Astarborntowrite - Born To Write - Tumblr Blog

TEAM GREENS WILL LOVE THIS FANFIC 💚🐉

I loved this one shot it was super cute HAIL KING AEMOND AND QUEEN Y/n 💪🏻

(tho i am very much team 🖤😉)

Bound. (a.t)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Fem!Reader (minor oc descriptions)

Summary: you didn't realize when you stood beside aemond during the night when he lost his eye would solidify your stance in the war.

Warnings: death, murder, angst, fluff between aemond and reader, betrothals, incestual relationship uncle/niece, little family drama (UNEDITED)

a/n: i wanted to get this out before i watched episode ten later. which will determine whether or not i write a part two to this. so no guarantees as this can be a stand-alone!

word count: 5.5k

all translations of high valyrian come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

It was always a deep regret in your heart that you could do anything to save his eye during the fight. He never held any resentment towards you though as you stood by your place to his side. You could never fight against your siblings, and Aemond knew that. Though he continued to taunt them, you stood quietly next to him not meeting anyone’s eye. 

You could recall that night so vividly. The chaos of everything. The questioning of who was right and who was wrong. Trying to decide whether you made the right choice of standing next to your betrothed in his defense. Your family might hate you now, but you got a family out of it in more ways than one.

FLASHBACK

“Aemond, this is worrying to me,” you expressed your concern as you both made your way toward Vhagar to see if Aemond could claim her.

She was a free dragon as of the death of your Aunt/Stepmother Lady Laena Velaryon, and no one has yet to take claim of her more so bond with her. You knew that your half-sister would be furious at the revelation that Aemond was to be the next rider of Vhagar. In all honesty in your mind, it was her fault thinking no one would want to claim the most powerful/largest dragon in the realm. 

You knew that you were the creation of an affair between your mother Rhaenyra and your biological father Daemon. Everyone knew you were with your hair being as bright as snow and bold violet eyes with your fair complexion. Though you were legitimized by the King himself, so no one dared ever call you a bastard to your face. 

Ser Laenor was also your father who raised you and brought you up. You loved him as a father and knew how hard his sister’s death hurt him. You two would visit them on dragon back with Seasmoke and Silverwing allowing you to get to know your biological father and half-sisters. Daemon had a hard way to show that he cared for someone, but you were his jewel. 

He would teach you more complex High Valyrian and teach you about your ancestors. Always telling you that it was important for you to me in the knowledge of those before you when you were to take the throne. Which made Baela and Rhaena envious of the favoring of their father towards you. 

Though Daemon cared for you as his daughter when you visited him, he did not pay any mind to you outside of it. Always so hot and cold. Never allowing himself to get too attached to anyone. Making you more in favor of your stepfather Laenor. Who taught you how to swim on the shores of Driftmark, unbraided your hair before saying goodnight, taught you the basics of bonding with a dragon, and took you on rides with Seasmoke when you were too little to ride Silverwing. 

“There is nothing to worry about, and I would never let anything happen to you,” Aemond reassured you taking your hand as the two of you got closer to Vhagar.

“Aemond be careful, I will not lose my betrothed over a dragon claim,” you squeezed his hand before letting go allowing him to approach the large she-dragon.

“Dohaeras! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Lykiri! Lykiri!” Aemond shouted to the dragon as Vhagar growled in his presence. (Serve! Serve, Vhagar! Calm down!) “Lykiri.” 

You watched in anticipation, scared for Aemond’s life. To your relief, Vhagar seemed to be accepting Aemond as she allowed him to climb to her back. 

“Soves! Dohaeras, Vhagar! Soves!” he yelled out commands to the dragon. (Fly! Serve, Vhagar! Fly!)

As Vhagar and Aemond took flight, you waited for his return watching the beautiful dragon’s wings spread amongst the sky. It seemed like an eternity before you saw them rearing back to where you awaited. Vhagar landed with a loud grunt letting Aemond climb back down on her wing. 

“I knew you were always meant for amazing things,” you admitted to Aemond as continued to bond with Vhagar. He put his forehead to rest against the dragon’s cheek.

“Come here.”

“Aemond, you must be joking,” you nervously let out, staying in your place.

“Come here, love. She won’t hurt you, I promise,” Aemond said as he reached out his hand to you, beckoning you to come closer. 

“Rytsas, Vhagar,” you greeted the dragon, taking Aemond’s hand, and staying close to his side. (Hello, Vhagar) 

Aemond took your hand in his grasp and laid your palm against Vhagar’s cheek which radiated heat. Vhagar purred at the attention both you and Aemond were giving her. You enjoyed this moment shared between the three of you. You leaned your head against Aemond’s shoulder looking up at him as he relished in the fact he finally had his own dragon. 

“Maybe when we get back home we can take Vhagar and Silverwing on a ride together,” he suggested as you two made your way back inside the High Tide. 

“It’s him,” they gasped at the sight of Aemond and you.

“It’s me,” Aemond mocked.

“Vhagar is my mother's dragon.”

“Your mother's dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now,” Aemond stated in arrogance.  

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should've claimed her!” Aemond shouted in thinning patience. You stood behind him keeping your head down as your siblings continued to yell and argue with your betrothed. 

“Y/N, come here,” Jace commanded to you as he saw Aemond shield you from them.

“Jacaerys, you do not command her to do anything unless it is of her free will,” Aemond defended you as your siblings looked at you with disgust for siding with their “enemy.”

The chaos surrounding you came with the overwhelming feeling of guilt of not knowing who to stand by and defend. Causing you to be frozen in your place as they started to fight. You saw punches getting thrown around and how they all ganged up on Aemond.

“Baela, Jacaerys, stop it,” you shouted as you saw them go against Aemond. “Aemond, no!” you continued as you saw Lucerys’ nose bleed profusely from Aemond’s hit.

You were paying so much attention to them that you didn’t see Rhaena coming up to you ready to strike. You only realized when you felt the slap against your cheek.

“How dare you stand next to him instead of your family,” she yelled at you in disappointment. “Father will be so disappointed in you,” she said as if it seemed like you cared so much about your parents’ approval.

Everything seemed to slow down as you heard Aemond yell in pain, you turned in a hurry to try and attend to Aemond. That’s when you saw Lucerys holding a blade and you felt yourself sink down to your knees beside Aemond taking his head on your lap.

“What have you done?!” you shouted at them. “A disgrace upon all of you,” you cursed them cradling Aemond and trying to do your best to comfort him.

Aemond continued to groan in pain as you ripped a portion of your cloak to help stop the bleeding in his eye. The others continued to scream at you and Aemond which you paid no mind to.

“CEASE THIS AT ONCE!” Ser Harrold came rushing in separating your siblings from you and Aemond. 

“GET AWAY!” you screamed as you noticed them quieting down but unmoving. 

“My Prince, my Prince. Let me see,” Ser Harrold approached you two. “Gods be good.”

You stayed by Aemond’s side as the maesters attended to his wounded eye. You held his hand as they stitched it together, feeling him squeeze your hand when the pain got too much for him. You stayed quiet as both families argued against each other. You noticed the look your mother gave you when she saw that you had not taken the side of your siblings. 

Daemon stayed to the side watching the situation play out. Your grandfather continued to demand answers as he shouted amongst the room. 

“I will have the truth of what happened. My sweet granddaughter, tell your grandsire how did this happen?” the King turned to you asking for an explanation of the situation. 

“Due to the death of my Aunt Lady Laena, Vhagar was left unattended and unclaimed by a rider since. Aemond and I went down to see her and to see if Aemond could bond with her which he did. As we made our way back inside the castle, we were stopped by my siblings and cousins, and they argued with Aemond about Vhagar. In my honest opinion, no one truly claims a dragon they just bond with them as a rider, so making Rhaena's claim of Aemond stealing Vhagar from her false as she should not have waited so long to bond with Vhagar,” you started to retell the story to the King who listened closely to your words. “I did not want to fight against my betrothed or my siblings and cousins but I stayed alongside Aemond. The fight broke out between all of them when Baela threw the first punch against Aemond. I did not participate in the fight until Rhaena struck a slap against me while throwing insults towards my loyalty. I was too late to see the blade held by Lucerys and to save Aemond from the attack. It was an unfair fight as it was majorly the four of them against Aemond,” you told your grandfather letting a tear fall on the reddened cheek of yours as you look at Aemond and raised your hand to caress Aemond’s nonaffected cheek. 

Your mother, Rhaenrya looked at you with repulse as you finished retelling the incident. She never realized the actual bond between you and Aemond as she only ever thought of it as you acting for your duty to the throne. 

“Now how is it you are the only one to ever speak the truth? Thank you, granddaughter,” Viserys said as he laid a hand on your shoulder as he passed by you.

“Oh my sweet child,” Alicent came to you and brought you into her arms in a tight squeeze. “Thank you for being with Aemond,” she whispered into your ear as she let go to attend to Aemond more.

A couple of days had passed and you did not leave Aemond’s side for most of it. You noticed himself trying to distance himself from you and knowing it stemmed from the scar that was now embedded upon his face. He was scared of you feeling disgusted by his new appearance. You were quick to reassure him that you still kept the same feelings for him regardless of how he looked. 

You were with Queen Alicent and Aemond in his chambers when the news was broken to you by Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys that your stepfather was found dead. You were holding a vase ready to set it down beside Aemond’s bedside table. Upon hearing the news you froze and the vase slipped out of your hands shattering on the ground where you fell to your knees. You felt small shards of glass against your skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain you felt in your heart for the loss. 

“Dear child, come here,” Rhaenys said with tears in her eyes as she approached you and signaled you to stand up from the broken glass. You felt stuck. Once again. 

“Y/n?” Aemond questioned from his bed. He got out of the covers and carefully stepped around the glass and brought you to sit on the bed. You were silent as tears gushed from your eyes. 

“How?” you managed to say through your growing sobs. Rhaenys and Corlys came to your side as Alicent and Aemond nodded to them as they walked out of the room out of respect. 

“His body was found burned in the fireplace of the hall,” Corlys told you taking the space to your left and Rhaenys took the spot on your right. You were staying down on your bloodied dress and trembling hands. 

“I never got to tell him how much I loved him,” you cried which had Rhaenys pulling you to her chest in a hug as you gripped her sides letting your anguish out. Corlys wrapped his arm around Rhaenys moving you to let yourself lean against the both of them.  

“He knew. He always loved you and was so proud of how you have grown. Always talking about your accomplishments and the adventures you both took visiting around the realms,” Rhaenys admitted to you softly relishing in the fond memories of her son.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to both of them. 

“For what, granddaughter?” Lord Corlys asked letting his hand run through your hair.

“We all know that I am not my father’s actual daughter, but do know the love and respect I held for him in my heart as he raised me as his own,” you told them in honesty but afraid to look meet their eyes you kept your head down.

“Y/n, you are his daughter through and through. He cherished you more than anything in the world and we will always accept you as our own,” Rhaenys pulled your head up to meet her gaze and more tears filled your eyes at the love and acceptance given to you at this moment. 

“You hold the memories of him. You are his legacy,” Corlys confirmed to you. 

END OF FLASHBACK

“Darling, your mother, and her family are coming back here to petition for the claim of Driftmark in days' time,” Alicent snapped you out of your thoughts which caused you to snap your attention to her setting your cup of tea down on the table. 

“Is there a reason I was not made aware sooner?” you asked her with anxiousness crawling inside you.

“I saw no reason to worry you and the raven only arrived last evening,” she replied leaning forward to place her hand on top of yours. “It will be okay.” 

“I have not spoken to them since that day all those years ago,” you admitted aloud.

After the night when you stood by Aemond’s side to explain to your grandfather about the incident, your mother and your entire family turned their back on you. Which only allowed you to keep in contact with your grandparents Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys whether it was you traveling back to High Tide with Silverwing, Aemond, and Vhagar or them coming to the Red Keep to see one another. 

You did not even attend the wedding between your mother and your biological father still upset about the ending of your step-father. You learned to figure out that it was in the hands of your mother and her newlywed husband. You grew to resent them as they took the person who raised you, loved you for who you truly were, and never wanted to change you. 

You stayed at Driftmark until you got sick of the ocean air, and left to return back to the capital. You were welcomed with open arms by everyone but your own family that took their stay in Dragonstone. Your time in Red Keep allowed you to be with Aemond and spent time with your grandfather until he got bedridden a couple moons ago. 

“May I be excused, my Queen?” you asked.

“Of course,” she smiled at you, removing her hand and allowing you to stand and exit her chambers. 

You walked in the halls of the Keep stuck in your own thoughts and worries about what is to come soon. Knowing that it could never be calm with your families. You found yourself near your shared chambers with Aemond and knocked with the hope he was in the room.  Unless he was on the training grounds with Ser Cole.

“Yes?” you heard from inside the room.

“It is only me,” you said loud enough for him to hear you as well. 

“Well do come in,” it was quiet but loud enough for you to open the door enough to let you slip in and shut it behind you. “Has something happened?”

Aemond notices the look on your face and knows that you are drowning in some sorrows. He gets up from his chair near the fireplace to go to you and takes your hands to lead you to the bed to sit. Both of you sit along the side of the bed, but you are staring at your intertwined hands while he stares at you. He removes one of his hands from your and raises it to your chin to lift your head up towards him. Meeting eye to eye he nods to encourage you to tell him your thoughts.

“My mother and her family are coming back to the Keep,” you muttered looking around the room trying to not meet his eye. 

“Is she to bring all of them?” he scoffed at the thought of them being here.

“Yes, I assume so. She still has Jace and Luke, but I think she has another two in addition with Daemon and not to forget about Baela and Rhaena,” you answered as you thought about the family they had created without you.

“Well, we must prepare ourselves for the upcoming days,” he suggested as he let his fingers play with the sapphire betrothal ring the was worn on your left hand.

“I do not want them here.”

“No one does, My love.”

“They cannot come barging into our lives again just because they got bored of theirs,” you whine in frustration. 

“They are pesky little things,” he spat which made you giggle at the tone of his voice. In which he grinned at the sound of your laughs. 

You stood beside Aemond next to Aegon as the petition of Vaemond Velaryon was to be heard for who was to be the next Lord of the Tides. You felt the glares from your siblings as you stood alongside the Greens. With your emerald green dress with black lacing and your body adorned in jewels, they could not stand the sight of you standing tall with them. 

Though they had no right to any opinions they create of you, that did not stop them from frowning at the conjoined hands of you and the prince to your left. It was a constant reminder for them of the night everything changed. As you did not take their side after Lucerys wrongly slashed Aemond’s face. 

“I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins,” Vaemond stated to Otto Hightower who sat upon the King’s throne. As you have gotten along with the rest of the family, the Hand of the King was one person you would always dislike.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon,” Rhaenrya said which made you scoff loudly at the statement. “If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition,” she added on.

“You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra,” Queen Alicent said from her place near you towards your mother.

“Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard,” you continued for the Queen. Rhaenrya snaps her attention to you with sorrow-filled eyes in hearing your voice for the first time in years. Her eyes travel down to the grasp you held onto Aemond’s hand and arm. 

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognize it,” Vaemond scowled at Rhaenrya. “I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor to be the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very…” your mother started.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm,” as your grandfather King Viserys arrives near the doors. 

“I will sit on the throne today,” he breathes heavily. The King limps his way toward the throne before stopping to take in a heaving breath. “I said I’m fine.” 

It broke your heart to see the man you called grandfather slowly wither away to bones. The continuation of his walk does not go any further as he drops his crown as leans over his cane. You removed yourself from Aemond’s side and made your way to your beloved grandfather. 

“Grandfather, here,” you pick up the crown from the floor and offer your arm out to him to try and lead him to the throne easier. 

“Thank you, my child,” as he takes a seat on the throne. 

“My King,” you bowed your head to him as you placed the crown back on his head. 

Making your way down the steps seeing everyone’s shocked faces at the King getting out of his bed rest and his granddaughter for helping him. You made your way back over to the Greens with Alicent stopping you with her arm before you were able to reach Aemond.

“Thank you,” she smiled at you softly.

“I must... admit... my confusion,” the King starts off with coughs. “I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace. It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark would be passed through Ser Laenor’s daughter, Y/n, but in the circumstance that she is the next heir of the Iron Throne after her mother it would be passed to Ser Laenor’s trueborn son… Jacaerys Velaryon,” Princess Rhaenys told to King as she glanced at you slightly giving you a tight-lipped smile. “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

“Well, the matter is settled. Again,” Viserys said. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides. As well as the next change of succession.”

The crowd gasps at the statement of the king. Alicent looks to her father in gleaming hope. Aemond and you look at each other afraid for the words that might be said next as if Aegon were to be crowned heir. Rhaenyra and Daemon look at each other in worry.

“I hereby state a decree whereupon my death the Iron Throne and Crown are passed onto my son Prince Aemond Targaryen and my granddaughter, his betrothed Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Viserys stated to the crowd. “For they are the next heirs to the Iron Throne,” as he looked at you and his son with a smile.

There is an uproar with the crown and attending council members in the change of succession. Cheers were heard all around the room except for your mother and family. Alicent turns to you and Aemond with a bright smile on her face. She takes your face in her hands and tilts your head down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“You will make an amazing queen, Sweetling,” she told you as she placed a hand on your shoulder giving it a tight squeeze. “You, my son will be a brilliant king,” shifting her attention to Aemond. 

“Oh thank the seven hells, it was not me,” you hear Aegon from beside you with a grin on his face which you poked at his side with a small giggle.

“Father, what is the meaning of this?!” your mother shouts from her place to the King.

“It is my wish you do not receive the crown, daughter,” the King said bluntly. 

“You break the law... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir then now your second son and granddaughter,” Vaemond spat at the King. “Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” Viserys scoffed at the claim. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

“Aemond and Y/N are of my kin and as well as Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark,” your grandfather defended. 

“You may run your house as you see fit, but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this,” Vaemond shouted. “Her children are…”

“Say it,” Daemon said from beside Rhaenyra as Aemond pulled you behind him as he glared at Vaemond. 

“BASTARDS! And she IS A WHORE. Not to mention the ward you had taken under your house,” Vaemond yelled loudly in the room allowing every person to hear his words.

“I will have your tongue for that,” Viserys countered.

“WHO ARE YOU TO SPEAK AGAINST MY BETROTHED?” Aemond shouted in anger leaving your side. 

“Maybe she will end up like her moth-” as Aemond took ahold of Vaemond’s neck dragging him out to the courtyard. 

Everyone followed in suit with you running out after Aemond in front of everyone. Even the king who was moved to a chair carried by guards was in attendance to see what his son will do. Alicent grabbed ahold of your hand preventing you from getting too close. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent in envy at the relationship between you and the Queen.

“VHAGAR!” Aemond yelled out to the sky awaiting his dragon. “I shall feed you to my dragon for your vile insults towards the heir.”

“You are not even the king yet,” Vaemond spat blood on Aemond’s boots. 

“Ipradagon zirȳla, Vhagar!” Aemond commanded which had the large she-dragon pop her head into the courtyard and snatch Vaemond up in one piece. (Eat him, Vhagar)

“Well done, my son,” Viserys said from his chair proud at his son’s defense of his beloved granddaughter. 

“ANYONE ELSE THAT MISSPEAKS A WORD AGAINST PRINCESS Y/N WILL BE BURNED ALIVE BY VHAGAR!” Aemond shouts to the crowd. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems,” Viserys started. “My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. As well as our new crowned heirs my sweet granddaughter Y/N and my son Aemond. A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed.”

“Thank you, father,” Aemond thanked Viserys while taking your hand from under the table. 

“It seems that we will be planning your wedding sooner than we thought, Darling,” Alicent said from her seat next to the King. You were seated next to Aemond alongside Helaena. 

“Of course!” you beamed.

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world yet grown so distant from each other in the years past,” Viserys told around the table as he took off the golden mask from his face. “My own face is no longer a handsome one if indeed it ever was. But tonight I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king but your father. Your brother. Your husband and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems to walk for much longer among you. Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

“To you grandfather, King Viserys Targaryen, first of his name,” you said standing up from your seat and raising a glass.

“To King Viserys!” 

“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology,” Rhaenyra toasts to Alicent.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you and to your house. For our children will make fine King and Queen,” Alicent smiled warmly to you and Aemond before turning back to Rhaenyra for the toast. 

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies as Prince Aemond marries my dear sister. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles,” Jace remarked after he had slammed his fists onto the table from what Aegon muttered to him and Baela. 

“I would like to say a few words. I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you except sometimes when he's drunk,” Helaena rose from the seat next to you. “Unless of course they are anything like how Aemond is to Y/n who worships the ground she walks on,” she finished with an airy laugh as you gaped at her wording with wide eyes.

“In speaks of her, this one goes to my daughter, who will ascend the crown and throne as well as her betrothed my nephew. For you shall have a long life and take the throne that you have taken from your mother,” Daemon mocked as he stood from his seat raising a glass to you. 

“You are no father of mine. And I did not take anything from anyone. Aemond and I will allow the kingdoms to grow and prosper instead of you and Rhaenyra taking it for your own selfish reasons and burning it to the ground,” you announced as you slammed your hands on the table.

“Brother, it was upon my wish it was given to them,” Viserys told his younger brother. 

“You are a disgrace to me,” Rhaenyra shouted at you. 

“You murdered my father. It is you who is a disgrace to the Targaryen name!” you argued back with rising anger at the thought of the two people who planned your father’s murder to be standing in the same room as you. 

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to say something but it closed with silence filling the room as tension surrounded the air. Viserys coughs loudly before groaning at the pain in his head making Alicent call the guards to take him back to his chambers. Aemond guides you to sit back down in your seat. Otto smirks at the obvious split between you and your so-called family. Aegon smirks at the entire situation. Daemon frowns at the result of this dinner. 

“I believe it is best if we end dinner now,” Alicent spoke out.

“Are you okay, My love?” you heard from behind you as you took out the pins holding up your hair. 

“Of course,” you replied. 

Aemond remove your hand from your hair and replaced them with his own as he started to carefully unbraid your hair. Though it was a normal occurrence that Aemond undid your hair, it never seemed to stop the warm feeling you would get when he did. 

“It is you who deserves to sit on the throne the most.”

“We will share it.”

“My love, it belongs to you, a true Targaryen.”

“Please do not mention my heritage as of now,” you groaned at the mention which made Aemond laugh at the thought of the dinner that just happened.

“In days' time we will be married,” Aemond said as he took your hand to motion you to stand.

“We shall be bound till our last breath,” rising from your seat to stand in front of him.

“I would never want it any other way,” pressing his lips against yours.

a happy ending for the last targaryen

Bran Stark x Targaryen! Reader 🤍🖤

ooc bran? i miss goT :(

your sister dany died but you shed no tears, she had became mad like your father. the only family you had left was your dragon drogon but you still felt alone. but you weren’t entirely alone you had bran stark, you and the stark boy had an odd friendship. something about you pulled him in like a magnet. he liked spending time with you and you him. when bran was named the king of the six kingdoms you clapped for him. nobody truly deserved it more than him.

some hours later king bran had called you in for a private meeting. you had thought he was going to have you get rid of your beloved dragon but it was because he had quite the question for you. “y/n. you had been a friend to me in my time of need” he cleared his throat and you just smiled as you always did that was your bad habit. “you don’t have anybody and i hate to admit but i enjoy your company.” you rolled your eyes. “thanks?” you bowed your head.

“what i mean to say is, it is in your best interest that you accept my proposal.” he huffed giving a half assed smile. “what’s your proposal?” you walked a little closer to him. “marry me? this way you can be queen and you will never be alone.” you were shocked but he was right, you didn’t want to feel alone and being queen of basically ashes didn’t sound to bad. “what’s the catch?” you laughed.

“i don’t know if I can have children so we may never have any.” he sighed and you just slyly smiled. “i didn’t know we would be uh -“ your cheeks felt hot trying to explain your point. “well i assumed we’d consummate our union ?” he grew embarrassed. “as you said you don’t know so we can try and if it doesn’t work. it won’t matter.” you crouched down so you can be in his eye level. you caressed his cheek. “because ill have you…. and drogon” he rolled his eyes. you brought your lips to his and you had a passionate kiss. “bran the broken and the last targaryen, who would’ve thought?” you grinned.

“i can’t think of no greater love story” he said with his usual blank expression. you laughed while kissing him on his cheek. “there isn’t one greater than ours”

and you lived ………..

happily ever after

THE DANCE OF THE BLACK WIDOW

bruce wayne x black widow! reader. this is based on the gotham verse but you can picture any bruce you want :3.

playlist: i did something bad - taylor swift, bellow the surface - griffinila, you don’t own me - saygrace, cardigan - taylor swift, static - steve lacy , dark red - steve lacy , softcore - tnh

[ a widow is trained like a machine, meant to have no emotions, no chance of feeling love…. but what if bruce wayne, the man she is protecting teaches her how to love. ]

[october 1st ]

“number 001, enter” dreykov called out to you, he was the owner and founder of the red room. the place you had trained at since you were a child, sat next to him was oswald cobblepot aka the penguin. you entered the big office room and you bowed your head to both men. “001, this is my friend and our new client, penguin.” dreykov smiled at you.

“hello mr. penguin, how may i be of use.” you turned to him and you saw his face light up. dreykov gave you the look. the look was kinda like a green light of sorts, like a code for ~go ahead show off your skills~. dreykov whistled and two big men entered the room, you walked down to a corner of the room, the men followed and when dreykov banged his fist on his desk you got to work, you punched and kicked and flipped both dudes until they dropped on the floor.

they were both bloody and bruised while you didn’t even have a scratch on you. “she’s amazing, my god!!” oswald clapped and laughed like a mad man. dreykov grinned. penguin looked at you ignoring dreykov. “what else can you do.”

“karate, judo, kung fu, wrestling and i’m trained in acrobatics.” your voice sounded almost emotionless and that’s what oswald liked most about you. “she’s skilled in every combat style, she’s a master assassin” you nodded. “I might know of a certain billionaire who might be interested in her” penguin smiled. “bruce wayne? he’s mere boy. what could he use my widow for?” dreykov rolled his eyes.

“all these villains want to kill him. a widow will do him good.” penguin laughed. you swore to god that dreykov gave a genuine smile. “why did u request 001. she’s fresh. i have more experienced widows.” he was right, you just started getting missions at fifteen. other widows like yelena have had over twenty eight years of experience. so why did he want you?.

“bruce is a man of particular taste, y/n is a young beautifully… dangerous woman, just his type”. after about ten minutes of discussion, dreykov dismissed you and told you to pack your things. if things go according to the plan bruce wayne would bid on you and win. you didn’t know why dreykov and oswald wanted bruce to bid on you? but you were raised to follow orders not to question them. widows just do. they don’t ask why and they never said No.

that night you returned to your chambers and started packing your things. all your belongings fit into one medium sized suitcase. you’ve done research on bruce, how his parents died. how villians want him dead. the things he cares about the most some theif named selina kyle, his butler alfred pennyworth.

it was the night of oswalds auction you changed into your stealth suit. it was black with a red hourglass logo on the belt. all widows had white hourglasses on their suits, but dreykov made yours red you never knew why. a handler woman named lorna came and escorted you outside where a limo was waiting for you. you grabbed your suitcase and opened the door. on one side it was the penguin and dreykov.

you sat down on the right side of the limo and sighed. this was going to be a long mission. Oswald cleared his throat “don’t worry, this is only temporary, right?”. dreykov nodded grinning a bit. “right. you’ll be back in two months.” he grabbed champagne and poured himself a glass.

•

you were tucked away in a corner with dreykov watching bidders bid on top of the line weapons, historical paintings that should have been givin to the gotham museum. you kept your eye on bruce he was bidding on some painting, all night he was just reckless spending money. “I LOVE ART. I LOVE IT! YEA” he screamed you weren’t even close to him at all but he was still so loud. “that kids an absolutely brat but he’s definitely gonna love you.” dreykov glanced up at you patting you on your shoulders. “why? does he need to love me.” you cleared your throat. “all in good time my dear.” he chuckled.

you heard bruce and a woman with a white bob have a bidding war over a knife. a knife for god sakes. “woah ms kean. that’s a lot of money, for someone like you” bruce shouted. what an asshole you thought. “TWO MILLION DOLLARS”. bruce just spent two million dollars on a stupid looking knife. you saw oswald run to the stand and bang the wooden gavel. “SOLD! to mr. bruce wayne” people applauded. dreykov chuckled. penguin gave dreykov the signal. penguin was going to go get him interested in well basically renting you.

bruce’s pov:

“i do love seeing that woman lose.” oswald laughed and applauded me. i gave him a fake cocky smile. i was still supposed to be acting like a complete brat after all. he came closer to me and whispered. “a little piece of friendly advice. barbara kean does not give up easily” i nodded pretending to be looking concerned. “she will be coming for that knife. i would just,uh, keep a close eye on it if i were you” oswald grinned. “or you could pay someone else to do it. like a highly trained assassin. she’s the best of the best. they call her a widow. im auctioning her off for two months.” oswald whispered even lower. now he kinda was peeking my interest. “i think you’d like her. you could use a henchman or in this case a henchwomen.” he patted my shoulders and walked back up to the stage. who was he talking about?

“well there’s a new wrinkle, isn’t it?” alfred sighed. “we should stay for the last item. i’d like to see her.” i turned my head back to the stage. “her? you do have a taste for the dangerous. don’t you master b” i rolled my eyes and chuckled. “i do need as much help as i can get against ra’s al ghul” i whispered.

oswald brought up a girl in a black jumpsuit on stage. she was well gorgeous , h/c hair, e/c eyes and a beautiful complexion. she had a a gun strapped on her left thigh. a red hourglass logo was on her belt. “a trained widow assassin. two months of safety guaranteed. she’s made to kill.” oswald laughed. the girl had said nothing. not a word. “can i get a thousand dollars.” i was about to raise my hand to bid but then a old guy in a red suit came close to the auction stage. “three thousand dollars.” the old guy muttered oswalds face changed to an annoyed look.

“five thousand dollars and 89 cents.” i raised my hand but this creep kept bidding more. “fuck off” I told him. i don’t know why but i needed to be near her. “a million and fifteen cents” oswald winked at me and raised his gavel to bang it on the desk. “SOLD! to mr bruce wayne again.” some people clapped, the others gave me dirty looks.

•

dreykov grabbed your suitcase and your hand and escorted you to bruce . you kept a smile on your face and you had your hands to the side, almost dangling over your gun. “mr. wayne. congratulations this is 001. my personal favorite widow” dreykov chuckled a bit. “so she’s a bodyguard?” alfred questioned. “yes and so much more. she has many different talents, ill pick her up november 30th unless you decide to rent her again. you bowed your head before speaking. “mr.wayne, i am at your service.” he smiled and shook your hand.

you shook alfreds hand and greeted him. “mr pennyworth” you bowed. “no need for that child.” he smiled. you were put off by it, it’s like a fake smile. maybe he felt bad for you. but you didn’t really know. you haven’t felt anything. only anger and fear. “so i’ll let you get going.” dreykov handed you your suitcase and left, probably going to find penguin. you clutched your suitcase but suddenly alfred grabbed your suitcase from your hands. “alright master wayne. miss 001. let’s get going.”

the car ride to bruce’s home was really awkward. he kept asking you questions about dreykov and about widows, you gave him very vague answers. “why do they call you 001?” he asked. “i don’t know. dreykov picked it out.” you said blank faced. “widows don’t have names?” he asked like a curious boy. a complete 180 from what u seen him act like at the auction. “some do. dreykov gives us names when he thinks we deserve it.” you sighed it was chilly in his car. alfred watched you two from the rear view window. “alfred when we reach the manner could you prepare tea, i have a lot of questions for 001”

• 

“don’t you feel that its dehumanizing that dreykov auctioned you off.” bruce sips his tea as alfred pours you some. “well i don’t really feel much of anything really. dreykov is like a father. this is how i repay him.” you bowed your head to alfred and sipped your tea. “how long have you been um- uh?” he choked on his words. “widowing? since I was fifteen so 4 and a half years.” his eyes wandered around your face. “you’re alovely miss. why become something so deadly” the older man asked while taking a seat next to bruce at the dinning table. “girls are often under looked by men. i use my lovely face to manipulate men and then I shoot them dead” alfreds eyebrows raised.

you really shouldn’t be sharing any of this with bruce but you did anyways it just felt natural talking to him. “i noticed at the auction earlier. that you have a red hourglass on your belt.” bruce placed a scone on your plate with some tongs. “it’s a symbol all widows agents have but only mine is red.” it wasn’t necessary to tell him the last bit, yet you did. “the black widow has an red hourglass marking” he bit into his scone. “i like it. that spider is deadly” you grinned “the name suits you well. 001 the black widow. doesn’t it alfred?”. “yes sir but she’ll need a name we won’t be calling her a bloody number.” alfred chuckled.

“im sure we will come up with something but in the meantime we will call her widow. is that ok with you.” he looked to you. “of course sir.”

[bruce’s study ]

it was big and rustic looking. lots of books on fancy looking shelves. he sat down on his chair in front of a desk. you adjusted your a suit a bit and made sure your gun was loaded and ready, as well as your escrima sticks. “do you ever have days off?” oh god more questions you thought. “nope. i love this job.” eh it was half true. “i don’t really know you but something tells me that i want to”

“mr. wayne there’s nothing to know.” you sat down on the couch near the desk. “on the contrary. i think there’s much to learn.” he grinned. bastard. you were feeling things you shouldn’t have. COULDN’T HAVE. widows don’t get butterflies in their stomachs. they don’t deserve it. love. you wouldn’t even know what it’d feel like. widows are basically like machines.

“i think i sense something sir. don’t be alarmed but im going to turn off your lights. stay put.” you walk over to the light switch and switch it off.

you stood very close to the window. you signaled to bruce to keep quiet. a couple seconds later a shadowy figure appeared in his study. you ran up and used your thighs to flip her over and on top of the ground. bruce turned his desk lamp on. “selina?” bruce said slowly like he wasn’t sure. “should I finish her off sir” you reached for your gun that rested on your thigh. “no. let her get up” you did as you were told. “ow! so this is the tramp you hired huh?” selina chuckled . “watch how you address her. she’s my widow.” he raised his voice just a little bit.

you felt a vibe between them. maybe they used to go out you thought. “apologies. we were expecting some else” bruce sighed. “who?” selina scoffed. “doesn’t matter. what are you doing here?” he sounded genuinely curious. you walked over to bruce’s side. you clutched your gun in you hands. you don’t trust the street rat you hear he is so infatuated with. “i heard about penguins auction” selina looked at you up and down. “so barbara sent you for the knife. figured i’d just hand it over” listening to these two bickering was hilarious. “something like that.” she smiled. “why’s it so important to her?”

“how should i know? she was supposed to get it for some client. a pretty dangerous guy.” selina huffed “and that if you were smart you’d hand it over and save yourself the trouble.” selinas eyes were calm. meant that she didn’t see bruce as a treat. that’s how she was able to talk to him so causally. “I spent two million dollars on it i think I’ll keep it” he began to raise his voice. you kept your words to yourself.

“why are you acting like this.” selina crossed her arms sounding a bit hurt. “me? what about you. are you barbara keans errand girl now.?” he stood up from behind his desk. “I’m her partner but she won’t see me as equals unless you do me this solid.” selina pleaded with him. “widow. you may be dismissed. there is no threat” you bowed and left the study leaving bruce and selina alone.

•

about an hour later alfred helped you settle into your bedroom. it was big and had plenty of room. alfred brought you some clean sheets and fluffy blue towels . you thanked the elderly man and bowed. “goodnight young miss.” he smiled and left you alone. you made your bed and unpacked some of your jumpsuits into one of the many closets. you grabbed a blue towel and went to shower.

you wanted to wash the guilt away. you grabbed your pill bottle and took two. dreykov would scold you if you didn’t take them. you packed a black pair of shorts and a tank top. a widows favorite pajama set. another thing you sneakily pack was a pair of pink pointe shoes. you didn’t enjoy much of anything but you did like ballet, tho you’d never say it out loud.

after you got out of the shower you brushed your hair into a tight bun. two knocks were heard. “widow.” it of course was bruce wayne. you closed your eyes and sighed walking to the door. “hello sir, do you need anything” you smiled. “no. i just want to let you know that im four doors down. and alfred’s room is downstairs. if you need anything.” he smiled.

“thank you sir” you bowed your head. “bruce is fine. tomorrow me and alfred have some errands to run but you are free to use the kitchen,gym and living room. alfred will set up a tv for you tomorrow” his voice was soft as silk, as sweet as red whine. “goodnight” he touches your arm and pats it. “night.” you said in response. he left leaving you feeling very much confused. how would you last two months?

THE VOID

Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

saw an edit of alicent with static by steve lacy and got inspired . “hope u find peace for yourself”

you’ve known anthony since you were fourteen, back then you used to fawn over him but he only saw you as elosie’s best friend but that all changed when you had been named the diamond of the season, he now saw you as a potential match. a potential bride.

eloise told you how much she hated that you and anthony were courting. she told you that she’d never speak to you again if you married anthony, so you were acting dumb so he wouldn’t be interested but when your father caught on to your scheme he beat you for how you acted in front of anthony.

so to avoid anymore punishment you acted on your best behavior. anthony danced with you thrice and promenaded with you a couple times and that was enough for him to propose. after he asked your father for your hand, he asked you in front of both of your families. in front of his mother and his siblings and your father and uncle. you said yes because you knew if you said no your father would be livid.

you’re only eighteen years old and he is one and thirty so you didn’t really have much in common other than you both liked to read and you both hated losing in pall mall but he was decent to you. he gave you a huge allowance so you’d go shopping if you got bored.which was very often. after your honeymoon you took up the role of the lady in the house, dowager bridgerton moved to another home close by with eloise, francesca and gregory. though you and anthony told them that they could stay they left to give you guys space. well almost everyone.

hyacinth stayed because she “liked the room she has already and she had no need to move”. so it was the three of you most of the time, she became kind of like a friend to you even tho she was only twelve. you wouldn’t call yourself her mother figure because she already had a great mother who was only a few houses down but you knew she looked up to you. you and hyacinth would go gown shopping and would go for strolls in the park. that was the only time you felt joy. anthony would barely speak to you. you didn’t share a room with him. you two would only have sex twice every month so you could try to produce heirs.

dinners were quite. silence only broke if hyacinth spoke. after a while you gave birth to edmund jack bridgerton, so your days were less boring. you’d spend most days with baby edmund and hyacinth. once in a while daphne and violet would visit you. eloise would only speak to you if it was necessary. she called you “lady bridgerton” or “viscountess bridgerton”. most days you cried yourself to sleep.

you felt empty. you missed the girl you used to be. lady y/n was free and fun whilst viscountess bridgerton was a bore and trapped. you had finally had enough when lady whistledown called you a broodmare. a horse who’s only purpose was to breed. you were hurt because it was true.

Enamored Masterlist

Summary: Everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst.

Yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. They had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight.

Regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss.

That assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though.

You were nowhere near ready.

Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, Regency era society and social rules, angst. (Separate warnings included in chapters)

Keep reading

THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME

tewkesbury x fem!reader

warnings: old time values, misogyny, mature themes, marriage of convenience, love at first sight (tewesbury)

songs: until i found you - stephen sanchez, i hear a symphony- cody fry, good old fashion lover boy - queen, enchanted- taylor swift, head over heels - tears for fears,

the viscount tewkesbury believed in true love. he believed that his perfect match was somewhere out there, he once thought his perfect match was enola holmes but after confessing his feelings to her she sadly shot him down, she didn’t feel the same way at all, not even in the slightest bit.

tewkesbury decided that it was time to move on, he was twenty but he was the viscount, apart of the house of lords and most importantly he wanted a wife to spend time with and a family of his own to take care of. he told his mom that he was interested in finding a match this season and she was more than excited she was absolutely thrilled for him. she really wanted a daughter in law… someone to take her place as viscountess.

not even a week later they had gotten dozens of invites to balls but to tewkesbury disappointment he didn’t find anyone who sparked his interests, but he wasn’t one to give up, he’d attend two more balls this week, he hoped he had better luck.

the lady y/n bennett would make her debut into society at the watson ball tomorrow night, she was very excited. she loved getting all dressed up, she loved party’s and dancing. there was one thing that y/n didn’t love and that was love itself. she didn’t really really hate love she just disliked it a lot.

she didn’t want to get married so quickly but her father was very eager to marry her off to an earl or perhaps a duke. her father was an earl but he wanted his daughter to marry someone with a higher title then himself. y/ns mother was one of the reasons y/n didn’t really believe in love, her mother taught her that it didn’t matter what he looked like or how he acted if he had a higher title you say yes. well now she’s dead so your fate was in your fathers hands

your mother was well, decent but she never really showed you any love or payed u any attention, she couldn’t care less that you excelled at academics. she only cared about your looks. she fell ill last year and died before the season started.

you knew most men only saw women as cattle, they’d use them to breed an heir and that’s about it. men didn’t care if you had a personality or hobbies, as long as you looked decent and had good “birthing hips”. you prayed that at least a decent looking man took interest in you. oh did u have a storm coming.

•

it was the day of the watson ball and you were both excited and extremely nervous, you wore a light purple gown with grey accents. your hair was styled. your ladies maids did your makeup and picked your shoes. after you were all finished you headed down stairs to the living room area. your father was his usual self, serious but very loving towards you.

“y/n you look pretty, your mother would be very proud” he smiled and you nodded and gave a warm smile back. “we should head to the watsons the way isn’t far but i would like to get this over with” he let out a sigh and you followed him to the door.

at bashilwether hall

tewkesbury was trying to remain positive about tonight’s festivities, his mother constantly reminding him that new eligible young ladies would be attending. he just wanted someone to love, someone to start a family with. he was getting awfully bored at bashilwether hall, all those rooms but no kids to fill them up, most men his age would wait until the age of one and thirty to tie themselves down but he was different he didn’t just run on lust. he wanted love.

he and his mother caroline stepped into their carriage and made their way to the watsons manor for their annual first season ball. his mother tried to make small talk by telling him about some of the young ladies that would be attending. “i hear lady bennett is simply breathtaking, maybe you shall make her your marchioness” caroline said in a cheery voice. the young man muttered “maybe mother”

“perhaps lady daphne watson she’s freshly debuted in society, I hear she watercolors” caroline chuckled. “is she well read? does she like flowers?” he questioned. “son… none of these young ladies will tick everything off in your list”.

• 20 minutes later

tewkesbury standing by the dessert table munching on mini chocolate cakes. it had been twenty minutes and still no young lady had ignited a spark in him. many mamas shoved their daughters down his throat. everyone was dancing and mingling but him. the ballroom door was open and it revealed a breath taking young women and who he hoped was her father. he noticed other gentleman take a liking to her. he saw sir peters practically run towards her. this mystery girl in purple was the one for him. he shall have her, she shall become viscountess tewkesbury.

she and sir peters were now dancing, his jaw clenched. this wasn’t a diamond in the rough situation she was like a diamond in the clearest water. a diamond that he and every other lord and maybe even lady wanted. viscount tewkesbury was different from the other men, he was young and more open minded. he was all for women’s rights.

he watched as the lady in purple swayed and danced with dukes, earls and even other viscounts but she didn’t really looked interested in any of them, so he was going to sweep you off your feet and become your knight and shining armor. he knew if anything about courting it’s best to talk to the lady’s father.

so that he did. he walked across the room and introduced himself. “viscount tewkesbury the marquis of bashilwether” he flashed his charming smile. the older gentleman shook his hand and stated his name back. “earl of davenport, edmund bennett”. after conversing with the gentleman for a good thirty minutes he managed to make the man laugh….. edmund hadn’t laughed since his wife died.

“you should meet my daughter. the young lady in light purple. y/n bennett” he pointed out his daughter. “i’d be honored. she’s very beautiful.” he almost stuttered. “oh look the music stopped, let me go fetch my daughter. stay put son.” he patted his arm and went to get his daughter.

after a few minutes of y/ns father shooing away men they finally approached the young handsome viscount. “viscount tewkesbury, this is my daughter’s the honorable y/n bennett.” y/n bowed but she looked rather bored. “viscount tewkesbury the marquess of bashilwether” he grinned and kissed her gloved hand. “y/n darling why don’t you tell the viscount of your hobbies” the man gave his daughter a little nudge. “i- i like to read,write um- walks in my garden. i love flowers” that was the moment tewkesbury knew she was the love of his life. “flowers? something we have in common what’s your favorite lady bennett” before she could answer an much older man approach them. “sir melton, you are very lovely may i have this dance?” tewkesbury mentally cursed at the man, he was way to old to be courting a freshly debuted women. “actually sir. i owe the viscount here a dance” tewkesbury got the hint and took her by the arm. “the viscount has the last slot on her dance card, hurry on children” y/ns father let out taking a drink of his liquor.

with that said you and tewkesbury strolled to the dance floor. “your gown is amazing.” you smiled not to big but it was there. “thank you my lord”. another song started playing and they began to waltz. tewkesbury admired her as she spun around. after a couple minutes of silence between them, y/n bennett spoke with a genuine tone and not a blank one like before. “hyacinths.” tewkesbury was caught by a surprise by her sudden attitude change. “pardon?” he pretended he didn’t hear but… he did.

“if i had to choose a favorite it’d be the hyacinth flower” she smiled and her smile made his legs turn to jelly. “lovely flower for a lovely girl” the music stopped and you bowed. he escorted you back to your father on the other side of the room. “you two would make such a lovely pair” tewkesbury wanted to ask him for your hand already but he knew it was to soon and frowned upon. “father.” y/n grumbled.

“well we should get going. if u intend to court my daughter you best get on the list of callers. a lot have taken interest” you wanted to dig yourself in the ground. “i fully intend to win your daughters hand” he bowed. “it brings me such despair to say goodbye, until tomorrow” you blushed a little

[the carriage ride home]

tewkesbury talked his mothers ear off, he explained to her his plan on winning your heart. caroline was just happy that he was finally happy. “she’s my true love mother, i was foolish to think it was enola” caroline just smiled and nodded. “what will you bring her? when u call on her tomorrow.” she yawned. “hyacinth flowers and maybe some sweets.” “i think i predicted this, i knew you’d pick ms bennett she’s very beautiful and talented.” his mother smiled.

“i was talking to her father and he seems eager to marry her off. it was her mothers wish. she died before the season started.” caroline let out a soft sigh. “how sad. i hope he doesn’t marry her off to the first person that asks. i’d like the engagement ring father gave you.” he cleared his throat. “of course son, i can’t wait for a daughter in law and grandchildren, it won’t be so empty” she smiled just thinking about it. little versions of her son running around would bring her so much joy.

•

the ride home in your carriage was much more quiet. eventually your father broke the silence once he coughed. “the viscount tewkesbury would be a perfect match my dear. he’s only a couple years older than you, he’ll make a fine husband” he let out. you didn’t want to marry this fast. you just wanted to enjoy the season. “he’s alright i suppose” you just closed your eyes wanting to drift off to sleep to avoid this conversation. “duke haselby also was very smitten with you. maybe the duke of hastings he seemed very kind to you.” you ignored him and kept your eyes closed hoping he’d think you were asleep.

“Y/N!” your father raised his voice. you pretended to just wake. “yes father?” you said in a sleepy voice. “I spoke to the boys mother and tewkesbury is very set on marrying this season. he’s going to be on one knee in a fortnight.” you sighed frowning a bit. “I don’t want to wed this fast father, why can’t i just wait until the season is over.” you said in a serious tone giving your father the death glare. “your mother wanted u to…. her dying wish. you’re lucky she’s not here with us, she would’ve married you off to old duke wellings” he yelled and you felt tears stream down your face. “I love you dear. i just want what’s best for you.” you cried until you reached home.

•

it was the next morning and your ladies maids woke you up to prepare you for breakfast. one your ladies maids told you that your father requested that you eat in your room so you can get prepared for the evening. suitors would probably burst down your door in about five hours so you sighed and ate your fruit salad and tea. “I’d like to wear my pink dress today. and i want my hair to be pinned up please” your maid’s comply almost immediately. one gets your pink dress and the others get to work on undressing you to prepare you for a bath.

after your bath, your maid start to do your hair and another one applys makeup. you start to think about what you’ll say to suitors. you don’t want to embarrass your father but maybe if u act unlikable the suitors will leave and never come back. there is both upsides and downsides to that plan. you just hoped and prayed he didn’t show up, tewkesbury was handsome and very wealthy but he just seemed so in love with you and you didn’t like that. love in general made u feel a little weird. you loved your father and uncle but that was family love not romantic. after a while you were done getting ready so you went downstairs to the living room where you knew your father would be residing.

“the callers should be here in an hour” your father grumbled while he read a news sheet. you sighed and sat down on the sofa with your favorite book in hand. a maid entered the room and your father ordered for her to alert the chef to bring out pastries and tea and finger sandwiches for the guests. you rolled your eyes. an hour passed and already you had 14 callers lined up at the door waiting for their turn to meet you. another hour passed and you’ve seen about twenty men, that was way more than you expected but tewkesbury didn’t show.

the last suitor left as his time was up, he wished you and your father a good evening and left. you could tell your father was angry, probably because stupid tewkesbury didn’t show up, he probably realized that love is stupid and he doesn’t like me but before you could bask in your victory, there he was with flowers and chocolate in hand. the butler announced him and your dad grinned. “viscount tewkesbury the marquess of basilwether” the viscount bowed and you got up and did the same.

“i’m sorry i’m late, paperwork got the best of me. here” he handed you a bouquet of hyacinths and a chocolate box, he remembered your favorite flower so you decided to play nice for now. “thank you my lord they are very lovely.” you stared at the flowers in awe, you alerted your maid to take the flowers up to your bedchamber. “should we sit? i’d love to talk more about you. what’s your favorite colors?” you looked at your father who gave you a look of approval so you smiled and sat down next to tewkesbury.

“well if you mean dress colors, i suppose pinks, blues and purples- OH and greens. i love green in everything.” your voice became more cheery and he adored that. “you do look beautiful in purple. i bet you do look stunning in a green one.” he smiled. after some hours of talking he fell more and more in love with you, you checked off everything in his list. loves flowers check! beautiful check! loves to read check. there was just one more thing to ask.

“do you like children?” your eyes widened. he already talks of children? you two aren’t even engaged. “i do” you just smiled because yeah you hated love and the idea of marrying but you loved kids, you especially had a soft spot for your aunts twins. she would sometimes bring her baby’s over when she visits you. you loved them. you didn’t have much family. just your dad, uncle and your mothers sister and her twin sons. “how many would you want?” he cleared his throat clearly nervous. you blinked trying to think of what to say. should you be honest or should you be realistic?? but before you could figure it out your brain just muttered it out for you. “four! three boys and one girl” you saw his eyes soften. “I think that’s a perfect amount of children, you’d be a perfect mother.” he touched your hand and for a second it felt like you two were already married and expecting. “uh thank you my lord, im sure you’d be great father.” he blushed.

after a while he talked to your father, then as it was getting late he left. you knew this wasn’t gonna be the last time you see him. oh no! this was just the beginning.

four weeks later

it had only been four weeks since they met but tewkesbury was already one hundred percent sure he wanted you now and forever. so he planned on asking for your hand at tonight’s ball. he was so happy about his future for once. you two would get married in a couple months and then you’d move in with him, you’d start taking on some of the viscountess duty’s and then maybe in a years time…. you’d have children.

an hour passed and he let other men dance with you because he knew you’d be his very very soon. he spotted edmund and informed him of everything. your father was excited he shook the boys hand gave him permission. “you have my blessing” your father happily said while him and tewkesbury raised their cups for a toast. you were dancing with a duke and so very oblivious to what your father agreed to.

after a while you started snacking at the dessert table. there you saw your father and tewkesbury talking but not just how normal gentleman talk like how a family would talk. you wanted to yell at your father and ask him what they were talking about. you were wearing a yellow gown, your father picked it. it wasn’t hideous but still yellow was just not the color you were feeling on this cold fall night. you would’ve wore a dark purple if you had the choice.

you started to feel tired so you walked across the ballroom and alerted your father that you wanted to go home. he grunted probably annoyed at you but he agreed and he apologized to tewkesbury for cutting there conversation short.

•

the carriage ride was peaceful until your father cleared this throat. “I know you’ve only knew the viscount for a while now but-“ you cut him off and this time you were going to be honest. “he’s great father. very handsome and yes he sent me a mountain of gifts but I don’t want to marry him” you’re fathers face turned purple… he was going to freak out. he was going to yell at you and you knew it.

“Being a marchioness is an honor you know!, an honor you will get used to” he calmly said. he didn’t yell. “I don’t want to be married, I’m only eighteen i just left the schoolroom father. can’t i just participate in next year’s season ill be nineteen and ready.” your father scoffed. edmund cleared his throat and simply said. “if the viscount tewkesbury proposes to you…” he huffed. “you will accept with a smile on your face” tears came out of your eyes as you pleaded with him. “do u understand me girl?”

“yes father.” was all you could say. you knew that viscount tewkesbury would propose soon, and you’d have to say yes… with a smile on your face.

•

it was about a week later, it was a friday morning and you got up bathed, brushed your hair and got dressed. the night before your father told you tewkesbury and his mother caroline were coming over for dinner, he also told you to wear your new blue dress with the gold detail. you knew that this was a proposal dinner. you sighed. the ladies maids left your room as you huffed and threw yourself on your bed. hopefully your makeup wasn’t smudged.

you woke up to the sound of your ladies maid calling your name out. “ms bennett? miss? y/n?.” she shook you up. did you seriously fall asleep? “miss it’s been hours the viscount will be here soon, let’s get you freshened up.” you did as she said and to your surprise it was already dark outside… YOU SLEPT THAT LONG??!!!!!. you jumped out of bed and looked in your mirror. “I’ll just fix your hair miss, your makeup is still on” and so you let her. she did it quickly and you thanked her. you basically ran down the stairs into the dinning room.

“daughter our guests will arriving soon, take your seat. if tonight is thee night.. you shall do as your told.” he chuckled drinking the brandy from his cup. “i get it” you sat down and started mentally planning your death. thirty minutes passed and tewkesbury and his mother arrived, you got up from your seat and bowed to them both. caroline walked over to you looking you up and down and she hugged you. it felt nice… motherly love you never got. you hugged back and after a minute or two you both pulled away.

dinner went by fine, your dad and tewkesbury bonded over well… you. you and caroline had so much in common. she told you that in bashilwether they had a french modiste who did amazing dresses with embroidery. dessert came around and it was probably your favorite the chefs ever made. it was a chocolate croissant. after dessert, you four took the party into the living room where you and caroline continued to talk. the night was going well until tewkesbury walked over to you and got down on his knees. “will you do me the honor of becoming- viscountess tewkesbury the marchioness of bashilwether? be my wife??” you looked to your father who gave you a stern look, you wanted to cry.

“yes, i would be honored” caroline cheered and so did your father and the servants. tewkesbury slipped the ring on your finger and got up and hugged you. carrying you and spinning you. you put on a fake smile, this was going to be your new life.

really into me???

tom!peter parker x f!reader

I love the nerdy! peter x popular girl trope sm🥹

i was surprised to see that a woman like that was really into me”

you’ve always been popular, you were pretty but with popularity comes fake friends,people assuming your a bitch and a long list of expectations.

you wore the best clothes, your hair and makeup were always flawless, you wore cute shoes but that’s not why peter liked you, he liked you because one time in biology class he saw you looking at star wars memes and from that day on he was in love and total utterly obsessed with you. also because he thought you were nice and smart but never in a MILLION years would he think you’d like him back .

ur pov

i walked through the long hallway to get to my locker, i needed to get something… a lightsaber, a star wars replica lightsaber. i wanted peter to talk to me. he was nerdy and he liked star wars which is always a green flag in men, i tried dropping hints that i liked him but he just wasn’t getting it. i hope he didn’t have a gf. i see him sit with michelle watson at lunch all the time but they didn’t seem like a couple.

i reach my locker and put in my combo, i open my locker and grab the toy and quickly shove it in my bag, i slam my locker shut and hurry to biology class.

•

you reached your classroom and rushed to your seat and just in time the bell rang loudly. peter grinned as you huffed under your breath, the teacher welcomed everyone and wished them a good afternoon. you tuned her out because honestly you were just looking at peter and you hoped he didn’t notice. when the teacher finished talking and gave everyone instructions for the lesson plan. peter turned to you and began spurring out random facts to put in your notes you smiled at him and to your surprise he smiled widely back at you. you felt your heart race.

when the bell rang and class was dismissed before peter had got up to leave you tapped his shoulder and you pulled out the lightsaber and his eyes lit up. “woah that’s scarily accurate. does it turn on” he said with curiosity. you nodded your head and turned it on and the saber lire bright green. “it’s actually uh for you- you seem like a green lightsaber guy” you smiled way to wide you mentally kicked yourself.

“no uh i couldn’t accept this” he was charming and you just wanted to kiss him then and there. “no please do! i have another at home, blue. like obi wan” you softly chuckled. “do you maybe wanna come over and like hangout”. you retracted the saber and put it in his hands. “yeah” he didn’t expect you to actually say yes. you took a marker from the table and wrote it on a piece of paper. “text me soon parker” you got your bag and left. he was in shock. Ned would never believe this.

•

he almost immediately texted ned and told him everything. ned couldn’t believe it until you waved to him at lunch, ned was now convinced. peter couldn’t wait for your hangout. your friends weren’t supportive of your interest in peter, who you thought was your best friend maddy had actually gagged when you told her you were planning on hanging out with him, sadie thought you were committing social suicide by associating yourself with Peter.

but you didn’t care. you made sure to look extra pretty so you could impress him. you wanted so badly to ask him to the dance but it was to early to tell if he liked you yet, flash asked you twenty times yesterday and you rejected him twenty times. flash sent you roses and chocolate but you thought it was annoying. flash bullied peter and he was just an asshole to everyone who wasn’t popular.

•

your hangout with Peter was a success. you learned so much about him and you were surprised to learn he already knew everything about you. you two became fast friends. you began hanging out with him two times a week. you studied and watch movies, you even went out to dinner with him and his aunt may. did i mention aunt may was basically the biggest peter x y/n shipper. it was prom week and today was the day you mustered up the courage to ask Peter if he wanted to go with you.

**********

you texted peter to meet you in the hallway during 6th period and you anxiously waited. you cleared your throat and practiced how you’d ask him. you feared he’d reject you or what if he laughed in your face? you’ve never feared rejection before but with peter… it was different. he was different then any guy you had liked before, you genuinely liked hanging out with him and you didn’t just like him cus your friend pushed you towards him practically forcing you.

you saw him walking up to you and he smiled. “hi y/n what happened?” you smiled and finally just blurted it out. “do you wanna be my date for prom?” you reached into your pocket and pulled out a keychain. “you have anakin, i have padmé” you showed him. he looked around the hall but nobody was there. “Am i being pranked?” he frowned and sighed. “what no, why would you think that?”.

“because you’re pretty and one of the most popular girls in school, i thought i was just your new charity case” he looked at you and your heart shattered how could he think you were that shallow. “im just surprised that a girl like you would like a guy like me”

“your handsome and smart and charming. that’s why i like you.” his jaw almost dropped. “I like you to a lot y/n”. “then be my anakin at prom? uh that sounded so cringey. Go out with me?” he smiled. “yes. i would love to be your… date.”

UNEDITED AND CRAPPY CUS IM SOO TIRED BUT I JUST WANTD TO GET A MCU IMAGINE OUT. IM GONNA WORK THROUGH ALL MY DRAFTS RN.

DC SMUTS WILL BE OUT SOON INCLUDING A REQUEST I NEGLECTED ( u know who u are) CUS WRITERS BLOCK.. ITS LIKE MY SMUT WRITING SKILLS JUST DISAPPEARED??!!!!! SRRY :( 🖤💗💗

“the summer i betrayed my sister”

pov: you’re bellys hotter sister and she found out you hooked up with conrad.

“you hooked up with Conrad didn’t you y/n” my sister yelled bursting into my room, I could tell she’d been crying because her eyes were red and she looked puffy.

“belly what are talking about.?” i felt my stomach sink, she knew? but how. all i could do was pretend so i let out a dry laugh.

“i know you slept with Conrad” belly looked at me like i had just shot her in the heart.

“belly- i didn’t“ I was at a loss for words. nothing i could do would fix my mistake. it was irreversible.

“i always knew you were a liar but i never thought my sister was a whore” she yelled loud enough for the whole world to hear.

my tears began to fall. “we both were drunk and sad it meant nothing” she slapped me hard it stung. she ran into the kitchen where my mom was and i followed. before i could stop her belly declared my business out for everyone to hear.

“your perfect y/n isn’t as pure as you thought because she slept with Conrad….” my mom stopped mixing the batter and her face turned a pale white. steven glared at conrad and conrad looked as shocked as i was.

before my mom or susannah could say a word belly took out her phone and showed a photo of me leaving conrads room last night without my top on. Jeremiah…. It had to have been him. he told belly.

“she’s a slut. she couldn’t even keep her hands off conrad- even though she already had Jeremiah wrapped around her fingers”

conrad got up off the couch, my tears fell and all i felt i could do was run. so run i did.

“y/n/n wait” he grabbed his car keys and ran after me.

he grabbed my hand and kissed me and i kissed back, i had nothing left to lose. “let’s go somewhere before steven and jeremiah find us”

y’all needa read this 😩🫶🏻

after hours (chapter 4)

⯈ previous chapter : chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

⯈ pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x female!reader

⯈ summary: the nights in Gotham are always unforgiving, you, you strip for money, to feed your son and to forget some of your troubles. it's easy, it's simple until Vengeance appears in your night.

⯈ rating: mature, the good stuff starts in this chapter girlies

⯈ tw: stripping, violence, light d/s dynamic (blindfold)

⯈ word count: 6k

⯈ NOTE : the response to the story has been amazing and i'm back with another chapter long as hell, with some smut so hope you like it. tagged ❤️ : @luvmeijii - @blossomedfloweroflove - @deadflowerd - @measure-in-pain - @yuki235171 - @daryldixonstorm - @alicefallsintotherabbithole - @pop-rocks-and-skittles - @snowflames-world - @ticktikboom - @mischiefmanaged71 - @mr-robot-x - @shirukitsune - @thelastofkryze - @jimmorrison13 - @satans-butthole666 - @nowayhomerry - @loverofminesworld - @duwcsd - @lanatheawesome - @darling-imobsessed - @deadsounds-andbones - @lecterloveswill - @theoddcafe - @temptation-waits - @twinkletoes718 - @ancientimes - @binxy - @noble-rebel-heart - @verymuchsugoi - @archive504 - @jupiterredolent - @xl4ud1a - @sparrowwithaquill - @daddysfangirls - @poseidons-goddess - @kylieinwonderland - @glizzygobbla - @softpascall - @xoxoloverb - @flyforeverfree - @palladium-pineapple - @pleasantcandcandybear - @t0r - @lover4jane - @averagethottie - @janesofia7 - @sleepycatboo - @mello-d - @poseiodons-goddess - @deadsounds-andbones - @appapillowpetblogs - @tatammonita - @siriuslydestiny - @yoshinorecommends - @ummiii - @aesthetics-blue - ❤️❤️ to be added to the tag list : click here

You wait for him.

Yes, you wait for Vengeance to come back, in the semi-darkness of that luxurious garden and you don’t know how long you wait but the longer you’re alone, the more aware you become of your surroundings. It starts slowly, gradually even. First, the siren sound startles you a little bit, you swear you can hear some things falling to the ground, harshly, brutally, and then, there’s a gust of wind in your hair. Blowing the hair into your face and you move it away slightly, with one hand, with shaky fingers because you’re cold. You don’t have your shoes, you did abandon them in your failed attempt to run away and your bare feet are now wet, deep into the freshly cut grass and you probably going to catch something if you remain like this for too long.

But Vengeance asked you to wait. So you do as you’ve been told. You wait. Shaking and hoping, shaking and praying not knowing what to expect for the rest of the evening, not knowing if you’ll finally reach your bed, your home, back to your son. You were so stupid, why do you always do this at night? You have no idea, the club should have been enough, the club is somewhat safe. What if you do end up in jail?

Mind racing, heart beating almost as frantically, you think about the kiss, you cling to it, it doesn’t make any god damn sense, but it’s something grounding you, grounding you into the moment, into the present, something real, something that’s not just in your mind, something you actually shared with someone during the night. Something concrete and real, more intimate than anything share with any of your customers. It’s different. One hand finds your own lips, Vengeance, you decide, kisses as if he were only given one chance to kiss you.

***

The wait is killing you slowly. But he does appear again, and you stand a bit taller as he walks towards you and doesn’t even pause, doesn’t even stop, and grabs your left hand, growling a simple “follow me” and he leads the way back to the mansion. You fight down the urge to beg, you don’t want to see what’s left inside, and you certainly don’t want to be seen by the police.

However, you do want to follow him, you want to follow the bat so you suppose you don’t have a choice.

The party is indeed over inside, it’s a mess, it’s a filthy mess of broken glass and dollars bills, and … is that blood? It is and you don’t even flinch at the sight of it, there’s a lot, probably enough to fill up a sink and the thought is not even scary, it’s just there and you tap on his shoulder when you spot your belongings. Your dress, your coat, and your bag, which means your phone and some part of your life.

“Wait, that’s mine, let me just...”

You swear he winces a little but he lets go of you for a moment so you can grab everything, you do so as fast as you can and if you catch him looking down at the pretty dress, it doesn’t last long.

“Let’s go,” the bat mumbles and you have no choice but to follow again. You’re surprised when he leads you outside, by the front door, glad he’s holding your hand and when you spot out of the corner of your eyes the officers in uniform, you look down, at your naked feet, hoping no one will pay attention to you, that no one will ask for your name or try to interact with you.

It seems to work for the most part, you suspect it’s because of him, because of the Batman, they make way for him, make a conscious effort to avoid his path, and let him walk through and you swear you see a few people in handcuffs and sitting at the back of some cars. Where’s Natasha? You wonder if she managed to escape the madness, you’d have to check up on her at some point, you are almost certain she would have done the same for you, almost.

“What about this one?”

He stops, you stop too and you raise your head to see that you’re in front of someone not wearing a uniform, someone with glasses, and you’re pretty sure, from reading the newspaper sometimes that the black man talking about you is no other than Lieutenant Jim Gordon, a close ally to the bat.

“I’m taking care of it,” he responds and everything from his tone to his posture indicates that it’s not up for discussion. Jim however tries, arguing with a simple “she was on the scene, she might have s…”

“She didn’t. And regardless, she won’t talk to you.” There’s some ferocity to his tone, something dark and twisted and somehow protective and you suppose that it’s enough, you don’t see the look he exchanges with the Lieutenant but that seems to do the trick because Jim just sighs and motions for the both of you to get out of here. And you do, he leads the way and you follow him and you’re not even surprised when you’re standing in front of a car, black, just like the rest of him, clearly more powerful than any other car in sight. You can tell from the wheels and by the general exterior of the car.

“Get in.”

And you understand that this time again, it’s an order.

***

You don’t know where he drives you to. It’s not too far away from the mansion you’ve just visited, on the outskirts of town, deep, deep underground and you are a little bit startled as the car seems to reach a large platform and you go down. An elevator, you realize a second later, to be away from everything and everyone.

You wonder how many people got to come here, how many people does he bring here? Probably not too many, probably not too many lost souls in Gotham, anyone sane would have run away, would have preferred the police over the bat, but ironically, you don’t feel in danger.

When he gets out of the vehicle, he doesn’t seem to pay attention to you for a while. He moves, swiftly in the semi-darkness and turns on a few lights, giving the atmosphere an eerie look, with a halo of blue that surrounds everything. Or maybe it’s because of all the computers and the monitors playing some kind of video… the streets of Gotham you gather as you step out of the vehicle. You leave your belongings in his car and you step inside his cave? his lair? barefoot, jacket on your shoulders, still wearing nothing underneath it but your stripper outfit, hair pushed to one side of your face. You can feel some of your makeup sliding off your skin and you wonder what you look like.

It doesn’t matter now, you take a few timid steps inside, towards him, he’s removing his cape you realize, and slowly, piece by piece, his armor. You wonder if he will take off his mask.

He doesn’t but the armor goes away, leaving him with what you could only describe as a black wet suit, all tight and still menacing as the previous armor. He doesn’t look less large or less frightening, this is just another side of him.

He’s showing you his back and you stop staring and look around. The streets of the city appear busy on the screens, and he has a bed on the corner of the room, it’s just a king-size mattress on the floor but it’s made nonetheless, with more pillows than you could ever imagine there’s even a fridge. That is really a cave.

“What were you doing there?”

The bat is whispering and yet it’s almost as if he had screamed the question right into your heart, it echoes all around you and you can’t help but feel this wave of guilt washing over you. That’s new, you stopped feeling guilty for your mistakes when you realized they paid your rent and put food on the table.

“Working. Dancing. It’s Friday night… what’s a girl supposed to do, right?”

You play it off but you’re still shaking, you wish you were better than this, you wish Bruce had shown up and you wouldn’t be having this conversation with the bat. It’s more a scolding than a conversation.

“You seem to be attracting only the company of known felons and their associates.”

“Well, if you know anyone else who’s ready to pay upfront for a lapdance in Gotham, call me, in the meantime, it’s the kind of people I have to deal with.”

“You don’t have to, you choose to.”

“Don’t… don’t do that, don’t act like this is all black and white, right or wrong,” you start, wishing he would just turn around and actually look at you, like you were actually there and not just a ghost. “I do my job, I get paid, I take care of the people depending on me… I thought at least you could understand that.”

He turns at that, he finally looks at you, still wearing his mask, more vulnerable without the armor, you don’t know who’s behind the layers of darkness, behind the violence and the righteousness. You don’t know and you should be scared, that’s not what’s moving you right now.

“I do understand, it’s still not safe.”

“What you do isn’t safe either, who’s worrying about you?”

You don’t control the words and you certainly don’t control what you do next, he seems to have the same idea because you meet in the middle, you crash into his chest, your hands meeting muscles, his on your hips and you look up. Still, so much unknown, still so many questions you want to ask, but you don’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that, not when it’s clear you’re both broken pieces of something that was destroyed a long time ago.

“Kiss me again,” you hear yourself whisper.

And he complies without a single trace of hesitation. The bat kisses you again, and it’s as intense as before, it’s rough when his mouth meets yours, he presses his gloveless hands into your back and you shiver as he peels the jacket away from your shoulders and he finds your skin. His hands are warm and you’re so cold, so cold and you need all of him. That’s the only thought on your mind as you make yourself taller, on your tiptoes to meet him with the same intensity, your lips moving in unison with his and finding everything in that embrace.

You gasp and you moan softly against him, arms around his neck the very next second and you think your knees are going to give away, but he’s here. He’s right there, he circles your waist and so easily, he picks you up from the ground and leads the way. You kiss everything that you can reach while he drags you to his bed, his chin, the corner of his mouth, his lips, his jawline, you want everything, you want to map out everything you can see and you can reach, just to play it in your head over and over, every night until your mind goes either crazy or blank. You suck on his Adam’s apple last, because why not that’s something you can reach too, and the strangled sound he makes leads you to believe he wasn’t expecting that, not at all. You want to hear that sound again, you want to drive Vengeance insane, but before you can do that, he lays you down on the mattress and next thing you know, he’s on top of you once more.

Except the dance is very different this time, you part your legs so easily and he fits in between them like he was meant to be there, you circle his waist with your legs and your lips meet again. It’s a discovery and yet again, your entire body shiver, yet again, you move when he moves, following his lips on your lips, his chest pressed against yours, one of his hand in your hair and the other one on your hips, trying to hold your down. Because you’ve never felt more alive than right now and you are trying to wrap all of you around all of him, and you need more. You need to see him, you need to see his skin and sink your teeth into it, mark him like he’s marked you, and then move on.

You claw at the suit he still has on, you’re more exposed than him and that’s not fair but he grabs your hands, slowing you down in a way and you exchange a puzzled look. He moves away from the bed next and you moan in protest, only to have him, the bat, come back to you, holding something in his hands. It takes you a few seconds of breathing harshly and loudly to realize that he has a scarf in hand and softly, still with that low voice of his, he asks you to close your eyes.

You could say no, you know you have the option but you don’t want to come down from that high and you nod and finally close your eyes. He moves you so slowly on the mattress and next thing you know, the soft fabric is on your face, covering your eyes and he ties a simple knot at the back of your head, still strong and you’re blindfolded, completely in the dark this time.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

Your reply is instant, almost too instant however you feel more at ease now that you’ve ever been with any of your previous partners, you figure.

You don’t know why, the darkness doesn’t scare you and you can hear him, right above you, breathing as hard as you, and you slowly raise one hand to his chest, his heart is beating as fast as yours. Is he scared? Excited? Anxious? You suppose it’s a combination of all of that, slowly, you continue to touch, you continue to map out your surroundings, of him, right above you and you gently trace the line of his neck. You feel the bat swallow and you make a point of making your touch gentle right there because he has nothing to fear, absolutely nothing to fear.

You feel him relax, right there, and you continue your exploration. Again, it’s that jawline, strong and defined. You’ve learned to identify it and you trace it as well with your fingertips and you hear his breath quicken before you can feel it. You keep going up, to both of his cheeks, you trace the cheekbones and as you go up, tracing his nose completely, you realize that the mask is off. It makes you smile, he can probably see it and you don’t stop there, he closes his eyes for you as you gently touch them too, and then his eyebrows, his forehead, and his hair. It’s him, it’s all of him, you don’t get to see yet but in a way you do, in a way you get to know him behind the mask. Not just darkness, not just Vengeance, just a man.

It shouldn’t be this enticing but it is and you guide him to you for a kiss, it’s slower this time, there is less urgency, you get to explore and map out his mouth, his lips in a way you haven’t done before. And not seeing anything, makes the experience ten times more real, more present. You hear everything single sound and intonation he makes softly as if he was kissing for the first time and being surprised and delighted by the comfort and the warmness of it all, there’s his body pressed against yours, all muscles and if he should feel heavy, it doesn’t, you love the weight, that slow ache and you know you’re going to miss it the next night, that and his perfume. It’s sweat, tears, and blood and something else, something just him. He guides your hands during the next long and intense series of kisses, to the zipper of his suit and you help him strip down as much as you can.

He’s away for a few moments, your air is just yours and it’s not a pleasant sensation, you’re glad when you feel him close again and you moan as you feel his naked shoulders just ready for you to trace and to explore. You do just that, you take your time again and your hands move from his shoulders to his collarbone and lower. He’s just hard lines of muscles and scars. So many scars. Some are tiny and light, others deep and long, and you don’t think you would be able to count them but you do your best to find every single one of them in the dark and give it the proper attention. He’s not completely naked you realize, he just pushed the wet suit to his hips, exposing his bare chest to you and you smile as he moans when you reach the lower part of his abdomen. He hides his face in the crook of your neck, you can feel it and you turn your head to one side, giving him the proper access, as he bruises your skin with your hips. Yes, you think, nails digging deep into the skin of his back, he’s going to leave a mark and give you something to remember him by.

He doesn’t stop there no, the sounds he makes are animalistic in a way, they make your stomach and your toes curl in a very special way and you can feel yourself getting affected by all of that attention and the sounds he makes. It gets worse, or is it better, when the bat moves from your neck to your own collarbone and then lower, to your chest. Your outfit is not hiding much and you swear, you can feel him look up to you before he pushes the fabric of the bra to one side and his mouth is right there, on one of your nipples. You moan, like never before, arching against his mouth, hands deep inside his hair, pulling and breathing hard. You can’t see anything but you feel everything, and you can picture it, him lapping at your chest like it’s going to give him the meaning of life itself. “You taste so good,” he whispers against your skin and you think you’re going to die right here and now because you’ve never heard anything hotter in your entire life.

You stay there on this mattress with him, burying both your hands deep inside his hair and you can’t do anything else but moan as he explores and his mouth roams on your skin, kissing and tasting anything he wants. Your other nipple gets the same treatment and he makes a low sound, coming from deep in his throat that it shadows the rest and the way you’re shivering and the way you want him so badly. His mouth trails between your chest and to your stomach and with any other man, you’d be self-conscious, about the fact that you’ve had a baby and that you’re not as pretty as you used to be, not tonight, tonight you feel like a fucking goddess. Especially when he finally comes back to your face, kissing you hard again, stealing all your air, and pinning you so forcefully to the mattress that all you can feel, hear and breathe is just him. And you want nothing else, you cling to his shoulders for dear life and you let him kiss you, let him crush you completely, and when you feel his hardness pressed against you, against your inner thigh, you can’t fight down the urge to grind against it, against him.

You’re rewarded by another series of low sounds and kisses, as you move and if it’s supposed to stop you, it’s quite the opposite. Your hips meet his easily in this position and you can’t help but smile when he shifts his body to rub right against your thin underwear the right way the very next moment, clearly in need of a release. You want that and so much more and your press your feet on his lower back and you encourage him and you moan loudly as you feel his teeth sink into your neck. It’s not too hard, it’s perfect and if you do bleed, you’re glad, you’re glad he’s taking exactly what he needs from you, and from no one else. It’s almost as if you were one, almost, there’s no rhythm, no sense of logic as you move together, shivering because of the friction between your two bodies, needing more, wanting more. He could push the underwear to the side and take you right there and right and you would let him. Just like that, blindfolded, arms around his neck, legs around his waist, it’s all you need really.

You can tell he is close by his labored breathing and his erratic movements and you kiss him right before he reaches bliss, you manage to grab his face and plant your mouth against his and you feel him break above you, break and moan into your mouth, shivering against you and finally, finally, giving some sense to your night.

You don’t even mind that the bat collapses on top of you or that it’s still dark. You don’t mind.

***

You eventually fall asleep with Vengeance partly still on you. Still breathing on top of you. With the blindfold still on. You don’t know what to say, you don’t know what you’re supposed to say but you do feel better. At peace in a way, it’s still dark all around you, it’s still night outside.

Except you’re not alone.

He’s with you.

And you fall asleep on that thought alone.

You do wake up moving, you frown and you have one hand to your eyes, rubbing them slowly and it gives you enough time to feel the kiss he presses to your forehead and to slowly take into account the fact that you’re not in his bed anymore. Leather seat, probably his car, and … you’re wearing something. That definitely wakes you up and you can’t help but smile fondly when you take in the GCPD shirt that you are wearing, a bit too large for you, same for the pants. Your belongings are in a bag by your feet and when you turn your head to the right, you can see the bat driving.

The mask is back on, as well as the suit, and the full armor, and more than ever, he seems unreachable. Unbreakable. Too powerful to be touched by anyone, let alone by you.

He’s staring ahead as you make your way back up and when you’re finally outside, you glance ahead as well, staring at the Gotham skyline and the sudden truth that the night has ended. It’s the early morning now, it’s probably 4 or 5 am and you can’t help but sigh deeply. Back to reality, it is.

He drives fast, too fast, you should say something but you don't. You should probably say goodbye when he stops in front of a station, but you don’t. You don’t know what to say, the night has been long, and ended up on a high note, you wish you didn’t have responsibilities and you could just lean in, kiss him and ask for another night like this. You don’t, when the car finally comes to a halt, you stare at each other for too long and when you can see him opening his mouth, you nod no.

You don’t want to hear any apologies, you don’t want him to ask you if you’re okay or to tell you that last night shouldn’t have happened or it was a one-time thing. He can’t predict that, the bat has shown you another side of him last night and you’re going to be greedy when the next night comes. It’s all you can say for now.

“Come find me some time, okay?”

You leave him with that and a nod and finally, grabbing everything you own, you exit the car. And you do your best not to look back.

The trip back home is quicker than expected. You keep replaying last night in your mind, him on top of you, the bat groaning in your ear, biting your neck… and it’s all so much that you almost miss your stop but finally, you’re there.

Eventually, you’re in front of your own apartment door, about to turn the key in and you decide that lying will be the best policy for your mother and your son. Tell them that Bruce never showed up, that you spent the night with friends and you forgot the time because you finally had some time with other adults. That seems reasonable enough.

And you’re not going to think about Batman.

Not at home.

Taking a final deep breath, you open the door and you creep inside. Everyone is still soundly asleep and it’s good. You go to your room as slowly and quietly as possible and finally, you take out everything that was in the bag the bat gave you. Your dress will need to be dry cleaned and as for your work outfit well… you shove it in your laundry basket with some force. Before heading to the bathroom, you let the hot water run in the shower cabin first and you glance at your own reflection.

You are… a mess. Your hair has seen better days as well as your skin in general and … you pause as you notice several bruises on your neck and a biting mark.

No, you’re definitely not thinking about that.

You hop in the shower trying to keep your mind as empty as possible and you scrub yourself as hard as you can trying to push the thoughts away. Telling yourself that you can not think of the bat here, here, you’re a mother, you’re an adult, and you do know better. Than making out with a random stranger and let him blindfold you.

Everyone is still asleep when you step outside the bathroom wrapped in a towel and you head for your bedroom, getting into some comfortable pajamas and doing your best to fall asleep.

It does work and your son is the one to wake you up a few hours later. He wants to know everything about the opera and apparently, his grandma made pancakes. You have no choice but to follow, with a yawn, grateful for the hugs and for the food you see when you step into the kitchen.

“Long night? I didn’t even hear you coming in,” comments your mother.

And for the most part, you hide in your coffee and your food, because you’re tired and it’s not because you’re good at lying to them that you enjoy it. But they do seem to buy it, your silly little excuse and Bruce not showing up, your son seems disappointed for a minute or two and you change the subject to what you are going to do this weekend instead of dwelling on that. Your mother stares at you for a bit too long but she remains silent for the most part, only joining in to remind your son of his homework and the fact that no, you can’t skip church yet again on Sunday.

As if God were about to save you. As if.

***

For the most part, you do a pretty good job of not thinking about the bat. A very good job, it’s only when you curl up in bed that Saturday evening that he lingers into your thoughts and you can’t help but press your own fingers to your neckline, wishing he were here.

A silly thought. That you push away. You also fight the urge to go down to the club, deciding that you really need to stay out of trouble, for your own good.

And you absolutely do not think about Bruce Wayne at all.

That is except for his insistent calling. It starts after breakfast, the very same morning after the bat drops you off. You miss his calls simply because you’re watching TV and your phone is in another room, abandoned. A few hours later, you have a few missed calls from the Wayne, a few…

And really, you get it, he didn’t promise anything and he is a very busy man, you’re just not in the right headspace to answer. Except that he does call again a few hours later. And again. You should probably do something about it but you decide to turn your phone off.

It’s silly, you’re being stupid, but you simply don’t know what to say. Oh yeah no, it’s okay you canceled what I thought was going to be a date, I just ended up kissing Gotham’s vigilante instead… anyway, how was your weekend? Promised or not, you do feel guilty, and the last thing that you want to hear is Bruce, being perfectly reasonable, a gentleman even, and letting you off the hook.

So you don’t answer, you don't plan to, you help your son with his homework, you even make an appearance at church with your mother that Sunday and you do not think about it at all. Bruce or Vengeance, you don’t trust your mind or your heart, either way, to do anything about it.

***

So another week rolls in, and suddenly it's Monday.

Suddenly you're back at your day job and that afternoon is even more boring than usual, you sit behind the counter of the small shop, selling candies to kids and beers to people who should probably be working harder than you. You don't care, you're getting paid and you're being safe. It starts pouring down rain eventually, like it always does in this goddamn town and you turn on the TV to drown the sound. Except that you almost drop a bottle of water that you were handing to a customer when you spot the bat, Vengeance himself on TV. It's just a blurry picture, and it's followed by a journalist, informing the viewers of Batman's latest antics and how he helped the police over the weekend to put some hard felons behind bars. Apparently, they were having the party of the century.

It sends a chill down your spine, an actual one, knowing you were so close to the action, you were so close to being caught yourself and it could have all ended right there and then.

This is why you're not calling Bruce back, he is good in a way, almost too good, he has a future ahead of him, you? You're not so sure, the last thing you want to do is taint him. So you sigh and you turn off the TV and you focus on the rest of the shift. You start cleaning to keep yourself busy and when your colleague shows up for his night shift, he is impressed, you must have been either really bored or really motivated. His words, not yours, you needed to focus on something that was not you for a few hours and you shrug, wish him a good night, and head home.

It's still raining when you step out, it's light, so light, in fact, you could believe it was not in fact raining but your face gets damp in a matter of minutes and you accelerate your pace, you just want to curl up on the couch and listen to your son tell you about his day, his perfect day. That's all that you need at the moment. The only thing you can think about so you really don't expect the black familiar car parked in front of your building, and you certainly do not expect the door to open as you approach the building and you certainly do not expect to see Bruce stepping out of his car, eyes on you.

“Hello,” he offers with one of his hesitant smiles and you don't know what to say for a few seconds. Your right hand is on the door, you're ready to go home and forget about the world, but he's here. A few days late, you can't help but think and you want to roll your eyes at yourself, because you have no reason to be upset with him, especially with how you did occupy your time in his absence.

"Hello," you whisper back, he probably didn't hear it. But he makes a step in your direction regardless, always, wearing black, the jacket he currently has on is too big for him and you suddenly wonder if he owns anything in his size. He looks so... lost? Out of place? With his baggy clothes and the damp black hair stuck on his face and his eyes glued on you.

"Is this a bad time?" Bruce asks out loud and you nod no before you realize it, you force yourself to take a deep breath and let go of the handle, stepping in his direction. Back into the cold and back into the rain, somehow, it doesn't feel like that. "I just thought... because you didn't text me back..."

"I've been busy," that's a bald-faced lie and if he suspects it, he doesn't interject, doesn't protest, it's his turn to nod and your eyes remain on him as you watch the gears turn and he makes his own reflection. He looks at his shoes, then backs up at you, frowning slightly. His face is so open, so earnest, that you can see he clearly is confused by your answer and maybe hurt, why is Bruce so easy to read? That's a question for another moment, he's about to open his mouth and you interrupt him.

"Don't, don't apologize, you're a busy man, I get it, it wasn't that important.

"It was." He interjects, sounding dead serious. "Let me make it up to you."

"That's not..."

“Please?"

He asks simply, he begs even and it's not the word itself that stuns you, but everything it seems to carry, Bruce's intense gaze is still on you, you didn't even realize he took another step in your direction, didn't realize that you could actually push the hair away from his face from that distance and you do it before you can stop yourself, because there is no way he can see you properly and it's such a contrast to... the rest of your life. It's not messy, it's not complicated, he clearly is sorry, and he apparently wants to spend time with you, no lies, no darkness, no mask, just him.

"Okay, fine, we can do a do-over, but no opera, something simple, if you can think of simple," you joke at the end to lighten the mood and because he can't keep staring at you like that, you might ask him to do it all night long if he keeps going.

"Something simple, yes, I'll text you."

"And I'll answer this time."

He nods, it feels like a goodbye and before you can say the word, Bruce leans in, and he plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth. It's quick, it's sudden, it's over before it even began, and just like that, he flashes you a smile and climbs back into your car. Did you... did you just agree to actually have an actual date with him? While you recently spent the night in Gotham's vigilante lair? Yeah, you think as you finally push the door, there is something wrong with you.

BETTER OFF

Anthony Bridgerton x reader (enemies to lovers)

A/n: This is not my first writing on this blog but it is significantly longer and perhaps written better. I want this to be a series so let’s see how popular this will get.

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton married you out of convenience and duty, hoping to suppress your outward personality over time. His efforts are in vain and getting worse as he begins feeling something more for you. Perhaps you are beginning to feel it as well.

Word count: 1668

You had tried. Truly, you had. It seemed as though avoiding the dance floor was close to impossible. Though you had expected nothing less, you were married to a bridgerton. The Viscount to be precise and the way he looked at you as you both glided across the dance floor was so forced that it made you visibly upset. “You could at least smile.” Anthony spat, noticing the slight scowl on your face. He was not the only one to notice, following his eyes you spotted a few guests whispering and gossiping, no doubt about you and your husband, their eyes nowhere but on you both. You shot the man dancing with you an annoying look and there was something in his eyes that made you give in, sporting a lovesick gaze and a blissful smile. “Better?”

“Quite so. Though, I hope you have not forgotten your duty as my wife.” If not for being in public, you would have groaned at the comment. Despite being married for only a few months, you were not as happy as you had thought. The moment is still fresh in your mind. It had been a quiet afternoon when it happened. Being in your first season, you were surprised when none other than the Viscount Bridgerton called upon you. Just the night before his mother had announced rather loudly that it was also during this season that he intended to marry. You’d watched him from the crowds and caught sneaky glances as you danced with other lords and earls much older than you. Finally, you’d found a moment to yourself, making way to the refreshment table. The single glass of champagne did little to steady you. Your father had insisted that you attend that night's ball and mingle. You argued with him to simply stay home and write in your notebook filled to the brim with your spontaneous drabble. He vehemently refused, telling you that it was your first season and that you needed to make an appearance.

“Do try not to drink it all in one go.” You heard a voice say, looking next to you to find that it belonged to one Lord Bridgerton. Of course, you knew who he was, the entire ton did. “Apologies, my lord. I did not hear you approach.” He seemed to assess you, his eye wandering your body. It made you slightly uncomfortable, though you would not allow him to see it. “It is quite alright. I must say, miss, you look a bit uneasy.” At that moment you wished you’d had a fan on your person. “I assure you it is not due to your presence. It’s just..” You trailed off, your eyes looking to the masses in the ballroom as your finger mindlessly tapped your glass. “It is just what?” He prompted, not sounding at all impatient with you. You looked into his eyes and sighed. “I despise these gatherings.” You admitted. The Viscount looked amused. His lips quirked up into a smile. “Is it not your first season?” He jested. At the question, you raised an eyebrow at him. “How did you-“

“Forgive me if I seem to be coming off a bit odd. I witnessed you as you arrived and made the decision to ask around about you.”

“A bit odd indeed, My Lord.” You retorted.

“Do not take offense. I only took such action because you are.. a mystery to me. Unlike most of the girls of the ton.”

“You do not know a young lady so you set out to gather any and all information on her? Am I too far off as to assume this is how you begin to court women?” His jaw fell slack and his mouth parted slightly. He hadn’t the slightest idea what to say. Little did you know, you had already checked many of his boxes. After a moment, he let out a defeated laugh. “Again I mean no offense.” He repeated, now wearing a confident smirk. You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him. “And I do not mean offense when I say this, my lord,” The Viscount raised an amused eyebrow. “You would do good to find a more effective way to impress a woman. Your tactic thus far is far too distasteful.” With that, you bunched the fabric of your silk dress in your hand after finishing your champagne. “I wish you luck on any future endeavors. I shall bid you goodnight.” Thankfully your father had witnessed the ordeal and was more than happy to allow the two of you to leave early as he had already begun to see the Viscount as a son in law. From that moment on, He had tried at every turn to court you. It began with him calling on you the next morning and soon developed into inviting you and your father to bridgerton house for tea. During which, you had become quite close with his siblings. You became quick friends with Eloise, bonding over your ‘radical’ ideas, You and Benedict had clicked due to his love for art and your affinity for poetry, you and Daphne had charming conversations over tea when she would visit and little Gregory and Hyacinth were quite literally obsessed with you. You’d much rather spend time with them than the man trying his best to court you, much to your father's frustration but Eloise and Benedict seemed to enjoy their eldest brother get rejected by you time and time again. One morning, shortly after breakfast, Lord Bridgerton called upon you whilst you were scribbling away in your notebook. You closed the leather-lined object as he entered and he made his way to you, purpose and determination in his eyes. “Miss Y/L/N,” He began, his voice even as he dropped to one knee. The action caused you to jump slightly. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my Viscountess?”

The way he spoke the words enticed you to say no, as you had done since the two of you had met. Unfortunately for you, your father stood on the frame of the door, watching you intently. Internally, you recall that you’d raged. Though in reality, you feigned a smile and said the word that sealed your fate. “Yes.”

It was quite the ordeal you’d gotten wrapped into. The Viscount noticed your bluntness and rebellious nature upon meeting you but considering you met most of, if not all, of his criteria, he figured he could tame you with time. He had since had no such luck with the endeavor. The Ball was long over and you two shared a mutual silence in the carriage home. “I feel I must remind you—“

“You do not.” You said quickly, cutting him off before he could speak. “Do not lecture me on how to be a dutiful wife, I assure you I am well aware thanks to your reminders.”

“Then of course you must be aware that as a wife, your display tonight was improper.”

“Do not tell me what is and is not proper!” You’d been so swept up in your argument you’d almost forgotten that your in-laws were also in the carriage with you. Violet, as she insisted you call her, looked taken aback. “Apologies.” You mumbled, turning your eyes to look out the window. When you finally arrived back at Bridgerton house, the nightly routine began. You went your separate ways, The Viscount to his office and you to the bedroom you shared. It certainly never felt that way. He would only join you long after you were asleep and left before you could wake. By now, you were used to it.

A knock came on your door as you were brushing your hair. You only hummed in response and you spotted Benedict enter the room. A look of shock washed over your features. “Benedict!”

“Good evening, Y/N. I’m hope I am not-“

“You are not. Please, sit.” You set your brush on the desk of your vanity as Benedict sat in a chair only a few feet from the bed. You remained seated, beginning to braid your hair. Benedict seemed to be at a loss of words. “Are you alright?” He asked, concern dripping from his words. You smiled softly and shook your head. “I am fine.” You lied. You hadn’t been fine since your wedding. “We all see it you know. Try as he might, my brother is not as skilled as he thinks of concealing his emotions.” Over time Benedict truly had become a brother figure to you. You would often sit together when your husband was busy (which was often) and Eloise was otherwise unavailable. He would occasionally give you advice as best he could on how to appease his brother but to no avail. Still, you enjoyed his company. “Your brother still believes he can tame me as if I am some wild animal.” You fussed with the ribbon meant to be tied around the end of your braid. Benedict stood and kneeled in front of you, and you in turn let him work his magic. “I would have been better off if I had said no.” You were not entirely sure if that was true. You could not deny that at least your husband was young and easy on the eyes, despite his continued attitude. “Do you also mean to say that you would have been better off not growing close to us?” He mused, tying the ribbon tightly around your hair. “Of course not, Ben.” You began, “I love you all deeply, but he is… he’s—“

“Stubborn?”

“Not the word I had in mind, but yes.”

Benedict returned to his seat, dragging a hand down his face. “Nothing I say will sway him, try as I might. Perhaps in time, the two of you will lower your weapons and become friends.”

You scoffed at the thought. It was amusing, you and The Viscount exchanging banter in a friendly manner. “If you say so. Friends.”

unfinished but cured my daddy issues, Ben affleck >>

You Can Call Me Bruce...(Part V)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Warnings: Age gap, mild swearing (? I think?)

Previous Parts: I, II, III, IV

Dedicated to: everyone who stuck by this story. I apologize for this much delayed update, things had been hectic up until a few days ago, but I’m back now. 

I haven’t tagged anyone in particular because I’ve gone too long to even remember those who requested (please don’t throw rocks), but feel free to inbox and remind me for the next installment–which, most likely, will be the last.

                                                  ~*~*~*~

“You wanted to see me?” Bruce asks.

He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, using his best Batman impression to try and ward off all thoughts that he’s scared. He isn’t scared. He could never be scared. By even harboring such feelings from the start, Bruce knew that it would come to this, and he’s not scared at all because he’s prepared.

He’s prepared to hear Alfred’s disdain.

He’s prepared for judgmental stares and disguised accusations; for wrathful scolding, for raised voices. He’s even ready for things to get physical, worst comes to worst, and Bruce promises he’ll let Alfred win, for he truly deserves all of it what shall be thrown at him.

“Take a seat.” The older man finally speaks, back to the door as he stands at the sink. Water drips from the faucet, drop after drop. It echoes into the otherwise silent room. Bruce moves.

He seats himself at the counter, steepling his hands on top, and with a deep breath, the butler finally turns. Their gazes meet.

“Master Wayne.” He says; to Bruce, it always sounds like a hello or a good morning . Familiar. Routine. Hearing it uttered now with such venom is almost painful.

“You’re quite punctual for things like these.”He says

“Things like what, Alfred?”

“As if you don’t know.”

A silence.

The two friends stare at each other. Neither speaks. Wind whistles through the room, and they sit, reading the lines and wrinkles and creases carved in their faces from all the battles they’ve faced together.

So many.  And saying Bruce doesn’t feel his heart wrench even a little would be a lie.

Alfred is his best-friend. Alfred has always been his best friend. More than anything, he’s almost been like a father to him, and facing him in such a rancorous environment is sickening.

He wants to get up and run away, he now realizes. He wants to elude this conflict. Avoid it. Bury it. If you asked him a second ago if he was afraid, Bruce would have said no, would’ve scoffed at the mere preposition. If you asked him now, he’d say the same thing…

Because he wasn’t afraid.

He was mournful.

Mournful that it had come to this; mournful that he was sitting here, in this kitchen, about to be forced to pick a fight with his best-friend.

“You say you don’t know,” Alfred begins. “…and yet here you sit, wearing that very same scowl of intimidation you give the joker.”

“Is that supposed to make me mad.” Bruce retorts. His voice is harsh,stoic.

He watches the older man’s eyes. And then they soften.

And then Bruce feels a vein in his neck twitch, but he can’t do anything about that, not now. Instead he focuses on Alfred, who just as much is trying to shutter his emotions. This is hard for him too. How can it not be? The two of them are family. To Bruce, Alfred is his only family, and knowing that only makes it harder to pull through.

“Master Wayne…”Alfred says, raising himself to his feet as he saunters over to the sink. The faucet drips and drips in the hanging silence, taunting Bruce.  “I’ve known you all your life. I’ve known you since you were just a boy and I’ve seen you grow. Seen you through all your trials and tribulations, your successes, your failures. I’ve watched become batman and save Gotham and in all that time, I’ve never asked for much.” He pauses, eyes searching, searching desperately for any form of surrender in Bruce’s feature’s.

But he won’t let him have it.

Bruce clenches his jaw. It feels like his teeth just might shatter from the pressure.

“But I ask you now.” He continues.  “Please. Let this one go.”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Alfred.”

“I don’t want to see you going Y/N again, you hear me? I don’t want to even see the two of you in the same room.” He’s straight to the point, not sparing Bruce of the bluntness, and it cuts him like a knife. He tries not show it, clenching his jaw further.

“She’ll be leaving soon.” Alfred continues. “A week. A week and she’ll be gone, and until then I want you to put an end to whatever is going on.”

“Nothing is going on.” Bruce’s voice is leveled and yet firm. Authoritative, like he is a captain ordering his cadet. He can see the scorn, evident and dripping from his features, in Alfred’s face as he scowls.

“Don’t be daft, boy..” he grits. “I saw you, I saw the two of you in your room—“

“We weren’t doing anything!”

“So you mean you were just talking as you said?”

“Yes, Alfred.”

“You mean she was just telling you about her work?”

“Yes!”

“You mean you didn’t try to kiss her?” He bellows, angry, exasperated.

All the blood drains from Bruce’s face.

His skin goes white, as white as snow, as white as the age painting Alfred’s hair. He can feel it: the embarrassment, as now the unspoken is vocalized, the other shoe has dropped. Bruce gulps thickly, and then averts his gaze, breaking his poker face.

“You mean I’m making this up?” Alfred continues. “You mean I didn’t walk in on you ready to soil her innocence.”

“Stop talking like she’s a child.” A vein in Bruce’s neck pops angrily as his fists clench. He knew this was coming right from the start, but hearing it out loud makes him freeze, makes his stomach feel like molten tar. God, how embarrassing. How incriminating.

“Compared to you she is. Compared to you she might as well be in diapers. Age regardless, sir, you’re older. You’re older in soul and you’re older in mind. You’ve seen things….terrible things. That in itself would mark you as ancient, even if you were clocking thirty.”

“You think I don’t know this, Alfred? I do. Goddamn it, I do.” He does. This is why Bruce never wanted this—this is why he kept it hidden away, locked up like a vile and sinful thing that it was; but now it’s out in the open and he feels exposed, vulnerable. They’re telling him things he already knows.

They’re telling him things he doesn’t want to know because knowing them makes him feel even worse. He doesn’t want that and God, he doesn’t want this to be happening but it is and…

“Act like it. You’re not a child.”

Bruce lifts his gaze. “What do you think I plan on doing Alfred? Hmm? Do you think I want to get in her pants?”

“What other motive do—“

“What do you mean what other motive—“

“What is going on?” A voice cuts through their bickering, confused and harried.

Both of them freeze. Bruce feels his heart, formerly rampant and rapidly beating in his chest, still, and he doesn’t want to look, but at the same time it’s tempting because it’s her.

Y/N.

Y/N, standing in the doorway.

Y/N, estranged and weary.

Finally, he gives in and Bruce’s eyes dart to her, raking over her face.  She looks to him. “What’re you two doing?” The young girl asks. “Why are you arguing like this?”

Aflred, standing by the sink, lets his hands slowly lower and unclenches his fist. He swallows. “Y/N….” He admonishes. “Stay out of this.”

“Like I hell I will, Uncle Fred. I just walked in on the two of you nearly tearing each other’s fucking throats out and you think I’m going to let this go?”

He clenches his jaw. “It’s none of your business.”

“Except it is.”

“Y/N.” Bruce cuts through the growing argument, earning the pair’s attention. Y/N’s eyes flare with irritation and the next thing he knows she’s up in his face, but a few inches away.

“You…”The young girl sneers. “What the hell are you doing arguing with him? He’s your family—you’re both each other’s family! You’re not supposed to be spewing hate at each other like this, for Christ sake.”

“You have no right to interrupt like this.” Says Alfred.

Y/N scoffs and rolls her eyes, about to speak, but she’s cut off.

“Go to your room!” He commands, voice dressed in sternness, authoritativeness that Bruce hasn’t heard in so long. He used to use that tone with Bruce when he was just a child, when they’d get into an argument about him disrespecting Alfred or when there needed to be some disciplinary ground rules. It had once been frightening. Hearing it now, however, Bruce feels nothing but scorn well up within him.

His fists clench at his sides as a protectiveness takes over him, and the next thing he knows, he’s standing in front of Y/N, shielding her from her livid uncle. Just to keep from things getting ugly, but he hears something sift behind him. When he turns around, Y/N is glaring at him bitterly, stepping out from behind his burly form with an offended expression marring her features.

“I don’t need you protecting me.” She says, like she’s angry, like him trying to help her is almost as bad as Alfred’s rage. “I’m not a baby anymore. I don’t need you trying to treat me one, Uncle Fred—and I don’t need you trying to stick up for me when I can do it perfectly fine on my own.”

“I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”

“This is outrageous! Both of you,” Alfred cuts in, and then all hell breaks loose, because Y/N starts to argue with him.

Bruce watches from the sidelines, amazed and frightened. It’s a vicious battle. Words fly from person to person, pure venom, bitter, angry. Y/N brings up their family and how everybody still sees her as a baby, and Alfred retaliates by reminding her off all the bad decisions she’s made that have caused that. He’s yelling, going red in the face. It isn’t until he hears a small sniffle that Bruce realizes Y/N is crying.

“Huh, see that—grown girls don’t cry when you tell them the truth!” Alfred yells.

“Shut up! J-just…just shut up.” Y/N drags her hand across her face, trying to dry her eyes but instead smearing her makeup. The entire image is terribly morbid. Her face is red and blotchy, and there are dark trails of mascara running down her cheeks. She’s crying, sobbing, hiccupping and grappling for air to feel her lungs.

Bruce can’t take it.

“Enough, Alfred!” He cuts in, stepping in front of the young girl. This time Y/N doesn’t shove him out of the way; instead, she cowers behind him, accepts his protection, like a weak dog.

He’s shielding her like a large building, sturdy and strong and trying his ebst not to throw a fist into the elder-man’s jaw. “Jesus, Alfred, you didn’t have to be so harsh. What’s wrong with you?”

“I can’t do this master Wayne!” Alfred’s voice is leveled, dangerously low. He has calmed. The vein in his neck has gone back into hiding, but even then, his face is still the color of blood.

“I’m going to make it easy for all of us; either I go, or she does.”

“What?” Both Bruce and Y/N say in unison, before he cans art to feel it. It takes moment. A second. Then it sets in, the realization of what he’s saying.

A pang of pain shooting through him like an arrow, Bruce feels his body go cold.

Alfred’s eyes hold a pain similar to his that say that this isn’t easy for him either. This isn’t what he wants. But what other choice does he have?

“You heard, master Wayne.” The elder man tries to coat his voice with a strength that betrays him when it almost cracks. “It’s either I stay, or she does.”

“Alfred…”

“This entire situation has gone too out of hand. For Christ-sake, Bruce—“ Bruce. Alfred rarely—never—calls him Bruce. He has always been Master, to him. Master Wayne. Sir. Variants of a formality that have never hurt him as much as hearing his own name has now.

Memories of his boyhood flood Bruce, a time when Alfred called him that, the only time. It was so brief. He became Sir at the tender age of thirteen. Years later, and the title has been revoked.

Bruce.

“—I can’t let this happen. Do you realize how much is at stake here? Do you realize how badly the two of you would be together? Y/N, you still have your studies to tend to.”

“I know.”

“Then bloody act like it.”

“Alfred…” Bruce cuts in, and all eyes turn to him.

The room quiets momentarily.

Alfred’s eyes glaze over as he looks at him. Their gazes lock—both pained, both not wanting this to fall through. Why is he letting it, then? Why won’t Bruce just do something, he wonders, until he realizes there’s little to do.

“You have until tomorrow to choose. If you don’t have answer by dawn—” Alfred’s eyes go to Y/N. There are tears staining the apples of her cheeks. “—then I make the final decision. Y/N leaves. You own up to your mistake, and clean up this bloody mess you’ve made.” He says and then, before Bruce, or Y/n or the wind that howls through the hallway, can get anything in, he turns and leaves.

Hiss jaw clenches, and he gulps thickly. The room is silent. Footsteps are heard padding away, further and further, until the only sound left is that of Bruce’s heart wrenching in his chest. 

                                                    ~*~*~*~

Her heart hammers in her chest.

Her breath feels hot and shallow and not enough, and her skin is drained of all its blood and colorless. She’s standing outside his bedroom door. Outside she can hear the hoot of an owl and the whisper of the wind. It’s two in the morning. It’s cold and she’s scared and Y/N immediately regrets having gotten out of bed to come and do this, because nothing good can come of it.

Turn back now, her mind says. Go back to bed. Go back to silence. Don’t tell him how you feel.

But she doesn’t listen.

She knocks gingerly, but it’s feint and barely audible, so she tries once more, curling her fist tighter this time. She watches Bruce, laying in bed with his back to her, stir and then slowly sit up.

“Yeah..?” He groggily asks, rubbing his eyes.

The young girl bites her lip and wrings her hands harder together, her stomach knotting further.

She’s standing in the doorway, one hand up on the wooden frame and the other rested tenderly on the crook of her neck. Her eyes, wet and red, search the darkness for Bruce’s silhouette. He’s sitting at the edge of his bed, sleepy-eyed and dazed as he looks at her.

And y/n feels a chill run down her spine when her gaze locks onto his.

He knows.

Uncle Fred told him. Uncle Fred told him everything. Now, even just standing before him feels so shameful and embarrassing,  like she’s clad in nothing but her skin suit, like she’s exposed. Because she is. Because Bruce knows. Because….

“I thought you were asleep.” He says, pulling her from her reverie.

Y/N gulps as sweat beads at the nape of her neck. He’s awake. At least, she thinks, that spares her the task of waking him up.

“Not yet. I’m…” she stumbles. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

“Nightmares?”

“I wish.” A sardonic laugh escapes the elder man. Y/N clinches her hands tighter together. The room is dark and hot and she can feel her clothes clinging to her body like flesh to her bones.

Bruce cards a hand through his hair, tired, worn out. Even if she wanted to, Y/N wouldn’t be able to dismiss his claims of insomnia—he looks exhausted. Rings of grey brim his eyes and the light once glinting fiercely and vivacious in them has dulled down.

Bruce looks tired. Bruce is tired.

Bruce knows.

“Let’s just say I have a lot to think about.” He explains after a silence.  “That kind of things keeps you up at night, you know?”

“ I know.” She nods curtly, biting her lip. She wants to say something in response—anything—but all coherence escapes her. She’s at loss for words, because what can she say?

The bomb dropped a few hours ago still lingers in the air of the house. It’s been two hours since Uncle Fred left the house; he was emotional and angry when she went to talk to him and he ended up storming out and driving off for a drink (or twenty). Y/N doesn’t mention this to Bruce.

Instead, she tries to gather her thoughts and courage and say something, because who will if not her.

“I….” She starts. His head lifts, attention befalling the young girl.

His brow then furrows softly. “Are…you feeling okay?”

“Uh—yeah…I…I am.”

“You don’t seem like it.”

“Well, not getting any sleep will do that to you.” She quips.

He nods slowly. “Right….”

A silence hangs between them. Neither party says anything for a while, and it’s painful because she came here to speak, to tell him how she felt, to vocalize all this rampant emotion that won’t cease within her, and so Y/N forces the words out of her mouth.

“I have something to tell you.” She says.  She swallows, trying to mollify her nerves. You can do this, Y/N tells herself. You will do this.

“I…Uncle Fred told you already, didn’t he?”

Bruce is quiet.

She waits for a response, one that doesn’t come, until she has top force herself to speak up once more.

“I said Uncl—“

“I heard what you said.” He says curtly, cutting her off.

Y/N closes her mouth, and then mutters a quiet oh. Her heart is racing—God, is it racing—and her lungs constrict and the blood drains from her fingertips and from her face and from her, and Bruce is looking at her with inquisitive eyes that egg her on.

“I know that he told you—obviously. It’s uhm….it’s okay, if you know” Y/N explains, trying (and failing) to not let the desperation seep into her voice. “I wanted to tell you myself, of course, but, having somebody else do it is okay, because the outcome is still the same. You still know.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“And if I want to?”

“Then you have to stop. Just,…” Bruce sighs, eyes sliding over her face from a few inches away. The room is dim and quiet and her heart is in her throat, but it doesn’t matter, because Bruce is so close, and he knows.

“Just…”.” His voice is different, baring an edge and uncertainty that she has never witnessed before that makes things seem even more eerie. His eyes, a rich grey, bore into hers.

“Stop this, Y/N. Please. Don’t make it harder than it already is.”

“I’m not trying to.” Her eyes water and she shakes her head softly. “Bruce, I…”

“Y/N..”

They’re less than inches apart. Neither of them dare to break eye contact, only leaning closer in, and closer in, and Y/N’s eyes begin to flutter shut, and Bruce doesn’t pull away, and it feels as though the world is fragmented on a cosmic level when their lips meet.

Their mouths are pressed together, and they kiss.

They kiss.

His tongue is warm and wet as runs along her lips. Y/N gladly lets it, lifting her hand to his head to real him closer in. She presses herself flush to his form. Bruce reciprocates, cupping her face in both his hands and maneuvering his lips against hers, and—

“Bruce—“ Y/N tries to speak.

“Just stop.” His breath fans against her skin, against her nose. She lets out a breathy moan as he captures her lips once more, feeling her heart flutter like a cage of untamed birds.

Her hands slide through Bruce’s hair like water when she feels his hands leave her face and go to her waist. He hoists her up, and she jumps, wrapping her legs around him, not caring what they’re doing or what they’re about to do because, god, this feels too good.

They make their way to his bed. Fall onto it. Kiss, touch. Y/N swears that she can feel her soul floating higher and higher until it’s of her body and into the astral plane, watching their two bodies mould together upon the covers. Bruce’s hand slides beneath the fabric of her shirt and she feels a jolt of pleasure at the contact.

“Bruce…” She pants, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He dips his head and slides his lips down to her jaw, to her neck until they’re peppering desperate, wet kisses along her collarbone.  The young girl moans at the contact; her mind is fogging up like a car window on a misty evening. Fear clutches her heart in its icy talons and gives it a firm squeeze. This is wrong—God, this is all so wrong, that she’s certain of as much as she is that the sky is blue…

But Y/N doesn’t want it to stop.

                                               ~*~*~*~*~ Hopefully the wait was worthwhile lol

If you guys enjoyed this then go ahead and like, reblog or just follow to catch any more imagines I post. With my new computer finally in my possession, expect more updates and oneshots coming in.

As always, have a nice day!

THIS ATE- I literally screamed 😩

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 • dark!bruce wayne x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 • you know your best friend well enough to know that he's keeping a secret from you, you just can't figure out what— or why. but you're about to learn a lot of new things about him that you never could've imagined.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 • 4.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 • this is a DARK fic!! (noncon, slightly yandere, slightly soft!dark), smut (unwanted creampie and very slight breeding kink?), NO spoilers for the batman 2022 in this plot!!, some angst, a knife but nobody gets hurt, unrequited love (or IS IT?!), emo bruce is emo

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬, 𝐢𝐬 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲

𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

Your best friend had been acting strangely for some time now.

Though it was nothing new to see Bruce being sort of skulky and mopey— that was typical of the last twenty years without his parents— he usually wasn’t so avoidant, or hard to reach. You’d been so close your whole lives, ‘peas in a pod’ as Martha Wayne used to say, and up until somewhat recently, you saw him almost every day.

At first it was subtle, he told you he was just a little bit busier and you didn’t think much of it, you saw him less and less— and you figured it was a phase. It was May when you noticed, suddenly, that you hadn’t seen him in a week, and you couldn’t remember if that had ever happened before. By August, you realized this ‘phase’ had been much closer to indefinite than you originally expected; in September, he stood you up after agreeing to be your (platonic, obviously) date to a charity gala.

So, you were pretty done with his shit by October, when he left you on read after you inquired about holiday plans— because you always spent Thanksgiving and Christmas together, and you needed to start figuring out if you should host something at your place or if he was going to want you two to do something by yourselves.

Only a week later, you spotted him at an auction, not that you were too surprised to see him: you specifically attended because you knew he’d be there, considering a painting by Degas— which up until a few days ago hung in the parlor at Wayne tower— was on sale. For quite some time, Bruce had basically left the entire tower untouched, its gothic interior more and more like a mausoleum each day as he kept everything exactly how his parents had left it. It was a recent development that he had begun to donate old belongings and heirlooms, though you could tell from what you’d seen that he was getting rid of the stuff he’d never cared for much in the first place; he hated that Degas, he thought it was a blurry orange mess that your average kindergarten finger-painter could outclass. Honestly, you were happy he was taking control of the space, allowing himself to decide what he wanted to see in his own home every day— and the money bid on the painting would go to a fabulous cause, you just wished you didn’t have to keep tabs on him like this for only a stolen moment alone.

Quite literally stolen, actually, since he started avoiding you as soon as he spotted you at the event: you kept trying to find a good way to get to him, but then as the bidding began, he got up from his seat and started to leave. You got up to follow, and he moved faster. The bastard was literally just going to outrun you! Not about to let him get away that easy, you went backwards— around the auction room into the hallway he’d have to cross to leave. Apparently when Bruce Wayne was dodging your calls, you literally had to ambush him: you hid behind a pillar and waited for him to jog by to grab him by the sleeve and drag him into the shadows.

He yelped slightly, jerking his arm out of your grasp but trapped again by your fist snatching his lapel.

“What gives?” you hissed.

“I— I have to go,” he insisted.

“No,” you snapped. “You need to talk to me. If I’ve done something wrong, just tell me— but I’m worried about you and I need to know that you’re okay.”

“Why?” he dodged.

“I’m not letting you leave until you tell me that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled unconvincingly, and you deflated, anger sizzling out into sadness. You dropped his lapel and he relaxed slightly.

“Stop pushing me away, Bruce, please,” you breathed. “I miss you.”

He stayed stoic— of course he did— and just glanced down.

“Whatever’s going on,” you assured, “you can tell me. And if you can’t yet, that’s okay— you can tell me that, and I’ll wait. Just let me in, just a little bit? Please?”

His gaze darted around, and you reached up to rest your fingers on his jaw; that seemed to startle him slightly, but it got his attention, and you held his face to keep him looking at yours.

“Look at me,” you whispered. “It’s me, okay? Whatever it is, you’re not gonna scare me away— I’m just scared that you’re shutting me out.”

He blinked, sinking his shoulders down a bit, and exhaling sharply through his nose. “Okay,” he said softly. “You’re right, I’m sorry… we’ll talk tomorrow— come over for dinner.”

“Great,” you smiled.

“I may not be able to tell you everything, right now,” he warned.

“That’s okay,” you assured, “we can just start with ironing out Thanksgiving plans.”

He smiled, barely— for a normal person, it wouldn’t mean much, but for him it was a pretty massive expression of emotion and it soothed you greatly. It wasn’t like you’d never seen him laugh until he snorted and had tears in his eyes, it’s just that you hadn’t seen him like that in probably years now. You missed those glimpses of his joy so much; you hoped this was the beginning of a return to normalcy for the two of you, and you’d have a chance to make him happy like that again.

“Now go,” you offered, stepping back a bit, “do whatever mysterious thing you need to go do.”

He gave you a quick kiss on your temple before he departed, hands stuffed into his pockets and hair already starting to fall out of the style he’d gelled it into. You watched him leave, soothed at the idea you would get your best friend back soon.

~

You glanced at the clock, again, wondering if time was standing still somehow. It was almost 9 last time you checked, and now it was still only 8:59.

Either way, it was pretty late to still be alone at the dining table when Bruce had told you to come for dinner at 7. You toyed with the bracelet around your wrist; you’d dressed pretty nice, maybe a little too nice, because it felt like you were celebrating something. Now it just made you feel even more foolish for being here by yourself.

Alfred had checked in on you a few times, each visit less optimistic than the last, and he appeared once more with a sympathetic smile on his face. “I’m sorry, dear,” he sighed, “but Mr. Wayne will likely not return in time for dinner tonight.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” you shrugged, “sorta saw it coming.”

“I can bring a car around for you?”

“Oh— no, I’ll wait,” you smiled. Alfred wrinkled his eyebrows together. “He’ll be back sometime tonight, won’t he? I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

His eyes darted around— you knew him well, he was looking for an excuse to get you to leave. Why didn’t he want you here? You were more sure than ever that Bruce had been hiding something from you by being absent for these months.

“I’m sure you have plenty to do,” you waved your hand, “I won’t keep you— you certainly don’t need to entertain me. I’ll make a visit to the library, explore a bit, and you can find me when Bruce is back, hm?”

Alfred cleared his throat. “Alright,” he decided.

When he was finally gone, you slipped out of the kitchen— but instead of going to the library, you wandered the halls much more aimlessly. Maybe you just hoped you’d find something to explain Bruce’s bizarre demeanor of late, maybe you were just killing time. He had replaced the Degas he sold at the auction with a new painting, a much more modern one you didn’t recognize; darker, abstract, a little creepy. Much more his style, certainly.

You tinkered on the piano in the parlor, admiring the view of Gotham from the window— yes, this city was filthy in a literal and metaphysical sense, but it was home, and you thought it was beautiful. There was a light mist in the air, not the heavy rain you got so often out here, and it made all the lights sparkle that much more in the deep blue night.

The distant sound of music, coming from one of the floors below, made you stop playing. It took a few moments for you to recognize the tune when it was so muffled, but the echo of the bass was familiar; Nirvana. Bruce must be home. You smirked to yourself… he was rather predictable.

You heard a door slam down the hallway, and you figured it had to be Bruce, because none of the staff would be so careless. Heavy steps started to move down across the creaky floorboards, and you silently leaned back on the bench— yes, just a few moments later, Bruce skulked by. He was wearing jeans and a baggy black t-shirt, but that didn’t give you much clue what he’d been doing since that was what he changed into the second he got home from any event that required anything nicer to be worn.

He didn’t seem to notice you, having forgotten you would be here tonight (you assumed) and not noticing you in the shadows. You thought you might just watch him until he noticed, but then you caught a glimpse of his face.

“Woah,” you chuckled, and he jumped, turning to look at you with wide eyes. “Did you just get back from a rager or something?”

“Huh?” he mumbled.

“The makeup,” you pointed to his face, and his hand shot up to wipe around his eyes. “Kinda lost control of the smoky eye, eh?”

You cringed when he started to rub his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Woah woah, hey, that’s not how you get that off,” you corrected, standing up and coming closer to grab his arm and guide it away from his face. Of course, you felt a lot more muscle under your touch than you expected; you cleared your throat as he looked down at you, eyes red from the irritation. “Let me help you, man, I’ve got micellar water in my purse.”

So yeah, that was how you ended up with cotton balls pinched between your fingers and thumb, carefully wiping the black off from around his eyes. The cleanser got the job done, but the application was so heavy that you had to go in a few times just to get it all— plus the grey-ish watery residue left behind each time you smeared a used cotton ball around.

“And then just a damp washcloth to get off the extra,” you explained under your breath as you wiped his face gently.

He looked up at you between strokes of the fabric over his face, his blue eyes especially striking when they were examining you so closely. “Why are you good to me?” he asked quietly, suddenly.

The question took you aback; it seemed so obvious that you weren’t even sure how to answer it, and at the same time it made you feel all vulnerable and warm. “I— I love you,” you insisted, “of course. Bruce, we’ve been friends longer than I can remember.”

Of course, this was not the first time you had told him that you loved him. It was also not the first time you said it somewhat strategically, so he wouldn’t realize your love for him was far greater than it was supposed to be; that being ‘friends forever’ was a compromise for you, the thing that made you happiest and broke your heart all at once.

“Gotta be careful going out to seedy parties at this hour,” you smirked awkwardly, “that’s when the bat-freak goes out and beats up random citizens. Watch your step.”

You slipped down off the bathroom counter, grabbing the used cotton balls from the edge and chucking them into a wastebin. You could feel his stare on the back of your neck; you even saw him looking at you when you checked the mirror in your peripheral vision.

“I mean, you’re not as poor and desperate as his usual fare,” you joked, “but still— watch out.”

“I’ll try,” he offered plainly after clearing his throat. “I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

You turned around and looked at him again, offering your best shrug and smile. “It’s okay. I just miss you, Bruce— I don’t understand what you’re going through.”

He looked down. “I know you don’t.”

You sighed and stepped closer, so he’d have to look down at you. “Give me a chance to try,” you pleaded. “Whatever it is— you don’t need to hide anything from me, okay? You can’t scare me away.”

He started to chew the inside of his cheek— he was thinking. And that was a good thing, it meant he was thinking about whether or not he could be honest with you. You just needed to convince him that he could be.

“C’mon, Bruce, it’s me!” you smiled. “It’s us— it’s always been us, nothing could change that.”

“You’d be surprised,” he challenged.

“I just want you back,” you sighed, “all of you.”

When he looked in your eyes, it was like he saw right through you; before he even said anything, you knew that he knew. “When you say that you love me,” he interrogated softly, “what do you mean?”

You tried to step back, but he grabbed your arm— not too hard, but… hard, still. “I…” you breathed.

“What way do you love me?” he demanded.

“The— the way that’s forever,” you offered.

“Don’t avoid the question,” he instructed. “Just tell me what you really mean when you say that.”

“I mean,” you began, looking off to the side because looking straight up at him would be too difficult, “that— that you’re my best friend. And I want you to be happy more than anything, and I… think about you, when we’re not together. And I don’t want you to be alone. Unless you want to be, but— but if you don’t, I just want to love you however you want me to.”

After he said nothing for a moment, you looked up at him again, and found his expression infuriatingly unreadable. “Come back tomorrow night,” he decided. “Late. Alfred will call and tell you when to come— and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Of course,” he nodded, “because I love you, too.”

He didn’t say what way he meant it— but you felt it in his stare, in his hand on your shoulders, in the weight of his words. And you not only hoped, but really believed, that he might love you the way you meant it.

~

You threw on a dress and rushed to the tower when you got Alfred’s call, even though it was almost midnight… you weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight regardless. There was something difficult to describe in his expression when you saw him inside the tower. “Good evening,” you greeted, waiting for the resolution to the strange energy in the air.

“Mr. Wayne has asked me to take you to another part of the tower,” he explained, “where you can wait for him to return.”

“O…kay…” you agreed, confused but sort of indifferent. He took you to the lowest floor of the tower— the garage, which seemed like an incredibly strange place for you to wait for Bruce. It was stranger, even, when the elevator doors opened and you realized this was not at all the place you thought it was. “Wh—?” you started to ask as you stepped into the dimly-lit room, filled with things you didn’t recognize. There was a computer, itself surrounded by devices you’d never seen before, and clippings from newspapers— and journals, writing scrawled here and there all over everything. You knew Bruce’s handwriting, but none of these words made any sense coming from him. Among the menagerie of random, yet disconcerting, items was a knife: not like a kitchen knife or switchblade, it had a mechanical piece like it was meant to be attached to something. What was something like this doing in what used to be the Wayne Tower garage?

You heard the elevator door close, and you spun around to see the lift start to move— Alfred had left you rather unceremoniously. And you felt, in that moment, the only thing worse than feeling alone…

Not feeling alone.

You looked over your shoulder, turning slowly; your heart started to race as you looked into the shadows. Even though you prayed not to see anything, you still couldn’t look away. Embarrassingly, your knees almost buckled and you nearly crumpled onto the floor when a towering figure stepped out of the shadows. The points at the top of his head gave him away: the Batman. The caped crusader; the most prolific dealer of assault & battery to never see a day behind bars.

So, not really somebody you wanted to run into tonight.

At first, your instinct was that he was here to attack Bruce, though you couldn’t imagine why; but the way he was looking at you made you wonder how far he was willing to go to silence you— or if, somehow, he was here for you.

You grabbed for the knife beside you on the desk, but he was on you before you could even lift it in the air completely— he shoved you back into the wall as you whined, holding your wrist so tight you were forced to drop the blade. It clattered to the floor as you choked out a sob.

You waited for him to do whatever it was he wanted to do to you— because you knew you couldn’t stop him. Nothing happened; you waited for him to say something, then, but he said nothing. You were forced to soften your face from the perpetual wince of terror, so you could turn to look up at him and hopefully see why he hadn’t done anything.

Afraid to look at his masked face right away, your eyes lingered on his armored chest first, and the metallic symbol embedded in the center of it. Carefully, you moved your gaze higher and higher, finally finding the strength to meet his stare. It took you longer than it should have for you to realize, when you looked into his eyes. Well, that’s not entirely true: you realized instantly, you would know those eyes anywhere. It’s just that it took you a little too long to let yourself believe it.

He must’ve realized he would need to force you to accept the truth literally staring you in the face. He reached up— and no, you didn’t use the opportunity to try to run because it would’ve been useless anyways, and you were petrified in fear and morbid curiosity— and removed the mask from his head.

“No,” you said under your breath, because you couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Yes,” he insisted.

“I— this— you—” you started over and over again. “Oh, Bruce, what have you done!”

“What I had to,” he answered.

“What you do— it isn’t right,” you implored, “those people—”

“They’re not good people.”

“They have rights!”

“You love me,” he reminded you.

“I don’t even know you,” you denied, finally finding the willpower to walk away— but he grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back again, keeping you still as your eyes watered.

“You said you wanted me,” he sneered. “All of me. This is who I am.”

“N-no it’s not,” you denied, “you would never hurt anyone, Bruce.”

“I hurt a lot of people.”

“But you’d never hurt me,” you whispered shakily. “You’d never hurt me…” you repeated, not sure who you were trying to convince by saying it.

“Not if I didn’t have to,” he responded eventually. You turned your head and he instantly grabbed your jaw, much too hard, with a gloved hand; you gasped and whimpered as he forced you to turn your face back towards him, wrenching your chin up. “Look at me,” he growled.

You bit your lip to stop it from shaking, staring straight into his eyes— they were so much darker now, and not just because of the black smears around them. “Bruce, you’re scaring me,” you mumbled nervously.

“Fear,” he replied flatly, “is a tool.”

In one swift motion, he swept aside most of the scattered papers and items from the desk and pushed you to bend down over it; you sobbed as you felt his grip tighten on the back of your neck and his other, gloved hand run over your back slowly.

“I knew you’d be afraid of me,” he admitted, “but you begged me to tell you. And now you know.”

His hand departed from your body for only a moment, and with your face turned to the side and your cheek pressed to the cool surface beneath you, you could just barely make out on the edges of your vision Bruce bringing his hand to his mouth to pull off his glove with his teeth.

You gasped at the feeling of his bare touch, reaching down to brush over your thigh just below the hem of your dress and slowly moving up.

“Bruce, stop,” you whispered.

“This is what you wanted,” he replied quietly. “This is what I wanted, too, but I knew you couldn’t understand. Now I realize that doesn’t really matter.”

You shivered when he lifted the skirt of your dress up over your back, revealing your panties; your face burned so hot it heated up the metal desk beneath you. You'd worn nice ones just in case tonight went well… this wasn't what you had in mind.

He made a low noise, like a deep, sustained hum, as he reached up and carefully pulled down the waistband of your underwear. You whimpered as the fabric dragged along your skin, feeling yourself become more and more exposed.

"Don't— don't do this," you began to bargain. "I'll just… I'll just go and I won't tell anyone and—"

"Is that what you think I want?" he sighed. "For you to leave? I'm so tired of being alone… you can't leave. I'm never letting you leave."

You panted anxiously, hardly believing this was Bruce, your Bruce, rubbing your bare hips and kicking your legs apart.

“Please, please,” you sobbed weakly.

“Shh, hey,” he soothed, “I won’t hurt you, it’s not going to hurt. It’ll feel good, you know why?”

He leaned in closer, so close that his lips brushed against your ear when he spoke. You felt the head of his cock poke at your opening and you whined.

“Because we’re made for each other.”

In one strong, quick stroke he filled you; you bit down hard on your lip and held back the cry that threatened to break from your throat. He let out a low moan, so deep that the bass of it made a chill run up your spine, and carefully began to move.

You were wet, way more than you should’ve been in a time like this, and you knew it was because of the fear rather than in spite of it. Fear is a tool. He was right after all. At least your arousal eased the pain a little… just not the pain in your heart, unfortunately.

He held your hips tightly for leverage, but the desk beneath you still scraped against the concrete floor cacophonously with every thrust. Yes, you'd wanted Bruce this way for some time— but not like this, of course. You wanted him to make love to you; he was treating you like a means to an end now, he was forcing you to accept every part of him in a much more literal sense than you wanted to believe.

This was clearly, to him, about making you understand that Bruce Wayne is the Batman, an alter ego of sorts. But to you it was about realizing that neither of them were who you thought they were.

When he held your arms tighter, guiding them under your chest and wrapping you up in his embrace, you realized you’d never felt so trapped before. He kissed your neck, and you hated that your back arched at the feeling even though you longed for the strength to squirm away.

“You love me,” he whispered again. “Don’t you? Tell me you love me.”

“Stop,” you choked, whining as his grip on your wrists tightened painfully.

“Don’t make me ask you twice,” he warned.

“I love you,” you whimpered. “I— I love you, Bruce. You… you’re hurting me.”

“Sometimes love hurts,” he explained nonchalantly. “All the most important love hurts.”

Unfortunately, you knew he was right about that; loving him all this time had hurt, in its own way, but never like this. Maybe this was just the cost of him loving you back.

“You said you’d love me however I wanted you to,” he remembered. “This is how I want you to love me. Bent over.”

Crying harder, your breathing got shakier and less useful— his weight sinking into you didn’t help with that, either. He wouldn’t suffocate you right here in this basement, right?

“Can you do that?”

You nodded, and sputtered when he started to fuck you faster. His breathing was hot and heavy against your skin, his hair was falling down around his face and tickling your cheek.

“This is what I need from you,” he explained. “I think you need this, too. I’m gonna give you what you need okay, just… hold still…”

You didn’t realize what he meant until a string of low groans filled your ears and you felt a throbbing inside you that wasn’t your own.

“No, n-not inside,” you gasped, “Bruce, wait—”

“You can’t leave,” he simply repeated, “I can’t let you leave…”

“Please,” you sobbed, “please—!”

It was too late to beg, or to struggle against his tight hold on you, or to cry when he bit down on your neck— but you did all three, just because you couldn’t do much of anything else.

He sighed as a dull warmth radiated from your core; you could feel his come starting to leak out and run down your thighs and you thought you might be sick. His weight was already crushing you, but when he relaxed and sunk down further, you honestly got the wind knocked out of you. “Bruce,” you croaked out, and he seemed to get the message because he pulled you back with him as he slowly lowered to the floor— and so you were held tightly to his chest and stuck in his lap while he leaned back against the wall.

You tried to move so he wouldn’t be inside you anymore, but he quickly grabbed your hips to keep them still. “Shh,” he soothed, “just keep me warm for a while, okay?”

You didn’t answer: agreement was moot, denial was futile.

“I love you too,” he breathed, eyes falling shut as he caught his breath, “by the way.”

unexpected affections. || anthony bridgerton x f!reader.

The last thing that you expect is to encounter your husband upon a midnight quest for a slice of apple pie. And, most certainly not when the man in question is readily equipped with a fumbling love confession.

Marriage of Convenience. Fluff. Love Confessions.

Word Count: 3.5k

WARNINGS: Marriage Pact. Mentions of Future Children. Allusions to Hypothetical Sex. Minorly Edited.

MASTERLIST || TAGLIST

Support your content creators! Likes are appreciated, but comments and reblogs are golden!

Keep reading

“Love At First Sight” (tewksburys version)

VISCOUNT TEWKSBURY X F!READER

- more tewks imagines coming soon cus y’all seem to love them lemme know if you guys want me to write for louis’s other characters or just him in general:) just msg me requests !

cw/tw: mention of deceased father (unedited)

it was his eighth ball that day and he was already annoyed by how he was bombarded by desperate mamas and their daughters. he did want true love. but he didn’t want to be forced into finding it which is exactly what was happening, the House of Lords are practically forcing him to at least get engaged.

but no girl made his heart skip a beat besides… enola holmes but she made it clear that she wasn’t going to settle down at all and that was ok for him. her friendship was enough for him, more than enough.

he drank from the fancy golden cup. he was never a big drinker but he needed to be at least tipsy to get through this never ending nightmare. what he really wanted was to go back to basilwether hall.

tewksbury watched as more ladies and lords entered the huge ball room. his eyes widened when he saw a tall h/c girl walk into the room with who he thinks is her mother. the way she moved was enchanting.

he noticed that the other lords dropped conversation with each other and went to ask for the girls dance card. tewksbury thought she was perfect her looks were enchanting and he only hoped that she was kind and well educated. his mom walked up to him with a smile asking him about how he’s feeling.

“how are you enjoying the ball have you meet anyone” caroline smiled tewksbury nodded.

“yes well- no but i have found my viscountess” he grinned.

“lady fiona? she’s pretty but very uh- slowed minded or are you talking about lady emma? i doubt she’d be responsible enough to-“ she was cut off mid sentence by her son.

“the girl in light purple mother the one talking to sir john” he watched as you held conversation with the older gentleman. “she’s perfect do you know her?”.

“that’d be lady y/n daughter of thomas l/n the late baron, he’s recently deceased but he knew your father” she drank wine from her cup. “go introduce yourself she seems to be the most popular pick”

•

he did exactly that he walked across the room to talk to you. he noticed you were talking to another young lady in yellow, he bowed and introduced himself to the ladies “tewksbury the viscount of basilwether” the women in yellow excused herself and left leaving you and tewksbury.

“lady y/n l/n your grace” you bowed to him smiling very softly not wanting to look to interested, after a while you guys made good conversation about books and his love of flowers you thought that was adorable.

the other ladies and their mamas gave you dirty looks because you captured the viscounts attention and possibly his heart. all you wanted was a husband who valued you and not just your face and body, but marriage was also your duty you needed a man with a title it’s what your father would’ve wanted.

“may i say you are most beautiful lady y/n but your mind is what attracts me to you the most” you smiled that sentence made you want to jump for joy. he kissed your gloved hand which made you blush. “What was your opinion on the reform bill?” you tensed up because most suiters asked this but for the wrong reasons. “in all honesty my lord i would be for it i believe all men and women deserve equal rights” you stood straighter fixing your relaxed posture.

“i was for it to lady y/n, would do me the honor of accompanying me to my mothers tea party tomorrow she has the most lovely garden” he smiled in his head he knew he was going to be marrying you it was like a storybook he experienced love at first sight he only hoped you at least liked him. “i would be most honored viscount just give my mama all the details”.

* 2 days later

your wore your prettiest dress, another purple dress but this time it was slightly darker and more form fitting in the bust area.

your ladies maid brushed your hair and put in a white ribbon to tie it all together in your mothers words you were “simply perfect , good enough to be a viscountess”.

the butler got the carriage ready to leave for basilwether hall, you were excited to see tewksbury again for some odd reason.

“y/n darling, tewksbury is a very wealthy and important man you’d bring honor to our family name if he decides to marry you” she said smiling moving stray hairs away from your face.

“im aware mother, trust me if i could make him fall for me i would” you sighed and took the servants hand to get into the carriage.

your mother got into the carriage after you. all you wanted was to make her proud so if that meant marrying tewksbury then so be it, HE MUST BE YOURS. i mean he was good looking and rich you’d learn to be happy with him.

*

BASHILWETHER HALL:

tewksbury was sweating bricks he was so nervous to see you again he spent all morning helping his servants prepare for the tea party, he made sure all the flowers on the outside table matched the color of cloth. he had asked your mama about your favorite foods and about your favorite colors and things.

the servants prepared red velvet cake, apricot tarts, strawberries and plenty of fresh fruits all of your favorites . his mama thought tewksburys plans of winning over y/n were adorable. “my little boy all grown up and looking for a wife”

tewksbury wore his favorite suit and fixed his hair he wanted to look his best for you. everything was going so well until he suddenly felt a wave of nervousness he felt this way the day he told enola how he felt about her … the day she told him that she’d never feel the same way and that she’d never marry anyone, what if you reject him? that’d break him.

No you couldn’t reject him! he was the best suitor for you …. right??. the servants set up the lemonades and teas in a aesthetically pleasing way, one last time

he planned on marrying you and starting a family with you right away and having three kids-no five, he wanted a big family so he’d never be lonely and so his kids wouldn’t be either. he straightened up and prepared for a day filled with your laughter.

once he heard his door staff announce you he smiled eagerly waiting for his eyes to meet yours.

garden 🌺

you entered the garden area it was decorated with flowers and the table had all of your favorite foods, your mother gave you a nudge and you bowed to tewksbury and his mother, he looked at you like you were the only women left on earth- in the universe.

he welcomed you with a smile and insisted on pulling your chair and he did so you thanked him and flashed your beautiful smile. after a while and a couple dishes later your mamas were talking about the newest gossip but you weren’t paying the slightest attention.

tewksbury was telling you of his adventures and travels with enola you couldn’t help but feel jealous that enola could travel alone with a man unchaperoned.

tewksbury then asked you if you’d like to sneak off in the gardens since your mamas seemed distracted on the other side of the table playing a type of card game. “Alone? but what if?-“ he just winked at you and took your hand you decided to just follow him.

*

“these are orchids they reminds me of you, you look quite beautiful in purple” he kissed your hand softly your cheeks felt hot and your heart was beating fast like a drum. “Thank you my lord” you smiled clearly flustered at his compliment.

“tell me miss l/n what do you want in a husband?” he asked grinning, the two of you continue to walk along a path leading to a bench and a tea table.

“he’d have to be kind and have charming looks and a soft spot for children, he’d also have to love me for something other than my f- he’d just have to love me i suppose” you smiled softly looking at the ground you didn’t want to say that much but it just cams out.

“lady y/n i would like to offer my heart to you” he genuinely smiles and takes your hand close to his heart. “my heart beats for you and you alone ”.

“my lord- you are most kind and i wish to accept your heart because i can see by the look of your garden and by how highly my mama speaks of you that you’d treat me fairly” you bowed

“we should get back before they notice ”

•

after a week of spending time with the viscount you fell hard for him, you dreamed about him when you slept. your mama knew that any day now tewksbury would propose- you counted on it.

you and your mama were meeting with him and his mama for dinner at their home, you put on a light blue dress because he said he wanted you to wear more blue, your hair was straightened and curled and tied with a white bow.

your ladies maid told you that tonight he’d propose she was sure of it she said. that made you nervous your stomach filled with butterflies, you heard your mama call you so your ladies maids finished up and you headed down stairs to the living room.

“You look splendid dearest, surely the boy will propose- but if he doesn’t the duke of hastings would like to marry you.” she smiled as she layed eyes on you… her beautiful daughter

“The duke is handsome but i want viscount tewksbury” you sighed. “yes i know honey.”

your staff escorted you to the carriage and helped you and your mama get in, the carriage ride to bashilwether hall wasn’t long but you burned with anticipation- was he going to propose? or was he just wasting your time?. at least your mama had a back up plan, the duke of hastings , he wasn’t to old.

he was only three and thirty and still very handsome but most importantly he had rank and wealth which at the end of the day was all your mother cared about. she wanted you to find a husband who’d take care of you and to spoil u , like your father did her.

~

he placed his mothers ring in a small black box and held in his grin- he was going to propose today and he was ever so excited. his butler had entered his study “sir ms holmes is here to see you” his face went white. “send her in quickly make sure no one sees” . his heart paced so fast, he wanted her gone

Enola entered the study with a big smile on her face “hello tewksbury of bothersome shire” she teased. he stood up and bowed to her “uh what’s wrong, no embrace or a i missed you enola” she looked confused.

“sorry im just nervous, tonight’s my engagement dinner, to lady-“ she cut him off “wait what” her face dropped. “im to be married if everything goes well uh we shall be married in a fortnight” (fourteen days)

“Oh well um congratulations in advance who’s the lucky lady , do i know her” she smiled but tewksbury could tell it wasn’t genuine. “i shan’t think so, lady y/n l/n” he smiled while shoving some papers in a cabinet trying to distract himself. “Oh well then i will make my leave” she holds back tears “good day”

he grinned politely “good day enola holmes” and just like that she left him as she always did. A big sigh of relief left his lips. enola couldn’t offer him what he wanted but y/n could , she wanted a family and she was the poster child of class and Grace.

•

the dinner was going well when suddenly tewksbury stood up and held his glass high up “I shall make a toast to lady y/n, she is everything good in this miserable world. I only hope she feels for me as I do her.” your mama nudged you and you felt your cheeks heat up. he then sat his cup down and walked up to your chair and got down on his knees “lady y/n will u do me the honor of becoming my wife?” your moms eyes glowed with pride. you felt like crying and or jumping up and down “Yes of course I will.!” he put the ring on you and kissed you.

the dowager clapped and grabbed your mamas hands , they both giggled and laughed like little girls. you loved tewksbury, he was kind and handsome. you will live a comfortable life with him.

TO BE CONTINUED……,

maybe

ok so this is a tmi and i will probably delete this later but safari fucking deleted all my private tabs and i lost this hood ass fanfic from a03 it’s like the reader babysits leia and Luke for ani and then she goes on their family trip to the aquarium

“IM NOT A KID”

Dick x Reader | Y/n aka Robin just saved dicks ass |

tw: u got daddy issues don’t you squidward (iykyk) …. that’s why u reading this 🤣,

• smut, age gap, reader is nineteen and consenting

UNEDITED CUS ITS 4am 😘

⚠️STOP DON’T READ IF SENSITIVE⚠️

“You must be Dick, I’m Y/n the new new robin” you helped him up and smiled as he gave you a confused look . you stuck your hand out so he could shake it

“How did you know I was here?” he wiped off the dust off his suit and fixed his mask. “Batsy sent me and you’re welcome by the way” you rolled your eyes and pulled down the skirt to your robin outfit

“Buy me a drink will ya? meet back here in five i gotta change” you smiled and went to go change.

*

“So you’re the new Robin… but you’re a-“ you cut him off because you already knew what he was going to say. “A girl? yeah so? I just saved your ass” the man chuckled “Yea that’s fair”.

the bar tender approaches the two of you from behind the counter “what can i get for you”. “I’ll take a beer and uh strawberry lemonade for her” he looked at you scanning your features like he was trying to see if you were underage. the bartender nods and walks away to make them. “What are you like sixteen?” he says laughing. “Funny but I’m almost nineteen so technically old enough to drink… grandpa ” you whispered in his ear and rolled ur eyes.

he felt flustered by your sudden move of going close to his ear. “How’d you end up with Bruce?”. the bartender hands you two your drinks and leaves the little area you two are occupying. “it was a year after Bruce lost Jason , i was almost taken advantage of but I fought them hard and he was impressed and took me in” she took a sip of her drink and awkwardly smiled.

“And your family?” he asked taking a generous sip of his beer. “My mom was murdered when I was 15 so I’ve been alone for a while, and I never knew my dad.” he gave you a sympathetic look it almost made you want to cry and embrace him. “I’m sorry y/n” he rubbed your hand with his thumb.

“Is Jason still around or should I say the red hood?” he grinned at you. “Yes he came back to live with Bruce at the manor, sometimes they don’t agree but Bruce really loves him and JJ is sweet to me” you stirred your lemonade and chuckled

the tension between you to was thick you could literally cut it with a knife. dick starred at you like you were the only girl in the world, you wanted to believe in love at first sight but you were way to realistic for that kinda mindset. maybe you were attracted to him because you never had a father figure in your life besides Bruce but hey i don’t judge .

“Why robin you couldn’t be a batgirl? i could see you in babs old suit” he smirk at you. “He told me I could be batgirl once he found another respectable robin” you laughed . “Well looks like you’re gonna be stuck as robin forever, I mean how can u even fight in that skirt ? what if it’s cold or raining?” he asked looking deep into your e/c eyes with his hazel ones.

“I manage! That’s what makes me the best Robin this far cus I can fight in a tight ass skirt and in those ugly ass pants from my winter suit”

*

you two have been talking and laughing for hours after a while you asked him if he’d like to come over to your apartment ( bruce gifted it to u for ur eighteenth birthday) he said yes without hesitation. Dick bought beer and you called a taxi to take you two to your apartment complex it was NICE like as nice as gotham penthouse apartments get .

*

It’s been an hour and you two sat down in your living room downing more beers. “how old are you?” you drunkly said while drinking more of your beer. “I’m turning 28 next month” you grinned and took off your big sweater . “I like how it feels to be around you , we basically spent all day together just talking about my problems and the way u validate me-“

he took you by surprise when he kissed your forehead and rustled your hair like you were a little girl. “I get what you mean kid.” you rolled your eyes and smacked his arm annoyed. “I’m not a kid ok” it took him by surprise when you jumped on his lap and started to kiss him like his kiss was the cure to your issues… maybe it was or maybe you just wanted to kiss him. he kissed back passionately but then pulled away. “We can’t, I should go”

“I know you want me i can feel it poking , nobody has to know ok! It’s not like I’m in love with you” you started kissing his neck and he groaned when you began grinding on his clothed manhood. “Yes keep doing that” his voice started to crack he moaned and groaned as you grinded harder it felt so good.

He pulled off your shirt and unclamped your bra and you took off his button up and started kissing up and down his chest he threw his head back. “Let’s go into my room” you got up from his lap and lead him upstairs to where your room was.

when you got to your room he grinned and threw you on the bed and began sucking your breast and using his other hand to play with the other one. “D-Dick please” your sounds were like music to his ears

*

you sank into his manhood bouncing up and down your noises made him even harder and his praises made you leak with pleasure “Good girl keep going” he grabbed your neck and you moaned as he kept squeezing harder with each thrust.

in the morning you smiled when you saw dick bring you breakfast in bed. maybe this was going to be a whole thing, good forbid if Jason found out 😏

EEK that was my attempt at smut forgive me if it’s bad or to weird 😭 i wanna be an romance author so this was practice :) I’ll get better with time 👌

“I hope your happy…… but don’t be happier ”

| six years later enola comes back to england to confess her love to tewksbury only to find out tewksbury is married with children |

unedited cus i wrote this at 3:33 am

based on oliva rodrigos song

she was nervous to knock on the door of the man she loved the man she hadn’t seen in six years. when she left london she stopped contact with the then seventeen year old marquess. she knocked on the door and a servant answered and bowed this servant had recognized her and let her in without any trouble

she walked into the huge mansion and looked around it was different some of the landscape paintings were replaced with portraits of a women and her children. the servant went to go inform tewksbury of her presence. enolas heart was beating so incredibly fast

the servant showed enola to tewksburys study that’s were she remembered him spending his time, they used to sit and there and solve little local problems. when she knocked on his study door he opened it with a smile they embraced for a full minute.

then enola went to look around it was still the same like when they were kids. suddenly a little boy comes running while giggling “daddy mummy’s chasing me” her heart shattered was this kid his? then a women followed while apologizing “sorry my dear klaus insisted he see you” she looked up at enola “oh my we didn’t know you had any visitors”

the little boy bowed apologizing to his father and enola. “it’s alright, why don’t you introduce yourself to a friend of mine” he patted the boys head enola smiled seeing be so fraternal with the boy. “niklaus of bashilwether, i’m four” he bowed once more before running out the door laughing. tewksbury chuckled

“Enola this is my wife , Y/n the viscountess of bashilwether”

“just y/n. the whole title is a mouth full” she smiled while shaking her hand. enola wanted to go home and cry, the love of her life is married with children.

“uh hello- i was a friend of tewksburys” enola could barely get a sentenced out. “i’ve heard about you the detective that saved him, you’re extraordinary” y/ns praise made enola smile softly how could she hate her she was so nice.

“y/n darling would you mind giving me and enola some time to talk? it won’t take longer than five minutes” tewksbury kissed y/n on the cheek while whispering something in her ear. “of course i’ll go and check on niklaus” she left the room gracefully

“so you’re married with a child that’s -amazing im so happy for you” she could feel tears coming but she held them in. tewksbury looked at her with a genuine smile.

“thank you friend, i soon will have three kids y/ns with child. we pray for twins” his smile grew bigger as he told her the news. her heart shattered for the second time.

“when did you um - when” she was cut off by the man in front of her. “uh the day you left i had met y/n at the flower stand and then a year later we were married” he said smiling.

“what brings you to bashilwether? are you in need of supplies or lodgings?” he asked with a worried look on his face. “no I just came to visit but i should be going-“ she was interrupted by knocking

“y/n? come in my love” hearing him call y/n that instead of her made enola want to jump off a cliff

“honey dinner is ready, is enola staying over lola made chicken soup and i must say it’s delicious” she said poking her head in the door.

“no i was just telling tewksbury i was leaving but um it was nice to meet you y/n , have a good night” she bowed slightly at tewksbury and got up from her seat

“don’t be silly it’s raining please stay enola, i insist the rain will clear after dinner”

*

the dinner was mostly quite will the exception of y/n making friendly conversation, y/n could sense something between them maybe they used to be lovers y/n thought. “me and klaus both think that marie would be nice for a girl or marcel if it’s a boy” she broke the silence the topic of baby names spark tewksbury interest and brighten his mood

“darling perhaps you can consider davina for a first name, davina claire sounds beautiful” tewksbury grinned looking lovingly at y/n. “i like the sound of that, what do you think enola?” y/n turned to enola

“sounds very royal i like it, what do you hope for tewksbury. y/n?” enola took a sip of her wine. “we pray for twins so hopefully one boy and one girl”

“i just want healthy babies now and in the future” y/n drank from her cup that was filled with water.

“amen to that, i just want to say how happy i am to see my old friend enola holmes and share with her my beautiful wife and the mother of my beautiful child and children to be”

(your reaction) ⬆️

after dinner and the rain cleared up a bit enola went on her merry way back to her house , as soon as she was far enough she began to cry , she was to late.her one chance of happiness is gone.

Pt 2? idk if y’all can comment but uh let me know somehow if y’all want pt 2

“SAY YES, SAY YOU WILL BE MY VISCOUNTESS”

songs i listened to: 200% akmu, sofia clairo

this is super short but i just wanted to get something out and i thought this was a cute scenario.

Viscount Tewksbury x Fem Reader 🫶🏻

“Have you ever thought of marriage” Tewksbury asked you as he watched you twirl around his garden.

“Every lady has my lord” you smiled at him , he followed you around his garden as you smelled each and every flower.

“As you know I’m looking for a lady to uh” he cleared his throat “to uh help me extend my family name”.

“So your looking for a bride so she can have your babies? ” you laughed at the thought of mini Tewksburys running around.

Tewksbury turned red “and to love of course, would you like to have children?” he asked waiting on a answer.

“yes but I’m far to young. I’m only eighteen and besides I don’t have any offers yet” you looked at Tewksbury with a fake frown , he rolled his eyes

“You have one” he smiled softly at you

“From who?” you looked confused.

“Me?” he got down in front of you on his knee

“What are you doing my lord , get up” you gave him a shocked expression.

“I want to spend everyday with you, I want to wake up next to you. Will you marry me? Will you be my Viscountess” he took out a box from his jacket and opened it revealing a gorgeous emerald ring. “I can offer you everything you’d ever want”

“Tewksbury- I don’t know what to say” your eyes widened when you saw the big gem, no it was because you never thought a viscount would propose to you

“Say yes , say you will be my Viscountess” he smiled up at you with his golden brown eyes.

“Yes! I will be your Viscountess” you felt tears in your eyes as Tewksbury put the ring on your finger. He picked you up and spun you in the air then kissing you passionately when he softly put you down.

sorry for barely updating i had summer classes 💀

I WANT THE MIRROR SCENE 😣🫶🏻

I'm saying this right now for all who will listen -

they fucking BETTER have just as many romance scenes for Penelope and Colin as they did for the other two.

I don't want cutesy little kisses (I mean I do, but...).

I want passionate, hot, steamy scenes because it's what they fucking deserve.

I swear if they pull ANY punches because Penelope isn't as "traditional" as the other girls I will fucking start such a riot, it'll make everyone's heads spin.

thank you and have a good rest of the day

viscount tewksbury 😩

i have feelings that are too real for characters that are fictional

since summer is starting tomorrow i will get some posts out ! i got a ben smut coming out, a louis partridge fic and a Bruce Wayne fic coming out. I also will update “Mother Knows Best”

no because let’s talk about it 😭 they had so much tension

They made Ben and Evie cute couples costumes for Chillin Like a Villain then said psych

“MOTHER KNOWS BEST”

part 1 of _

warnings: angst , bad mother mother gothel (cher)

pairing : prince ben x reader

fandom: descendants (1)

[ben pov]

“How is it possible you’re going to be crowned king next month you’re just a baby” my dad smiles with my mom on his arm

“He’s turning sixteen dear” my mom smiles looking at me.

“Hey pops” I say smiling back as the tailor takes my measurements.

“Sixteen? That’s far to young to be crowned king… I didn’t make a good decision until i was at least 42” my dad said folding his glasses and putting them in his suit pockets

“Uh you decided to marry me at 28” my mom rolled her eyes and scoffed

“Well it was either you or a teapot” I laughed my mom didn’t find it funny . “kidding”

“Mom,Dad I’ve chosen my first official proclamation. I’ve decided that the children of the isle of the lost get the chance to live here in auradon” my parents looked at my shocked my mom even drop a coat

“Every time I look out to the island i feel like they’ve been abandoned!” I defend my proclamation

“The children of our sworn enemies living among us?” My father looked at me angry

“We start off with a few at first the ones that need our help the most, I’ve already chosen them” I smiled standing my ground.

“Have you?”.

“I gave you a second chance , who are there parents?” my mom smiled at me

“ Cruella De Ville, Jafar, The Evil Queen, Mother Gothel and …. Maleficent”

“MALEFICENT????? She is the worst villain in the land” my dad shouts at me.

“Dad Just hear me out here” I defend raising my voice a little bit.

“I WONT HEAR OF IT. They are guilty of unspeakable crimes.”

“Dad there children are innocent, don’t you think they deserve a shot at a normal life ? dad” I look at him basically pleading with him.

“I suppose there children are innocent” he sighed

********

the whole rotten to the core dance and song thing happens.

[y/n pov ]

Maleficent walks towards us and all the people run away. figures everyone hates her… she talks to mal but i had no interest in listening because it was always the same thing. Maleficent telling mal she wasn’t “truly evil” which is not true mal is the worst person I know and that’s a compliment.

“Oh There’s news!!! you five have been chosen to go to a different school…. In Auradon” maleficent says now im listening a different school? away from mother?

The other vks squirm trying to run away but the goons hold them back . Mal ,Evie , Jay and Carlos go back in forth with reasons we shouldn’t go i stayed quiet.

I always felt like I wasn’t evil enough hopefully some day I’ll be truly evil and wicked like Maleficent and Mal. Maybe this school would be my chance to prove to my mother that I could be just as evil as the other vks maybe even more .

*

{ik mother gothel isn’t a sorceress but just go with it }

“mother i don’t wanna go, please why can’t they go without me? with mal they’ll be fine” i pleaded on my knees to my mother but she just laughed and picked me up off the floor.

“don’t be a drama queen y/n, you will be going to auradon prep and you will love it” she said dramatically she looked serious so i didn’t fight her on it.

“how does this benefit us mother? rapunzel already cut her stupid hair off” i scoffed fixing my hair

“when me, eq, jafar and maleficent take over auradon , i will simply plant more of those flowers and you and the rest of the hoodlum bunch can loot and cause chaos all you want” she smiled probably daydreaming of being youthful and pretty again

“but-“ before i could even speak my mother hushed me up and cut me off mid sentence.

“Listen, you will stick with your little hoodlum bunch and steal the wand like maleficent said as soon as we have the wand the faster we can get our revenge” my mother handed me a book

“What’s this? Is it like the one maleficent gave mal?” i asked curiously.

“Nope! mine is much more powerful, you will read it , study it and practice it because?” She moved the hair outta my face

“Because mother knows best” i softly frowned while picking up my bags.

“Now go change that dress evie made you , looks to much like that blasted little princesses dress”

beep beep

“No time for that mother but I will change when I arrive to auradon “

The rest of the vks got pep talks from there parents while mine just practically insulted me but then again that was just how mother showed her love. I grab my bags and follow the rest of the villains down stairs and into the limousine.

“Bring home the gold”

“Bring home a puppy”

“Bring home a prince”

“Don’t come back until you’re eviler than you came” i shivered at my mothers words

gonna post descendants ffs and my poems on here