#took some liberties but i had a lot of fun with this

[plutaztix]

Finished first draft designs of the hazbin cast- Alastor., Charlie, Angeldust, Nifty , and Vaggie.

Some of them got minor redesigns while others got revamped, so I’ll be going down the line and discussing my reasoning for each one (please note, these are not perfect, and probably are not animator friendly, I did this for fun, and a lot of the decisions I made were because I felt like it. Do not throw a fit if you don’t like them)

Alastor- when redesigning alastor I focused on 3 major details: that he was from the 1920s-1930s, he was from the south, and that he was a “radio demon”. I took away the voodoo stuff cause that felt like a really weird way to associate him with Louisiana culture, and instead went for the more “southern gentleman” feel using the slicked back hair and simple clothes. I also replaced his monocle with a full pair of glasses, because I think not being able to see his eyes makes him more menacing, same thing with the straight teeth. I made his color palette into warm browns to kind of give the vibe of an old timey radio- with a highlight of gold as well. Side note: I like to imagine he doesn’t open his mouth, and instead it just lights up like an actual radio- cause I think that’s cool character flavor. I also kept his deer motif cause ,apparently, it was supposed to connect with how he died- plus I’m always a sucker for the kind of evil character that has an innocent animal theme, super fun. (Also his microphone is sentient and does change the text depending on the situation)

Charlie Morningstar- I think Charlie is a lovely character, she’s one of favorites, but she felt pretty plain in some aspects. I learned that she was kind of inspired by porcelain dolls, which gave me an interesting idea of making into kind of a “devils Pinocchio”- because what’s more innocent than a doll imbued with the power of her father’s dreams? So I really leaned into the soft friendly doll look, giving her ball joints and large eyes that stare into your soul. I softened a lot of her colors and gave her rounder shapes as well as leaning into the goat aspects of her character, because i thought it could be fun to have her play off the deer motif that alastor has.

Angel Dust- My boy , my good lad. He is also pretty solid when it comes to design , however- HE DID NOT LOOK LIKE A SPIDER. I had no idea that his freckles were supposed to be eyes until I rewatched it. Soooo I definitely tried to make him more spider like by making his eyes more prominent and giving him pointy side burns that act as mandibles. I also gave him him his spider butt and some weird ass legs. Oh and , unrelated, I like to imagine he does burlesque.

Nifty- MY FAVORITEE , I love nifty guys, she’s my POOKIE bear. When going into her design I knew I wanted to make her look older since I thought it was weird how much she was infantilized so I gave her lipstick and pearl earrings to make her look more like a refine 1950s housewife, as well as give her an apron and cleaning gloves to make her feel more like a maid. I also leaned into her subtle bug theme by giving her antennae, and giving polka dots on her dress for a very subtle lady bug theme (cause she’s my little lady). Some more small things I gave her a little swirl in her bangs to call back to victory rolls, as well as some subtle hints of green to call back to the uranium craze of that time.

Vaggie- she was difficult. Initially, I had no idea what I wanted to do with her, but I think that’s also because she’s not a very fleshed out character? Her whole story is kind of , Support Charlie and be a fallen angel.(still love chaggie tho) So I took some creative liberties, and gave her a more mature look- with some periwinkle to act as a subtle hint to her angelic nature. I also gave her the monocle from alastor design cause I thought it made more sense for her? Like, if anyone is gonna have the one eyed visual aid it’s gonna be the bitch with one eye. It also makes her look more matured? And I gave her a moth broach to call back to her moth inspo.

Annnd that’s it! I’ll be working on the next batch soon, which will likely have husk and sir pentious, if you have any other people you wanna see lmk!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin art #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel redesign #fypシ #helluva fanart #helluva boss #angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel nifty #fyp

[snzinite]

Nothing to See Here

2k words. yes that is the fic name. i finally finished something that wasn't a headcanon! yippee!! this is for @messysneezer who requested a fic involving Mudrock. sorry this took so long, i was busy for all of January so I didn't have much time to write write. this ended up being a little longer than i pictured. i hope you enjoy it!

female sneezes (mudrock) / allergies (pollen but mostly dust), some talk about mess and spray but not really much of either

Mudrock had never been inside of a Leithanien library before. Even in a town as small as this, it was something of a wonder. The ladders moved themselves to and fro, guided by the unseen hand of the musical arts of the gramophone units. Their music was soft and ambient, and their effects were more seen than heard. Books levitated themselves off the shelves for the clientele, going so far as to flip through themselves if one decided they were only looking to have a peek instead of a read. Warm lighting splashed visibility around classy decor of ornate stone and lacquered wood. She would have liked to spend a few days in this building alone… were it not for a few problems.

“Heh-xxng-choo!”

She scrunched her shoulders together as she pressed her finger into her lip through the sneeze. She had been waiting for that one to work its way out of her ever since she had to slip out of her suit. 

A particularly nasty Leithanien caster unit had managed to tail what remained of her squad as they made a desperate play to soldier on to Kazdel. Her men lacked the strength or the willpower to square off against them now, so their only hope had been to ditch their equipment in a safe location and scatter about this border town in disguises. She rolled her shoulders, feeling the silky smooth straps of her casual dress glide across them. The feeling almost didn’t register against the soreness from months of having her armor and mud plates weigh down on them. She wore clothing, yet she felt almost naked.

“Het-xngt-choo!”

Speaking of feeling naked, the brief moment of being exposed to the grass pollen-laden air of springtime Leithanien had been enough to cause her allergies to flare up. Not exactly pleasant in its own right, but it could prove deadly if it caused her to be found. She rubbed the underside of her nose back and forth, subtly massaging her septum and the outside of her nostrils to ease them of the stinging itch that throbbed. It helped until it didn’t, and the sensation of a fingernail scratching and itch sent a tingle up to her sinus, until–

“HeeETCH-XNGT—oo!”

She exhaled after that one, nearly losing control but managing to stifle at the last second. The volume definitely increased a few notches, and she had officially drawn the notice of the denizens of the library. An older Caprinae man shushed her with a disapproving glare before adjusting his reading spectacles and going back to his tome.

(“Excuse me,”) she whispered as an apology before rubbing her nose again. It felt warm to the touch, with moisture beginning to collect at the insides of her nostrils. She attempted to sniffle it back. In that moment, she discovered two new unfortunate things about the situation.

One: this library was very dusty. The inhale caused her to just about feel every particle of dust that was invited into her already irritated, sensitive nasal passages. It made the itching migrate to the top of her throat for the time being, but she knew that it wouldn’t stay there for long. Apparently, the grand mastery of Leithanien arts units did not extend to cleaning functions. Now that she could feel it, she saw it on every surface, book, and floor she could lay eyes on.

Two, and much more immediately deadly: a Spire Caster, one of the most elite arts users in the Leithanien military, had made their way into the library while she had occupied herself with worrying about her allergies.

She took an involuntary breath of alarm and ducked behind a shelf. Her heart began to hammer in her chest. How many of her people had also chosen this library to hide out in? She hadn’t seen any come in, but the place was fairly large; it didn’t mean there weren’t any here. She willed herself to calm down. There was a reason she chose this place–detection arts were thwarted by thick sheafs of matter, and what better place to find such obstacles than a library?

The shot of adrenaline dulled the itching for a moment, but as she calmed it returned with a vengeance. She tried to swallow to tame it, but a pang of scratchiness lanced through her mouth into her nose. She took a hitching breath, then two–

“Haehh–choo! Hah-kxnt-choo!”

And stifled with all of her willpower against the side of her wrist. As soon as she was satisfied that she wasn’t going to sneeze again, she risked opening her eyes and shooting glances around her. The Elafia woman who shared the aisle with her gave her a strange, pointed look, but everything more or less remained the same otherwise. 

She shook her head a bit and sniffled again. Blinking made her realize that tears had begun to pool at the corners of her eyes. She wiped at them with a delicate touch so not as to irritate her eyes.

Stifling meant she was now congested as all hell, not relieved of any of the itching, and generally miserable… but at least that meant her nose was clogged up to any other irritants looking to extend the misery further. She could still breathe in some troublemaking dust if she wasn’t careful, but low, shallow breaths would hopefully prevent that. She tested it out. The breath only fanned the embers of a sneeze rather than set it ablaze, so she managed to relax a little on that front.

The next step was to get clear of that Spire Caster by any means necessary. Not sneezing was half the battle–not casting out a metaphorical flare to her location was only one aspect, but merely being seen would be enough. She began to walk through the aisleways between shelves. She kept her pace measured as leisurely or academic; frantic footfalls of a run would more or less shout out that she was exactly who they were looking for.

She neared the center of the floor now. The dust on the shelves was thicker here. It made the roof of her mouth itch just looking at it. Her lips had parted so she could breathe entirely through her mouth. Any movement of air through her nose was bound to be futile and noisy at her luckiest. She needed to leave this place and regroup with her squad, but she couldn’t risk making a move so soon after she’d spotted the enemy. 

Think, she forced herself. Stop thinking about how much you need to sneeze. You’re supposed to be a scholar, remember? What kind of scholar enters a library and doesn’t look at any books?

She reached for one at random, and her heart skipped a beat as it levitated itself into her hands. She had seen it earlier, but it turned out to be quite another thing to experience it personally. She did her best to ignore the puff of dust produced by it opening its cover for her and flipping through its pages. It would have been useless to her even if she wasn’t struggling to see through watering eyes, though. She had picked up enough Leithanien to hold a conversation, but she still couldn’t read more than directory signs.

She shut the book and tucked it under her arm. She paced around the corner, hopeful to find a reading table or chair in the corner of a room to keep watch over the area from when she froze.

Standing in the middle of the small space between shelf-aisles was the Spire Caster. They didn’t look like they were looking her way, but the unseeing face of their white masks always gave precious little away.

The jolt of fear caused Mudrock to suck in a lungful of air as she pivoted her heel back to press her back against the shelf she had just walked from. She stopped herself, but it was too late; the breath had already disturbed the contents of her sinuses. The resulting noise was no more than a deep snuffle, but that was the least of her worries. The tickle that danced in her nose spiked its heels into her, and she hitched once, twice, and–

“Hah-choo.” That was fine, but she wouldn’t get away with just that. “Hah-choo!” A little louder, but both had been contained fairly well. But the tickle only magnified, and she could only draw in a huge breath. Her mouth hung open. The world seemed to stop. She felt a tear roll down the outside of her eye off of her face.

Cover yourself! The thoughts came crashing in. Hold your nose shut! But they had come too late.

“HUUUESSSHHoo!” She sneezed down toward the floor, fully uncovered. Mercifully, the lighting wasn’t right for her or anyone else to see the resulting spray. Unmercifully, she wasn’t done–

“HAAUUUUESSSSSSHH-OO!” She brought a hand up in a reflex after the next one, but it wouldn’t have done her much good anyway. She had nothing to sneeze into but her bare hand and arm, and neither would have muted the sound. Thankfully, letting these out had reduced the itching dramatically, and she managed to end off the fit with a “HA—-choo!”

Her sinuses had cleared themselves of their congestion somewhat, too. She was much less uncomfortable now. Unfortunately, she was also probably much more heard by the Spire Caster. She whipped around to look for them. She did not have to look long.

The Spire Caster rounded the same corner she had just moments ago. The robed figure stood somewhat shorter than Mudrock, but their presence made her feel small. The black eye sockets of their mask bore down on her like hateful coals. She remained rock still, hand frozen over her face as though it would prevent them from sucking her soul out. Which, for all she knew, was just the sort of terrible spell that Spire Casters were capable of.

They held her gaze for a moment, then gave a chuckle as they dug around in their pocket.

“Let me guess. Foreigner? Grass season?” Their voice was soft, muted further behind the mask.

Oh. Right. They have no idea what me or my squad look like without our gear. This line of thinking was interrupted by a wordless panic followed by a single, stifled sneeze.

“HET–ngt-choo.” It took Mudrock a moment to find her voice again. When she did, her first syllable was choked with phlegm. “How did you know?”

“Well, the horns are more or less a dead giveaway,” they said. “And this time of year is always the worst for grass pollen. My sister has it worse than you do, and we’re from the C Minor Spire.”

She didn’t know what the C Minor Spire was, but she did recognize the bundle of gilded cloth she was handed from the Spire Caster’s pocket: a handkerchief.

“Oh,” she said, before forcing her brain to engage in nicety mode. “Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly.”

“It’s just a simple cloth. Please, keep it. If you’re planning on staying in this nest of dust, it sounds like you’ll need it.”

She hung in a pause before taking the handkerchief from them. She hadn’t made a mess of her face by sneezing, but removing her hand and showing her face felt like a barrier being breached by the enemy. She brought it back up by burying her nose in the cloth and blowing to get what remained in her nasal passages out of her. It felt nice on her irritated face; warmed by the Spire Caster’s body heat so it wasn’t uncomfortably cold, but not so warm that it aggravated any sensitive skin. “Thank you,” she managed.

“It’s nothing,” the Spire Caster said. “I hope you manage to feel some relief.” They turned away to leave, but they only made it one step before stopping. “Oh, right. Pardon me for asking, but you wouldn’t happen to know of any Sarkaz mercenaries by the name of Mudrock, would you?”

Nothing else could catch her off guard today. “Mud… Rock? Sounds like a silly mercenary name, no?”

The Spire Caster snorted. “Silly or not, he’s responsible for a lot of dead people. Be careful if you run into him or his men.”

“Will do,” she said, savoring the irony over a sniffle. “Thank you.”

#snz #snzblr #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzknights #snzfic #snz fic #took some liberties but i had a lot of fun with this #yes its a library fic AND a hiding fic sue me #i thought it was a cool idea #my mudrock research did me well i think

[galaxiesovertrees]

more fanart for @crystalsamethyst‘s fanfic again, just as promised !

#I took a few liberties with the design ! #added some embroidery + accent colours #don’t mind how messy the braids on the golden belt are. please play no attention to that #I had lots of fun though ! especially because I drew this out on paper first #// #art // #fandom // #tgcf // #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #hua cheng #tgcf fanart #fanfic fanart #art

[good-beanswrites]

My lyrics for Double!! I really loved this song and became like a thousand times more impressed by Deco27 and Natsuki Hanae after working with it for so long 😅 I chickened out of recording this one in the apartment but if anyone wants to cover it... lmk.... 👀 I can definitely put something together to help hear how the rhythms work, because I got it all to line up very nicely! (Lyrics under the cut and my little commentary in the tags)

(I’ve got you, leave it to me!)

Welcome home, it's another day, keeping things at bay, you see no change

Not a smile in this mess, you're doing your best, you say (wake up)

"Don't need a break" as you proceed to start breaking, both sleeping and waking makes you bleed

And now, reborn anew -- I'll take in on for you

Not your plan? Who gives a damn, I'm here and here is where I'll stay

It's just the two of us, nothing left to run from. You're safe now, your hero's come.

All I did was dream, is that a crime? Is that enough to name me guilty by?

"He can't be trusted, he lied," you cried. Made me out as the bad guy. But why?

Ah, I'm the one that saved you, don't you see? So tell me why the hell you cry to me!

Let me hear you revel, grateful, cling to me with "savior," "adore" -- oh, sing to me.

Welcome home, it's another day, keeping things at bay, you see no change

Too late, your limits passed. Too late, yourself has cracked (goodnight)

If you persist I'll assist with releasing, keeping your peace is why I exist

And now reborn anew -- I'll take it on for you

(Oh, hello? Mom? It’s been a while. Yeah.. well, I mean, some days are hard but I’m doing alright, don’t worry. How’ve you been? I’ll go home next time I get some time off...)

The reason I'm alive, must be making sure that you survive

"He can't be trusted, he lied," you cried. Made me out as the bad guy. But why?

All I did was dream, did you forget? Go on and forgive me, I'm no threat.

Listen to me confess, honest. Eat your words and I bet, regret

Ah, I just tried to help, tried to be strong. So tell me why the hell it's all gone wrong

Let me hear you revel, grateful, cling to me with "savior," "adore" -- don't sing me this song

Lost my memory

I'm double, it was unavoidable

Living painfully

I'm trying, as hard as possible

Tell me, tell me.

If I wasn't born, maybe this trouble --

Tell me, tell me.

It's all my fault

#milgram #mikoto kayano #lyrics #i feel bad it cut in front of the other milgram songs but it was a lot easier than the others #(not that it was easy by any means but the other ones are giving me even more trouble asdfsdf) #but yeah!!! im so happy with these!!! #i will forever be jealous of the rhyming in the original refrain -- #nante itte/natte nande/datte sugatte/utatte tatte IS SO WONDERFULLY SATISFYING #it makes me crazyyyyyy #i know i dont get half that fun in mine but im still really satisfying with the rhymes/phrasing #wtf is going on in the rest of the song 😭 i came for the incredible refrain and had to deal with all That...... #the 'dont need a break' and 'if you persist' lines gave me so much trouble 😭 he just keeps on going..... #i took a bit of a liberty with the 'sing to me' line because every version of 'thatd be good' sounded so lame 😅 #trying to do some kind of play on sing your sins while its john really wanting to communicate but idk if that worked #an unintended but exciting detail is 'you say' sounding like 'you say wake up' rather than 'you say dont need a break' #since thats right when he wakes john up so to speak #any milgram pals who want to sing -- these are always open to use >:3

[ltwilliamhavers]

a collection (a murder?) of tavs

#baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #tav bg3 #bg3 fanart #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate oc #my art #yall act three armor is so hard to draw help #i certainly took some. liberties in drawing it #and yes i named my first tav after myself......... #anywho this took forever but i had fun drawing it :) #ik i havent drawn in quite a while and idk if ill be drawing a lot still but at least ive drawn something yknow. #we'll see if inspiration strikes

[allysunny]

Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this

Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Words: 15k words

Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.

A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!

So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.

There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.

This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.

Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!

Anyways, enjoy!

Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.

Not that he minded, really.

Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.

He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.

Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.

He was better off without such people.

They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.

So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.

There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.

No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.

He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.

Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.

All but you, though.

Never you.

Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.

He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.

But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.

It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.

That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.

That's when he first saw you.

You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.

Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.

When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.

“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”

“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”

Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.

“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.

“Absolutely. It looks good.”

You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.

Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?

Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.

Alfred replied just as quickly.

Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.

Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.

If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.

Right, he thought. The cupcake.

Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.

It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.

The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.

You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.

“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”

“It’s good.”

“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.

Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”

“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.

“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.

“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”

“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”

You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”

Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.

“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”

“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”

So, he made you feel safe.

Well, not him – Batman did.

Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.

And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear? 

“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.

For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.

When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.

To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.

It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.

Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.

“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”

“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”

You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.

“You’re not at all like what people say.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.

“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.

“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”

Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.

“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”

“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.

You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.

“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”

Just a random guy.

Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.

In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.

It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.

But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.

You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.

Just a random guy.

“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.

And you were funny too.

“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.

“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, just Bruce.”

“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)

“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”

You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Me? Really?”

“Exactly you.”

“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”

“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”

At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.

Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.

“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.

(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.

“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”

You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.

“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.

“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.

Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.

The rest was history.

You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.

Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.

He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.

“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”

“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”

“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”

“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”

At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.

He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.

It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.

He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.

“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”

He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.

In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.

Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.

Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.

(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn��t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)

It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.

At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.

He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.

You two had, after all, your own little rituals.

You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.

You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.

“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.

“I think it was terrible.” You replied.

Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.

“Excuse me?!”

“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”

“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.

You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.

“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.

“Language!” Alfred tutted.

“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.

“Wait – why?”

“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”

Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.

“I – I – well. I see.”

“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”

Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.

“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”

“She doesn’t?”

“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.

“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”

You scoffed. Again.

“He’s a misunderstood ass – “

“Language – “

“He is Alfred!”

“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.

Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.

“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”

“Name one thing.”

“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.

“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”

“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.

Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.

You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.

“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”

Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.

Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.

“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”

"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”

“Simple, huh?”

You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.

“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”

“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.

Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.

You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.

“Reasons? Like what?”

Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.

“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”

You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.

Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.

You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.

You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.

All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.

Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.

“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.

“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”

You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)

“I can’t go.”

Bruce grimaced.

“Why?”

“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.

Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.

“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”

Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.

“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.

“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.

“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.

Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.

“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”

“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.

“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”

“I have literally nothing to wear.”

Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).

“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.

“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.

You pondered your choices.

He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.

Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”

Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”

“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.

You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.

Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.

When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.

“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.

“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.

As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.

Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.

In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.

When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.

Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.

Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.

“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”

You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”

“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.

“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.

“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.

“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.

“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”

Bruce shook it and nodded.

“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”

The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.

“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”

“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.

“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”

Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.

“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”

“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”

“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.

“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”

“What face?”

“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”

Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.

“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.

Bruce nodded.

“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.

“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.

“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.

After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.

“Come on,”

You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.

Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.

“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.

“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.

“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”

“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.

He snorted at that but did not say anything.

The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.

“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.

“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I mean it. You do look stunning.”

The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.

He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.

“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”

You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.

Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.

“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”

None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.

All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“

Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.

“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”

Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.

Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”

“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”

“About two hours.”

“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”

He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.

Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?

Friend.

The word tasted wrong in his mouth.

No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.

He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.

He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.

It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.

One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.

(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)

Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.

The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.

Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.

Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.

Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.

You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.

“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.

Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.

“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”

You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.

Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.

At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.

“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.

“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”

You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.

Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.

“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.

“Yes please.”

Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.

“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.

He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.

“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.

“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.

(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)

“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.

Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.

You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.

“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”

He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.

He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.

Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.

“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”

“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”

“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”

Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.

An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.

“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”

“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.

Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?

“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.

Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?

“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.

While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.

Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.

Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.

You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.

That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.

“Cold?” he asked.

“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.

“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.

“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”

Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.

After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.

Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.

“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.

“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.

“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”

Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.

He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.

“Better?” he murmured.

You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.

“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.

“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.

“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”

“I promise.”

You nodded and continued your silent stroll.

Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.

“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“

“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.

You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.

The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.

“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.

“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)

Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.

You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.

“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.

“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.

It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.

You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.

After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.

After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.

“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You didn’t have to, Miss.”

“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”

He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.

“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.

“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”

You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “

“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”

“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”

When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.

“Alfred? Is everything okay?”

Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.

“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”

“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”

“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”

You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.

“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”

“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.

“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”

“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”

After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.

“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.

“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.

“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”

Alfred shook his head.

“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”

“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.

“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”

You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.

“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.

“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.

Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.

“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.

He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.

“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.

“You’re welcome.” You replied.

When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.

Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.

“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.

“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.

“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.

“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”

He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

He thought about Batman.

How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.

“Is…”

“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.

He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.

He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.

He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.

And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.

“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.

Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.

Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.

Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.

So, you tried to move on with your life.

A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.

One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.

“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.

“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.

“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.

Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?

And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?

Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.

After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.

Bruce cursed himself mentally.

On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.

Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.

Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.

As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.

It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.

You seemed so happy with him.

Seemed.

Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.

When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.

Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.

But that was it.

Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.

After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?

He was just a good friend.

You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.

So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.

But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.

You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.

And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.

So why were you so heartbroken?

Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.

You were in love with Bruce Wayne.

And he didn’t love you back.

So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.

Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.

Even if you didn’t really love Tom.

Yeah. No need at all.

On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.

You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.

You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.

There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.

There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.

Something inside of you flared up the memory.

The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.

You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.

Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.

How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.

“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.

“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.

“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”

“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.

“No – fuck ­– it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.

“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”

You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.

After a while, you broke the silence.

“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.

Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.

“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”

What?

He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.

“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”

Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?

“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “

Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.

“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.

“But – Tom –“

“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”

“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.

He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.

He could give up the love of his life forever.

Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.

Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.

He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.

You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.

When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”

You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.

“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.

Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.

“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.

You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.

“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.

“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”

“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”

You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.

“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”

“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.

“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”

He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.

“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”

Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.

“I love you too.”

For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.

Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.

Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.

Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.

There was no way he was ever letting go of you.

A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.

I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.

Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!

Have an amazing day, everyone! <3

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #bale!batman #bale!bruce wayne x reader #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #nolanverse #the dark knight fanfiction #the dark knight fanfic #nolanverse fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batman x fem!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader

[neptuneiris]

True Intentions | (One-shot)

Be the only one or be an 'sometimes'?

pairing: modern!aemond (best-friend brother) × fem!reader

summary: even knowing his reputation, you've always had a little secret crush on the most popular boy in school, Aemond Targaryen, until it becomes impossible to hide it when your brother Cregan makes friends with him and you begin to see him more frequently.

word count: 9.0k

I'm very excited about this!

I hope you really like it, I loved writing this even though it took me a while, but here it is finally:) comments and reblogs are appreciated beautiful people, thank you so much for reading!❤

warning's: language, slight angst, mention of alys, sexual content, spanking.

You always hated it when your brother Cregan brought his friends over to your house when your parents were away, whether it was to watch soccer games, play video games or have some fun at the pool.

You especially were never the type of sister to bring friends over, rather you were the type of sister who preferred to go to friends' houses, as you never mentioned your house as an option.

It just wasn't comfortable for you.

And apparently it wasn't enough for your brother and his friends to see each other almost daily at school that they also had to go to your house.

But you couldn't really do anything, he's the older brother and it wouldn't make any difference to accuse him to your parents since logically there's nothing wrong with him inviting his friends over, besides they work almost all the time and probably wouldn't make a big deal out of it.

So you can only lock yourself in your room with food as a provision, put on your AirPods and wait for them to leave.

And that's what you do, all the while Cregan and his friends prowl around your house. But you reach your breaking point when again Cregan plans a pool party.

"Are you serious?" you inquire, clearly annoyed, "I swear to God, Cregan, this is not going to happen again."

"Oh come on," he gives you a tired look, tossing balloons and animal inflatables into the pool, "Live a little, sis."

"No! You always do this, the same old shit!"

You reproach him as you follow him back into the house, where at the kitchen island is a stack of beers that he begins to store in the fridge completely disinterested to your clear dissatisfaction with it all, as he just doesn't care.

"Last time everyone was coming into the house like it was nothing to leave the whole floor wet, they also left a mess all over the kitchen, pool and garden," you remind him annoyed, "Not to mention we had complaints from the neighbors for all the fuss you made."

"Fucking Hell, will you relax? I'll take care of everything," he says looking at you wearily, only increasing your anger more, "The guys won't be long and I needed everything to be ready."

"That's what you always say but I'm the one who ends up cleaning everything up in and I'm the one who deals with the neighbors because of you fucking fault!"

"Fine!" he exclaims in exasperation, looking at you, "You have my word, I'll take care of everything this time, yeah?"

He looks at you seriously to get back to dealing with the beers, but you don't believe half a word he says.

"Now do you want to help me turn on the pool lights? Also lock the upstairs doors, just in case."

You slowly shake your head in his direction with your arms crossed with your completely serious and annoyed look in his direction.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

You don't wait for him to say anything back nor do you say anything else, you just annoyingly turn around and walk upstairs to your room, preparing to be another long night confined to your four walls.

And this is what happens every time your parents aren't home, having to put up with the liberties Cregan takes to do whatever he pleases around the house.

It's not until one day when you get home from your music lessons at almost seven o'clock that when you open your front door, you hear a lot of voices and laughter.

During the week he usually doesn't invite anyone over, except for a few times he invites the Velaryon brothers, Jace and Luke, over to play video games after school.

The weekend is when it really bothers you that he throws big parties without your parents knowing.

You close the door hard enough to announce your arrival and look into the living room as you head for the stairs, when then, you see them.

And they see you too.

With handsome faces and infectious smiles, besides their unusually silver hair and blue eyes that steal the breath of every girl in the school, Aegon and Aemond Targaryen, the kings of the whole school and also the most players, are in your living room having a few beers and smoking with Cregan.

And Cregan is the first to react.

"Guys, the lady of the house is here," he says, "So let's take this to the pool, shall we? Before she starts screaming."

You watch him with a completely serious look on your face as you see Aegon let out a small chuckle to himself. And without a word, you avert your gaze and continue on your way to the stairs, feigning disinterest.

And just like all the other girls at your school, you can't help but feel equally captivated and attracted to him, Aemond.

However, you don't leave without one last look at him, Aemond Targaryen.

From your single couch and with a cigarette between his long fingers, gives you back an intense and burning look that makes you feel a strange sensation all over your body.

But it's not something you really go around telling everyone, let alone something you want your brother to know now that he's apparently become friends with him.

However, you should have expected him to notice.

And it happens when Cregan again throws a pool party with all his friends and him too, where you don't confront him much about it like previous times and that's what gets his attention.

"Which of the two is the one you like?"

He asks you suddenly with a curious expression and a hint of suspicion in his voice, making you watch him with confusion on your face.

"What are you talking about?"

Your whole body tenses up completely upon hearing your brother's words and you inevitably start to feel terribly nervous, as well as your heart starts to beat too fast, especially because of his suspicious look on you.

"The Targaryens."

He points at you with his gaze, crossing his arms and looking at you again attentively and suspiciously.

"You haven't caused a scene since the two of them have been coming around often and you certainly don't look upset when it used to be a problem with anyone coming around, so you definitely must like one of the two of them, so tell me, which one?"

But you feign innocence and confusion, only to stare at him with your most incredulous face of all and try to evade him.

"You're talking nonsense."

"Oh, am I?"

"Cregan," you observe him seriously, "Have you ever seen me talk to either of the two of them here or at school?"

"Hmm," he says for a moment, thoughtfully.

Still he doesn't look entirely convinced and analyzes you with a completely intent and penetrating gaze, making you feel more nervous but you control him well.

"Still I find it odd that you don't complain about them when they come."

"Then maybe you should think about the fact that I just got tired of telling you the same old thing over and over again," you persuade the subject, "No matter how many times I complain, you'll still do what you want," you tell him seriously, "Besides, you assume that as if I didn't go to the same school as you and didn't know the Targaryens."

"That's exactly why I'm telling you," he says instantly, just as serious, "Do you think I'd like to see you start dating one of them?"

"And why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" he repeats incredulously, "I'm your brother, of course I care."

"As if I care about the girls you date," you tell him just as incredulously.

"Well, at least I have a good reason here," he insists, "I know them, both," he clarifies, "And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

"Stop being ridiculous," you tell him with your clearly annoyed tone, starting to head to your room, "And even if I will start dating one of them, it's none of your business."

You sentence to finally leave him behind, leaving a tension in the kitchen, while inside, you finally stop feeling tense and nervous, but Cregan continues with his suspicion.

He almost had you, almost.

And after that conversation, automatically the Targaryens come to your house more often, even more than usual.

Even after school, Cregan invites them over, the two of them and also the Velaryon brothers, where they all together invade your house and you start to witness the personality of him that he is mostly known for.

And it happens one day you're making yourself food and you hear them all talking from the living room.

"Oh, this fucker is texting Savannah," you hear Aegon's excited and amused voice.

"What!? Savannah Williams!?"

"Yeah, since yesterday. I saw her name on his phone when she texted him."

"So what do you say, dude?"

"Not much, actually," you hear his voice.

"But haven't you gone out with her before?"

"Yeah, but you know, it was casual," he explains, "Just now she told me her parents aren't home."

"Oh dude, if I were you, I wouldn't waste the opportunity," your brother says excitedly.

"But what happened to that girl at the party last week? What was her name? Emily, I think."

"Ah Emily… yeah, we had a thing but it was casual too. We only met once after that party."

"She was so hot, but Savannah is hot too."

"Yeah, I know," you hear his nonchalant voice.

"So will you go see her?"

"Yeah, I think so."

You hear them continue to talk, but you tune out and sneak off to your room unnoticed.

It's not the first time you've witnessed these conversations, though. It also happens when they are in the pool and you find yourself back in the kitchen preparing food.

But you can't concentrate because through the glass of the huge windows you see Aemond's bare chest marked. This is a distraction but you try to ignore it as much as you can, but to no avail.

When then the movement and sound of him emerging from the water catches your attention and that of Cregan and Aegon.

"Where are you going?"

"To Cerelle's," he announces, with his phone in hand and his towel over his shoulder.

"Yo! Cerelle Lannister!?" exclaims Cregan in surprise.

"She's so sexy," Aegon says, grining.

"She told me she's home alone and wants me to come over," he explains, as you watch him quickly move his fingers across his phone screen.

"Good luck, dude!"

Even though you know his reputation and how you are aware of his numerous 'adventures' with other girls, you can't help but feel a knot in your stomach and wonder if he might ever be interested in you.

You feel another pang of disappointment when you hear all this and also when you see how he smiles and starts to make his way over here without taking his eyes off his screen.

This immediately makes you react to quickly go to your room so you don't cross paths with him.

Not in that way, since you really don't want to be another girl on his huge list, but be something more genuine and real to him.

But that's totally ridiculous and impossible.

You tell yourself in disbelief, seeing the reality, as it's clear he's not looking for something serious and you don't want to be a 'one night stand' for him if you'll be ignored, forgotten and to some extent humiliated afterwards.

One day, taking advantage of the fact that Cregan is not at home on the weekend and neither are any of his friends, much less your parents, although that is actually no surprise, you decide to make this day for yourself, relax and enjoy your own company.

You decide to stop paying attention to your phone and with your towel in your arms, you leave your room and go down to the pool.

But just as you finish walking down the stairs and are about to turn down the hallway, the doorbell rings.

You stop with a tired expression as that alone has slightly disturbed the zen zone you now find yourself in, but having no choice, you turn around and head to open the door, thinking it must be Mrs. Arryn to ask you for sugar, as usual.

But when you open the door, it is not Mrs. Arryn, but rather you come face to face with Aemond, taking you by surprise and takes your breath away for a moment.

If he is surprised to see you, he doesn't show it, just raises his eyebrows slightly and you notice how he shamelessly runs his eye up and down you, making you embarrassed and nervous as you remembers your outfit, which is a cute black two-piece bikini.

And you quickly try to cover up a bit with the towel in your hands, although in reality this shouldn't embarrass you, since you're at home and you didn't expect to see him, besides this bikini doesn't leave much to the imagination.

Or so you think.

"Hey."

He says to you dispassionately in greeting mode, with a look that you can't really describe but that makes you feel more nervous and you feel your heart beating too hard.

"Hi," you try not to stutter, "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Aemond watches you with a little mischievous smile barely visible and a spark of amusement in his eye.

"No worries," he tells you in his soft tone.

"Hum…" you place your confused face, "My brother is not here," you let him know, still finding it strange that he doesn't know that.

"Oh," he is silent for a moment, watching you intently, "He's not?"

You shake your head.

"He said he was going to Alysanne's, but he left hours ago," you explain and he hums in understanding, "Did you tell him you were coming today?"

"No, although I should have, I was just passing through and decided to come," he explains to you as well, shoving his hands into the pockets of his silk jacket, "I left my wallet here last night," he tells you later, getting your attention more, "That's why."

"Oh," is all you say, not knowing what else to say for a few seconds, "Well, I'm not sure what time Cregan will be back. But if you want to go up and get it, I'll be at the pool."

You allow him passage, as it's not as if he's a complete stranger and it's not as if he doesn't hang around here often either, it's as if he and Aegon live here too, being the brothers Cregan wished he had.

"Okay, thanks," he tells you as you step aside and make room for him to come in.

"Just close the door when you leave," you tell him, still feeling your heart beat too fast against your chest.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you, nodding in your direction.

"All right."

You give him a small smile and without saying anything else to him, you walk past him, hurrying to get out of his sight and urgently needing, now more than anything else, to get your whole body into the warm water of the pool that will make you stop feeling so tense.

And this is why you don't feel Aemond's piercing, burning gaze on you as you pull away, admiring your bare skin and having a perfect idea of your naked body to the imagination.

And with that alone, he feels himself getting hard at the sight of your smooth, long legs, as well as getting a good look at that ass of yours jiggling as you pull away.

He wets his lips and with a little grin, finally makes his way to Cregan's room, thinking about little things since you're here alone…. now with him.

Meanwhile you, wanting to forget that Aemond Targaryen is in your house right now, submerge yourself completely in the water, where you immediately feel a sensation of freshness and relief.

The water caresses you and envelops your body completely, while you let out a small sigh of pleasure and begin to get used to the new temperature, letting the revitalizing sensation envelop you completely.

Then you emerge with a slight jump, remove your wet hair stuck to your face and begin to swim elegantly, where your arms and legs move at a steady pace and the water takes you in all directions.

You submerge again for a moment and watch the horizon, as your house is on a hill and you can see the lights of neighborhoods below, being a beautiful sight when the sun sets and also when the sun goes down.

However, again your zen zone is disturbed when you hear the movement of the kitchen glass doors sliding, so you turn around in confusion and again feel all your nervousness wash over you.

Aemond makes his way over here, but what strikes you more than anything else is how he has clothes in his hand and also one of the many clean towels Cregan has in his bathroom.

You look at him confused face and he looks back at you with his intent gaze.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

The words get stuck in your throat, watching him still confused, feeling really very nervous and not understanding what he is doing here since he was supposed to go get his wallet and then leave, while he stands at the edge of the pool, watching you.

"Hum…" you say not really knowing what to say, "Are you going to wait for Cregan?"

He averts his gaze from yours, then drops the towel and clothes on a chair with dispassionate movements, to return his gaze to you.

"Yeah, I can do that too."

"And what are you actually here to do?"

You watch him warily and with a slight distrust, but not in a bad way, it's simply nerves.

He looks at you slightly amused.

"To keep you company, of course. Unless you don't want me to," he hastens to clarify.

And here your dilemma begins.

Being alone here with Aemond, in your house, in your pool, was a scenario you longed for and feared at the same time. You longed for because that's how your mind works when you're attracted to him, but feared since anything could happen.

And knowing his reputation, maybe when the moment happens, if the moment happens at all, you don't know if what will come next will be bad or good.

Also, you don't know if Cregan will arrive at any time or even later, so if he arrives in a couple more minutes and sees you alone here with Aemond, you don't even want to imagine the scandal he will make.

You don't know if Aemond has considered that possibility too but if he has, he doesn't seem to mind.

"So?" he looks at you expectantly.

But you again, can't utter words.

You let out a long breath and swallow hard before responding, trying to hide your excitement and nervousness.

You don't want to look bitter by telling him no, that it will be best for him to leave, but you also can't find another way to politely decline.

And on the other hand… there is that inevitable emotion in your being that begs you to invite him into the pool with you.

"Hum… yeah, sure, if you want," you say acting nonchalant, averting your gaze from him and distracting yourself with the water.

Aemond can't help but put on his smirk again and right in front of you, wanting to give you a show, he takes off his shirt, to which you watch him helplessly out of the corner of your eye and make sure he doesn't catch you admiring the view.

He's wearing that usual silver chain around his neck that makes it stand out against his skin, making him look only even sexier when he doesn't have a shirt on and God, you don't know if you can survive this, thinking it's a bad idea.

Then you watch as he pulls on a pair of Cregan shorts, secures his hair in a low bun and finally steps into the water.

In a nonchalant way you make yourself more towards the shore, unobviously avoiding getting too close to him as he swims towards the center of the pool, making it more impossible for you not to watch him as it's getting dark and the last orange rays of the sun beautifully illuminate his skin that glows slightly from the water and his face.

And then feel his intense gaze on you, while you try to distract yourself with your eyes, trying to focus only on you.

But it is genuinely impossible.

However, he doesn't make any effort to talk and neither do you, which you are grateful for, to continue to feel the calmness and relaxation throughout your body, although it's a little hard for you being here alone with him.

And it's a bit awkward since neither of you are talking, but is there anything to talk about?

He's one of your brother's best friends and you're just the sister, the two of you don't really know each other, so it makes sense. But still you feel the slight tension between the two of you and you don't even know why.

You wonder if he feels the same way too when suddenly his low, amused voice almost makes you startle in your place.

"I've always wondered why you're so quiet when Aegon and I come over."

You look at him with a slightly surprised expression, not expecting that, feeling again how your heart is beating too fast from nerves, for what are you supposed to tell him?

You should tell him that you have a crush on him and that your brother warned you about him?

"I know it's your house and I come with your brother but… you look like you hate me or something."

Oh God.

You think, only making you feel more nervous, especially since it's really impossible not to see a part of his torso and pectorals that looks almost glowing from the water and sunlight, not expecting to hear those words either.

And you force yourself not to turn your back on him anymore to watch him while they talk, adopting a relaxed and confident attitude, just like him, when actually inside you are shaking with nerves.

"You just said yourself, you come with my brother, not me," you say softly.

And while he watches you and listens attentively, he also struggles just like you not to see too much of your breasts confined in that black bikini of yours that makes you look too sexy, especially the way the wet fabric looks and your skin on your chest and collarbone too.

"And I don't hate you," you clarify, slightly amused and absurd, "We just don't talk, that's all."

"Because you haven't given me the chance."

You look at him expectantly.

"I don't remember a single time you ever tried to talk to me."

"That's exactly why," he tells you softly, "Because you run away before I can try."

Now it is you who watches him completely attentively, while you feel your heart beating like crazy and you look away from him for a moment, not knowing what to say or do since he is right, feeling really very nervous, especially when he starts to swim slowly towards you, with a determined look.

And you for insisting, you start to back away, watching his slow and calculated movements with some trepidation, having an idea of what he intends to do and you know it's not a good idea at all.

"See? You're already running away," he points out to you with his amused and satisfied look.

And you don't miss his determined look, how his head is slightly tilted as he continues to slowly advance towards you, with the corners of his lips twisted upwards in a small smile and his blue eye glowing, while his prosthetic eye remains the same as ever.

And you still don't want to agree with him.

"That's not true, I'm not doing anything," you defend yourself in a weak and pathetic attempt.

"Oh no?" he raises his eyebrows expectantly at you.

And you start to lose it all when he's already in front of you, cornering you.

"Aemond," you call him in a sigh in warning mode, fully alert, leaving his name in the air as you become very nervous of his intense, dark gaze on you.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid of me?"

You watch him with a slight expression of surprise and even more nervousness, as you press your lips together and try to say the right words.

"No," you reply softly, "But I know you're no good either," you confess.

And he frowns, watching you interestedly.

"What do you mean?" you are silent for a moment, as you give him a sad look, serious and obvious at the same time.

"We both know what," you tell him softly, without much detail.

And at this, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed, immediately noticing how you clench your jaw and look away from yours for a moment, serious and thoughtful.

You know he shouldn't have to be upset with you for implying a truth you both know, especially him, but still you can't help but hold your breath, hoping that maybe you haven't gone too far.

All the while thinking that maybe you've ruined the first chance you've had to talk to him by telling him that he's no good by reputation, since that's not your concern, but at least you make it clear that that's not what you're looking for now.

"And you don't even want to try?" he asks you quietly, turning his gaze back to you, attentive and completely willing.

You stare at him, completely speechless, as you feel your whole body tense and your eyes are slightly wide open, your lips parted, not having the slightest idea what to say at the same time as a million questions invade your mind.

And just at that moment, Cregan's words come back to your mind.

"I know them, both. And I don't want you to get hurt, that's why I'm telling you."

So you know.

Aemond is not like you and the only thing he wants is to fill his list, no matter with whom, not even if it's the sister of one of his best friends, who are supposed to be 'forbidden', somehow.

And that's why you decide to answer him truthfully, no longer caring if you hurt his feelings, even though you doubt it very much.

Not wanting this to go any further, since you knew all along that letting him stay was a bad idea, you move as fast as your body in the water will let you, walking away, wanting to keep your distance again.

"And be just another girl on your list that you never speak to again and suddenly pretend she doesn't exist anymore? No thanks."

But just as you pass by him, he's faster and you feel his big hand grab your arm and twist you in a demanding motion back towards him, slamming his chest against yours, locking you in his arms, making you gasp in surprise.

His face is above yours, completely close, causing you nerves and you try to free yourself from him, but he doesn't let you, even having that determined, attentive and dark look.

"Do you ever stop running away?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

"What do you think you're doing?" you hiss nervously.

"You're not even letting me explain."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Oh no?" he asks, "Did I say I only wanted you for one night?"

"That's what you do, Aemond, with every girl," you say absurdly, "Am I suddenly going to be the exception? How am I supposed to believe that?"

However, any further protest gets stuck in your throat as Aemond grabs one hand from your cheek and the other places it on your bare waist, pulling you closer against him in a possessive grip.

And you know you're losing the battle when he brings his face closer to yours, where your noses brush lightly and your breathing becomes more rapid, having no idea what's going on.

But Aemond does.

And as he strokes your soft, wet cheek with his thumb, watching you intently and with understanding, his next words make you reconsider the situation completely.

"You won't be just another girl on the list," he murmurs softly to you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."

You shudder completely at his words, but also at his touch and closeness, being impossible not to look between his violet eye or his full lips, which Aemond notices, also peering between your eyes and lips hungrily.

And you don't even think or discuss it anymore when he leans his face towards you and kisses you with need, without even giving you time to react.

You moan into his mouth in surprise and he pulls you roughly to him, lowering his hands to your body where he makes you wrap your legs around his torso, then makes room between your lips with his tongue, making you gasp.

You immediately bring your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss further, a passionate kiss, where you barely give each other time to breathe properly before desperately bringing your lips together again.

A slight tingle of desire is felt between your legs as you move your body and legs to hold his torso tighter, where you perfectly feel the hardness of his cock under your ass.

You moan as you feel one of his hands grip your thigh and the other caress the skin of one of your ass cheeks, making you gasp against his mouth, closing your eyes in delight as he pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft kisses on your neck.

"I fucking knew it," he murmurs in delight too in his husky voice, running his tongue over your sensitive skin, "I knew you wanted me too."

You squint completely as the hand on your ass reaches lower and nonchalantly rubs his palm over your covered, moist center.

"Aemond," you moan.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, smiling in the middle of your lips as he kisses you again.

But it's there in that moment with his hand caressing you right at your nerve center that your brain for an instant seems to react, realizing what's really going on and you stop kissing him abruptly, watching him in surprise and slight fear as he watches you slightly confused.

"W-we can't," you say in a trembling voice, "We can't do this, t-this is wrong. Cregan—

"We can't do it or we can't do it here?" he inquires expectantly.

You let out a sigh.

"Both," you say with a certain embarrassed tone, "But I'm more worried about Cregan. If he sees us, he'll go crazy."

"Come on, Y/N, you're not a little girl anymore."

"I know but he warned me about you and your brother," you tell him hopelessly, "And you're one of his best friends."

Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you and nothing else, where he is aware and so are you of the hardness in his shorts, while in his thoughts he bets that you too must be spilling your juices between your legs.

Honestly he understands your concern, but he also understands that Cregan is really no one to tell you who you can and can't date, as the decision is totally up to you.

He doesn't want to have problems with him either as he also considers him one of his best friends but you... you simply drove him crazy with seeing you in this black bikini and now he is even more so for you, wanting, needing more of you, no matter the consequences.

"Then we have to be careful and not to say anything to him," he tells you softly, in solution, "Only if you want to," he clarifies, "But if you want to stop now, just tell me and I will, before we take this any further."

But you don't really have to make a decision when you are already here, in his arms, feeling how much he wants you and you also recognizing how much you want to keep touching and kissing him, no matter what.

But he still gives you that option, to make you see that he really doesn't want to hurt you and that he respects your decisions, since you are the one in control of all this and you are the one who puts the stop, at any time.

And when Aemond sees how you are watching him intently, with indecision in your gaze, holding back your true desires, thinking fast, he cocks his head to one side and watches you curiously.

"Or do you really want me as much as I want you, princess?"

Something snaps inside you and not just from hearing that nickname for you, but from having him so fucking close and his lips being a complete invitation to you and in fact all of him.

Soon enough, he is sitting on the edge of the pool and you find yourself sitting on top of him, your arms around his neck as you press yourself against the hardness of his shorts.

So you think no more and again crash your lips against his, resuming what you were doing before, to which Aemond responds with the same rudeness and fervor.

And then without stopping kissing you, he carries you to the edge of the pool along with him.

You move your hips in circles on top of him, rubbing your needy center against his hard cock, while he caresses your thighs, your ass and all the skin he blindly finds without stopping kissing you, feeling his breathing just as ragged as yours.

Then he brings his hands up and starts sliding the strings of your bikini over your shoulders, sending fiery electricity throughout your body.

"What was it you said? That we couldn't do this here?" he murmurs hoarsely against your skin, leaving wet kisses on your collarbone and neck.

You moan, as your bikini top piece is loosened completely by Aemond's fingers and you involuntarily wiggle your hips more intensely.

"You just can't resist, can you?" he asks you amused amidst all the sensuality.

"Shut up," you whine pathetically into his lips.

This time he kisses you again, softly and tenderly, deep, as he with his hand pulls away the piece of your bikini top that covers your breasts, freeing them, causing him to groan at the sight in front of him.

"Fuck," he murmurs, "Such a pretty tits, princess."

He says to you with his eye fully dilated and watching you hungrily, then you moan as he brings his mouth to your hard, wet nipple and begins to caress it with his tongue and lips, sucking on it, while he kneads the other one with his hand.

"Oh yes," you moan, pulling your breasts closer to his face.

You continue to move your hips on top of him, desperate and needy to feel the friction his cock gives you against your swollen clit.

When you least expect it, you begin to approach your limit, as your whole body tenses and his caressing hands only add to the pleasure.

"Mhm," he moans against your hard nipple, then gives the same attention to the other, still kneading them as he pleases.

"Fuck, Aemond, please don't stop," you say under your breath.

But that's exactly what he does, he releases your nipple with a wet sound and captures your lips in a sensual kiss, making you moan and groan at the same time from the attention on your breasts.

You arch your neck and moan, clinging to him completely, needing more of him, driving you completely insane.

And you sigh as he again distributes kisses all over your neck and his teeth grind against your sensitive skin.

You feel the moist heat of his mouth and hands all over your body, as if he wants to mark you with each firm, possessive touch.

"Remember we have to be careful, baby," he suddenly murmurs hoarsely in your ear, feeling his warm breath, "And we don't want your brother to see his innocent little sister getting the fuck of her life if he comes back, do we?"

Despite all the desire you're feeling and you're dripping completely for him, his words reach your brain and scare you a little, so you force yourself to be patient and you both go up to your room.

And soon enough you find yourself lying on your bed, with Aemond on top of you, spreading your legs for him, watching with his dilated eye and gently biting his bottom lip your wet pussy ready for him.

"Seven Hells," he growls, running his fingers all over your entrance, "Look at you, you're dripping, princess."

His cock pulses in pain for release, watching you in complete delight as you moan with every movement of his fingers that collects your juices, spreading them all over your pussy, making you wiggle your hips against his hand.

"Aemond, please," you cry, needing to feel it inside you, now.

"What is it, baby? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fuck this pretty pussy hard?"

He teases you, running his fingertips over your hole, making you moan, sigh and groan.

"Please, just fuck me, fuck me with your cock," you implore him.

"Yesah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, please!"

"Only because you asked nicely."

He joins in, leaving you needy and trembling on your bed, spread wide open for him, watching as he removes his wet shorts and boxers, completely freeing his entire erect, heavy, hot, hard cock, just for you.

Your mouth waters at the sight and he proudly holds it in his hand, turning to make his way back to you, thrilling and scaring you at the same time as you've never had a cock like Aemond's inside you before.

"Do you take control pills? I don't have a condom."

"Yes, I take them, don't worry," you assure him instantly and he grins.

"Eager, huh?"

"Aemond," you groan and moan at the same time.

"Someone's acting like a little brat," he croons, starting to rub the tip of his cock against your pussy, making you shudder and moan, needing him inside you, "Behave yourself, princess. I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Stop teasing," you whine between whimpers.

When suddenly Aemond enters you in a single hard, firm movement that makes you release all the air in your lungs, moaning loudly at the rough intuition as he pulls it all out of you again.

"What did I say? Stop being a little brat and behave yourself," he warns you.

"Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I promise."

You plead desperately and moan as he slams the tip against your pussy, to again enter you fully in a more careful and slower way, letting you feel all of him, making you moan.

"Oh fuck, Aemond," you moan his name, drunk with pleasure, closing your eyes tight.

"Yeah, just like that, squeezing me so fucking good, baby," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.

He leans fully into you, kissing your hot, sweaty skin, just like him, then slides all the way down to your bottom, where you feel every inch of his long, hard cock, moaning into his mouth, as your whole body trembles.

He stops once he's all the way inside you, letting you get used to his size, while you feel him pulsing inside you and all his heat flooding through you.

When he rolls his hips in a grunt and his tip touches exactly your swollen clit in need of release.

His hands run along your waist and thighs as he lifts both of your legs and places them around his torso, feeling him sink more easily inside you.

"You're so hot, baby. So fucking perfect," he growls against your lips, closing his eye and rests his forehead with yours as he begins his swaying hips back and forth.

"You're so deep," you moan, clinging to his back, lightly digging your nails into his pale skin.

This makes Aemond grunt and feel more desperation as he begins to penetrate you with more rhythm, all the way in, with hard movements that hit exactly that spot inside you that makes you squirm beneath him.

"Yes Aemond, right there," you moan.

"Yeah? Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes, fuck, yes."

You both gasp into each other's mouths, where then his dark gaze returns to your features and he watches you intently, never ceasing to slam his hips hard and deep against you.

"You're mine now, you know that, don't you?" he asks you in a low, husky tone.

His words only make you clench tighter around him and you feel yourself slowly reaching your limit, each onslaught sending delicious waves all over your core that soothes your needy pussy.

"Say it," he demands forcefully, only this time to plunge your cock back into your wet pussy with a hard onslaught that knocks the air out of you, "Say you're mine."

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, Aemond. I am yours," you manage to say it, "I am completely yours."

He smiles complacently and contentedly, never ceasing to move for a moment.

"Yes, you are," he croons, "You. Are. Mine," he rams you hard to the hilt on every accentuation, not giving you time to anticipate it, making you moan loudly in pleasure and pain, "And I don't fucking share."

He brings his lips back to your skin, marking and sucking on your breasts and neck even with his heavy cock inside you, fucking you hard and grunting against your ear telling you how tight you are.

He takes you completely over the edge, where your mind goes blank with each thrust, filling you completely, swelling inside you, as both you and he begin to gasp for breath, but he doesn't slow down or change his pace, continuing to penetrate you and press you against your bed.

Until finally everything inside you explodes, you see stars behind your eyes and Aemond's warm semen fills everything inside you, coming with an almost painful grunt in your ear and with a last strong thrust that leaves you drunk with pleasure and makes you forget everything for a moment.

Things didn't end with Aemond there, not at all.

He was honest with you when he told you that he wouldn't hurt you or make you just another girl on his list, just as he was honest in telling you that you are now his and he doesn't share.

After that day in your room, the little secret affair began.

When Aemond comes to your house along with Aegon, you both behave towards each other as you were before, completely indifferent.

However, you and especially he are not entirely patient, so once you reach your limit, he secretly intercepts you in one of the empty classrooms or labs and you take advantage of that little moment as much as possible.

You don't even speak to each other and avoid as much as possible to look each other, where no one suspects the two of you. And at school it's the same, although especially there you have to be more careful.

Even in the library, you both find a secluded corner between the shelves of books and can't keep your hands off each other, where Aemond makes you come on his fingers and sometimes you also dare to suck his cock, hoping not to be discovered.

As far as you know, he has not been seen with other and his usual girls, since almost all the time the two of you are texting each other and sometimes, when Cregan is not at home, you let him know and he comes as fast as he can, not missing the opportunity.

Already being in the four walls of your room, the two of you can do whatever you want without fear of being discovered, where Aemond fucks you against your mattress in all positions.

And sometimes, when things have not been in favor of either of you, he climbs through your window at midnight and unable to hold back any longer, he fucks you silently, silencing your moans with his mouth, hands or cock, since Cregan's room is at the end of the hallway.

And this lasts for a while, all in secret, where you look for small moments to share intimate moments, hidden caresses and soft whispers in your ear that only you and he can hear.

But of course, the good things can't last forever.

Jason Lannister, a friend of Cregan's, throws a Halloween party at his house and practically the entire school has been invited. So you see this as an opportunity to be able to be with Aemond for a few moments of the party.

Cregan dresses up as a wizard and you choose to dress up as a sexy sailor girl with a skirt that exposes your legs, a simple white blouse, you put on your tie and also your hat, and then you and Cregan head off to the party.

You immediately look for Aemond, but he is nowhere to be seen, even though you meet Aegon and his younger brother, Daeron.

However, not to be obvious, you start pouring yourself drinks and talking to your friends, starting to get into the same mood as everyone else because of the music with twinkling lights and also because of the whole decorated house.

You see Aegon talking to Cassandra Baratheon, dresses up as a vampire and she as an angel, then you see Alysanne talking to your brother, dresses up as a bunny, and then you keep looking around the party, not understanding where Aemond is.

You are about to send him a message, when you look absentmindedly towards the kitchen and then, there he finally is, only he is not alone.

Dresses up as a pirate, Aemond is chatting with his ex-girlfriend, the gorgeous Alys Rivers, dresses up as a witch.

You had been enjoying the party, but your mood inevitably changes and also without being able to help it, you feel a twinge of jealousy all over your insides, watching them intently.

They both talk, she occasionally laughs and places her hand on his chest, playfully smacking it, both of them too close, while you see Aemond's grin on his lips at all times, making the knot of jealousy in your stomach tighter.

And, you mean, you can't even blame him, she's Alys Rivers.

When then at that moment your gaze crosses his casually, who slowly wipes away his smile, but you quickly avert your gaze from him as you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to act nonchalant.

But too late, he's already noticed your annoyed look.

However, you quickly make room with Aegon, Cassandra and Daeron, simply to dissemble in front of them and him as well. Then Cregan and Alysanne join in and of course so does he, but you don't even notice him and continue drinking.

You notice how he wants to approach you slyly on a few occasions, but you don't let him, you continue to laugh with Daeron, ignoring him altogether, not wanting to talk or be with him anymore.

Until the hour starts to get late and taking advantage of the fact that one of your friends is already leaving, you ask her to drop you off at your house and she accepts. You just tell Cregan, who nods and you leave the party with your friend.

And once you get home, you take off your costume, take a shower and get ready to sleep, although you should have expected Aemond to start calling you, but you send it to voicemail.

He calls you a couple of times more where you don't answer and you also get severe messages from him that you don't read, to finally leave your phone on mute and try to sleep.

But you barely last a few minutes with your eyes closed, suddenly you hear some sounds at your window.

You sit up confused in your bed, looking at your window, instantly knowing what it is or rather who it is, since only one person has the habit of doing this and you let out a long resigned breath.

Reluctantly you open your curtains and the window, where the figure of Aemond stands down there, watching you confused and attentive.

"What are you doing?" you reproach him sleepily.

"You're not answering my calls or texts," he tells you with some anger in his tone of voice, "And you ignored me the whole party."

You press your lips together in anger as well.

"It semeed to me like you were too busy," you can't help but say with some bitterness.

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"It's not what you thin—

"No matter. Go home. I want to sleep," you cut him off, intending to turn away from your window.

"I swear to God Y/N, I'm not leaving until you listen to me," he warns you.

"It's after midnight!" you reproach him.

"Open the door," he demands.

"No," you say firmly.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"I don't care."

"Y/N," he warns you again.

"Stay there all night, I'm not opening for you."

You sentence and finally move away from the window, close it and close your curtains as well.

Feeling no remorse, you settle back into your bed, ready to sleep again, but only a few seconds pass when you hear noise again.

And that's when you realize you should have locked your windows.

You startle and turn your head to watch how Aemond is entering through your windows with the same agility as always, with a serious and threatening look, jumping into your room and you look at him angrily.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"You don't know what you just got yourself into," he says as he makes his way towards you.

"Fuck you," you spit back at him.

"Oh yeah, I just pretend to do that, princess."

"Alys wasn't available at this time that you decided to come and play with me?"

He lets out a long breath, rolling his eye.

"You're getting it all wrong—

"Oh I am?" you inquire, "She's your fucking ex, Aemond. I'm not stupid."

"In fact yes, you are being stupid right now, " he says, coming towards you.

And just before you can escape, he catches you, instantly grabbing you by both wrists, cornering you between him and your bed, climbing on top of you with a mischievous, menacing grin and his pupil fully dilated.

"Let go of me," you gasp, trying to shake him off.

"Listen to me—

"I mean it, get off me and get the fuck out of my house!"

He cocks his head.

"Where did this bratty attitude come from, hm?"

"Aemond," you plead, "Stop it."

"Oh baby," he croons, bringing his lips to your ear, "Can't you see? Can't you see how fucking crazy I am about you?" he murmurs hoarsely.

You try to fight your own urges, telling yourself that you shouldn't let yourself get carried away by him, that he can talk and fuck whoever he wants, while you are only exclusively for him and these are just empty words to convince you.

"Alys and I ended on good terms, we're just friends, it's nothing to worry about," he says earnestly in your ear, as your breath is cut short when you feel his knee make its way between your legs.

"Aemond," you whine.

"But if you want me to stop talking to her, fine, I will," he murmurs in understanding, only to feel his knee press lightly into your pussy, making you moan.

"Oh, A-aemond-" you try to say, feeling so good.

"Yeah, baby? What's wrong? Does it feel good?"

You can't formulate words, especially when he puts more pressure and makes you gasp more, just that making you feel good, only to then feel him drop almost his weight against you and now positioning himself between your legs, he starts rubbing his hard cock inside his pants against you, making you shudder.

Now he gasps along with you, as he lets go of your wrists and slides one of his hands under your shirt, kneading one of your breasts with ease as you sleep without a bra.

You arch your back against him and bite your bottom lip as he begins to leave soft kisses down your neck, never letting go of your touch and never stopping rubbing against you.

"Please, Aemond, please," you beg him, needing him.

He marks the skin of your neck, sucking and sucking, then brings his lips back to your ear.

You bring one of your hands to his face and turn him towards you, kissing him with need and depth where he responds in kind, where you are completely delighted by his caresses and words.

"Now do you get it, princess?" he says hoarsely, "You're the only one who can make me play this fucking game of hide and seek with your brother and everyone else."

He says honestly, making you moan as he puts more pressure on his hips.

"But you know what? I've had enough and I don't fucking care if Cregan bothers or not. I don't give a shit."

And that night Aemond fucks you from behind, hard and fast, while you hold the sheets tightly under you and avoid shushing your sobs and moans too loudly against the pillow, as every time you do, Aemond gives you a hard spank with his hand on one of your ass cheeks as a way of punishment for your bratty attitude earlier.

And he doesn't give you a chance to silence your moans as he gathers all your hair into a fist and makes your back arch, while his other hand takes it to hold your throat firmly and rests his cheek against yours to fuck you with more accessibility, fast and deep, bringing you to the peak several times.

And when it's all over, you melt into the arms of your perfect, official boyfriend.

thank you so much for reading!❤

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen smut #aemond one shot

[bun-fish]

hey folks, you know the drill...

im back with more IYGABAB art

Cardinal with an ice umbrella, complete !

to see the process, here's the post (contains B&W version)

mask design credit goes to @noir-renard as usual, though I took some liberties on modifying the look to make it resemble the face of a Northern Cardinal >_< (also called redbird or just cardinal)

So in short, Danny's look is the mixture of these two:

(left: northern cardinal. right: yellow-billed cardinal, according to the author, this is what he'd look like with the Penguin Goon Suit & red-themed gear!)

Had a lot of fun drawing this:

The Court of Birds will decide your fate

#:hey bun do you think you're making to much content for one specific fic #what? noooo what do you mean :) #tis my pleasure to contribute to the Batburger phandom #dp x dc #art #dpxdc #illustration #if you give a bat a burger #iygabab

[averageallogene]

Resubmitting because my WiFi weirded out when I was posting.

Jean convinces Diluc to dump you for her, because you are, in her own words, 'Not noble enough'.

With nothing holding you back in Mondstadt, you return to Inazuma to take up your Clan duties.

Less than a year later, you receive Diluc and Jean's wedding invite and you attend with Ayato as your plus-one.

At the reception, Eula instantly recognizes your Clan crest on your obi belt.

Jean proceeds to mock you as she makes her rounds to greet her wedding guest and Eula defends you, stating that your Clan is the overseer of the Tri-Commission *and* the First Clan of Inazuma, out-ranked only by the Raidan Shogun and Yae Miko. And you are its Clan Head.

Diluc ♡⊹˚ Not Enough (SFW)

fem. reader (3rd person) ; angst. cw for jealousy, heartbreak. Implied Ayato x reader.

4k words.

notes. Alright I am back with a bag of piping hot telenovela drama! I had a lot of fun writing this, even if I fear my Jean and my Diluc turned out a little ooc? Oh and Ayato is a petty menace. Well, suffice to say I took some liberty with this one- I hope we can just slide past through it and I’ll get better at their portrayals  eventually <3. Enjoy!✧˖°

The tranquility of Mondstadt, accompanied by the welcomed breezes it brought daily, was enough for anyone to fall in love with the country. The land of the Anemo Archon was blessed with peace, as well as a beauty to behold as its people were one of the most welcoming [F/N] had ever come across. It had been enough to compel her to stay a little longer when she’d begun traveling around Teyvat, with it bringing something more that urged her to remain there.

Diluc Ragnvindr, an otherwise very well known bachelor of Mondstadt, had certainly caught her eye. The feeling seemed to have been mutual, for [F/N]’s appearance and Inazuman style of clothing definitely stood out amongst the usual crowd. It had begun friendly enough, the winery tycoon seeking information regarding the Inazuman palette when it came to alcoholic beverages. Of course, as a businessman Diluc had plans of expanding to other nations, with  or without vision hunt decrees meddling in the middle. During that time, [F/N] had remained in Mondstadt, visibly stressed with the fate of her country. Thankfully, she had a friendly shoulder to rely on on the same wealthy bachelor. It turned out Diluc wasn’t all appearances, his very being burning with a gentleness that was enough to swoon the young woman off her feet. 

[F/N] was far from her family during said time, and exchanging letters was difficult. She’d never been exactly too open when it came to them, yet no one wished to pry. With the borders closed, she had next to no possibility of returning without possibly being detained, regardless of status. War reeked with personal vendettas after all, and to someone of high status as herself, many would indeed covet to take what was hers amidst the chaos. Unbeknownst to her, it had been these early signs of trouble that had helped her in convincing her father of letting her seek out the world whilst she could, sending his only daughter off to the land of the free before she too were to be caged down by duties and unfortunate circumstances.

Homesickness was terrible, but thankfully she had Diluc to aid her. Together they’d spend time together, whether that was in Angel’s Share as the bustling tavern closed its doors for the night, or whenever he offered her to have a tranquil walk through the Dawn Winery. His estate had quickly become one of her favorites, the scenery and the sound of the rustling leaves bringing an inner peace strong enough to temporarily wash away her worries. With the more time they spent together, they found more in common that they had, including dreams, plans for the future, even hobbies. It wouldn’t be difficult to find the pair reading by the fireplace, or even discussing various topics while enjoying a game of chess, hence many murmurs of Diluc’s sweetheart beginning to circle throughout Mondstadt. 

Still, he was a traditional man when it came to such affairs. Diluc was one to take things slowly, yet it was more than noticeable the way he held her hand gently, the way he’d open doors whenever they arrived somewhere, the way his hand would linger on her lower back as they walked through the streets. It wasn’t as though they were official yet, but to [F/N], it was more than apparent she was being courted. And truth be told, her heart couldn’t leap any higher.  Sadly, her expectations would come crashing to the ground, coincidentally just as the climax of the vision hunt decree took place miles away in Inazuma. 

Diluc had grown hesitant, a little distant even. He was a man to remain firm in his beliefs, yet with the right approach and from the right people, even the most determined man could falter. He’d told [F/N] of stories of his childhood, of happier times when his father was around, of times he and Kaeya got along well. Of times he had friends over at the winery, when his mind would only be preoccupied with fantasies he’d construct with his friends at the height of their innocence. [F/N] had listened to him happily, content with the idea of him having a good childhood, of having good friends. Good friends such as Jean Gunnhildr. [F/N] had noticed the way her glance would sparkle at him, yet they were only friends he’d reassured her, and it would’ve definitely seemed as such before it no longer did. The young lady wasn’t ignorant; the way Jean eyed Diluc paralleled the way she did as well, yet she had confidence in the chance she had with him until he’d taken the first step backwards.

He’d been calm, gentle with her upon shooting her down. His heart was murky, he had too many responsibilities. He had a lot to take care of between his tavern and his winery, as well as other responsibilities she wasn’t aware of. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to commit, and he was most sorry for leading her on. [F/N]’s heart broke with the way she was shot down, yet she gracefully smiled still, thanking him for his honesty. Even though she was the one being rejected, the woman placed a friendly hand on his arm, ensuring there were no harsh feelings, as well as wishing him the very best. Wishing that he soon find himself, reassuring that she would always support him. The urge to cry was strong, more so with the way his often gentle gaze shifted away from her. Yet, [F/N] persevered, pushing back any theories her mind crafted as the man she’d grown to love was swept away from her fingers. 

A gut feeling whispered to her that Jean had been the instigator, yet with no concrete proof, [F/N] was left out in the rain as Mondstadt grew less and less picturesque. The winery didn’t feel welcoming anymore, the once bustling streets of the main city were now noisy instead of charming. The mere sight of the crest of the knights of Favonius irked her, for it reminded her of the woman she knew was the reason Diluc had grown distant. In all her years of education back in Inazuma, [F/N] had grown to know when a rival struck through the shadows. She’d grown to realize the subtle signs, yet she’d held on faith for her beloved’s friend. It had proved futile, and now, bitterness replaced the fondness she’d held for the city of freedom. 

[F/N] held a letter that had finally reached her from her home country, bags being packed by the few escorts that had arrived to retrieve her. She’d arranged for them to only move at night, lest she wished to have unwanted attention on her as well as the Inazuman samurai her bedridden father had sent for her. Her duties ripped her out of her wishes to remain in Mondstadt, reality beckoning her back as her dreams were left behind with a broken heart, swept by the breeze. 

Ironically enough, Kaeya, of all people, had been the only one to notice her that night. There was the faint scent of wine on him, yet he was still sober enough to have a coherent speech. He’d waited for her by the city walls, a small expression of regret as he inquired if she really had to go. The relationship between the brothers was brittle to say the least, yet Kaeya would’ve been a fool to deny how Diluc seemed happy with her. How he liked seeing his brother happy. The Cavalry Captain voiced his wish for her to stay, explaining how he enjoyed her company, how Mondstadt did. It stung [F/N], yet with a sad smile, she told him she couldn’t stay even if she wished to. And without explaining further as to why she had to leave, Kaeya suddenly let out with a bitter chuckle.

“Is it because Jean sees you as not noble enough? I can assure you [F/N], no one here really cares for such superficial reasoning.”

It had struck a chord in her, for her suspicions were confirmed. All of this heartbreak had stemmed because [F/N], no matter how hard she tried, would never be one of them, the children of the wind. She was from the land of lightning, and apparently to some, appreciating and learning of their history wasn’t as good enough as being directly related to it. Her hands grasped her coat tightly, and with a curt response of how it was due to other things, she’d thanked Kaeya for everything before leaving the city in the middle of the darkness.

The voyage back to Inazuma had been long, but even more so bittersweet. She’d just arrived in time to say a final goodbye to her father, too sick to even get up from his bed as he held her hand one last time. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes, yet he was too weak to inquire on who was the monster to hurt his beloved daughter. All he could say was that the future of their clan lay now on her hands, the pressure nearly suffocating her. Amidst the conflict with the vision hunt decree, her eldest brother, who’d sided with the rebellion in secret, had been murdered, his drink poisoned. And even as justice had been served, life needed to move on, leaving the seat of Clan Head now to her. 

Days in Inazuma were vinegary. Her homecoming had been filled with heartache, having lost her brother, and soon after her father as well. Days, weeks, months, they all passed in a blur, [F/N] focusing on the heavy task of overseeing the tri-commissions as she donned her clan’s crest with pride. 

Not noble enough, it kept repeating inside her head every day, every time she put her obi on. The young woman hated to admit it, but the pettiness of it all had become her drive, fueling her as she surpassed her father in more aspects than one. In a short amount of time, she’d proved herself as a worthy ruler of her clan, an iron fist masked with elegance and grace as her name grew more and more respected by all the other clans. 

Despite her secluded life filled with responsibility, as well as her still distrusting heart, [F/N] allowed very few people in. She could count her friendly acquaintances with solely one hand, but amongst them were the Kamisato siblings. Businesses aside, they were able to lay down their crests for an afternoon every once in a while, enjoying each other’s company over finely brewed tea as they watched the sunset together, recounting stories to one another as time flew by during such leisure moments.

It had been during one such rare occasion, that [F/N] found herself enjoying tea with Kamisato Ayato, his sister busy with her own set of duties whilst the Commissioner took a much needed break. His trained eye could see how she was tense, eyes lowered as they remained narrowed with a bitterness he’d known all too well. Gently, he’d inquired if all was well, and with a quick glance, [F/N] debated if she should burden the already busy head of the Yashiro Commission with her petty bickering.

“You should know by now that I’m not one to ask things out of courtesy, [F/N].” Ayato had calmly stated, an enigmatic smile dancing on his lips as she took a sip of her tea. “I’m genuinely inquiring about your well-being, for I do in fact care. So please, if something is troubling you, do not hesitate to say.” 

And with a heavy sigh, the woman placed her cup down, before finally coming clean. From her large sleeve she revealed to him a sealed letter, one with a wax stamp of nothing more than the Ragnvindr clan displayed on it.

“It seems one of my acquaintances back in Mondstadt is about to get married, and has decided to invite me to his wedding.” Ayato hid his grin of amusement with the way she spat the word acquaintance with such distaste. It was enough for him to have an inkling of what could’ve transpired during her stay in the land of the Anemo Archon. “I suppose it’s his way of voicing his wish of letting bygones be bygones, but I cannot help but taste the sweet irony of it all.”

“Oh? Has he, perchance, hurt you deeply?” He’d inquired, watching as she lowly nodded her head.

“I was under the assumption he’d been courting me,” [F/N] revealed to her friend, remembering the way her heart clenched upon first reading its contents. The fact he was marrying after such little time apart, and to Jean no less, still filled her broken heart with such indescribable bitterness. “But then… Nevermind. I was needed to return, regardless. One way or another, it would’ve ended in tragedy.”

“My deepest condolences.” Ayato spoke softly, his hand gently resting atop hers before holding it cordially. “Do you intend on skipping the wedding? Just know there is no shame in doing what’s best for you.”

“I’ve thought about it.” She sighed, holding his hand back with a thankful squeeze. “Yet, I can’t bring myself to shut him off entirely either. He was, after all, someone who had helped me a lot during my stay in Mondstadt.”

“Ah yes, the heart is a most complex little thing…” Ayato breathed out, a faint smile on his face as he offered her an understanding glance. “When is it taking place?”

“In about three months.” [F/N] had nearly sulked, still glaring at the letter as if her sheer glance could burn the whole thing. Ayato had simply nodded, before insisting she take a little longer to reflect on what would be best for her.

In truth, Ayato decided to free up his schedule for three months into the future. Not only could he be a little petty when it came to his own allies, he truly did care for the well-being of his friend. In all honesty, perhaps it was best he didn’t know the full details of how she’d been shot down, lest he make an even bigger, yet still elegant, ruckus. In the end, he’d offered his company were she to decide on going to the celebration, and against all odds, [F/N] had accepted. With Ayato by her side, the young woman felt a sudden surge of confidence. Perhaps it was the idea of her being accompanied by a kind, and well accomplished man, that had her feeling that way.

And with her confirmation letter being sent with the intent on bringing a plus one, time was the only thing between [F/N] and her return to Mondstadt. Diluc was surprised she’d accepted, but he couldn’t deny he was happy. In all honesty, he truly wished for them to start over, for her friendship was deeply valued to the man. Jean on the other hand, was a little flabbergasted she’d accepted. To her, it had solely been a courtesy to send an invite, yet she’d be lying if she hadn’t predicted her decline of attending their wedding. Despite the slight disappointment, the Lionfang Knight was already stressed as it was; perhaps it would be best to just ignore it, and prepare for their big day as best as she could. 

The day for their voyage had arrived, and true to his word, Ayato accompanied her on their ship. Everything had been prepared, their duties being fulfilled by others for the duration of their trip. It was a much needed breath of fresh air, a small vacation he’d joked, smiling with eloquence even when he wasn’t one to enjoy large group gatherings. He’d insisted that he and [F/N] both dress in their finest clothing, for they were representing their Clans on foreign lands, and by extension, representing Her Excellency as well. Their crests displayed proudly on their clothing, made of the finest silks and brightest tones, arms linking together as [F/N] held her fan to her lips as they finally disembarked at the docks. 

Ayato had surely made a statement with the entire entourage he’d organized for the two of them, it almost seemed as though he indeed knew of what had been the reason given for their breakup. Then again, [F/N] thought, perhaps he did know. Ayato was a man of many means after all, who was to say he hadn’t read her bitterness like an open book? The way [F/N] looked at him smiling in that knowing way of his didn’t help her case, either… Well, it was too late to go back, anyway.

The way they’d arrived on Mondstadt had certainly caused an uproar, citizens watching in curiosity as the samurai escorted them to the hotel where they would stay until the day of the festivities. Most of the Knights of Favonius were busy as per usual, away from their arrival save for the guards stationed at the city gates who had warmly welcomed them upon confirming their identities and the purpose of their visit. Gossip was quick to follow, yet Ayato paid no mind, calmly chatting away with [F/N] as they were led to their rooms.

News of wealthy guests from the east reached the couple’s ears, yet neither Diluc nor Jean paid much mind. After all, Diluc had many wealthy acquaintances, most of them stemming from his businesses within the wine industry. All he cared for was to ensure all their confirmed guests had indeed arrived, including [F/N]. And upon being told she had in fact, he only nodded his head, not inquiring any further. Him and his bride were much too busy making the final preparations after all, and unbeknownst to him, Kaeya only watched in the background, an amused grin on his face as he patiently waited for the big show.

The bells rang with vigor on the big day, [F/N] jolting inside her room as she wasn’t exactly used to the way their Church would announce anything so loudly. Ayato had already finished preparing, smiling her way before offering his help in adjusting her obi. 

“You look positively beautiful.” He’d stated in a matter-of-fact tone, watching as she smiled at him with an honest, thankful gleam. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” She had sighed, nodding her head as she inwardly psyched herself up to go forth with the day. And without much issue, the pair left their hotel and made haste for the sight of the ceremony. 

Amidst the sea of guests, their presence had gone mostly unnoticed. It was best as such, [F/N] gazing ahead as she watched the man who she’d once thought would be the one marry another woman. Her heart still clenched slightly at the reality, yet Ayato’s presence helped her in grounding herself as she took a deeper breath. Her arm remained around his, admiring how beautiful they looked, how happy they gazed at one another. Even if Jean forever held a deep stain in her eyes, she couldn’t deny how radiant and gorgeous she looked in her wedding gown. The warm glow of the church veiled around them in a romantic manner, the union finally being tied as the main ceremony came to a close. For the first time in a while, [F/N] found herself smiling at the sight of Diluc with another. Perhaps, she thought, she would eventually get through this. Even if it still hurt, even if she still thought back on how she hadn’t been enough. 

Customs between Mondstadt’s weddings and Inazuma’s weddings differed, yet she and Ayato found themselves easily following along as everyone moved on to the reception. It was during this time that the guests began conversing more freely with one another, finally having a look around as they noted who had come to support the happy couple, who had come with whom. It was during this time that [F/N] could feel eyes on her, glances of surprise to herself and her partner being shared as she commented on how the food was delightful with Ayato. 

“Is that… [F/N]?” Eula had commented with Kaeya, who had nodded his head with an amused grin on his face. Despite the elaborate way she dressed when in comparison with the way she did when she had stayed in Mondstadt, nothing could escape her eye as a noble herself. “She looks radiant. And the man beside her…”

[F/N]’s voice could be heard not far, Ayato relishing in the way his comment had brought a laugh out of her. He patted himself on his back for having gotten the willpower to deal with such a packed event, for the way his friend seemed more relaxed had been more than worth it in his eyes. They kept on chatting together, a select few female acquaintances of [F/N]’s joining them as they soon found more company to converse with.

“[F/N]! It’s been so long… How have you been?” 

“You look amazing, [F/N]! I heard you’ve returned to Inazuma suddenly, is everything alright?”

“Who’s your friend there, [F/N]?” Followed with a knowing wink, causing the woman to blush before denying their accusations any further. 

Despite everything, the attention directed to a corner of their reception definitely wasn’t unnoticed by the happy couple, more so by the bride as her violet eyes gazed around. Jean found herself surprised upon landing her eyes on [F/N]’s face, recognizing her rather quickly despite the intricate ornaments she wore on her hair and the delicate makeup. She looked stunning, she thought, before stopping herself and clearing her throat. 

Her wandering gaze hadn’t gone unnoticed by Diluc, whose eyes followed before landing on [F/N] as well. It took him a moment to register who it was, and when it did, his shifting expression caused a stir of emotions deep within his bride.

“[F/N]?...” He’d muttered, Jean squeezing his hand lightly to return his attention to her.

“Come Diluc, we have to thank everyone for coming.” She’d hastily led him to the table where the rest of the Knights dined, all raising glasses of champagne and wine as the couple approached them. 

“Ah, Diluc, Jean! The ceremony was wonderful,” Lisa had smiled their way, a giggle following. “I nearly teared up at the vows. Goodness, weddings always make me so emotional.”

“The food is also delectable.” Kaeya grinned, his glass rising slightly above the others as he gave his brother a nod. “Congratulations to the both of you.”

“Congratulations! May your years be blessed with happiness and good fortune!” Amber smiled brightly.

“Yes, congratulations.” Eula complemented, smiling softly as Diluc held Jean close.

“Thank you everyone for coming. It is an honor to share such an important day with you all.” Diluc said with the utmost sincerity, smiling softly as Jean rested her hand on his chest.

“It’s a great pleasure.” Eula’s gaze narrowed as she could sense an unnecessary comment bubbling within Kaeya’s chest. The way he grinned spelled trouble, and just as she predicted so, the man swirled his glass of wine before he continued. “Of course, we wouldn’t miss your wedding for nothing! But perhaps it’s to those who’ve come from the furthest you should extend your greatest gratitudes.”

“Of course, we intend on thanking everyone as we go around every table.” Jean huffed with a small smile, still not following where he was headed. She rested a hand on her hip as she raised an eyebrow softly, Diluc too eyeing his brother as if expecting more.

“Oh, that’s great! I was beginning to think you were rounding around [F/N]’s table on purpose. But then again, you must still be thinking about how to properly thank her, no?”

“Kaeya!” Amber sighed, shaking her head as the mood slightly shifted around the table. The man simply shrugged, sipping on his wine before sighing with content over the wonderful undertones, as he explained. 

“Ah, Diluc! Congratulations, you lucky bastard!” Varka’s voice roared across the reception hall, hands plopping down on his shoulders as he laughed loudly. Diluc could only remain awkward as he quietly thanked him, the Grand Master practically whisking him away as he further congratulated him and gave him lessons on how to ensure his wife’s happiness.

“Honestly, I was surprised to know she’d be coming.” Jean watched her husband not stray too far, finally letting out a small sigh and folding her arms across her chest. “I’m still not quite sure how we’re going to address this, as her presence seems… Rather ill-intended.”

“Oh?” Kaeya’s gaze turned to her from the corner of his eyes, finding her choice of words amusing as he let her ramble on. 

“Diluc had voiced his wish of inviting her, and thinking it was just a formality I decided to agree with it. But for her to actually accept and show up seems bitter.” It was clear the stress was racing to her head, the table listening awkwardly as she rambled on. “While I understand it still must hurt given the circumstances, we would’ve hoped she would’ve let bygones be bygones. I simply find her actions to lack in-”

“Nobility?” Eula scoffed quietly, eyebrow raising quietly before watching Jean hesitate if she agreed with her or not. It was her turn to cross her arms, speaking directly to her. “I find it quite the opposite. I think that accepting and coming by to show her support shows just how noble she is. After all, for the head of her clan to not show up would’ve been scandalous. Do you know what kind of rumors that would start up, Jean?”

“Wait- Did you just say head of her clan?” Amber repeated, her eyes widening as Eula nodded her head.

“Yes. Haven’t you all realized? Look, notice [F/N]’s obi.” The group found themselves rather indiscreetly gazing towards [F/N]’s table, the crest displayed with pride as she enjoyed Ayato’s company. “It’s the crest of the first clan of Inazuma, otherwise known as the overseer of the Tri-Commissions of the nation. Basically, it’s the oldest still standing clan of the nation, only surpassed by the Archon herself and their Guji.” 

The table slowly digested the information, Eula proving yet again just how well educated she was not only to what concerned Mondstadt, but aristocracy of other nations as well. Her legs remained crossed as she finished explaining herself, leg bouncing lightly as she battled with herself to remain cordial despite not having quite liked her friend’s statement. Even if Jean was overly stressed, or their situation with [F/N] hadn’t been ideal, it had most definitely been an unnecessary comment. 

“Besides, the man next to her is none other than the head of the Yashiro Commission. Their Commission has many duties, including overseeing ceremonies and rituals that do include weddings. So, her choice of companion can most definitely be seen as yet another layer to her virtuous acceptance of your invitation.”

Kaeya found himself grinning unabashedly at the way Jean glanced away, clearly embarrassed with the outcome of the situation. She still held her arms crossed around her chest in a defensive manner, the Cavalry Captain thinking it would just be best if she left to avoid any further hits to her pride. For the first time in a while, he found himself agreeing fully with Eula, letting her take the reins of the situation as Jean’s ego was put in place. Sure, Kaeya liked Jean. Yet still, he couldn’t deny he thought [F/N] would’ve been a better match for Diluc. Call him petty, but he was enjoying the situation. 

“Sorry about that,” Diluc sighed as he returned to their side, his hand resting on Jean’s waist as he gazed around the table. “Erhm, everything alright? You all look, how should I put it…”

“Nothing to worry about.” His brother grinned, waving his hand dismissively as everyone began eating their food. “You go and thank everyone for coming by, yeah? Enjoy yourselves, after all it’s your wedding day!”

Despite the confusion with his sudden upbeat tone, Diluc simply nodded, leading his bride to continue on going through table to table. Needless to say, now that it was he who took the lead, they soon found themselves at [F/N]’s table, the man surprised to see her so intricately dressed and in the presence of someone of such stature.

Nonetheless, and despite the sudden lump of awkwardness that lodged itself in his throat, Diluc took his time to properly thank them for coming, [F/N] simply gazing at them and replying it was their pleasure. Ayato was the one to take charge in their response, smiling cordially as he basked in the way his bride seemed to avert her gaze from them. If looks could diminish someone’s presence, Jean would’ve been long gone, reduced to atoms. And Ayato would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it, holding [F/N]’s hand with such delicacy as if they were more than friends.

And as they left, he carefully leaned over her ear, watching as she met him halfway to hear what he had to say.

“Well, that was amusing. Perhaps next year we should invite them to our wedding. A fun retaliation, no?”

“W-What?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #yoko drabbles

[v3nusxsky]

so i saw you have no Nat request but was wondering if could do wanda and Nat x freader smut with these prompts

48.“Watch your mouth...”

19. “I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

60“You broke the rules…”

with dom Nat and wanda bratty reader

maybe they’re all out at like a bar for a celebration of some sorts and R feels like little left out because Nat and Wanda are talking to each other and barely including her in the conversation so she decides have a little attitude with them . this just gets r less in the conversation so she gets up and sits next to some other girl and fake flirts with her this catches Nats eye . which leads them to take R home and give her reminder of the rules ;)

(aka punishment)

if not Wanda and Nat then just Nat would be fine

if you do this and do the both can Nat be the slightly like harsher one and Wanda not like a completely soft dom but is not as harsh as Nat can be

hope have a lovely day

i love your writing especially “needy puppy”

Bratty Baby 18+

*Authors note~I took a lot of creative liberties here with this one so I hope that's okay and that you'll enjoy it*

Trigger warnings~ dp dom Wandanat sun brat r g!p Nat enchanter strap on wanda  harsh dom Nat slight soft dom Wanda, overstimulation kink teasing dildos Voyeurism punishment Dacryphilia size kink voice kink oral fixation mommy and daddy kink smut smut smutttt

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Tony was always throwing parties after every successful mission, you never knew why. Perhaps he wanted to flash the cash and his success but you liked to think his love language is showering you all with gifts and parties to celebrate achievements the team made. You love dressing up for your girlfriends, allowing them to take in your outfits always led to a fun night. The team knew of your relationship dynamics, but had never once questioned either of your girlfriends, probably because they could kick the rest of the teams ass without even braking a sweat.

Normally you'd be hanging off one of their arms all night, but tonight they seemed to be immersed in one another's company. It was like you were third wheeling in your own relationship and for the first time you felt jealousy towards them both. They very rarely included you in their conversations, you didn't know much about it. You tried to show them your hurt at their ignorance but they seemed unfazed by your clear upset. That's when your plan formed. If they wouldn't give you attention then you'd go find someone who will.

Truly you didn't know how it happened but it did, you were leant up against the bar nursing a drink while carol tried to poorly flirt with you, asking about a scar you'd gotten a year ago. You weren't interested at all, very in love with your girlfriends but you could practically feel Natasha glaring in your direction so you fed into it. Fake flirting with Carol seemed to grab the attention of both women so you weren't surprised when both of them came to you. Natasha behind you sneaking a hand to your head while Wanda stood between you and Carol. A little whimper escaped you at the tug to your hair. "Dekta, why don't you let Carol go enjoy her night you are done" she murmured to you eyeing Carol dangerously causing her to flee.

"Draga, you know better than to whore yourself out" Wanda purred causing you to retaliate, "I bet Carol would fuck me right!" The mumble caught by both women causing Nat to rage on and Wanda to worry. "Nat, you're hurting me" you whimpered as she dragged you back to your room with Wanda on your tails. "Nat honey, maybe you should calm down" Wanda tried as you were thrown into the bedroom.  The two women began to converse, little did you know Wanda was trying to make Nats temper deflate a little for you. "You don't fucking want me know" you all but screamed at them.

"Watch your mouth you whore" Nat seethed stalking towards you like a animal hunting prey. "ljubezen" the softer one of your girlfriends warned, she meant business but was no where near as angry as Natasha. Natasha held your throat and slammed you into the wall, her lips roughly fighting with yours now. Wanda taking the free time to strip from her clothing while Nat marked up your exposed neck. "I swear to god I'll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can't walk." She growled before dragging you to the bed where Wanda laid spread and playing with her puffy cunt. "Go and eat mommy out, prove you can be a good slut for us."

Crawling onto the bed you immediately tried to kiss Wanda's soft thighs but Tasha forced your head into her cunt, "eat" she growled. Immediately, you began to give kitten licks to her soaking cunt, her clit being spoilt with attention before plunging your tongue into her tight little hole. "Oh fuck, baby yes there yes good girl" Wanda mewled causing Natasha to lean over to slap Wanda face, "she's nothing more than a worthless whore Wanda, do not make me punish you too." Tears sprang in wandas eyes, "oh dekta you look so pretty when you cry, daddy doesn't mean to take her anger out on you. This slut is the one who should get it. Don't you agree?" A yes was squealed as you managed to throw the witch over the edge and fuck her through it.

Natasha once again tugged you up by your hair to spin you around and thrust her hard veiny cock into your tight throat. "Make this wet for daddy slut" was all she offered before thrusting into you. Wanda took the time to calm her body and strap up and enjoy the show. "Natty" Wanda whined when she was ready, "let me have a turn." That was how you found yourself sucking Wandas strap happily while Nat edged you with your aching clit.

Once both women had enough you were immediately positioned on all fours, Natasha lining her self up with your hips to hold them steady. Wanda teasing your folds with the head of the strap, "oh yes baby so wet for mommy"she purred before thrusting in. "Mommy no big too big" you whimpered causing Natasha to smack your ass in warning, "you'll take it, mommy wants to stretch out your fuck hole to make sure you can take daddy's cock." Natasha helped you fuck yourself onto Wandas dick as she stretched out your walls. "Oh god mommy! Daddy! Wanna cum" you mewled.

"Cum my whore" Wanda purred happily as she was approaching her edge too. A rough thrust had you both tumbling over that edge together. "Mine" the red headed Russian growled practically ripping you off Wands dick and thrusting into you from behind. The sheer size of her dick stretching you more than Wanda had. "Mommy it hurts make her stop" you cried hoping she'd take pity on you. "You broke the rules baby" Wanda reminded before completely ignoring the pleas and cries for her to help you.

Nat is a passionate lover but her temper flared often making it hard for her to know when to stop. "Wands look the pretty slut is crying. Look at how beautiful she looks taking me Wanda" Nat panted with every rough thrust, "the more you cry dolly the more I want to ruin you." You'd lost count how many times you came around her cock, the pleasure and pain dizzying. "Stop stop please daddy I can't" you whined, only to be shut up by Wanda popping her breast into your mouth, "shhh baby here suck on mommy."

Natasha happily filled you to the brim as you screamed around Wandas nipple. When she finally slipped from your now gaping hole you could see the mixture of both your cum seeping from your own hole onto the bed. Trying to catch your breath you noticed Wanda slipping underneath your body and Nat repositioning her already hard cock. You weren't even sure how two cocks could fit into your small cunt but these two lovers were determined to make them fit. "Oh look at the cock slut wands, taking both our dicks into your needy cunt"

Natasha shoved two fingers into your mouth as they both pounded into you, it was awkward at first but they soon found a rhythm to overstimulate your poor puffy cunt. Tears streaming like a raging river, you continued to moan and whine as you came around their dicks again and agains. Your orgasm causing you to clamp around them like a vice. Making them cum became the ultimate goal, and when you achieved that you tapped out immediately, the pain now outweighing the pleasure.

Both women flipped like a switch into caring and loving, making sure you were cared for and loved, cleaning up and cuddling with your exhausted body while they whispered words of praise and love until you all drifted off to sleep.

Word count~ 1552

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #wandanat x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wandanat x reader smut #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandanat x y/n #mommy wanda #natasha marvel #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #nat x you #natahsa romanoff

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello~!

So may I request a poly ghost face (from 1996) where they have an autistic trans!reader. Ik a lot (I'm projecting) the reader stims vocally by mimicking what they say, and they have a special interest (am like bugs, gore, sharks, dinosaurs, something around those lines yk? I feel like gore would fit) the reader rambles and rants Abt their special interest a lot! Just those kinds of things. I feel like you'd be able to capture this perfectly, thank you! Have a wonderful time zone :)

Poly Ghostface x autistic trans male reader

Headcanons

I always headcanon Stu as having something like ADHD, or just more hyperactive autism.

Been a while since I wrote about these two, huh? I’ve kinda missed em, ngl. Hope it’s alright I took some liberties with the hyperfixations :)

I can imagine that maybe you were friends with Stu when you were kids, because you were both “weird” in other people’s opinion. Stu because he was too hyperactive and could never sit still, and you because of your weird interests and how you were quite antisocial at times.

Time would pass, you guys would grow older. Stu would become someone popular, as his erratic and hyper personality becomes something others admire because he’s fun, whilst you stay being the weirdo with too much interest in medical texts, insects, and decomposition.

Neither of you meant to do it, but you would grow apart. Stu would get his new friends, specifically Billy, and you would stay by yourself burying yourself in your special interests. Its not strange to find you flipping through medical books or books about the horrors of war and medical malpractice. The more pictures the better.

When its not medical texts and war pictures with as much gorey detail as possible in the text and pictures, you can be found reading about death and the work of being a mortician, the way a body decays, and all that.

And when its neither of those things, you can be found looks at bugs, lifting rocks or moving trash to see what critters you can find. You have a sketchbook you like to draw in, three ones at that, one for each hyperfixation since you don’t wanna mix the information in them.

Its in the many niche medical books you learn about being transgender, and suddenly how uncomfortable you are in your own body makes sense. You don’t need any friends, or your families support to transition, that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You haven’t really had any real friends since you split form Stu when you were kids, and your creepy interests chase off anyone who might attempt to befriend you.

So, when you show up one day to school and openly tell people you are now a boy, no one really questions it, because why would they? You’re already weird, and compared to all your other quirks, being a boy is probably the most normal thing about you.

Through all these years you haven’t experienced as much bullying as you probably would have anywhere else, all thanks to Billy and Stu.

Stu because he still sees you as his friend in some way, and Billy because he’s fascinated by you. One day after you had come out, he walked behind you and saw you drawing detailed diagrams of top surgery in grotesque detail, and Billy has been hooked since.

At some point you and Billy would end up talking, one way or another. Maybe it was at the video store around Halloween one night, maybe the year Sidney’s mom died, and Billy would ask your opinion on the horror movie selection.

Youd grimace and say they sucked since the gore was so unrealistic, which Billy, the freak, would definitely ask into why you thought so. This would lead to you infodumping to him for a long time, going through multiple movies and explaining how its unrealistic and what would have made it better.

As infodumping goes, you don’t even realize how long you’ve been standing there talking to one of the hottest guy at your school about fictional gore, until Randy has to tell you guys that the store is closing soon.

You end up getting real embarrassed about wasting his time like that, which Billy is quick to tell you that nothing was wasted because he loved talking about it with you and hearing what you had to say. He would love to talk again some time.

You don’t really believe him, until he searches you out the next day in your shared free period when you are sitting outside drawing bugs and beetles, dragging Stu with him of all people. You haven’t actually interacted with Stu in a while, so you cringe and get jitters when he hugs you and gets into your personal space.

Its Billy who has to remind him of personal space, and before you know it, they’ve asked in about your special interests, and then they just sit back as you infodump and show them the pictures and drawings you have in all three of your sketchbooks, making the two Woodsboro killers fall for you harder and harder.

Time would pass and you three would start spending a lot of time together, Billy and Stu always hanging around you to listen to what you have to say, never growing tired no matter how much you infodump.

Stu would be the first to confess his feelings, as he feels fast and he feels strong, so one day when you two are laying on his bed and you’re talking about the difference between two beetles who look almost the exact same, whilst also talking about lungs and how they’re built, Stu just leans over and kisses you.

You would be so confused, until Stu tells you that he really likes you, he would even spill the beans that Billy feels the same way too. As if summoned, Billy would show up and Stu would be all like “right Billy? You like him too, right?” and Billy would facepalm cuz he planned on confessing in a much better way.

But hed agree and say he fell pretty damn hard for you, but neither rushes you in your decision as they know it’s a big step. I can imagine Stu also rambling about how hes always liked you since you were kids, even before you transitioned, and how he actually started liking you even more afterwards because you looked so much more comfortable with yourself and who you were.

At some point you would come to the conclusion that you felt the same way, and boom, now you got two boyfriends who like you for who you are, and would stab a bitch if they tried to disrespect you in any way, shape, or form.

When the ghostface killings happen, you wouldn’t be at the party since they are super overstimulating, but you would go to the hospital to check on Billy and Stu since they are the only “survivors”.

I thought it would be funny if you developed a special interest in the ghostface killers and started a fourth sketchbook filled with your notes and theories, but you would keep it hidden form Billy and Stu because you fear it would trigger their trauma, since you don’t know they are the killers.

The fourth sketchbook would also have rants you can’t put anywhere else, like how certain people have hatecrimed you because of your gender, or because you are “weird”, and how some dark sick part of your brain wants the ghostface killers to kill them.

At some point your boyfriends would find the sketchbook and go through it together, whistling as they see the detailed analysis made for each kill, and how you are so close to figuring it out. But when they read all the stuff you’ve written you never told them, it angers them that people have been hurting you without them knowing.

You wouldn’t have told them since you didn’t want to worry them, and it wasn’t their fight in your opinion. Billy and Stu decide that they have to pull out the masks once more, seems they have a couple of horrible people to get rid of for mistreating you.

Imagine your surprise when one night you walk into your room stimming with both your hands and repeating stuff that Billy and Stu said earlier that day, only to find not one, but two people wearing ghostface gear in your room.

It takes you a little too long to even spot them as you were scribbling in your death sketchbook, having gotten a sudden spark of inspiration on the way home from your apprenticeship as the local funeral home.

You almost get to scream before they pounce, never actually hurting you but clamping a hand over your mouth, their gloves wet with what you can smell is blood. After they make you promise to stay quiet, they unmask and reveal who they are.

You buffer like an old computer for a little too long, before smacking the shit out of both of them, wacking them in the chest for not telling you. Your opinion on death and murder are probably really twisted, and the people they’ve killed have either hurt you or you had no relationship with them.

It does light up every light in your hyperfixations though, and you might demand them to explain what killing someone is like, or what a freshly killed body looks like for your sketchbooks.

Billy would grin and try to kiss you, because how can you be so perfect? But you’d wave him off with a grimace and demand Stu explain once again what it was like stabbing someone so you can get it all down in your book.

I don’t know if youd join them as a third Ghostface, but they might take you along every now and then, letting you roam the place after they’ve done their thing if the chance is there. I could imagine them taking pictures of things for you too.

I’m imagining them both dressed up as ghostface, except no mask, both kissing at your cheeks and neck and being all lovey dovey and almost purring, whilst you are sketching down the different pictures and notes about them.

They love you so much, its insane. You’re gonna have them hanging on you for the rest of your life, sorry man, I don’t make the rules. Even if you move to another city and start studying to be a professor or like, investigator for the FBI, they would go with you. It would even help them in their Ghostface work as you are an expert in them not getting caught.

#male reader #slasher #ghostface #poly ghostface #stu macher #billy loomis #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher headcanon #slasher x male reader #ghostface x male reader #ghostface headcanon #ghostface imagine #ghostface x reader #poly ghostface x reader #poly ghostface x male reader #poly ghostface imagine #poly ghostface headcanon #stu macher headcanon #stu macher x reader #stu macher imagine #stu macher x male reader #billy loomis x male reader #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis imagine #stu macher x billy loomis x male reader #mention of gore tw?

[brother-emperors]

BROTHERS

The river Weser ran between the Roman and Cheruscan forces. Arminius came to the bank and halted with his fellow chieftains:— "Had the Caesar come?" he inquired.​ On receiving the reply that he was in presence, he asked to be allowed to speak with his brother. That brother, Flavus by name, was serving in the army, a conspicuous figure both from his loyalty and from the loss of an eye through a wound received some few years before during Tiberius' term of command. Leave was granted, and Stertinius took him down to the river. Walking forward, he was greeted by Arminius; who, dismissing his own escort, demanded that the archers posted along our side of the stream should be also withdrawn. When these had retired, he asked his brother, whence the disfigurement of his face? On being told the place and battle, he inquired what reward he had received. Flavus mentioned his increased pay, the chain, the crown, and other military decorations; Arminius scoffed at the cheap rewards of servitude.

They now began to argue from their opposite points of view. Flavus insisted on "Roman greatness, the power of the Caesar; the heavy penalties for the vanquished; the mercy always waiting for him who submitted himself. Even Arminius' wife and child were not treated as enemies." His brother urged "the sacred call of their country; their ancestral liberty; the gods of their German hearths; and their mother, who prayed, with himself, that he would not choose the title of renegade and traitor to his kindred, to the kindred of his wife, to the whole of his race in fact, before that of their liberator." From this point they drifted, little by little, into recriminations; and not even the intervening river would have prevented a duel, had not Stertinius run up and laid a restraining hand on Flavus, who in the fullness of his anger was calling for his weapons and his horse. On the other side Arminius was visible, shouting threats and challenging to battle: for he kept interjecting much in Latin, as he had seen service in the Roman camp as a captain of native auxiliaries.

Tacitus Annals 2.10-11

there's a lot going on in there! Arminius switching to Latin is a detail that always makes me feel a deep kind of sadness, especially with how it's preceded by mention of their mother. I wonder what she thought of what became of her sons, on opposite sides of everything but still, inescapably, brothers. even when they want to kill each other. there sure are a lot of fucked up and unhappy brothers around. and Arminius asking about Flavus' injury............I also had a whole thing typed out about the horror of imperialism and colonization and the trauma of assimilation but I think this sets the tone better

Rome's Greatest Defeat: Massacre in the Teutoburg Forest, Adrian Murdoch

and also this, just for fun

(ibid)

this post is already a mile long, so lets add another mile to it: a little scene at the start of their conversation! tfw you go in for a hug and your younger brother who also ended up being taller starts roasting your hair style

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app⭐ko-fi

#long post #SO LONG #roman empire tag #tbh im not jazzed about using that tag when rome is not actually the setting here but i do not have a good era tag for this yet #i'll figure it out later eurhghghesuerhgh #komiks tag #arminius & flavus #idk. maybe also #eye trauma cw #anyway it's all very 'he's my brother and i need a shovel to love him' kind of deal #this (wheezing) this is an idea i had LAST YEAR but it was a solo illustration #i had it posted for about ten minutes before i decided it sucked ass and needed to be revisited as a comic #FINALLY. the idea is complete. im free. it's been bothering me to have it unfinished while the original idea was haunting my drafts #as a reminder to get it done. and now i can delete it. au revoir illustration you will not be missed

[userlando]

✧･ﾟ 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

steve murphy x female!reader summary ⤍ work is piling on, bogotá is suffering from a heatwave and all you want is steve murphy. warnings ⤍ 18+ (mdni), co-workers to lovers, explicit language & smut, public sex, unprotected sex (piv) a/n ⤍ surprise surprise, of course i'd circle back to steve murphy some day. hope i made it justice. prob won't be the last i write of him since this was a lot of fun, so hope you enjoy this one lovies <3

It was brain meltingly hot in the office today, perspiration on your forehead and bra uncomfortably pinching your torso, to the point where it was almost antagonising you. It had been hot the moment you got out of bed this morning, and it hadn’t gotten any better throughout the day even though you’d opted to stay back in the office and work on the mountain of stacked papers that only seemed to grow by the hour on your desk.

You’d think that the heatwave would settle when people had begun to filter out, emptying the office space little by little. But the sun was still shining tauntingly through the windows and the floor fans were doing their best to keep up.

You glared at said fans, watching them spin round and round with the occasional squeal. A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against your chair, ignoring the discomfort of your shirt sticking to your back and reaching out for the nearest folder you could use to fan yourself with. The people in the office could really use an extra two swipes of deodorant and cut back on the cigarettes. The odours were starting to settle in your nose in the most unpleasant way and you didn’t know how much longer you could stand it.

It was clear that you weren’t going to get much work done anymore, but you’d be damned if you stepped foot outside the building with the sun still beating down on the city of Bogotá and you had a feeling that your apartment wasn’t much better than… this. It had too many large windows with afternoon sun.

Your freezer contained ice lollies though, something you’d craved all day. And your apartment offered you the liberty of wearing a long tank top with no pants and no bra. But it didn’t have Steve Murphy.

Steve Murphy, who was sitting across from you with his back leaned against his chair in a similar position to yours. He was reading from a folder, eyebrows tightly knit the way they always got when he was concentrating and you took a moment to silently admire the arch of his nose and the inviting pink of his lips. His hair had been styled halfheartedly in the morning, but it was now sticking up from running his fingers through it and the strand were clumped up together from the sweat and moisture in the air. Nobody made sweating look as good as Steve did. It should’ve pissed you off but it was a sight for sore eyes.

Your thoughts stuttered to a halt when he stuck a chewed up pen in his mouth and bit into it, looking a little annoyed all of a sudden and you knew he’d finally given up on making sense of the endless amount of scripts and documents you’d spent the last three days pouring through. Carrillo was truly a closeted sadist for assigning you so much work to go through in such little time.

There was a small clearing of a throat from the side and you glanced to the left, feeling like a kid who’d gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Javier wasn’t looking at you, but there was a small smile playing on his lips that let you know that he’d definitely caught you ogling the blond man sitting in front of you. You reached your leg out and kicked him in the shin, earning a startled yelp from him and a questioning glance from Steve.

“Sorry,” you said with no remorse in your voice. “Muscle spasm.”

Javier narrowed his eyes at you like he could see right through your bullshit, flicking a stack of papers on his desk before picking some new ones up to read through. You could’ve bet a few bucks that he wasn’t reading through them as intently as he had been two hours ago. His mind had already checked out for the day, as had yours. You couldn’t blame him.

The three of you worked in moderate silence and the occasional annoyed grunt and comment thrown into the air, for the next hour. The sun was finally starting to set, casting shadows in the moderately empty office but you were getting more agitated by the second.

The heat was getting to you and fucking Steve couldn’t stop chewing his lip and touching his neck.

It all took you back to that one godforsaken night a few weeks ago. You’d gone out with the two of them for a drink, and Javier had wandered off at some point; Mumbling something about getting laid. And he’d subsequently left the two of you alone at the bar with more drinks in your systems than necessary and sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

You’d sworn to never involve work and pleasure when you transferred to Colombia to work on catching the drug lord, and yet you’d found yourself pressed up against a wall in the far back of the bar and your tongue shoved down your partners throat. The taste of whiskey on his tongue had been intoxicating, everything about him had been irresistible. But it had been a one time thing, that’s where you set your boundary and Steve had respected it in his own way. He hadn’t tried anything with you, but there had been the occasional eye contact and suggestive comment. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t enjoy it just a tiny bit.

You must’ve started fidgeting in your chair because you caught Steve glancing up, not picking his head up from where it was slumped. The sight of him looking at you through his lashes made something in your stomach squirm.

“What?” You mouthed, biting the inside of your lip when his lips transformed into a smirk. It was like he could read your thoughts in your eyes. “Fucker.”

His smile got wider somehow, and he quickly managed to tamper it down when Javier suddenly sighed loudly. You both turned your gazed toward him, just in time to watch how he stood up from his chair and picked up a few folders.

“Need to make copies.” He explained, as if one of you had asked him. Javier didn’t need your permission though, nonchalantly grabbing his blazer and walking out of the room and you had a feeling that was the last you’d see of him for tonight.

You glanced back at Steve to catch him already staring at you, and you tried to not feel so self-conscious about the way your hair was probably a damp mess and your face sweaty. It looked good on Steve, but you couldn’t pull it off like he did.

“You done with that?” He asked, like you hadn’t been having a staring contest and you gave him a questioning arch of the eyebrows until he clarified by nodding at a folder by your arm.

“Have at it.” You sighed, handing it over to him before standing up from your chair.

It scraped against the floor and you glanced around to see if you’d disturbed anyone with the obnoxious sound. Aside from a few officers on the other side of the room, it was completely empty. And that made something redhot run through your blood.

You walked over to the water tank to fill your mug up with water cold enough to give you a brain freeze, thinking about maybe taking off and going home. Javier had once again left you alone with Murphy, and the heat was melting the last of your common sense.

There had been one close call where Carrillo had paired you and Steve together for a stakeout; monitoring a warehouse on the outskirts for any signs of drug transportations, but you’d smoothly gotten out of it and had Peña jump in instead. There was no telling what would happen if they put you and Steve in a car during the night with nothing but the two of you to keep each other company.

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t been friends before the bar incident, it was quite the opposite. Being a woman in this field was tough, but Steve had - along with Javi - welcomed you like his own surprisingly quickly.

There were only so many times you could carpool and watch a shitty movie cuddled up on the couch before you started treading over dangerous water. A phone call home didn’t bring you the same comfort as greasy food on the couch after a long day of chasing ghosts and criminals. It was easy to feel homesick when alone, so it was a good thing that you had your partners a few doors down if you ever needed them.

“It’s way too fucking hot to work.” Steve complained and you gave a laugh with a nod. He flicked the papers onto the desk and leaned all the way back on his chair and you took that as a sign that he - much like you - was done with work.

You rounded the corner of the desk and tried not stare too hard at his arms when he reached up to rest his hands on the back of his head. His biceps were bulging a little too invitingly, and you had to shake yourself as you perched on the edge of his desk. There was no mistaking his wandering gaze as he slowly looked up your legs, to your upper body until he reached your eyes and you raised your eyebrows to show him that you’d caught him looking.

He didn’t seem too embarrassed though, judging by the slow smile forming on his face.

“Might be time to call it for tonight.” You said, glancing around the half-empty office. “Not like we’re gonna make any more progress than we’ve done today.”

Steve made a sound in his throat like he agreed with your sentiment, happily accepting the mug of water when you handed it to him. You watched him take a sip, throat bobbing as he swallowed and you suddenly felt a little too hot under your clothes.

“D’you wanna head over to mine? Grab a beer and just kick back.” He asked, glancing up at you and you nodded slowly.

“Sure.” You watched him stand up, shuffling papers and folders around in a poor attempt to organise his desk before giving up and reaching for a packet of cigarettes. He stuck one between his teeth and lit it up. “Do you think Javi will be back?”

Steve looked at you with an are you serious? look, and you tried not to think about how hot he looked with a cigarette hanging from between his lips. Cocky looked so good on him.

“You’re lucky if you see him any more today.” He replied, grabbing his jacket and pushing in his chair.

You made a sound of agreement and walked around the desk, picking your bag up and showing a few folders inside it before the both of you were set to go home.

It couldn’t have been in your head, the tension in the air as the both of you walked out of the office. It felt like you were barely hanging onto a thread and it seemed to grow even thinner when the blond man touched your waist as he let you pass by him first through a doorway.

The two of you locked eyes for a split second and that confirmed everything that you needed to know. And that’s what you used as an excuse as your eyes flickered back and forth until you found a door that you knew lead to a documentation room, not hesitating for a split second as you reached your hand back and blindly grabbed Steve’s hand in yours.

He let you lead him way too easily, your hand shaking a little as you turned the doorknob and pushed the door open. And that’s when Steve took over, putting more of his body weight on your back to help you get into the room faster. You didn’t think of how unethical it was, or how it was such a bad idea to hook up once again with your partner at your workplace, of all places.

You didn’t even think of how absolutely stifling it was in the small room, too focused on the way Steve was staring you down like a predator eyeing it’s prey. He closed the door and turned the lock without taking his eyes off of you, and it was dark but not dark enough for you to miss the smirk playing on his lips as he walked you backwards.

You reached your hands out to grab at his disheveled tie, yanking hard enough for a breath to escape his lips before you settled your mouth over his in a heated kiss. There was a loud bang as he placed a hand flat against the metal drawers by your head to keep himself from stumbling into you, a moan creeping its way up his throat and you revelled in the taste of his tongue.

It was warm inside, suffocating really, but you needed more. You needed him closer and on you. He didn’t have any problems with complying when you snuck an arm around his torso and had the other one grab at his hair, turning your head slightly so he could lick deeper into your mouth.

You could taste the coffee he’d been sipping on a few hours ago and smell his aftershave that transported you back to that night at the bar where you’d been in a position just like this. He slid his mouth down your cheek, jaw and pressed sucking kisses and licks against the side of your throat. It was hard to stay still when the sharpness of his moustache hairs pricked and scratched your sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, always smell so good, baby.” He was panting, and so were you.

There was no doubt that he could feel your heart beating in your throat, right under his lips where he was definitely sucking a mark that wasn’t gonna fade within the next week. It should’ve made you furious, because that meant scarves and long collars in this unbearable weather but it only made you keen and pull him in closer. The thought of him marking you up for your co-workers to see, for Javier to give off that infuriatingly smug grin and for Steve to proudly parade around; Knowing he did that.

You were a proud woman, having worked your ass off to get where you were today and you’d be damned if you were to be seen as someone other than their own person. But something about fooling around with Steve; Breaking the obvious unspoken rule that wasn’t really a rule. Not really. Rules were hardly a thing to follow within these walls if they weren’t reinforced by the colonel himself.

“Steve, you better fuck me now or I’ll scream.” You tried to sound threatening, but your voice sounded too breathy and it only made Steve laugh like he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

“So needy,” he whispered, pulling his head up to look at you and you reached forward to steal a kiss from his lips that he was all too happy to give. Hearing and feeling him sigh happily against you made your stomach feel like it was bottoming out, all the feelings you’d been trying to hold in, spilling out.

He brought his hands to the front of your torso, squeezing at the swell of your tits over your shirt and sliding his hands down your quivering stomach until he got to the button of your jeans, letting out a noise of frustration. You watched him unbutton your jeans with a smile, taking your chance to grab at his messy hair and tilt his head to the side so you could kiss the delicate skin of his neck.

You didn’t see it, but you could feel his hands falter where they were struggling to unbutton your jeans, his head throwing back for a few seconds like he was trying to catch his breath and collect his thoughts. You could’ve taken mercy on him and help him get you out of your pants, but it was a little too enjoyable for you to kiss and nibble at his throat and earlobe. You’d only hooked up twice now, but it didn’t take a genius to find his sweet spot seeing as it was right beneath his ear.

“Couldn’t have worn a damn skirt.” You heard him mutter as he crouched and you grinned.

“Not very —“

“Practical. Yeah, I know. So you’ve said.” You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could hear the eye roll in his voice and it made you smile even harder. Steve could be an asshole, but you’d be damned liar if you said that he wasn’t a good listener.

He finally pulled back and yanked your jeans down your legs, crouching down to help you out of them, one leg at a time. You ran your fingers through his hair and almost recoiled when he glanced up at you from his crouched position; Caught off-guard by the softness in them. The blue of his eyes made something fierce squeeze in your chest and you let out a small whimper when he leaned forward to press a gentle kiss between your legs, over your panties.

You watched him kiss his way up, and it felt like coming home when he finally reached your lips and pried then open with his own. There was no doubt that the man could kiss, and you loved every second of it.

It made you jump a little when he pulled your panties to the side, the pads of his fingers swiping through the mess that he’d created. He let out a shuddered breath against your lips and rocked back just far enough to look at you without the both of you going crosseyed.

“I don’t have a condom on me.” He murmured, and if you’d looked hard enough then you would’ve seen remorse in the blue of his eyes.

You tried to collect your thoughts but it was difficult when his fingers were circling your clit. Your hands grabbed at his shirt, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you ripped a hole in it.

“I’m on the pill,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up a little as his eyebrows climbed on his forehead. “And I’m clean. I trust you.”

He searched your eyes for a moment, and it would’ve almost been tender if it wasn’t for the fact that he got two fingers up your cunt and was fucking into you like he was testing out how wet you were.

It felt like an eternity when he finally nodded, offering you a small smile and a quick kiss.

“I’m clean too.” He pushed his fingers deep, making you gasp and buck into him. “And there hasn’t been anyone else after you. Or even before you.”

The implication was there, and you revelled in his confession because those had been thoughts that had been plaguing you for a hot moment. Javi had his line of women to call and you didn’t know if that was the case for Steve. You spent a lot of time together outside of work, but there were still gaps in time where he could’ve hooked up with whomever he pleased. This job was hard and it put a whole lot of pressure on your shoulders, so much so that the average person would cave from it. It was only normal to seek basic human intimacy and lose yourself in it, even if it was only for a night or an hour.

It made your belly turn a little sour whenever you thought of it, you just didn’t want to admit it out loud because that would somehow make it seem real. Make your feelings for him real. You weren’t sure what that meant.

Crossing the line with your partner a second time went against everything you’d believed in. You never wanted to get involved with anyone like this because your work was dangerous enough, add a person you cared for into the mix and it made it even more terrifying.

“Hey, you with me?” Steve’s gentle voice brought you back from your inner turmoil and you blinked at him, giving him a nod.

“Yeah, I’m here.” You replied, giving him a small smile when his lips turned up in reassurance. “Come on, I’m ready. Fuck me please, Steve.”

Steve groaned like he’d never heard anything sweeter, pulling his fingers out and bringing them up between you. He didn’t even hesitate to slip his digits inside his mouth to clean them off and you felt your entire body heat up at the crude sight. It reminded you of all the nights where you’d go out to grab a bite after work and he’d be licking his fingers clean from frying oil and grease. You’d found it a turn on then, and it certainly was a turn on now.

“You’re an asshole.” You giggled at the filthy smile playing on his lips, getting your hands on his trousers and unbuttoning them.

You glanced between the two of you and stuck your hand inside his underwear to fish him out, heartbeat picking up at the weight and warmth of him in your hands. You could hear him breathing against the side of your head, pressing his lips against your temple and making a piss poor attempt of stifling his moan when you got a good grip on him and slid your hand to the base.

“Feel so good in my hand, Steve.” You hummed, closing your eyes and marvelling in the press of his body when his hand started giving out to the weight. He was moaning quietly into your ear, voice rough and raspy as you jacked him off. “Can’t wait to feel it inside of me.”

He hummed out a drawn out groan, bending a little at the knees to get a good grip on your right thigh and hauling it up over his hip. The new angle allowed him to nudge against you and you gasped, leaning into it.

You were too busy looking between the two of you, and you didn’t register his other hand sliding up to cup your cheek until you were staring right into his eyes in the darkness. He was observing you, you realised. The moment felt a little too intimate to have in a decrepit room after office hours, but you didn’t dare to look away from his gaze.

His thumb ran over the bottom of your lip. “You okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile, nodding your head to show him that yeah, of course you’re okay.

“I’m more than okay. Now, come on before the janitor makes his rounds.” You urged him, earning a startled laugh from the man.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, gripping himself and leaning a little more of his weight against you so he could notch right against your hole.

Your eyes fluttered closed when he pressed in, feeling him filling you up quicker than you expected but there was something about the burn that made you want more. So you didn’t protest, only gripping his shoulders tighter until he bottomed out.

Steve was watching your face the entire time, eyes struggling to stay open because fuck, the heat and the tightness of you gripping him made him feel like he’d died and entered the pearly gates of whatever heaven existed. The small hitches in your breathing was like music to him, and he longed for the day he could get you in his bed and fuck you properly until he had you moaning without the fear of being caught.

You were a loud one, that’s what he’d garnered from the one occasion you’d hooked up. But you were still holding back and he could tell by the way you gnawed at your lips and bit incomplete circles into his shoulders that did fuck all to silence your pretty sounds.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He murmured in encouragement when he started thrusting, hips meeting yours in the awkward angle but he knew he was hitting something good and deep inside of you. It was written all over your face. “Clenchin’ up so nicely around me. What a pretty sight you are.”

“Steve.” You moaned, treading your fingers in the strands of his damp hair and bringing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss.

It was all teeth and tongue, noses bumping and teeth knocking but it made you weak in the knees all the same. You indulged yourself for a few moments, letting yourself get lost in his taste and touch before breaking the kiss, leaning your forehead against his and watching him through blurry eyes as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Seeing Steve lost in the feeling, hips working against yours and arms grabbing at you to keep you steady and hold you close was a marvel to see. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get tired of the little pinched expression on his face when something felt particularly good for him; How his mouth would drop open into a little O and his eyebrows would draw together. Kind of like how they did when he’d sit across from you at your desks while he struggled to read Spanish.

Your stomach was knotting up, the telltale sign of your end nearing and you let go of his shoulder with one hand to shove it between your bodies and hook your hand into your panties.

The touch of your fingers against your clit made you clench, which made Steve’s thrust stutter and his breath get punched out of him.

“Keep going,” he encouraged you, nodding his head and jostling your head in the process form where it was leaned against his. “Touch yourself for me, wanna feel you come.”

It was cliché, and ridiculous how fast you neared the edge of oblivion at the whispered words he was speaking against your mouth. They sounded so demanding, breathless and absolutely filthy.

There was a second of desperation where the two of you clung to each other, his hips bruising yours and his hands no doubt leaving marks as he pulled you tight to his body. Your hand cramped up and you had just enough time to lean toward his shoulder and bite down before you were sent over the edge with a muffled shout.

You heard a distinct guttural moan, and you couldn’t tell if it was coming from you or Steve thanks to the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. But you could absolutely feel how he buried himself inside of you and let himself go, your already sensitive body shaking where it was slumped against his.

There was no telling who was holding up who, but you suspected that he was doing the brunt of the work because you couldn’t feel your fucking legs and your mouth was still open against his shoulder. You picked your head up when your senses slowly started seeking back into your body, making a sound in your throat when you realised that you’d been drooling.

Steve tilted his head to the side at the noise, gaze following yours and he let out an exhausted laugh.

“Is it weird if I find that hot?” He asked, voice hoarse and low and you laughed.

“Shut up,” you winced as he slowly let your leg back down on the grimy floor, slipping out of you in the process. “Oh, gross.”

Steve snorted, cupping a hand against your cheek and pressing a kiss against the side of your head. You bit back a smile at the tender gesture, busying yourself with adjusting your underwear so you didn’t have to look at him.

He didn’t say anything as the both of you got cleaned up as best you could, redressing yourselves and you didn’t want to chance a glance at him just yet. You didn’t know what you’d find written on his face; whatever emotion or expression it would hold. You weren’t quite ready to face it just yet.

You watched his back as he walked up to the door, eyebrows raising in amusement when he cracked the door open and peeked outside into the hallway. He must’ve deemed it clear, because he slid it open and stepped to the side, reaching a hand out to gesture you to get a move on.

You didn’t waste any time to slip back outside again, the hallway feeling much cooler than the stifling confines of the documentation room. There was nothing you craved more than a shower at that moment, feeling sticky all over. And the fact that you were absolutely ruining what was left to salvage of your underwear.

“Are we still on for that beer?” Steve asked, distracting you from your wandering thoughts and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye.

His hair was looking worse for wear, cheeks flushed and lips bitten raw and pink. There was no way that anyone could take a look at you and not think that you’d been screwing each others brains out. You almost feared looking in a mirror, afraid of what you’d find in terms of marks and scratches.

“I hope you have some at your place because all I have is milk.” You replied, earning a small shoulder bump from the man next to you.

“I’ve got you.” He opened the door leading the way out to the street. “Besides, I’ve got better fans in my apartment.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Yours was only days away from falling apart into pieces. You just hoped that yours wouldn’t break down tonight when this heatwave was still active and raging. You’d actually cry.

Steve unlocked his door and opened the passenger door for you, regarding you with a look in his eyes that made you stop in your tracks.

“What?”

“Would you wanna stay over tonight?” He asked, forehead wrinkling and your eyebrows raised.

He looked almost nervous. Uncertain. Like he didn’t know whether you were going to blow him off or take him up on his offer. It made you pause as you searched his face, and you didn’t know why you suddenly felt an overwhelming rush of adoration but it made your knees shake a little.

“You mean sleep in your bed?” You asked, voice lilting into a teasing tone and it made Steve smirk.

You watched him tilt his head back and forth, as if he was unsure but the smile on his lips was playful and it made you feel a little giddy.

“Amongst other things.” He replied and you laughed.

“Scandalous.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, tongue in cheek as he struggled to refrain from smiling too big. You turned and started to climb into his truck, the sound of a loud smack making you let out a loud yelp. You didn’t even register the slight pain in your asscheeks until you’d turned fully and sat down on the seat; Realising that he’d just slapped you.

“You’re a sleaze, y’know that?” You glared at him, but Steve only grinned like he was proud of himself.

He pushed the door open even wider and crowded your space, sliding his hands up your cheeks to cup them and bring your face to his. You blinked up at him, a little breathless at the sight of his blue eyes so close up to yours.

“You still like me, don’t you?” He murmured, corner of his lips tugging and you couldn’t help but press a kiss against it; Watching it transform into a smile.

“Just a little.” You lied, earning a longer kiss from him.

“I’ll take that.”

#narcos #steve murphy #steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x you #steve murphy smut #steve murphy one shot #steve murphy fic #steve murphy imagine #narcos smut #narcos series #narcos fanfiction

[pseudokap]

Family Reunion My second artwork for the Apotheosis Zine! (account here) (art rambling + mild apotheosis spoilers below)

(i wrote this out on a google doc) Ohohoho i have a lot to say for this piece! It’s is inspired by the fight between Thanatos and his siblings: Yuri, Arboth (on the left) and Ranar (on the right) from episode 9 I took inspiration from the painting that saved Yuri, which was described as depicting a lone sunflower on a hill. The composition frames Yuri as the sunflower itself with the orange rectangle representing the frame of a painting. The sunflower shape circles her head like a halo (because holy family y’know). There are also petal-like patterns in her hair, which I thought looked nice. Also the sunflower forms the pupil of an eye, which can be interpreted as either Exandroth (and his sort of familial relation to Thanny as his creator) or the other gods Arboth and Ranar’s eyes are red, for possession by the blights. Or something. Also Yuri is crying because, well I’d be sad if I had to fight my brother because I got possessed by a god. There really was still a part of her in there, even if she was just a vessel. I took some creative liberties on my Thanatos design because it looked cool and I also couldn’t figure out some of his armor in the official design:( well, the armor has feather-like components now. I guess. Everything is scratched because he’s fought A Lot and there’s no way the armor is Not Absolutely Wrecked to an extent. I actually had a ton of fun shading his armor! Other neat things: - The contrast of the holy family’s white clothing (typically representing good) vs Thanatos’s black armor (typically representing evil). Obviously Thanatos is one of the protagonists in this story, so in this case we’re going against the “typical” - Pure white is only used in Thanatos and Yuri’s eyes, intended to draw attention to their faces I’m very happy with this piece, especially Thanatos’s armor and axe! There’s a lot of ways to interpret this and parts that I can’t find the words to explain.

#jrwi #jrwi fanart #my art #pseudokart #thanatos jrwi #jrwi apotheosis #i think this piece is what made me enjoy shading armor much more #the brothers are kind of elden ring inspired. maybe i'll do a full reference for them one day #just roll with it #listened to heavy metal while drawing this one. it helped a lot

[yyunari]

ANTON 01. 🐇﹕ꕤ﹔ FALLING BEHIND

Growing up rather shy, Anton found himself falling behind in the love department. Perhaps all it would take was joining the Glee Club for him to finally make progress in his love life.

⌇＃GENRE ◠﹒glee au + fluff + angst + love at first sight + anton is down bad LMAO＃PAIRING ◠﹒anton lee x fem! reader ＃WARNINGS ◠﹒none?

Anton stared at the white heart imprinted onto his latte. His face was emotionless but if you looked close enough, perhaps you could see the intrigue swirling in his eyes.

Some people would say it’s just a random design. But to Anton, it sort of felt like more than that. It felt like a sign from the universe that love would slap him in the face soon enough.

But how silly was that? He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help but hope. After all 18 years of his life with no romantic interactions whatsoever, he felt that he was falling behind. To him, it was upsetting. All his friends had partners at least once in their lives before, so what was wrong with him? What was it about Anton that was so undesirable that he couldn’t get a girlfriend for the life of him?

As Anton stirred the ivory tint of the drink, he frowned. Perhaps he was never meant to be loved. Perhaps his shyness was an indicator that he would never find love.

The more that he thought about it the white foam swirled around the cup until it became to unrecognizable and blended into one large mess.

He then looked up to the man in front of him with a judging expression, and scoffed.

“You want me to what?”

“Join the Glee Club, Anton.” Mr. Jeon pleaded the boy. “We need more guys, and you have a really nice voice.”

The idea made him laugh a bit. Anton? Apart of the Glee Club? Mr. Jeon wanted him to do show choir? He was the quarterback of the football team. If he joined a club that no one respected, especially for guys like him, he would have even lower a chance of getting a girlfriend. He would probably even be shunned by his own teammates.

Besides, performing was a little too much for him. Of course he enjoyed singing, that’s why Mr. Jeon found out he could sing in the first place (he had overheard Anton singing to himself in the shower after football practice). But he could never see himself performing on stage for people to see. Being on the football team gave him some unwanted spotlight, but most of the time he was wearing his football gear so people couldn’t exactly see his face most of the time. If he were to be performing, he would have to dress up and have bright lights shining down on him.

It made him too nauseous to think about.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jeon, but I don’t think I would be able to…” Anton started. “With football and everything.”

Mr. Jeon handed him a piece of paper. “Don’t worry, I took the liberty of making sure rehearsals didn’t clash with your football practices. I also asked your coach if it was alright that I scouted you, and he gave me the green light.”

The man was right. Every rehearsal from then until the end of the year was perfectly planned so that he would have enough time to do both. It was quite scary, actually. Perhaps Mr. Jeon was scarier than he had let on.

“I don’t want to force you to do it if you really don’t want to,” Mr Jeon continued. “But please think about it. We have a lot of fun in rehearsals and I think you would get along with everyone! I know you love singing, and I think Glee would really help you showcase your abilities.”

“With all due respect, I don’t think people would see me the same way if I joined a club like Glee.” Anton wasn’t one to lie, and he wasn’t sure if the teacher was aware of how the general student population viewed Glee.

Mr. Jeon chuckled at what he said. “I know that Glee isn’t generally seen in a positive light to you guys, but I don’t think that should matter.”
“What do you mean?” Anton asked, curious to what he was talking about.

“Why don’t you come to our next rehearsal?” Mr Jeon said. “When you see these kids sing, I think you’ll change your mind.”

Anton didn’t doubt that they were talented, but he wasn’t sure how seeing them sing could make him change his mind. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll give you detention if you don’t.”

What Anton forgot was that at the end of the day, Mr. Jeon still had a position of power over him.

Room 201.

Anton stared at the instructions that Mr. Jeon had sent to him, and sighed. He really didn’t want to watch Glee practice. However, his need to not get detention was much higher. It would put a stain on his perfect record, and he didn’t need that.

Begrudgingly, he begun to make his way towards the room. The time read 3:25 which gave him 5 minutes to get to the room before he was late.

Anton discreetly walked over to Room 201 while avoiding the stares of his teammates, as he knew they wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Perhaps he cared a little too much of what the people around him thought.

But with his shy persona, he really didn’t want to be shunned from his friends. He didn’t want girls to judge him. He had enough time talking to people as it was, he didn’t need that extra judgement.

Anton didn’t care about being popular or having a lot of friends. He just wanted to have people by his side.

As he neared the Glee room, he contemplated on just turning back and taking the detention. After all, one infraction on his record couldn’t be too bad right? Especially after so long of getting perfect grades and perfect attendance, as well as his status of the quarterback. Colleges would be able to look past one measly detention.

He really didn’t want to go there.

“Kiss today, goodbye. The sweetness and the sorrow.”

…

What was that voice?

Who was it?

“Wish me luck the same to you.”

Once Anton was by the door, he could hear the voice more clearly.

“But I won’t regret, what I did for love. What I did for love.”

He peered through the glass to see just who was singing, and his jaw dropped.

“Look my eyes are dry”

Y/N L/N.

He had always heard that name uttered throughout the hallways and ridiculed by his football teammates. Oftentimes, people would describe her as annoying, stuck up, and ugly. Girls would laugh at her put together appearance and guys would make fun of her body shape. Although Anton never saw anything inherently wrong with the girl, the entire student body was under the impression was that she was the devil.

“The gift was ours to borrow.”

One thing that everyone knew about Y/N, and was a fact even she would agree upon, was that the girl was a born performer. She made it abundantly clear that her dreams were to become a Broadway performer, and that she would stop at nothing to reach that goal.

There was one occasion during French class that he shared with her that Y/N got into an argument with the teacher because she wanted to leave for an audition, and the teacher didn’t let her. In the end, Y/N ended up storming out of the classroom anyways.

At the time, Anton thought it amusing.

“Oh it’s as if we always knew, and I won’t forget.”

Anton had read once on Y/N’s blog that she was immediately trained to sing from the moment she was born and put into acting classes. So he knew that she had talent.

“What I did for love, what I did for love.”

But as Anton stared at Y/N, who stood alone practicing in the empty rehearsal room, he felt something ignite inside him.

Despite knowing that the girl had the talent, he never actually saw her singing. She wasn’t just good at singing in the way that people were usually good at singing.

Y/N’s voice could only be described as one dipped in honey. It was too sweet to be real, and Anton even pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Gone, love is never gone.”

It was weird. Before that point, Y/N was never someone he would think about. In fact, she only ever crossed his mind if she was forced there. Even if she had passed by him in the hallways, he would barely give her a second glance.

Seeing her in such a state, with the light perfectly reflecting off of the windows and casting an angelic aura onto her face, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“As we travel on, love’s what we’ll remember.”

Something that Anton was sure of, once seeing Y/N in her true element, was that Y/N L/N wasn’t just a born performer.

She was born to be a star.

He couldn’t help but wonder, maybe one day he could have that same level of confidence that Y/N had.

The way she carried herself with such grace and assertiveness attracted him. Anton was the complete opposite. He was shy, lanky, and often slouched down on himself.

But Y/N wasn’t like that. She knew her worth, and didn’t back down from anything.

Anton continued to listen to Y/N sing her song, with stars in his eyes and his mouth left slightly agape.

He wasn’t sure of the feeling that he felt in his heart, but he did know one thing.

Anton wanted to be apart of Y/N’s life. He wanted to hear her angelic voice, and see her beautiful face everyday. He wanted to be apart of her world because he found it quite wonderful.
A girl shunned by the entire school, often discredited and regarded as undesirable, who was made to be apart of something more.

Anton wanted to know more about her.

“Great job, Y/N! I didn’t want to interrupt so I waited outside the room.” Mr. Jeon had walked into the room from the door on the opposite end of where Anton was. “You sound amazing, as always. I definitely chose right when I chose to give you the solo.”

Anton could see Y/N get smirk at the compliment. “I knew you would come to your senses. This song is perfect for my voice, after all.”

To most, she would come off as cocky and unbearable. And to most she was.

But for Anton, he saw it in a different way. Most people were just too insecure about themselves to be able to admit when they’re good at something. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. However, Y/N knew that she was talented enough to become something. There was nothing wrong in vocalizing that.

And Anton admired that aspect of Y/N.

“The others should be coming soon. I assume they’re all getting a quick snack since I moved the rehearsal time.”

So that’s why Y/N was practicing alone. Anton wondered why no one was there despite it being well past 3:30.

That face made Anton more attracted to her. Y/N already knew she was good enough to get any part, yet she still took time to herself to practice. And she practiced well.

A burning desire filled Anton’s heart as he pushed open the door.

“Oh, Anton! You’re a bit early. I for-“

“I want to join Glee.” Anton rushed his words, before he could chicken out. And suddenly, he turned his head and made eye contact with Y/N. He could feel all his confidence drain in that moment, as she kept her stare on him as if she were judging him. Anton forgot his tendency to be shy. “I-If the offer is still standing, I mean.”

Mr. Jeon clapped his hands once. “That’s great news! What made you change your mind?”

Anton kept his eyes on Y/N, who was also waiting for his answer.

There were multiple reasons he could think of, but one reason stood out amongst the others.

“I saw an angel.” Was all Anton could admit.

He sounded crazy, and neither Y/N nor Mr. Jeon could figure out what he was talking about, but that didn’t matter. Both were just glad there would be another guy in Glee.

“Well, we need another male lead for one of our performances so you and Y/N can lead ‘No Air’ together.” Mr. Jeon instructed. “Does that work for you?”

Y/N slowly made her way to Anton, and he felt the air in his lungs phase out.

“I don’t know, will you be able to keep up with me? I’m kind of difficult.” She challenged.

Anton mustered up what little confidence he had left in his body, and leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I like difficult.”

Anton was falling behind in the love department, and he needed to catch up. Maybe the latte design from the day before was a sign that he would fall in love. It had seemed to coincidental to not be true.

After crossing Y/N’s path in such a way, he knew that he would have to pursue her as much as he could. He had never fallen for someone so strongly before. But he knew that Y/N was the one he had been waiting for.

In a way, they were sort of one in the same. Both seemingly too undesirable to get into relationships. That idea comforted him.

Anton was falling behind, but for Y/N he would put all of his effort to catch up. Even if it meant disregarding his social status or mockery from his friends.

Y/N was worth the effort.

authors note. first riize fic!!! i love riize sm and anton is soooooo falling behind coded ugh i adore him also yay glee

permanent taglist. @muhwaa @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm @teddywonss @gweoriz @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @kivrio @kaykay11sworld @itsactuallylina

#riize x reader #anton x reader #anton lee #riize x you #riize x imagine #riize anton #riize fluff #anton fluff #lee anton #anton riize #riize imagines #riize #riize oneshots

[fangswbenefits]

getting this off my chest

I really, really love writing for this fandom.

I think I haven't felt like this in years.

Astarion is such an enticing vessel for my creativity and has rekindled my joy for writing and putting it out there.

Alas, imposter syndrome really gnaws at my nerves more often than I care to admit.

"But Ruby, you have so many people who like your work. Why do you doubt yourself?"

Because I grew up being told I was never enough. That I was the worst at what I did best, which back then was learning English and surrounding myself in the language, hence why I sought comfort in fanfiction.

My sister, whom I love dearly, is an English teacher. She would be so harsh on me, and I know she meant well. She really did. But it was so hard back then. I would come to her with creative writing in English and she would just roll her eyes and tell me I wasn't good enough.

Nowadays, she acknowledges that I am more proficient than her and more at ease with the language, and even tells my nephew to study English with me instead.

But back then, I needed someone to believe I could do better.

So, there is a part of me that is proud that I am able to deal with real-life fatigue by writing and finding enjoyment in this hobby. But a much darker part of me tells me I'm not worthy and that I simply got lucky.

The Arrangement means a lot to me. I tend to dive right into fandoms and start writing for the character that caught my eye.

But I couldn't do that for Astarion... I am still unsure why. For those of you who have been here from my Miguel O'Hara days or when I first started posting about Astarion, you'll know The Arrangement was the first thing I ever posted for him.

Took me 2 weeks to get the first chapter out because I kept thinking I couldn't find a voice for Astarion. One that felt like him. After all, I'm always a step behind because I am not a native speaker. There will always be that looming feeling that I can't convey this story properly.

Even if you now know me for my Astarion smut, that wasn't even the driving force of my love for him.

It took me 2 months to feel comfortable writing smut for him. Why? I don't even know.

But The Arrangement feels different.

I love writing it and I love taking my liberties with the plot.

It's my opportunity to fully showcase my love for him.

I know not everyone likes it. I know some of you have dropped it. Some of you will drop it. But some will walk along this path with me, and I can't stress enough how your feedback and love help keep these negative thoughts at bay.

It's an internal work, though. It is not your job to validate my writing skills. This is not what puts food on my table. I am not looking to be published. I am looking for an escape. And it's so frustrating when my mind tries to rob me of joy even when it comes to a hobby.

"If this is a hobby why does it matter what others think or if they like what you write? Just have fun. Write for yourself."

And I do write for myself, but I share my work because I am hopeful my words can make someone's day. I seek that connection I never had growing up. Perhaps it sounds silly, but it's what makes the most sense in my head.

The Arrangement should be my pride and joy even if not perfect (nothing ever is, I suppose). And I'm exhausted of not feeling proud of it. I'm tired of this vicious cycle of self-doubt.

Don't get me wrong. I love writing smut. I think that's what I'm best at (well, in my opinion). I love exploring Astarion this way, too, but...

I don't know where I'm going with this... if anyone has made it this far, thank you, and sorry for the word vomit...

#ruby rambles ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾