Oh, To Be The Lady's - [A Lady Dimitrescu/Female Reader-Insert Story]

Chapter Nineteen: To Be Unnerved

A/N: No one requested this, it's literally just some self-indulgent fluff that I came up with last night while freaking myself out at 3am 😅 I hope you all enjoy and thank you for the continued love and support, you all are amazing! 🥰

ALSO, I bought myself a signed print from Maggie Robertson (the VA for Lady D) for my 22nd Birthday (which is on Monday, June 28th) and I'm SO EXCITED 👏🏻😂 I just thought I would share lmao AND ANOTHER NEWS before I forget, I have an Instagram dedicated to this fanfic now, it's @oh_to_be_the_ladys if anyone wants to follow/say hello! 💙💜

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Going to the bathroom at 3am wasn't really anything new for you.

You often woke up at weird hours of the night. Most of the time, your wife would still be awake, sitting up on her side of the bed with her reading glasses perched on her long nose and you would blink up at her through the darkness. Without a word, she would gather you even closer against her side, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead before you would tumble back to sleep.

This night was slightly different.

You sit up in bed, already missing the familiar glow of your Lady's side-lamp. She's actually asleep, curled up facing you. Her lovely face is lax in rest and you resist the urge to reach out to brush your fingers along her high cheekbones, knowing that sleep is hard for her to find most nights.

You cherish this second. The fact that you and only you are allowed to see the feared Lady of the Castle so vulnerable and relaxed, that it's you who gets the honor to share her bed, in more ways than one, every single night.

Your need for the restroom becomes impossible to ignore, however, and you carefully wiggle out from under Alcina's arm. She shifts in her sleep at this, brows furrowing and you press a soothing kiss against her knuckles.

"Be right back." You whisper.

When all Alcina does is huff, her perfect face smoothing out, you force yourself to leave the comfort of your bed and her embrace. Debating against flipping on your own bedside lamp, you diminish the idea after a second.

You can make it to the bathroom in the dark, you could basically do it in your sleep at this point.

And as you yawn, rubbing said sleep from your eyes, you wish that was true.

Tip-toeing across the chilled floor, you shiver as your bare feet scrape across the hardwood, squinting in the fuzzy darkness. It takes a few minutes, but you finally step into the bathroom, running your hands across the door for a split-second before stepping across the threshold. Groping blindly, you make it to the toilet without much incident, doing your business before standing back up. Flushing, you wince slightly at the loud crash of the water, ears pricked for any sound of your wife rousing from the other room.

All is quiet, however, and you breathe out a silent sigh of relief.

Making your way over to the sink, you turn on the tap. The mirror in-front of you reflects the silver glow of moonbeams rising into the room from the tall windows near the ceiling and you force yourself to keep from staring into the pockets of darkness looming behind you. Your own face is pale in the light, your eyes basically nothing but deep shadows and you shiver.

What if I said "Bloody Mary" right now? You think impulsively, before shaking your head. That's so dumb, oh my God.

You make quick work with the soap, turning off the water after a second. You breathe a sigh.

But what if--God no, shut the fuck up, brain. You swallow, beginning to turn back around and make your way back to the safety of your covers and your Lady's embrace. It would be so easy though -- Bloody Mary. . .