60-70yo Danny who opened a Cafe in Gotham after retiring from being an engineer. Every week the theme of the cafe changes, for example, one week its authentic Italian cuisine, the next its Korean dishes, ect. Its such a good hook that a lot of people visit, sometimes not even looking up what kind of week it is so that they're surprised.
Alfred learns about it from the Duke, after Duke had gone there to study with some of his friends. It was English(British) week when Alfred visited, so when Alfred had an hour a free time he popped in and ordered a full English breakfast. And honestly, he didn't have anything bad to say about it, maybe the egg yolks were a bit more runny that he personally prefered but thats more about preference than an actual flaw.
After paying and then moving up to the bar to order a cup of tea, Alfred struck up a conversation with Danny. They spent Alfred's whole break talking between Danny making and delivering orders, and became pretty good friends. So much so that Alfred started spending his almost all of his breaks there, regardless of what the week was, he'd order breakfast and speak to Danny as he worked.
Tim and Steph started calling its "wholesome old man yaoi", because of course they did, but none of the Wayne's are actually sure what Alfred and Danny's relationship is. They definately have a fondness for eachother, but its kinda hard to tell if its just two older guys being friends or two older men guys finding love regardless of their older age. Either way, its cute, and they're super happy that Alfred has found companionship in any variety.
Bonus idea-
*Danny gets taught how to cook by a bunch of ghosts on how to make the authentic food. Be it Nonna's and Nonno's lecturing him on noodle thickness, or the Ajumma telling him how to cut the cabbage properly for the kimchi.
cw: rough sex, degradation, yandere theodore nott, gryffindor fem reader, stalker theodore nott, manipulation, smut for a little bit not much - I feel like this is a mix of various different povs but most of my stories are like that
It was no mystery to anyone that you hated Theodore Nott as much as he hated you.
"I'm starting to think you're angry because you're severely attracted to her."
Theodore paused for a moment, his fingers resting on the cigarette in his mouth before tsking. "No, that's not it. She's just so egotistical and insufferable like the rest of the lions."
"Right." Mattheo rolled his eyes but decided to give up trying to reason with his friend besides reasoning wasnt exactly in his forte.
Theodore sat there a moment before standing up, he knew exactly where to find you at all times. It was a gift in itself.
Private studying room in the library, he pushed the door open anyways much to your dismay.
"Get the fuck out." You glanced up for a moment but kept your focus on the book infront of you. He shut the door behind him but remained inside the room, taking a seat on the other side of you.
"I have a challenge for you, principessa."
This made you sit straight in your chair and focus on him fully now. "And what would that be?"
"Which of us fucks better."
"Beg for it and I'll consider this proposition."
.
.
.
You gripped his hair hard and tilted his head so that you could look down at him, his eyes bore into your own. His pupils were blown wide so much so that you barely saw the blue, you laughed. "Look at you, Theodore Nott, groveling at my feet."
His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. "Let's just see who can do it better before you let your ego inflate your head bigger than what it already is." His tone was mocking but his eyes told a different story. He would be crushed if you walked away, good thing you didn't really want to.
He was attractive.
"You can fuck me if you-"
He wasted no time, not even letting you finish your sentence as he turned you around and slammed you into the wall. His heavy breathing against your ear made your knees weak. "I'll fuck you better than anyone ever has."
"This isn't a competition between others, it's us against each other." You reminded him with a roll of your eyes, he smiled against your neck.
"Us." He muttered, his hands grabbing whatever he could on your body.
You could only feel him growing harder as he did so, subconsciously or not he was rubbing his erection against your ass.
"You have no idea how long I have wanted to put you in your place." His ragged breath was made you close your thighs, was it going too far?
"Put me in my place? Look who's humping me like a dog right now."
Instead of stopping, he kept going. "Can't help the affect you have on me, cara mia - doesn't mean I won't bring you down a peg."
"And if I said - stop, no more. What would you do?"
He stopped at last, his eyes narrowed for a moment. You decided to speak for him. "Be heartbroken, devastated, absolutely crushed? That might be more victory than this."
"You wouldn't," He bit your neck rather roughly causing a gasp of shock to leave your lips. You were sure he drew blood but being too in the mood to care at the moment. "You have this need to prove your better than me, so do it."
You turned your body back around, yanking on his hair to bring him down to your level. A kiss that seemed more like a competition began, his fingers began to undo your clothing as you did the same with him.
Riiippp
You gasped as your skirt was completely ripped off of your body, you stared at him in complete bewilderment. "What the fuck? That was my favorite skirt."
"Whoops." A playful smirk was on his lips as he said that, continuing with destroying what clothing remained on your body. Pushing you back onto the table that previously occupied your books, ones long forgotten.
With no foreplay, he tried to slide himself in but pushed him away. He smirked when you did so, "Too big for you to handle?"
You shrugged. "Not in the slightest, I've had-"
His nails gripped your hips as he slid himself into you, a sharp inhale of air made you shut up. "That hurt!"
"Good, teach you to shut up." He moaned out as his eyes closed from the new found feeling of pleasure. His hips slammed roughly into yours a few times before he found rhythm, you sat on the edge of the table - your nails digging into his back.
"Trying to hurt me?" He whispered, out of breath to really speak.
"No, I'm trying to heal you. Dumb fuck," You sarcastically moaned out. He chuckled but sent a glare down at you regardless.
The main reason was that you wanted to draw blood and hurt him as he had done to you earlier, the other half of you was so overcome with bliss that you had to let it out in another place. His back seemed to be doing the trick, he wasn't going easy with his thrusting. It seemed that each whimper you let out only made him go harder and faster, almost like a man possessed.
Had it not been for the silencing charm, you were certain people would have heard your moans from across the castle.
You had never experience pleasure this good before, you would never admit that to this already egotistical bastard but god was it good. "Fu-fuck, right there." Your eyes rolled back as he kept going holding your hips to only increase the speed of his thrusts.
His own teasing had stopped as his breath was taken over by his own moans, you could have sworn you heard him say I love you alongside them as well.
It didn't take long for you both to reach your climax after that, you felt your eyes closed involuntarily - feeling utterly spent. Not before hearing him chuckle, and feeling arms wrap around your body. Too tired to fight back, you succumb to the fatigue of your body.
Fucking him was the easiest thing that ever came with Theodore Nott. No wonder so many do it with him.
You carefully got out of the bed, peeling yourself from his possessive hold. It was a little weird he had even cuddled up to you afterwards, it made your skin crawl when you think back to it. Thankfully, you heard that he barely spoke to anyone after sleeping with them.
That might be heaven on earth.
And it was just that until notes began to pour in.
None of them were cute or funny. They were utterly insane.
'I saw you laughing with Cormac McLaggen today, if you do it again - I'll kill him.' All Cormac did was tell a funny joke.
'I'll break her neck for talking to you that way.' You had gotten into a fight with a fellow classmate, one that had already been forgiven.
'Why are you trying to sleep with other people when you already had me?' You had not tried to sleep with anyone, you simply had a study buddy that happened to invite you to their dorm.
'Why did you agree to become his partner?'
The note that came after coincided with the previous one that had been sent. 'If he pulls anything, people will be finding his body parts for years to come.'
Next came the ones that weren't exactly threats more so just asking how your evening was after knowing where you had been that said day.
'Your little outfit was cute today, do anything different? Of course you did, you want to look cute for me don't you?' That was one that sent shivers down your spine, what kind of sick joke was this?
These notes were driving you into insanity. This person was watching you constantly, the only clue you had was that you had slept with this person. And another clue just that you knew yourself was that you have only slept with men so far. None of them were capable of writing such things except for Theodore Nott. So, your only theory was the most insufferable bastard who was able to lure you into bed under the assumption that it was a challenge.
Peering over your shoulder did you no good either. He, if it was Nott, was always hidden from the naked eye, but you knew he was still there. You could sense him, the hairs on your body would often stand up when you got that instinctual feeling.
"He's watching me." You told your friends that night, laying in your bed - staring at the ceiling of the room.
"Who?" They already knew who you were talking about.
"Nott."
"I think you need some sleep." Your friends no doubt thought you were delirious, lack of sleep only proving their theory more.
"Why doesn't anyone believe me?"
"He slept with the entire school, you really think he decided to stalk you after doing what he has done with the majority of the population?"
No.
She had a point.
Sighing, you turned over on your bed. Was it all in your head? Surely not.
Maybe it was. Were you the psycho obsessed with him? Merlin, had you been obsessing over him this whole time and using that as a coping mechanism?
You began to think of different scenarios of that being likely, but then who was leaving the notes? You sure as hell were not doing that.
A creepy secret admirer? One that you had previously slept with, at that.
You can't say you've slept with as many people as Theodore has so that can only leave the few people you had slept with. Pin point exactly who was behind all of this. "Let's test this theory out."
If it wasn't Nott, it was one of the others.
"Are you mad? Why would I leave you a note like that?" The first boy you asked was the person you had your first time with, he raised a brow inquisitively. "Are you alright, love?"
"I'm fine." You forced a smile.
Not him.
The others looked at you as if you were crazy, perhaps you were - you believed them all though. They had no reason in doing so, no one really did.
So, all roads led back to the original suspect. Though, did you have the nerve to ask him?
"Is it you?"
Theodore had his arm wrapped around a girl's shoulder, whispering in her ear as she giggled. The both of them eyed you up and down before Theodore cracked a smug smile. "Is what me, principessa?"
"...can we speak alone?"
Theodore looked at the girl. "Do you want me to leave you?" He teased her with a nibble on her ear, she shook her head no with a giggle.
That made you feel sick, you had sex with the biggest whore in Hogwarts. That was a known fact. Rolling your eyes, you huffed in annoyance and crossed your arms. "Alright then, I'll leave you alone-"
Theodore stared at you a moment. "That's it? No fight left in you? Did my dick numb you down?"
"Your dick did no such thing, nott. I am just exhausted from all this nonsense, so good day." You held up your hand as a dismissive wave which only made him stand up much to the dismay of the girl he was previously occupying.
He began to follow you out of the room.
Checkmate.
"Why're you being so-" He started but stopped with a laugh when he saw your smirk. "Ah, you clever girl."
"Tell me, nott. Is this your work?" You handed him the psychotic notes that had been left in various places just for you.
He grabbed them with suspicion. "Sorry, cara mia. Not me, can't say that it doesn't make me a little jealous that someone else likes you in this way."
Yeah, right. Theodore Nott jealous? That was laughable. You puffed out your lower lip. "If not you or any of them, then who could it be?"
"There are many who hate you-"
"This isn't hate, this is full blown obsession! This person is threatening to kill anyone I even accidentally look at, that is-" You groaned loudly and turned on your heel. "Forget it, you're no help."
He smirked as you walked away. Fuck, he was having way too much fun with this. It kept your mind off your studies and off other suitors.
THIS WAS ONE OF THE POLL WINNERS!!
This one took awhile because I am not good at writing smut and I did not want it to be like the others I have written before!
He was fun to draw but I had to study his clothing sooo muchh since it was baggy and really detailed! I lowkey loved shading him with shadows and highlights! The wing and his eyes were the fun part for me! (≧▽≦)
Note for the delay (●´⌓`●):
Omg! Sorry for not posting yesterday! Yes I know, I said I'd be posting the results in two days, but for some reason my account was logged out and then since I forgot my password it got me delaying the post!😔
Sorry for the delay! Though I hope you like the fanart! It's the first time I drew septem and I hope it met your expectations! ⭐
Poll Winner : Work Wives to Wives - Prof Harkness/ Prof Reader
Warning : Valentines Fluff / Professor x Professor / Small Oneshot 3k /Kissing and Feelings / Professor Harkness is very smart but a little love stupid / Misunderstandings / Jealousy / Obvious love / Workplace romance / Printers were harmed in the making of this stories / 18+
You kicked your boot against the printer and it hummed to life.
“Wow,” Wanda said as though you were some kind of Jedi sage master.
The printer sprang into action, lights flashing as it scanned the page.
You smirked at the machine as you ignored the staff room’s red and pink hearts decorations everywhere. Whoever decided to decorate the low lit lounge obviously was getting laid, unlike you.
“I love a woman who can manhandle some machinery.” Professor Harkness dark purple heels clicked as she walked towards you two. You snorted at her but didn’t twist to see her.
You’d be ashamed to say you’d pictured what she’d wear on valentines day, that you pondered it while driving into work.
Wanda with her obnoxious reds wasn’t even on your mind, though when she had lacey bra poking out as you poured coffee this morning, you knew there’d be a responde from Agatha.
“I was just complimenting your work wife, did you teach her how to tickle the printer to work?” Professor Maximoff was always trying to get on the Physics Professor to finally like her, to no avail.
Professor Harkness always bristled, like today - when you were around Maximoff.
You weren’t a scientist, or a professor of chemistry, so you wouldn’t make any kind of jokes on what any of that meant.
But you did have an affinity for the romantics, the poets and all around day drinking yearners. Thanks to being an English Lit Professor yourself, you wouldn’t try and connect Professor Harkness to Darcey, Gatsby, or Heathcliff.
But she’s got the broody misunderstood thing going on, those dark eyebrows, the fact that even though all of the staff referred to you as her work wife, closer to her than anyone before had gotten. You still found that you were desperate to figure out what she was thinking.
Your face was glowing with the light from the scanner as you copied more paperwork for a quiz - your next class would need it.
Harkness shared a glance with Maximoff, you could imagine how she eyed her, then her bra, then back to your form. As though she couldn’t be bothered with Wanda’s girly attempt at attention.
“I didn’t realize your Mr. Robot was in today.” Harkness snippily said, low and uninterested, but you felt her body coming close to the back of yours, closer than normal.
Closer than a normal professor and professor relatnionship.
Close enough, she could smell your shampoo, your perfume, maybe even the brown sugar you liked in your coffee. Fuck Agatha Harkness was too good at this, the slight heat of her breath dancing across your neck made your skin break out in goosebumps.
“I don’t know what you're talking about, I thought you’d be in a better mood since you get to see your wife on valentines day.” Wanda pushed back, but her voice changed just enough that it was clear she’d lost this battle.
“Your adolescent joking about why our professor is smarter than everyone else in this wing has nothing to do with how the two of us can use a simple machine.” Harkness voice is even, but you recognize her to be molified that she’s gotten under the other professors skin.
You hold out your hand, effectively stopping them both from amplifying this, and you wiggle your fingers in the air at your work friend.
“Wanda, I’ll make your copies. You don’t have class until ten, you need fifty I’ll get them to you.” You say effectively, having picked up on the movings of the English department, even parts that don’t change how you do your day.
Wanda lets out a little sigh, but moves to the metal to go coffee container lifting it to leaf through some pages.
The silence is uncomfortable as she drops the papers in your hand.
Then gives up on being nice to Professor Harkness for the rest of the month. Maybe in spring she’ll try again.
“Happy Valentine's Day Dr. Darwin, hope you two figure it out and finally go out on a real date. Half the Biology departments placed their bets you marrying by spring! I said you’d rather a fall wedding seeing as you’re more comfy on a broom stick.” Wanda let’s her tongue make a clicking noise on the inside of her cheek then walks out feeling strong about her last rizz.
Only you hold back a smile as you already feel as though you can hear the cogs in Agatha’s mind working. But she holds back, surprising you as the tenth page shoots out.
The sliding of the machine mixed with the heavy heaving as it delivers another page doesn’t swallow the noise of the heavy door closing on Wanda’s exit.
You find it almost a form of flattery that Harkness didn’t deliver the final word, always proving she’s the smartest in the room.
“You aren’t celebrating?” Harkness asks after a beat, coming around the side of you.
You try not to think of how this feels like a type of mammal mating.
Her desire to be closeted in front of a threat, not that Wanda was but the simple fact is that Harkness found her to be. So when she moved out of the room, Harkness could cirule you like some kind of hyena.
Still you can’t hide your grin at her antics, so you wait, she comes around you, leaning against the wall with it’s cherubs with arrows and bows.
You don’t linger on the decorations around the gorgeous woman’s head. You’d been crushing on them since your first day at the college.
You place Wanda’s papers behind your back and shift a little, as though it’ll ease the sexual tension.
“Do you need the printer Professor Harkness?” You say with enough cheek that it’s flirting.
Agatha’s gentle leaning in still doesn’t clue you in that she’s liking your banter.
“I finished the book. Hey, why don’t you ever recommend romantic books, I mean your last reading unit was romantics…it’s February…?” Harkness shrugged a little, but she wasn’t coy. She stood straight, her hair gorgeous, lipstick and eyeliner sharp.
The image of confidence.
You arch one eyebrow.
“Sitting in on my lectures?” Your grin is infectious to the older woman.
“Maybe.” She admits just as delighted as you are.
The door opens and a TA comes in with a stack of papers.
Harkness bends to look around you, you bite your bottom lip and don’t say anything.
But it’s clear that the dreaded witch of physics has scared away the poor young thing.
As the door is quickly opened again with the person on their way across the university to find the opposite lounge. It was about a thirty-minute fucking walk, but that’s what the famous glare would do to a person.
“So?” She asks and you put your palms on the fax machine and lean a little closer.
“So what?”
“You aren’t celebrating? Going out with some friends or anything?” Professor asks you and you laugh a little.
Making her confused, your face hurts, you’ve smiled a lot these days.
“What is it?” Harkness asked, a little anxious now, but you don’t see the cracks in her facade.
“I know you don’t like Professor Maximoff.” You start a topic you don’t try to work often.
Agatha’s face instantly changes, with microexpressions mixed with obvious displeasure. She shifts back just a bit, sighing. The Professor doesn’t want to talk about the woman; she wants to talk about you.
About books you like, about why you don’t text her, about why you two eat lunch together every day, but you won’t take it further.
Agatha’s never worked this hard, but she’s also never found anyone this intelligent who wasn’t in one of her textbooks.
“Maximoff hangs out in your office hours often.” She tries to seem unengaged with the statement.
You gawk at the older woman, who brushes her hair out of her face.
“You’re going soft,” you says, and now her face snaps to you in offense.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Agatha’s not sure how to take such teasing from you. She shifts in her suit jacket, always so business fashion forward, but there was this way she’d blush that made you wonder what it would be like to see her in nothing but that blush.
You place Wanda’s papers on the printer and think for a moment, playing this long game of never really saying what you want to.
“Darwin.” You say simply, but Agatha just seems unyielding, her blue eyest staring into yours, waiting for you. Always waiting for you.
Professor Harkness doesn’t say anything so you continue.
“You normally would have brought Wanda down by reminding her of where she went to school. Or how tacky her and her workplace romance with Vision is. You would have called her out for thinking Darkwin was into Physics which he’s not. She could have called you oppenheimer or fuck so many other scientists names who actually study what you teach. Fuck, it’s like physics 101 and there’s a million different people she could have named. You’re dissertation wasn’t even close to biology. I just….” You trail off.. Embarrassed at how many times you’d cursed in front of her.
Harkness is still waiting.
She wants you to say it, needs you to say it.
To connect the dots.
But you won’t do it, and why she simply cannot tell.
Harkness was making a rather large fool of herself following you like a puppy. But she’d walk on broken glass at this point for a shot at some real alone time with you.
Not just sex either, she wanted to know you, really know you.
But you simply wouldn’t go there, and Agatha thought of all days today would be it.
You look up at the ceiling and the older professor holds her breath.
“I don’t get it, I guess.” You say in a self deprecating kind of way.
While you miss Agatha begging you to stop it, to admit you very much do get it.
“The reason I don’t like Professor Maximoff..” Agatha starts, trying to not grind her teeth while thinking of how you’d referred to her by first name. And yet she’d been called Professor Harkness only, for months. “I don’t care about her workplace romance-”
You interrupt her with a distrusting scoff.
“What?” She says again this time more gruff.
“You look down at workplace romance.” You say strongly, only to see the physics teachers completely shocked.
Agatha had never considered that was something you were concerned about.
She tried to figure out a non-confrontational way of saying how pro workplace romance she in fact was.
“Maximoff-” She starts again frustration seeping into her entire being.
The door opens again with a TA and a student coming in for god knows what, this time. Agatha hits the side of the printer in anger and doesn’t simply glare at them.
“Use the one in Bartons office! This ones broken!” She shouts a little too aggressive even for her at this hour.
You swallow dryly as they flee for their lives.
Your printer stops printing, you use the uncomfortable moment to open the scanner and put in Wanda’s papers.
Agatha see’s that she’s running out of time, another window closing on what could be a date.
She can’t stand the idea that you might be seeing someone else tonight, Maximoff, Vision, or whoever else.
She needs to break this workplace wife shit, and finally get a god damn date.
You lick your bottom lip and try to understand what’s got Professor Harkness all worked up.
She’s running her hands through her hair with too much aggression, not her usual demeanor at the coffee pot.
“I-” Agatha’s worked for a very long time on the laws of physics. So she doesn’t understand how she’s falling this short of understanding how to get you to eat a meal with her outside of the university.
“You want me to recommend a different type of book?” You try to supply only to see the gorgeous woman's eye twitch.
You hadn’t seen her this mad in your direction ever before. So you think of something else to say.
The day the rumors started about her being your work wife you’d expected this type of upset, but Harkness only responded with a small smile and further jokes that you would have made an amazing physics professor. A higher praise in her book than an ‘I Love You’ really.
When she failed to make words come out you looked over your shoulder to see valentines cards on the counter.
“You-” She tried again now resembling the freshmen boys she refused to allow into her advanced classes. You try to figure out what these broken sentences are.
“I don’t uh-celebrate normally no. I mean I’m single and a book worm at a university. I think a few of the guys put valentines day poems on my desk, which is sweet. But my writing students I told to make a poem and half of them haven’t even finished it yet, but uh- I guess that’s my plans. Grading, tomorrow enjoying the cheap candy. Wanda offered to do this like singles speed dating thing with me. But I think Vision is trying to commit, or is jealous that she was going to date a woman again…anyway-I always wanted to be someones valentine. But I’ll stick with the books I guess.” You say with a sorta dreamy off to the side look.
“No one, uh dating then?” Harkness isn’t sure if she’s having a stroke, or if her IQ points are actually dropping real time.
The last page prints for Wanda, giving a soft of fed up heave the printer goes in to low power mode. Making angry beeping noises.
You smile a little, then think of the rom coms before.
Try not to look Agatha in the eye, afraid the honesty would weigh you down like rocks.
“There’s the dream of someone. I don’t know, maybe one day I’ll be someones valentine. For now I’ll just fix the printers and try to teach twenty year olds what yearning really means.” You laugh a little at the absurdity of it.
“Be mine?” Agatha says it so fast you aren’t sure if she’s just bit her tongue and made an upset noise.
You lift the scanner giving a confused sort of scrunching in your face.
“You okay there Prfoessor?” You question, wondering if she’s hurt.
“Be my valentine?” She says the least romantic thing that she’s envisioned in all the daydreams about asking you out.
When you further seem confused Agatha thinks of the only language she understands, Physics. Agatha knows about Newtons Law, and god she hopes that the third law that you’ll react to her reaction.
She reaches out and kisses you, right there, over the clunky printer.
Your not too shocked to melt into her body though, reaching out and holding her wait to cling on for dear life.
Agatha tastes of mint and spring, a promise of something new.
You close your eyes and let her lips guide yours.
Her lipstick rubbing to be your new favorite color, far better than any shade of candy heart or construction paper hearts.
A color that the faculty and students would notice going into your class, as it would be on your lips for the first time and your neck.
Agatha kicks the printer in her hunger for more of you, afraid if you two stopped kissing you’d deny her a chance to ever do it again.
You smile into her kiss and drop all the papers onto the floor.
They flutter like feathers around you both and land unceremoniously like petals around a declaration of love.
You throw your arms around her neck, and both of you push against the wall now.
You're graced with Agatha’s tongue as she dominates you, but you lean into her, a soft grinding of sorts. As you teach an old professor new tricks, it seems, she moans at the sexual nature.
Agatha had never been so turned on from a kiss; maybe she’d not studied with the right partner.
You slow the kiss and you can feel Agatha’s hands go to your jaw, trying to hold onto you for one more second.
You whisper in her frightful hold against her lipstick-smeared, puffy lips.
“No more work wife? I get to be your valentine?” You try to joke, but there’s a hopeful way about it, you keep your eyes closed, too.
Scared that this isn’t happening, that you’d slept past your alarm again.
“Both, let’s do both,” Agatha says, out of breath, a neediness you’ve never experienced, her eyes open as she studies you. The way your eyelashes curl as you keep yourself tight against her, afraid of what happens next.
Always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You can open them,” she whispers so sweetly, your heart might break.
“I don’t want it to be over.” You admit just as quietly back, it’s so tender that Agatha’s hands move to your cheeks, desperate to feel you.
“If time is relative-” Professor starts and you laugh at her, but she’s not offended this time.
“I’ve never had a first kiss feel like a promise.” You say back, unable to look at her yet, for her to see how much you want this.
Agatha steps on a paper, but her hands move to your waist as she holds you close, it’s almost a painful strength. It gives you comfort, like it has to be real to be in this bear hug.
She’s unsure of where to touch you first, how to convince you of everything.
“Will you call me a fool if I say the first of many?” Agatha hates that she’s unable to say all of what she means. Reeling for words, angry she chose physics now. Why couldn’t she be a poet like you? Her breath against your lips makes you scared that this all will slip away.
“Is this because of what they’re saying I mean the jokes the work wife thing or the-”
Agatha’s hands are moving erratically up your spine to your face, rubbing and a pressure of lovers hands that knew you too soon.
“No, no, no, how could you think that?” Her voice cracks and you swear if someone else walks through this door before this conversation is over you were calling a snowday in Febuary.
“I don’t want to…I don’t want to be a consolation prize. I mean I can fix your computer and we are able to do so much for the faculty bu-”
Agatha’s kissing you again and you swear your toes curl from the strength of her.
Then shes kissing your nose and cheeks and forehead and you can’t not open your eyes to see her smiling back at you, no beaming at you.
Your lip quivers at the love shinning back at you, warming you through your clothes. Just like cuddling in the morning light.
Blue eyes shine at you with a declaration better than any hallmark card;
“Be my valentine, be my work wife, be my everything.”
Agatha + Reader List | Agatha + R + Rio MasterList | Agnes + Reader List | Maya + Reader MasterList | Claire + Reader MasterList | AO3 | Read More MultiFandom Fanfics Here
(warnings: 18+ MDNI!! spicy sexual content because im delusional and dream of something like this happening to me every day!!! MY HOOD BF PLEASE: jealous/possessive khamzat, oral f receiving, alcohol use, unprotected drunk s*x)
just an “author’s” note because fck a separate post; ok it’s finally done I been slacking. ngl I wanna write a maga smut so bad but honestly, I have no ideas other than straight passionate s*x cause that’s all I think about when I see that man I’m sorry BYE. so give some ideas if you want. also, may I add.. my sad ass was saying how the last ones were my favorite i've ever written. now.. i'm a happy jolly mf, working on this one wondering wtf I was even talking about cause I’m big braining rn and now I think it was lowkey kinda dog shit I just liked the concept LOL and I’m laughing my ass off even harder because I realized for warnings I put none. and bruh I’m not gonna try to edit my own corny picsart photos anymore that shit just looks like a parody or smthing. lol khabibi I’m sorry 💀
(desc: literally way too much going on to even start to write a short description. this is almost a whole movie plot because I absolutely love my stories very long so I can come back and what’s the word.. cognitively goon..? man idk, but yeah when i'm not being extremely lazy about it. which, I usually always am, so.. just grab your popcorn and munch on it...)
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it was supposed to be your night.
his words,
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definitely…
not yours.
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he explained that there would be absolutely no fight talk, nobody else in the way,
and that the following nights would be solely about the both of you.
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well, he’d just come off a big win.
and instead of celebrating with his team, or family. he had flown you out, met you at the airport, taken your hand, and told you that he wanted to celebrate it,
with you.
you wondered, after everything, after that mess—why in the world would he want to focus on you..?
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still,
he went off and booked a nice room at one of the most luxurious casinos in vegas that he knew of, anyway.
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and it wasn’t just a "nice" room.
—it was the type that had marble floors, heavy velvet curtains that spilled onto the ground, a bed big enough to swallow you whole, and a huge balcony with a view so clear… it felt like vegas was leaning in, just to be closer to you.
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he had done it,
not because he cared about all the fancy details, but because…
he knew you would.
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you loved everything about the city.
—the lights, the colors,
the chaos…
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you’d always said vegas felt like a dream you wanted to live in, at least once.. so, he made sure that if he showed it to you…
maybe you’d see it the right way.
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and,
because he wanted you to have that.
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that one opportunity, to stand there, look off into the night..
and feel as if the whole city was yours.
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after dropping your things off upstairs, the two of you wandered down into the casino, and.. it was everything you loved all at once,
overwhelming in the best way possible..
the music, all of the bright chandeliers that glared above you, the constant clatter of coins spilling into their trays,
and the buzz of conversation when dealers called out at card tables—all while random people leaned in and cheered from the sidelines.
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it was loud, chaotic, and just too much…
but somehow,
you loved it.
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your chest felt light, and your heart started to race.
like the whole building was alive..
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and in some way,
you
were apart of it.
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you caught yourself smiling, probably wider than you should’ve been, because khamzat gave you this little side look, like he was half amused, and half proud that he’d brought you here.
for once, it felt like everything was exactly how it was supposed to be.
you couldn’t stop yourself from looking everywhere, with your gaze bouncing from lights to tables to people—until it froze on one thing in particular.
out of everything.
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out of the countless rows of slot machines,
all of the card tables,
and even brighter lights,
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you spotted it.
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tucked in the corner,
plain, with a curtain half-drawn—just bright enough for you to notice.
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it was..
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a photo booth.
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khamzat raised a brow, smirking,
—staring at it.
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“seriously, one of those...?”
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“…corny”
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you rolled your eyes and smacked him lightly on the arm, his comment only made you want to tug him harder.
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“corny is fun, you dork..” you shot back
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“come on.”
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he sighed dramatically,
but let you pull him in anyway...
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the booth was barely big enough for him, or his broad shoulders.
you noticed that his knees brushed closely against yours as you both sat down and attempted to squeeze into the tiny space. and when you finally settled inside, he gave you a very distinctive look.
like he couldn’t believe you had actually managed to drag him into something like this.
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“you really brought me in here for this bullcrap..?”
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he looked over at you.. almost cramped in the corner, as if he was fighting a smile. you only grinned back at him, because... come on,
of course you had.
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when the countdown started on the screen, he had little to no expression. he was waiting patiently—as if he wanted to take absolutely no part in whatever "this" was.
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“don’t look so miserable, khamzat”
you teased, nudging him.
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he raised a brow, before turning back to you.
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“what do you mean..?
I look good.."
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"always...”
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he threw a wink in your direction, before pulling a ridiculous flex right as the camera flashed.
you gasped, almost laughing.
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“oh my gosh wait, wait…
you’re actually trying...?”
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“yeah..
only for you.”
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he muttered low—almost as if he didn’t mean for you to actually hear it.
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the next flash went off with your cheek pressed against his, catching both of you mid laugh, as he tried not to question anything.
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then,
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the final countdown ticked, and without any warning he grabbed your waist and quickly dragged you onto his lap—his smile absolutely wicked as you squealed in surprise.
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“khamzat, what the hell…!”
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you half-laughed, and half-scolded, but the booth clicked before you could push at his chest, catching the whole ordeal,
perfectly.
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and when the photos slid out,
you bent down and snatched them up almost immediately.
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“okay… okay, wait.."
"these are actually adorable.”
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“adorable?”
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he repeated, pretending to scoff, leaning over your shoulder to see.
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"look at me...."
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"I look dangerous.”
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you only laughed harder.
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"you look.... stupid"
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he gave a low chuckle and with one quick motion, he snatched the photos right out of your hands.
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“hey...!”
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you tried to reach for them, but he just leaned back against the booth wall, studying the strip with a mocking-serious face, like he was critiquing some sort of art.
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“mm,” he hummed, tapping one square with his finger.
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“this one.. you look crazy here.”
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“well, maybe that’s because you—
ugh, whatever...”
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you just rolled your eyes, smiled, and tried your hardest to snatch it back, but he turned his shoulder slightly, keeping it away—not teasing you to jump for it, just keeping it close to him like he didn’t actually want to let it go.
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eventually,
he gave it back, and you tucked the photo strip carefully into your bag, still smiling, slipping your hand into his as you both started to walk away.
the lights glared bright, and the air was buzzing with plenty of random noises, like slot machines, laughter, music,
and voices.
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you soaked it all in.
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the two of you wandered for a while after that, pausing to watch around a roulette table just as you saw before, slipping past rows of slot machines that flashed, and walking long enough for you to peek at a couple of shops nearby.
you even went out near the fountains and sat there,
admiring everything.
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the casino was its own little world,
and...
you let yourself get lost in it.
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moving from one distraction to the next until time didn’t feel like it mattered.
and by now, it was night outside… though inside the casino,
it never really changed.
—it still had the same glowing lights, and the same noises… only a bit heavier after hours of wandering.
your legs ached a little, and your head buzzed in the best way, it felt like the whole place had settled into a different rhythm,
but.. you didn’t even feel tired.
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khamzat leaned in closer—so you could hear him, just a little better through all of the noise.
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“so... you happy now?”
he asked, with a grin on his face.
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“of course I am."
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"but… I’m not done yet.”
you smiled up at him, tugging at his arm again.
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“come on, let’s go over there.”
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you said as you pointed over to the bar.
it was busy but... somehow, not too packed.
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you slid onto the stool in front of you, smoothing your dress, as he claimed the seat next to you. his arm settled across the back of your chair, and his body angled toward you, almost as if he didn’t plan on letting anyone else close,
at all.
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“so, earlier…
what did you say you wanted to try?”
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he asked, tilting his chin toward the many rows of bottles.
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you looked over, with him.
—trying to think..
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but..
before you could open your mouth to answer, you could hear distant shouting.
—a commotion began to stir from behind.
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“khamzat!!!”
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you both looked at each other in confusion, before slowly turning around, and from across the floor,
a group of his teammates had spotted him.
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somehow,
they had all decided to come to the same place.
purely by coincidence.
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they were loud—and grinning. waving him over as if they hadn’t seen him in years, but…. it had barely been a few days.
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you felt him stiffen beside you.
then, their voices carried again.
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louder,
more insistent as they continued to wave at him to come over to their table.
he looked truly annoyed, but looked back at you before muttering a short:
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“stay here.”
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you only nodded,
even if it sank in your chest a little.
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he gave you a half-nod back.
his hand brushed your arm before he moved away, slowly disappearing into their circle.
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you didn’t mind it, afterwards.
you just sat where you were, perched on the stool, but the empty space next to you, somehow... felt emptier than you’d thought it would be...
even with him in sight,
standing there right across from you.
you saw that he had a large grin on his face already —laughing, answering questions, and slapping shoulders...
you hadn’t ordered, but the bartender noticed you, lingering.
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alone.
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at his counter.
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“are you waiting on someone...?” he made his way over and asked you, while wiping down a glass.
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“no, he's actually over there.”
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you replied, offering a faint smile. you thought about it more, and decided that you would continue to speak:
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“well, actually.. I guess you could say that.” you let out a slight awkward chuckle.
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“he got pulled away.”
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you glanced back over to khamzat—who now looked as if he was having the time of his life.
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“stuff like that happens..”
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“too often,”
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the bartender continued, shaking his head, following your gaze—taking a glance at the decently large crowd..
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"did you want a drink while you wait..?” he raised a brow.
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you hesitated, then shook your head.
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“no thanks.. I'm fine.”
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“suit yourself.” his tone was easy,
not pushy whatsoever.
“don’t want you sitting here looking bored, though."
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"long night?”
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he asked as he leaned in, to hear you better through all of the television chatter, laughter, and..
whatever else.
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it was nothing serious
just small talk.
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you huffed a soft laugh and smiled—leaning in slightly as well..
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“kind of…”
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and somewhere in between the talking..
the smiling,
and the laughing,
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that’s when you started to feel something.
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a weight,
sharp and heavy.
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because, from across the room..
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khamzat’s eyes had found you again.
and, he wasn’t listening to the voices around him anymore—nor was he laughing like before.
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he was...
watching.
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khamzat’s group was loud around him.
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maybe a little—
too loud…
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there was plenty of laughter, and the voices of countless people buzzing through the both of his ears. he nodded when he had to, and smiled when expected, but his eyes kept drifting back…
again,
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and again.
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to you.
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sitting alone at the bar, with that miserable look in your eyes, as you patiently waited for him to get done. he silently watched as your dress caught light every time you shifted, and admired you as your hair fell soft around your face every time he wasn't distracted.
his gaze burned straight through the space between you, locked on the way you sat there—the way the bartender made his way closer to you,
the way your lips curved in a slight smile, while you glanced up at him and..
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suddenly,
he leaned in,
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said something low…
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and,
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you laughed....
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not loud,
not flirtatious,
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but soft.
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soft enough that he felt it somewhere in his chest...
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and then..
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you.
leaned in,
too..
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to him,
it didn’t matter that neither of you guys were flirting.
it didn’t matter that you were just trying to be nice by conversing with him—or, that he was a bartender who was only trying to do his job...
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he hated that it wasn’t him that was making you laugh in that moment...
—especially the way you did.
he hated that you were leaning in even slightly toward another man, giving away pieces of your yourself that belonged to him,
and to him only.
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yet.. he had managed to grab your full attention.
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and..
he hated it.
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because,
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you were his.
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his.
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he found himself repeating the same phrase over in his mind until the casino eventually blurred around him.
all of the noise, and the voices of men he’d known for years seemed to settle down, because in that moment..
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nothing mattered.
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only…
you did.
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and the way you were looking at someone else,
when he was the only one that you should’ve been looking at this whole damn time.
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he didn't even realize how hard he was clenching his jaw, and how the heat started to burn low in his chest.
—how his hand slowly curled into a fist at his side.
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he hated the sight of it.
he was disgusted, even.
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disgusted at the fact that you were sitting there alone.
alone long enough for another man to even think about having to fill that empty space.
he only realized he’d already stopped listening when one of his teammates nudged on his arm—repeating a question he didn’t seem to hear.
he brushed it off, quickly muttered something, and pushed himself up from the table—eventually parting with the group,
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now…
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he was making his way straight toward you.
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you only looked up when his shadow fell over you,
he didn’t even give the bartender a single glance.
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“we’re leaving,”
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he said, finally. with his voice low, and rough. not loud at all. but somehow, it carried far more weight than any other noise nearby.
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soon,
you found your throat going dry.
because you knew he wasn’t asking.
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he was..
telling you.
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his hand slid around your waist.
firm, and steady.
leaving no room to argue as he helped you down from the barstool. you blinked up at him, confused at the suddenness but, he didn’t say anything else.
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didn’t even explain.
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or let you turn back over to say your goodbyes.
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hell,
that was the last thing he was going to let you do.
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his hand stayed glued onto your back as he guided you through the halls, steering you.
like you might drift away if he were to even think about letting you go.
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“khamzat…?”
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he didn't reply—just stood there, silently waiting for the elevator doors to open.
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“what’s wrong..?”
“we didn’t even get a drink yet.”
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you carefully asked, tilting your head up at him. he stepped inside, saying nothing—just motioning for you to follow.
and obviously,
you did.
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the doors soon slid shut.
he walked over and stood near the control panel, pressing a button, with his hand resting lightly on the railing before slowly turning back to you.
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“you didn’t need one over there.”
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he muttered shortly, with his eyes now fixed ahead on the small glowing number that counted down the floor
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“come on,
you’re acting weird...”
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“you said I could...”
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you frowned, caught between pouting and laughing.
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he didn’t respond,
—just let the elevator hum between you both.
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when the doors dinged open, he stepped out first, glancing over his shoulder, waiting for you.
you followed behind him, heels clicking lightly, with your fingertips trailing along the walls, as he led you down the short hallway to the suite.
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at the door, he slid the keycard through the reader. the lock gave a short beep before clicking open. —he pushed it wide enough for you to step in first.
the door behind you eventually clicked shut, and the silence between you two only stretched.
you let the sound of your own breathing fill the space. you didn’t know whether to speak first, so you stayed quiet.
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after a while, you let out a loud sigh, dropping your bag and leaning your back against the nearby counter, crossing your arms.
the silence had stretched for too long, and… you couldn’t handle it anymore:
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"seriously, you're just gonna drag me away from the bar... to come here and do nothing..?"
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"with absolutely no explanation."
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he didn’t answer right away, just stared at you with that dark, unreadable look that almost made your stomach twist. he stepped closer, chest rising and falling heavier than before.
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"you think I didn’t see that..?"
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"the way you laughed.."
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"the way he leaned in.."
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"you just...
let him."
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"and,
you did too."
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you blinked one good time, clearly unprepared for that kind of response—anything but that.
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“what are you on about, khamzat..?”
“that was just the bartender.”
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“I was only trying to hear him better, he was asking me if I—”
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“—doesn’t matter”
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he stepped even closer, cutting you off.
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“you just don’t get it.”
his hand ran over his face, down to his jaw, like he was trying not to lose it..
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“then, explain...” you stared at him.
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“I’ll try to understand.”
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you lifted your chin, trying to meet his gaze.
your fingers found his hand, sliding yours into his, with a light, almost nervous squeeze.
for a moment, he just looked at you—almost like he was holding something back,
like words weren’t enough…. like he had a thousand of them that were trapped behind his thoughts, but didn’t know which ones to even bother saying first..
he looked down at your hand that was covering his. you were holding it gently,
and, attentively.
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and, suddenly....
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his lips found yours.
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but,
it wasn't soft…
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wasn't sweet...
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in fact…
it was rough...
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and..
desperate..
like he was trying to put all of his jealousy and frustration into the way his tongue moved against yours.
your back hit the counter, and his hands gradually started to explore every inch of you, allowing him to take whatever he needed,
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anything.
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his hands dragged lower, gripping the curve of your thighs. hard enough to make you gasp as he hauled you up onto the counter in one motion. your dress rode even higher, as one of his hands crept up beneath it.
he stepped in between your legs, spreading them as far as he could as he drew closer, crowding you in.
you barely had time to breathe before his mouth was on yours again—messy, and hungry, like he couldn’t seem to get close enough.
another hand slid up your dress, pushing the fabric higher until the cool air kissed at your bare hips.
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he drew back slowly, his hands left your body, giving your dress a chance to fall back into place. then, he walked across the counter and grabbed the bottle he’d been saving.
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he twisted the cap off, set it aside, and tipped it to his lips. taking a few long gulps..
which to you,
were almost concerning.
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the liquor burned all the way down his throat. and afterwards, he exhaled sharply, tilting his head back for a moment as if to shake off the sudden heat. then, he made his way back over to you.
lifting the glass to where it hovered at your lips, with his other hand resting near your leg.
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“you said you wanted a drink..."
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"open.”
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he ordered, tilting it slightly. you complied and opened your mouth, drinking as much as you could, trying not to choke. all while he watched, intently. brushing his thumb along your bottom lip to wipe away any stray droplet that happened to fall.
then he set the bottle aside,
—with his mouth curling into a dark smirk.
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before you could even catch your breath, his mouth was back on yours. his tongue swept against your lips, tasting the liquor he’d just poured down your throat, swallowing the little gasp that escaped you.
the kiss only deepened,
like he was determined to make you feel exactly what it had cost him to keep it in.
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his hands slid over your sides, rough and sure, dragging you closer until there was no space left between you.
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“you fucking drive me crazy…
I hope you know that.”
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his voice was low, with the scent of liquor still lingering on his lips as they brushed your skin. it was steady, but edged with something, darker.
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"khamzat..." you whispered, unsure if it was either a plea, or... a warning.
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"shh.."
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"...let me make everything all about you, now.. okay...?"
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he mumbled gently, as he slowly let you go.
before you could speak, he sank down onto his knees in front of you—eyes staring at your legs, and back up. roaming over ever curve, and every line of your body.
his hand trailed alongside your thigh.
teasingly,
almost as if he was trying to memorize the countless times you had shivered beneath his touch.
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he then leaned forward, pressing soft, slow kisses just above the sensitive part of your inner thighs, before easing his hand all the way up and moving your underwear to the side. leaning in, even closer. your back couldn’t help but arch slightly—and a small gasp slipped past your lips as his mouth started to explore you.
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spreading you open,
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tasting..
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you tried, but you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that escaped from your mouth, your body reacted before your mind could.
all you could do was grab at the edges of the counter.
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he chuckled low, and darkly.
because he knew exactly how much control he had over every single one, of your reactions.
his low chuckle almost vibrated against you, making you tremble.
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“mhhh…”
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you let a moan slip out, and covered your mouth for a split second. he gripped your thigh harder, spreading it wider with a strength that made your breath hitch.
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“that’s it…”
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he muttered, voice rough, almost lost between your gasps.
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“don’t hide it..”
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his tongue moved slower, then suddenly....
rougher.
drawing another soft whimper from you…
you tried to close your thighs around his head, but his hands firmly pinned you open, forcing you to take every bit of attention he was giving you.
one of his hands stayed firm, to hold you in place. but you still found yourself clutching onto him for balance so you didn’t slip off of the counter, somehow. and that’s when you found that your fingers started to tangle in his hair,
tugging harshly without even realizing it.
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he only groaned into you.
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like he wanted you to lose control,
like he was daring you to.
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every time you tried to turn away, his grip only tightened. his mouth, his tongue—every move felt like he was proving a point.
like he wanted to remind you exactly who you belonged to… and to feel as if the night itself knew exactly whose you were, too.
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your legs twitched under his grip, with soft whines spilling past your lips, and tears starting to form in your eyes, no matter how hard you tried to hold either of them back.
he pulled away just for a second, with his mouth glistening, and his eyes blazing as he looked up at you.
and he then saw you,
—that look on your face,
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and, decided that...
he just couldn't take it anymore…
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so, he lifted you from that counter,
effortlessly.
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carrying you all the way to the master bedroom.
—with the bright city lights glaring across the sheets, blurring your vision as your head began to spin.
he laid you on the bed gently, and without breaking eye contact, he bent down. pulling both of your heels off, one at a time, letting his hands linger just a little longer than necessary.
then he straightened, letting his gaze roam over you again, his hands traced your sides before finding the zipper at the back of your dress. and with a slow, deliberate tug, he eased it down, along with your underwear, exposing the warmth of your skin beneath.
he made his way on top of you, softly pressing his body against yours, grounding you. making sure you couldn’t pull away even if you tried.
you lay exposed before him, every inch revealed, while he remained fully clothed.
you shivered at his touch, and the way he pinned you down. thinking of all the things he could do to you in that exact moment.
he delicately placed kisses alongside your neck, down to your chest…
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and then,
he lost control.
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he leaned a bit backwards, and then started to aggressively fumble with his belt,
he didn’t even care to take it off all the way.
he pulled his boxers, along with his pants down slightly, spreading one of your legs as far as he could with his free hand—grabbing his dick and sliding it along your already soaking wet folds with his other.
you started to breathe heavy, it had been a while since you both had sex, and you could feel that sharp, familiar stinging pain as he tried to ease his way inside of you,
and he almost didn't fit…
-
more tears gathered at the corners of your eyes as you fought back a whine.
he noticed, but the only thing he did was lean in closer on top of you, hugging you tightly, resting his head against the side of your neck. giving it a single, faint kiss. before taking one deep, sudden thrust…and just like that, he was already inside of you.
-
you gasped,
biting harshly at your lip as you tried to hold onto him. you couldn’t help the moans that crept out. your eyes started to blur, and your face started to turn into somewhat of a frown.
he didn’t waste any time, starting to pull out, before softly easing himself back inside of you again, and..
again.
—giving you time to get adjusted.
-
-
-
-
-
-
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and by now,
-
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the effects of the drink had spread fast,
-
-
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a bit sharper this time,
making it absolutely impossible to think straight, as he picked up the pace.
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you could feel it spreading through your chest, warming your veins. every brush of his mouth against your skin, and every grind of his hips blurred into something dizzying.
until it was almost, unbearable.
you barely registered how you ended up against the bed, getting yourself destroyed.
his hands were firm around your thighs, guiding, and controlling every movement—his pants started to slip farther down his legs as he put more force into it.
-
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the room was tilted with the scent liquor, and the echoes of him forcing himself back inside of you, repeatedly. but all you could focus on was how he pressed you so far backwards, that the backs of your knees hit the mattress...
his grip tightened, and his mouth traced along your neck. you could feel your toes starting to curl as you felt him hit that one spot,
just right.
you instinctively slid your hands under his shirt, reaching his back, clawing at it… his mouth trailed hot down your jaw, catching at the side of your neck, biting down, just enough to make you cry out to him again as he continued to pound into you, relentlessly. —and almost immediately, drops of your own cum started to seep through, and drip onto the sheets.
you cried out for him, unable to hold back the sound that escaped.
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"khamzat! ah.. fuck..!"
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he started to breathe intensely into your neck, listening to every single one of those little wet noises your body gave every time he drew back and buried himself deeper inside of you. listening to your sobs as if that was what he had planned from the start—for you to cry out to him,
—for him be the only one you were ever going to need.
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"…mine..”
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his voice broke against your skin in drunken fragments, muffled—almost swallowed by the closeness of his mouth. and it almost seemed as if the alcohol had hit him too..
by the way he was fucking you,
all sloppily, rough, and possessive, holding you tightly… as if letting go meant losing you forever.
-
his weight pressed you deeper into the mattress, before he started to slow down, you could hear a slight groan as you felt him twitch inside of you, along with the warmth that gathered afterwards, deep, and slow.
-
your chest heaved beneath his, both of you dizzy from more than just the alcohol. heat and sweat clung to your skin, the taste of him still burned on your lips,
and every place he’d touched was still alive and trembling.
-
neither of you spoke… there was only the sound of your breathing, uneven and tangled together, filling the quiet room.
his forehead rested against yours, damp with sweat, and when he finally moved, it wasn’t to pull away—it was to drag his mouth along your jaw, slow and lingering, before finding your lips again in a softer, lazier kiss, nothing too frantic now.
nothing rushed.
-
just a promise in the way his mouth lingered, like he wanted to etch the taste of himself into your memory,
