way to the kitchen, led by chan to the cooling racks. “what’s up?” you asked.

chan cleared his throat before shoving his hands into his pockets. “i have reason to believe that one of you, or both, has violated protocol.”

you quickly grew confused. felix’s hand tightened around yours. you glanced at him, noticing how his face flushed pale. “uh…” he stammered.

“early this morning, seungmin pointed out that we’re low on cocoa powder. now, that’s odd, especially considering we had three cans of it yesterday. now we only have two.” you both nodded at him, following along. “...so i took a look at the camera footage.”

felix let go of your hand. “c-cameras?” he stuttered. you were even more confused.

“yeah. the cameras,” chan confirmed, looking felix dead in the eye. “i watched the footage from yesterday. and the day before.”

felix gulped. “you… you did….”

“what the hell is going on?” you asked.

chan let out a bit of a sigh. “y/n. were you aware that felix has been taking ingredients from the kitchen?”

your heart dropped.

you glanced at your boyfriend. he glanced back at you. he then bit his bottom lip, averting his eyes down to the floor. you looked back at chan, calmly answering, “no… i had no idea.”

“is that true?” chan asked.

“yes.” you then turned to felix, face ablaze. “it’s true.”

“then in that case, you can go for the night. i’d like to talk to felix. alone.”

after one last unreciprocated look at your boyfriend, you quickly rummaged through the storage room, collected your things, and left. you stood outside of the cafe, waiting for whatever might happen next. your stomach was doing flips. you couldn’t possibly believe what you’d heard.

minutes elapsed. it felt more like hours. all you could think to do was lean up against a lamp post and watch the gloomy clouds shift overhead. the sun was close to being fully set, casting a deep purple tint over the whole street landscape. and it looked as though it was about to rain.

after what felt like an exorbitantly long time, felix emerged from the shop. the door closed behind him as he bolted down the steps and onto the pavement, that familiar chime sending a chill through you. it sounded almost eerie that night. out of place. taunting.

“lix,” you called. you walked behind him, despite his quickening pace. but he wouldn’t stop or slow down. “lix,” you exclaimed again. no answer. finally, you grabbed his arm, realizing his apron was gone, and shouted, “felix! slow down.”

he scoffed, stopping dead in his tracks. “he fired me.”

you stared at him, blankly. once again, you couldn’t believe it.

“i tried to do something nice, and he fired me.”

“do you think it makes me feel any better?” you asked. “you getting yourself fired so you could make me little brownie experiments?” you paused, taking a deep breath. you were outraged. more so with yourself. you should’ve asked how he was finding the time or the resources to be doing what he was doing. you should’ve known. “i thought you needed this job. when were you gonna tell me you were a thief?”

“a thief?!” felix’s eyes seemed to be bulging out of his head. he was surprised at your verbiage. he’d never seen you upset like this. “y/n, i’m not a thief.” you rolled your eyes. his cheeks flushed crimson. a prickling sensation began around his eyes. a stinging, almost. tears. he looked down at his sneakers. tattered white converse. the same ones he wore every day to work. the same ones on which he’d splattered a few droplets of brownie batter during his latest attempt at making you a gift. now, it just looked like a stain of mud. “i didn’t just take cocoa powder. i took eggs… some milk… a couple cups of flour here and there… my mom got demoted at the restaurant. she works the bar now. she thinks i asked for the stuff. so yeah, i did need this job! i do need it. i just fucked up...” under his breath, trying not to give into the tears that prodded at his eyes, he remarked, “‘little brownie experiments’... that’s all they ever were to you? little brownie experiments...”

you realized what you’d said. of course that’s not all they were to you. they were everything to you. but that isn’t what you’d said. “lix… i-”

“you know what, you’re right,” he muttered, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes rapidly blinking to avoid the inevitable. “they probably weren’t even all that good.”

you took a step closer to him. a drop of water fell onto your shoulder from above. “no.. no, that’s not what i-”

but, as quickly as you approached him, he stepped back. he locked eyes with you once again. his eyes were glossy; tainted with the aftereffects of a broken heart. suddenly, a steady stream of drizzling rain began to fall from the night sky above you. felix’s lip quivered. yet, with a furrowing brow, he continued. “you know what, maybe this was all a mistake.” his voice cracked a bit; frayed at the edges. “maybe i should’ve gotten a different job. at a place that would pay me enough to be able to buy my own shit and pay my mom’s bills.” the rain fell harder now, coating his hair and dragging it down over his face. you didn’t even feel it as it completely drenched you as well.

seeing him like this affected you just as much as your words did him. guilt. the panging, crushing weight of guilt laid heavily upon your heart. “felix…” you whimpered, tears of your own beginning to cloud your line of sight. though, you could still see clear enough to watch him shake his head, turning around and beginning his ascent up the avenue. clear as ever. even despite the pitter-patter of evening gloom.

sopping wet, you marched back into the shop. you ripped off your apron, throwing it down upon the counter. you then walked back behind it to start preparing to close up for the night. all you wanted was to go home.

that is, until you spotted an envelope tucked beside the cappuccino maker.

a creamy white envelope, with your name and a heart inscribed on the back. and a tupperware container. a single teardrop descended from the corner of your eye, resembling the droplets of rain that covered your form. you carefully took hold of the envelope. you gently tore it open, making sure not to rip it, just like you’d done the very first and subsequent times.

“another present

for my love;

my dear y/n,

sent from above.

~ felix”

a drop of rain fell from your hair onto the page, dampening his name. the black ink began to run, the letters seeping into each other.

you could no longer control your tears. you took a seat on the floor, back resting against a leg of the table upon which the coffee makers stood. the metal was cold. but you paid it no mind. with your head on your knees, legs bent and arms wrapped around them, you cried. audibly. you couldn’t believe how you’d spoken to him. you should’ve known that he didn’t have the money to bake you these little presents on his own. you should’ve realized from the moment he confirmed it was him. at least, that’s what you thought to yourself as the tears expelled themselves from your system.

he just wanted to make you something special. yes, he broke the rules. yes, he stole from the cafe. and yes, he knew it was wrong. but he just wanted to make you something special. it was the only way he believed he could. and you wish you’d seen that. not just so you could’ve prevented it, but also so you could’ve appreciated it even more. so you could’ve seen that not only was he working overtime to make you something you might enjoy, but that he was risking his job for you and his mother. it wasn’t a perfect gesture - not by a long shot. but he meant well. he always did. and you didn’t even give him the chance to explain.

you loved him.

after a few moments of solitude, you regained your breath. you sniffled, looking down at the note. you then stood back up, taking hold of the container. its contents looked delicious. but you couldn’t consume it. not even if you’d been hungry. so, you dumped it into the trashcan beside the table. and, with a deep, shaky breath, you ripped up the letter and envelope into tiny pieces. it was a bittersweet feeling, letting go. but you had to do it. and so, home you went.

a week passed. things never really changed at the cafe once felix left. weeknights were still as slow as ever. maybe even slower. you missed him.

minho emerged from the kitchen one evening to find you wiping down the cappuccino maker with a coffee-stained rag. it was the third time you’d done it that day. twice more than you were getting paid for. and of course he noticed. “how’re you holding up?” he asked.

you barely glanced up at him, busy rubbing the same spot on the metal machine over and over. this stupid stain just wouldn’t budge. each time you’d gone over it that day, you couldn’t seem to make it go away. it plagued your mind, infiltrating your subconscious when you least expected it until you finally decided to go back to it for the second time, then the third. it was a real mood killer. though your mood hadn’t been very lively when the day began, either. “‘m fine,” you replied through gritted teeth, brows angled inward as your focus remained on the task at hand.

“are you?” he questioned, playfully. he leaned on the counter behind you, crossing his arms and watching you scrub. “you’ve been going at it with that thing for hours now. what’d it ever do to y-”

“i’m fine!” you interjected. you then paused, both in speech and action. suddenly, you were aware of how fast you’d been rubbing the machine. as well as how loud your voice had raised itself. you turned around. “...sorry.”

he gave a pitied smile, crossing his arms. “it’s ok. i’m fine,” he replied, mimicking you. it made you chuckle. he was glad it did. “is, uh… is this a bad time to ask you to lock up? i’ve got a.. uh…”

“a date?” you supposed, unfeeling.

he cleared his throat, glancing between you, the clock above you, and his shoes. “yeah,” he confirmed. “with chaeyoung. would you mind?”

“not at all.”

“you sure?” you nodded. “alright… i owe you one… or ten...” he joked, untying his apron.

“no you don’t,” you murmured, eyes drifting to the side. you almost turned back around, heart set on getting to that stain, until you felt his hand on your arm. you glanced at each other for a moment. he looked sad. sorry. he pitied you. and you hated it. yet, as he took you in his arms, wrapping you into a tight, benevolent hug, you became a little less tense. a little less angry. you hugged him back, burying your face into his shoulder. this was the first time you’d ever engaged in such a gesture with your coworker. sure, you were friends. and sure, you’d talked about some deep stuff on nights like these with nothing better to do. but this was different. meaningful. sweet.

after a moment, minho remarked, “you know i miss him too, right?” he sounded mockingly peeved. “he was your boyfriend but he was my friend.”

you looked up at him, confused. “you’re not still friends?”

he chuckled. “no! he’s avoiding me the same way he’s avoiding you.”

laughing with him, you responded, “shit… i’m sorry, minho.”

“you have nothing to apologize for.” he let go of you, hands remaining on your sides for a moment. “you both messed up. it’s not all your fault.” you nodded to him, a reluctant, close-lipped smile upon your face. he glanced up at the clock again before pulling his apron off. “i’ve gotta go. thanks again for locking up, y/n.” he walked past the counter to the front of the store. “i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he added, pointing at you while striding backwards toward the door.

“see you tomorrow,” you replied, waving to him. “have fun.” you still sounded a bit bitter. you couldn’t help it.

“thanks,” he said. the chimes twinkled as the door closed. it haunted you.

and with that, he was gone. nothing but you, your rag, and that unnerving coffee stain for another half-hour’s time.

you heard the opening and closing of the door behind you once again. with a sigh, not even bothering to turn around, you blurted, “we’re about to lock up for the night.”

no response. odd. maybe they didn’t hear you. you tried again, raising your voice a bit but continuing your attempts to clear up the stain all the while. “i apologize, but we’re closed for the night-”

“one salted caramel brownie, please.”

a familiar voice. a familiar, low-toned, nostalgia-inducing voice. the voice that, at one time, softened for you… close enough to your ear to make your stomach tie itself in knots. the voice that made you giggle, the voice that called you “love”... the voice that cracked when faced with the realization that it was never to be heard by you again. you spun around.

a familiar face, too.

felix.

his eyes gazed into yours. somber, silent.

“y-you...”

“hey.”

tags: @magglesx, @crscendoforsung, @stayndays, @hanniiesuckle17, @leggomylino, @freckledberries, @pixielix, @skzctnightnight, @serenityswords-main, @childofthecosmos, @changbinniee, @kpopscape, @skzwriternet, @hyunsins, @sleepylixie, @ncityluvvs, @vera-liscious (send a 🍓 in my ask box to be added for skz !)

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