#I hear you whispering Daddy Issues in the background just stop that right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arinbelle · 3 years

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So this is insane!!!! I literally never leave this app lol. I am also shooketh by the most popular posts I've had, and it's made me realize, I need to updae Suits like yesterday because...almost 400 notes?!?! Insane.And I will...eventually.

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#commander cassian and daddy gavriel was its own fandom and i'm convinced it was a fever dream but it wasn't it was real and omg i loved them

My Top Posts in 2021

Suits (Nessian AU)

Notes: Hello! This was an unexpected update. I didn’t think I’d ever finish this chapter, but lo and behold, it’s here! I don’t know much about law school and lawyer life, but I’ve been lovingly helped by @moodymelanist and @kingandfireheart and am very grateful for all of it. I’m also looking up a bunch of things and trying to stay as completely accurate as possible, but if you are a law student or lawyer and I mess something up, I’m sorry in advance. Anyways, I hope you all like this chpater. It’s not much “plot” mostly angst and vibes and setting up the background if nothing else. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist- I’m pretty sure I added everyone who asked to be added, but this was surprisingly a large taglist so if I missed anyone, please don’t hesitate to let me know. As always, I hope you enjoy and I’d love to hear about what you’re thinking when you’re done!

~*~

Chapter 2

5…4…3…2…1

Thank the Gods.

Nesta shot out of her seat as soon as the clock struck 9:30 AM. She was done. It was done. She could get the hell out of here, away from this cursed day and cursed building and cursed life and just-

“Alright everyone,” Cassian announced, glancing to the clock on his left. “That’s it for our first day. If you check your online modules, you’ll see the chapters that I’ve assigned for your reading. Be prepared for discussion next class. I’m not assigning write-ups because it’s your first week but you better not slack off on reading because of it.”

People began filing out and Nesta, bag already ready to go, also began rising, hoping to shuffle out with the tide and avoid any interaction.

“Nesta Archeron?” Cassian called out.

Nesta froze in her path while the rest of the class began leaving. She looked at him but unlike her, Cassian seemed the picture of calm, collected and utterly aloof to the disaster happening in her head. In fact, he’d been completely normal throughout the entire class period. Nesta had almost hurled up her guts when they were ten minutes in.

“Nesta? Archeron?” Cassian looked around again until finally he saw where she’d stopped. A few feet from his desk, body stll angled towards the door as more students made their way out.

“Come here please," Cassian said to her.

"Come. One more time, baby. Come for me. I know you want to," Cassian had whispered to her as he'd pushed her through climax after climax after climax, and she'd become a boneless mess on his bed.

Nesta shook her head of the image of him dipping his head over and over between her legs. She didn't need her brain doing this to her. Not right now. Not as she came to stand right in front of him.

Nesta noted quite a few students still ambling out of the room, taking their time to likely listen to whatever Cassian wanted to talk about.

Busybodies.

Cassian cast a cursory glance behind her shoulder, noting the same thing and likely thinking the same as her too.

Cassian moved then, bringing his laptop and typing something in. Without looking up at her, Cassian said, "I got an email from the registrar that there's been an issue with your scheduling in this class. Can I please have your full name and student ID?"

Nesta hesitated, not sure if he was telling the truth or using it as an excuse to talk to her.

Nesta rattled off the student ID number she'd just memorized that morning, assuming she wouldn't need to but wanting to be careful either way.

"Nesta Katrina Archeron."

Cassian nodded as she spoke and typed a bit more.

"And what's your birthday?"

Nesta almost snarled, telling him it wasn't his business. But there were still two other students in the class that hadn't left yet.

"June 19."

Cassian didn't type anything in, and Nesta followed his gaze as it landed on the last of the stragglers exiting the room.

Almost like a switch flipping, that calm, professional demeanor that Cassian had adopted for all of class time, easily dissipated.

In it's place was a look of anger so deep, so cold, Nesta had no idea how to respond. She'd never dealt with Cassian's anger when it wasn't for something dumb that he could easily over. When it wasn't from a place of laughter and faked irritation. He was genuinely upset in this moment, and Nesta didn't know how to go about it.

"What. The. Hell?"

Nesta's lip curled back of its own accord.

"Don't you dare take that tone with me. I'm just as much fucked in this as you are."

Cassian opened his mouth to say something back, retort with just as much spite as she'd all but hissed at him. But then he stopped, reared back as if in shock, and sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging.

"I'm sorry," he apologized hoarsely, bracing his palms on the table between them, head hanging lowly. "I just don't get how this happened."

I do. We never told each other anything useful about ourselves.

But Nesta kept her mouth shut.

Cassian looked up after a few seconds of awkward silence. "You didn't tell me you got into law school."

Nesta swallowed, not wanting to meeting his hazel eyes in declaration of the painful truth. "I didn't tell anyone except for a few people," she admitted reluctantly. She hadn't even bothered with a phone call to her two sisters when she'd gotten the news. Just a text into their group chat and two "Congratulations" in quick succession had been the response she'd gotten to finally getting her life together. She wouldn't begrudge them for the behavior, even if it did hurt to be snubbed.

"You didn't even tell me you wanted to go to law school."

Nesta shot back her own grievance. "You didn't tell me you were a lawyer."

Cassian looked at her in confusion, brow furrowed, and Nesta resisted the urge to smooth it out with her fingers.

"I thought you knew."

"How the fuck would I know?"

Cassian flinched and his eyes darted around them again, in the empty room.

Right. She needed to stop panicking. Trying again, Nesta lowered her voice and stepped closer to the desk separating them. “Sorry. But how I would have known? You never said anything.”

Cassian opened his mouth and then shut it again, eyes widening in some sort of realization that he wasn’t about to share. Shuffling some papers into a stack, he muttered down at the floor. “I just thought you did.”

Nesta shook her head. Sighed. “Okay. I’m going to go speak to the registrar and get this class changed.”

“No. You can’t.”

Nesta scoffed. “I can and I will. It’s the first day. They can’t stop me.”

Cassian moved around the desk until they were properly face to face. Too close. This was too close for any respectable professor and student to be around each other. Nesta took a step back and Cassian seemed to realize his mistake, cringing slightly before also stepping back.

“Sorry,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But they won’t let you drop the class. Crim law is a requirement here for every first year.”

“Surely there are other...teachers.” She wouldn’t say professor. That was too weird for her.

Cassian nodded. “Yeah, but Nolan's a piece of shit and known for being a hardass with his grading. You can't get higher than a B and that's if he tolerates you."

"I'll take my chances," Nesta snapped, turning on her heel and making her way towards the door. But a firm grip on her wrist pulled her back.

Nesta forced herself to calm her thoughts and emotions. Let the cool mask slip on that she’d mastered for so long. Let him see that version of her instead of the confused, heartbroken mess she had suddenly become inside the minute Cassian had put his name and “Professor” into the same sentence.

“What?” It was a biting question and Nesta knew that if it were any other man, they definitely would have flinched away from the stare she was leveling at him.

But Cassian wasn’t like any other man that had been in Nesta’s life before. Not in the ways where it mattered at least. Where others would have realized just how dangerous a game they were already playing, Cassian seemed to be ignoring it. Pulling her just enough that she had to come closer. Had to feel his breath fan across her face one last time. Knew that this would be the true end to whatever they may or may not have become one day.

“Stay. Don’t drop this class. You need to do good this year.” His words were softly spoken. Almost coaxing her gently into acceptance, but Nesta heard the underlying meaning.

“I don’t want a good grade in this class because you fucked me,” Nesta retorted sharply.

That did get to him. Cassian jerked away, releasing his hold on her. His eyes turned cold and Nesta felt the animosity hit her like a slap. She knew all about slaps. And Cassian’s expression hurt her more than any of them before. She’d always known she’d push him away one day. Her indifference, her attitude, that callous cruelty of her mouth. But she hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to see his reaction to it.

Cassian held her stare with a firmer one of his own. “You won’t. You’ll earn it just like everyone else in your class. But unlike with Nolan, you’ll earn what you get fairly. Don’t drop the class, Nesta. I won’t tell and if you choose not to either, well, nothing happened then. Nothing has to happen.”

Nesta knew then that later on she would replay his words over and over in her head until she may cry. Knew that they had left a profound impact on her in a way that she never wanted him to.

Nothing happened.

Sure she’d kept it that way, with her rules and arrangement. But it clanged around in her mind, how Cassian saw what they’d been doing together as.

Nothing.

She was nothing. They were nothing. And that was all there was to it.

But Nesta wouldn’t do this in front of him. Lose her mind and have it be pointed out just what a crazy bitch she really was. Not by Cassian. She couldn’t bear that. And she sure as hell wouldn’t go and tell on him, even if he had spoken as if he were unsure about her decision.

Instead, Nesta squared her shoulders and nodded.

“Nothing happens.”

Cassian hesitated, for a bare, fraction of a moment, but she saw it all the same. Then he nodded too.

“Nothing happens.”

~*~

Nesta leaned back against the chair, as Gwyn looked at her wide-eyed. She’d been overwhelmed by the fiasco of her first class. Had barely focused on anything the professor’s said throughout the rest of her day. She hadn’t even bothered to take out a pencil in the later afternoon classes and had fumbled around in her bag for one when an attendance sheet passed around in one of her smaller classes. Had it not been for the man sitting next to her who’d silently handed her a pencil with a small smile, she would have faced even more embarrassment on an already shitty day.

She’d seen him in a few other classes of hers, vaguely remembering his face from Cassian’s class as well. Nesta had sneaked a peek onto the sheet when he’d taken it after her, signing “Lucien” after impatiently pushing his red, waist-length hair out of his face. He’d given her another smile after he’d passed the sheet on and Nesta had returned it tentatively. She wasn’t one to smile at strangers. Barely did it with people she knew well too unless they were her friends or...Cassian.

So she’d called up her friends, praying to the Mother that they wouldn’t be too busy for her. Emerie had already graduated law school. Was already working for a legal clinic in the downtown area and loving every minute of it. Gwyn was usually always busy completing her postdoc program for psychology, but she too had made time for Nesta today. Had likely heard how rattled she sounded on the phone and had picked Emerie up on the way to their favorite bar to meet Nesta there.

"So..." Gwyn started, her eyes darting towards the bar for a second, "What do you call him?"

Nesta scoffed. "Nothing. I'm not going to talk to him or address him if I can help it. Just going to keep my head down, do my work, and get through the semester."

Emerie sat back down then, another margarita in hand and wordlessly handed it to Nesta, who accepted gratefully. She'd need another one soon with the topic at hand.

"Okay but valid question. What if you have a question? I know you're a genius or whatever, but you're going to raise your hand and talk. And either way, he’s going to cold call eventually. You can’t get away with not talking to him. So, what’s the plan to talk to him? Professor? Cassian?,” Emerie asked matter-of-factly.

But then with an evil smirk, she added in with a sultry tone, “Daddy?”

Nesta smacked her friend’s shoulder faster than Gwyn could stop her. Gwyn who was currently howling with her head thrown back, not a care in the world at everyone around them watching. Emerie rubbed the spot where Nesta had landed a hit with contempt but Nesta narrowed her eyes right back at her.

Gwyn eventually wiped tears from her eyes, slowly catching her breath from the laughing fit Nesta thought really wasn’t necessary.

It wasn’t that funny.

Gwyn placed a comforting hand on Nesta’s shoulder and Nesta leaned slightly into it. The last thing she needed to hear were jokes about this horrifying situation. Comfort was all she wanted.

“Leave her alone, Emerie,” Gwyn chided. “You don’t know what you’re talking about saying things like that.”

Nesta sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

Finally, someone understood how she felt.

Gwyn nodded. “No problem Nesta. I’m on your side don’t worry. You just need to keep your head down, avoid speaking as much as possible, and whenever you absolutely do need to talk, just call him Professor Daddy.”

“Bitch.”

Emerie joined Gwyn as they laughed even louder.

Nesta hissed, "You two are useless. I’m having a dilemma and here you two are cracking jokes about it.”

“Because it’s funny!,” Emerie insisted. “Who would have thought, Cassian, the guy you’ve been seeing, the one we haven’t even met yet by the way, is not only a lawyer, but your new professor. I mean honestly, it’s like a match made in heaven.”

Gwyn muttered under her breath. “Hell. It’s a match made in hell.”

Nesta went to smack her too but Gwyn nimbly got to her feet, announcing that she was going to go order their food.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know he was a lawyer. Goes to show just how smart miss perfect is going to be in school.” Emerie chuckled again and Nesta reigned in a mean comment that wouldn’t bode well.

Nesta rolled her eyes instead. “Fuck you. I’ll manage. And besides, it’s not like I didn’t Google him. I did.”

Emerie raised her brows, as if to say, “But did you really try hard?”

“I did!,” Nesta insisted. “I looked up Cassian and his address but I couldn’t find shit.”

Emerie furrowed her brows in confusion. “You just put in his first name. What about his last?”

Nesta shrank back in her seat. “I...um...I didn’t know his last name until today.”

Emerie didn’t show her surprise at that. Nor did she show any judgement. Both her and Gwyn knew that her and Cassian’s relationship was more based on sex and less on private and intimate details. She also didn’t say how pathetic that was of her, or how stupid considering this was someone Nesta had let into her house and her bed.

Indeed, what if he had been a serial killer like Gwyn had warned about all those months ago?

Emerie pulled out her phone, flicking her eyes up at Nesta after putting in her password. “Okay what’s his full name?”

“Cassian Virin.”

Emerie looked like she was choking. A strange fizzing noise seemed to be coming from her lips but she looked more on the verge of screaming rather than laughing.

“You’re fucking with me right?”

Nesta glanced at Gwyn as she sat back down, putting away her credit card and the receipt of the meal she’d just ordered for them all. Nesta peeked at the bill. Tacos. Thank the Mother. Gwyn knew exactly what she needed in that moment.

Snapping her attention away from dinner, Nesta shook her head at Emerie, knowing she hadn't heard wrong when Cassian had spoken earlier that day.

“No. I heard him say it. Cassian. Virin. That’s his name.”

Emerie stared and stared and stared.

“What?” she finally snapped.

“What? What? What do you mean what? You don’t know who he is?”

Nesta stared blankly. Emerie let out a sound of exasperation before typing on her phone and shoving it towards Nesta.

On the screen were images of Cassian. Cassian with the men whose photos littered his home- his brothers most likely. Cassian with some leggy blonde who Nesta admitted secretly she hated on sight just for how close she was posing next to him. Cassian in picture after picture, article after article.

Nesta’s eyes scanned impatiently over the words on the screen, devouring every news report and article until finally she realized what she’d missed completely. Cassian wasn’t just any lawyer. He was known as one of the best criminal defense attorneys in the state of Illinois.

“How did you not know this?,” Emerie demanded once Nesta explained her revelation.

Nesta was mildly affronted at that. “I...don’t really know. I’m not from here like you two are. I lived in California for most of my life. I wouldn’t have known anything about him. And it’s not like I went to law school for four years to figure out that he’s a celebrity,” Nesta added on, shooting a look at Emerie with her last sentence.

Emerie leaned back in her chair, not at all affected. “Yeah I know. I keep forgetting since you’ve adapted so well.” Turning to Gwyn, Emerie asked, “Remember how she came here sounding like a Valley girl before.”

Nesta gave her the middle finger as Gwyn giggled.

Nesta had met Gwyn and Emerie as a freshman in college during her first shift at a local bar. Gwyn had been a senior, well on her way to graduating with honors and starting her Masters program in Neuropsychology. Emerie had come from Evanston after her undergraduate years and was attending The University of Chicago Law School. Nesta still considered it fate that five years later, it ended up being the same school Nesta ended up being accepted to and attending. The two older girls had taken Nesta in, under their wing, and the friendship had been easy and safe. For the first time in Nesta’s life, she felt that she belonged somewhere. After her sophomore year, Nesta thought her life was almost close to perfect. Especially when she met-

No. Not going to think about that today.

Nesta ignored the dark train of thought her mind had almost taken her to and instead tuned back into the conversation that was happening around her. Gwyn was doing an impression of Nesta’s apparent valley girl accent and Emerie was doing a horrific, overexaggerated Chicago one, with both girls asserting that Nesta switched between the two of them all the time.

Nesta smacked them both before digging into her tacos.

Damned witches.

~*~

Nesta kept her head down as Cassian spoke to a student in the front row about the assigned case readings. Her previous night’s swagger had been kindly reduced to smithereens after she’d gone home and taken in the readings she needed to finish for Cassian’s class...

And every other class she had too.

Nesta had been ready to quit the night of, regretting the night out she’d stupidly had with Gwyn and Emerie, no matter how fun she’d found it to be. She’d powered through on spite alone at the thought of messing up on only the second day, in Cassian’s class no less. The rest of her work for her other classes had only been helped by espresso shots. Nesta was wired for the better part of early morning, but not the fatigue was finally beginning to catch up with her.

Nesta was writing down the spare few words that she was able to pick up on, but her sleep deprived brain could do little in terms of actually paying attention and creating concrete notes that would make sense if she revisited them. She’d definitely regret it whenever she sat down to study, but Gods she was so tired.

Nesta got a vague sensation of being stared at. Of being watched. But she ignored and continued writing nonsensical words onto her paper. A sharp jab in her side caught her attention.

A panicked Lucien beside her whispered frantically to her, “He called on you twice already. Say something!”

Nesta was confused. She looked at Lucien for a little longer, his words still not quite processing with her.

“Archeron.” Cassian’s voice cut through the fog in her head and she snapped her attention to the front of the room. Cassian was glowering at her and to Nesta’s horror, her feeling of being watched had been completely accurate. Everyone was staring at her.

“Yes?” Nesta cleared her throat, not liking how meek and disoriented she sounded.

Cassian sighed. “I asked you what you thought of your classmate’s response. Do you agree or not? And why?”

Fuck her. She hadn’t heard anything useful. Hadn’t been paying enough attention at all.

Nesta chanced a glance at Lucien sitting next to her, and he had what she thought to be a mirroring expression to her own on his face. Horror, panic and absolute embarrassment.

“I...I don’t know,” she finally admitted. Didn’t want to say she hadn’t been able to focus long enough on whatever he and the other student had been saying to even fake an answer. She simply didn’t know.

Cassian nodded a few times, more to himself than anyone else. “Do you have any opinion at all about what you were assigned to read last night?”

She did. Tons actually. But suddenly, Nesta felt the eyes on her narrow in scrutiny. Could practically hear their thoughts out loud.

Not good enough. Not smart.. Useless. Not worthy.

You don’t belong anywhere, Nesta.

Nesta couldn’t bring herself to say no, knowing that admitting defeat rather than trying to overcome the nerves was the better option. It didn’t matter that she did know what was going on in class. Or that she wasn’t an idiot like it looked like to the entire class. Nesta simply shook her head, tightening the muscles in her face as tears began blurring her eyesight. She would not cry. Not like this.

Cassian’s face flickered with some sort of emotion, one she couldn’t place, but it was there and gone.

“Disappointing,” he announced, stare still leveled on her. She could feel the tension crackle through the air. It would have been better if he’d yelled at her or kicked her out of the class. Instead, he’d all but called her a failure, and now she’d have to sit through the rest of the class with that hanging over her.

Which she did.

Painfully. Angrily. Upset and barely composed.

But she did it.

And as she began packing up her things at the end of the period, Lucien giving her a small pitiful smile that she barely returned, Nesta contemplated how quickly she could run out of the room without looking directly at Cassian.

Except, as fate would have it, she was not a favorite in the world by whatever Gods had created it.

“Nesta,” Cassian called out softly, just as she began walking by his desk in the front of the room.

Nesta steeled her spine, sighing in defeat as she made her way over to him.

Cassian didn’t speak to her as she came to stand in front of his desk. Didn’t even look up from his computer screen, typing in Gods knew what. Nesta was about to leave, rules and proper manners be damned, but the last student finally walked out of the room.

Finally Cassian looked at her.

“What was that?,” he asked lightly, crossing his arms across his chest.

Nesta decided to feign ignorance. “What was what?”

A sly smile played on his lips. “Cute. But not wise. Why couldn’t you answer today?”

“Because I didn’t know the answer.”

Cassian cocked his head a fraction, examining her. As if the entirety of her was wrong, not just her response to him.

“I hope you understand there was no right or wrong answer. It was a discussion to help orient your thought process and how you analyze the material. Which you would be able to participate in as long as you read what you were supposed to.”

“Well, I didn’t finish the readings.”

The lie sat and tasted bitter in her mouth. She hated it. Hated admitting weakness in such a horrible way. In a way that wasn’t even truthful, just to save face and not have to admit the profoundly large effect Cassian had ended up having on her.

Cassian chuckled. A dark, sinister thing that Nesta hadn’t been privy to witnessing ever. He walked around his desk until they were again closer. Again with far too little space between them. Again with those glinting hazel eyes peering down at her.

“Now that’s funny. Because it’s almost believable except you’re not the person that doesn’t do your homework. In fact, according to what I saw from your records and application, it’s not in your nature to do so.”

“You read my application?,” she demanded, furious with a touch of panic. "How did you even get it?”

Cassian scoffed. “One, I didn’t read all of it. I just saw your coursework, your grades, and your letters of recommendation. I didn’t read your personal statement, don’t worry. And two, all the professors have access to student records.”

Lie. That had to be a violation of some sort. He so didn’t have access to shit. What he did have, Nesta would begrudgingly admit, was a beautiful face and a great smile. and way too much charm for anyone to be oblivious to it.

Nesta didn’t respond, so Cassian continued.

“Great grades. Stunning observations about your work ethic as a student and determination to come to class prepared by almost everyone who wrote you a letter. So, I don’t think you’d fuck around on your work. Especially not on the first week of classes.”

Nesta couldn't deny it any longer. “Fine,” she expelled in a quick breath. “I finished the readings.”

“All of them?” Cassian confirmed.

“Yes. All of them.”

“Then why not say something today?”

Nesta sighed in defeat. “Because I wasn’t paying enough attention the first time around with whatever you and that guy were talking about. And then everyone was staring at me and I...”

“You panicked and forgot what you had to say? And even if you did, you knew it would come out completely wrong and be mortifying?”

Nesta nodded miserably, looking at her shoes, biting her lip.

A cool set of fingers grasped her chin and tilted her face back up. Cassian forced her to look at him. Wouldn’t let her run away from it.

“it happens,” he said softly. “You’ll learn. You’ll be okay.”

She half wondered if he was telling her more for himself or for her. Nesta didn’t dwell on it, knowing full well how this was going to end. Carefully, she pulled back from him, from the hand that was still grasping her chin, and Cassian seemed to remember who they were and what they were doing. Or, what they weren’t supposed to be doing.

“Thank you,” she said awkwardly.

Cassian gave her a small smile and she returned it weakly.

“Well, I should go,” she announced after a few awkard seconds.

“Of course. Don’t be late,” Cassian let out in a rush.

Nesta had almost made it to the door when Cassian called for her again.

“Yeah?”

Cassian looked at his laptop before glancing back at her again.

“You did really well in your undergraduate years. Except for junior year, your grades were terrific. You took the LSATs on time too and you scored really well,” he summarized neatly. Nesta could feel bile climbing up her throat as Cassian added in quickly, “And you scored even higher than me!”

Nesta didn’t know what to say, knowing where the question was likely heading.

“So why take a year in between college and law school? I saw that you worked as a paralegal, but with this application, I can tell you, you would have gotten in without it.”

She’d been right about what Cassian had been going to ask her. She also knew that this was not the question she would be answering today. Not today, not with him, and likely not ever. Nesta decided on a simple lie instead.

“I couldn’t afford the tuition. So I decided to wait the year, work more than I can ever do right now and get a head start on loans and saving money. It also helped me settle down into my apartment rather than a college dorm.”

“You’re still working?,” Cassian asked surprised, not commenting on what she’d revealed about her tuition. She could have handled it but that year had been nothing to do with money and everything to do with Nesta’s personal turmoils.

Nesta shook her head. “I quit once I got accepted, but looking at that bill every month is making me worry that it wasn’t smart to do that. So, not currently working, but I want to soon. Somewhere closer to school though. The other firm was too far away from here for me to make it work.”

Cassian’s brows raised slightly at the confession. “Most students aren’t advised to work during 1L. You can do it if you really need to, but it’s not a requirement and it makes classes horribly difficult to get through.”

Nesta thought about it. Knew he was right but that she didn’t exactly have a choice. “I’ll be fine,” she told him.

Cassian looked at her with a more pronounced smile than before. “Of course you will sweet-....um...Nesta. You’ll do great. Have a good rest of the day.”

“Thank you.” Nesta ignored his slip-up, his pet name for her that she’d acted irritated by but secretly loved. Ignored the pang in her chest as she turned away from him.

Nesta walked out of Cassian’s classroom, not sure if she felt lighter or heavier from the moment that she’d stepped back into it.

~*~

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262 notes • Posted 2021-07-02 05:32:10 GMT

Scandalous

Nesta and Cassian one-shot, 4.9k words

A/N:Hello lovelies,

The other day @darklove9314-blog asked if there are any Nessian pregnancy fics and I remember thinking well yes I read a great one just the other day, but also, a fun new project for me? So I wrote this. Also, I have decided to begin finishing up half finished or almost finished fics so this is one that I can happily say is leaving the drafts box.

And please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed to my tag list.

Warnings: Blood, Violence

Tagging: @bookstantrash @duskandstarlight @moe8 @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @vasudharaghavan @allilal @cassianscool @courtofjurdan @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @greerlunna @sayosdreams

Enjoy🤗

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It was scandalous.

That's the first thing Nesta can think of. The entire situation is scandalous and if she were still a human woman, she'd be ostracized from high society. Not that she would have cared what other people thought of her. Especially not in that behemoth they called a home bought for them to keep their pretty silence from the High Lord who'd caged her sister. Nesta would have lived her human life in scandal without batting an eye given how wealthy she had been.

But here, somehow, it felt wrong. Nesta didn't think she'd ever find a place more traditional than the human lands. But then she'd come to Illyria. Part of it was misogyny. But it was also that the people were rooted in tradition.

There were superstitions she'd learned slowly, carefully. Sometimes painfully, when she did something not quite right and just enough wrong, and got scathing looks from people nearby who were now sure they'd end up with the wrath of a god smiting them. But with time she learned and never made those mistakes again.

The traditions, the culture, ran deep in Illyria. And it was beautiful.

Nesta thought it to be at least. As a human, they didn’t have Gods or holidays or much tradition to fall back on. And while Nesta had hated it in the beginning, the holidays that weren’t hers, the decorations and food so unlike their own, illustrious as it may be, she began a slow acceptance of it. Not in Velaris, no never in that place. She couldn’t stand it anymore- court of dreams or not.

But in Illyria, Solstice was unlike the awkward, dissonant celebration she’d been forced to go to at the behest of her baby sister. It was loud, and not in the way that Mor had been when she’d joked about Cassian’s gift to her. It was warm, even though it was freezing in the Steppes at that point in the year. It was natural- it wasn’t forced on her part, to enjoy the holiday with her friends and invite them over to the house for presents and dinner. And most of all, it was a choice. Cassian let her choose to have a party or not, choose to join him for a celebration in the town square or stay in the comfort of her room. And the choice, the decision of it all, was probably what made her love Solstice that second time around.

She knew her sisters didn't have the same proclivity towards the Illyrian people as she did. Regardless of the fact that one of them wore the wings and marks the females were often stripped of even dreaming of having before they came of age. Regardless that the other remained cloistered away with the constant company of a male who hated his people so much for the faults of a select few.

Nesta didn't hate them for it, and they certainly weren't ill-willed in how they acted.

It was just...a disconnect. Feyre couldn't understand why after the war with the Queens ended, Nesta did not follow her back to Velaris. Elain couldn't fathom how Nesta could enjoy such "dangerous people" for constant company.

Nesta had simply lied and said she wished to learn more about her powers, and the few females of Illyria that still practiced witchcraft had happily agreed. Viciously agreed in fact, almost snapping their sharpened teeth at the Lady of Night who they didn’t like on principle. It wasn’t in Nesta to gossip about her sisters and their messy relationship, but it didn’t take much for them to figure out how much was wrong between them. How wrong they were for sending her here.

It wasn't all a lie. Nesta did train with the other witches, now more a leader than a student however. When their oldest Matron had passed after a millennium of life, she had named Nesta to be trained to take over one day.

Not that the one day had come soon. The training had been rigorous. Daunting. One didn't just become the Matron. It took blood, sweat, tears, and then a little bit more blood , preferably of someone who'd pissed you off that day. Nesta always threatened Cassian to be her victim if he displeased her too much. Cassian had once laughed and told her to pick Feyre instead, promptly shutting his mouth as soon as it out, realizing his mistake.

Her sisters never came here anymore. Sometimes Feyre would send a letter asking very politely if Nesta would come over to Velaris and join her and Elain for some tea. They always had so much tea together. Probably afraid to drink alcohol the entire lot of them constantly seemed to be drowned in. Because to drink alcohol in front of Nesta...

Nesta who'd been sober for years now. Who could now easily stick to a few light sips of wine at a dinner party or be wrecked alongside Emerie on hard liquor just because it was fun, and still not turn into an alcoholic mess.

It was also almost scandalous how put together she was now. Almost. Nothing on her particular situation, but almost.

Cassian wouldn't be home yet. Still in Velaris for Mor's belated birthday celebration that Nesta hadn't even bothered to refuse the invitation to. That Cassian hadn't even bothered to bring up anymore. She wouldn't be going. Not after the fiasco of the previous year. And if Cassian didn't have Nesta insistent that she not be the wedge between him and his family, he wouldn't have gone either.

Oh she had her reasons for avoiding them all- the list too long, too detailed, too painful. She had never liked her sister's mate for one thing. Had found him too pretty. Not in looks, although he certainly had that going for him. Too pretty in how he acted. Like he was above it all. Like he was too good and his wife even more so when all he did was play foolish parts and masquerade as a villain that no one cared to refute.

But, she had been willing to try.

She'd sat at that dinner table where everyone in the Inner Circle and her sisters were gathered. Had quietly listened to their jokes and regales and tried to laugh when Elain and Feyre attempted to include her. She'd completely ignored the constant staring on Cassian's behalf, even though she knew he meant well. She was determined to get through it all without a fuss.

But then Feyre had gotten up unexpectedly, boasting of an announcement that needed to be made. That mate of hers had swept up with her, a hand wrapped around her waist as she raised her cup of juice and announced that she was pregnant.

And Nesta had nearly fallen over in the chaos of it all. The cruelty. The shock still silence that seemed to morph into ringing in her ears as everyone but her jumped up to scream their congratulations. Cassian had risen, barely whispering his words of kindness before sitting back down next to Nesta, eyes now unwaveringly trained onto her.

To her credit, she'd lasted an entire hour after Feyre's announcement. Had chugged two glasses of wine down without hesitation...but still. She'd lasted.

But then Feyre had told Cassian she couldn't wait for him to meet the baby and for the baby to meet Uncle Cass. And Nesta had felt the floor begin to shake so hard as she felt fissures in the ground crack open. Breaks that no one but Nesta seemed to feel apparently as everyone around her continued on like the world was fine.

But it wasn't fine. None of it was fine. It was a cruel, fucked up, joke. A conundrum. A mess of despair and broken dreams. And definitely not fine.

Which was exactly what she'd told her baby sister. I'm fine. Thank you for asking. No it's just some pain in my head. Yes I'll be fine. Of course I'll be fine. Enjoy your party.

And that was the end of it. Should have been the end of it.

Except the High Lord didn't think so. He’d snorted and muttered under his breath that of course she was leaving. Then he’d announced grandly that of course some people just can’t manage to be happy for their family, because it was easier to be selfish and hateful.

Feyre hadn't said a word at his insult. Nesta chalked it up to shock because the alternative was too painful to consider. But Cassian had stalked forward, snarling as he pushed Rhys into a wall. Nesta had scrambled to get in between, a palm on her lover's chest pushing slightly to get his attention.

"That's enough,” she had whispered into his neck. Cassian’s eyes had lowered a fraction down to hers, one hand still wrapped around Rhys’ throat.

But it was enough. Cassian had backed off instantly, much to everyone's surprise.

Nesta had told Cassian to enjoy the party, not even looking at the High Lord whose face had gone bone white at his brother’s threat. Told him she would sleep off her headache at home and hadn't given any room for argument. Her own issues aside, this was still his family.

As she left, Nesta didn't hesitate to kiss her sister on both cheeks, hug her for the first time in years, and whisper congratulations on the joyous news into her ear.

Because it wasn’t selfishness or cruelty or hate that had stopped her from expressing her wishes sooner. It had been grief. One that she had no interest in explaining or sharing with anyone in the room who had judged her.

Feyre had nodded, mouth slightly agape, perhaps still consumed with her husband's accusations and Cassian's outburst. But she had known, some kind of bond that ran deep in their blood regardless of their jagged history. They were sisters after all. Feyre had figured it out to some extent, so she had simply hugged her tightly back and told her to go.

It wasn't even a full day later than Amren had come to Illyria without warning, knocking on her door for ten minutes at dawn until she’d had been woken by the noise. Nesta had snarled something unworldly as she threw open the door, only to find Amren completely unfazed.

Not even a hint of remorse in those wicked eyes as she asked how far along Nesta had been when she'd lost her youngling.

Nesta didn't remember ever crying so much as she had done that day. Didn't know what came over Amren to cradle her head in her petite lap and stroke her hair softly as Nesta wept, and wept, and wept.

Cassian had found them there a few hours later, neither having moved, but Nesta a lot calmer albeit exhausted from all the tears.

She heard rumors that the High Lord and his second never got along again after that dinner party. And vicious as it was, a part of Nesta was glad for how fitting it sounded.

Nesta didn't know what this strange emotion tingling through her was though. She had been pregnant before. Even got far along enough to begin showing through her tops. Until she had lost her baby and her stomach had flattened back down, her breasts following suit not long after. The stretch marks on them could have made for glorious battle scars of motherhood if only for the fact that she had never gotten to hold her child in her hands.

But tradition in the Steppes was to wed before having younglings. Cassian hadn't cared the first time around, even though he was born of similar circumstances.

"It's not the same. I'm here with you. I'm not going to leave you to have a child on your own as an outcast. Rules be damned."

But then he'd also asked her if she wanted to get married anyways. A snort from her had answered that question.

Rules be damned indeed.

But this time...what was it this time?

Nesta realized that it was guilt when she climbed into their empty bed.

It was guilt she felt as she nestled down into the covers and ran her hand over the white sheets. Sheets that had once been stained with crimson that had run down her thighs in the middle of the night. Crimson that Nesta had screamed herself hoarse at when she'd seen it, screaming for Cassian who was on a mission at a rebel camp and couldn't hear her.

Everything after was a blur. Someone had heard her and called for a patrol of soldiers. A warrior had apparently flew to their bedroom window and seen her in the middle of the miscarriage, shattering the window with his Siphons and flying her over to the healer's barracks.

By the time Nesta came to, it was just her. No prominent bump left. No morning sickness. No beating heart in her womb that she would always listen for to soothe herself and fall asleep to. It was Nesta all alone again.

And it was guilt that Cassian hid well from her as well. Just not well enough. His absence wasn't his fault just as much as he said the loss of their babe wasn't hers. Half true. It was only half true in her mind and Nesta would likely never forgive herself for it.

So Nesta thought of the scandal at her having a second pregnancy, again out of wedlock, after losing her first. The ones that still hated her would say it was because she was a whore.

It was exactly what they'd said when she hadn't left her room for a month because listening to the Illyrian children laughing outside had been too painful to stomach.

A whore who had fucked too many males in Velaris and ruined her chances of having a healthy womb. The healers assured her that wasn't the case, even if Nesta didn't quite believe it. And now, people would say that Nesta was a whore for getting knocked up again without a wedding band on her fingers, tempting fate to steal her second chance at joy by not unifying her bond at an altar with a priestess.

Nesta didn't need to be married to Cassian to know she was his wife. He didn't need to swear anything in front of anyone to know he was her husband.

They were lovers. They were equals. They shared a home. They shared a life. They were madly and hopelessly in love. It was all what spouses should be anyways.

They were mates and they were spouses and she was his and he was hers.

A piece of paper and chants in a temple didn't change any of that.

And then there was the scandal. The Illyrian scandal that hadn't happened yet but was just waiting to implode. As a human woman, she would have lost everything without the wealth they had if she'd been pregnant outside of marriage. It wasn't that this didn't hold true in Illyria, it was just that she was powerful here. Feared even more so. No one dared question the witch, even if she was spitting on the expectations they had of their females. It also helped that Cassian would likely murder anyone if the gossip she'd heard of herself actually reached his ears.

But in Illyria, she wasn't just having a child with a random soldier without being married to him. She was having Cassian's child.

The Commander's firstborn.

And the Commander's firstborn was always a male that could carry on the line of strong soldiers and multiple Siphons. She'd heard the soldiers talk of Vibasi, the third commander in Illyrian history. His firstborn had been a lovely little baby girl. A girl who'd mysteriously disappeared mere days after her birth. Her brother two decades later was called the firstborn and made into a formidable soldier by the sacrifice of a sister he didn't even know existed.

Speculation of course.

No one wanted to admit that while children were supposedly cherished amongst the Fae, given how rare they were, females and bastards didn't matter either way.

She thought about how fitting it would be then. The Commander's firstborn being a female. The child of a bastard General being a female and being celebrated. They'd be spitting on tradition two-fold.

If Cassian didn't mind that is. He might. She didn't know if he would care, she was assuming he wouldn't. Hoping. Praying actually. Because she loved him too much to think anything like that could matter to someone like him. Who woke up two hours earlier just to make sure the females were trained on par with the males. Who forced every single camp Lord to push for equality even when it required him to kill and take on the stain of death over and over. Nesta didn't think a male like Cassian could ever care that his firstborn was going to be a female.

Female according to the anxious healer who'd informed her in a hurried whisper and almost pushed her out of the barracks through the back door, urging her to keep it to herself as long as possible.

But Nesta didn't keep secrets from Cassian, or he from her. Not in years.

When she awoke again after a fitful sleep that hadn't endured through the night, it was early. Too early to get up but too late to do anything. For Nesta at least.

Cassian, from what she could hear, was already back to work in his office. Probably reading reports and signing documents that she always told him she could take care of for him.

When she decided to investigate, she was pleased to find she was right. Heaps of papers, a Faelight almost burned out, and Cassian scrutinizing a report like he would a battlefield. He didn't even bother to look up when she entered, extending an arm out instead, eyes trained on the parchment at hand.

She took the arm quietly. Let it wrap around her waist as he pulled her close, a wing rising up to curve behind her as well. It was all the invitation Nesta needed to crawl into his lap and nestle in closely, as he curved the arm and wing tighter around her.

Safe.

This was where she felt safest. Even with all the doubts of the unknown, the fears of where their future would lead, in this moment, she felt safe.

“Do you know about Vibasi?” she asked without warning. Not the best way to say she was pregnant perhaps, bringing up a murdering piece of-

“Yes. Vaguely. Why?” A knowing glint in his eyes that edged on teasing came to face her. “You’re not reading those strange history books again are you? I told you they aren’t accurate.”

No. She was going off of rumors she’d heard from soldiers sitting outside a bar and drinking, half drunk on absinthe and historical trivia. “No bat, I’m not. What do you know?”

Cassian put down the papers, and leaned back in his chair, taking her with him. He shrugged, likely not understanding Nesta’s strange curiosity into a male who’d been dead for thousands of years.

“Vibasi was the third commander in Illyria. He was mated to a female who remains unnamed as they did to all the wives during that time. Two children in his 800 years of life, both went on to be dangerous males on the battlefield.” A perfect recitation from whatever history book he had told her not to waste time reading.

Nesta bit her lip, unsure of how to prompt anything further. “And the female?”

“His mate?”

Nesta shook her head, worry growing steadily greater. “No, the female...child. He had one supposedly. I was wondering what you knew about that.”

Understanding flashed in Cassian’s eyes along with the edge of something darker. So it was true.

Cassian got a look of discomfort on his face, one she had never really seen before. “It’s not talked about much.”

Clearly.

“Lots of historians say that the child existed and was murdered very quickly and discreetly afterwards. There were no records of her ever existing but you know how that works. Staff and servants are always aware, and you can’t buy off everyone.” Nesta nodded, very aware of the gossip that used to permeate her own estate when she’d been a human. Which stable hand was flirting with which maid when both were promised to other people. How much did the Lady who’d visited the other day give to the footman in shillings to tell her the name of her husband’s mistress. Gossip was quick, especially when the details of the crime grew in vulgarity.

“And is that...common?”

How do you feel about it? Will you be disappointed your firstborn isn’t a son? If she even lives to term? If my ruined body doesn't kill her first.

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he growls, vicious and low in the back of his throat.

That’s all she needs. Confirmation.

And then she’s drowning in guilt all over again.

How could she have questioned him?

Cassian. This was Cassian. Not some misogynistic, cruel male. It was Cassian, her Cassian. How could she be so stupid to think that he would ever do such a thing? Could even be capable of the thought?

The sob gets stuck in her throat, but forces its own way out through her clenched teeth and pressed lips. Startles Cassian who had thought the conversation was over so that he could go back to work.

“Nesta? What-”

“I’m sorry.” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to be so judgmental. Or even think so low of you. I was just worried, you know?” Cassian’s bewildered expression told her, no, he did not in fact know, because Nesta hadn’t explained anything. She’d just begun crying like the hormonal wreck she was, and scared Cassian into a panic.

It took half an hour for her hiccupping sobs to quiet, all while Cassian rubbed soothing circles in her back patiently. Much too patient considering it took another hour to stop the second bout of tears that happened after she began to explain herself, not getting very far at all after talking about the soldiers at the bar.

A jumbled mess of words sticking in her throat, all unnecessary details that Cassian really didn't need to know that she was sharing anyways. He didn't interrupt once.

When she finally, finally, manages to say it, she can't help but shudder. The words that tell him this is their second chance, a gift of possibility. Of healing.

If she carries to term. If the child doesn't die in her again. If her already unfortunate life doesn't manage to get worse, which for Nesta, isn't very likely. So many ifs, and not once does she tell Cassian about them.

There's no need.

He's remembering the first time too even if he's smiling and telling her he's so happy he doesn't have words. That his heart is so happy it hurts. That he's just simply happy. So happy he kisses her three times over and over and over. So happy that they don't talk about how it's going to be a girl because Nesta forgot to mention it in all the excitement and laughter and tears.

And then she's waking Cassian up after the rest he insists she needs, even though he's the one out like a rock. She's shaking and almost screaming at him to get up because he has to know. He has to know what's going to happen when their daughter comes into this world.

This world that's given her the love of her life but only after so much misery and misunderstanding between them. This world that has let her earn her peace but only after toiling for it with every ounce of ire in her bones. This world that has so much beauty if you have it in you to look and fight for it, but otherwise it's just cruel.

She wants him to know that she's going to bring a life into that world and it's not going to be easy for any of them. Not for Nesta, who is still seen as an outsider by some rare, few people in Illyria. Not for Cassian, whose enemies will use his daughter as a source of exploitation should they get the chance. And not for their daughter who will always be seen as second best where a son could have been better.

Cassian, the great beast of a male, understands right away when she whispers that it's a girl. Understands why she looks away concerned and puts two and two together on why she'd questioned Cassian's opinions on his predecessor's actions as a father. And Cassian, her heart, doesn't judge her for it. For questioning his integrity before revealing something she's scared he won't like.

She almost collapses into tears again as he brushes it off and asks her about names. She apologizes again, babbling about how it was unfair of her to assume something so horrific about him and also that she loves the name Nadyzva.

Cassian only brushes a forefinger over her cheek, ghosting over the threat of tears that may spill again while telling her that she'll make for a wonderful mother with how fierce and protective she's already being. That she should never apologize for putting the safety of her child first.

That safety comes in the form of trusting the Illyrian healers over the Velaris ones when it comes time to deliver. It comes in the form of just Cassian and her and the healer in the small delivery room. The only people she has been able to trust since she entered her final month of pregnancy and the instincts to protect surged and multiplied.

The pain is unimaginable, akin to how she felt when she was ripped apart from the inside out in the Cauldron. When she recalls it to her daughter years later, she will admit she doesn’t remember it well. It’s all fragmented pieces rather than a fully flowing story. Likely from the pain, or perhaps the analgesic, but her memory’s not the best when remembering the birth. She does remember the panic that happened halfway when it became too much to keep going. When this life she’d fought so hard to keep going after her first loss began to kill her slowly from the inside. She’d turned to Cassian, whose hand she’d shattered in her grip, and told him amidst great heaving sobs that she couldn’t do it.

“I can’t. I can’t Cassian, it’s too much. I’m sorry.”

But Cassian hadn’t hesitated to wrap the still broken hand around her and pull her back to his chest. To tell her she was the strongest person he knew in his whole life. And that to him, there was truly nothing Nesta couldn’t do if she wanted.

He didn’t tell her that the healer had briefly looked at him from between Nesta’s legs, fear dilating her eyes so much that Cassian could only see black pupil. He didn’t tell her that the scent of her blood was overpowering the scent of her tears, because the hemorrhaging was too much and too fast and if she didn’t finish pushing soon, Nesta and the child would soon be dead. Which would likely kill Cassian too from the heartbreak not long after. He didn’t tell her that particular admission until years later. Didn’t admit that he would have died had he lost them both that day until their daughter finishes the Rite and appears back from Ramiel’s peak. Bloody and bruised in so many places, looking like the perfect mix of Cassian’s will and Nesta’s pride in something that can only be described as wholly triumphant.

Most of all though, Nesta remembered being scared. So, so scared because what if she's a horrible mother? What if...what if she's exactly like her mother? She couldn't stand the thought of raising a child so hateful and hurting like she had ended up. Like she could have avoided becoming had her mother been a tad less cold and her father heaps less of a coward.

But when her daughter comes screaming into the world that she is so very afraid of, everything washes away. At least for the moment, there is a silent peace with no other noise save for the infant who seems to have the lungs of a warrior as she screams and shrieks and declares that she is gloriously here.

Here in this world that could ruin her. That tried to ruin her mother even though she kicked and shouted and stomped against it until it left her be. But she is safe for now.

Nesta thinks so at least.

She is safe, nestled to her mother's breast, a wing curving over the two of them in the place of Cassian's arms that has always made Nesta feel safest. Now a place for her daughter to share in that safety too.

But out of all the things Nesta does or doesn’t remember from her delivery, as she watches her daughter receive her Siphons, all nine of them, Nesta remembers what she felt the moment her baby been placed in her arms. Something that has never once wavered or dissipated each time she looks at her daughter.

Joy.

311 notes • Posted 2021-01-21 18:21:10 GMT

For They Were Gods

Nessian one-shot (NSFW) - 13k

Hello! This is my first post-ACOSF writing piece. It’s when Cassian and Nesta are on that mountain after she has the entire breakdown, and we got those two lines from her later how they...ahem...did the do for two days straight. Well I wanted to expand on this scene that we were robbed of. If there are typos, I’m sorry, I just can’t look at it again anymore. So many thanks to @bookstantrash who listened to my ramblings and musings as I wrote this fic. I’m so dramatic at times and she was supportive through it all. This was heavily inspired by all the hints of Cassian being Enalius reborn, and how Nesta is referred to as a queen so many times in the book.

I hope you enjoy!

~***~

Nesta’s arms were aching by the time Cassian finally reached for the sword from her grip and told her they were done for the day.

She felt drained. In all the best ways, but still, there was nothing but empty silence in and around her. Not in the way it had gone horribly quiet before she’d burst into tears on her knees, but in the way that only calm could do for her.

Pure calm.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such a way. Sure she had felt hints of it, in those moments when her body was ragged after training, or completely loose under Cassian’s ministrations. But it never lasted. That creeping dread always found a way into her heart, her mind, until all that sounded was that dark, raging fire of hers that she could never do much to quell the burn of.

This was not that. This was lightness, a burden lifted off of her shoulders. So many thoughts she’d had about her father, about herself, as a person, a daughter, a sister, a female. None of them good- not for her nor the people around her.

But this calm enveloped her tightly, as a mother would, if she’d ever had one that care enough to do so. Or perhaps a lover, if she had ever allowed him close enough to do that.

It held tight and it held firm and Nesta just breathed, breathed, breathed.

The air in the mountains was crisp, sharper, cleaner than even Velaris. She could feel something deep in the soil under her feet, or perhaps in the shimmering lake in front of her. Some sentience beyond her capability of understanding it- beyond time, beyond life as she knew it. Old and vast, rich with knowledge and understanding...whatever being had once walked here, or still did, Nesta could feel its presence warming her from the inside out.

“Take off your clothes and put them here before you go in,” Cassian called from behind her. She turned in shock at the statement as she saw him begin to undress, piling his jacket, then his shirt, onto the pack. The pack that was kept next to a...

Is that a sleeping bundle?

“You’ve had that this whole time?.” she asked, outraged at the soreness she could still feel from sleeping on hard ground for an entire week.

Cassian didn’t bother to reply though, smirking as he walked over to the lake, naked, and waded in.

Nesta did eventually relent when he didn’t turn around to call her in with him again. Why she needed him so much, she’d never know. She certainly wasn’t about to ask him.

Her clothes were filthy, and she knew she should wash them before going into the lake with Cassian. But that would mean crouching down on the bank, naked, and making a mess of the cloth and her hands.

It would also mean looking like an idiot in front of Cassian...no, she’d rather not.

The water was not cold as she’d expected it to be. Not warm either, but the cool lap of the gentle waves soothed her overheated skin, as well as her shot nerves.

Cassian seemed to be swimming small laps further into the circle of the body of water, but Nesta had no interest in taking part in whatever new game he’d created. She stuck to the edges, washing her body as best as she could with no soap or proper tub. Cassian let her be, content to swim his laps, circles really, not a care in the world that someone could see them in the still evening light should they walk by.

“Are you done primping yet?.” he mocked, finally turning around to look at her now wading in the rippling water.

Nesta flashed him a sweet smile. “Some of us don’t enjoy a week’s worth of dirt on our skin. It’s called hygiene.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “It’s called primping.”

“Ass,” she muttered, but slowly made her way towards him, only to stop a few feet away. Cassian snickered but said nothing more, and she wondered if it came naturally to him to be so lighthearted.

He looked calmer here too, in the wilds of the hills with the slowly setting sun behind him, sky turned crimson and violet all at once, and his skin gleamed copper against it.

Radiant.

Beautiful.

She had no place next to him here. Here in the stilling perfection of the scenery and Cassian, Nesta did not fit.

Cassian seemed to realize the train of her thoughts, to some base extent at least, because he reached out a hand to her, water splashing as it rose from his side towards her. He was always holding out a hand for her to grasp, never once wavering in helping her. He always helped her, brought her up, brought her forward.

What did she do for him? What could she do for him?

“Don’t do that,” he said softly, moving a couple inches closer, hand still outreached. “Don’t get into your head. Just come here.”

She would only need to float forward slightly, and then her hand would easily intertwine with his own, where he would likely pull her away from any lingering grief and doubt haunting her mind.

He always did.

“Come here Nes,” he coaxed again, gently.

She relented then, if only just this once after the storm of emotions that had ripped through her not too long ago. Sure the sword practice had helped, the tears had helped, but she needed more. She needed him.

Cassian’s hand was hot, callouses soothing across her own, and it was a gentle tug on her hand that got her pulled close to his chest, just like she knew he would do. She didn’t want to look into his eyes though, not that serene calm on his face with a hint of apprehension for her. She didn’t need to see it just yet. So Nesta focused on the view directly in front of her.

Tanned skin with tendrils of water running down the pectorals, circling in all directions over and on the whorls of tattoos on Cassian’s chest. It was instinct that had her hand rising up to trace them, to focus on him alone if only to calm the churning thoughts in her mind.

And Cassian let her. Held her waist with one arm to keep them wading above the surface, wings fluttering every so often behind him to do the work.

Cassian did not stop her, letting her trace and commit to memory each line, each curve and each lick of black ink that with every stroke of her fingers, brought her further away from what would happen when they returned to Velaris. What she would say to Feyre, if she even could speak-

Stop. Focus on Cassian. Don’t think of all that right now.

Only when the last rays of sunlight hit the horizon, and the world was aglow in the barest hints of the sun’s luminance, did Nesta stop her exploring on Cassian’s skin. It could have been hours, could have been days, even though her Fae senses told her it had only been a couple minutes since she’d gone to him. None of that mattered as she felt the calm return, stronger this time from when she’d waded into the lake and her horrible thoughts had attempted to resurface.

It was just Nesta and Cassian in this new perfect world, where they alone existed with each other. With no barriers to separate their skin or souls, she thought it to be the closest moment of perfection she’d ever gotten in her life. Even if this fantasy would quickly shatter as soon as they had to leave.

She could pretend for now.

So she locked her arms around his neck, pressing her front tighter to his muscled chest, and placed a soft kiss just where his neck began and his markings ended. Then another one higher up, where his pulse pounded like a war drum under her lips.

It was all the encouragement that Cassian needed before his hands circled her waist and quickly lifted her up to wrap her legs around his torso.

She was about to capture his lips with her own, but Cassian made to pull back.

Had she done something wrong? It certainly seemed so with the way his eyes scanned across her face, hazel eyes glinting with the full moon’s reflection, and body tensed to spring.

“Are you sure?” he asked gruffly.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He’d never asked her like this before. There had never been a true need for it. Nesta didn’t need to voice anything to Cassian when it came to sex, he just knew by instinct what she needed from him- what she craved, what she lusted for. Sure they were coarse with their language the entire time, but she didn’t need to say anything about what she needed from him. Or if she was sure of him.

She was always sure of him. That was never the problem.

Cassian blew out a soft breath, the warmth tickling her cheek as he pulled a centimeter closer. “I just don’t want you to feel like anything needs to happen right now. It doesn’t. We can just...swim.”

Nesta raised her brows at him, impatience getting the best of her. She pulled him closer, as best as she could given how she was almost hanging off of him, and nipped the bottom of his ear with just enough bite to get him groaning.

Nesta placed a soft kiss to the underside of his ear, and then nuzzled her nose across his neck, grounding herself with his scent.

“I don’t want to swim,” she whispered low in his ear.

A shudder went through Cassian as he held her tighter, and a smug bit of satisfaction coursed through her that she’d affected him so.

“What do you want then?,” he asked asked through gritted teeth.

Nesta smirked against his clavicle and then without warning, licked up the column of his throat, savoring the taste of his sweat and something else that was utterly Cassian. That had Cassian grunting and bucking his hips just a fraction up to her. Already she could feel his hardness poking into her stomach.

Nesta fixed her eyes on Cassian’s, challenge rife in both hazel and blue. But she would not bend this time, not even if she wanted to beg for him to fuck her and fuck her now.

Cassian broke first anyways.

He gave up any restraint he was holding onto and plunged his hands into her hair, pulling her roughly towards him to join their mouths.

Stroke for stroke she met every single movement of his mouth on hers, and then just to remind him how she wanted this to go, she bit down hard on his bottom lip, drawing blood. He pulled back, hissing, and she wondered if he didn’t appreciate it. But then Cassian gave her a feral grin, and the blood droplet that had gathered on his now swelling lower lip fell down his chin. She licked that up, body brimming with heat as his scent and taste filled her mouth.

Tang and copper and salt, and yet, somehow it was better than sweet honey in her mouth.

“You’re a naughty little thing aren’t you?,” he whispered into her ear, tracing the shell of the arched point before lightly nipping the top. She couldn’t help the yelp that escaped her at that, and Cassian chuckled darkly before backing away.

Before she could snarl at him to pick up the pace, to get to the point before she could remember everything she was trying to forget, one of Cassian’s hands snaked down to part her folds, thumb stroking her sensitive nub lightly. Just that small, teasing touch, and a burn began to build all over her skin.

One arm remained tightly wrapped around her waist, and Nesta held onto his shoulders with a fiercer grip as he used his other hand to pleasure her leisurely under the water.

But she needed more.

Nesta shifted her hips impatiently, as much as her position would allow her to do, desperately craving more friction between her core and Cassian’s fingers.

“Naughty,” Cassian murmured, still not giving her what she desired. “What do you want Nesta?,” he demanded roughly.

Nesta keened at that, the pure command in his tone, no longer teasing or lighthearted. This was the Commander, and he had asked her a serious question. No more playing around, thank the Gods.

“I want...oh,” she interrupted herself as Cassian plunged two fingers into her tight channel. She moaned low in her throat as he began scissoring his hands in and out of her, the scent of both their arousals rising to meet them in a heady pull.

She should finish the thought, yes, she should tell him she wanted to...Gods above that was good. So utterly good as Cassian reached to his member and placed it against her bundle of nerves, rubbing his tip over it. It was exquisite as he slid his length through her folds, slowly grinding his hips against hers, and yet never entering.

A different kind of torture for sure because Nesta knew she was close to breaking if he kept with the teasing any longer.

“Please,” she whimpered as he drove his hips towards her for the fifth time, still not inside of her in the way she wanted so much.

Cassian looked at her then, tearing his gaze away from between their joined hips under the water, and she felt undone under the scrutiny of his gaze.

Nesta was about to ask again, beg really, pride and ego be damned. But Cassian didn’t keep her waiting longer as he slammed his hips against hers, his thick length stretching her as he entered.

Nesta might have screamed, she couldn’t tell from the way she temporarily lost all sensation in her body, save for the one between her legs. Perhaps from the slight pain mixed with pleasure, from the size that was just too large to ever really get used to. Not that she’d ever want it any other way. He was the only one that could make her feel-

“Better?,” he asked, driving deep into her again, removing his hand from between where they were now joined to cup her breast.

Gods yes.

He palmed it roughly, scraping a fingernail over a peaked nipple that caused her to whimper almost embarrassingly loud. But Nesta was beyond caring. Not when Cassian adjusted her on his hips to drive deeper, higher up, hitting a spot inside her that was as toe-curling as it was brilliant. It was so good, so exquisite at how it hinted at the pleasure she could reach if only she had...

“More,” she moaned, her hands barely able to hold onto his wet shoulders as he drove up into her over and over again. “I want more.”

A plea she would likely regret as soon as this was all over, but she wanted to be screaming with pleasure. Drowning in it.

Cassian stopped moving inside of her then, weighing what she’d asked for. His eyes scanned the water around them, probably thinking the same thing she had already figured out. No balance, not enough grip on anything underneath them, and no way to stay upright as they worked each other harder and harder- no, the lake would no longer do for the kind of fucking she wanted. The kind he wanted too if she’d guessed correctly on the predatory intent in his eyes that was mirroring her own.

Cassian pulled out of her in a fluid motion and she hissed at that too. At the slight sting as he left and then again when the current swirled under them to her too sensitive skin. Then without warning, his arms wrapped her up to his chest, and Cassian brought them out of the water.

He set her down on shaky legs, her body still ramped from the unfinished sex and skin chilled from being wet and bare on a mountaintop. Cassian was quick in pulling out a towel from his pack- one she had no idea he’d been carrying this whole time. After she handed back the towel to him, body still damp but no longer as wet and cold as before, Cassian pointed at the sleeping bundle and told her to get in. She listened without asking how he planned to make them both fit. She’d let him finish toweling off first.

Answers came in the form of a zip on the side of the fluffy contraption that she hadn’t noticed. As Cassian pulled it free, more cloth and filling fell out, and Nesta realized there was indeed enough room for them to share the pack.

Joy at knowing she wouldn’t have to deal with the hard, ground floor at night almost made her forget why they were here in the first place. Why they had left the lake so quickly and interrupted from what would have been a most interesting joining. Almost, but not quite.

Not at all actually when Cassian looked over her again, at the breasts on display, and at the only part of her covered by the blanket from her waist down. Cassian’s look alone had her core growing hotter, aching with need as she felt her wetness grow.

Cassian smirked at her, no doubt scenting her arousal from that one look.

Smug bastard.

But he didn’t tease her as he eased himself in beside her, laying her down before climbing over her.

“How do you want it?,” he asked gruffly, lips brushing over her neck, her jaw, her too tight skin almost bursting with longing.

Words failed her at that moment though. How to voice her desire for him, just how much she ached to be filled with him, and not come off as completely undone. But she’d been undone by Cassian long before they’d shared a bed together. Long before he’d even kissed her and his lips had been like fire reignited against her skin.

Nesta had been undone and ruined for Cassian the moment he’d tasted the skin on her neck as a human woman, leaning close to the heat of the fireplace behind them, lust and something more snapping stronger between them.

“Do whatever you want,” she breathed, still not quite sure how she could breathe so calmly with how close they were. Almost nose to nose that she could count out exactly eight flecks of amber in his left eye, seven in his right. Some of his hair was drying and a few strands fell over his face, brushing over his eyes and her cheek. Before she could tell herself not to, her hands were already rising up to tuck the silky black strands behind his ear.

Cassian stilled as her fingers grazed the underside of his jaw, still holding the bottom of his hair now looped behind an arched ear. Then, so slowly she almost cried out in anticipation, Cassian nudged his face a few inches, leaning into her palm and pressing a soft kiss to its middle. A barely there kiss, a phantom touch, but she felt it like lightning had struck her palm and traveled all the way down her arm, hitting straight into her chest.

It wasn’t often that they indulged in...that. That being the softness in between their joinings. The tenderness she did not allow herself to wield and him to bask in. Nesta realized though, in that moment, how much they both had needed it. Had craved it.

The sex was world imploding for her. Him too she knew. But she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she longed for more, even if she knew that could never be. And Cassian wasn’t the problem.

She was.

If she let him, Cassian would stay in her bed long after being spent on each other’s ecstasy. If she let him, he would hold her, gentle and soft in all the ways their couplings were the opposite. If...but she never would.

Cassian did not need Nesta in the way that Nesta needed Cassian. Cassian was all things good, all things right in the world, and Nesta’s world had always been anything but that. Gone were the days when she could fantasize about being a sweet princess who would be saved by a dashing knight to save her from the fearsome monster who’d made her his prey.

Nesta was the monster. Nesta did not need saving by Cassian.

Cassian needed saving from her.

But perhaps, here, in this rugged terrain with not another soul around them for miles she could pretend. She might let herself indulge in the fantasy a little while longer.

That she was not this wretched mess that Cassian was so sure would heal and one day not be broken. That she could let Cassian hold her and she could touch him with gentleness and not have him shrink away from her in horror. Here in this vast unknown, Nesta and Cassian could just be them, with no one to judge or condemn either of them for what they wanted deep in their hearts.

So Nesta let herself forget and raised her neck to kiss him softly. A gentle kiss if they’d ever shared one before. It might have been their first since he’d pressed his lips to hers on that battlefield almost two years ago.

To her shock Cassian gave in with a groan, soft and reverent as his mouth moved on hers, so delicately she could have cried from it.

“Answer me,” he finally whispered, a broken male’s plea against her swollen lips.

“I told you. Whatever you want.” It was an impatient demand, one she knew did not tell him what she needed. But she figured she would let Cassian do whatever he was in the mood for. As long as the end result was him deep inside of her, driving her to brink of collapse, she cared little for how he’d take her.

“You said that to me once before. And I told you that’s not very fun. Do you remember?” As if to remind her of that first time they’d slept together, at the palace atop the Court of Nightmares, Cassian drew a hand up to her breast. Pinching her nipple just as he’d done with her then, her back arching in want from the sting of the pull and the pleasure of the sensation.

She did remember. It had been world shattering for her then too, that first time, and she had known from that one time alone, nothing and no one would ever be enough for her again. But she had no intention of letting Cassian in on that. So she dragged her hand out of his hair, creeping down his chest, his flexed stomach, and made to grab-

Cassian was faster. Twisting just so to circle her wrist and pin it down behind her head.

“Nesta,” he growled out a warning.

“Fine,” she relented, almost whining at how long this was taking for her to just get him inside of her. “Fuck me like you did when I told you that. Like you did at the palace. Do that.”

Cassian’s face beheld an amused smile and she almost shied away from how brazen a request it was. “Whatever Lady Death needs,” he finally said.

She could have rolled her eyes at that comment. Probably did show something like it on her face, because Cassian huffed a laugh as he let go of her wrist and snaked it across the planes of her stomach, down to the apex of her thighs.

A groan caught in his throat as he cupped her, and Nesta hips arced up slightly at the unexpected touch, only coming down as Cassian soothed her with idle strokes along her folds.

Soft, lazy, and not at all what she needed in that moment. So Nesta ground her hips up against his palm, only for Cassian to pull back completely, kneeling between her spread thighs as perhaps punishment for being too demanding.

“Greed will get you nowhere,” he admonished, his fingers tickling slowly up the underside of her thigh.

“So what will?,” she challenged. Perhaps not the wisest decision as Cassian leveled her with a calculating stare, mapping her breasts and flushed skin as he would any battleground. How to conquer as swift as possible, how to ruin with each timed attack of his fingers. His tongue perhaps being the first break against her fortress until the rest of him could follow suit.

Cassian did not answer her though. Instead he went back to her core, sliding two fingers up along the outside of her folds, joining atop the hood of her sex but never quite touching it fully. It drove her absolutely mad as he did this over and over, taunting that arch of sensitive flesh but never giving her what she wanted.

“So beautiful. So fucking wet. Is this for me, Nesta?,” he rasped as he slid two fingers inside of her easily. Nesta held in the moan, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut as he brought his other hand to press and rub her swollen bud that had been pleading for his attention.

To answer truthfully would have repercussions- taunts and arrogant comments on how good he was making it for her. Not answering may mean he’d torture her longer and draw out the teasing to an unbearable degree.

“You know it is,” she finally admitted.

Oh he liked that. So much so that Cassian gave her a broad smile, teeth glinting white in only the moonlight, and the beauty of it nearly stole her breath away.

And then he withdrew his fingers from her, bringing them up so that they could both see the wetness coating them. He was a fiend she decided then. An absolute, filthy fiend as he slid the two fingers against each other, testing her wetness and want, before lifting them to his mouth and tasting her on them.

“Well you certainly taste like it,” he finally said after he was done.

Nesta snarled at the audacity and would have started grabbing for him again if he didn’t fix her with a stare that was so heated, so tantalizing, it had chills running over her skin.

“Turn around then.”

The command alone could have sent her careening over into climax with all the promise it held. Cassian’s tone was dark, so sensual that she briefly forgot to move onto her front, so enraptured she was by the male kneeling before her. Thankfully Cassian seemed to pick up on it, hefting her up by the waist and gently spinning her onto her stomach for her.

She knew the view before him would be his own undoing, just as Cassian, sweaty, shirtless and panting in the middle of training was hers.

“Just like last time?,” he asked, kissing a path up from the bottom of her spine to the eight-pointed star that bound them together. He rested his lips there longer than he needed to before brushing aside her hair and pressing a final kiss to the nape of her neck.

Nesta didn’t know if she could keep the tremor out of her voice but she’d do her best. “Just like last time,” she affirmed.

Cassian growled in approval, lifting her hips off the bottom of the sleeping bag as he straddled her from behind.

“But,” she started, and Cassian stopped as soon as he heard it.

That he would end this all with even the slightest of hesitation on her part hit something deep in her heart. Memories she’d smothered long ago of traveling hands and ripping skirts that she didn’t want to recall in this moment.

Nesta tried again, ignoring the horror that had resurfaced unexpectedly in her mind. “But, don’t hold back like last time. I want all of you, unrestrained.”

Cassian let out a noise of shock, or perhaps it was arousal. She turned her head to look at him from behind her shoulder, and amusement shone on his face.

“I would have hurt you last time,” he explained. He was right, she knew that. Larger than any male she’d ever taken, coupled with the fact that she was a lot smaller than him and he too thick for her, she knew it would have hurt her had he not prepared her body slowly that first time.

But this was no longer their first time together. And if Nesta let herself dare to wish, she would hope that they would never part, not just for sex, but for everything else between them that was still unfinished.

“Maybe,” she admitted, “but you won’t anymore. And besides, I’m not afraid of a little pain.”

That got his attention. “You like pain, Nes?,” he chuckled as he asked, palms roving over the smooth expanse of her back in deliberate strokes along the sides of her spine. Kneading and pressing in all the right spots that she moaned at the small massage instead of answering.

“Not like,” she amended herself, “but I don’t mind it.” And then, just to get his blood boiling for all the teasing she’d been put through, Nesta added, “But I can like it if it’s done right.” The last bit was both a confession from her and challenge to him.

Pain and pleasure mingling together in a heady blend always worked for Nesta to heighten her senses with whatever she was doing in the bedroom. She didn’t need it every time, certainly not when Cassian alone was more than enough to utterly break her apart with each climax he gave her. But she did like it to some degree, and she knew Cassian wouldn’t judge her for it.

Cassian seemed to appreciate the bait she’d dangled before him, promptly dropping his head down to bite her shoulder in a quick nip that left her hissing. When his tongue flicked out to soothe the reddened skin, she knew he understood her then. Knew he’d know exactly how to make it hurt and burn, with pleasure and pain, just for her.

She felt him grip his cock behind her, rubbing it between her folds before aligning himself to her drenched entrance. When he didn’t move further, Nesta wriggled her ass back into him, and one of his hands came down to slap against the cheek, holding her away in a rough grip that did little to soothe the sting of his palm.

Nesta couldn’t help it. She moaned, loud and only slightly smothered by the ground underneath her.

“Like that don’t you?,” he murmured, knowing she’d never answer yes.

Yes she’d liked that very much...too much.

Cassian shifted his hips, lifting her own up slightly off the ground to meet him better, and then he surged forward until he was completely sheathed.

Nesta didn’t know how each time they joined it felt like the first time. New and good and unexpected. Every time she felt different, better, even if they were to do the exact same thing over and over. It felt perfect in those moments, those stilled barely there moments between him entering her and then starting to move.

That moment of just being joined, being one with each other, never ceased to take her breath away. As if they’d been forged of the same fire that licked over her skin and made her feel warm and aching all over. As if whatever Gods had crafted her, had kept him in mind. How well he would fit in her, how perfectly she would take him, and how easily she would lose herself in him.

Thoughts of perfection and destiny quickly faded from her mind though as Cassian began thrusting in earnest into her. He was letting go, just like she’d asked for- at least, as much as he was allowing himself be.

Garbled moans and half screams filled the night air amidst his own grunts as he hit deep into her walls. So intoxicating and yet...something was missing. He was still locked away, not fully taking her in the way she knew he could do if she gave him full permission.

But she had told him to let go completely and he hadn’t listened, so now Nesta would need to change tactics. She clenched her inner muscles around him once, twice, and Cassian snarled at her, hands tightening their grip on her hips as if that would stop her from teasing him.

It was an impressive attempt though, she’d give him that, and Nesta laughed softly as she clenched around him again for good measure.

“Witch,” he snarled again, “You’ll ruin it all if you keep doing that.”

“Fuck me harder and I’ll stop,” she shot back.

“You’ll get hurt,” he grunted, and to her irritation, slowed down his thrusts as if to prove a point. Nesta leaned up on her elbows and turned her head to look at him.

He was panting lightly, not from exertion but perhaps restraint. On himself, she realized, for that was full blown lust in her eyes to a depth he’d never let her see before. His hair framed his face in a wild, wind torn way, and she knew it was from what they were doing, and not the still air around them. That air was charged with something heated and sharp as their eyes met. Understanding on her part and remorse in his own. And then he pulled out of her in one fluid motion and Nesta had to strangle the urge inside of her that was ready to beg from him to come back.

“I’m fine,” she told him softly, perhaps more for his sake than hers.

“I don’t think so,” he admitted, and before she could strike down the truth he’d spilled, “and that’s fine.”

“No one expects...” he stopped, and then amended before continuing on, “I don’t expect you to be fine. I’d be worried if you were. But I don’t want to take you too roughly right now if-”

“Stop,” she interjected, patience completely gone, “You don’t want? What about what I want? You don’t get to decide what is good for me and what isn’t, what I can handle and what I can’t. Only I can make those decisions.”

“Nesta,” he soothed, trying to calm her down. Only she was beyond listening to reason, beyond caring.

“Do you know what I want Cassian?,” she asked.

Not waiting for a reply, Nesta pushed up with the flat of her palms until her back hit his chest, and turned her neck to look up at him. Cassian’s hands glided over her bare skin, wrapping a solid vice of muscle across her stomach to hold her to him. Everything was too hot, too much as she really felt the warmth seeping into her body from his chest, from his arm over her stomach that just brushed the swell of her breasts. And his breath, light and warm as well, fanning over her cheek as he beheld her a few inches below his face, was almost enough to get her completely calmed down.

Almost.

Nesta told him sharply, “I am not a doll. You never treated me like I was breakable. Not like everyone else I know did and I liked that. Don’t start now.”

Cassian sighed, his head dropping down to brush his lips across her shoulder in a solemn kiss. In apology. “I’m not trying to Nes, but you had a rough couple of days. A hell week really. I’m not saying you’re breakable,” and he fixed his stare resolutely on her. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Nesta didn’t say anything to that, instead wrapping her arm behind his neck and pulling him towards her. The kiss was slow, burning, and everything their heated frenzy earlier had not been. How long had it been since she’d let herself enjoy just this? Just...kissing him. The simplicity of it all.

But then Cassian nipped at her lower lip and just like that, she was liquid in his arms. Warmth pooled more and more in her core and she extracted one of her hands from his hair down to his hardened length. Gripping the broad head of him, she ran a finger over the slit, eliciting a hiss from Cassian that skittered over her skin like she wanted his hands to do.

Nesta murmured against his neck as she continued stroking him, “Do you know what I want?,” she repeated.

Cassian groaned a deep sound in the back of his throat as she gripped him tighter, just enough to bank on that line between pleasure and pain that she herself loved to toe. A line she was willing to bet Cassian could wrap her up in and ruin her with.

“I want bruises,” she whispered into his skin. “I want to see them for days afterwards, everywhere you touched me, and remember everything you did and how you left your mark on me while you fucked me.”

Cassian stopped moving and stopped breathing as he let her words settle into him. She peeked up at his expression through her lashes, wondering if what she’d asked for was too forward, even for them.

It wasn’t.

Cassian pressed a bruising kiss to her lips without warning, more teeth than tongue but she didn’t mind. His hand came out to wrap across the back of her neck and then he was pushing her back down to lay on her stomach. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she’d get exactly what she’d asked for now, but suddenly the fabric under her breasts and navel felt too scratchy- it was teasing her sensitive skin with every little jostle she made.

Nesta felt his fingers ghost down over her spine, over their shared ink and then the swell of her backside, resting in between her legs to cup her from behind. She moaned into her arm, stifling the sound before she could embarrass herself any further.

Cassian crept over her then, situating the hard planes of his body over her back, hand still slowly caressing her core in lazy circles. Just when she thought he’d finally start with her, Cassian came up to her ear and whispered down to her.

“Who does this belong to Nesta?,” he asked, sliding two fingers into her sex.

She whimpered at the motion, the easy slickness that he was feeling around him.

“Answer,” the command came to her. It wasn’t often that she let males use that dominating tone on her, or even bothered to let herself bend to it without putting up a fight. But giving up control to Cassian was a different sort of release, as welcome as it was heady. “Answer or I’ll stop right now Nesta,” he lightly threatened.

“You,” she finally breathed out.

“Good girl,” he crooned, the praise going straight to her core, making her painfully aware of how wet and unfilled she still was. She got a kiss on her spine for her answer and if he hadn’t moved away so quickly, it could have been her lips too. But he was denying her, teasing her all over again.

“And this?,” he asked, rubbing her smoothly over her bundle of nerves. "Who does your pleasure belong to Nesta?”

“You,” she quietly revealed.

Finally, he pushed his cock to her entrance, not quite entering, but the head of him just starting to stretch her opening slightly.

“And who rides you hard enough to make you come Nesta?” His hands crept into her hair, tangling into a mess as he clenched around the roots.

“You.”

It was all he needed to move forward, sliding in and in and in until she was so filled she could have screamed. When his hips snapped, she knew she was done for.

Uninhibited, wild, and unchecked was all that Cassian had become then. All that he had made her become too with how vigorously he began pumping into her. Harder and harder he rammed into her, hands pulling back sharply on her hair until her back arched so much so that she could look up at him above her.

He slowed to leisurely thrusts as he let go of her hair, instead circling his hand across her throat. Not enough to make her cry out, but squeezing with just enough pressure to make her keen backwards into him, lifting her head up in a silent plea that he answered as he slanted his mouth down to hers.

He tasted like her, at least some part of him did since he’d put his fingers to his mouth while still coated with her essence. He also tasted like embers and mountain-kissed wind and Nesta knew even if she kissed him everyday for the rest of her immortal life, it would not be enough to sate the longing he’d awakened in her.

“Cassian,” she whispered raggedly, no longer able to form enough words with all the intoxicating pleasure erupting through her body.

Thankfully, Cassian had never needed Nesta’s words to know what she wanted from him.

“I know. I know,” he murmured into her hair.

He didn’t let go of the hand circling her throat, even when he pushed her back to lay flat on her front again. This time, Cassian pressed his complete weight down on her, and damn it all but she had never felt more alive feeling pushed like that. His hand from under her closed tighter her around her neck and a broken sound escaped her lips. His other hand drifted down between her legs, pleasuring her as he pressed his weight at her back completely on her.

There was no part of them that wasn’t touching as he began to move again inside her. And he when he returned to the pace he’d left off at, hard enough for his balls to slap her skin as he pounded into her, his muscled chest heaving along her back, Nesta knew she’d come with his name screaming from her lips within minutes.

She had been right.

Just as she’d felt Cassian’s breath begin to shutter, she knew he was close, and so did he, as he moved his fingers faster against her and began to coax a climax from her in time with his thrusts. Just the right angle timed with a rolling of her swollen bud had her crying out for him and only him, over and over until she crested into climax. It was so jarring she screamed into the night, the echo bouncing around the open mountain air the high wore on and on until she boneless under him.

It didn’t take long for him to follow her down, gasping her name in a chant as he spilled into her so forcefully with his thrusts, that some of it began to leak out onto her thighs long before he left her channel.

And then...true silence, save for their quiet panting as time began to speed back up to reality.

“Gods,” he gasped finally, pressing a chaste kiss over her tattoo, barely able to keep his weight off of her anymore. She wondered what he would say if she told him she wouldn’t care if he completely fell over her, just as long as they never stopped touching.

“I know,” she conceded quietly. And that was all she said, all she could say given how spent she’d become.

They did not move for some time. Perhaps from the force of their climaxes that had left them weak or perhaps because they didn’t know who would move away first and declare that rift once more.

It was always Cassian who left her in her bedroom. But this was not her bedroom in the House of Wind and they no longer had the luxury of separate beds. Really, they didn’t have the luxury of a bed at all but who was really keeping track. Certainly not Nesta who could still feel the jagged edges of small rocks that she’d slept on top of for the past week aching in her muscles.

When Cassian rolled off of her, she almost pleaded at him to not, to stay against her forever, bare skin to bare skin, forever entwined.

She peeked a glance beside her, arm thrown over his forehead as his chest continued heaving, his skin now glistening lightly with a thin layer of sweat. She had to be in worse condition, hair likely frizzed from his pulling and lips swollen and flushed. She couldn’t find it in herself to care though. Not when it meant she had been marked in some way by him, even if the signs would eventually fade from her skin with time.

Nesta turned on her side if only to look at him properly. She’d get away with it too, considering his eyes were shut tight and he’d never catch her ogling.

She wanted more though. Couldn’t get enough of him, of them, and she knew that it didn’t matter how roughly he’d just taken her, how hard she’d come, hard enough to see stars temporarily. It would never be enough.

Cassian opened his eyes unexpectedly and turned on his side too then, facing her. If he didn’t say a word, she would have been fine with it, would have been content to just stare into his eyes and get lost in the moss and amber that called to her like nothing ever had before.

“Are you alright?” A shadow of worry lingered on his face. “I wasn’t too rough was I?”

“I’m fine Cassian. Stop worrying about me.”

In fact, if you want to be worried about something, just fuck me again and I’ll feel loads better.

Cassian reached out a tentative hand to stroke along her neck and Nesta felt it then. The soreness from where he’d gripped her neck.

“You’re bruising,” he said, horror alight in his eyes.

“I asked for that,” she reminded him gently. But Cassian couldn’t stop being transfixed by her skin, and though she couldn’t see the light purple beginning to bloom, she could feel it’s tightness. A subtle ache which may have been upsetting for some, but for Nesta all it did was spur her desire into molten ore again, and just like that, she was ready for him.

“Nesta...,” he began, clearly about to chide her and likely ask to examine her neck again.

He needed the distraction, clearly she thought, still not moving away from where he’d marked her. So Nesta sidled closer and tucked under his own neck, leaving him no room to fuss over her anymore. She pressed her lips softly to the hard knot at his throat and then an open mouthed kiss to his collarbone.

“Mmm, that’s nice Nes, but let me just look.” He tried again, inching his hands to her neck, but she was quicker.

She deftly twisted his fingers with her own, interlacing them and moving them to rest at her waist. “If you want to use your hands so badly, I can think of better ways to put them to work,” she whispered against his skin, licking a tendril of black ink across his chest.

He peered down at her for that comment, and to her delight, it seemed to work as he let go of her hand to rest along her midriff. He then glided down over her navel, erupting gooseflesh all over her body, and then rested his hand firmly at the top of her sex, not quite down along the folds where she wanted him.

“You’re still soaked with me,” he sighed, pulling himself closer until she could slip one of her legs between his long, muscled ones.

Nesta smiled, still too cuddled up to his chest to look at him properly, knowing how handsome he’d look with the small smirk that would no doubt be playing along his lips.

“Is that a problem?,” she asked coyly, running a hand down his chiseled stomach, marveling at the muscle that flexed underneath.

“Fuck no,” he growled, finally teasing two fingers down her slit, gathering his seed and her essence from her opening and then slowly rubbing it along the apex of her sex.

She mewled at the sensation, just this side of heaven until Cassian stopped and flick her sharply, eliciting a hiss from her at the small hurt. At the sting that bordered on pleasure, bunched into a lustful combination that had her canting her hips along his hand as he continued working her wetness. Nesta dug her hand deeper into his chest when Cassian slipped two fingers inside and curled upward. The shock at the feeling had her nails pushing sharply into his skin, so hard that she smelled blood in the air and could faintly make out arcs of red on his chest when she moved her hand away.

“I don’t mind,” he reassured her. And then with a savage grin he leaned close enough to brush his lips to hers, before adding, “I also like it when you mark me Nes. Hard enough so that I can see them days afterwards and remember how good you felt when I fucked you.”

Nesta couldn’t handle it anymore, this relentless teasing with his hand and his words pushing her closer to another climax. She grabbed his hand and moved it away from her thighs, pushing him back down from his side, careful of the wings underneath them. And then Nesta climbed over his powerful legs astride him in the way she’d been craving for since she’d entered the lake with him.

Cassian’s hands came up to rest on the tops of her thighs, digging into the supple flesh that she hoped he’d mark too.

“You didn’t even let me taste you,” he told her with a bemused pout.

Nesta laughed at that, gliding her nails softly down his chest, making sure to grind her lower half against his as she did so. Cassian’s hips bucked up to her, sending warmth pooling in her core at his hard, hot length brushed against her ass.

Cassian’s hands skittered over her stomach and Nesta fought for control to not squeal at how much it tickled. No doubt if Cassian ever found out, he’d never leave her alone. But thoughts of all that quickly fled her mind as he came to cup her breasts with both hands, a greedy look taking over his face. Kneading and tugging just how she liked it, Nesta groaned quietly at the sensation, grinding down harder on him as he canted up to her.

“I love seeing this,” he murmured before rising up at the waist to lock his mouth around her breast, caressing the nipple in small teasing licks that had her whining.

“Seeing what?,” she managed to ask, almost lost to all reason except for how good he felt under her and how good his mouth felt on her pebbled skin.

Cassian switched to the other side of her chest, ignoring her question and lavishing all of his attention on her other breast. It left her wanting, so much so that she grabbed his hand and placed it brazenly on her other one. He chuckled at that but heeded her desire with a firm squeeze, the vibration around her nipple sending her gasping as she dove her hands into his snarled hair. Harder she tugged on the night black strands as he continued licking and kissing at her breasts, switching between them over and over until her skin was raw and reddened from his mouth. As were his lips which she hungrily captured to her own, savoring the taste of his skin mingled with the scent of her own.

“I love seeing you atop me, ready to ride me. It’s the perfect view. I can see your beautiful breasts,” he moaned, palming one of them roughly again. “You don’t know how much I loved these, from the moment I first saw you in your old home as a human. You don’t know what it did to me.”

Nesta had some idea, always catching his quick glances down that he thought he was being discreet about. She’d hated how men leered at her before- whether they were stupid boys or older men. She hated them all as they sized up her body like a prize to be taken. To hurt and touch without her permission.

But when Cassian would look at her...

Even without having ever taken a male to bed before, barely even enjoying kissing them, Nesta had lost all reason and propriety from the moment Cassian’s heated gaze had met her own. She had wanted his lips on her, his lips at her breasts, his mouth moving between her legs in the way that her romance novels regaled about. She wanted him, but more than that, she wanted him to want her. To take her over and over in every way she could tell he wanted to as well. But she had never let herself act on it, save for that moment of weakness when he’d come to deliver a letter for the human Queens.

That day had been her undoing.

But this...what they were doing now.

This was her unleashing.

“What did it do to you?,” she asked, breathless with the knowledge that his answer would likely shatter every ounce of control she was trying to keep, and she’d want to start riding him rather than letting him prolong his foreplay.

Cassian kissed fire up the column of her throat, sucking hard on the delicate skin above her pulse point. “I wanted to taste them, taste all of you. I wanted you on your knees, sucking me down your throat just how you do now, hard and deep, and then I wanted to see how perfect you’d look when I came all over them.”

Mother above. So crude, and yet, she couldn’t help but relish in it.

“Would you have let me?,” he whispered along her clavicle, pressing a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

Nesta thought about it for a few moments as he grazed his nose slowly along her throat, content to let him explore in a way she didn’t allow much back in Velaris. She would have, she decided. Even if she’d never been turned Fae, with the way he had flirted and fought back to her from their first day together, and the way she’d been enraptured by his presence, she’d have let him take her to his bed.

“Yes,” she said simply.

He backed up to face her properly with a small grin on his face that could only mean trouble. “You’re telling me,” he began incredulously, “that the woman who I met, as a human, who wore layers and layers of skirts, who hadn’t ever been with a male before, wouldn’t even let me kiss her, would have let me do all that?”

She snorted. “I would have let you kiss me. I just didn’t like your arrogance that day.”

Then, just to play with his ego a little more, Nesta leaned forward and purred in his ear, “If you’d returned another day without the attitude, I’d have let you do anything you wanted with me.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” she confirmed.

Cassian gave her a wicked grin as he leaned back on the palms of his hands. “Would you have let me lift up those skirts and fuck you over your desk? What about these sweet, pretty lips?,” he traced a finger along the seam of her mouth and she darted out her tongue to swirl around it. “Would you have let me fuck them too? Swallow every drop I gave you?”

She shouldn’t have answered, not with the filth he was spewing that made her toes curl. But it couldn’t be helped- he’d see the truth in her eyes.

“I would,” she insisted. “I don’t know why you think I wouldn’t. If I hadn’t been taken by Hybern and turned-”

She stopped herself, realizing the mistake she’d made. How much she’d revealed about what lay in her heart. If he’d wanted to bed her as a human woman, she would have allowed it eagerly. If he’d wanted more, she would have wanted that too. But being turned by the Cauldron, coupled with Elain’s catatonic state and Feyre’s dangerous liaisons as spy in her former Court, had all left Nesta reeling. There had been no time for a relationship when her own head felt like it would burst with each day she lived in the strange Fae world of her youngest sister. She was just now beginning to acclimate to the new home.

There had been no time for Cassian, or so she told herself.

Cassian, of course, knew where she’d been going, but he didn’t push further, simply leaning forward to kiss her softly. She returned it with equal gentleness, ignoring the small voice in her head that was telling her to stop. That she’d set up their rules for a reason, to keep it only physical, and these lingering touches and kisses were not and should not be allowed.

“I wanted you so much after that day. I ached to have you,” he whispered raggedly against her lips. He didn’t need to tell her which day. The day she’d kneed him in the balls if only to emerge victorious from a situation where she wasn’t wholly sure who had won and who had lost by the end of it. The day she’d almost kissed him and would have gladly let him take her to bed, had reason and shock not been at the forefront of her mind.

“I did too,” she admitted quietly, before tangling her hands into his hair again, driving her tongue around his in a wicked, sensual dance.

“Did you think of me?,” he asked, grinding his hips into hers again, his hand coming to rest at her hip in a light grip. “Did you slip those lovely fingers in between your legs and fuck yourself with them, thinking about me? Did I make you wet Nesta?”

She moaned at the richness of his voice, at all the terrible, delicious things it was saying to her. All the things he was asking and being utterly right about. Her hand hadn’t been enough to forget him and his muscled body, that voice or those eyes, but she’d curved her fingers into herself each night afterwards hoping it would.

“That’s not an answer,” he reminded her, nipping at the tip of her pointed ears in punishment.

“Yes,” she murmured finally. “I was soaked every night thinking about you. And it didn’t matter how much I touched myself, it was never enough.”

There should have been shame, or at least some embarrassment at admitting something so personal. But Nesta could not find it in herself to summon any of it, and the opportunity left as soon as Cassian whispered that he too, just couldn’t be sated by his hand when he thought of her.

“We’re a sad pair aren’t we?,” Cassian finally said after they’d stared at each other for a few moments.

For so many reasons, yes, we are.

Cassian cleared his throat, realizing what he’d just said out loud. “I mean, I wanted you and you wanted me, and we never acted on it. Think of all the great sex we could have been having.”

A poor attempt at a cover up if she’d ever seen one, but she laughed anyways because he was right about that too. Things certainly would have been very different if she’d pursued anything at all with him as a human. Maybe the transition to becoming Fae would have been more palatable, more bearable.

“You’re disgusting, but you’re right. It would have been great. Such a shame really,” she teased laughingly.

“I think we make up for it rather well though, don’t you?” There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, and the could have sworn she saw stars dance in them. He palmed her ass for good measure, as if to prove his point further.

There was no need. Nesta was already two steps ahead of him as she lightly pushed him to lay down, locking her legs tighter around his hips.

Cassian’s hands skimmed over her waist, drawing a rattled breath from her before they rested calmly at the curves of her hips. Nesta reached for his cock, eager and demanding behind her, and lifted herself up with Cassian’s help before impaling herself down on it.

A high-pitched gasp escaped her lips before she could gather her thoughts, check herself and her pounding heart to calm down. She’d done this so many times before, and yet, somehow it felt different. Freer. Perhaps it was where they were and the fact that they’d shared so much in the past couple hours than Nesta had ever shared with anyone in her entire life.

Cassian seemed to be struggling to keep calm in a similar predicament underneath her. His hands kept their grip loose around her hips, but his eyes were wild with desire. But that gentleness would not do for her. She laid her own hand atop his fingers, and pressed them in hard.

“Bruises,” she reminded him lightly. This time though, he didn’t stop himself from digging painfully into her waist, and she thanked him secretly for giving into her convoluted desires.

Nesta laid her palms over his chest, a dark thrill racing along her spine as Cassian looked up at her in wonder. Wonder and something more that she didn’t want to linger too long on.

“Nesta,” he rasped. “Nesta.”

“I know,” she whispered back, rising up slightly and taking him deeper.

Nesta moved on Cassian slowly, slower than she’d ever bothered to do before, luxuriating in the slide of his thick cock stretching her with every flex of her hips.

Deeper.

She took him in all the way to the hilt, until she could feel him hit that elusive spot in her most innermost walls. Nesta hissed as the head of him brushed it, and sharp, shocking pleasure rippled through her core and her stomach. Cassian seemed to have caught onto what she’d felt, and she felt him adjust his legs and then begin ramming up into her as she came crashing down.

“Oh, Gods right there,” she gasped.

Surely Nesta was leaving claw marks down his chest, the tang of his blood filling the small space of air between their slick bodies. But Nesta was too far gone to stop, grinding down on him harder as he bucked up into her, sharp snarls and breathy gasps punctuating the air in a seductive call and answer. For everything she threw at him, he gave her all of it back just as well. Better even. Harder. Rougher.

It was exactly what she needed. He had known. She hadn’t, but he had. Which was why he had let her take the reigns, literally, for this settling of her soul as she let out every tangled emotion from the week’s events. As she rode him harder, faster, the only sounds between them were his occasional grunt and her own pants, marked with every obscene sound of the slide of his cock in her wet heat.

And Nesta knew, as she crested into another glorious climax, her world would never again be the same. Never again would another male be a good substitute in her bed for this male underneath her. Never again would her body crave and lust for anyone other than the warrior whose mouth tasted like heaven and body burned like hell. Not as she came with a cry of his name, back arched and nails gouging into his skin, as if his very lifeblood was the only thing left as further proof of how deeply enmeshed they had become.

Cassian’s eyes were shut long after they’d come down from their high, his chest moving with his deep breaths against her. She would have thought him sleeping if his hand hadn’t been caressing her thigh in soft, deliberate circles. Nesta couldn’t find it in herself to say anything either though, so she didn’t do anything more than climb off of him and curl into his side.

For the heat. That was what she told herself. And when Cassian looped an arm under her waist and pulled her back to his chest, she said it to herself again.

Just body heat.

She didn’t know how long she stayed awake, pressed up against him, simply enjoying how right it felt. How many hours had passed, Nesta had no idea. She also didn’t know what they would become the moment they returned to Velaris. Perhaps it would be Nesta who would start the first argument in her goal to push him away. Maybe Cassian. But probably Nesta. If only to keep her pride intact and act as if he hadn’t fought closer into her heart this week. With how he’d stayed and listened through it all, and then held her so gently she thought she too may break in the way he seemed to fear she would.

Here though, was not Velaris. Here was peace, of a different sort. She did not bother to think of tomorrow in this place. Right now she just wanted to stay with Cassian in every way she’d denied herself back in the House of Wind. Let him wrap her up in-

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he spoke in a hushed tone into her shoulder. And then he dropped a quick kiss there too, for good measure, as if his words weren’t enough to garner her attention, so he’d switched to the physical touch they always seemed to work best with.

“I’m just thinking,” she admitted.

All the things I shouldn’t be thinking about.

“Such as?,” he asked playfully, knocking his head against the crevice of her neck.

You. Always you.

“Nothing. Go to sleep.”

Cassian slid the hand curved under her to trace the underside of her breast with careful control. “I don’t want to sleep,” he told her in a low, deep voice that was enough to make her skin tighten. Her breasts ache. Her core pound with need, all over again.

She huffed a laugh. “Of course. What do you want then?”

Cassian didn’t answer, showing her instead. He unfurled the wing draped over her body and rose to loom over her. His wings, usually tucked in tight when she was with him, were flared out on both sides as he lifted himself over her body. Black as night, black as death itself maybe, they were beautiful. She’d been captivated by his wings from the moment they’d met, so powerful and yet delicate, they contradicted everything just by being. She met his hazel eyes, glowing like honeyed faelights, and did not balk from the stare that likely sent others scattering. The silky strand of hair falling over the scar on his eyebrow did little to lessen the command and raw sensuality of his gaze.

A conquering lord of war. Her very own. Maybe not forever, maybe not even once the week was out. But for now...yes.

Hers.

Cassian’s kiss was rough and demanding and the compulsion to join so soon again beat between them like their pounding hearts. His hands trailed up the sides of her body, caressing her skin with callouses that soothed just as much as they incited desire. Those hands made their way to her hair, tangling gently as he continued kissing her.

Nesta’s own hands couldn’t help but itch forward and clasp firmly behind his neck. Holding him to her as he was doing with her face as well, pulling lightly at the hair, just enough to make him growl against her lips.

But she swallowed his half snarl with a moan of her own as he ground his hips into her core. Slow, calculated, taunting undulations of his hips that he knew were the root of all the unfettered noises escaping from her mouth. He was making her wild, ravenous with a hunger she’d never known she could live without before him.

Cassian broke their kiss first, but his forehead was touched to her own in an almost bow. “I love those little sounds you make when I touch you,” he murmured over her jaw, dragging a hand down her neck and then lower to cup her breast. “So responsive.”

“Only to you,” she admitted. Recklessly admitted, because he hadn’t known that she was quiet with her previous bedmates save for a few cries here and there if they knew what they were doing. But Cassian was not a casual bedmate. Not a quick fuck. He was... a lover she supposed. She’d never had one before, never really contemplated if it was something she even wanted, but that was what they were, she realized.

Lovers.

Cassian drew back to take her in, take in the small confession, and something melted in his characteristically open expression. It paved the way for something even more tender, a look he rarely gave anyone, regardless of how affectionate he could be. And she just knew, it was only one she’d seen on him directed towards her. Something akin to a warm glow grew in her chest at the revelation.

And it was bliss.

Sheer, unadulterated, bliss when they joined again. Cassian had pulled her up, grasping her legs and placing them over his own with her back to his chest. She’d never ridden him this way, but from the first thrust up into her, Cassian’s hand banding across her stomach to keep her upright, she knew she may always take him like this from then on. It was a different sort of angle, a different sort of pleasure as he kept his thrusts shallow and drawn out. They moved as one, writhing along each other, Nesta’s hands tangling behind her head into his own locks.

If she pulled too hard for comfort, Cassian made no comments about it. In fact, they didn’t talk at all as Cassian’s lips were firmly attached to her neck, kissing, suckling, and leaving small bites and bruises just like she’d asked for. As he drove his hips up into hers again, dragging along a particular spot that she’d never paid attention to before, Nesta felt something tighten and burn inside of her. That pressure, unrelenting and intoxicating began to build, until it was almost unbearable for Nesta to do anything more than let Cassian buck up into her, her body almost limp with the pleasure that had built to a dizzying degree.

“Let go,” he whispered, dragging his hands down to rove over her legs, grasping the thighs that overlaid his own gently. “Let go Nesta.”

Nesta whimpered, as he did that thing again. Surging his cock upward against her walls, towards her front in a way he’d never tried before. “It’s too much,” she panted. “I can’t...I can’t.”

She could feel his smirk along her cheek, and Gods damn it all, but the arrogance alone made her grow even more wet. Cassian tilted her chin back and kissed her softly, the rhythm of his hips never faltering once. But that tenderness soon left them as the heat returned. As the passion erupted from her lips and into his, tongues clashing, and swallowed gasps in between.

He caught on quickly to what she wanted, this endless pursuit of pleasure, high as it made her feel, had grown too much and she needed an end. She needed release from the precipice she’d been kept on by Cassian’s wicked intent. He’d drawn out her pleasure to such a degree that she’d come to nearly sobbing when he finally gave into her whims.

The sinews on his arms tightened as he draped his arm across her waist, firmly grasping her hip, while his other hand palmed her breast roughly. Nesta could only hold on tighter, clasping her hands behind his neck as he began to fuck her with abandon.

She broke their kiss, unable to think as he thrust faster, more and more of that fiery ecstasy flooding her veins, until all that was, all that could ever be, was her and him till the very end. The sounds coming from her had edged into something more carnal than she’d ever allowed herself to utter. Cassian too was a male undone, almost frantic as he fucked her harder, his own groans having dissolved into pleasure of a different sort, an animalistic sort.

“Oh god,” she choked out, “Cassian..."

Cassian chuckled, his brutal pace unwavering as he flicked out his tongue to the tipped shell of her ear. “God or Gods, Nesta?,” he crooned, “Seems you’re not in control of your words.”

Nesta could not answer, could not explain the slip of her tongue had been from how horribly wrecked she felt. How horribly wrecked he was making her feel.

Cassian laughed again. A dark, sinful rasp of a laugh that heated her blood and traveled down to her core. “Am I your God Nesta?”

Nesta would blame it on being on the brink of climax if he ever asked her about her answer again. She’d regret it and curse herself for humiliating herself in such a way later. Right now though...

“Yes,” she keened. “You are.”

Cassian husked low into her ear, “Shall you be my goddess queen then, Nesta?”

“Yes,” she breathed. She could be his goddess. And he her warrior god of bloodshed. “Yes, Cassian.”

“Then come for me, my queen.”

His words threw her violently into climax, and she clenched around his pulsing member, fluid releasing from her as she screamed his name over and over. It lasted longer than ever before as Cassian kept driving up into her, his own release spurting out and mingling with hers, making her rise higher and higher as it became a never-ending torrent unleashing from her.

She did not know anything then save for a small vestige of self and sanity. The rest of her was too consumed by this male against her, ripping her soul from her body and infusing only his name as replacement. All she knew was Cassian, all she felt was Cassian, and all she held close to her heart was Cassian.

Nesta laid her head against Cassian’s shoulder as she caught her breath, his own breathing shuttered against her back. Eventually heat began to creep into her cheeks as she realized how wet everything was around them. She peeked down and beheld the liquid between her legs, smeared with his own seed and running all over his thighs as well.

“I’ve made a mess of you,” she remarked softly, remembering his own words to her once, now finally understanding what he’d meant.

Cassian stiffened, remembering too, but then he kissed her cheek lightly. “I like it,” he told her with a short laugh.

“We can’t sleep here tonight. It’s all...”

Wet, but she couldn’t say it. The sleeping bundle was utterly drenched in their release from this time, and scenting of their previous coupling as well. A beautiful, chaotic mess that they’d made which, as much as she enjoyed seeing, would not allow her to sleep soundly in.

Cassian groaned, lifting her off of him and softly placing her to his side. “There’s another one in the pack. Come on,” he said to her, getting up to his feet and reaching a hand down to haul her up.

They washed in the lake a second time that night, Cassian keeping his hands to himself and Nesta just barely restraining herself from tugging him close and kissing his lips. It wasn’t sex that she wanted again. No, she was perfectly sated now, and if the small tremors in her thigh were any indication, her body wouldn’t last another round anyways. She distracted her hands by washing their clothes in the lake, Cassian chuckling as he beheld her in only his spare shirt kneeling over the water and trying to get the dirt out.

His words wouldn’t stop replaying over and over in her head. Not when they crawled into the new sleeping bundle. Not when he kept as much distance in between their bodies as possible. Not when she gave into her weakness and pushed backwards into his side and not when he pulled her close, curling his body and wing over her.

He had said it like a prayer, like a hymn to only be uttered in a temple or perhaps a dais for a long forgotten deity. Yes, it had been when they were almost delirious on pleasure, and yes he hadn’t said it again.

But Nesta could not and would not forget the words he’d uttered to her, so gently his command had been as he’d ordered her to let herself fall into release for him. With him.

The words blazed fiercely in her heart long after she’d fallen asleep against him. Long after the next two days as they trained and coupled, sometimes in a frenzy, sometimes languid and slow. They burned and flourished, day into night, and night back into day, even when they left the mountain and returned to Velaris.

My queen, he had called her.

He made her believe it too all those months later on Solstice Night. And when she was sure he’d fallen asleep, those golden threads still shimmering between them, gilded with love and understanding, Nesta whispered her promise back against his heart.

“Your queen.”

~***~

Tagging: @bookstantrash @my-mad-fan-diary, @onceupona-chaos, @loosingdreams @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @queenestarcheron @queenofbloodshed @cassianscool @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @vasudharaghavan @sayosdreams @moe8 @arielle-reads @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @nahthanks @oversizedbats @swankii-art-teacher @inardour @rowaelinismyotp @starryblueskies7 @nestaarcher0n @vidalinav @nessiantrashh

347 notes • Posted 2021-03-06 19:49:38 GMT

I don’t see it as a romance, but I think Eris would be very protective of Elain. Like how Cassian and Azriel are for Feyre, I think Eris would be the brooding older brother for Elain that would always scare people away from her, especially if she visits the Autumn Court because people are mean there and he loves how sweet Elain is, like his mom, and he can’t stand anyone treating her poorly. And after everything with Jessminda, he vows to keep this woman safe for Lucien’s sake, in a way to make up for how he failed him the first time.

Damn I do be simping for Eris now too.

351 notes • Posted 2021-03-01 15:25:14 GMT

Suits

Notes: I can't believe I actually did this. It started as a harmless post by @nessiansimp and here we are. I did not edit this much. I just wrote it non-stop for 3 hours because I couldn't not. Also, I know the title is basic. I don't care. I'm obsessed with Suits right now so that's what you're getting. Also, I know nothing about law school except for Legally Blonde, Suits, and Google searches. So I apologize in advance for all the stuff I portray incorrectly.

Summary: Nesta is stressed the day before her first day of classes in Law School. She calls up a familiar face to set herself at ease, not realizing just what trouble she's about to get into. A student/teacher fic. Everyone is an adult!

Warnings: NSFW, swearing

~*~

Nesta turned her phone on and off again, for the sixth time in a row. She needed to get her head straight.

She'd be starting school again tomorrow. Her first day of law school. Her first day of law school.

Fuck, she needed a drink. Or dick. Preferably both.

But there was no way he was awake at...she glanced at the clock. Way past midnight. No way in hell.

It won't hurt to try.

No it definitely wouldn't. The worst that could happen was he didn't pick up, and Nesta went to bed like she should have done 3 hours ago. But the nerves...

The nerves were going to end her if she didn't let herself loose a little.

Picking up her phone one more time, dialing the number from memory, she lifted it to her ear, listening to the ring and wondering if she'd hear something different.

"Yeah?"

The voice was deep and masculine and utterly perfect. At least, she'd found it to be, from the second she'd heard it.

"Can you come over?" Nesta didn't bother with trivial cover-ups. She needed to sleep and she had no plans of using alcohol to get it done. Not the day before classes started. Mindblowing sex would just have to do for the night.

Nesta couldn't see his face, but she knew the grin that'd be playing on his face at her request. He'd say yes. He always did. And within fifteen minutes, she heard the knock on her apartment door, telling her that she had been right to call him.

He hadn't let her down yet.

Cassian looked just as good at two in the morning as he did at any normal hour of the day. Shirt clinging to his muscled torso, a peek of black ink at his collar that she knew crept all over his chest, back and arms. And the telltale leather jacket that had made her want him in the first place. It was either that or the hair. Or the hazel eyes. Maybe it was just all of him. He was too beautiful for words on most days, and in her current sleep-deprived state, Cassian looked like a god.

A smirk played on his lips as he asked her, "Are you going to stare all day or can I at least come in first before you jump me?"

Nesta rolled her eyes but moved away from the doorway to let him in. He snuck in a quick glance at her own attire and she inwardly cringed at the fact that she was wearing only an oversized T-shirt and no pants. Not that it really mattered considering what they were about to go on to do. But, that stupid smirk on his face, the knowing look in his eyes, had her irritated.

Insufferable ass. That was why she'd kept it so casual with him. Gods knew they'd tear each other to pieces if it ever became more than just physical between them.

Cassian didn't go to her bedroom, instead stopping in her small kitchenette, drinking from her bottle in the fridge. It was almost domestic to see it happen, and Nesta almost laughed at it. Almost even smiled at him and the sight of him like this.

Almost.

"Let's go, I have an early morning tomorrow," she called from the hallway, knowing he'd follow. He knew the layout of her small but functional apartment. She knew all about his too considering she preferred to go over to his place rather than he come to her.

She didn't like to show the cheap secondhand furniture she'd purchased with Emerie and Gwyn's help from a thrift store. Or the fraying carpet and cramped hallways. It was home for her. At least for now. But that didn't mean she didn't feel slightly embarrassed by it each time Cassian visited.

She likely never would have felt so strongly about it, had she not gone home with him one night instead of the other way around.

Condo didn't seem like a good enough word. Cassian was rich. In all the ways that Nesta's family had been a long time ago. Maybe he was richer. She really didn't know nor was she going to ask. All she knew was that his bedsheets felt like heaven and everything in that damned apartment was a guilty pleasure. From the type of coffee he had to the stupid multiple settings in his showerhead.

Cassian entering the room behind her dragged her away from her thoughts on who had more money and better showerheads.

He'd taken off the leather jacket somewhere and Nesta took in the plain black button up that outlined the cord of muscles all over him. She wanted to tear it off of him.

Cassian began unbuttoning his shirt walking towards her. Nesta backed up, caught in his thrall, in the snare of his glinting eyes. When he reached her, the back of her legs had already hit the mattress of her bed. His shirt had already been discarded. Nesta raised a hand to his chest, to trace the tattoos, to maybe follow the outline with her tongue afterwards.

But Cassian caught her by the wrist, stopping her advances. He went for her shirt instead. Pulling it up above her waist and then her head as she lifted her arms to help him.

He growled as he took her in then. She hadn't bothered with a bra. Just a lacy black underwear she'd forgotten she owned until after Cassian had told her he was coming.

"That's a nice surprise," he muttered, ducking his head down towards her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, expecting a kiss.

Instead Cassian bypassed her lips, going straight for her peaked nipples.

The first flick of his tongue had her reeling. The hot and wet sensation had her keening into him for more. Looping her fingers into his belt and pulling his closer as he kissed a path up her chest and nuzzled her neck. Pressed a kiss to a spot under her ear that made her whimper and wetness to pool between her legs.

Then she got a hold of herself.

"Get on with it," she warned, breathless and not quite in any shape to be making demands. Cassian seemed to think the same thing because when he kissed her, he nipped just a touch harder than usual on her bottom lip. Just this side of pain and pleasure and enough to cause Nesta to moan into his mouth. He swallowed that moan up with a long, languorous drag of his tongue against hers.

Quicker than she'd expected, Cassian had wrapped a hand across her waist and she'd locked her legs behind his back as he put them both down on her bed.

Gasping for air, she broke their kiss and Cassian used it to drag his mouth lower. Lower. Lower...

"Yes," she hissed, as Cassian pushed the lace fabric to the side and dragged his tongue down her sex. She could feel how wet she already was, how wet he was making her with his tongue. With how good he was tasting her.

Cassian broke away from her skin, lips glistening as he smiled at her, and with her head still fogged up from a near orgasm, Nesta returned it. Never mind that she didn't like to show any softness like that to anyone to, especially not in these moments. But he'd broken down her defenses with that infuriatingly talented mouth of his. Had almost brought her to lay herself bare to him in ways that sex never had before.

Cassian hooked his fingers into the sides of her underwear and made to pull down.

"Lift up for me baby."

She did and the cool air hit her already warmed and wet skin, making the sensation all the more delicious when he fastened his mouth back onto her clit, and began all over again.

Cassian didn't take off his pants even when she'd asked him to. He'd made her come once with his mouth. She'd stayed there on bed, catching her breath for just a minute before reaching for his belt.

Cassian had denied her, catching her by the ankle and pressing a soft kiss to the skin there before working his way back up. Running his lips over her calves, her knees, the insides of her thighs. And then he'd eaten her out again, much to her protest in the beginning. But she'd quickly forgotten that she'd asked him here to fuck her when he dipped his tongue inside of her, curling upwards while she cried out his name over and over. Until her climax had been wrung out of her in an almost dizzying finale.

Then and only then had he let her undo the buckle at his hips, a cool, wicked smile dancing on his face at her eagerness. She'd opened the zip and almost slipped her hand in to palm him right then and there, but Cassian had laughed at that and pulled away. Moving off the bed to discard his pants himself before joining her again.

Nesta's mouth had dried as she'd taken him in. Naked. Hard. His cock already dripping with moisture at the tip. She wanted him in her mouth. Wanted to taste him. Feel him along her tongue, along her lips until she could take him deep in her throat.

"What are you doing?," Cassian asked with a laugh, grabbing her wrists again and hauling her under him.

Nesta huffed. "What did it look like I was doing? I was going to suck your-"

Cassian silenced her with a kiss.

"That mouth will be the death of me," he muttered, kissing her again and she couldnt help but twine her fingers into his hair. And pull slightly.

"Maybe you should fuck it and make it better," she whispered, dragging her tongue along his jaw and down his neck. Biting at the delicate skin there. Cassian didn't even flinch at the teeth marks she'd left behind beside the tattoo along the column of his throat.

Cassian chuckled darkly at her antics. "Maybe I'll just fuck you instead."

"It would be about time," she shot back, not at all caring how he'd take it. How he'd make her beg for being so mouthy.

Cassian seemed to even consider it. She could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But in the end, Cassian instead settled on leaning back until he rested on his knees before her. Kneeling he grabbed her legs, hauling her closer as he pulled them up until their undersides rested on his chest. Her feet hooked over his shoulders as her hips became flush with his own. With the hard demanding press of his cock against her sex, Nesta couldn't help but writhe desperately, craving any friction she could get.

Cassian didn't enter her right away, choosing instead to take his two fingers and place them at her mouth. Nesta took them in, swirled her tongue over them as she bobbed her head like she was sucking him off instead.

"You look perfect like that," he breathed, when she let his fingers go with a pop. Nesta didn't respond to the compliment. Not when he dragged those fingers through her folds, smearing her wetness around her clit until a soft, glowing pleasure began to build.

He entered her slowly. Much too slowly for her to take it well. Stretching and filling, in and in and in he sank. Deeper in until there was no more room for him to go. It was always too much for her. In those initial moments that he entered her. Nesta swore she stopped breathing every time he filled her up. Swore he'd filled her to a breaking point, no matter how burning and good it felt. But he'd always done it so fast, the moment of breathlessness was there and gone. A moment barely captured in the sharp intake of air she took.

But today, he'd gone slow. Had given her time to adjust although, with his size, it didn't really matter how fast or slow he went. He'd always be a touch too large for her. Just this side of stretching pain, which she loved even if she never admitted it to him.

And when he fucked her, it wasn't their characteristic way of doing so. There was no savage pounding of him into her, so hard and rough she could only scream most of the time. There was no dragging of nails across skin that sometimes drew blood. Nor any bites or bruises that she often loved to look over when he was long gone.

She couldn't lie and say this slower, almost romantic way of fucking didn't have her heart pounding for a different reason.

Because it did.

Almost as if he were making love to her. Something they'd never bothered with before. She supposed something in her had told him she was upset. That she'd needed the reassurance of his body in more than just their casual fucking ways.

As he drove his hips upward into her over and over, rocking on his knees as he held her legs tight against him, Nesta couldn't help but let the tumble of cries and moans fall out of her mouth. Not when he went faster, hit that spot deep inside her that had her on the verge of screaming her throat raw. Not when she came in a glorious crest that made everything bad go away from her mind. In that stilted moment stuck between reality and forever, Nesta had felt peace. Had forgotten her worries and troubles and the whole reason behind why she'd called Cassian over in the first place. Instead, she let it go through her until she was boneless and spent, Cassian now no longer thrusting into her, but his hard cock still inside.

He'd made her come first. Had made sure she'd come at least three times tonight with not one care at all for himself. It shouldn't have bothered her so much. After all, they just fucked. It wasn't a serious relationship. Yet it bothered her enough that when she caught her breath, Nesta unhooked her legs from his shoulders and pushed him down to where she'd been.

Climbed over him and sank down without a moment's hesitation, causing Cassian to groan aloud at the sheer ecstasy she too was witnessing.

That second time, she made sure he became unchecked and wild. No matter that she rode him. Nesta had circled his wrists and placed his powerful hands at her hips.

"Fuck me as hard as you want," she told him, leaving his hands tightening at her hips. "I want to feel it when I move tomorrow," she added salaciously.

Cassian seemed to appreciate that. When he thrust up into her those final times, Nesta swore she saw stars dance across her vision with her head thrown back. When she came to, pleasure slowly leaving her body, Cassian was panting just as hard underneath her, softening inside her and leaking out.

It had been his climax, the moan he'd let out as he'd reached that precarious precipice, so close to falling off, that had made Nesta come. She'd known how close he was, and so she'd flexed her inner muscles once, twice, and the sound of his moaning her name had had her tightening involuntarily as her orgasm crashed through her. He'd followed not long after and she'd cried out his name along with an incoherent mess of sounds she'd deny he'd ever gotten out of her.

Cassian had let himself take a minute to recover, and then he was pulling her off of him, walking over to the bathroom joined to her room. She'd heard the run of water and soon he returned with a warm, wet washcloth to clean between her thighs. It was moments like this where she was glad of being with Cassian, even if it was just for sex. Her past whatever they should be called weren't very good in bed. And they weren't very good out of it either. Nesta had opted for condoms then, when she'd hated having to waddle over to the bathroom, some stranger man's release dripping out of her.

It wasn't until after she'd fully caught her breath, gotten up to pee because she'd be damned if she got a UTI tonight, and taken a long swig of her water bottle that Cassian had brought over, that Nesta settled down. Pulled the covers up to her breasts, not bothering to get dressed, and just breathed.

Cassian had pulled his boxer briefs back on, but that was all. His clothes still lay discarded haphazardly around her room, although that was the deal for most things in her room anyways, so she shouldn't be surprised. Cassian seemed to think the same thing as he looked up from typing something on his phone, surveying the room around him with a hint of distaste on his face.

Her hackles began rising. No she didn't like her place that much either when remembering the type of place Cassian lived in. But that didn't mean she'd take shit from him about it.

Before she could say anything though, Cassian turned his attention to her, "Who lives like this?"

"I beg your pardon," she spluttered, not expecting that as his first comment on the state of her home.

"I mean," he gestured around them, "why is it so messy? Have you never cleaned up your room?"

Nesta snorted. "What am I a child and you my mom? It's my place. I'll keep my room as tidy or not as I like."

Gods knew she'd earned it after the way she'd been living before.

"Very mature," Cassian remarked, shaking his head in disbelief as he went back to whatever was going on in his phone.

"I think so," she added, rather coldly if were being honest with herself.

Cassian was older than her. Not old enough for it to be creepy or gross, but old enough for Nesta to know he no longer ate ramen for dinner because he was behind on student loans. Old enough to keep things like bourbon and whiskey and other really old bottles of liquor he often poured for her when she went over. It was a stark contrast to the refreshments she could offer. Hard lemonade or coke was about it in terms of choices.

Cassian had flicked his eyes up at her from her sudden change in tone but had decided not to comment, going back to whatever business he was attending to. Or texting to, whichever it was.

She had no idea what he did. Just that he was rich, gorgeous, drove a really fast, really expensive car, and that he could fuck her silly.

She'd seen the college diploma in a wall in his living room in passing. A few family photos with two other men that looked like him in the way people from the same country often did. He'd mentioned his foster brothers to her a few times. Nothing about foster care itself, and she hadn't felt it right to pry. Not when she wasn't sure what exactly they were.

They weren't supposed to be anything anyways if she really thought about it. She'd run into him in a club of all places. He'd been with his brothers- she'd found out months later- and hadn't wanted to be there. She'd been dragged along by Emerie and Gwyn for Gwyn's 21st birthday celebration. Nesta who was already 22, hadn't been as excited to go to a club when she'd been sneaking into them since she was 16. But Gwyn was her best friend so she had relented. Once Gwyn had come across some handsome tall stranger on the dance floor, Nesta had been left behind. Emerie finding her own dance partner in the form of a petite, curly haired woman named Maria hadn't helped Nesta's situation.

In her haste to go home, or at least take a breather from the stuffy nightclub, Nesta had run into a very large, very solid mass of some sort.

It had been Cassian. With his infuriating smile, disarming charm, that leather jacket and those fucking tattoos. She'd chewed him out for not watching where he was going.

Then she'd let him fuck her in front seat of his car. Or, she'd fucked him. It didn't really matter to her anymore. It had been the best sex of her life and when he called her up a few days later, Nesta hadn't hesitated to let him come over to her apartment.

Gwyn had been horrified when she'd found out. Emerie had warned her about bringing home a serial killer. But it had already been done and Nesta had known deep down, she'd never be the same again. Her friends didn't really get it. Their entire situation, but Nesta didn't really care about that either.

Cassian was easy. Easy to he around. Easy to talk to. There were no expectations. No rules and no limitations either. He just...was.

And he let Nesta breathe in a way she hadn't thought she would in a long time.

So what if she didn't tell him that she'd gotten into law school after working her ass off in her last year of undergrad? After the hell her junior year had been for her, he was lucky she told him where she had even gone to college. After graduating, Nesta also hadn't told him where she worked. Nothing about the paralegal job, the name of the firm, or the application she'd put into law schools.

She couldn't risk whatever tenuous normalcy she'd finally reached if Cassian did indeed end up becoming a problem for her as Gwyn and Emerie were worried about. Definitely not after she'd worked so hard to get where she was.

In that spirit, Nesta didn't ask about his own life either. Not outside of anything he offered her, which also wasn't much.

She liked that too. No expectations. For all he knew, she was a part-time hooker. But he never asked.

Eventually, Nesta had ended up crawling over to where Cassian had sprawled out on her bed, and tucked herself against his chest as he'd continued typing away. No matter that the blanket had become a bunched mess underneath her or that they never did this. He'd stayed longer than he ever had before and Nesta didn't care if she admitted to herself that she hadn't cuddled with anyone in a long time. Certainly not with anyone worth the effort.

Cassian hadn't seemed miffed at all. Running a hand down her hair as she'd tucked closer, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. Nesta had soon fallen asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

When she came to, Nesta awoke alone. It wasn't the first time. In fact, she'd never not woken up alone after Cassian visited. And yet, after last night, she'd felt some sort of change between them. Had sworn Cassian could too. Which was why his disappearance seemed to harp on her so strongly. Why his text that he'd talk to her later but that he'd had to run to work had left her feeling empty. And when she entered her first class of the day, after barely finding it, and only being on time because she'd come earlier, thoughts of Cassian still swirled around in her mind. More than she ever should have allowed herself to.

Nesta turned on her laptop, taking in the students filing in around her. It was a full class. She'd taken the class on a whim, seeing that it was a seminar that discussed criminal cases, taught by a professor Emerie had said was an easy A if you showed up and talked a few times. Easy enough. Nesta had no plans of messing up her first class of her first day in her first step towards a better life and better future. She'd do the best. Be the best. It was what she'd lived on for most of her life anyways.

As more students filed in, Nesta wondered where the professor was. Emerie had mentioned he was old, sort of deaf, but a softie if you talked to him enough. Yet, everyone looked to be around the same age in the room. No sign of a professor anywhere.

The clock struck 8:00 AM, and as she typed in her password, she saw a figure get up from the front row and make their way to the board.

What idiot was already playing pranks on the still absent professor, on a first day no less, Nesta had no idea. She wanted no part in it though, she knew that much.

"Alright everyone, good morning. I'm sure some of you are wondering where Professor Jackson is. He's unfortunately going through some medical problems and I was asked to step in for him. Now, Professor Jackson taught me, in this very same classroom, in the very same way that he planned to teach all of you. And I'm going to, hopefully, be just as great and inspiring as he was." The man laughed and added, "Hopefully," earning him a round of chuckles scattered across the room.

But Nesta had frozen. Hadn't moved from the moment she'd heard his voice. Because she knew that voice, could pick it out from anywhere. It had been a voice that greeted her with teasing jests every time she glowered at him and his antics. A voice that whispered sweet nothings and the most filthy delicious promises to her when his body pressed her deep into the mattress.

As she stared transfixed in horror towards the front of the room, Cassian smiled brightly towards the class, scanning the room as he opened his mouth.

"My name is Cassian Virin and you can call me either Professor or just Cassian. Either is fine. I'm a practicing attorney at Solis and Vanserra. It's a firm in this city that I'm sure many of you have heard of." More chuckles arose because who the hell hadn't heard of Solis and Vanserra.

"I'm going to be here just for this semester while I also work on some pro bono cases at my firm, and-"

Cassian stopped talking as he finally saw her. She was sure the same panic was evident on her own face that she mirrored in his own. Except Cassian mastered himself faster than she ever could in such a fucked up situation.

Not breaking eye contact with her, Cassian finished his sentence. "And I'll be your teacher this semester for this class. Welcome to Criminal Law.

Taglist:

@bookstantrash @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @queenestarcheron @nessiansimp @cassianscool @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @courtofjurdan @vasudharaghavan @sayosdreams @moe8 @arielle-reads @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @nahthanks @oversizedbats @swankii-art-teacher @inardour @rowaelinismyotp @starryblueskies7 @nestaarcher0n @vidalinav @nessiantrashh @lanyjoy-13 @iwastoowildinthe70s @nessianlordandladyofillyria @ladygabrielli1997 @moonlitchandeliers

399 notes • Posted 2021-06-25 07:51:51 GMT

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: exactly 7777 words how sexy is that || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, filmed sex, public sex/outdoor sex, oral (f receiving), jin being a little shit just because he can, vmin mxm scene, bath sex, unprotected sex, fingering/anal play, anal sex, creampie, the most tender smut scene in this whole fic goes to these fucking boys

ᴀ/ɴ: banner designed by @jamaisjoons, thank you to my sfhs girls who help with brainstorming every week xx, i’m so sorry if this feels rushed or too short, i didn’t want to leave you hanging for three weeks : (

DAY NINE

One thing you learn the morning after, is that Hoseok is a deceptively bad cook.

Of course you’re grateful for the breakfast in bed he kindly prepared you and Jungkook - the latter still half-asleep and unable to go more than five seconds without yawning - but it’s hard to comprehend that the man in front of you now, eating cereal with a fork, is the same one that wrecked you so elegantly last night.

“Why is the toast chewy? Are we still being punished?” Jungkook moans sombrely around a mouthful, eyes dazed.

Hoseok sets his fork back in the bowl with a clatter, reaching out to poke Jungkook with a foot. “Be grateful, brat. I made that out of love.”

The younger man stares bleakly down at his plate. “I’d love to have a pancake right now instead.”

You wince at Hoseok’s disappointed expression, taking a mouthful of the strangely floppy toast. “It’s… nice and warm,” you offer up, failing to find anything else to compliment.

Hoseok beams. “Thank you. While I was doing my cereal, it got a bit cold, so I heated it up in the microwave.”

Your heart sinks despairingly into your stomach, which roils at the prospect. “Ah,” you muse hollowly.

“Eat up!” the dom cheers. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Still smiling proudly, he digs his fork into the almost full bowl of cereal and begins chowing down.

Jungkook shares a silent stare with you, and you turn back to your plate. “Thanks for breakfast, Hoseok,” you sigh, and brace yourself for the meal ahead.

After breakfast, you get dressed in a pair of shorts and a comfy shirt, planning on spending the day inside relaxing. But the moment you see Jin and Taehyung running around on the gravel outside, a small darting form evading their flailing arms, you realise how foolish you were to expect that a day in the villa could be anything remote to uneventful.

Rushing out the front door still in your socks, you step down to the base of the concrete entryway, staring in shock at the two men.

Taehyung’s face is bright with a boxy grin, laughing maniacally as he rushes to and fro, still in his version of pyjamas - loose boxer shorts and a Celine Dion t-shirt. “Hyung, that way!” he hoots cheerily to Jin, feet crunching noisily on the gravel.

The other man, considerably less happy (or perhaps the frown was one of absolute concentration), huffs at the command. “It’s your fuckin’ dog, Tae, why isn’t it going to you?”

Between them, panting and grinning, is a small dog with short fur, nails clicking on the gravel. It can’t be taller than knee-height, with wide eyes and a small black nose. It probably is white or cream coloured, but the thick crusting of dirt all over makes it hard to tell.

“It’s not my dog, I just found him!” Taehyung insists, before crouching down, clicking his tongue. “Mango, c’mere boy! Come to daddy.”

Jin comes to a stop with a groan, chest heaving. “Well, now you’re just going to scar the poor thing.”

Taehyung glares, but doesn’t stop cooing at the dog, who’s now eying him up suspiciously. “Come on, boy, daddy just wants to help, he’ll give you a nice, warm bath and some treats. Sound nice, Mango? C’mere!”

With the cool disdain that you’ve never seen in a dog before, Mango lifts his chin and turns tail, gracefully trotting over to Jin, rubbing his face against the man’s shin.

Taehyung gasps in abject horror at the betrayal, sinking fully onto the rough gravel of the driveway, but Jin just grins and bends down, gently scratching the dog’s head.

You let out a disbelieving laugh at the scene, drawing their attention. “What is going on?”

Immediately, the two men point at each other accusingly, the dog - Mango - snuffling at Jin’s hand when he realises his petting has ceased.

Jin calmly resumes stroking the mutt with a mellow expression. “Taehyung kidnapped a dog.”

“I did not!” the younger man protests vehemently. “I found him wandering around all by himself and I put out some food for him.” Taehyung turns to you with desperate eyes. “Jin called him filthy!”

“I did,” the therapist admits easily, “‘cause he is.” Crouching down, he gets closer to eye-level and pouts. “All this mud and dirt on you, hm? Not nice, is it? Poor bo-” Jin cuts himself off as the dog rolls over on its back, wiggling against the gravel happily. The three of you stare in silence for a few moments at Mango, before Jin slowly pans up to stare at Taehyung. “You thought Mango was a boy this whole time?”

Taehyung scratches his head with a helpless shrug. “Well, I didn’t think to check his dick for confirmation! I mean, her dick. No dick. Uh…”

Jin’s ignoring him, however, in favour of giving Mango tummy rubs, grinning at the whipping of her tail as it wags. “Oh, Taehyungie is so mean to you, isn’t he? Poor girl. I wouldn’t trust him with a cactus,” he admits in a mock whisper.

“I resent that,” Taehyung shouts lowly, voice getting louder as he gets worked up, “Cactuses don’t even have dicks, so it wouldn’t be an issue.”

“Neither does Mango,” Jin quips sharply.

“Hey!” the younger boy yells, pouting at the sight of Mango snuggling up to Jin so willingly.

From behind, the sudden bang of a fist on glass makes you jump. Whirling around, you watch in bewilderment as Jimin rushes outside, eyes wide and mouth rounded at the sight.

“What the fuck is all the racket about?” he exclaims in bewilderment. “We’re trying to watch a movie but we can’t hear a thing over the sounds you’re- is that a dog?”

“Mango!” Taehyung chimes. “H- She’s my dog!”

“That wasn’t what you said earlier,” Jin begins, and Jimin tuts loudly to break off the bantering.

“Goodness, she’s a skinny little thing,” Jimin says with worry, passing you to go crouch beside Jin. He holds a hand out and smiles softly as Mango presses her nose into his palm. “Dirty, too. There’s a hose out back that does warm water, let’s clean her off and get her some food.”

Your heart warms at the same fond tone in his voice that you’d heard at Mrs. Park’s house. “I’ll go get some soap and towels,” you offer, “I need to go get my shoes on anyway.”

Jimin, already fully dressed in tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt - the most casual you’d seen him yet - turns around to nod at you. “Thank you,” he chirps, “we’ll be around back.”

By the time you get ready and come back with the supplies, Taehyung is already manning the hose, running his fingers through the stream to wait for it to warm up as he chats away with Jimin. Clearly a fan of the oldest, Mango is still happily hanging around Jin’s ankles, whole body wagging as she gets her ears scratched.

Jimin glances up when you round the corner, and rushes forward to take the items from your hands. “Thank you, let’s hope-” He pauses, staring down at the bottle. “Is this my hand-soap?”

You suppress a sheepish grin. “It says mild and unscented, I thought it would be better for Mango than body wash.”

“Fair enough,” Jimin allows, before turning back around to the other two. “Alright, let’s hope Mango likes water.”

As it turns out, Mango positively thrives with the water, panting happily as her fur is soaked with the warm water. Crouching to your side, you squirt some soap out onto her back, and you and Jimin begin massaging it in on either side of her while Jin holds up her head to keep it free from suds.

It takes a while, but Mango is patient, and you’re determined to make sure all the grit and dirt accumulated from a life of sleeping rough is washed away. Beneath the matted filth is beautiful white fur, the palest brown in places. With tiny feet and delicate ears, she may be a mutt but she’s a beautiful one, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Jin’s fond smile as he stares into her baleful eyes.

Taehyung rinses her down, the suds collecting on the back lawn, and before any of you even think to get away, Mango braces herself and shakes, spraying droplets all over the four of you.

Closest to her body, it’s you and Jimin that cop most of the downpour, and you hiss at the feeling of it soaking your shirt and running down your neck. Taehyung gasps and ditches the hose to chuck a towel over her wet body, but the damage has been done.

Across from you, on the other side of Mango, Jimin’s pink lips are rounded gracefully in a gasp, eyes clenched shut. You can’t help but grin as he slowly blinks away the water in his eyes with a low moan of disappointment, the delicately-applied makeup now smudging, a watery layer of mascara ringing his eyes. When he stretches up into a crouch, his pants are spotted with water though mostly okay, and it’s clear his shirt displays the majority of the water.

Clinging to him obscenely, the thin white cotton is made see-through with the effect of Mango’s shake-off. It exposes the harsh black lines of his tattoo, which winds around his ribcage, nevermind. You’d seen it laid bare twice before, but you’d been too wound up from his teasing to even really look. Now, though, you admire the way it stands out so starkly even behind a layer of fabric, the edges blurred but still strong and pure black.

As he huffs and wrings out the fabric, Taehyung cackles behind him, and Jimin’s face darkens. Without any time for the younger man to react, Jimin’s grabs the still-running hose and turns it onto Taehyung, drenching him with a triumphant yell.

“Hey!” Taehyung screeches, hair covering his eyes heavily as his pyjamas sag against his body. “No fair!”

You jump away as Taehyung begins to wrestle with Jimin for the hose, the two grinning like idiots even as they scrabble.

Jin, calmly patting down Mango, chooses to instead lift her into his arms bundled in the towel. He crooks his head at you. “Let’s go down to the pool and dry off a bit in the sun,” he suggests. “Save getting caught in the middle of this battle.”

You squint against the glare of the late morning sun that glints off the pool. You’ve never been there yourself or seen anyone swim in it, and its lack of use is clear by the uneven layer of leaves that floats across its surface. “If you dunk me in that dirty-ass pool, I’ll kill you.” Even with the venom in your words, you follow him over, the chaos of the two boys left behind growing quieter and quieter.

“Don’t worry,” Jin assures you sweetly, “I’ll clean it first.” With that, he steps up onto the concrete patio that surrounds the large rectangle and makes his way over to the three haphazard pool chairs beside the edge. “You and Mango can relax here.”

Eying him suspiciously, you sit on the gauzy canvas of one of the lounge chairs and lean back, letting out a sigh as the warm of the sun settles onto your skin like a blanket. “Fine,” you sigh out, too comfortable to protest, “just while Mango dries off.”

Jin works quietly, without haste. All you hear as you throw an arm over your eyes is the occasional tinkling of water and the snuffling of the dog Jin sat down beside you.

With the sun beating down on you, warming your soaked shirt, you let your mind wander lazily. You hadn’t really had a chance to properly think after the elimination. Or lack of, you suppose. All of Monday had you feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt, until Hoseok served your penance and allowed you to put your mind at ease again. Now, though, you take a chance to think over how the game has changed.

It was moments like earlier, when groups of you were together and laughing, that made you happy to be here. The thought that you were no longer evicting one contestant a week felt like a hundred-year burden finally being lifted off your shoulders.

Though of course, with all the good, came bad, too. The guys said they wouldn’t take you personally, and at least now everyone would know the decision was based on sex alone, but it didn’t take a psychic to see how bad things could turn if someone took it wrong. Already you can picture fights, sulking, resentment, and the thought scares you.

And then the punishment for you touching them. It was something you hadn’t seen coming for a second, though all of Sejin’s twists had gotten you off-guard. The thought that the other guys would have control over what you wore if you ever slipped up gives you pause. You’re confident in your body, but they would be well within their rights to make you wear something humiliating. You bite down hard on your tongue. Just don’t fuck the outed members, you hiss at yourself. Easy as that.

Not so easy, perhaps, when the thought of every one of them made your heart ache and shift in your chest.

“You aren’t asleep, are you?”

You shoot up in fright at the sudden exclamation, startled out of your train of thought. “No, what?” your tongue fumbles, before you squint in front of you to the poolside and your mouth drops open.

As casual as ever, Jin stands on the far edge, leaning his weight on a long leaf skimmer, the net resting on the end of the pole, above his head. That isn’t what has your attention, though. As you raise a hand to block the sun, you feel your mouth water at the sight of him standing in nothing but a pair of dark grey boxers, hand on his hip casually like it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

“What the fuck are you doing?” is the only thing your mind can think to say.

Jin chuckles, the motion making his broad shoulders jump up and down. Your mouth drops wider open, eyes roaming his figure. Basking in the attention, he smiles broadly. “Cleaning your pool,” he answers easily, “Miss Y/n.”

Your brows knit together. “My po- Oh.” You take a moment to analyse the situation - single lady on the pool chair watching as a hot and scantily-clad young man cleans it for her. Pool boy. A bemused giggle bubbles up your throat as you remember Jin’s disbelieving reaction when he drew the card. “Really?”

Jin just shrugs. “I’m just here to do my job, Miss. Saving up money for college. But it’s so hot out here that-” Jin breaks off with a pout as you begin to crack up, curling over your own torso with the force of it. “Hey! Why are you laughing at me?”

You try to let your laughter die down enough to speak, still giggling wetly as your eyes tear up a bit from it. “Sa-saving up for college,” you make out before cracking up again. “You don’t have to pay to be a professor, Jinnie.”

His mouth drops open in offence at your quip, letting the leaf skimmer clatter onto the concrete dramatically. On the chair beside you, Mango wakes up with a start at the noise and flees, scampering off in the direction of the villa. Still offended, Jin turns and makes his way around the edge of the pool towards you with a huff. “The disrespect these days,” he declares, “I’m just a poor uni student trying to make a quick buck and all you’re doing is insulting me.”

You sit up, watching him keep your gaze step by step. The sun is beautiful on him, honeying his brown hair and bronzing the smooth skin of his chest, shoulders and arms. He’s beautiful, but of course he doesn’t need you telling him to know that. “You shouldn’t talk back to your employer, Jinnie,” you quip as he nears.

As intimidating as someone can be wearing nothing but underwear - you can spy his clothes haphazardly strewn on the concrete on the other side of the patio - Jin steps in front of the lounge chair, blotting out the sun with his broad back. “Luckily for you,” he answers smoothly, “I just finished. I’ll just collect the cash and get out of your hair.”

You stare up at him, eyes aching now that they’re not fighting against the glare of the sun. Even though you’ve never been in this situation before, and certainly don’t have much experience with role-play, the words come easy to you. “But I don’t have any money.”

His grin turns wolfish, like he’d been hoping you’d say that. Your stomach flips as he lifts one leg over the end of the lounge chair, straddling it. “I suppose I’ll just have to claim my payment in some other way.”

Your heart races as he sits down, boxers doing nothing to hide his straining erection. “Like what?” you ask weakly, breath hitching as his fingers stretch out to brush over the button of your shorts.

Jin’s eyes are hot on yours, twin points of heat everywhere they roam. First between your legs, then up to meet your gaze. “Will you let me taste you?” he asks, previous humour completely evaporated. He stares at you intensely, like nothing else is as important as this, and you find yourself nodding before you even process it.

“Wait,” you gasp as he slips open the button, zip sliding down smoothly, “out here? The others-”

“Have gone inside,” Jin cuts in easily, fingers dipping below the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches, hips lifting to help him slip them off your legs and onto the concrete beside, shoes and socks following. “We’re alone.”

The warmth of the chair’s fabric below you is strange on your skin, but Jin isn’t content with just your core being exposed. Tapping your arm, he guides you to raise them as he lifts your shirt, tossing it away in the same direction. Almost bare for him, the only thing that remains is your bra, and without hesitation his fingers find the clasp, leaning forward to capture your mouth with his suddenly as he slips the bra down your arm.

Naked beneath him, you whimper into his mouth as he presses his chest against you, arms caging you on either side. It’s been a long time since you’ve kissed him, and it feels just as heady as last time, his lips soft but so firm and thorough as they claim you.

Jin kisses with all his energy, like it’s his only purpose, and the intense way he works your mouth open and licks up into it, swirling his tongue dizzily over yours has you hooked on him, needing more even as he gives you more than you feel you can handle.

After a time, you feel him shift, and you groan past swollen lips as he slides down your body, trailing an unbroken line of kisses down your throat and chest until he’s cupping a breast in his hand, hot mouth descending on a stiff peak. You cry out, back arching with the delicious stimulation as he suckles on it needily.

“Still so sensitive,” he remarks with a chuckle, and any protest at his teasing tone is lost under the indulgent way he flicks his tongue over the bud, circling it deftly. It’s sinful, the way you watch him, watch his eyes close in bliss and your peak roll under the ministrations of his tongue, like a show of what’s to come.

Once he gives a final wet suck to bring it to its full stiffness, he moves across to the other one, thumbing the first lazily to keep those hot coals of pleasure burning inside you.

Sensing you can take it, he’s rougher with the second nipple, tugging at it with his teeth, sucking harshly and laving his tongue over it when you whimper at the sting. “Perfect for me,” his voice makes out in a gravelled tone, “you’re like a fucking four-course meal.”

You chuckle airily, though it’s cut off by a hitched whimper as he ventures lower yet again, letting his tongue and lips lead the way over the skin of your stomach, until you can feel the warmth of his breath where you need to feel him most. “Jinnie,” you breathe pleadingly, toes curling as he dips out his tongue to wet his lips.

“Will you be good while I taste you, hm?” Jin questions lowly, voice silken like his lips.

You nod with a swallow, but your throat has gone dry just watching him. The sight of his fingers digging in to the flesh of your thighs, his lips pursing, his eyes swirling with mischief and lust. “Need you, Jinnie,” you find yourself pleading again.

He hums in bemusement, and you unconsciously hold your breath as he finally dips his head down. The first contact isn’t his tongue at all, but his lips, pressed to the upper seam of your thigh. You gasp, core clenching, but he pays no mind, laying a delicate trail across your thigh, until he jumps over and begins the other side.

With a whine, you part your legs wider, bare feet grazing on the sunbaked concrete. The rough texture reminds you of the fact that you’re outside, bared to the world, and you whine again. “Jinnie, hurry.”

“Patience,” he chastises lowly, pinching the inner of your thigh between two fingers to make you jump. “I cleaned out the pool for you, the least you can do is let me enjoy you.”

You swallow down your needy moan, head falling back against the lounge chair. “Sorry,” you gasp out instead, hoping he appreciates your manners and takes mercy on you.

Instead, he just grins. “So polite,” the therapist muses, “I wonder how long that’ll last.” One at a time, slow like he’s drawing out your anticipation, he lifts your legs onto his broad shoulders, tilting your hips up to expose you to him better.

The moment he touches his tongue to your core, you know you’re fucked.

Languid, exploratory, he delves the muscle through your folds, swirling once around your sensitive clit before dipping back down again. You sigh out, enjoying every motion, but it’s far too slow, and he knows it.

As you glance down, his lips are stretched in a slick grin, which he makes no attempt to mask. Obscenely, he wraps his lips around one of yours and sucks, slurping at your juices without shame.

You sob, thighs tensing, but he holds you open calmly and gives the same ministration to the other side, collecting your arousal on his tongue like he’s savouring it. More and more leaks out of you at the feeling of him going down on your for his own pleasure, and he groans in approval.

In his grasp, you attempt to cant your hips down to angle your clit closer to his roving tongue, but he deftly ignores your attempt, devouring you at his own pace.

After the clouds pass, the sun pierces your eyes again, and you throw an arm over your face to block it out, body writhing under his slow stimulation. “Ji-Jinnie,” you hiccup, but he doesn’t even reply, fingers clutching tighter at your thighs and ass to latch you onto him firmer.

When a breeze picks up, it wafts over you, cooling the spit on your nipples and peaking them even more, and you shiver at the feeling. Hearing a distant swishing sound, you lift your arm up and glance towards the source, only to go stiff once you see.

About ten metres away, the outdoor dining area is not as empty as it was before, Yoongi pausing with two plates full of cooked meat and potatoes, eyes directly locked on you. With a flip of arousal and dread, you watch as more members of the house file out; Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok joining him and gawking when they see you and Jin.

Cheeks flushing violently, you push at Jin’s head. “They-they’re out here, Jin, you need to stop-” you break off as he pulls back and glances over, chin and lips shiny with your arousal.

“Lunchtime,” Yoongi calls out with a wry grin, and you groan as he continues to set the table outside, the younger ones following suit. Namjoon seems the most startled of the four, but not one of them has looked away. Jungkook’s eyes are so wide you can see them rounded from here, a hand pressing to the front of his crotch.

You make another effort to wriggle out of Jin’s grip, but without even looking at you he keeps you locked in, spread for him. “Thanks, but I’m already eating!” he quips proudly, and you sob in embarrassment at the pun, covering your hands and scrunching your eyes shut.

Unable to see, however, you’re taken off-guard when Jin suddenly descends on you like a man starved. You go stiff and shriek at the sudden strong suck on your clit, before clapping a palm over your mouth. The distant sounds of the guys having lunch just makes you drip more, and Jin doesn’t miss it.

“You like that, dirty girl?” You sob at the question, but he just chuckles lowly. “Acting all shy, all coy, but this pussy of yours just loves being watched. Shall we give them a show?”

You barely have time to muster a wordless cry in response before his tongue, lips and teeth are ravishing you with only one intent: to bring you to a screaming orgasm.

You writhe as much as his grip allows you, overtaken by the sudden onslaught of pleasure, but it’s inescapable. While you can muffle your moans with your fist, biting harshly on your knuckles, there’s no denying the four men dining outside can see the way you tremble and arch, and the thought just makes you cry out more.

Your high arrives quickly as you squeeze your eyes shut, not bearing to look towards the voyeurs or even Jin as his tongue delves deep into you, nose nudging your clit as he goes.

Risking a glance over to the dining area quickly, it’s the sight of all four men sitting down, eyes heavy on you as the food remains untouched that sends you over the edge.

You reach out desperately for Jin; one hand buried into his hair and the other clutching at his hand. He holds onto you tightly as he works you through your orgasm until your thighs are shaking and your chest is heaving with the force of it.

When the tremors finally subside, he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, and then lets your legs down. You pant quietly as he sits up and pats your pussy playfully with a grin. To your confusion, he then stands up and rubs at the red texture marks that the gauzy fabric of the lounge chair has imprinted, and begins to walk off towards the house.

You frown, sitting up with a still-racing heart. “Where are you going?” you question incredulously.

With a shit-eating grin, Jin sends you a wink, not even bothering to go collect his clothes or hide his straining erection. “Lunchtime.”

“Will Mango be okay?” Taehyung asks worriedly.

Jimin tsks, but his tone is warm as he levels a stare at the younger man. “She’ll be fine, Tae, she’s a big girl. Besides; Hoseok looked like he’d fallen in love. I bet she’s getting treated like a queen right now.”

Taehyung glances down the stairs morosely as they turn the corner. “Good,” he muses, “she is.”

Jimin doesn’t notice Taehyung following him until he steps into his room, only to see the masseuse still behind him. “Do you need something?”

Still in pyjamas soaked from the water fight, Taehyung looks nonetheless beautiful. Jimin takes a moment to look over the tanned boy, his lithe frame exposed by the clinging fabric and his hair hanging long with the weight of the water. His lips are delicately sculpted like from marble, and he can’t help himself from starting at the slight pout as Taehyung asks softly, “does your room have a bath? Jungkook said you did.”

Jimin blinks. “How would Jungko- Oh.” The already-faded memory of Jungkook barging in on his morning routine sharpens back into colour. Of course. “Anyway, yes, I do. Why’s that?”

“Just wondering.” Taehyung shifts, a ring of dark grey on the carpet around him from the water that drips off his body.

Jimin dares a glance at the cameras in the corners of the hallway. If the two of them soak the carpet much more, Sejin will have their heads. Sighing he steps further into his room, opening the door wider. “Do you want to use it?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Taehyung brightens up, grin so broad it exposes his back teeth. “Yes, please, hyung!”

Jimin takes a deep breath to stop himself from mirroring the smile, simply shutting the door behind them both as Taehyung rushes into the bathroom, skidding on the floor with his wet feet. “Careful,” Jimin scolds quickly, “you’ll fall.” Avoiding Taehyung’s imploring gaze, he steps past him to put in the plug and begin running water, shivering at the feeling of his wet clothes cold against his skin. “Do you like it hot?”

“Always,” Taehyung answers without hesitation. Though Jimin can’t see his face, the low timbre of the masseuse’s voice gives him pause. “Can we have bubbles?”

Like that, the moment of tension is broken, and Jimin straightens up with a laugh, turning to him. “We?”

Taehyung pouts again, shaking the hair out of his eyes. “You aren’t gonna shower while I have a bath, are you, hyung? That’s a waste of water.”

Jimin feels his eyebrows rise, but the motion catches his attention in the mirror. He gasps at his reflection behind Taehyung; with the liner and mascara around his eyes smudged like a racoon and his foundation patchy, he looks like a mess. “Goodness,” he sighs, “why didn’t you tell me I look like this?”

Taehyung’s eyes are wide with uncertainty as Jimin rushes to the vanity, hastily fishing in the drawers for an oil cleanser to remove the dregs of pigment on his face. “You still look beautiful, hyung,” Taehyung offers softly.

“I look like a teenage girl that just got dumped.” Jimin scoffs a laugh as he viciously rubs at his skin, rinsing it off in the sink with a sigh. Straightening up again, he winces at the reflection that greets him. Red nose and chin, cheeks round without the illusion of contour, eyes looking too small in his face. Every flaw makes him bite down on his tongue harsher, until he whirls himself around, unable to look longer. With his jaw tense, Jimin tugs off the silver rings that adorn his fingers. “Fuck it, I’ll have a bath.”

Instead of cheering like Jimin expects him to, wants him to, Taehyung just eyes him with quiet concern. Over the loudly gushing faucet, his voice is barely audible as he repeats, “you still look beautiful.”

“Do you want vanilla or peaches and cream?” Jimin offers instead. “For bubbles, I mean.” Busying himself with picking out the bottles from the shower, he misses the frown on Taehyung’s face.

“Peaches, please, hyung,” the younger man requests warmly, shivering at the strange tension in the air. “Peach is my favourite scent, you know?”

“Is it?” The thought brings a smile to Jimin’s lips, as he discards the other bottle and begins drizzling body wash over the stream, bubbles frothing immediately. The bright yet sweet scent begins to fill the room, and Jimin’s smile widens. “It suits you.”

Once the tub is aptly full, and bubbles cover the surface, Jimin caps the bottle and peels the fabric of his shirt off himself with soapy hands, sighing as the weight is removed. He spares a glance to Taehyung, who still stands motionless in the middle of the room in a puddle of water. “You can get in now,” he provides, “I don’t bite.”

The blatant lie tugs a grin from Taehyung’s lips as he obediently begins undressing. “You forget I’ve seen your videos,” he quips wryly.

“Oh, I certainly haven’t forgotten, Taehyungie.” It takes more effort to strip himself from his blue jeans, totally waterlogged, but Jimin kicks off his shoes and does it one leg at a time. Naked, he seeks out the warmth of the water, sighing as he steps in and sinks below the bubbles, glancing over to Taehyung, who avoids his gaze as he slips off his boxers, the fabric slapping wetly on the white tiles.

It’s the first time Jimin’s seen Taehyung fully naked, and he can’t help his eyes from roaming. Smooth chest leading to a narrow waist and soft stomach, Taehyung’s cock standing at half-mast like he’s still unsure whether he should be aroused or not. Hastily, he steps into the bath, facing Jimin on the other side, and Jimin watches those delicate, slender fingers flex on the side of the tub as he settles in. Those fingers that played Y/n like she was an instrument. Those fingers that relaxed Jimin more than he’d felt in years, without even needing a release.

“I did what you suggested, hyung,” Taehyung says lightly, knees poking out of the water as he sticks as far to his end of the tub as possible. He pokes his chin forward, running a finger over his jaw and lower cheek. “I’m growing it out.”

Jimin smiles at the younger man warmly, the warmth of the water relaxing his muscles and softening him more than he’d normally be. Or perhaps it was the earnest, non-judgmental air Taehyung always held. Either way, he finds himself leaning forward slightly to brush his fingertips over the bottom of Taehyung’s face. The slightly sharp texture of exposed hairs and beginnings of a dark shadow evidence that he hadn’t shaved since Monday morning. “It’s growing in fast,” he comments, eyes darting to see the way Taehyung’s pulse thrums visibly on his neck.

Taehyung swallows, eyes locked on Jimin. “That’s why I usually shave everyday,” he explains lightly. Perhaps unconsciously, the masseuse’s legs part slowly, water rushing in to fill the void.

Shifting closer again, up on his knees, Jimin continues to inspect the 5 o’clock shadow on Taehyung’s face. “It looks nice,” he says softly; “handsome.”

Taehyung’s eyes blink widely. As Jimin’s tongue darts out quickly to wet his lips, he wonders if, had there been no bubbles, he’d be able to see Taehyung’s cock stiffening to a full erection below the water. The thought sends blood rushing down to his own dick, and Jimin sighs.

Sensing the silence has extended long enough, Taehyung swallows. “Do you think she’ll like it, hyung? What if it’s too rough?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” Jimin points out, voice coming out breathier than expected, and his hand snakes around the back of Taehyung’s neck to drag him into a kiss.

The black-haired boy squeaks in surprise at the first contact, but quickly he’s melting, reaching up to grasp blindly at Jimin’s shoulders with a whimper. The reciprocation simultaneously relaxes Jimin and sends him into a frenzy, and he slides himself closer, between Taehyung’s parted legs to deepen the kiss.

If Jimin angles his head just right, his chin feels the slight prickle of Taehyung’s unshaven face, and he makes a noise of approval low in his throat, nipping at the lips that have swollen under his ministrations. Of course the idea wasn’t for kissing Y/n, but if Taehyung could kiss that good with his scruff, Jimin couldn’t imagine what a joyride Y/n was in for when she’d feel that between her thighs. Jimin grins into the kiss at the thought.

The air is thick with arousal and peaches, and the heady combination has Jimin needing more, tongue slipping out to lave over Taehyung’s lips. The younger man whimpers, and Jimin takes the opportunity of his open mouth to run his tongue along Tae’s, leaning further and further forward until their chests are pressed together.

With a needy gasp, Taehyung pulls away, turning his head just slightly to the side to suck in some air, eyes blown with lust. “Are- Jimin?” he stutters out incoherently, the sound of his panting rivalled only by the sloshing of the water that their movements have stirred up.

Jimin’s heart races; thrill on top of arousal on top of concern, his grin falling. “Do you not want to?”

Taehyung narrows his brows like he doesn’t comprehend, and glances around the room. “But there are no cameras?” he supplies, voice lilting at the end like a question.

“I know,” Jimin explains, feeling his own brain struggling to keep time, “I don’t want the cameras.”

“Then…” The lost look on Taehyung’s face breaks Jimin’s heart, and he resists the urge to press a kiss right between his brows, where a crease has formed.

Jimin wills his heart to slow, taking a deep breath. “I- I think for once, I want to have sex not because it’s my job, but because I want to get closer to someone. I know you watch my videos, but… Taehyung, would you want to have sex with me? Just… just me? Not Park Jimin?”

Taehyung tilts his head, a confused smile beginning to tug at his lips. “But you are Park Jimin-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin cuts him off, leaning back to get out of the tub. “It was stupid and I shouldn’t have-”

“Minnie.”

Jimin freezes, eyes finding Taehyung’s with a wide stare.

The younger boy’s gaze is soft behind black curls, imploring. “I like you, you know? It was never the videos or the persona. Just you. Whether we have sex or not, you should know that.”

The backs of Jimin’s eyes sting. He ignores it, instead settling back down into the now-lukewarm water. “I-” But it’s too much. He doesn’t know what to say, how to deal with the words he hasn’t heard for years and years. So instead, Jimin just cracks a shy smile, heart easing. “I do still kinda wanna have sex with you, though.”

Taehyung laughs, wide and squared, his eyes little crescent moons. “I want to have sex with you, too,” he assures. “Shall we continue?”

Jimin feels his lips stretch instinctively into a smile, before he’s leaning in and pressing them to Taehyung’s again.

Kissing Taehyung feels good; it’s more addictive and heady than he’s ever felt it in years, bar that night with Y/n. Letting his own want and desire take over instead of worrying about camera angles, lighting, viewers - is this why people like it so much?

Taehyung seems to enjoy it, too, gasping into Jimin’s mouth. The blue-haired man can feel the tickle of Taehyung’s lashes as his eyes flutter with every stroke of his tongue, and Jimin swallows a groan wondering what he’ll sound like later if he’s this responsive now.

Testing it out, he runs a hand up Taehyung’s side, seeking out a dusky brow nipple, wet with steam from the tub, and thumbs at it. Back arching suddenly, the masseuse moans into Jimin’s mouth, reaching both hands up to bury his fingers in Jimin’s hair to anchor him.

Jimin continues to circle and flick at it until Taehyung is positively squirming under his touch. Only then does he let his hand slide down again, this time delving beneath the warm embrace of the water, seeking out the hard length between Taehyung’s legs.

“Fuck,” Taehyung gasps out when he feels fingers wrapping around his cock, not stroking yet but with enough pressure to make him need more. “Want you inside me, Jimin.”

“Yeah?” Jimin confirms breathlessly with a grin. Fingers trailing lower, he easily locates the tight ring of muscle, making the younger man groan as he presses gently at the rim with a single fingertip. “Have you done this before?”

“Bottomed?” Taehyung questions. “Of course. I’m fine, hyung.”

Instead of responding, Jimin takes a moment to lift up one of Taehyung’s knees, unfolding it so that it rested over the edge of the tub. Wide-eyed, the masseuse lets Jimin give the same treatment to the other, until he’s spread open, ass no longer quite reaching the bottom as he floats in the water.

Though he can hear the spatter of water on the tile, dripping off Taehyung’s legs, Jimin ignores it and begins to work a finger past the boy’s rim, drinking in his groans as it sinks inside.

Water isn’t the best lubricant, so Jimin goes slowly, and it’s only once Taehyung grows restless with just one finger that Jimin starts to use two. It takes a moment, but as he crooks his fingers just right, Taehyung lets out a shaky cry, clenching down suddenly. “Just there?” Jimin questions with a wry smile.

Taehyung’s thighs tremble. “Right there, hyung, fuck.” The black-haired boy fusses so beautifully as Jimin continues to stretch him out, pads of his fingers focussing on that sensitive bud of tissue inside. “I-I’m ready, Minnie, I need you.”

Jimin’s heart hitches at the nickname again, and his cock throbs at the thought of finally being able to fuck him. “Are you sure?” he checks one last time, receiving a hasty nod.

The moment Jimin slowly bottoms out, hips flush against Taehyung’s ass, he knows he’s not going to last long. Luckily, Taehyung seems to share the sentiment, groaning obscenely and clutching at his own length, hissing at the contact.

“Fuck, Tae-tae, you feel so good,” Jimin sighs as he begins to set a languid but deep pace. It was natural for his tongue to run during sex; dirty talk was huge in his industry, and sometimes he felt like part of him ran on autopilot during his scenes. Slutty pussy this, dumb cock that; but this didn’t even feel like dirty talk to him. As he buried himself in Taehyung over and over, it felt closer to a confession.

“Ah, Minnie,” Taehyung whimpers, beginning to stroke himself in time, chest arching out of the water, “kiss me.”

His eyes are dark with lust but puppy-soft as he blinks up under his lashes at Jimin, and it’s impossible to resist. Not that he wants to, when Taehyung’s lips feel so perfect on his.

The younger boy whimpers delicately into Jimin’s mouth when they’re joined again, and Jimin feels his high creeping up on him. Embarrassingly fast, he’d think normally, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed now.

“I’m close,” he whispers quickly to Taehyung, picking up the pace so that the water sloshes loudly around them, bubbles dissolving.

Taehyung groans, wraps his free arm around Jimin’s shoulders to hold himself closer, and speeds up his hand. “Me too,” he confesses, “cum inside, Minnie.”

With a low curse, Jimin is spilling inside Taehyung, hips stuttering their pace. Taehyung chases his lips through his own orgasm, gasping so much that he can barely reciprocate. It feels dirty and exquisite; the way their lips and tongue join so messily together, shuddering in unison as pleasure wracks their bodies.

Once Jimin finally comes down from his high, he’s panting. Hair damp from the steam and face hot, for once he doesn’t worry about if his o-face was attractive or his voice gravelly enough. He feels beautiful.

---

Taehyung’s nowhere to be found by the time you and the other boys finish lunch, and so there’s nobody to protest when Jin suggests the two of you can look after Mango.

Although not trained, Mango is nonetheless polite, and it’s far past sunset by the time Jin and you finish up your photoshoots and online shopping, Jin happily spending a fortune on a dog bed, pedigree food and enough toys for a whole kennel. He insists it’s because Sejin would have his ass if he asked the producer to spend more of the show’s funds, but that doesn’t stop the therapist spamming Sejin’s personal cell with pictures and messages, determined to make a point.

The two of you are exhausted from a day well spent as you snuggle lazily in Jin’s bed, a laptop propped up on your lap as you yawn away to a documentary on squirrels.

“We can go to sleep if you want,” Jin reminds you as a deep baritoned narrator explains the child-rearing techniques of female squirrels. “It’s past midnight.”

“You’re past midnight,” you retort sleepily, before your brain catches up with you. “Ah. No. Maybe you’re right.”

With a teasing smile and kind eyes, Jin takes the laptop away, plugging it in on his desk before returning back. “I’m glad, you know,” he muses as he slips under the covers again, your arms and legs immediately latching onto his frame.

Once he settles, you place your head on his chest, the internal beating of his heart a soothing metronome. “Glad about what?”

“Glad that this week’s challenge was you sleeping in different beds. I never got to sleep beside you that first night.”

“You could’ve,” you point out.

“It was only the first night,” he allows, voice rumbling in his chest, “I didn’t want to cross any lines and you fell asleep before I could get an answer.”

You hum, snuggling closer even as your whole body is pressed against him. He’s just so warm, and he feels so safe when he wraps his arm under and around you, holding you there. “I was gonna seduce you,” you whine with a yawn. “Tonight, I mean. You didn’t fuck me before so I was gonna seduce you. But you smell so good. I just wanna sleep.”

Jin seems to share the sentiment, muffling the yawn he caught from you. “You can seduce me in the morning.”

“Promise?”

Jin laughs, wincing when it jostles you violently on his chest. “Fuck, sorry. But yes, I promise. Now go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

Your hand unconsciously finds the collar of his pyjama shirt, clutching at it. You feel the warmth of his hand wrapping around it, flipping it over to lace his fingers through yours. You think you could stay here forever, but perhaps tonight is a good place to start. “Goo’night,” you mumble.

Jin’s voice is barely audible, naught a whisper, but you feel it in his chest. “Night, sweetheart.”

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chubbybuckydumpling · 4 years

Text

A Doctor’s Tale

words: 6.9k

relationship: Bruce Banner x desi!daughter!Reader

warnings: character death, slight spoilers for Marvel Studio’s The Avengers, fluff, angst

A/n: thank you so much @gotnofucks for helping me with this idea! You’re so kind and I hope I didn’t make this offensive in any way. I’m happy for any corrections. Please be kind, this was very difficult for me to write and I committed a few writing sins. I hope you’ll enjoy this any way :) (gif by @steves-on-a-plane)

My Masterlist | Part 2

The air was heavy with moisture, yet the heat of the day has not passed. Bruce heaved with exhaustion, the new climate put a noticeable strain on his body. The temperatures made him sweat vigorously and gave him a headache, especially on his way up these damned stairs. He would need to get adjusted to his new surroundings before he could work efficiently.

Another thing he would need to tolerate were the bustling streets. Everywhere Bruce looked, there were crowds of people, so close together it made his hands shake with anxiety. He preferred taking longer routes that were less public and less triggering.

After he had become afflicted with the other guy, Bruce couldn't stay. He was hunted down by the United States Armed Forces, so he had to flee. He knew he could hide in India without much trouble. He read about the country and their societal norms, so he felt somewhat calm, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of Kolkata.

The city was beautiful, of course. He admired the architecture and the many different buildings. He loved the parks, the bridges and the temples. The different kinds of food made him especially happy, yet he hated how talkative and social everyone is. No matter where he went, someone would try to bond with him, which triggered his anxiety.

Generally speaking, he enjoyed life in India, if it weren't for that unbearable weather. As he arrived at the top of the stairs, his shirt was wet from his sweat and the overly high humidity. With a sigh he pulled out a bottle of water to rehydrate – the amount of water he must have lost is remarkable. The water was warm and not as relieving as he had hoped, but it would have to suffice.

With one arm, Bruce wiped away the sweat that formed on his forehead, before he entered the house he was looking for. He heard about this shelter where some women took in ill women and children who could not afford to go to the hospital. Bruce had admired their dedication and hoped they would accept him as a volunteer.

With cautious eyes he looked around the room. He could see that the owners try their best to keep it clean and welcoming, but the smell of illness is prominent in the air. This chamber is obviously designed to be a reception area to check in their patients, but the cheap chairs and chipped wooden table were a sign of a lack of money. They were probably spending it on medical supplies and food.

Bruce stepped further into the room, the floorboards creaking, “Hello? May I speak to anyone?” Shyly, he began to play with his fingers, feet shuffling nervously.

A beautiful woman entered the room from one of the four doors and Bruce sucked in a breath when her sparkling eyes met his. She looked exhausted, but nothing could ever dim her beauty. The floor creaked slightly as she made her way to stand in front of him. She was small, yet her confidence was unmissable.

The woman raised an eyebrow, “What can I do for you, sir?” Bruce swallowed and let out the breath he had been holding, “I'm Bruce Banner. I heard about your work here. Uhm, are you the head doctor?” She crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking at him sceptically, but nodded nevertheless. “I would like to offer my help. I think this non-profit is incredible and I would love to assist?”

Finally, he broke eye contact and stared at the floor, terrified of the woman's reaction. Now, he could not see the amused smile playing on the smaller woman's lips, “Well, Bruce, how could I ever deny any help. However, I would quite like to learn something about your background, you know. Any qualifications?” Quickly, Bruce looked up a panicked look in his eyes, “Of course, I'm sorry, I should have mentioned that beforehand. I'll answer any questions, I'm sorry!”

She smiled a big toothy smile and jerked her head towards the sink, “Let me just...”. Bruce nodded quickly. It seemed that his usual knowledge of words had disappeared. All he could think about was how soft her brown skin looked and the gentle curves of her face.

“It's Aarohi, by the way”, she spoke as she washed her small hands, “Well, actually Dr. Verma, but we're friends now, right Bruce?” He smiled, completely smitten, “Right”

It was at this point that Bruce knew he would fall in love with her. And he was right. She brought out the best of him, her outgoing and confidant ways helped him to learn about himself and he rekindled with his body and soul. The three and a half years he had been in Kolkata taught him to love himself, admittedly that was still hard for him, but being able to help women and children in need made him feel good. And Aarohi had been by his side the entire time.

She opened her arms and heart for him and lead him through his issues. When he'd wake up screaming from his nightmares she was there to calm him down. His head between her hands as she pressed small kisses all over his face.

When he was too shy to talk to anyone but her, she would do her best to try and include him. By now he was way more comfortable talking to others. It was still scary, but not as panic inducing as it used to be. Bruce became a better man, all because of Aarohi, which is why after only a year and a half, he got down on one knee, hand shaking.

“You are the light in my life. When I arrived in India, everything was dark, but you showed me how to live again. I am a better man, because you bring out the best in me. I love you, with all of my heart. And I know that getting married is not possible for us, at least at the moment, but will you take this promise ring, for I promise I will forever love and cherish you, support you through thick and thin, in times of hardship and in times of ease. You are my world d without you I'd be lost. Aarohi, please accept this ring as a sign of my devotion” - and she did.

It wasn't really a surprise when she became pregnant shortly afterwards. Bruce had never been so happy before. Sometimes he feared about the other guy. What would happen if he came out or even worse, if their child would have his monster DNA, but his spouse reassured him and kept him calm as best as she could, “He hasn't come out for your whole stay in Kolkata and even if he would, I love every part of you, Bruce”

And once their baby girl was born, he was head over heels for you. From the moment he layed eyes on you he knew that he would do anything for you. “Bruce, do you want to hold her? Do you want to meet your daddy, shona?” It felt like time was frozen when he held you in his arms, your tiny fingers mindlessly holding onto him, a tiny yawn falling from your mouth.

And at times it was really hard. Bruce nor Aarohi wanted to stop working, their little clinic meant to much for them. So they switched between watching you and working. Bruce would have loved to bring you with him, but the chances of you catching a disease were too high to risk it. And therefore, your parents spent most of their time apart, yet their relationship kept growing stronger. Bruce's love for your mother increased every day and even now that you're eight months old his heart still swelled when he looked at her.

It's another hot day, the heat and humidity weighing heavily over Kolkata. Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat. The smell of tea fills the air as his thick and delicate fingers fumble with the warm cup, his eyes trained on your sleeping body. He smiles and walks over to your crib, a smile on his face, “I love you, shona”, he whispers before he gently takes you out of your little bed and cradles you in his arms.

Bonding with you means everything to Bruce. He adores you with every fibre of his being, which is why skin on skin is one of his favourite activities. To feel you and to know you're alive coats him in a sense of calmness. He sits back down at the table and rubs soothing circles onto your back, “Daddy's got you, shona don't you ever worry your pretty little head. I promise I'll protect you” Soft lips press onto your forehead, your father's scent surrounding you, “Always and forever”

Bruce gently rocks you while humming a soft melody and simply enjoying the moment. Peace and quiet are a rare occurrence in his days which is why he cherished them so deeply. Bruce loved to trace your features, to see how you look so similar to him.

He could hear Aarohi return before he spotted her through the window which allowed him to quickly dash to the door with you, still safely pressed to his chest. The door creaks as he opens it, a smile immediately covering his face as he spreads his arms for a hug, “ Welcome home Momma, we missed you so much” She laughs at his adorable greeting and steps into his embrace. Both of them are sweaty, but the feeling of their loved one is overpowering, dulling the stickiness of their bodies. Bruce gazes into her eyes as if she had hung the stars and he feels his heart flutter. It only takes a moment before their lips meet in a gentle kiss, emotions and love poured into it, “I love you, Bruce” - “I love you too. So much”

Suddenly, a small cry disturbs their moment, “Oh Y/n, shona, what's wrong? Did you miss Momma?”, she coos and takes you out of Bruce's embrace, “Don't cry, Momma's got you. Are you hungry? That's fine, I'm here” She smiles and gently strokes your hair. “She's had some fruit and veggies and a bottle that you've prepared”, he mentions as he walks into the bedroom to fetch a shirt. Aarohi smiled down at you, her beautiful daughter, “Have you been such a good girl eating all your veggies?” She takes off her bloodied and stained shirt from work and lets down her bra to feed you.

Exhaustion is clear on her face, but even when she sighs, she's the most beautiful woman Bruce has ever seen. Especially while she nourishes you, his own flesh and blood, he can feel his heart swell. She keeps you alive and healthy, the biggest gift he could have ever received. He makes his way over to the two of you and brushes some strands of hair out of her face that must have come loose from her tight bun, “How is everything at the clinic?”

“It's really stressful. I think something is going around. We'll see more of this virus for sure.”, she sighs looking down at you, “We need to be especially careful. I don't want Y/n to fall ill. Not with this” Their gazes meet “I'll make sure to be extra sterile then”, he whispers before pressing his lips to her temple.

She leans into him with a smile, eyes closed, “Thank you” His hand gently rubs over her arm, his thumb drawing circles. After a while you let out a whine, fed and sated. “Oh, shona, are you done? Does Momma need to burp you?” She wrestles you up on her shoulder to pat her soft hand against your back.

“It's very busy back there, you should hurry. Our doctors can't keep up with them alone.”, she whispers, turning her head to look at Bruce. He nods and leans down to capture her lips into a kiss. It's gentle and sweet, just like her, “I love you”, he mumbles against her lips. Then, he leans down to press a kiss onto your head, “I love you too, shona” Aarohi grins and turns you around to face him, “We love you too, Daddy”, she says and waves with your hands in her hands.

Bruce had absolutely no idea why he let himself get dragged into this mess. Actually he did, how could he ever say no to the pleading eyes of that little girl. She looked so tiny and scared and he could see you in that girl. Hopeless and scared. So he followed her, clueless about the events that were to follow soon.

Regret fills Bruce the moment he enters the house and helplessly watches as the girl leaves through a window – no ill father in sight. He huffs, a self-deprecating smile on his lips, “Should have gotten paid up front, Banner”

“You know”, a voice calls out to him suddenly, “For a man ho's supposed to be avoiding stress, you picked a hell of a place to settle” A woman appears out of the shadows, short, curly, red hair frames her face. She looks absolutely stunning. Carefully, Bruce puts down his medical bag and turns towards the female, “Avoiding stress isn't the secret”

She raises her eyebrow, “Then what is it? Yoga?”, she jokes, no humour in her voice. Nerves arising, he rubs his hands together to calm himself, “You brought me to the edge of the city”, he remarks, looking out of a window, “Smart”. With his hands clutched, Bruce walks towards it in an attempt to scan the area “ I uh,”, he mumbles, “I assume the whole place is surrounded?”

The woman takes off her red cardigan and moves towards him, “Just you and me”. “And your actress buddy?”, he questions, “She was a spy too? They start that young?” He walks back towards the middle of the room. “I did”, she answers. “Who are you?”. He is nervous and he feels his anxiety crawling up his back. “Natasha Romanoff”

Silence. Bruce still fiddles with his fingers, but after a moment he looks directly into her eyes, “Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff? Because that's not gonna work out... for everyone”. Natasha slowly moves closer to him, “No, no of course not”, she shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed, “I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D”.

He looks down and rubs his hands, “S.H.I.E.L.D”, he states monotonously, “How did they find me?” Looking up, Bruce sees her looking at him, “We never lost you, doctor. We've kept our distance. Even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent”, her voice is low like she's trying to speak extra calm. “Why?”, Bruce asks.

“Nick Fury seems to trust you”, she answers seriously, “But now we need you to come in”. He can't help but smile, “What if I say no?” Natasha smirks, her eyes twinkling dangerously, “I'll persuade you” He looks down, his pink tongue licking over his lips in thought, “What if”, he pauses to look up, “the other guy says no?” There it was, the elephant in the room.

Bruce is very proud that ever since he fled to India, the Hulk has not made an appearance. He did not receive any unwanted attention and lived life normally. He was able to be a good partner and father, never giving in to his anger. But now, things might change and that scares him. He does not want to let the monster out. It seems like Natasha knows that as well.

“You've been more than three years without an incident, I don't think you want to break that streak”, she says and turns away from him. The echo of her steps fills the room. “Well I don't every time get what I want” When he looks at the woman, she is walking towards him, a phone in her hands, “Doctor, we're facing a global catastrophe”

A self-deprecating chuckle escapes his lips, “Well, those I actively try to avoid” Without giving any thought to his statement, Natasha sits down at a small table that is situated in the room and shows him a picture of a bright, blue glowing cube, “This”, she starts and slides the phone towards him, “is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet”

Bruce fetches his glasses out of his spectacles case and puts them on. Cautiously, he grabs the phone to get a better look of the cube, In confusion, he lifts his head, “What does Fury want me to do, swallow it?” Natasha leans forward while keeping eye contact, “He wants you to find it. It's been taken. It emits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one who knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, then that's where I'd be”

Natasha leans back in her chair as he takes off his glasses, “So, Fury isn't after the monster?” “Not that he's told me”, she says calmly. “And he tells you everything?”, Bruce retorts. Slowly, but with grace, the woman stands up, “Talk to Fury, he needs you on this”. But it's too late, he can feel his fear rising, “He needs me in a cage?”

In an attempt of reassurance, Natasha begins to speak, “No one's gonna put you in a-” but she's interrupted as he suddenly slams his fists onto the table, “STOP LYING TO ME”, he shouts. With the blink of an eye, the woman grabs a gun from under the table and cocks it right into his face. A scared look settles on her face which she quickly tries to fight back.

Bruce steps back from the table. When he speaks again his voice sounds calm and collected, “I'm sorry”, he says, “That was mean”. A smile plays over his lips, “I just wanted to see what you'd do”. Natasha still holds the gun in her hands and Bruce puts his head in front of him to calm the woman down, “Why don't we do this the easy way where you don't use that”, he points to her gun, “and the other guy doesn't make a mess. Okay?”

Silence. “Natasha?”, he asks. The woman slowly lowers her gun, her gaze never leaving Bruce. After a few seconds she activates her earpiece, “Stand down”, she commands, “We're good here”. The eyebrows rise on his face, smile still on his lips, “ 'Just you and me' “, he mocks her earlier words. Natasha doesn't answer, she just stares at him from a few feet away.

“I need to tell my family. I have a daughter I need to tell her goodbye”, he suddenly realises, a panicked look on his face. Tenderly Natasha walks to him and places a hand on his shoulder, “Bruce this is urgent, there's no time”. There's a wild look in his eyes as he frantically runs to grab his bag, “No, please I have to. Y/n she's my daughter, I love her, I- I need to speak to her”

“Bruce”, the woman's voice is powerful and makes him stop in his tracks, “this is a global threat we are dealing with. There is no time. You can write a letter while we're on the jet. S.H.I.E.L.D will make sure it will arrive as soon as possible”. Bruce looks at the woman with a look that is similar to that of a kicked puppy and yet he sighs in defeat. He will soon come to learn that Natasha Romanoff does not negotiate, she gets what she wants, no questions asked. “Okay”, he whispers and follows the woman outside.

This is why you grew up being raised by a single mother. You love her more than anything in life. She made so many sacrifices and worked harder than any other person you know. She taught you everything she knew, about her work as a doctor, important life skills and most important how to be a decent human being. You try to be as kind and empathetic as you can, but you know your worth and found confidence in yourself.

Of course you're not perfect. You are insecure from time to time like any teenager and you are very temperamental from time to time. However, you are especially sensitive when it comes to the topic of your father. Ever since you could remember your mother talked to you about your father. She told you how kind and caring he is, how he loved you so much. But if he loved you so much, why wasn't he with you, with his family?

He sends letters to you and your mum and money to help you out and you appreciate that, but you wish he would just come up. Sometimes there are articles and reports about the Hulk. Aarohi had told you that your father could turn into him, but that you never had to fear him. And you don't, really. You love your father, but there's no solid relationship between you and your dad.

That is mostly your fault. You never answered your father's letters. Every time you sat down with a piece of paper and a pen nerves got the best of you. With shaky hands you put the pen down before you cried into your hands, careful to evade your mother. So one day you stopped trying.

Currently you're sitting in your room tinkering on one of your inventions. School has been quite easy for you and your mother kept telling you that you inherited your father's intelligence, a proud smile on her lips. Science came to you easily and physics as well as chemistry became your best friends. When you weren't busy helping your mother at the clinic you were experimenting with different chemicals and the laws of nature to try and broaden your understanding of the complex reactions and procedures.

The smell of spices and lemon fills the air in your room from your diffuser sticks while some soft rock plays on the radio. Your head nods involuntarily to the beat of some catchy chorus when you hear footsteps approaching. Not your mother's, she walks lighter than this. You turn around in your seat so you have a good view of the door as it opens to reveal one of the nurses that work for your mother. She frantically runs towards you, her eyes are wide and her lower lip is wobbling.

“Y/n it's your mother”, she whispers and takes a deep breath, “She just collapsed, we don't know why, I'm sorry, Y/n” You freeze at her words, eyes widening. Panic is bubbling up in your chest as your muscles tense, “What do you men? W-Will she be alright?” The woman just looks down which is as much of an answer as you need.

All of a sudden your body releases adrenaline into your bloodstream and you jump from your chair, your heart beating in your throat, “What are you waiting for?”, you yell at her, “Move!”. Your feet are moving on their own accord, the path to the clinic embedded in your brain from the thousands of times you have walked it. Hot wind is whipping your face as you run along the streets, the gravel and dirt scrunching loudly under the soles of your shoes.

You're panting once you arrive at the steps leading to the clinic, the humid air not helping with your struggle for oxygen, but you don't stop moving. The fear coursing through your veins overpowers the exhaustion. “Momma?”, you shout once you've barged through the doors. The floor creaks mournfully under your weight as you fiddle with your fingers. The smell of diseases and antibiotics hangs in the air. Usually you like being here, but now it feels like a weight that presses you down the further you walk in.

A doctor runs down the stairs, her steps rushed. She fixes you with her pitiful eyes and you feel anger bubbling up in your chest. “Y/n, my child, I'm so-” “DON'T”, you interrupt her, tears brimming in your eyes, “She won't die”. The snarling sound that leaves your mouth scares the doctor, but you run past her without care and sprint up the steps.

Upstairs, your mothers is lying on a thin mattress on the ground. Two nurses surround her, one presses a cold, wet cloth to her forehead, the other sits next to her to hold her hand. When she sees you she immediately gets up to make room for you. When your eyes land on your mothers face you release a gasp. She looks nothing like this morning when you saw her last.

She is pale around the nose, all her beautiful colours lost, and her skin is sunken down. Sweat is pooling on her forehead and runs down her temples in miserable lines while her eyes are hooded and half closed. The sound of heavy, flat breathes reaches your ears which finally breaks you out of your shock.

A few strong steps are enough to reach your mother's weak form. You fall to your knees with a soft thud and grab her hand, “Momma?”, you whisper, the first tears falling. A groan leaves her lips and she coughs nastily, “Shona?”,she croaks. A sob leaves your body and you press your head to hers, “Momma, what's happening?”

Her free hand moves up to cup your cheeks and you straighten to look into her strangely clear eyes, “I'm going to die, shona. I need you to listen to me”, she whispers hoarsely. “No”, you cry. Tears are freely rolling down your face. “No. momma you're not going to die, I won't let you, I promise”, you tell her desperately. You wipe away some tears with the back of your hand, before you open your mouth again. “Y/n”, Aarohi interrupts and you still. She never calls you by your name.

“I beg you, listen to me. I'm sick, been for a while. It's only transmitted over blood, so don't worry”, she pauses to take a breath while she shakily brushes some strands of hair out of your face. “You're a strong woman and I couldn't be prouder of you. Are you listening, Y/n?”, you nod, your vision blurry. “All I want for you is to be happy, okay? No matter what you do as long as you're happy that's all I could ask for, do you understand?”, she rasps out.

“Momma, what-”, you whimper, but she interrupts you again, “Y/n, do you understand?” You sob, but nod through the tears, “Yes, Momma” Her thumb moves to wipe away your tears and she sighs,”Good, That's good”. She coughs again and groans in pain,”Please talk to your father, shona. He loves you so much. Can you promise me that you'll write him?” Her voice sounds even weaker now, but your heart beats way too fast. The only thing cursing through you is fear. “I promise, Momma. I love you”, you cry, snot and tears mixing together.

Aarohi's hand falls from your face as her breathing becomes flatter. She closes her eyes, “I love you too, shona”, the words clumsily tumble from her lips. Your whole body trembles as it convulses. All your power leaves your body and your left to loudly cry next to your mother's death bed.

The next few weeks were hard for you,but you could never forget your mother's last words. You promised her you would reach out to your father, so you did. It wasn't long before you received an answer. His handwriting was shaky and hard to read, but you managed to figure it out, somehow. He told you he could not leave the United States by law, but he would be more than happy to welcome you into his home back in the USA.

You froze when you read his words. He wanted you to leave India, your home? You couldn't, this was your mother's everything. All your belongings and memories are in Kolkata, how could you abandon that? But then you thought back to your mother. She wanted you to be happy, right? And maybe a new beginning wouldn't hurt. After sleeping about your father's letter you realised that a blank slate is exactly what you needed right now. Because you wanted to heal.

So you wrote your father another letter in which you agreed to move in with him and began to pack your bags. You carefully chose which of your mother's things you wanted to bring with you. Many of her clothes ended up in your luggage, her distinctive smell still lingering on the fabric. The two photo albums land in there too. How could you not, they kept all the beautiful pictures of your Momma. You also brought her favourite movies, some cooking books and lots of blankets.

Packing all these things was very hard for you and you lost a lot of tears, but now when you look at all of your bags you feel very accomplished. “I'll make you proud, Momma”, you whisper and grab the one of your stuffed furry toys that you did not put into a bag. It's a medicine bottle with huge eyes and a big smile, which your father gifted you for your third birthday. It's your favourite and you decided to keep it close by for emotional support.

With one last look you sit down on your old bed and wait for your ride. Bruce wrote you that someone from the agency he works for will come and get you. Now, all you have left to do is wait.

“Come on, Bruce. It will be fine. You're shakier than me when I've been running on coffee only”, Tony smirks and pats his friend on the back., “She's your daughter, she loves you”. Bruce looks up at him with wide, slightly red eyes, “Tony, her mother just died”. The news of Aarohi's death hit him hard. Ever since he had to leave India his mental health has been suffering.

The government didn't allow Bruce to leave the country without a written agreement signed by the president. He begged them to let him return to India, but they wouldn't budge. The only thing he achieved was tighter security to keep an eye on him. He doesn't remember how many nights he cried himself to sleep. He couldn't see the love of his life or his daughter. Never before has he felt that low, not when his father murdered his mother nor when he tried to commit suicide after turning into the monster he is, but he could not give up. He wanted to be a better father than his own, he wanted to make you feel loved and appreciated.

So he settled on writing letters to you and your mother. Nothing scared him more than the thought that you might forget him or worse, hate him for leaving. He wrote you letters every months and sent you presents he hoped you would like. His biggest wish was to be as present as possible throughout your life. The only replies were from Aarohi though. She reassured him that you still loved him and talked about her life and the clinic. He wished he could be there with her.

When he finally received a letter from you he was ecstatic, but as soon as he started to read, his face fell. The love of his life is dead. Gone. He sat in his lab in shock for two hours, not moving an inch until Tony entered the room. That's when he broke down crying into his best friend's arms, “She's dead, Tony”, he whispered through his tears.

It was the billionaire's idea to invite you to live in the tower, “I know you miss her. Plus I wouldn't mind having her here. Don't tell anyone I said that, but I'd love to see you smile more often”. This was like the light at the end of a tunnel for Bruce. The thought of having you with him made his heart beat faster. Could he finally become the father you deserved?

And you agreed to his proposal. He opened your letter together with Tony as emotional support and when he read your beautiful, neat handwriting tears of joy shot into his eyes, “She said yes, Tones, she actually wants to come!” and Tony was happy to hold Bruce once more as he let out all of his tears, the tension slowly leaving his body.

Now he is waiting for the Quinjet that carries Natasha and you to arrive back in New York. She volunteered to be the one to accompany you. Even though Bruce told her he wasn't holding any grudges, Natasha felt guilty for ripping Bruce out of his family, so when the chance opened to help reunite them, she jumped at it.

“Tony”, Bruce asks, his voice wavering as if he's not sure whether or not to continue, “I'm scared, what if she doesn't li-” , but his best friend stops him, “Ah ah ah, no such negativity under my roof!” He pauses to glance at his surroundings, the wind howling around his ears, “or, you know, on my roof” Their eyes meet for a second, before Bruce goes back to rubbing his hands anxiously.

“Seriously Banner, you'll be fine. I've known you for sixteen years and I know that I have fallen in love with you at least three times”, the philanthropist says and smirks at the others shocked expression.

Before any of them can say another word the whirring of the Quinjet sounds from the distance. Bruce immediately straightens all colour draining from his face. A cold sweat is breaking out on his forehead and his hands become clammy. Tony leans forward and whispers gently, “You've got this, Banner”.

It feels like a lifetime, but also only a few seconds before the S.H.I.E.L.D plane lands on the roof and the motors slow down. Bruce holds his breath, scared, but hopeful. His life is about to change in just a few moments, for better or for worse. Nervously, his eyes focus on the exit of the Quinjet as he awaits to see you again, after sixteen years of missing you with all of his heart.

The electric sound of the gate opening makes his hands shake in anticipation. And then he sees you standing next to Natasha in all of your beauty. Your hair is pulled back into a braid which makes your eyes pop all pretty. A thin long sleeve and a pair of mum jeans hug your body nicely, yet you avoid to look into his eyes. Natasha and you both carry two suitcases each, but there are still some more bags on the plane.

The older woman gently nudges you forward with a smile to be encouraging. The cold New York air makes goosebumps rise on your arms and you shiver. This is it, you will finally meet your father. You swallow down your fear and move forward, eyes still trained on the floor. Natasha's footsteps are right behind yours which comforts you greatly. You've come to like her during the flight.

It's only when two pairs of shoes come into your vision that you stop dead in your tracks. The luggage that you've been carrying drop to the floor and you use all the courage you can muster to look up at your father, your heart beating loudly. Bruce looks as nervous as you feel, pale face and sweaty hands, but he puts on a brave face and forces a crooked grin to appear.

“Hey, shona”, he mouths your pet name. The look in his eyes is so hopeful it makes your heart churn. All the fear and anger you've carried with you is suddenly forgotten as tears collect in your eyes. The only thing you feel is the longing for your father's love that you've been deprived of for all these years. “Daddy?”,you whisper. As the words leave your mouth you start to run forwards, right towards Bruce.

He opens his arms right in time for you to fall into them, your face buried in his chest. Sobs leave your mouth as your tears stain his graphic tee, “I missed you so much”, you whimper and fist his jacket to pull him closer. He wraps his strong arms around you and carefully places his head onto yours, “I missed you too, shona, so much”. His voice breaks and a few tears begin to fall, some out of relief, some out of guilt.

The sound of your sobs and sniffles fill the silence. It's like a heavy weight was lifted from your shoulders. You were so scared to arrive in New York and how different things were going to be, but being in your father's embrace is all you needed. All this time you've been so occupied with being angry that you never realised how much you wanted any kind of fatherly love.

When you pull back to look into Bruce's eyes you stare into his red rimmed eyes, some single tears resting on his cheeks, “Y/n, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have returned home, but I had to sign these agreements and they wouldn't let me. I never forgot about you, shona. I love you so, so much”. His voice is shaky and rough and he reaches out to cup your face, his fingers wipe away your tears.

“It's okay”, you find yourself saying, “You're with me now, that's all that matters”

You both smile at each other, happiness radiating from you, when your moment is rudely interrupted. “I told you everything would be alright, Banner, Just shows you should listen to me more often”, Tony declares with a smirk to which Natasha responds with a warning glare. “Oh come on, Nat. I'm just joking”, he shouts before turning to you and winking obnoxiously.

“Y/n”, your father begins, “this is Tony, my, uh, best friend. This is his tower in which you'll be living with me. We have our own level”. Your eyes widen, “We have our own floor? That's insane!”

Tony laughs and puts a hand on your shoulder, “Of course, only the best for my science buddy and his daughter. If you have any questions, you may ask F.R.I.D.A.Y, she is an artificial intelligence built into the tower. She'll be available whenever”, he states, his eyes sparkling, “Isn't that right, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” The AI answers immediately,”Anytime, boss”.

Bruce smiles at you. His heart feels light and happy and he looks over to Natasha who gives him a thumbs up and a wink. “Dad?”, you ask him, shivering a little, “Can we go inside? I'm freezing”. “Of course”, Bruce nods eagerly, “let me just help with some of your bags”. Happily, he skips to the Quinjet to grab some of your luggage and hauls them over his shoulder. “Let's go, then”.

You walk behind your father, Natasha and Tony close by, as you take in the inside of the Avengers Tower. You can't believe your eyes: The sheer size of everything is overwhelming to you, but you're very excited. Meeting your father was scary, but now that the anxiety has fallen off of you, you're all blissed out and floaty.

The lift is very smooth, but the glass floor makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. Bruce notices your nervous shifting and slings his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to him. Grateful for the warmth, you turn to him with a smile and mouth a thank you. In just a few seconds you've reached the right floor. Once all your bags are moved into your apartment, your father turns to his friends with a smile, “I think we've got it from here. Thank you, guys”

They nod at him and leave to give you two some privacy. “Do you want to see your room? We can unpack your things”, he asks, a nervous waver in his voice, “if you're okay with me helping, of course”. You take one of his hands in your own and grin, “I want you to be there with me. I spent so much time wishing you were home. I'm not letting you go any time soon”.

Hearing these words, he can't help but tear up, “I'm so happy you're here, shona. I wish your mother could have been with us too”. You release a shaky sigh and try to hold back tears of your own, “Me too, dad. Me too”. The feeling of being pulled into a hug by your father pulls you out of our head and you realise you started crying again. “I just miss her so much”, you sob into his chest.

A sniffles sounds from above you and you raise your head to see Bruce crying, “I'm sorry”, he whispers and wipes away some of his tears. “It's okay. At least I have you back now, daddy”. Gently, he cups your head and presses a kiss to your hair, “We've got this, shona. We're not alone anymore”, he tells you meaningfully, trying to convey that he meant what he said.

“Shona, I love you”

You breathe in and place his hand on your erratically beating heart.

“I love you too, daddy. So much”.

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random-fandom1 · 3 years

Text

Lights were blaring, music blasting, sweaty bodies grinding against eachother. A hand touches Peter waist, lips attach themselves to his neck. A man, his name is James? What a strange name. A hot name. A perfect name for such a hot man. Moans escape him. Lips continue to assault his neck, a hand pulls him towards the exit

"Is this okay?"

That voice. If you could fall in love with voices, Peter would be walking down the aisle.

"yes"

8 years later

“Olly James Parker! Hurry up, you don't want to be late for your aunts! You know what MJ did last time.” Peter shudders remembering about how MJ purposely put sand in his salad the last time they were late. The quick patter of soft feet can be heard from the landing upstairs and suddenly a small boy dressed in overalls appears at the top of the stairs, a mop of brown curls covering his left eye.

"Where are we going daddy? Are we going to that fancy place Auntie Shuri took us last week? I didn't like that place, the big red things had strange eyes and the plates. They were, they were too big," The boy made huge over the top circles with his arms. Peter had to agree though, the plates were bloody huge, "I like the cafe Auntie MJ takes us too. I like Kath. She's nice. The pink doughnuts are my favourite" Peter listened to his son rant on about how pink doughnuts are his favourite from Cafe Asgard for about 5 minutes before speaking up.

"There's no need to worry babe, Auntie MJ is picking the place I think. Shuri and MJ had bet on who stole more of the others clothes, turns out it was Shuri and then Shuri, being the competitive bitch she is decided to try and seduce -" Realising he was wandering off appropriate topics for a 7 year old, and that he'd slipped up twice in that story. He looks down to realise he's probably safe as the boy is still going on about how the sprinkles are the right amount of hard. "Go get your shoes on bud"

"Ok" and with that Olly ran down the hall, curls bouncing with every step.

Peter couldn't help but admire his son. About how he was an exact copy of him, from the hair to the freckles scattered across his body. Olly carried his and his dad's intelligence and needed to figure out how stuff works. He was a total clone. Well, almost. He had his eyes. Those beautiful steel blue eyes, the ones that looked at him with so much passion that night. Peter cried when Olly opened his eyes for the first time, realising that he's going to have to be reminded of the man he fell in love with, the man who left him alone and pregnant in his bed, everyday for the rest of his life. He's going to be reminded of James.

Peter is pulled out of his thoughts by a small hand tugging his jacket.

"Come on daddy, I hear a horn honking outside. I don't want Aunties MJ & Shuri to be mad at me" Olly says, looking at his father with huge eyes, genuinely scared of angering his impatient aunts. Resisting the urge to coo, He crouches down in front of his son and wraps him in a hug.

"Oh buddy, they'd never be mad at you...me though, that's a different story. So on that note, chop chop, I'm quite fond of my head" Peter stands up from his crouched position, takes Olly's hand and walks out the front door

"-and the dinosaur was big and green with spik-"

"Ok Olls, I think that's enough of that story. Why don't we head inside" Peter said, holding a tight smile on his face. He unbuckled Olly and headed inside, followed closely by MJ and Shuri. MJ instantly headed towards their usual table beside the window while Shuri made her way into the queue where she instantly started talking to a brown haired man. 'Must be a friend from work' Peter thought. He crouched down to Olly’s level, "Why don't you go get a table with Auntie MJ and Auntie Shuri and I will order the food? You want a pink doughnut and a strawberry and banana milkshake, right?" Olly nodded and ran off towards MJ.

Peter took a moment to think about how he got to this very moment, about how he ended up having Olly. He thought back to the morning after. He woke up alone. James just slept with him, got up early in the morning and left without a word. Peter had to show himself out of his house. There was no note, no contact number, no nothing. All there was was a growing fetus and Peter who couldn't get the man with steel blue eyes and godlike voice out of his head. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with Peter so in return, Peter decided that he didn't need him. That he can raise Olly by himself without another person. It helped that he had a big family and money was never an issue, seeing as his dad owns the biggest tech company in the world and his pops is a captain in the army. Sure he thought about going back to the flat, seeing if James felt the same way about him as he did. He wondered if Bucky would raise Olly with him, if they could be a family. He's shaken from his thoughts by his phone binging in his pocket.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he sees a message from his pops.

‘hey pete, do you know how to activate that protocol you used to wake us up with? Monster ear or something? dads fell asleep in his locked lab again. thanks, have a good day petey. love you x’

Peter lets out a chuckle when he reads the message. Trust his dad to forget to unlock the lab door. He starts to make his way over to where Shuri is holding their place in the line, typing back a reply to his pops.

“-and then glenn tried to make me take out her copies, like who does she think i am - oh, Pete there you are. I thought you got lost on your way over. Here meet my boss, Bucky, he knows all about yo - get off your phone it's rude” Shuri says, getting annoyed by his ignorance.

“Yeah, yeah. My pops is asking about commands again. I swear he never stops” he says, putting his phone into his back pocket and looking at Shuri. Peter was yet to look at the man in front of him, too busy giving Shuri a death glare.

“It's a pleasure to meet you Peter, Shuris told me a lot about you. She tells me almost daily about your latest mix up, I must say you have a lot.”

Peter freezes

Time stops

It's that voice, the voice he fell in love with. That deep and gruff voice with the right amount of softness on the edges. It's like music, the voice of angels.

He slowly turns his head to look at the man in front of him, watches as his eyes widen upon getting a full view of his face, realising washing over him.

Everything around them become background noise

The only people left in the cosy cafe are them, scrap that actually, the only people in the whole world are them.

They must be zoned out for a while because suddenly Shuris snapping her fingers in between them. Peter's cheeks flush a dark scarlet and he closes his mouth which must have fallen open.

“Peter, you have no idea how much I - fuck, Ive thought about this moment for so long, and I - god, I dont know what to say” Peters eyes snap back up to meet those eyes, those pools of steel blue. They haven't left his mind for years, haunted him around any corner he tried to turn.

Thats when he realised, he was in love with him. He loved James, he hasn't seen him for years, met him once before that, but fuck, he loved him.

“I-uh - I…”

“Daddy, whos this? His eyes look like mine. Isn’t that funny?” Olly comes over and stands next to his father, looking up at, well, his other father. Bucky looks down at Olly, then back up to Peter, then back down to Olly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, probably trying to figure out who this is, probably piecing it together slowly. Peter gulps and then looks down at Olly.

“Olly, I told you to stay with Auntie MJ. You know what happened last ti -” Peters cut off for what feels like the 50th time today.

“How old are you kid?” His voice is shaking

“Don’t answer that”

“Whos your other daddy?”

“Don't answer that either, go back to Aun-”

“Answer me, how old are you kid?”

Olly is slightly hiding behind Shuris leg, not quite sure what to do.

“You can’t just go around asking people you've slept with and then left alone to clean up the pieces with not even a contact number or note or anything’s kids how old they are, what is wrong with you?!”

Something flashes across Buckys face, regret and hurt, but they quickly go back to rage. Steel blue eyes turning into a stormy grey, like a storm at sea.

“I can if they may be my child!”

“That doesn't make it right!”

“For god's sake, stop being so difficult-”

“I’m being difficult? Do you hear yours-”

“I do funnily enough -”

They’re interrupted by a small voice

“Im almost eight…”

Both they’re heads snap round, looking at the source of the voice. There they see Olly holding up 8 fingers. Tears well up in James’ eyes, the final piece clicking into the jigsaw

“Hes my son..” Its barely above a whisper. Peter lets out a defeated sigh

“Yeah, he's your son”

Slowly James crouches down to Olly's level. Olly looks him over, analyses him as if he's trying to figure out what's inside this man. It's scary that Bucky has the exact same look on his face. Eyebrows furrowed, steel eyes cloudy. It makes Peter's heart let out small flutters.

“Hey there kiddo, Im, well im your papa.” Olly takes a second to process what's just been said before running into his papas arms. Tears are streaming down his face. Both their faces. Scrap that, tears are running down most of the people in the cafe’s faces.

“I've always wanted a papa, daddy always used to say that you went on a mission to space and that its taking a while. But he always said you’ll be back.”

“Did he now?” Bucky looks into his eyes and all is said in that look.

He was going to do whatever it takes to be a part of this family, to be with the man he loves and their son.

And Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

“Whats a bitch papa?”

Shuri cackles, an old lady gasps and Bucky's eyes widen comically

fuck.

#peter parker #winterspider #bucky barnes #tony stark #avengers #superfamily #steve rogers #marvel #stony #cute #shuri #papa #sad #sadbeautifultragic

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p---ink · 4 years

Text

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything. But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK!

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc.

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second.

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues.

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple.

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground.

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own.

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars.

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else.

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections.

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones. Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for?

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?”

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper.

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention.

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say.

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well.

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him?

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing.

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar.

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—”

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.”

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together.

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father��s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through.

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you.

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course.

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it, their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business.

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?”

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you.

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you.

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen.

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable.

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head.

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed.

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs.

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast.

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions.

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your cooking.

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger.

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms.

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles.

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves.

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly.

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.”

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off.

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle.

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground.

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy.

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots.

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks.

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy.

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it. You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning.

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay.

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on.

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you.

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before, used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper.

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more.

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered.

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke.

“Please let me cum Tony.”

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter.

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do.

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point.

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago.

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself.

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to.

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout.

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure.

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles.

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead, as Tony continued his case.

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back.

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.”

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it. “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet. Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue.

“Everything is going to be fine.” You assured, gazing up at him.

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car.

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled.

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal.

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them. As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much.

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted.

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.”

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you.

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could.

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking.

“Y/N, I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up.

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom.

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones.

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought.

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured.

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it.

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it.

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.”

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you.

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror.

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway.

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date.

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking.

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time.

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone, “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave.

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head.

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips.

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle.

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy.

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city.

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out.

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours.

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while.

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him.

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him.

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained.

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time.

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter.

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now.

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.”

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.” You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself.

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.”

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash.

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table.

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold.

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time.

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this?

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now.

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss.

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude.

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet.

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?”

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it. You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes.

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?”

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease.

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home.

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you.

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly.

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.”

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes.

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony.

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled.

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.”

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual.

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart.

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies. Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you.

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin.

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been.

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat.

A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To @swaggysposts @scarletsoldierrr I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think! PART 3 here

#tony stark smut #Tony stark angst #black reader #Marvel Smut #Tony Stark x reader

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loveisblindfanfictionbka · 4 years

Text

Love Is Blind: Chapter Twelve

Leandra turned to Melissa then jutted her chin towards Robyn’s living room. Robyn was asleep on the couch with Anesa cuddled up in her lap. Chris was asleep on the opposite end of the couch as the TV played in the background.

“How you wanna play this,” Leandra whispered to Melissa.

“I don’t know. It’s almost too cute to interrupt.”

“Maybe we should come back later.”

They went to walk out when they heard a voice, “Hey, I forgot you were coming over.”

Robyn yawned and stretched her arms above her head, “give me like 15 minutes.”

“No, don’t worry about it. You need your rest,” Melissa replied.

“You know if you ladies were trying to be quiet, it didn’t work.”

Robyn, Melissa, and Leandra all turned to see Chris sitting up on the couch.

“What you doing at my girl’s house, Christopher?” Leandra asked.

“Well my girl invited me over for the week and I accepted her invitation,” Chirs replied.

“Your girl?”

“Mine.”

“Oh, you really want the smoke, Christopher.”

Chris chuckled, “No but we’ll both have to learn to share.”

“I guess.

“I love how y’all are discussing me like I’m not even here,” Robyn interjected.

“Girl hush,” Leandra replied, “Christopher, this is supposed to be my weekend.”

“Well I didn’t know that. You gotta take that up with your girl, “ He replied.

Leandra turned back to Robyn, “He’s right. How you gonna invite your D over and completely forget about us?”

“He was technically supposed to be gone yesterday.”

“And clearly that didn’t happen.”

“I was finessed.”

Chris chuckled, “Oh you will not blame me for this. You wanted to let Anesa sleep, remember?”

“You hush,” Robyn replied as she motioned the closing of lips with her hands, “you are not helping.”

Robyn glanced down at Anesa to make sure she was still asleep, “Can y’all give me like 15 minutes to get cleaned up?”

“Sure. We’ll wait downstairs with your man and catch up, “ Melissa replied.

Robyn looked between Leandra, Melissa and Chris, “don’t y'all start, please. Chris, you wanna get Anesa?”

Chris got up and grabbed Anesa off Robyn’s lap then laid her on the couch with her head on a pillow once Robyn got up.

“She must sleep heavy to not have woken up yet,” Leandra remarked, “Maxwell sleeps like that.”

“Yea, once she’s asleep, she’s out for a while no matter the noise.”

Melissa and Leandra moved to the loveseat perpendicular to the couch Chris was sitting on.

“So Chris, what do you want with my girl? And be honest,” Melissa inquired.

“Whatever she wants to give me. You know like I know that I screwed up regardless of what the circumstances were. I’m not pushing for more than what she’s open to giving me.

“Do you love her?” Leandra asked.

“I do.”

“Are you in love with her”

“Absolutely.”

“Does she know that?”

“I’ve told her. She didn’t quite take it well but she knows.”

“Did she say it back?”

“No but I wasn’t expecting her to.”

“Ah. So how are you feeling about your relationship now?”

“We’re not in a relationship. We are taking it one day at a time and relearning each other. A lot has changed in seven years.”

“I see. You’re actually talking to us now.”

Chris chuckled, “I’m surprised you’re talking to me. I could’ve sworn you hated me.”

“I hated what you did. Not you. Big difference. Besides I figured you’d come to your senses one day and come back and get your wife.”

“Well, that remains to be seen. What you getting into today?”

“Shopping, lunch, and more shopping.”

“Girls weekend. Nice.”

“We need to have a dinner party. Properly welcome you back into the family.”

“I think that would be a bit much besides I don’t think Robyn would be into it. We’re supposed to take this slow.”

“You’re divorced. How much slower can you go?”

Melissa laughed as Leandra rolled her eyes, “Lele.”

“What? Leandra replied, “they keep talking like they just met. Ain’t so much change in seven years for y’all to be pretending like you’re total strangers. Both of y’all can miss me with it. I will be having a dinner party at my house next weekend. 7pm on Saturday. You and your daughter will be coming. Attire is casual since there will be children. Cool?”

“Do I really have a choice?” Chris asked.

“Nope. And if you ditch me, I will come find you.”

“Leandra, what are you doing?” Robyn said as she walked into the living room. Leandra stood up and brushed off her skirt, “Nothing. We were just getting caught up. Ready to go?”

“Yup. Chris, can you lock up for me?”

“You got it,” Chris replied as he moved to lay back down on the couch.

Melissa frowned as she looked between them, “wait a minute, he’s staying here?”

“Yes. And why are you looking at me like that?” Robyn replied.

“He has a key?”

“Yes. Why do you sound so shocked?”

“Oh, we gotta talk for real, Ms.Thing. Come on,” Melissa stood up and grabbed Robyn’s arm with one hand as she waved at Chris with the other, “I guess we’ll see you later. Bye Chris.”

“Bye Ladies.”

Chris shuffled so as not to hit Anesa’s body then settled back to sleep on the couch as Melissa, Leandra and Robyn left out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robyn held up a white knee length dress to her body then went to stand in the mirror. She twisted her head from side to side in contemplation before taking the garment along with the others she collected into an empty dressing room. She had just undressed down to her undergarments when she heard heels clicking against the wooden floor of the dressing room. She looked down at the feet and recognized the shoes, “I thought you guys were still looking.”

“We got our stuff waiting at the register but we need to talk, Ms. Robyn,” Melissa replied.

“Now?”

“Yes now. You’re naked so we know you’re not gonna run out of here. What’s going on with you and Chris?”

“I’m pretty sure he told you already.”

“Well we want to hear it from you. He said nothing about having a key to your house.”

Robyn sighed as she pulled on the mini skirt and top before walking out to the mirror of the dressing room lobby, “He wanted to give me a surprise a couple weeks ago and I let him have the spare key to my house to set it up. I just never took the key back.”

“And the big question is why not?” Leandra interjected.

“So he could come over when he wants. I like the company. What do you think?”

“I like the skirt. Lose that top. You like his company but y’all aren’t in a relationship?”

“No. I was serious when I said I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I told him just like I told y’all.”

Robyn went back into the dressing room. Setting the skirt into a “to-buy” pile, she put the top back on a hanger and placed it on a hook behind the dressing room door, “We’re exes and it's complicated enough.”

“But it really doesn’t have to be,” Melissa stated, “you two could really have a second chance.”

“That’s assuming I want one. I just want to enjoy him for who he is now. I don’t have a need to go backwards.”

“Newsflash, you already have. You’ve given him free roaming in your life, your heart is bound to be next.”

“My heart is locked down. Nothing he says or does is gonna change that.”

“Not even him saying he’s still in love with you.”

“He told you about that?”

“Yes. He also said how you weren’t too fond of him saying it.”

“Which is true. That’s not what this is supposed to be.”

“So what exactly is the end goal?”

Robyn pulled on a black fitted dress that stopped at her calves but had a long slit up her left side then walked out to the mirrors again, “I don’t have an end goal. Whenever it's time for us to move on, we will. Love isn’t a part of the equation for me.”

“Will you hold the past against him forever?”

“I’m not holding it against him or else we wouldn’t even be talking. I just don’t feel like I have to define my emotions right now. I’ve always had love for Chris even when he left me and I can admit he’s always had a piece of my heart but I’m not in the space to risk it right now. I just want to enjoy our time, if it’s supposed to be something more, it’ll happen.”

“Robyn, you can’t wait for fate to intervene. It took seven years to get to this point, who knows how long it’s gonna take for everything else.”

“If I die tomorrow, I’ll die a happy woman. I have no regrets on how I am handling this. If Chris has an issue, we’ll discuss it until then I’m fine with the way things are going. What do you think?”

“I love it. You gotta wear it to my dinner party next weekend,” Leandra replied.

“Since when do you give dinner parties?”

“Since I told your Christopher that he’s being reintroduced to the family and he has to come.”

“And he said yes?”

“She didn’t give his ass a choice,” Melissa interjected.

Robyn laughed, “I thought I told y’all not to start with him.”

“I didn’t start anything. He’s coming and so are you and you’re wearing that dress. Maybe I’ll finally get a niece or nephew out of you two.”

“We aren’t having sex.”

“But y’all have before?”

“No. Why do you keep thinking that?”

“Your whole aura is different. If it wasn’t intercourse, something happened.”

“Leandra, I’m just happy. Can I just be happy?”

“Sure you can but you’re too happy to be happy without dick. So…”

“I am not doing this with you,” Robyn said with a laugh as she went back into the dressing room, “I should be ready to go in about ten minutes.”

“Ok.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Daddy, where are we going?” Anesa asked as Chris strapped her into her carseat. Chris tightened the belt straps that went across her chest then closed the door before going to climb into the driver’s seat.

“Well we’re going to pick up Ms. Robyn then we’re going to a party.”

“Oooh, will there be other kids?”

“Yes, you can make some new friends.”

“That’s awesome. Who’s throwing the party, Daddy?”

“You remember how I told you about Ms. Robyn being my ex-wife?”

“Yes.”

“Well some of our old friends wanted to have a dinner party since we’re all friends again.”

“Cool. Daddy, can I ask you something?”

“Sure you can, Love Bug.”

“I heard you tell Ms. Robyn that you love her. Is she gonna be my new mommy?”

“Well no. Ms. Robyn and I do love each other as friends but we are not in a relationship.”

“Oh ok.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well you were already married to her before, I don’t see why you can’t get married again.”

“Things aren’t that simple.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve been on this new mommy kick for a while. You getting tired of your old man?”

“No Daddy, but it seems like Ms. Robyn makes you happy.”

“She does. She’s a really good friend. Do you like her?”

“I do.”

“That’s good.”

“So can you work on making her my new mommy?”

Chris chuckled, “I am not making any promises, Anesa.”

“Holy Shiii-” Chris murmured to himself as he watched Robyn walk out of her front door. He was leaning against the passenger side of the car once Robyn texted him that she was on her way outside. She carefully made her way down the stairs in a pair of black stilettos and a black fitted dress with a slit up the side.

“Hi Christopher,” Robyn said with a smile as she got closer to the car.

“Hey. You look gorgeous. I feel underdressed.”

Robyn chuckled, “You look good. I like that shirt.”

“Thanks. You bought it.”

“That is not the silk shirt I bought years ago?”

“It is. I saw no reason to get rid of it. It’s a nice shirt.”

“Considering what I spent on it, I’m glad it lasted this long.”

Chris laughed, “you ready to go?”

“Yea. By the way, I’m sorry about Lele kind of holding your feet to the fire and making you attend this.”

“I was more concerned about what you thought about it than I was about her pushing me to attend. I know how you feel about things being taken for more than what they are.”

“I was concerned that you would be uncomfortable.”

“What? Never that. I got my two girls with me, I can handle anything.”

Robyn smiled and brushed a few loose curls behind her ear, “you always had a way with words.”

“Just for you. Is there anything you need me to carry?”

“No, I’m good. We can leave.”

Chris moved to open the passenger door and held her hand as Robyn carefully climbed into the car. He leaned over to buckle her seatbelt for her but hesitated as he realized how close their faces were to each other.

Robyn giggled, “if you wanna kiss me, you should just do it.”

“Later. Anesa’s hawk watching me right now.”

Robyn nodded as she quickly swiped her hand down his arm, “we should get going then. Parking close to Leandra’s house is gonna be a nightmare if everyone she invited shows up.”

“Ah yea. Let’s go then.”

Robyn couldn’t help but to watch Chris as he drove towards Leandra’s house. Once she gave him Leandra’s address and he immediately knew where to go, it dawned on her how long they had been in the same state and the same city and never once encountered each other. That led to another thought, that maybe they had seen each other or crossed each other’s paths but were so wrapped up in the denial of the possibility that they didn’t pay attention.

“Have you come this way often?” she asked.

“Yea, a few of my colleagues live out this way. In fact, I was gonna buy a house out here until I remembered how many of them live over here. Really don’t want to be that close to people I work with.”

Robyn chuckled, “That I can understand.”

“Do you come to see Lele out here or does she usually come by your house?”

“The latter. She works in the city so we usually catch lunch together or if she wants to go out, she’ll just leave clothes at my house and stop by instead of going home. Mel too.”

“Mel doesn’t seem to be around as much.”

“Her studio is in the city but she lives in Jersey so other than weekends, her time isn’t as free as mine is. I mean Lele comes around sporadically too since she has Maxwell to take care of even though his dad is at her house so much it’s almost like they live together again.”

“Are they together?”

“She says not really, I say she’s lying.”

Chris laughed.

“He takes her on vacation for every holiday or school holiday. He’s at her house 24/7 and I know he’s not sleeping on the couch. Leandra is just stubborn and likes to do things on her time.

“Sounds like her. How old is her son?”

“Max is 5. He’s the cutest little thing though. Very sweet and quiet.”

“He takes after his dad?”

“Absolutely.”

Chris laughed, “I can’t wait to meet him.”

“I think he’ll love you.”

Chris gently patted her thigh and Robyn placed her hand on top of his hand to hold it there. Chris glanced over at her then chuckled as he returned his eyes to the road, “you’re trying to get me in trouble.”

“You know Leandra thinks we consummated our relationship, right?”

“Really? Why?”

“She says I’m too happy to not have had, well you know.”

Chris laughed out loud, “We’ll never live down that one night they caught us back in college, huh?”

“Nope. Now they think we can’t handle being around each other without doing it.”

“They’re not all the way wrong though.”

“”I can handle it. You, on the other hand-”

“I am not denying anything.”

Chris came to a stop at a bit of traffic surrounding a construction sight. He looked at Robyn as she turned in her seat to look at him, “regardless of how this party goes, you gonna save me a dance?”

“I’ll do you one better.”

“Really?”

“I’ll save you every dance.”

“I could get very spoiled, you know.”

“I know.”

Chris smiled as he took a sip of his beer then sat down in a lounge chair. Robyn was swaying directly in his line of vision as she stood with her friends. She looked over at him and winked before turning her attention back to her friends. Chris looked around and spotted Anesa playing with Maxwell and some other children.

“So...when are you gonna let him take you down?” Melissa asked as her and Robyn were left alone. Robyn turned to her and giggled before taking a sip of her drink, “what is y’all obsession with me and him having sex?”

“It’s not an obsession but that man has been undressing you with his eyes all evening. Something is bound to happen.”

“He always does that.”

“My exact point.”

“I am not planning on anything happening but if it happens, it is what it is.”

“That dress got you acting up.”

“It does not. It did make him speechless when he came to pick me up though.”

“I’m surprised y’all rode together, you made it seem like you were gonna meet him here.”

“Originally I was but he asked if it was ok for him to pick me up so I said yea.”

“Y’all looked really cute coming in like a little family and all.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying, it was really cute.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t get all pissy, it’s not that-” Melissa’s voice trailed off just as Robyn felt somebody press up behind her.”

“Yes Christopher,” Robyn said without turning around.

“How’d you know it was me?” Chris replied as he moved into her line of sight.

“Nobody else is stupid enough to walk up on me like that. So what’s up?”

“You owe me a dance, Ms. Fenty.”

“I don’t like this song.”

“Never said this was the song we were gonna dance to.”

Melissa snickered and Robyn cut her eyes at her, “if you aren’t gonna help, you can go, Ms. Melissa.”

“Chris, please hurry up and bend her over, she’s way too tense.”

Chris laughed as Melissa walked off and Robyn’s mouth dropped open. She turned to Chris and punched his shoulder, “it is not that funny.”

“Pardon me if I don’t agree.”

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“I’m sure she’s said something similar before now.”

“You hush.”

Chris chuckled, “but back to what I came over here for. My dance.”

“Are you gonna get them to change the-” Robyn was cut off as the music changed and she realized what song it was, “our song. You really think you’re slick.”

“I only listen to this song with you. My dance, please.”

Chris held out his hand and Robyn placed her hand in his. Rome’s I Belong To You blasted through the speakers as Chris led her to the makeshift dance floor on the back deck. As Chris gently pulled her into his arms, Robyn looked over to see Leandra and Melissa settled up beside the DJ. Leandra gave her a thumbs up and Robyn stuck her tongue out at her before turning her attention to Chris. They began to move slowly as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Christopher?”

“Making sure you have a good time.”

“You thought I wasn’t?”

“No but I just wanted to make sure I was included in that good time.”

“Ah, so this is about ego.”

“No, this is about you and me having a good time together. You will not start an argument with me, Robyn.”

“That is not my intention.”

“Hmm...sure. How was your day?”

“Why are you asking me this now?”

“Because I don’t want to let you go and the song is about to end.”

Robyn blushed and Chris pressed his cheek against hers to whisper in her ear, “you know it’s ok to like me.”

“You wouldn’t be here with me if I didn’t.”

“Technically you came here with me.”

“Because I agreed to you asking me, therefore, it was my choice and therefore, you are here with me.”

“I concede.”

“Thank you. So are we gonna slow dance all night?”

“If I said yes, would that bother you?”

Robyn leaned back just as she brushed one of her hands over his face, “I welcome the option.” She cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him as the party erupted into cheers.

#chrianna #loveisblindfanfiction

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theatrelove3000 · 4 years

Text

Ask Me Again

Alright. This one takes a bit of explaining. I have this headcannon that in Asgard, if you are engaged and don’t get married in under a year or so, you have to propose again. I know that’s not a thing but roll with it, okay?

This was originally 2 parts when I wrote it but its faster to read all at once. It is a lot though; this one kind of got away from me... 7,151 words. Oops.

Background: Noelle and Loki were “Bound” by a witch in Alfheim after a battle they fought in. This means that the witch split each of their souls in half and one half switched places. Noelle has half of Loki’s soul and vise versa. They can feel each others emotions and hear each others thoughts.

Summary: Loki returns from a mission with serious injuries, which prompts him to ask Noelle a question and surprise her with a fairytale dream.

Warnings: Implied smut, slight issues with a father (I don’t like the term “daddy issues”), fighting kind of, more fluff than should be possible but I accomplished somehow, swearing I think? I did base a part of this on scenes from Criminal Minds and How I Met Your Mother. There is also a crossover in characters from Scrubs because I love Dr. Cox.

Ask Me Again

Noelle PoV:

"Are you ever going to take that off?"

"Fuck off, Stark. Let me wear my cape in peace!" I say as I walk into the kitchen, said cape flowing around me.

Loki is laughing at the exchange. Of course he is.

He is the one that bought the cape.

It is black with a velvet collar and intricate beading accents in the lapels and down the middle of the back. The inside is lined with silver satin. The Phantom of the Opera's cape.

Each Avenger has a floor that could easily be called a penthouse. Loki and I each had our own since we tried to keep our relationship a secret when we first joined the Avengers, but the second that Bucky started flirting with me, that plan ended. We have lived together ever since and Tony turned Loki's floor into a movie theater.

"Why are you even here Tony? Don't you have somewhere else to be? Something to blow up?" I ask him through the pass through in the kitchen.

"It already blew up. I was kicked out of the lab by Bruce. I got bored in the lounge so I figured I'd hang here."

"Why did you believe yourself welcome?" Loki asks him, sounding annoyed, from his corner.

"I could think of many reasons but I'm going to just ignore that question because it will be answered in about..." he looks at his watch, "16 seconds. Got any food in there, Lady Darkness?"

"Not any that I'm willing to share, Iron Man."

The elevator dings and out steps the reason Tony Stark made himself welcome in my house.

"Hi, Auntie Elle! Mr. Loki, I came to see if you had the ice cream Mr. Stark told me I couldn't have anymo-" he stops as he turns the corner, his eyes finding Tony sitting on the couch.

"Hello, Pete."

Peter squeaks.

"What did I tell you about using Reindeer Games' mischievous temperament and amusement in disobeying me?"

"That if I'm going to be sneaky, to use Mr. Bucky."

"Hey!" Loki looks put out.

"Exactly! It's too obvious if you use Rock of Ages. He is the most likely to help you keep things from me."

"I don't agree."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I just really like coffee ice cream floats made with red bull instead of root beer and Auntie Elle has both!"

"I don't have redbull!"

"Bottom shelf, love."

"Holy shit, where did all this come from?"

I hear Tony stand up from the couch and walk towards Peter. Loki is suddenly behind me with a hand on my lower back. I turn around as Tony hands Peter a small paper bag. Peter opens it and peers inside with a look of shock before taking out a Starkbucks cup.

"I have changed the rule so you may have one caffeinated drink from Starkbucks a month. This is your one." Tony explains as Peter looks like he's about to cry. "You don't need to continue to sneak things behind my back. If you're gonna drink coffee, I'd rather you do it in the house than on the streets of New York." Pete wraps his arms around his mentor and thanks him excessively for a single drink.

"You would think he just gave him license to drink alcohol." I mutter to Loki, who snickers and wraps his arms around me.

I pull away from him and stand in the doorway. "As much as I love having this very interesting exchange occur in my living room, I have a headache. Get out!"

Loki chuckles and Peter walks toward the elevator while Tony mumbles about how he's being kicked off a floor of his own building.

They haven't even reached the elevator when the doors open and Cap comes running out.

"Loki and Tony. Suit up. You're with me on this one."

"I wanna go!" Peter says loudly and all the adults say 'no' at the same time. He pouts and I wrap my arm around his shoulders, ushering him to the couch. Tony and Cap enter the elevator and Loki tells them he will meet them in the car.

I follow him to the bedroom. He is in a rush and is teleporting around the room because it's faster. I sit on the end of our bed and watch him pull on his armour. He pulls the breastplate over his head and starts to tug the leather straps together.

I know he is worried for me, I can see it. He's always worried when one of us leaves suddenly. Sometimes we wake up to someone knocking on our bedroom door, telling us it's time to go. Just part of the job.

I stand up and help him fasten the straps. He lets his hands run through my hair and slides to hold the back to my neck. I finish the clasps and he pulls me up to his lips, kissing me gently.

I pull away first, breathing heavily. "You have to go." I whisper, "We will be okay."

"I know. You always are."

"Be safe. Come home to me, yeah?"

"Always." And with that he leaves.

That's the last I hear from him or Tony or Steve in 6 days.

~~~~~~~~~~

*6:32 am*

The ringing of my phone cuts through my sleep like a knife. I groan and roll over to face Loki's side of the bed. Morgan was sleeping peacefully. I'm watching her while Tony is on the mission and Pepper had to make an emergency trip out of state.

I reach over to my bedside table and pick up my phone.

Steve.

"Hello?" I ask, voice groggy from sleep.

"Elle, you need to get to the hospital right now, please."

My heart stopped.

"Cap, what happened? Are you alright? Is Loki okay?"

"Noelle, take a breath. Everything will be fine. Just get here. We are at Lenox Hill."

The line goes dead.

I jump out of bed and rush to my dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans. I forget to be quiet and Morgan wakes up.

"Auntie Elle?"

"Sorry, honey. We gotta go on a little drive. Do you want to change or go in your jammies?" I tell her, turning on the light beside the bed.

"Where are we going?"

I pull on Loki's sweatshirt and help her out of bed. "To see daddy. Let me get your jacket, okay? That's it. Up we come. Where are your shoes?"

I get her ready to go and put her one of the cars Tony allows the Avengers to use. I drive the speed limit but only because I have little Morgan in the backseat. I text Tony and Steve when we get there and pick up Morgan.

We walk through the door and a nurse came to ask what the problem was. I told her I was here to see someone. Before I could answer who, Tony moves in and takes his daughter from my shaking arms.

"She's with us. Thank you, Nurse Carla." He winks at her.

Nurse Carla smiles at him and walks away.

Tony leads me through the halls, explaining the mission.

"We were sent Upstate to find the new Hydra basecamp. Everything was going smoothly, we had almost wrapped it up when three enhanced showed up in the field. One had similar powers to Wanda and paralyzed Cap and I, but she wasn't strong enough to get her hold around Loki. He engaged on his own and was able to incapacitate them but wasn't able to come out without any injuries. His wounds were extensive but are healing rapidly, probably due to the fact that he's basically a god. He has a cracked skull, 4 broken ribs, a fractured ulna, and a massive bruise on his right leg. He will be okay but he demanded that we call you before we went home. Something about not wanting Thor to freak out. Doctor Dorian say he will be out of here by noon at the rate his wounds are healing."

We have arrived at the room by now and stop in the doorway. There is a curtain shielding my view of Loki. I can see his boots from under it. Why the fuck is this dumbass sitting up?

He feels me. He's sitting up because he knows I'm here. He's reaching for me.

"Thanks." I mutter to Tony and walk in.

He is sitting up, waiting patiently with one hand on his thigh and the other in a sling. He has a few stitches in his forehead but the wound is healing nicely. His shirt is off and a bandage is wrapped around him over his right shoulder to under his left arm and down to the middle of his chest.

The second he sees me, he takes off the sling and throws it to the side. I don't even care right now, I know how fast he heals, but I'm more worried about getting my hands on him.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he buries his face in my neck, pulling me to stand between his legs.

"Hello, darling." He chuckles and I tighten my grip in a greeting.

I pull away from him to look him in the eyes, taking a small step back. I don't realize I'm crying until he brushes my tears away.

"Hey. Come now, love." His hand moves from my waist to the back of my neck and down my arm before taking my hand in his own. "No tears. It's alright, Noelle. I'm safe. It's all going to be fine." He brushes a lock of my hair behind my ear, letting his knuckles graze my cheek.

"Ask me again?" I say to him.

"What?" He mutters, looking taken aback.

"Ask me." I whisper.

His eyes light up in realization, his arm slips around my waist again. He pulls me flush against him.

"Noelle Elizabeth Tyrdottir, will you marry me?"

"Yes." I say. I hug him again and release the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"About damn time!" He exclaims, making me laugh a little.

"There's a chapel here. Let's do it now, let's get it over with."

"Oh, gods no. I'm not dressed properly."

"I think you look damn good but alright, fine. Monday then. Put it in your calendar 'cause we have a date at the courthouse."

He laughs, and kisses my forehead.

"Will you please lay back now? You're making me worry."

"I'm fine, love. Really. I just ache and have a few bruises. It will be fine."

"Yet, when I come back with a black eye and wrapped ankle, you demand that I stay in bed for 3 days. Lay down."

He grumbles under his breath about how that’s different because I am only half Asgardian. I am more mortal than he is.

"Mr. Odinson, I need you to lay back please. Does your shoulder still ache?" A doctor with crazy brown hair comes in, "Oh, hello. I'm Doctor Dorian. You must be the wife?"

"Not yet, she's not." Loki mutters under his breath as he slides back onto the bed. I go flick his ear but he catches my hand and pulls it to his mouth, kissing my wrist.

"I see. Well as long as you are family you can stay. I assume you are an Avenger as well? I have seen you before but I'm not sure where. I have also seen what this guy can do and I hear he packs quite a swing. And also daggers. You don't have daggers on you, do you?" Loki smirks,

"I don't really want to break you two up but..." Dr. Dorian is rambling and trails off as Loki wraps his good arm around me and pulls me to sit next to him on the bed.

"You could try to take her from me. See what happens if you do."

"You're being difficult." I tell him.

"I'm just proving a point."

"You need to relax. I'm not going anywhere."

"Damn right you aren't." He mumbles as Dr. Dorian picks up the sling that Loki flung across the room. I hold my hand out to take it since he looks nervous to come too close to Loki. He hands it to me as his pager goes off.

"I'll come back after I take care of this. Please don't strain yourself by doing something reckless." And he runs out.

I look at Loki, who is trying to hide a smile and is staring at the ceiling like there's something very interesting up there. He looks at me when I sit up and straddle him.

I pull the sling over his head and help slip his arm into it. He holds his other hand on my hip, keeping me in my place. He lowers his head to rest on my chest. I lean my head on top of his, breathing him in. We stay like this until we hear Dr. Dorian coming back. I quickly get off Loki and settle under his arm as Dr. Dorian comes through the curtain with a pretty blonde woman following him.

"Mr. Odinson, we need one more x-ray just to see if everything is healing correctly. If so, you're free to go! Fastest broken bone patient I've ever had. Oh, this is Dr. Reed, my colleague. She didn't believe that I had a patient who healed from injuries as major as yours in a mere few hours." He turns to her as Dr. Reed reads through Loki's chart. "So, Elliot. Pay up."

"I hate you so much right now." She says as she forks over twenty bucks.

"Thaaaank you!" He waves it around for a moment before shoving it in his pocket.

"Alright, Shirley and Barbie. Out. Leave this one alone. We do not bet on patients in front of them, it's not how we do things." A tall doctor with curly, light brown hair struts in with an ear-piercing whistle. "We wait till we are in the break room."

Loki starts laughing, catching everyone's attention. "I like him!" He says to me.

I roll my eyes and lean my head back on the pillows behind me.

"Also, I can't exactly have you on the bed with him. Normally I wouldn't care but I have people from the hospital board in to watch me today. My name is Doctor Cox, I'm the head doctor and I get to be in charge of these brainiacs behind me with their mouths hanging open." Dr. Dorian and Dr. Reed both shut their mouths simultaneously.

"I would love to get off the bed, Dr. Cox, but I'm kinda stuck. He isn't about to let me go and if I try, I'm afraid I'll make his wounds worse."

"Want me to sedate him so you can make your escape?" I laugh and Loki scowls.

"He's not of this Realm. Almost any medication you give him will burn off really quickly. I could teleport but that will just make him get up to drag me back."

"Hmm. Well I have to take him for an x-ray and you're not allowed to go with him so I'll let you talk amongst yourselves for a minute then I am," another loud whistle and a gesture to the door with his thumbs, "takin' him." He shepherds the other two out of the room and shuts the door behind him.

I look at Loki. "You gotta let me go. The x-ray barely takes ten minutes and Dr. Dorian said you can come home after. I will wait but you have to go without me."

"This is a terrible plan. I do not have to do anything these mortals tell me to do! I am a-"

"I swear to Odin, Loki, if you say that you are a god I will jab you in the ribs."

His eyes narrow, but he complies. "I don't see why you cannot accompany me."

"Because X-rays are taken with radiation so it would potentially affect me but you need one. Just go get it taken and I'll be waiting for you."

He sighs, "Fine. If you are not here, I will come looking for you, leaving a trail of bodies behind me."

I snort. "Of course you will. Please don't get Tony sued."

He chuckles and kisses my temple. At that moment, Dr. Cox comes back and takes Loki off in a wheelchair, even though he whines and complains about being able to walk the whole time. It takes Dr. Cox and myself ten minutes to get him to shut up and sit down but once he does, it only takes fifteen minutes for them to bring him back. Dr. Cox cleared him to go but commanded that he take it easy for a few days. I help him into his shirt, and we leave.

When we get back to the tower, Morgan attacks his legs and asks if he would watch Frozen with her again. He sighs as though it's somehow an inconvenience but agrees.

"But first, little Stark, I must go speak with your father. He has requested my presence and I'm not one to deny it to him." He smirks.

I roll my eyes and peel her off Loki's legs. "Come on, Baby Stark. We will get the movie ready and wait for Uncle Loki to get back from tormenting your daddy."

"Torment? Noelle, darling, do you think so little of me?"

"I do when you're in this mood."

"What mood?" He asks, eyes glinting with mischief.

"You know what I'm talking about. Go play with Tony, I will take this little monster and we will wait to watch the movie. I know how much you love it."

He rolls his eyes and walks off towards Tony's office. When he comes back, they watch Frozen and then colour in her new colouring book while I take down Christmas decorations.

Around dinner time, Peter arrives with pizza and Loki just attacks it.

"Thank the Norns you bought more than one." I whisper to him as we watch Loki finish the first one on his own. I whack his hand as he reaches for a piece of mine and Morgan's pizza. He glares at me and takes some of Peter's.

At about 5:15, Nat comes marching in, "Okay! Odinson and Tyrdottir, get out! Go to your apartment and don't come out. I assume you have the necessities for surviving through the night?"

Loki's eyes light up and he jumps up, grabs my hand, and pretty much runs to the elevator.

We stay in our room the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up to something tickling my ear. I wave at it to make it stop but it soon returns. I slowly realize as I grow more conscious that the tickling is my fiancè's lips moving down my ear, jaw, and neck. I lean back into him as he kisses my cheek.

"Good morning, love." He says, voice thick with sleep. Norns, I love that voice.

"Good morning." I whisper back and turn over to face him. I slide my arms around his neck and lean my forehead against his. He kisses my head, then my nose, then my lips. His movements are slow, probably because he just woke up and hasn't had any coffee.

"You had to think of coffee." He sighs as his right arm, which was around my waist, flops back. The right one had the fractured ulna but the X-ray said it was healed almost completely. It still aches but not much.

"You had to say it out loud? Now I need some." I counter and he smiles a little. I rest my head on my hand that's propped up by my elbow and look down at him. They took the stitches out before we left but he still has a small mark from where the cut was. I press my lips to the wound and he closes his eyes. I kiss down to his cheekbones and whisper in his ear, "You know what goes good with coffee?"

"Hmm?"

"Donuts." His eyes snap open. He stands up as fast as his injuries would allow and starts putting clothes on. I laugh and pick up his discarded shirt from the floor. Slipping it over my head, I grab a pair of leggings then tie the shirt up around my belly button.

Loki drags me out of the tower the second I finish tying my shoes. We walk to the donut shop just down the street hand in hand. He told me about the mission, I talked about what I did while he was gone. Basically we just catch up.

While we sit in the shop, eating our delectably decadent donuts, my phone buzzes. It's Tony.

"What is it?" Loki asks as he takes another bite.

"It's Tony. He wants to know if we are free later. He's having a little dinner party at the tower."

"I haven't got any plans. Do you?"

"You are supposed to be taking it easy."

"Look, I'm fine!" He raises his arms above his head to prove his point. "I beg of you, my angel, Noelle. Do not keep me cooped up all day."

He's so dramatic. "I guess if you're feeling better, we can go for a little while."

"Lovely." He smiles at me and pops a donut hole in his mouth.

I text Tony to tell him we will be there. The second I hit send, I start to think about it. "Wait a minute. Loki, you hate parties. Why the sudden urge to go?"

His face turns to stone and I can't read his emotions. Great. "Perhaps I just want to eat all of the Man of Iron's food. And to play with the little ones. I do like children, Noelle."

"You're avoiding the question." Then it hits me, "Does this have something to do with what you and Stark talked about yesterday?"

"I haven't a clue what you are talking about."

"Don't lie to me, I can always tell. You may be the God of Mischief and Lies but I know you better than the one who gave you that title."

"I gave myself part of that title."

"My point exactly." I pause, looking into his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"

He sighs, looking at his food, then back at me. "Trust that it's a good thing and there is nothing to worry about. You will understand in time." His eyes are pleading. I believe him.

"Okay."

"Thank you."

"What time are we to be there?"

"Ask Stark, it is his party."

I laugh and text Tony as Loki stands up, holding my jacket out to me so I can slide my arms in. We walk back to the tower.

*5:45 pm*

"Alright, I'm ready. Are you good, Loki?"

"Yes." He comes around the corner and I see him in the mirror. He's in a green button up with black dress pants. No tie, jacket over his arm. "You look divine, darling." He takes three long strides and is behind me, hands on my hips.

"Thank you. It isn't too fancy is it?" I glance down at my purple dress. It is made of satin and has silver embellishments at the hem, stopping just above my knee.

"It's lovely. Let's go." He takes my hand and practically drags me out the door.

The elevator doors open as we reach Tony and Pepper's private duplex apartment. It is decorated with fairy lights across the ceiling and the balcony. There are tables decorated with white cloth and light purple flowers in pale green box vases. The white chairs have gold bows on the backs. Pep and Tony approach us as we walk in.

"Damn, Pep. You really know how to throw a party!"

"Well, when you work for this lunatic for 15 years, you tend to learn how to be a good event planner."

"I'd be offended but she would be correct." Tony drapes his arm around her shoulders and kisses her cheek. He then turns to Loki with a pointed look, "She is always right."

I laugh and Pepper smacks Tony's arm.

"Hey, gorgeous. You ready?" Nat struts over to me in her form-fitting black dress and red stilettos. She has a garment bag hanging over her shoulder. I cock an eyebrow at her and turn to Loki, who is crouching down to talk to Morgan.

"Ready for what?"

"I heard a little whisper about a courthouse wedding and I am not having that." Tony is grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm sorry, run that by me again? Are you telling me that this is my wedding?"

"And this is your wedding dress, now let's go!" Nat starts pulling my hand and Pep loops her arm through mine. I look back at Loki who is smirking at me. I suddenly get giddy and pretty much run up the stairs to Pepper and Tony's bedroom where the ladies help me get into the dress and work on my hair.

Loki clearly had a hand in the dress pick. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he made it while in Tony's office yesterday. It's almost a Midgardian take on an Asgardian wedding dress. It has a lace bodice, v-neck with thin beaded straps on my shoulders and flowy fabric off the shoulder. The rest of the skirt is flowy and light and reminds me of my dresses on Asgard.

Pepper hands me a black box tied with green and gold ribbon. Loki's name is in gold lettering in the corner. I cock an eyebrow at them- both women having a huge grin on their faces- and open the box. Nestled into the green silk is a gold circlet tiara with Asgardian crystal encrusted leaves and emerald droplets. I start to tear up, realizing what he is giving me. He's making me his queen.

Pepper curls my hair, pinning parts of it up and settles the crown into the curls. They decide that my makeup is good enough as it was from when I did it for the party and they announce that I'm ready.

We walk down the stairs and all the Avengers are there, quite the accomplishment actually. Loki stands next to Bucky at the front of the room, Thor standing just behind him looking like he's about to burst into tears. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I see Tony waiting for me.

He smiles at me, offering me his arm. "How you feeling, hot stuff?

"Honestly, way more than I thought I would. I'm a little bit overwhelmed." I joke and take his arm.

He laughs and walks me down to Loki, who is just grinning like an idiot. Wanda stands on the other side of him. I reach him and Tony kisses my cheek before going to sit with his wife and daughter. Loki pulls my hands into his own. Bucky starts talking.

"Thank you all for coming. For those of you that don't know me," We all look at him, Loki snickers, "I'm not the biggest believer in real happy endings. But this isn't a therapy session. And you two are so great together, ya know?" He makes a noise and I glance at him. His eyes are slightly watery. He clears his throat and continues. "It's like you were..." he sniffs, "made for each other."

"He's gonna cry." Wanda says with a smile.

"No, I'm not!" Buck automatically answers. Then from the back of the room, Steve starts playing his guitar. "I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not!"

I grin at Loki. This is perfect. Bucky clears his throat again, "Noelle and Loki, when everyone sees you, they see true love." He pauses, "it's the best love." He rattles out, voice cracking. "Can we just, um, the rings or something?" He's trying not to cry. I want to hug my best friend, my best man, right there, the big baby.

Thor and Nat get out the rings and we take them from them. I look at Loki's ring. It's a black band with purple patterns carved in. "I don't know what to say." I whisper to him.

"All my thoughts are all jumbled, I'm not sure what to say either." He mutters back.

"You don't need vows, brother. Just say why you love each other!" Thor suggests.

"I'll go first." He takes my left hand in his, sliding the ring on. I take a moment to admire it. It is gold but doesn't connect like a normal ring. Instead it has two green emeralds on the ends. It looks like it's a vine wrapping around my finger. I start to get a little bit teary. "Noelle, darling. There are a million reasons why I love you. You make me laugh, you take care of me when I fall ill. You're sweet and caring and you make me pastries the way my mother used to when I was upset." I breathe out a laugh, "But the main reason I love you, Noelle, is you brighten my life, which was at one time a never ending black hole. You saved me, and most of all, you love me." I'm beaming at his words. His eyes are misty from the raw emotion he feels. He never thought he would get this moment.

"My turn." I say as I slip his ring on his own hand, "Loki, I love you because you're funny and you make me feel loved. You make me feel safe. You bought me a necklace for my first ball that has protected me ever since." I raise my hand to touch the necklace; I never take it off. "But the real reason I love you, Loki Odinson, is you make me happy. You make me more happy than you could possibly imagine."

My lover grins widely, letting a tear fall from his eye. I reach up to brush it away.

"LokidoyoutakeNoelletobeyourwifetohaveandtoholdfromthisdayforward-"

"Slow down, Buck."

"I can't! Foraslongasyoubothshalllive?"

"I do." I didn't know it was possible for my love to grow with just two simple words.

"NoelledoyoutskeLokitohaveandtoholdfromthisdayforwardforaslongasyoubothshalllive?"

"I do."

"Okay then!" He clears his throat one more time, "By the power vested in me by the very bitter, old man who works at the courthouse on Schermerhorn street, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

I snake my arms around his neck immediately and pull him down to me. He smirks against my lips and pulls me deeper, closer to him. There is applause around us but we don't stop for them. We stand there and kiss for a while before Tony says something that makes me laugh. I break away from him and keep one hand on his cheek as I pull Tony in to hug me. We hug everyone there (well, I do. Loki shakes hands and picks up Morgan so they can't hug him full on.)

Tony claps Loki on the back and asks Loki if he can hold onto Morgan for a bit while he goes to check on the caterers. Loki nods to him as Thor hands me a green bag with purple tissue paper. When we look inside, it's a bottle of Asgardian wine. I look at him for a moment before hugging him tightly, thanking him.

"Who wrapped this for you, Brother?" Loki asks him, patting his shoulder and pulling me away from him, an arm around my waist.

"Is it so hard to believe that I am skilled at making gifts look presentable?"

"A bit, yes."

Thor scowls and points to Morgan, who is still up in Loki's arms. She seems happy there. It's my favorite place to be so I completely understand.

"Look at you, gorgeous! You look just like your momma." I turn around to see James, my mom's boyfriend before she passed. I immediately jump into his arms and he laughs, stumbling back slightly. "You didn't think I would miss this did you? I'd never miss an event like this."

"Truth be told, James, I wasn't aware this was an event."

He laughs and lets me go to look at my face, "I was told not to say anything." He glances back at Loki.

I turn around too and glare at my husband teasingly. He smirks at me and turns his attention back to the child in his arms.

James leans down a little to whisper in my ear, "Is she yours?"

I smile, "No. She is Tony and Pepper's daughter. We are just her favorite Aunt and Uncle. Isn't that right, Morgan?" I squeeze her leg lovingly and she just nods. She's fascinated by the magic that Loki is doing for her.

"I see. Look, doll. You know I love you but I have to go. I'm really sorry, but I couldn't completely clear my schedule tonight."

"It's totally fine! The fact that you came at all means so much to me. Thank you, James." I hug him again. He holds on just as tight.

"I meant what I said, you know. You really do look just like her." And with that parting whisper, he shakes Loki's hand.

As I watch the man who loved my mother the way she deserved leave, I am struck by a brief moment of sadness. I wish she was here. Loki kisses my temple and whispers in my mind, 'She is here. They both are.' I nod and dab lightly at the tears that filled my eyes.

After around 20 more minutes of socializing with my family, Peter comes running up to me.

"Hey, Auntie Elle! There's a guy in the hallway. Mr. Bucky and Captain Rogers won't let him in but told me to come get you." I look back at Loki who looks as confused as I feel. He hands Morgan over to Pete and laces his fingers through mine.

We meet Buck and Steve in the doorway, who are standing there, shoulder to shoulder, looking menacingly at the man in the hall. I understand why the moment I see him.

"Tyr?"

"Hello, daughter."

There is a silence for a moment. Loki automatically goes into his protective defense mode and angles his body so I am slightly behind him as he moves to stand beside Bucky.

"What... why... how- how did you get here? How did you find out where I was?" I'm stumbling over my words in my shock. Why was my father here? I walk out of the door and into the hallway, Loki right behind me with Bucky and Steve flanking us. Loki tells Steve to close the doors.

"I am your father, child, you could not keep your marriage to a Prince from me."

My anger flares up. "So if I were to marry a Midgardian, you wouldn't be here? You're only here because I chose to marry the former Prince of Asgard?" Loki puts his other hand on my waist. 'We don't want to ruin that pretty dress, do we, love?' He whispers in my head.

"That is not what I meant."

"I know exactly what you meant."

"Daughter, listen to me-"

"Make me!"

"Darling-" Loki starts but I interrupt him.

"You don't give a shit about me, and you never have. Just go! I don't want you here."

"Daughter-"

"You can't even say my fucking name, Tyr. Say it! What is my name?"

"I know your name, child-"

"Then say it."

He looks at me for a moment, as though seeing if I'm being serious. "Noelle. You need to take a breath." He says.

I stare at him, the sound of my name falling from his mouth angering me. Loki immediately has me around the waist and behind Steve and Bucky.

"Look, Mister. I don't know who you are, and I don't care. You are distressing my best friend on her wedding day so I suggest you walk away before I throw you out the window." Bucky's tone is calm, conversational, but his words are aggressive.

"You stay out of this, boy. This is between my daughter and I."

"You mess with her, you face all of us." I hear from the other end of the corridor. The slightly robotic voice tells me that Tony heard my yelling and got in his suit to take care of it. "And I should warn you, hot shot. There's a lot of fire power behind that door." He raises his hand and his repulsors charge up.

My father raises his hands in defeat and disappears from where he stands. I automatically release a deep, shaky breath. Loki wraps his arms around me and rests his head on top of mine. I reach one hand out to Bucky, Steve, and Tony. "Thank you." I whisper.

Buck squeezes my hand and Steve strokes my hair once.

"Take a deep breath, Elle. Come back in so we can eat soon. It's still your party." Tony says to me and the three of them go back inside.

"Are you alright?" His voice is full of concern.

"I'm alright." I answer. I pull away to look at him and smile, raising my hand to cup his cheek. He leans into the contact and kisses my wrist, right above my tattoo of his symbol. "I love you, Loki."

"I love you, Angel." He pulls me into his chest again.

"Loki."

"Yes?"

"We are married."

I feel him grin, "Yes we are." He lifts me up and kisses me for a moment before putting me down again.

"Are you ready to go back in?" He asks. I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair a little before nodding.

We open the door and are met with applause. I grin and feel my cheeks heat up. Loki smiles and pulls me into a kiss, earning more cheers. He ends it first and sits me down at the table, sitting beside me. He intertwines our fingers and holds my hand under the table. After dinner, people start making speeches- Thor sobbing through his- and giving toasts.

Tony decides it's time to dance and, very graciously, plays a slow song for us first: For the Dancing and the Dreaming.

As Loki leads me to the makeshift dance floor, I ask him, "So, you're okay that I didn't change my last name?"

"Darling, believe me. I would change my name if I could."

"You can, Loki. That's a thing in Midgard. You can change your name. We should create a whole new last name!"

He smirks at me, "Loki and Noelle Allguardians."

"Loki and Noelle Skywalker."

"Loki and Noelle Fraser!"

"No, wait, I got it! Are you ready? It's pretty good, I don't know if you're prepared."

"Just tell me." He laughs.

"Loki and Noelle Friggason."

He pauses, thinking. I feel all the things he was feeling at that moment. He makes a decision.

"Loki and Noelle Friggason." He leans down to kiss me, which was met by whoops and cheers from our audience.

We pull back as the song ends and Tony, the silly man, turns on Criminal by Britney Spears. I start laughing hysterically and poor Loki just looks confused. Asgardian weddings are a calm, respectful affair the whole time. They don't have crazy receptions that play YMCA or do the stupid, creepy garter thing.

He glances at me and sees my smile, his face changing to amusement as Nat comes up behind me to dance. I turn around in Loki's arms and reach for Natasha, who gets closer to me and dances like the way we do when we go clubbing, Loki still holding my waist.

After Criminal, Tony let Peter pick a song, because he is a softy for his Spiderson, and that boy put on Baby Shark. The best part was all of us knew the dance and song because of little Morgan. We did change the words so that it's Baby Stark, but only because it made Morgan laugh and Tony flush.

After the Baby Stark song, Natasha thinks she's funny and plays Low-Key by Ally Brooke. That was an adventure in and of itself.

After that we had cupcakes because Stark pays more attention than I thought.

Loki and I sit on the couch after cupcakes, my legs in his lap, his fingers running along the soft fabric of my dress that covers my legs. Morgan sits on the other side of the couch with Peter, who watches her colour. Steve, Bucky, and Nat are sitting shoulder to shoulder opposite to us. Steve has his sketch pad in his lap and he keeps glancing at us, which tells me that he's drawing us. I don't mind, I'd love that memory. Nat and Buck, on either side of him, watch him sketch. Tony walks over to look over Steve's shoulder. He must have been done because Tony pats his shoulder and comes over to me and Loki. He has Loki and I sign the papers to make the marriage legally recognized by the state. It's official now. Afterward, he takes my hand and pulls me to the dance floor again. He plays a series of slower songs and he dances with me. I end up dancing with most of the Avengers: Tony, Steve, Bucky (twice; one slow, one fast), Thor, Peter, even Clint. It was really nice.

It isn't long before Loki claims me again. He dances with a few people (Pepper, Wanda, but mostly Morgan.) We dance to Taylor Swift's Lover, then Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. By the time the party dies down again, it's nearing two am.

"Alright! I have one more thing to give the newlyweds before we prepare for hangovers and go to sleep." Tony shouts over the small group around us.

"Tony, you gave us a wedding, we don't need anything else." I tell him.

He smirks at me, "You may not but it's more your him than you, dear."

I cock an eyebrow at him as he hands Loki a little box. He opens it and takes the key out, slightly confused.

"You didn't think I would let you spend your honeymoon in the tower, did you?"

I gasp loudly, realizing what he did. "That's not... you wouldn't. Tones, are you being for real?"

"I'm confused, what is this?"

"That, Reindeer Games, is the key to the house on my private island." I shriek and throw my arms around Tony's neck. He hugs me tight. "The copter is waiting on the roof. You have clothes there (not that you will need them). You have 3 days. You are to be back by New Year's Eve."

Tony let's me go and Loki pretty much drags me to the roof. He helps me into the helicopter and buckles into the seat next to mine. He brings my knuckles to his lips as we take off, mouthing 'I love you' through the noise.

#loki #loki friggason #loki wedding #loki love #loki x ofc #loki and the avengers #avengers! loki #Avengers #avengers fic #lots more tags #just pretend

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

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Jar Of Dirt Chapter 5: Silk Rope [Starker Fanfiction NSFW/18+]

Kink/Sexual Warnings: Phone Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Name-calling, Verbal Humiliation, Shibari Other warnings: None

All Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10 ... Masterpost (More to come!)

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Chapter 5: Silk Rope Tony is pacing through his lab, biting down his lips harshly. He doesn’t understand why the new AI he’s developing won’t connect to F.R.I.D.A.Y. for him to run a test through it. It’s annoying as fuck, and he really doesn’t feel like dealing with this at all. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., what’s wrong?” Tony mutters as he looks through the data again. It should be working just fine. Both programs are fully operative, so it’s the connection between the two. That’s the issue here. Meaning it would take a long ass time to get it fixed. “There’s a dis- Incoming call from Peter Parker.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces, making Tony look up instantly. He grabs his phone from the desk and picks up.

“Hey, Peter, you alright?” He’s a little worried, his lover never calls him this time of the day. Not when he knows Tony is working.” “N-No? Not exactly? I can’t find it, Mr. Stark.” Tony gulps when he hears the soft, whining sounds falling from the boy’s lips. “Are you jerking off right now?” He sits down at the edge of the table, raising his eyebrows and enjoying the distraction. “I am, how did you know?” “Baby, you’re moaning.” “Oh- right. Uhm. Well. I can’t find it.” Peter says, this time a little quieter. Tony shakes his head. “Can’t find what, exactly?” “My, uh, prostate?” Tony’s eyes widen and he mentally curses at himself for getting hard at the image of Peter in his bed, naked, his fingers pushing inside his hole. Oh, if only he could see him right now. He shifts, trying to relieve some of the pressure of his pants straining around his now half-hard erection.

“And you need me to help you find it, is that why you’re calling, baby boy?” “Y-yes. Need your help.” Peter pants desperately. “Want to be ready for you, daddy. Want you to fuck me this weekend.” Tony sucks in a sharp breath and squeezes his eyes shut, a hot surge of arousal coursing through his veins. He’s been trying to ignore that exact desire, not wanting to force it onto Peter before the boy would be ready. Sure seems he’s ready for it now. God. His muscles clench, making his dick twitch. “Baby,” he breathes, “-I wanna fuck you so bad. You’re so perfect, such a good boy, opening yourself up for me. Tell me, what are you doing right now?” “I’m on my back, trying to finger myself, but I just can’t reach deep enough; it’s so frustrating!” “Okay, baby. First things first. Are you on speaker?” “N-No?” “Put me on speaker, want you to use both your hands to pleasure yourself,” Tony orders his lover, and he smiles fondly when he hears the boy shifting around, cursing and muttering that he can’t find his AirPods. “Alright, I’m back, I’m ready. Teach me how to do this right, Mr. Stark.”

“I want you to put your feet up the wall first, letting your knees fall down to your chest.” Tony waits a few seconds until he hears Peter stop moving around. “Now, I don’t care how much lube you used already, you’re gonna use more. Drop some down onto your hole and get your fingers wet and ready to go.” He hears the bottle of lube getting uncapped and the soft, shaky breaths leaving Peter’s mouth as he gets himself ready. “And now?” “Now, you’ll stroke your hard, pretty cock, slow and steady…” “Uh-huh,” Peter breathes out. “And sloooowly… You start pushing your first finger in. How’s that feel?” “G-good-” Peter pauses to take a few short, shaky breaths. “Wish it were you. My fingers are so small.” He groans, “Can I add a second one, please, daddy?” Peter’s voice leaks arousal and Tony can’t help himself as he unbuckles his belt so he can get access to his own cock. “Slowly, sweet thing…” Tony cups his own dick in his hands, feeling the precum trickle out of the tip. He holds back a moan as he orders Peter to add the third one too, stretching himself good. The boy’s whimpers go straight to his cock, as always. There’s just something about his voice, so angelic and sweet yet so filthy at the same time. Tony lazily strokes his shaft, leaning nonchalantly against his desk.

“Now, you’ll push your fingers in as deep as you can…” Tony smiles dreamily, head hanging back. “And then, once you’re there, you’ll curl them and slowly move the tips up and down until you find your spot.” Tony has his eyes closed, seeing Peter on his sad, tiny twin bed, feet against the wall, surrounded by posters of science and- and- Tony bites his tongue to hold back a moan when he remembers Peter has a poster of him on his wall. He wonders if Peter’s facing it. Legs on either side of the paper, displaying himself to Tony’s image. The idea makes him light-headed, his hand slowly increases its pumping. “I can’t find it,” Peter whines quietly. “It’s just… How do you even- Ooh!”

Tony can’t hold back anymore and moans out loud, wishing he could see it happening. He can see it in his head, though. Vividly. Peter’s so hot when he’s horny, and the pretty sounds he makes leave nothing to the imagination. “Did you find it, baby? You make yourself feel good?” Tony groans as he increases the speed of his hand around his cock. “Y-yeah, thank you, daddy, fuck, I wish it were you. I imagine it’s you. Will you jerk off too, please? I wanna hear you.” “Got good news for you, kid,” Tony pants as he increases the mic’s volume with a flick of his wrist. Peter moans obscenely in response. “Your pretty sighs and whines and moans had me hard since the start of this phone call, baby. You have no idea what you do to me.” Tony growls. His free hand roams up under his shirt to pinch his own nipple. His face contorts with pleasure. “D-daddy,” Peter moans. “Feels so good, am so close- Sound so hot-” “Hmmm,” Tony croaks. “You love my voice, don’t you, baby? Love the way I tell you what to do, love to let it make you hard, throbbing and leaking and desperate for release like the good little slut you are.” “A-a-ah!” Tony can hear Peter’s bed creaking in the background. “Yes, daddy, yes, yes, so good, sooo-nnnngh!” “Are you watching daddy now, sweet thing? His image staring down at you from the wall?” “Mhm-mhm-mhm!” Peter’s so drunk on lust he can’t stop chanting. “Bet you looked at the same poster on that night you accidentally called me,” Tony growls as he pinches his nipple hard, sending a surge of both pain and arousal through his entire body. “Wishing it was me right there with you, telling you all the filthy things I’m telling you now. How you’re such a good boy for me, a good little slut, my good little slut.” Peter cries with desperation and Tony can hear the lube squirting as Peter fucks himself harder and harder and faster and faster. “And then I picked up. Completely unaware of what you were doing to yourself. Completely oblivious to the fact that you liked me the way I liked you.” Peter pants erratically, every breath a short, filthy moan. He must be right on edge now, waiting for Tony’s last words to tip him over. “And when I said your name, what did you do? Tell me, sweet boy.” Peter seems to have stopped breathing. “I- I came-” he pushes out. “Good boy…” Tony coos as he bends forward, his pumps getting him right to the edge. “And again, now… Come for me, Peter.” His voice is dark. “Come for daddy.”

Peter wails, and the mental image of him spilling his hot cum all over himself tips Tony over the edge, ruining his clothes. He groans loudly and has to catch himself from falling, his knees buckling, eyes blown wide. Peter’s still panting on the other side of the line and Tony manages to stand up straight when he hears Peter scoff out one, high pitched, panicked laugh. “I-” Peter pauses. Tony looks at the floor, trying to collect himself from the orgasm that he just had when Peter says: “I just kicked a hole in the wall.”

Peter grins as he walks into the tower. It’s Friday, 3pm. He knows Tony will still be working, but since Peter’s last lecture got canceled, he figured he’d come in early. He knows his way around the place anyway. He can’t wait to see Tony’s face when he comes in later, realizing he’s here. Usually, he comes in after dinner on Friday. Which is why he decided to cook for Tony. He’s not a great cook, and he can’t say the dishes he makes at their dorm are very fancy, but it’s nutritious, at least. He does pay attention to it being healthy. He has to, to keep up physically. He just hopes Tony will like his burrito bowl.

Tony, about an hour later, looks up in confusion when the scent of freshly cooked food starts seeping into the lab. He frowns, wondering where it came from. As far as he knows, there’s no meetings or anything else that could explain why he should be smelling this scent. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., are there any guests?” “No, Mr. Stark. Just Peter Parker.” “What?” Tony’s eyes widen. “Where is he?” “In your private suite,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answers, making Tony chuckle out loud. He looks at the pieces of tech in front of him. Those would be just fine laying there untouched for a couple days.

Once he walks into his suite, the smell gets even stronger. But what really gets to him is the way Peter is slightly moving along to the music he’s playing while stirring in the pan. “Hey, baby.” “Tony! You’re here!” Peter beams as he lets go of the wooden spoon, running towards Tony and wrapping his arms around the man tightly. “I missed you,” he whispers into his chest. Tony returns the embrace, holding the boy close and enjoying the calm enjoyment settling deep in his bones. Sometimes it scares him how much he cares for Peter. How much he truly, and utterly loves him. “Missed you more,” he whispers into the boy’s curls and kisses the top of his head. “What are you making?” “Burrito bowls. Is that okay?” “Hmmm, never had any, but sure sounds lovely. Smells amazing too. What did I do to deserve this treat?” Peter shrugs, looking up. “Just being you. You make me happy. You always treat me, so why not do something back?”

Once they finish their bowls, and Tony reassuring Peter a thousand times how much he loved it, Peter licks his lips and looks at Tony, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “I don’t want to sound like a horny college kid, I mean, I am-,” Peter chuckles, “-but, can we pick something from the jar again?” “I love my horny college kid, please, would love to try something new with you. Been thinking about your lovely moans all week.” “Oh, you’re so smooth, Mr. Stark.” Peter grins, but he can’t hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. Tony wiggles his eyebrows and spreads his arms. “That’s me, the one and only.” Peter huffs. “Hush, go get the jar,” Peter playfully pushes the man off “-and take that ego with you.” “Hmm, you know how to talk dirty, babe.” “Oh, you wish.” Tony laughs, kisses Peter’s cheek and walks off to get the jar. He loves the bright energy from Peter, especially now that he seems to start feeling more and more confident each and every day. Last week shook him to his very core, and he’s been working at it every day to let Peter know just how much pleasure he gives him. They’ve been texting, calling, at every opportunity. Some of those things have definitely put a bit of a strain on his comfort zone, but that’s a good thing, he figures. It’s incredible how Peter’s changed him for the better. He’s still scared shitless about the possibility that one of his kinks might come up today, but so far, Peter has shown him so much support. Peter’s brave, he tries the things he wants to. Tony wants to do the same.

“Alright, your turn to pick, boy.” Tony hands the jar to Peter, and he laughs at the excited look on Peter’s face. The boy sticks his hand inside and pulls it back out within a second, just grabbing the first piece he feels. Tony’s throat feels very dry all of a sudden when he sees that, as he feared, this is one of his own. For the love of God, please, let it not be one of his heavy kinks. He wants to try those with Peter, but he needs more time to accept that Peter wants him to enjoy those. Tony’s not quite there yet.

“Can I look, Mr. Stark?” “Hmmm,” Tony nods, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach, “-tell me what it says.” Peter turns the paper around and looks down in confusion. “Shi… Shibari? What’s that?” “Japanese rope bondage,” Tony answers slowly and watches Peter’s mouth go ‘oh,’ “-it’s an art form, actually. But used a lot for sexual bondage as well.” “I… have no idea how it works, but please, show me?” “You want to try it?” Peter nods at that and offers Tony a reassuring smile, he knows this is the first kink that Tony put in there and how insecure it can make the so put-together man feel. “I definitely do. I would love to feel what it’s like to be restrained. And, uh, if it’s art, I’ll be pretty too!” “You’re always pretty.” Peter waves his hand as if to shoo Tony away. “Oh, youuu.” Tony grins unapologetically and takes a step closer, bridging the gap between them. “You wanna choose the rope? I have to admit, I got quite a collection.”

“And then, if I pull the rope through this loop, you’ll have a knot that’s rather easy to untie for me. But you won’t be able to loosen it from your end of the rope.” Tony smiles and shows off what he’s trying to explain to Peter. The boy’s on his back on Tony’s - their - bed, his hands in front of his chest, elbows touching. He’s looking down at the fancy, intricate knots that tie his arms together. He can see why this is an art form, it’s gorgeous. It makes him feel pretty, too. He also really likes the feeling of the way the rope restrains his movement, immobilizing his arms entirely. In the weirdest way, it makes him feel safe. Perhaps because it’ll be easier to let go without the fear of him possibly hurting Tony. Maybe because it makes it easier to surrender into his submission. Probably a lot more things he can’t put into solid thoughts right now. He chose a fancy, silk-like deep red rope. It’s soft on his skin, tight around his arms. The color really sticks out against his pale skin. He listens as Tony explains more about the ropes, finishing up his last knot and then admiring his work. “How do I look?” Peter beams. Tony licks his lips. “Like you’re a fucking gift. My little present to explore.” “Oh.” Peter gulps, biting down the moan that’d been rising in his throat. “You’ll unpack me then?” “Not physically,” Tony answers, his voice low and rough. Last week, Peter had been asking for Tony to fuck him this weekend. Time to offer it to the boy now. “If you let me, I want to fuck you. Unpack each and every layer of your pleasure.” A soft whine escapes Peter’s lips. “Please.” “Please, what?” “Please, daddy.” “Good boy.”

Tony sits down on the bed, on his knees, placing Peter’s legs on either side of him. His hands softly trail up and down Peter’s skin, causing goosebumps to rise. Tony chuckles as he pets the thin hairs standing up straight, and Peter jolts slightly. “T-Tony.” “What is it, boy?” “Tickles,” Peter whines. Tony ignores Peter’s protests and continues to tease him. His hands glide up Peter’s legs towards his center, and Peter gasps when Tony nearly gives him the attention he yearns for but instead moves past it. Tony’s fingers walk up to Peter’s toned torso, his breath hot and slow on the boy’s sensitive skin. The billionaire skillfully evades the knots with each “step” he takes and Peter tries to arch his back, hoping to get more friction. He’s partially held back by the tight knots binding him together, and he shuts his eyes, a frustrated frown scrunching his face together. Tony’s teasing is symmetrical, just like the rope art he bound Peter in. Both hands giving only the slightest attention to either side of Peter’s body. “Is it growing, Peter?” Tony asks rhetorically. “Your need to be touched? Are you yearning for me yet, sweet thing?” “A-always yearning-” Peter breathes. “-For your touch, daddy. A-always.” Tony hums content, slipping his index fingers under the rope, rubbing Peter’s skin under it with slightly more pressure than he put on the boy’s body before. Peter twitches at the attention. “Such a good boy, always saying the right things to make daddy happy…” Peter nods, eyes still screwed shut. “Want you to be happy- want to be your good boy.” Peter forces out the words, trying not to whine too much. Tony smirks and brings his head down, closer to Peter’s chest. His fingers slip out from under the rope and trace circles on Peter’s skin, higher and higher until he hears the boy gasp.

“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you? Such sensitive little buds for me to tease.” Tony flicks Peter’s nipples at the same time, drinking in the lovely moans Peter makes. “You sound so pretty when I touch you…” Tony kisses Peter in the middle of his chest. Feathery light, tongue slipping out briefly to taste the salty sweat on Peter’s skin. His thumbs rub rhythmical circles over Peter’s nipples. “Makes me never want to let go.” “Don’t let go, daddy, please,” Peter pleads. Tony trails a wet kiss up all the way to Peter’s jawline until their lips meet. It’s hungry and passionate, and fuck, this kid tastes so good. Peter’s dick is painfully hard, Tony knows. His hands move away from the nipples, tugging at the ropes and knots as he makes his way down. His hands stop right above Peter’s soft bush, and the boy bucks his hips involuntarily. Tony glances down as he moves his kiss back over Peter’s neck, leaving the boy a gasping mess.

“Want me to touch you there, sweet thing?” Peter nods frantically, pulling at his restraints. “Please- please, daddy, please.” Tony takes one long breath through his nose. Peter is so good for him. Such a perfect little sub. So pretty, all bound and completely at Tony’s mercy. Daddy’s mercy. Without warning, both Tony’s hands glide over Peter’s shaft. Once. Hard. Fast. Peter gasps, eyes blown wide, trying to arch further into Tony’s touch, but he can’t. Tony has let go of him and Peter’s entire body is on fire. Screaming. He needs to be touched. “Oh…” Tony coos. “So beautiful, Peter. You really are a work of art.” Peter can only let out a soft whine as response as he closes his eyes again, feeling his aching cock twitch against his lower abdomen. If only he could reach down to relieve some of the pleasure. Tony spreads Peter’s legs a little further and marvels at the boy’s flexibility. “You’re going to make me lose my mind,” Tony growls, his hands tightening their grip on Peter’s legs and pulling him closer. Peter’s bucking his hips up, a pleading look on his face. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, he’s been already teased for so long. But Tony’s not done yet. No. Peter is going to have to wait just a bit longer. Tony wants to drag this out for as long as he can. He wants him to remember his first time forever.

“Do you like this, sweet boy? Being completely at my mercy? Bound in ropes and knots and ties almost as pretty as you are. You must be aching to touch yourself now, aren’t you? Or are you aching to touch me?” Peter whimpers at Tony’s words, nodding up and down desperately. “Well… You can’t.” Peter takes a sharp breath, the head of his dick red at the lack of attention. “Look at you, at your twitching cock, you’re leaking for me and I barely even touched you.” Tony throws his head back triumphantly. “Such a slut.” “D-daddy,” Peter whimpers. “Please-” “Please, what?” Tony repeats. “Fuck- fuck me.” Tony leans in towards Peter’s chest again, kissing one of his nipples. Softly at first, but when he licks the tip, the most beautiful moan falls off Peter’s lips. “In due time, pretty boy,” he coos. “I’m going to enjoy you first.” When Tony moves to Peter’s other nipple, his hands lift Peter’s legs over his shoulders. His kisses are wet and sloppy, eliciting the filthy noises from Peter that he loves so much. His hands tug at the ropes around Peter’s chest before moving down again, squeezing Peter’s ass once before slowly nearing where Peter wants him.

“Oh, god, feels so good-” Peter manages to get out. “Please, more, daddy, fuck!” Tony bites down slightly on Peter’s nipple, causing him to swear. The precum is leaking from his cock at a steady pace now, and Tony quickly wipes some from Peter’s abdomen before bringing his index finger to circle the boy’s hole. Peter’s a sweating, crying mess and by God, isn’t he absolutely divine. “Here I go,” Tony playfully raises an eyebrow, but his irises tell a different story. He purposefully ignores the growing wet spot in his own underwear, as always. How in the world could he put himself first if there is such a gorgeous boy on the bed? Whining and moaning and whimpering for Tony- for daddy, to give him pleasure. And boy, is Tony planning on giving his Peter Parker all the pleasure he deserves. He gently pushes in one finger, waiting for Peter to get used to the feeling. He unclenches around the billionaire relatively quickly, and Tony holds back a moan, thinking about how his little slut has been prepping his hole for Tony to destroy all week. Tony stops kissing the boy and leans back to sit up straight. He wants to see Peter fall apart for him before he fucks him. He wants to see the look on the boy’s face. Desperate. Tony starts to pump in and out of Peter agonizingly slowly. Enough for the boy to feel good, not enough to make him see stars. After about ten pumps, Peter’s breath turns ragged.

“Mzzr- Stark- Daddy-” Peter’s voice is slurred, eyes still closed. His mouth hangs open, and every so often, it curls into a pained smile. “What is it, Peter?” Tony replies nonchalantly. “Please, please, faster. Touch- mm-- g-spot.” Tony grins and has to admit he’s a bit taken back by Peter, referring to it as such. Would Peter like other feminine references too? Tony would have to find out some other time. Not today. Today he’s gonna focus on making the first fuck as mind-blowing as he can. The look on his face is near-evil when he continues his teasing. “Oh, I don’t think I can get to that right now, you see…” Tony pulls out to add a second finger. “I’m not going to touch you where you want me the most. Do you know why?” Peter shakes his head violently, and Tony kisses his leg. “Because you’re not desperate enough.” The vibrations of Tony’s voice shoot through Peter’s legs, up to his dick and it throbs in response. “Bu- daddy-!” “We both know what you’ve been prepping for, sweet thing. Do you really think I’m going to hit that spot with my fingers today?” Peter still has his eyes closed and doesn’t notice the lubed up dildo Tony grabs from the side of the bed. Without warning, he takes out his fingers and pushes the shaft in as far as he can. Peter’s eyes open wide, and another small spurt of precum trickles out of his cock when he realizes what Tony’s doing. Tony knows his stuff, though, and Peter whines when he notices Tony skillfully angles the fake dick away from Peter’s spot. Tony growls. “Tonight’s the night I will take you. I’m going to fuck your virgin ass until you’re screaming for me, Peter. Would you like that? Would you like to be mine and mine alone? You were already bound by me… Might as well get bound to me.” Peter can only chant in response. “Yes- yes- yes- yes!” “Tell me how you want me, Peter. Can you do that? Tell me how to take you and if your answer satisfies me, I might just do it. Replace this piece of junk with the real deal.”

Peter gasps, trying to buck his hips. The rope creaks, and for a brief second Tony fears Peter might snap them with his super strength. His boy is good for him though. He’ll hold out. For now. Something inside Tony wishes Peter would break the ropes. Gives him a good reason to get even prettier ones, and he could add it to the hidden pile of things that Peter broke because of the pleasure Tony gave him. Tony looks down at Peter, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead, his hair damp, sticking to his face. He’s red as a beet. His shade complimenting the red ropes around his body as Tony keeps pumping the dildo in and out of Peter’s pretty hole. “Daddy, wanna make you feel so good, please, fuck me, fuck me hard. Break me, daddy,” Peter gasps. “More,” Tony growls, pumping the fake cock faster and faster with each of Peter’s words. “F-fuck, daddy, please, fill my hole with your cock, I wanna feel you throb inside me- Come inside me.” “More.” “Daddy, please-please-please, I need your cock inside me, I need you to fuck me, please, fuck your cockslut, fuck, fuck, fuck!” “Good boy.”

Tony pulls out the dildo and swiftly pushes into Peter’s readied hole himself. Using the leftover lube from the dildo and his own precum to glide right into Peter, who gasps when his daddy immediately hits the right spot. The sensation renders both men speechless, panting, and moaning softly, and Tony can’t help but lean down as he watches the pleasure wash over Peter’s face. He rolls his hips slowly, relishing in the feeling of finally having his pretty Peter Parker clench around him. Tony pushes his hands through Peter’s hair, and he goes in for a soft and passionate kiss. No more words are exchanged. There’s nothing left of their dirty confidence. It startles them both, but this might be even better. Both overwhelmed by each other; they make love. Peter clenches and unclenches around Tony in a steady rhythm, gasping with each and every thrust hitting him right where he wants to. His restraints somehow forgotten, yet still there. He feels safe and warm and all he can do is moan into the sweet, tender kisses his lover peppers him with.

After a little bit, Tony takes his mouth off Peter’s, and with a shaky breath, he confesses. “I love you, Peter. I love you so much. I would give you the world, but I can’t cause you are the world.” New tears glide down Peter’s cheeks. Tears of happiness. Tears of love. Tears of feeling loved. Every part of his being is enveloped in Tony’s adoration for him and he lifts his head off the pillow to continue their soft and sweet kisses. “And if I were to give you the world?” Peter breathes against Tony’s lips, sticking with the symbolism. “I would cherish it.” Tony presses a kiss on the corner of Peter’s mouth. “Take care of it. Keep it warm and safe. Make sure it knows it is loved. That he is loved,” Tony sighs back. “You have me, Mr. Stark- Tony. You have me. I am yours.” Tony slowly increases his pace. “As I am yours.”

Their breathing goes faster and faster, their kissing giving them barely any chance to take in air. Peter’s seeing stars. The overstimulation on his skin, the wet, sloppy kisses, Tony thrusting into him in the exact right way. Tony moans into him and moves his free hand down Peter’s pretty restraints. The boy gasps when Tony’s long, rough fingers wrap around his shaft and start jerking him off at the same speed Tony’s pumping into him. It doesn’t take long for Peter to turn into a shaking mess. “Are you close?” Tony asks quietly. Peter nods slightly. “Yes, please, don’t stop,” he pants. “I won’t, baby boy…” Tony’s mouth moves to start sucking on the spot below Peter’s ear, where he knows Peter is very sensitive. Peter moans desperately in response. “Want you to come with me,” he whimpers. Tony smiles, his pacing becoming slightly erratic. “Well then, my sweet Peter…” Tony whispers in his ear before licking a long stripe along the shell. “Come.”

Peter gasps as he explodes all over his torso. The bottom few ropes being covered in cum. Tony hears a few cracks, and he knows Peter must’ve ripped a few of them. The way the boy clenches around him makes Tony freeze as he shoots his hot cum into Peter’s tight hole, filling him up. His face is scrunched up with his mouth open, jaw clenched. He rides down his high and slowly lowers himself to lay down on top of Peter. They’re entirely still for a moment, their fast-thumping hearts slowly pacing down. Peter’s slightly trembling, though, and when Tony looks up at him, he’s met with Peter’s teary puppy eyes. “Peter,” Tony whispers gently, wiping the tears off his cheeks. “You okay, sweetness?” “Y-Yeah,” Peter manages, soft pants still leaving his lips. He bends his knees to press Tony against him with a bit more force, needing to feel him. “I… Haven’t felt this loved by anyone. Ever. It’s so overwhelming and-” Peter sniffs, “-I never quite believe how much you say you love me, but now I could literally feel it.” “Oh, baby.” Tony breathes, tightening his embrace. His eyes are stinging too now. Fuck. “I got you. I’m always gonna be here for you. You’re, and I’m not exaggerating, the love of my fucking life.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to keep his shit together. “Took me a long time to find you, but as long as you’ll have me, I’m not letting you go. You’re my baby boy. I love you.”

When he pulls out of Peter, the boy whimpers at the loss. “Shhh, I got you baby. Let me help you clean up. You’re one messy, pretty boy.” He unties the knots that are still intact, getting Peter out of his bindings. There are some slight marks in his skin, but after a quick check, it’s clear there are no rope burns. Good. He grabs the towel he put to his nightstand earlier and carefully wipes both their cum off the boy’s chest and legs. “How you feeling, you hurt anywhere?" “No, I mean, I guess I feel slightly sore, but… I like it?” Peter smiles happily, sticking his arms out to urge Tony to come cuddle him. “I’m okay, Tony. Thanks for checking up on me.” The older man lays down next to Peter and pulls him into his side, dragging the blankets over their blissed-out bodies. The boy snuggles against him, resting his head on Tony’s chest. Tony smiles, stroking the boy’s back, tracing the skin ever so lightly. Peter shifts a bit, getting more comfortable. Tony freezes when he feels Peter’s cock rubbing against his thigh, hot. Warm. And hard.

“Honey, you hard again already?” “Yeah, why?” Tony blinks, dropping his head to the side to stare the boy straight in his eyes. “Wait a minute. You don’t… Need time? Did it even… Soften up?” “No, it didn’t? I mean only a little at first, but- wait, time for what?” Peter furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Oh, God. He really doesn’t know what Tony’s talking about. “Tell me, Peter,” the man starts slowly. “-how often do you usually jerk off in one go?” “Oh, uhm. I guess five is usual? Eight or nine if I’m really feeling it.” Tony huffs out a surprised breath. Sure, Peter’s still young. Kids his age have less of a refractory period. But this is impressive. “What? What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong, uhm, that spider bite may have enhanced more of your eh… Abilities, than you think.”

“You mean you’re not hard right now?” Peter’s hand creeps down Tony’s crotch without any shame. Tony bites his lips at the boy feeling him up, trying to tone down his own embarrassment. Sure, he’s old. He knows he needs more time. Peter’s just exploring. It’s okay. Peter’s eyes widen. “I’m not normal?” “I wouldn’t put it like that, but, yeah. Most people, not even people your age, would be able to do that. Sure there’s some, but it’s rather unheard of.” “Oh. Shit. How often can you come?” Tony laughs at that. “At my age, being a boring human man without superpowers? Once. Twice, if I’m lucky. But I definitely need time in between.” He shakes his head, grinning, the knowledge sinking in. This is gonna change things up so good. “Peter, I have a new idea for the jar.” “W-What?” “You’ll find out.” Tony presses a kiss on the top of Peter’s astonished face and ‘accidentally’ brushes his hand past Peter’s cock. “You’ll find out.”

--- More: Chapter 6 Masterpost

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