#aren’t allowing her to shine

[mazojo]

Something so mlm wlw solidarity of Eloise and Benedict talking in the swings

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[sierrale8ne]

paige bueckers x black!fwb!oc part one part two

nsfw // 3.9k words, dom!paige, sub!oc, oral (p is a munch #munchmadness), strap-on sex, praise, spit play, stomach bulge, hair pulling, breeding kink, dirty talk (this is a given atp), they’re a lil mean i’m ngl, fluff.

The sun barely even begun to rise yet, just shyly peeking out from behind the horizon when Venus began to shift in and out of sleep. Her head softly pressed against the silk pillowcase, a hand pressed against her cheek as she turned towards Paige.

The blonde was yet to have fallen asleep, she’d been up for hours, thinking about the pair’s admission of feelings on the couch.

It didn’t go further than soft kisses after that. Venus didn’t say it again, and neither did Paige. But she wanted to. So bad. The moment didn’t feel real, and with how fast Venus fell asleep in her arms, she thought she must have dreamed it. Paige thought it had to have been the heat of the moment or maybe even the chocolates. When Paige dropped the bomb, she meant it. But for whatever reason, her mind wouldn’t allow her to believe that Venus meant it too.

The soft shine of sunlight bounced off of Venus’s brown skin, the glow of her skin was mesmerizing, Paige couldn’t believe that this was how she got to spend her morning. Simply admiring the girl in all her glory.

She reached out to tug on the scarf around Venus’s head, pulling it forward to avoid hearing her yell about it slipping off, when she woke up. The action caused Venus to stir a little bit more, blinking sleep out of her eyes and seeing Paige practically stare at her.

Her head was resting in the palm of her hand, an elbow propped on the head to keep her upright. Strands from her bun falling in messy pieces across her face. The sports bra Paige wore was more than enough to highlight the hickeys on her neckline.

“Were you watching me sleep?” The groggy morning voice made Paige briefly shut here eyes.

“No.”

“You lying?” Venus questioned. Her lips were slightly swollen from sleep and her eyes were nearly shut. A sight Paige found all too attractive at 5:45 in the morning. How could she look so beautiful fresh out of sleep?

“You’re a pretty sleeper, I got mesmerized.”

“Quit that.” Venus blushed, her hand covered her face as she nuzzled her head back into her pillow. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I was just thinking about shit. Don’t worry about it, V.” Paige shook her head. “Go back to sleep, I know you’re tired.”

“Oh, you know?”

Paige nods, thinking back to the night they had before, the sound of their moans ringing in her ears, the feeling of Venus’s touch on the most sensitive parts of her body. She knew her like nobody else did, studied Paige like she was a piece of literature. Venus could write a whole multi-page essay on everything about the girl.

She scooted closer, brushing the hair out of Paige’s face. She looked ethereal with the small rays of sun on her face. “Baby?”

“Did I tell you how much I love it when you call me that?” The blonde responded, a soft blush forming on her face.

“What were you thinking about?”

In the back of her mind, Venus already knew what Paige was thinking about. Paige was not a fan of love, one specific girl who lead her on for months was to blame for that. And Venus was victim to something similar. It’s what made this casual sex relationship easy, they didn’t have to worry about falling in love, because they weren’t searching for it.

But here they were, just hours after admitting to the one thing that wasn’t supposed to happen, that should’ve never happened, and now neither one of them knew how to move forward.

Paige chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit that Venus found adorable. “I-uh. Did you mean it? What you said last night?”

“Did you?” Venus rebutted. She didn’t know how to go about this conversation. Paige was a sweetheart and she knew that, but God was it hard not to think that she was going to leave her for dead after this conversation.

Paige nodded slowly, knowing that if the words were to leave her mouth again that everything would become real. The feelings she felt would be real, the possibility of her getting hurt again would be real. And she didn’t want that. Not with Venus.

“You have to say it, Paige. I need to hear you say it.”

The silence in the room was deafening. It was hard for Paige to do that, Venus knew it probably better than anyone else. But she needed that for herself, she needed to know that the person she was the most intimate with, the person who was the most important to her felt the same way she did.

Paige leaned closer, cupping Venus’s cheek in her hand. The atmosphere became more tense and neither of them wanted to move, to scared of breaking down the other. So Venus was the one to make the move, pressing her soft lips to Paige’s with a touch that resembled a feather before pulling back.

“Venus.”

She waited, eagerly for her to say something else. Then was surprised by Paige leaning back in for another kiss.

It did hurt a part of her to not get that verbal confirmation, but as soon as Paige’s lips met hers again, as soon as her large, soft hands met her waist and laid her on her back, Venus pushed it all to the back of her mind.

“You drive me crazy.” Paige mumbled against her lips, pulling on the hem of the black Nike Basketball t-shirt Venus sported. Her lips moved like they had a mind of their own, blending with Venus’s as her tongue parted them and slipped inside her mouth—morning breath seemingly the least of her concerns. She pulled the shirt up more, feeling the warmth of her thighs and letting out a soft groan.

Venus’s hand crept towards the band of Paige’s boxers, snapping the elastic against the ivory skin of her hip bones.

“Slow down.” Paige muttered, her kisses soothing in nature, “we got all morning. All day if you let me.”

Venus would. Without a doubt she would let her do whatever she pleased. Paige could ask her to jump and she’d ask how high. It’s why, even despite the slight pain in her chest, she still let the blonde touch her like this and speak to her like this. Venus’s hands left Paige’s hips, reaching to wrap her arms around her neck and pull the athlete closer.

“Stop it.” Venus begged, not sure what she meant. To stop holding back, maybe to stop teasing, she definitely didn’t want Paige to stop kissing her and the athlete didn’t stop. “Please.”

Paige pulled back, not a single word leaving her lips as she pulled the shirt over Venus’s head and tossed it off the bed. “You’re so beautiful, V.” Those soft pink lips found her neck, kissing the bruised skin there with an incredible tenderness. “Most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Paige.” Her name left Venus’s throat as a strangled moan.

Paige’s kisses traveled slowly, at first to her collarbone where she kissed the bible scripture tattoo marked there. Isaiah 60:22. Paige remembered the very first time she saw it, the very deep conversation it invoked.

She then kissed her shoulder, at the Dahlia’s inked into her skin. The girl’s favorite flower, the ones Paige bought for her every time they fought, every time Venus had given her weed for free, every time the girl crossed her mind in a way that was more than purely sexual.

Her lips met the valley of Venus’s breasts, then over to the supple skin where she pulled a nipple into her mouth. “You should get these pierced, you know?” Paige spoke into her chest. “They’d look even more perfect.”

Venus simply nodded, arching her back into the blonde some more. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Whatever you want.” Venus moaned, eyes fluttering open to see Paige already staring back at her. Bright sky blue eyes drinking in her entire being, pink tongue swirling around her swollen nipple, sucking on it like a woman starved. “Just wanna make you happy, P.”

“I know you do.” She nodded, moving to show some attention to Venus’s other tit. “That’s why you let me touch you like this, right?” Paige asked. Her lips kept sliding down Venus’s decorated body, passing by each scar, each drop of ink, each bruise and love bite.

“That’s why you always forgive me, even when I piss you off so bad? You just wanna make me happy?” Venus’s breath hitched when she felt Paige speak against her hipbone, “tell me again. Tell me you love me.”

“You’re so fuckin’ mean. Can’t even say it to me first, and now you wanna hear me say it again? Fuck you.” Venus breathed, slightly pushing back at the blondes shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Paige apologized. Her long fingers reached up to hold onto Venus’s hand interlacing their fingers together, the other creeping to the hem of the girl’s panties. White lace with an innocent small white bow. “You know how I feel about you, baby.” She added, kissing right above her clit through the cloth.

Paige’s tongue darted out to lick a stripe up Venus’s clothed clit, collecting her essence on her tongue.

“So wet. I do that, V?”

“Fuck. You.”

“I will. I promise, but you gotta say something for me first.” Paige teased, continuing with slow licks to her most prized possession. Venus could feel the saliva seeping though running past her folds from Paige’s actions, she was giving in. As desperately as she wanted to stand her ground, not let Paige break what was left of her confidence, it was so fucking hard.

“I hate you.” Venus said. Her voice attempted to be stern but it came out as a slight whimper. “Yes. You get me this wet, P.” Venus admitted.

The blonde dipped under the thick comforter and began pulling the lace down Venus’s long, toned legs. Her eyes immediately falling towards her dripping center and her head completely diving into it before there was even a chance to fully take her underwear off. The fabric clinging to Venus’s lower thighs.

Venus’s taste was addictive, that was evident in the way Paige’s tongue instantly traveled to her hole, torturously fucking her with her tongue and groaning loudly. She could die like this.

“More. Please, gimme more.” Venus moaned, her head craning down towards her lover. She let go of Paige’s hand, moving to hold the comforter to get a better look.

“I love how you taste.” Paige admitted. Her tongue swirling around Venus’s swollen clit, eyes looking up at her body. “I love how pretty you look like this.” Her choice of words was purposeful, telling Venus everything she loved about her as if it would excuse her inability to say those three words in the right order.

“Paige, shut the fuck up.” Venus whined. Her free hand forced her head deeper into her pussy, scratching at her scalp and tugging her roots roughly. “Just make me feel good, baby.” She drawled, slowing her eyes to close.

Paige moved her head side to side, practically at Venus’s mercy with the way she guided the blonde’s head. Her tongue dived into the deepest parts it could reach as Venus desperately pushed her in deeper. Paige let out a moan at the aggression and the arousal on her tongue.

Venus eventually let go, her body tingling as she pulled both hands away and gripped onto her sheets the thick blanker falling onto the blonde and Venus’s head falling back into her pillow.

She would never understand how each time they did this Paige would get even better than before. She found ways to garner reactions that Venus never experienced before. Her chest was heaving at the moment, hips raising off the bed and Paige had to hold her back down, nails digging into her skin.

“Fuck, it’s so good. Make me cum, daddy.” She moaned, grinding against the girl’s lips as best as she could until Paige sat up slowly, detaching herself from Venus’s pussy with a few kisses. She rose from under the sheets, giving a soft peck to Venus’s lips before licking her own clean.

She moved off the bed, much to Venus’s displeasure because her head fell back frustratingly. Navigated through the closet, she looked for and found the long purple strap-on that they had used more times than Paige could count on both hands. Venus watched as she discarded her boxers and fit it on.

“I love how much of a slut you are for me.” Paige finally spoke again, tapping the tip of the silicone onto Venus’s cunt, the sound echoing loudly through the room. The strap slowly broke into Venus’s pussy, the moan that left her mouth would ring in Paige’s ears for a lifetime. “Daddy’s pretty little slut.”

Her strokes were slow, giving Venus’s time to adjust to the length of her cock quite literally breaking her apart and the feeling of it against her g-spot. Then as soon as Venus reached to pull her closer, it was over. Paige’s thrusts sped up, her eyes glued to where they connected.

“I love strechin’ you out. Making you keep it open for me.” She spoke, holding Venus’s hip with one hand while the other held her leg to the side. Paige was so enamored with this view. She wanted it permanently engraved in her brain, burned into the back of her eyelids so she could see it whenever she closed her eyes.

“So big—” Venus moaned, scratching at Paige’s waist. The blonde leaned in close, pressing her lips to her neck where she sucked on the sensitive skin. Her palm moved to rest beside Venus’s head. Venus’s jaw fell slack, her arms wrapped snugly around Paige’s neck. “‘M so fuckin’ full, P.”

“Aww I know. But you take it so well.” Paige praised. Her lethal thrusts finally slowed down again, she rolled her hips so deep Venus saw stars. “Takin’ my cock so deep. You’re doin’ so good, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

She was right: it was so deep. The bulge very evident in Venus’s lower stomach. Paige nearly drooled at how tight Venus was against the strap, she swore she could feel it, making her clit throb as she grinded her hips against the back of the harness.

“Oh my God.” Venus whimpered, her hand pulling at Paige’s bra straps while Paige pushed down at her abdomen and fucked her hard. The combination of her deep stroke, the rough pace, and Paige’s large hand made Venus’s orgasm approach like a freight train. “Right there, yeah there. Fuck, yes!”

“You feel that? That’s all me.” Paige spoke cockily. She peered down briefly at where her cock moved in and out of Venus’s cunt, the sloppy mess she was making around the purple length. She wanted to taste it again, so bad. “Such a messy girl.” She teased before pulling out slowly.

“No, Paige. Stop fucking teasing me.” She whined, bucking her hips upward towards what she wanted most.

Paige ignored her, situating herself near the edge of the bed again and licking through Venus’s folds once again. Her eyes rolled at her lover’s taste, nose prodding at her pretty clit in a way that Venus could only describe as euphoric. “You gonna let me do what I want. You know why?” Paige mumbled into her cunt, feeding on the moans that left Venus and how those made her own cunt drip.

“Because you fuckin’ love me.”

Her plump pink lips wrapped around Venus’s clit, two fingers running through her slick as her other hand ran up her body and gripped her breast harshly. Paige slipped those two fingers inside, immediately curling them to the spot she had learned so well. “You love my voice, you love my tongue on this pussy.”

“Paige, I’m— gonna cum, shit!” Venus moaned, her legs slowly giving in around Paige’s head but the blonde didn’t seem to care, Venus’s pleasure more important.

She drove her fingers in deeper, twisting them and finding a new angle that made Venus mewl and writhe in her bed. Paige sucked harder, drawing Venus’s juices into her mouth before pulling away and spitting them back into her cunt until she was glistening. Her tongue lolled out to collect it again, eating Venus so well just as she had promised the night before.

I wanna eat you ‘til you’re begging me to stop. She promised she would. And she was.

Paige was so dedicated she didn’t even notice when Venus came with a cry of her name, she kept feasting on the girl’s over sensitive cunt and toying with her painfully hardened nipples and breaking her fingers in and out.

“Fuck! P-Paige!” Venus’s hand trailed to push her head away, her clit felt like it had a pulse of its own, an Paige knew she should stop, but Venus was just so wet and her moans were just so pretty. She didn’t even need to look at her face because Paige had seen the view so many times. She could nearly paint the picture of Venus’s back arched and eyebrows furrowed tight. The pout she would have on her face by now, combined with the sliver of drool that fell from the corner of her lip. Paige knew Venus like the back of her hand.

“Stop, fuck! I can’t take it, P!” Venus pushed a little harder and Paige sat up with the inevitable pop of her lips echoing off the walls.

She had never been so obsessed with the view of Venus desperately trying to catch her breath. It was so fucking hot. Venus was so fucking hot. She’d be a fool to let the girl go, especially now with her feelings growing to the size of a boulder in her chest.

Paige’s free hand held her cheeks together, forcing her mouth open as she allowed her spit to fall off her tongue and into Venus’s mouth before doing it a second time. Venus swallowed, keeping as much eye contact as she could through her lidded eyes.

Her lips puckered and Paige met them, their teeth clashing in the heated exchange. No words left their lips, just the occasional drunken smile and pornographic moan.

“Mmm turn over.” Paige instructed when she pulled away. Her fingers entering her mouth to lick the rest of Venus’s mess off of them before the soft fingertips tapped against Venus’s hip, assisting her in turning over and pressing a hand to the girls back to arch her the way she wanted.

The tip of the purple strap met her pussy again, teasing from her clit up to her hole which clenched and unclenched expectantly. “Say please.” The blonde joked.

“You’re such a bitch, Paige.” Venus breathed out, almost laughing but she didn’t find her joke funny in the slightest. She pushed her hips back, desperate for any type of connection. Paige’s eyes were glued to her, eating up the sight of her strap easing into Venus’s dripping cunt.

Paige’s lip found its way between her teeth as she drew her hips back, she let out a low whistle at the cream that covered the silicone before pushing back in. The rhythm the blonde found was fueled by that perfect arch in front of her and Venus’s sexy piercings in her lower back.

She was drunk off of it. Drunk on the girl’s moans, her ass rippling against her pelvis with each stroke. Her hands held onto Venus’s hips, pulling her back slightly to match her movements.

“Just like that, P. Mmm, fuck.” She groaned with her hands gripping at the sheets.

The athlete reached forward for Venus’s hair, the braids once neatly wrapped with her silk scarf now falling perfectly down her shoulders. Paige wrapped her hand around it in a makeshift ponytail before tugging, a cry of her name leaving Venus’s throat. Her large hand landed possessively on her ass once, twice, three times before griping the flesh softly.

“All I gotta do to get rid of that attitude is fuck you? You actin’ right now? Or am I still a bitch?” She murmured, and Venus could do nothing but moan. The multitude of sensations was too much to process at once.

Paige bottomed out, going deeper if possible. Her own clit was throbbing at the stimulation from the harness but she wanted to hold her own until Venus reached that peak again.

The tattooed girl couldn’t answer. Her eyes sinking to the back of her head as she repeatedly let out different variations of the same sounds.

“Fucking you stupid. Can’t even answer me, huh?” Paige coos, and Venus screams at how good it feels. “It’s still fuck me?”

“Oh, Paige. You feel so fuckin’ good.” Venus moaned while Paige’s pace stayed consistent, fucking her just right to get her close, keeping her on that edge. “I’m gonna cum. Wanna cum on your cock. Please, please.”

She practically manhandled her at that, tugging harder on Venus’s hair until her back met the flush of Paige’s chest. She held her there and dropped a hand to circle at her clit and Venus let out a gasp.

“Nah, hold it. Tell me what I wanna hear.” Paige said into her ear. Her lips met Venus’s neck kissing it softly as she pounded Venus’s life away, the strap nudging her g-spot with an insane amount of pressure. Just the way she needed it to. “Who do you love, ma?”

Venus attempted to avoid the question, wanting to stand her ground on the subject that led to Paige splitting into her like this in the first place. A “fuck!” escaping her mouth when Paige added more pressure to her clit, her juices leaking down her legs and the blonde’s doing the same thing.

“I wanna make you cum.” Paige started. Her face buried in Venus’s neck. Their bodies stuck together by the atmosphere of their sloppy morning indulgences. “Wanna feel you cum around my cock, Baby. Gonna fill you up so fucking deep. Make you a pretty mama. Just say it, and it’s all yours, V.”

It was manipulative. The way she babbled into Venus’s ears, not only fucking her to her release, but desperately searching for her own. Paige’s voice broke off into sinful moans, the hand once in Venus’s hair now clawing at the girl’s hips.

“Say that shit. Tell me you love me. Tell me it’s just me, I’m it for you.”

“I— fuck— I love you. I love you. Paige, I can’t anymore. Please.” Venus gave in, letting her head fall against the blonde’s shoulder as she accepted her fate.

“You can be louder than that.”

“I love you!”

The phrase scratched a certain itch in Paige’s brain. Making her nod into Venus’s neck groaning as she felt her own orgasm sneak behind her. “That’s what I thought. I love you more, mama. Cum, baby.”

The words run a thousand miles a minute in Venus’s head, turning her brain and body to mush and she screams as she comes. She can feel the smirk Paige leaves burned into her skin as she does so as well, covering the back of the strap in her own sinful substance. Venus collapses down onto the bed, thighs slightly shaking while Paige helps her ride it out.

“Stop.” She begs, or attempts to, pushing the girl’s hand away from her cunt. Paige curses lowly, saying something more to herself as she slips out of Venus’s sopping wet canal. Her orgasm covering the silicone in a sheer white that Paige moaned at again.

“You’re— a freak.” Venus tells her, a deep breath taken in between her words. Paige just laughs, disposing of the soiled strap on the edge of the bed and lying next to her. She can’t even think of how many hours must have passed because the sky was brighter than when they started and her phone was suddenly dinging with notifications.

The marks across Venus’s body are downright dirty, a painful painting of the love Paige had felt for her for months finally coming together alongside her other ink storylines. Hickeys decorated her neck and chest and hips and thighs. Wherever Paige could leave a mark she did; clearly.

She turned her head slightly falling in love with the way Paige looked looking at her. Eyes softer than she’s ever seen them. Her tanned skin flushed, with hairs framing her sculpted face. Pink lips full and swollen from biting them. She sported matching hickeys across her skin, some new and red, and others a deep purple from the night before.

“Hi.” Paige was the first to speak up.

“Hi, baby.” Venus grinned softly, her voice hoarse and throat aching.

She puckered her lips as she approached Venus, giving her forehead a short kiss and letting her lips rest there, “I love you. You hear me? You don’t get to leave now.” Her tone of voice was in a joking manner but Venus knew it was a genuine concern. To catch feelings for someone was one thing, but to open up to Venus like this was different. She didn’t want to get hurt again.

“I won’t. You’re mine and I’m yours.” Venus responded. Her decorated arms wrapped around Paige’s body, snuggling into her side and Paige cuddled her with a smile she couldn’t fight off even if she tried. “I love you.” The words were so foreign she felt no other choice but to repeat them until they stuck forever.

“I love you.” Paige replied, letting sleep finally take over her.

author’s note omg who wrote this… (ovulation week was hitting y’all idk what came over me here) this is the official final part for this short series, but i’m not opposed to writing more for venus and paige if you would like to see it! send me requests and thank you so much for all the love this past week, im feeling very appreciative! 😌

[enviedear]

you ate me right up, you spit me back out

⤷ jacaerys velaryon

- ˏˋ 🎧 1.8k words, minors dni  ˊˎ -

“you shouldn’t be out at this hour.” the voice calling out is deep, and even though you turn in their direction, you aren’t able to make them out. a mere rough outline remains, shrouded in the moons shadows. still, you know who stands before you.

“i thought you a prince, my love. not a ward.” you wish the sun was shining, you’re sure he has his usual smirk on his face. both unbecoming and perfectly poised. as are all things with your prince.

jacaerys steps closer, pebbles and fallen leaves sounding under his boots, “my betrothed leaves dinner in haste. her chambermaids unaware of her location—tell me,” a pause from him, filled by his hands finding home at your waist, “have i upset you?”

“no. never that, my love…” you trail off, fingers blindly following the embroidery of his coat. “i fear i am plagued with utter happiness. this is a time of war, yet my days ring with joy. it feels immoral.”

he hums, the sound reverberating to your fingers at his clavicle, “it shouldn’t. you should know i pray for such, for your joy. i’m glad the gods answer my prayers.”

your breath hitches slightly, “you have far more to pray for, my love.”

he presses his forehead against yours, “such as?” his tone is sweetly sardonic.

“your life. your throne. your kingdom.” the reminders of duty ring heavy, but you have a feeling jace is smiling despite.

a soft kiss to your temple, “i pray for all of that too. perhaps the gods are proving how well they answer.” another kiss, “does that help?”

you breathe him in, hints of smoke, sea salt, and grasses flood your senses. the smell of dragonriding lingers on him, you assume as long as he lives he won’t be able to rid himself of it.

“yes,” you say after a moment. “i relent. i will remain happy.”

your words are met with another deep hum from him, followed by a soft chuckle that vibrates through his chest into yours. it's a warm sound that always exudes comfort. he pulls back just enough to stare at you, his eyes barely reflecting the silvery light of the moon. in night’s pale glow, they seem almost otherworldly—like two shimmering oceans of liquid silver. "my sweet girl.” he murmurs, reaching to deftly trace his fingers along the exposed skin of your shoulders.

a gust of frigid night air carries the familiar scent of saltwater and briny air so commonplace on driftmark. you shiver slightly as the breeze nips through your nightgown, but don't pull away from his touch or his gaze. moments of this kind are precious, even if they’re ill-advised. the palace guards must be searching for you right now, both of you, worried about where their young couple has wandered off to at this late hour. a possibility you should have considered before taking your leave.

"should we go back?" you whisper, breath warm against his neck.

he chuckles softly, pulling you closer. "do you really want to?"

you hesitate for a moment before shaking her head. "no, not really. i don’t want this day to end yet."

his hands trail down her arms, leaving a line of goosebumps in their wake. you tremble again, but this time it’s not so much from the cold. he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "then i shall not allow for it. my beautiful bride, i only want you happy." he murmurs, voice low and smooth.

you hum at his praise, turning you face towards his. noses bump one another, and you fight a smile before leaning in. your lips met in a slow, tentative kiss. a kiss filled with longing—all the moments spend wishing to be alone together finally coming to fruition. still, you don’t let yourself get too taken by your betrothed’s saccharine lips. the both of you will have to retire and slip away to your own bedrooms soon. how you wish to share a room, to live as a married couple.

his hands move at your waist, pulling you closer still. you can feel the warmth of his body against your own, entrapping you against him. you’re sure you’ve never felt more at home. you card your fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss. he groans softly, one hand moving up to cup your breast. his thumb brushing against your nipple through the thin fabric of the nightgown, eliciting a gasp to break from your mouth.

you seperate, panting slightly. you peer up at him, eyes alight with desire. jacaerys’ brown eyes mirror your own, his hand still on your breast. "perhaps we should return.” he says softly, voice hinting.

you nod, taking his hand. you make your way back to the castle, steps slow and deliberate. jacaerys sneaks the both of you back into dragonstone, his hands remaining interlocked with yours.

as you make your way back to the castle, his hand tightens around your own. his grip is like a vice, making your pulse race. looking up at him through your lashes, eyes heavy with want. he leans in, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. there's no activity in the halls aside from the two of you, but still, your nerves scream out. this is all so unlike the both of you. jacaerys has never been so outward with affection—if anything it only adds to your desire.

his tongue darts out, teasing your lips apart, and you whine when he deepens the kiss. he pulls you closer, hands roaming over your body. His member presses insistent and hard against you and An intense ache of need uncoils within you. he groans into your mouth, breath hot and heavy.

"come with me." he whispers, his voice low and raspy. "spend the night in my bed."

you hesitate for a moment, but the need coursing through your veins makes it nearly impossible to resist. you nod, and jace grins, taking your hand and leading you to his chambers.

once inside, he shuts the door behind you and turns to face you. his eyes are even darker with the hue of lust. jacaerys steps closer, slowly. you almost feel like one of the sheep offered up to his family's dragons, unassuming and naive. he stops right in front of you, hands gently dipping underneath your nightgown. he slowly undresses you, his hands shaking slightly as he slides your dress off your shoulders.

jacaerys always takes you like a man starved. in a way, he is. without the war, the two of you would be happily married—should be relishing in the joy of naive nuptials. but you aren't. so he kisses at your neck hungrily, lips leaving a trail of heat on your skin. his hands cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples. you moan, your head falling onto his shoulder as he continues his sacrilege.

he pushes you gently onto the plush bed, his body covering yours. he reaches between your legs. his fingers find you wet and ready, and he groans. "you're always so perfect." he whispers, breath hot against your ear. "do you want me, dōna ābrazȳrys?"

you nod, unable to speak, feeling the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, you feel drunken, as if you had consumed the entire castles’ supply.

"say it." he commands, voice rough. "tell me you want me."

"i want you." you manage, voice trembling with need.

with a growl, he thrusts into you, filling you completely. jacaerys moves inside you, his pace slow and deliberate. he watches you closely, his eyes never leaving yours. you can feel every bit of him, like an indelible brand. the heat and weight of his body on top of yours. each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, making you arch your back. you grab at him, his muscles clenching under your touch.

his hands grip onto your hips, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. an absolutely lurid scene. his breath is hot on your neck, teeth nipping at your skin as he drives you both closer to the edge. you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper inside you.

"you feel so good." he grunts, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "so perfect."

you moan as his thrusts pick up pace, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his. the bed creaks beneath you, the furs beneath you tangling around your legs as you arch your back to meet his movements. the smell of sweat and sex fill the air, mixed with the faint scent of dragon smoke that clings to him. his hips slide against yours, pressing into you as he takes you deeper and deeper. your breasts bounce with each thrust, nipples pebbled from the cool air on your heated skin.

jacaerys's breathing becomes ragged, his mouth finding yours once more in a passionate kiss, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. he tastes of honeyed wine and seasalt, divine. jacaerys growls into the kiss, tongues dancing together as he drives harder into you. the bed thumps against the wall in time with your grunts and moans, echoing through the otherwise silent castle halls.

"jacaerys." you moan, the sound barely audible among the creaking bed and the panting of your breaths.

he grunts in response, his fingers dig into your hips as he desperately tries to hold back. the bed groans beneath you, the cold stone floor sharp with the sound. his fingers dig into your hips, holding you close, making you feel a part of him.

"so close, dōna ābrazȳrys." he growls out, his voice hoarse. "so fucking close."

you gasp, your orgasm about to break free. the feeling consumes you, spreading through your body like wildfire, consuming you in its wake. your nails dig into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. as the pleasure builds inside you, jacaerys pulls away from the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone. you can feel the heat building in your core, every nerve on fire from his touch. you come undone with a loud gasp followed by your lover’s name, repeated like a prayer.

jace isn’t far behind and when he finally reaches his climax, you feel him tense inside you. his body shuddering as he releases himself deep within you. his hot seed pulses out of him, filling you completely before pulling out with a low groan. you gasp at the sudden loss of him, missing the fullness. with a loud sigh, he collapses on top of you, hearts pounding in unison.

he rolls onto his side carefully so as not to crush you under his weight and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your fingers ascend instinctively, brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, your fingers lingering on his skin.

he looks at you with a satisfied smile, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. as he moves closer, his body radiates heat and you feel his strong arms wrap around your waist. you lean into him, enjoying the comforting feeling of being held in his embrace. the sound of his steady breaths like a lullaby, and you sink into the blissful calm of slumber.

[7s3ven]

NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt. 2

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… Y/N is finally claimed by her father, who turns out to be Zeus. Now, she’s stuck in an empty cabin as the only forbidden child of Zeus. Luke, on the other hand, is thrilled to be playing her knight in shining armour and getting her through each lonely day.

“I’m in the wind, you’re in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

( follows the show - kind of just a oneshot bc i’m bored )

Warnings : a little bit of jealousy, arguing, Y/N being indecisive and confused (real), not proof-read

—

TAG LIST : @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @csifandom @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @jennapancake @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @kkrenae

I really hope this part is good enough 🙏

—

Being claimed was perhaps worse than staying in the Hermes cabin. The Zeus cabin was completely empty, much to Y/N’s dismay. Percy was unlucky enough to be a forbidden child too. Looks like neither of them would be having any half-siblings.

“I always knew she was destined for greatness.” Clarisse would say as if the life of a forbidden child wasn’t lonely and utterly isolated.

“Knock, knock.”

But there was one person who could light up the dim Zeus cabin.

“Hope you don’t mind that I brought strawberries. I picked ‘em myself. It was not easy work, let me tell you.” Luke chuckled as he walked in, shutting the door behind him. “Nice place.” He sarcastically said, staring at the cobwebs that littered the walls.

Y/N stared at him, unimpressed and unamused. “Being claimed was supposed to feel great. But I’m just back at square one again.” She huffed and took a strawberry Luke offered her. He sat beside Y/N, gesturing her to continue.

“You know, at least the Hermes cabin had another people. I’m stuck in this deserted cabin because my father finally decided that he wanted to see me! All I’m wondering is why it took so long. Why bother claiming me now?! Percy got claimed in under five days. I know people who have been claimed in one. Why did it take me ten years?! At least I know why I always attract trouble now. It’s because Zeus, that utter man whore, is my dad!”

Luke’s eyebrows silently raised at her words. “You’re welcome in the Hermes cabin any time, Y/N. Don’t forget that. I don’t think your dad was ignoring you… he was probably just waiting.”

“Yeah. Waiting until I finally proved myself to him. Because a child of Zeus should be a prodigy. No normal feat is allowed. It has to be impressive to gain his attention. How dumb.” Y/N scoffed.

“I was fine without him. I’ve gone my entire life never hearing from him and after ten years of being at camp, suddenly he wants to play daddy? He should’ve left me alone. But hey, at least you guys have more room in the Hermes cabin. I heard Chiron was going to move me.”

“What? But you’re practically part of the family. I mean, not exactly. It’d be weird if we were related because… you know… we’re friends and being such good friends with siblings seems weird.” Luke spoke so fast that Y/N couldn’t understand him.

She silently stared at him. “… You’re weird. Chiron just wanted to make more room for the newcomers. And, you know, I had been there for so long that I wasn’t considered new.”

“You okay, though? Your cuts aren’t still hurting? You don’t feel sick, right?” Luke carefully inspected her face and bruised arms, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Luke, I’m fine.” She reassured him, laughing. “Nothing hurts anymore.”

“Guess I’ve got to let you win the next game now.” He sighed. “I can’t believe you guessed Poseidon and got it right.”

“I took a wild guess. I wasn’t expecting it to be correct.”

Luke shrugged and stood up. “I need to go check up on some kids. A new group just arrived. Will you be alright by yourself? I can always go get Clarisse.”

Y/N stared up at him and a part of Luke wished she would ask him to stay. To stay in the stuffy cabin and just… talk.

“I think I need some alone time right now.” She softly smiled, resisting the urge to ask him not to walk out, to keep her company. “I just need to process all the shit that went down.”

Luke chuckled, ruffling her hair. “That’s my girl.” He began to walk away before he turned around last minute. “Hey, Y/N… thanks for staying by my side.”

“No problem. Thanks for being my friend, Luke.”

With a wounded heart and the embarrassment of being friend-zoned hanging high over his head, Luke walked out of the Zeus cabin.

Y/N didn’t see Luke again until a few days later. He was always so busy with the new kids but he still had time to leave a small box of strawberries on her porch.

It was dinner when Y/N could finally speak to Luke. She smiled at him and subtly waved and he grinned back. He had been talking with Chris about a boring topic but his eyes lit up when he saw Y/N. Luke stood up to sit with her before he was quickly intercepted.

“Luke.” One of the new girls said, staring up at him with her big doe eyes. She was claimed the moment she stepped into camp by Aphrodite. She seemed to already be her mother’s favourite. “Are you free to sit with me and my friends? We want to ask you a few questions.”

Luke was pulled away by the girl, leaving Y/N to watch him sheepishly grin. Y/N’s smile faltered. “I think he’s avoiding me.” She muttered to Percy, resting her cheek on the palm of her hand. She felt a twisted knot of jealousy well up as a girl giggled and grabbed Luke’s arm. And he let her.

The younger boy looked up in confusion. “Who? Luke? I don’t think so. Girls just seem to really like him.”

Y/N frowned but didn’t say anything else. She could only stare again as the girls around Luke laughed as he uttered something with a bashful smile.

“I’m turning in early.” Y/N said, standing up. She pushed her plate of dessert towards Percy, who slowly took it.

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah. I’m not feeling well so I think I’m going to sleep early. Good night, Percy.” She deeply inhaled as she walked away, catching Luke’s attention.

“Excuse me, ladies. I’ll be back. I need to talk to someone.” He hurriedly got up, racing after Y/N. Percy, who was eating his second serving of cake, muffled a laugh. Luke was so whipped.

“Y/N.” The brunette boy finally caught up to her. He grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “Why are you leaving early? We haven’t talked for weeks so I thought we could use today to catch up.”

Y/N stared at him in confusion before she turned her head and quietly laughed. She covered her mouth to conceal the noise. “Luke… it’s only been three days.”

His face dropped and he cleared his throat. “I know… I was testing you. That’s all.” Yet his eyes looked at everything but Y/N. “So, how has your cabin been?”

“Lonely. It doesn’t feel the same without Chris ranting about Clarisse.” Y/N sighed, lightly biting the inside of her cheek.

“I’m not sure if I can rant about Clarisse like Chris but I could try keeping you company.” Luke offered, gazing at Y/N with eyes that begged her to agree.

She merely shrugged, not stopping Luke from strutting into her cabin and lying down on her bed. He outstretched his arms, confusing Y/N. “Hug.” Was all he said.

Y/N was never much of an affectionate person but Luke certainly was. His gestures ranged from secretly fiddling with her fingers to picking her up and swinging her around in the middle of the battle arena.

Begrudgingly, Y/N closed the distance between them. Luke grinned, pulling her closer. A few moments later, Y/N attempted to pull away. Luke prevented her from doing so. “Five more minutes.” He whispered in her ear.

But those promised five minutes turned into an hour.

And a peaceful hour turned into all night.

And all night turned into the sun rising and Clarisse waking the pair up.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Luke.” The Ares girl snickered, folding her arms over her chest. “Your siblings are wondering where you went. I assume by the lack of clothes on the floor that you two did nothing. How surprising for you, Luke.”

“Clarisse.” Y/N warned, sitting up.

“Okay, okay. I’m going. See you at breakfast, Y/N.” Clarisse sent her friend a teasing wink before she slithered off, laughing to herself.

“Sorry. I fell asleep.” Luke muttered, stretching. He not-so-subtly placed an arm around Y/N and when she didn’t shove him away, he smiled.

“It’s fine. I’ve already prepared myself for whatever gossip is about to spread around camp.” Y/N leaned back, shaking her head, while Luke chuckled.

“Nothing we haven’t dealt with before.” Luke retorted.

Camp Half-Blood seemed obsessed with the little thing going on between Y/N and Luke. Friendship, romance, confusing situationship. The campers called it many things.

“I’m so tired.” Y/N muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. Luke took that as his chance to gaze at her. His eyes traced over the bridge of her nose and the curve of her Cupid’s bow.

He smiled to himself, pressing his face deeper into the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Luke. We need to get up.” As if suddenly uncomfortable with his close proximity, Y/N stood up.

“Oh. Yeah. I know how you can’t miss breakfast because you get cranky without it.” Luke chuckled while Y/N shoved him.

“Get out, Luke!” Y/N exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him. He bellowed out a laugh as he ran towards the exit.

“See you at breakfast, sweetheart!”

Y/N, with flushed cheeks and a racing mind, barged into the Ares cabin. “Clarisse.” She said, holding onto the doorframe for support. “I need your help.”

“What do you need?” Clarisse questioned as they walked side by side. Y/N sighed.

“Well, for starters, Luke is acting weird. I mean, he was always kind of weird but it’s gotten… more extreme. He’s getting so close and… calling me these pet names. What am I supposed to do? And why does it make me feel shy? Clarisse, help me!”

Y/N gripped her friend’s shoulders tightly. Clarisse lightly snorted. “Y/N, he’s just in love. Let the boy be.”

“In… love? W-With… me? In love with me?!” Y/N’s mind was spinning by now and it looked like this was her mid-life crisis. “He’s not… he can’t be… no… no… No! I have to go, Clarisse!”

Clarisse watched as Y/N sprinted off with the speed of a lightning bolt. “Haha. It’s so fun messing with them.”

“Hey, Clarisse. What’d you say to Y/N?” Luke immediately filled in Y/N’s spot. He furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at Y/N.

“I just told her how in love you are with her.” Clarisse winked and laughed at Luke’s appalled face.

“You… did what?” He questioned, panicking. “Why… why would you do that?! Clarisse! Shit!”

Luke, just like Y/N, rushed off. Clarisse smiled again. “So fun.”

Y/N hid within the comforts of her own cabin. She was supposed to teach some of the newbies archery but she was sure Clarisse could fill in for her.

“Luke… in love with me… no way.” She shook her head and deeply sighed, clutching onto her blanket. “He likes that Aphrodite girl.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Speak of the devil. Luke opened the door, grinning at her. “Sorry I’m late. I tried meditating but I ended up falling asleep.” Classic him. “I brought you some food. I gotta teach some kids sword-fighting soon but I thought I’d just leave this here.”

Luke had one leg out of the door before Y/N stopped him. “Luke, can you maybe, I don’t know… stay over tonight? Again? It feels less lonely with you.” Y/N spoke slowly, as if testing the waters.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. Sure. I’d be happy to keep you company. You can count on me, Sparky.”

Y/N scoffed, staring at Luke with her lips parted. “Sparky? No way are you calling me that.”

“Too bad. See ya, Sparky!” Luke managed to close the door before the pillow Y/N tossed his way hit him. She scoffed, looking around yet no words came out of her mouth.

“Sparky… Sparky?!” Y/N exclaimed in disbelief. “What sort of nickname is that?!”

Luke, who stood outside the door and heard Y/N, chuckled. He ran his tongue over his teeth, “Cute.”

A quiet knock on the door interrupted Y/N’s half-conscious nap. She stumbled to the entrance, slowly twisting the knob. “Hey.” She mumbled to Luke, who was holding an armful of snacks.

“Hey, Sparky.” He greeted her with his usual boyish smile. “Did I wake you?”

“I was just taking a small nap. You can always let yourself in, by the way.” Y/N muttered, yawning.

“I didn’t wanna be rude.” Luke replied as he stepped inside, brushing past Y/N. “Hey. I have an idea.” He suddenly said, spinning around. Y/N raised her eyebrows, gesturing him to continue. “I know you don’t like hanging out in this cabin so what do you say we check out the lake?”

“That’s breaking the rules.” Y/N said, shaking her head.

“Come on, I wanna go on a walk. And I’m already breaking rules being here. A few more can’t hurt.”

Y/N wanted to say no but how could she when Luke was looking at her like that?

“Fine.” She softly agreed. Luke dropped the snacks onto Y/N’s bed before dragging her out of her cabin. She didn’t even have time to grab a jacket.

Luke placed a finger over his lips, telling Y/N to be quiet. The two carefully creeped through the words, quietly giggling as they shoved each other.

“It’s prettier at night.” Y/N whispered, staring at the lake that sparkled in the moonlight. Luke smiled, nodding his head.

“Yeah.” He replied, but he wasn’t looking at the glittering water. He was looking at Y/N. “It’s absolutely beautiful.”

Y/N turned her head, faltering when she saw that Luke was already gazing at her. His lips curved into a bright smile.

“So, so… beautiful.” He repeated, staring into her eyes.

“Luke.” She muttered, thickly gulping. Butterflies swirled around in her stomach. After years of pushing down her growing feelings for Luke, they were coming back.

“Y/N.” He chuckled, adjusting his stance. But he slipped and fell into the lake. Y/N gasped, staring into the murky darkness.

“Luke?” She called out. “Luke!” He resurfaced, spitting out a mouthful of water. A few moments passed before Y/N burst into laughter. She stepped forward but tripped over a stray tree root. She hit the water with a loud slap, shocking Luke. He gasped, quickly swimming over. “Sparky, you good?” Luke questioned, holding her tightly.

She coughed. “It hurt a little but I’m good. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for asking, Sparky.” He twirled a strand of Y/N’s wet hair around his finger, his gaze flickering to her lips. “Don’t kill me for this, Y/N.” He whispered, leaning forward.

His lips pressed against Y/N’s, who froze in shock. The kiss only lasted a moment before Luke pulled away, holding back the animalistic urge to do it again.

“I won’t kill you… if you don’t kill me.” Y/N quietly responded, grabbing Luke by the front of his shirt and tugging him forward.

The second kiss was less controlled, more wild. Luke held Y/N tightly, scared she would slip away if he lowered his guard. In this moment, Luke didn’t care about his drenched t-shirt or his soaking hair. All he cared about, and had cared about for the last few years, was the girl in front of him

“You kissed?!” Clarisse screamed, tugging on the ends of her curled hair.

“Hey! I don’t want everybody to know!” Y/N hurriedly shushed the girl. They were hanging around in the arena for some extra sword training and Y/N clumsily mentioned last night.

“Okay, but seriously. Reel back. You guys kissed? Not once, but twice? Oh, man, Y/N. You are so whipped for Luke!”

“I am not! Besides,” Y/N fidgeted with her fingers as she spoke, “I heard one of the new Aphrodite girls is interested in Luke.”

“What? And you’re just gonna let her have him? You’ve been crushing on Luke since you first saw him.”

“I wouldn’t call it that! It was admiration.” Y/N quickly snapped to defend herself. Clarisse mockingly raised an eyebrow.

“You couldn’t stop gushing over how he pushed you out of harm’s way when you got claimed.” The Ares kid pointed out.

Y/N huffed. “I mean, I’m a feminist, obviously. But… I wouldn’t really mind him saving me. I’m not entirely opposed… to the idea. I’m just torn, okay?!”

“What are you confused about? Luke obliviously has the hots for you too.”

“Luke and I have been good friends for ages! I’ve known him for ages too! If we start dating and it goes up in flames… I don’t only lose a partner but I also lose a friend! There’s so many factors to consider. So many things that could go wrong.”

“You already kissed. Sooner or later, he’s gonna confront you.” Clarisse’s eyes flickered to a figure behind Y/N, “And looks like he chose now. You wanna talk to him or do you want me to make a distraction?”

“Distraction, please. I’m not ready. I need to understand my own feelings before dealing with his.” Y/N practically begged Clarisse. Being such a good friend, the daughter of Ares nodded.

“I got your back, girl.” She walked past Y/N, blocking Luke’s path. “Yo, Luke, you interested in having a little spar?”

“Uh, actually, I need to talk to Y/N.” Luke uttered, glancing over at the H/C-haired girl.

“Y/N needs to check on someone. One of the Ares kids got badly injured. You go ahead, Y/N. I’ll be with you soon.” Clarisse waved her off. Y/N silently hurried off, avoiding all eye contact with Luke.

She wasn’t ready to face him just yet. I mean, what do you say to a friend you kissed? More like made out with. And passionately, might I add. Beside a lake at night.

Y/N knew Luke would go looking for her an hour before curfew, so that’s exactly why she sought refuge in the Ares cabin.

“This feels stupid.” She murmured as she rolled under one of the bed, shooing the dust away.

“He’s obviously going to try and ask Clarisse about your whereabouts. You only have to hide under there until he leaves.” Erin, a girl who was a year younger than Y/N, spoke. As predicted, Luke knocked at the door.

“Hey.” He said when Erin swung it open. “Is Y/N or Clarisse here? I need to talk to ether of them but Y/N would be preferred.”

Erin shook her head. “No. Clarisse is showering right now. Maybe check Apollo’s cabin for Y/N. She might be helping out with the injured. She does that sometimes.”

The second Luke disappeared, Y/N crawled out from under the bed. She combed away the dust in her hair. “I know what you’re thinking.” She grumbled, looking up at Erin. “Why am I going through all this trouble? It’s complicated. I’m not ready to face him… yet.”

Erin hummed as she stepped towards Y/N. “None of us will be helpful with advice but if you really want help, visit the Aphrodite cabin.”

That’s how Y/N found herself standing on a porch decorated with pink and hearts and shining pearls. She sighed to herself before she hesitatingly knocked. A short blond girl answered the door immediately.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” She said while Y/N stared at her in discomfort. “Not in a creepy way, though. I swear. We knew you’d need help with you-know-who so we kind of planned it already. Come in.”

The girl warmly guided Y/N inside, beaming. “Our head counsellor isn’t here at the moment but Mai should be plenty of help!” The blond girl pointed over to a brunette who sat on her bed, reading a book. She was dressed in black shorts and a pink crop top. But when Mai looked up, Y/N was sure she was judging her.

“On second thought,” Y/N nervously said, “Maybe I should come back another time. Maybe in the afternoon?”

“The time you come doesn’t matter.” Mai piped up, closing her book. She gazed at Y/N curiously. “You’re afraid of expressing your feelings, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t know this was a therapy session.” Y/N lightly joked.

“Y/N, it’s obvious to everybody that you harbour some feelings towards Luke.” Mai said, pressing her pink-tinted lips into a thin line. “You guys are like the dynamic duo. I understand that dating someone who’s also a friend is scary but sometimes you’ve got to take the risk.”

“If you’re scared about going back to your cabin and running into Luke, you can crash here for the night.” The blonde girl from before offered. Nobody else seemed to have any problems with that so Y/N agreed.

She ended up on the bunk next to Mai, her unlicensed love therapist. Y/N tossed and turned but she still couldn’t fall asleep. She quietly groaned, rubbing her eyes.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Mai piped up, pursing her lips.

“No. I can’t help but worry.”

“Let me ask you one question, Y/N. Do you like him?”

“Luke?”

“I didn’t say a name.”

Y/N groaned again. “Fine. You got me. Yes. I guess I like him. I like his smile and how he’s always giving me food and how he barges in when I’m feeling lonely. I think his curled hair is adorable and there’s no other guy better-looking than him to me. But… I’m scared that I just like his platonically. Or what if we do date and I end up losing him?”

Mai smiled. “Don’t stress over it too much. You’re the daughter of Zeus, after all.”

“Yeah, thanks. Good night, Mai.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Luke approached Y/N the next day at breakfast. He let out a subtle sigh of relief when she didn’t run away. “Hey,” He whispered to her, tapping her shoulder and interrupting her conversation with Erin and Clarisse. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“Uh, yeah.” Y/N exchanged looks with both of the girls, who nodded and mouthed good luck. “What did you want to talk about?” Y/N asked when they were in the safety of her cabin and away from all the prying eyes. She played with the hem of her bright orange shirt.

“Forgive me for how blunt I’m going to be but what are we, Y/N?” Luke asked, not beating around the bush.

“We’re friends.” Y/N choked out, her conversation with Mai last night going down the drain. Perhaps it was selfish but a part of her wanted to remain friends because at least that way, neither of them would get hurt.

“No.” Luke wildly shook his head, “Friends don’t kiss. Friends don’t spend the night in the other’s cabin. Friends don’t look at each other like we do. Friends don’t sneak out in the middle of the night to go to a lake and end up making out! And now you’re ignoring me!”

His voice increased in volume the more he spoke.

“That was a mistake, Luke! I-I didn’t meant to! It just happened! I’m not ignoring you! What makes you think that?!”

“Well, what am I supposed to think, Y/N? You’re always running off and our conversations are up and down now. Sometimes we don’t talk for days! Sometimes you seem obsessed with me! I don’t know what to think!”

“That’s rich, coming from you!” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “If you’re not with Chris then you’re with that Aphrodite girl! You practically ignore me when you’re with her!” Y/N harshly poked his chest.

“I do not! And back to the previous conversation, was it really a mistake? Was hugging me a mistake? Was staring so adoringly at me a mistake? Was kissing me a mistake?! Maybe it was a mistake to you, but it wasn’t to me.” Luke caressed her face, holding it tightly. “Kissing you… will never be a mistake to me. Never, ever.”

Y/N gulped, practically shaking in Luke’s embrace. His lips lightly brushed her’s and she flinched.

“Sparky- Princess- Y/N,” He finally decided on what to call her in the heated moment. “I have feelings for you. And I have for a long time. So if you don’t like me back… just tell me. Because I can’t spend the rest of my life chasing after you. I get that you might be in denial but once I walk through those doors, I’m giving up.”

“Luke…”

“Do you like me or not?”

“Luke… please…” Y/N didn’t really know what she was begging for. Tears welled up in her eyes as he took a small step towards the door.

“Do you like me or not?” He repeated in a firmer tone.

Y/N silently stared at the ground, her hands clenched into fists.

“I guess I was wrong about you returning my feelings… I’m sorry for bothering you. I’ll leave now.”

Y/N’s body moved on its own as she reached out to grab his arm and harshly pull him back. Her voice was supposed to be gentle but hanging out with Clarisse seemed to have an impact on her.

“Of course I like you, Luke! How could I not? But I’m afraid and confused and I don’t know what to do. I see the way other girls look at you. They like you. And I’m scared that I don’t stand a chance against them. And what if we mess up, Luke? If we date then break up, we won’t be able to be friends again. I can’t handle that!”

“I don’t think I can be just friends with you right now, Y/N.” Luke softly replied, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pressing a light kiss to it. Y/N stared at him with flushed cheeks. “I don’t care about any of those other girls. The only person I care about is you. We don’t have to rush into a relationship but I just need to hear you say that you like me. That’s all I need for now. Can you do that for me?”

Y/N shakily inhaled. “I…” She hesitated. “I like you, Luke.”

Luke pulled her into a hug, smiling as he inhaled the sweet scent of Y/N’s perfume. “That’s all I needed to hear, Sparky.”

[wandaslittleweirdo]

Liar

part 1: precious || masterlist

⋆⋆౨ৎ pairing: 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢!𝚐𝚏!𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 ༝༝ 𝚏𝚎𝚖!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

summary: The truth always comes to light, even if the liar has done everything in their power to try and keep you from it.

warnings: dubcon, smut, mind control, top!wanda, manipulation/gaslighting, drama tehe, strap usage (R recieving), voyeurism, strap blowjob (W recieving), reader sucks wandas fingers (can you tell I have insane oral fixation?), pet names, small mix of praise kink and degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, strap referred to as dick, Stockholm syndrome, age gap > r is 20 w is 32

A/N: this is absolute filth. but fics r all about imagination and having fun, no one will ever stop me from sharing my disgusting thoughts with the internet

+

this is a dark fic. 18+. wlw. men & minors dni!

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

It’s been two months since the night of your abduction. You’ve been staying with Wanda and have never been happier.

You remember the day you woke up in her cabin. You were frightened and confused, but she was patient and her peaceful nature soothed you. She carefully explained everything, why you were in her cabin, why you could barely walk, and why you had that cut on your cheek.

You were attacked and chased into the woods. She was your knight and shining armour who had found you laying unconscious in the crunchy autumn leaves while she was hunting. You also vividly recall saying you’d do anything to show how thankful you are, her lips pulling into a big goofy smile.

“Anything, you say?”

And it all just went up from there.

The thought of your life before Wanda never crossed your mind. She always kept you on your toes. One day you’re hiking up mountains with her and the next she’s teaching you how to shoot her shotgun.

“Bam! You got all of the targets first try! That was incredible, Y/N.”

But you didn’t need shooting a gun or slumping your way up mountains to feel like you’re on your toes. Cooking dinner together, watching new shows, going to sleep tangled in each others arms or swimming in the nearby waterfall was just as invigorating, because she made it so.

Wanda took you in and loved you. She feeds you, she shelters you, she protects you. She makes you feel safe and treats you like a princess.

Throughout your bliss, there was only one thing that constantly bothered you. A frustrated thought you kept trying to shove away, but would always float back at some point.

You weren’t allowed to leave the cabin.

Of course, the hunting and the walks were okay, but you could never see what was going on outside of the woods unless it was through the news or Wanda herself. You couldn’t step foot out of the house without Wanda following close behind. When you really acknowledge it, you describe the feeling as if you’re on display, constantly being spied on and never having the privacy every human craves.

Whenever you bring up the fact that she watches you or follows you at seemingly unnecessary times, she explains that it would be rude if you told her she’s being invasive when she’s just protecting you.

She also claims everything outside of the woods is disgusting and you aren’t missing out. She says people are cold and heartless, nothing but a bunch of soul dead blobs walking in their black and white reality everyday.

But in the most peaceful moments, like right now where your arms are wrapped around her torso and your legs tied around one of hers, imitating the position of a clingy koala, everything else doesn’t seem to matter. She gently rakes her hand through your hair and randomly pinches your cheeks, but both sets of eyes remain on the TV.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. We have so much fun together, no one ever goes out and does things anymore! Trust me. Nothing out there is as good as what’s here.”

You reminisce the conversation you had with her the other day, your heart warming as her persuasive words echo through your mind.

Wanda’s right. This is good… I don’t need anyone but her.

“Sweetheart, I have to go to the store. We don’t have any milk or bread.” She taps the top of your head gently, silently asking you to sit up but you only whine and clutch onto her harder. You rub your nose into her soft v neck sweater, feeling her stomach tense as she lets out a dry laugh. “Come on, angel. I’m just getting milk I’ll be home before you know it.”

“That’s what my dad said.” You murmur into the wool. She gasps playfully at your humour, a tiny smile on her lips as she flicked the back of your head in an act to scold you. “Don’t joke about stuff like that miss!”

“No! It’s how I cope.” You rub the back of your head and pout at her, reluctantly sitting up onto your knees while an unhappy crease sits itself between your brows. Her smile widens as she gazes at you, nothing but adoration swimming in those viridescent irises.

She pushes your dishevelled hair out of your face and leans in slowly, eyes fixated on your lips. Her kiss is as gentle as ever, her fingers curling around the back of your neck to pull you closer. Every complaint you were ready to throw at her suddenly slips your mind, and all you can think about is how soft her lips feel moving against yours. The hair framing her face smells of her green apple shampoo, a specific something you grew to obsess over.

“Oookay, have to go now.” She pulls back and swiftly puts herself on her feet. She happily escorts herself over to the door to grab her coat and slip her shoes on, the cocky smile never leaving her face.

You fall face forward into the couch while making various irritated and disapproving grumbles. She slides her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, her smile distorting into a sort of impish grin when she specifically hears the words,

“You’re evil, Wanda.”

“Maybe, but you love it.” She laughs softly before slinging her purse over her shoulder and opening the door.

“See you soon, princezná!” You huff at the sound of the door shutting followed by the click of the lock. You could continue to watch a movie… or you could go into your girlfriends closet and steal her clothes.

Excitement starts brewing inside of you as you spring up from the couch and run into your shared bedroom. You yank the closet door open, taking the sleeve of one of her hoodies and rubbing your face into it. The faint smell of sandalwood and a sweet-spicy cinnamon still lingers on it, and now all you can think of is drowning yourself in the mouth watering autumn scent.

You pluck out a red flannel shirt and a dark blue pair of jeans. But as you flip through her many pieces of clothing, a cardboard box in the corner of her top shelf catches your eye. You frown and push yourself onto your tippy toes, groaning and stretching your limbs until you could finally grasp the package.

The box is covered in a thin layer of dust indicating it hasn’t been touched in a while. You giggle excitedly, box in hand as you run over to your shared bed and make yourself comfortable.

We tell each other everything, she must have some dirty secrets in here..

You place your hand on the lid of the laptop, prepared to open it until a sting of guilt stops you. Your excitement fades into adrenaline as you nervously tap your foot against the carpeted floor.

She’ll tell me about this eventually, right?

But she’s had so many opportunities to say something…

Fuck it.

A puzzled expression takes over your features seeing the computer had only nine screens open. They’re all at least 360p, tv static glitching out a video every five or so seconds. Then you notice where the cameras were pointing too. One in Wanda’s room, one covering the area of her living room, one facing towards the kitchen and the others scattered around outside.

Security cameras?

Your eyes flicker to the red circle flashing in the top left corner of the screen, the capital letters “LIVE” typed in next to it. Then, just below that, an even smaller text with todays date. You click it and a list of options pop up, scrolling down and seeing she installed them in 2015.

You excitedly flip back to two months ago, the day you and Wanda met. You can watch your love unfold all over again but now from a different perspective.

You giddily scrub through the timeline and watch yourself wander around outside, then fast forwarding again until Wanda walks to the door and opens it to you. Your brows pinch together; you don’t seem hurt at all and you’re clearly not unconscious. In fact, you seem wary of her.

Your curiosity heightens as you quietly observe yourself take a seat on her couch and sit there, tapping your lap awkwardly. You skip further ahead and stop when you see Wanda jump onto you. Your hand flies over your mouth, the sickening realisation starting to dawn on you.

She lied to me…

How did I forget everything?

You drag the little dot further through the video, your heart thudding in your ears. A red glow in the darkness of her room causes the frown on your face to deepen and you to scroll back.

You almost forget how to breathe when you see red wisps escape the fingertips of your beloved girlfriend, the red seeping it’s way through the side of your forehead and infecting your unconscious mind.

She does this continuously for minutes, destroying every thought in your head. Your opinions, beliefs and judgments so she can start off with a clean canvas. Everything from your old life comes rushing back, your memories flashing at you like big bright billboards on 2x speed.

Your childhood, your parents divorcing, your bullies in high school and more specifically— the night you met Wanda. Surrounded by tall, thin, white bark trees as the echo of your own voice called after something or someone named Daisy. The disorientation and utter sadness you felt wandering aimlessly. The anxiety you felt in the pit of your stomach while walking up to Wanda’s cabin. Everything that happened that night, including her handing you the drink to then ordering you to put it down.

Clover-

Frankie?

Daisy…

Wanda.

“Y/N! I’m back!” You gasp, quickly blinking away the tears that rimmed your eyes. You slam the computer shut and shove it in its box, clumsily dropping the lid back on and running to put it back into her closet.

You just shut the door when Wanda’s voice startles you from the doorway.

“You okay honey? You look shaken.” You take a step back when she advances, almost like a reflex or a flinch, and it does not go unnoticed by her. She squints ever so slightly, her head tipping to the side.

I don’t know this woman. I need to leave. Now.

“Yeah I’m okay I just.. stubbed my toe.” She tuts, walking over to you and snakes her arms around your waist. “Aww, my poor baby. I bought strawberries though, will that cheer you up?” She whispers into your head and you melt, fingers twitching against the material of her soft coat.

My Wanda..

“T-Thank you, Wands.” This is Wanda. The loving, beautiful and generous Wanda you fell for. But she erased your whole life so she could cage you and keep you for herself.

Don’t get swayed by strawberries! Focus!

She whispers a sweet I love you before kissing your head and turning around. She picks up a thick knitted cardigan laying on the bed and throws it to you. “It’s cold, put this on and I’ll go light a fire.”

She waltzes out of the door and down the short hallway, leaving you a big, confused ball of nerves.

~

Wanda switches on the TV and invites you to sit next to her. You don’t say anything and accept, seating yourself by her no matter how on edge you feel because Wanda knows you. She can tell when you’re hiding something, and if you don’t want to sit next to her after begging her to stay home, something is obviously wrong.

Wanda watches the movie like she normally would. Laughing here and there, playing with your hair or placing a friendly hand on your thigh. You on the other hand have no idea what’s happening in the movie because your mind is racing with thoughts on what you should be doing.

Do I confront her? Do I run away? Do I stay and act like I don’t know anything?

“Hey Wands?” You say without thinking, immediately regretting your words and curse at yourself for acting so impulsively. She hums, eyes still focused on the tv.

“If I asked you a question… would you answer truthfully?”

“Of course, I always do.” She answers, her voice soft with a hint of worry as she pointed the remote at the television to shut it off. You want to believe her over what your own eyes saw, you wish you had never touched or opened that box. Everything would’ve stayed perfect. But sadly, you have to accept the fact that it was never perfect. You were played and life isn’t the paradise she pretended it was.

“I… I found the laptop.” You unwravel yourself from her hold so you can sit up and face her. Your mind so caught up on the anxiety rumbling around in your stomach, you miss the faint crimson flash behind her irises and the tiny tense of her shoulders.

“What laptop?”

“The one hooked up to the security cameras.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, love.” She chuckled, shifting uncomfortably as she shook her head and avoided your frantic stare. You bite the inside of your cheek, gently taking her hand between yours and softening your tone of voice. The last thing you want to do is make her upset or start an argument.

“Okay, then just answer this… What happened the night we met?”

“I told you, I saved you-“

“No Wanda. What. happened?” You enunciate your last words, voice trembling as you desperately cling onto the hope that she’ll tell you what happened and explain why she lied. This is her chance to admit to everything, but she doesn’t take it.

“I’m telling you the truth, Y/N. Why are you questioning me?” You feel burning tears sit behind your eyes and your lips quivers, your patience worn into a thread as you pinch your temple.

This is the woman you love and trust most in the world, it breaks your heart that the foundation of your relationship was built on lies and manipulation. It breaks your heart even more so knowing that the Wanda you thought you knew could just be a fake persona, anything feels possible right now.

“I told you, I found the laptop and saw the security cameras. I know what actually happened.” She lets out a small laugh, your expression changing to one of disbelief watching her shrug as if what she did isn’t that bad.

“Okay… well it’s not a big deal-“

“You made me forget my entire life! I’m scared, Wanda. You lied to me. I want to know who I am, not who you want me to be!” You lose the composure you were holding on to, standing up and throwing your hands around.

She clenches her jaw when you yell these words at her, her nostrils flaring and her eyes poisoned with an ironclad rage. She slowly stands to her feet and you internally kick yourself—regretting how you spoke to her as she looms over you. Her tightened jaw and her slit pupils reminded you of a snake ready to attack, pointing a finger in your face before she speaks her next words.

“You came to me for help. And I helped you. I treat you like a fucking queen and that’s how you speak to me?” Shes not yelling, her voice is quiet but created purely of anger and disappointment. Honestly, you’d prefer yelling.

“But Wanda.. that’s not fair-“

“Don’t you talk to me about what’s fair. I’ve done everything possible to make sure you’re happy and now you’re scared of me?” Tears well your eyes as you stare at her, the salty drops blurring your vision and rolling down your face every time you blink. That familiar lump gets caught in your throat, forcing whatever you wanted to say right back down. You’ve never seen her so furious, and you never expected to be the reason for her to be.

“I know the life you lived before me. You lived alone with two bunnies, you hate your family, worked as a waitress and had one friend. You know I treat you better than anyone else ever has.” Your eyes dart to the floor, shame swelling inside of you.

Wanda makes me happy, why did I ruin it all?

“But if you’re going to talk to me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you, I guess there’s no point in being nice.” Your eyes fly up at her again, hoping to see some sort of playfulness in her expression. No matter how hard you searched there wasn’t a hint of that gentle gaze she always had for you.

“Get on your knees, Y/N.”

“What-“

“On your fucking. Knees.”

You let out a shaky breath before slowly sinking down to your knees. Your eyes stay stuck to your fidgeting fingers, anxiously waiting for her next orders. “You’re so pretty, it’s a shame you act like such a spoiled little brat.” She unbuttons her jeans and tugs down at the zip, pulling out a large red strap she hid inside of the denim.

“Open.” You hesitate before taking it into your hand, eyes looking up at her nervously before sticking your tongue out and teasing it. You take the tip into your mouth, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks around it, eyes begging for some type of approval. Her mouth opens slightly, quiet pants escaping her as she watches the end of the strap disappear into your mouth repeatedly.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, impatiently pushing her hips forward and forcing the rest of the length into your mouth. “You can’t act all tough with a dick in your mouth, can you?” She sneers. You feel her touch the back of your throat, the faux cock weighing heavy on your tongue as you gagged around it. You claw at her hips and pull at her sweater, but she doesn’t budge.

“Breathe out of your nose, baby.” You do as you’re told, breathing in through your nose while drool dripped down your chin. She picks up your loose hair with her hand and gathers it behind your head, using it as leverage to move your head however she pleases.

“I want you to touch yourself, touch yourself for me please…” She whimpered. Her hips start to move, pumping the toy into your mouth at a merciful pace. Your spit falls from your lips to the carpet underneath you as you slowly remove one of your hands from her to push into your shorts, not wasting a second before thrusting two fingers into yourself.

You moan around the strap while she forces your head back and forth by your hair and snaps her hips harder, breath hitching at the sight of you grinding your hips against your own hand.

She rams into your mouth, hot, breathless praises falling from her lips and raining down onto you. The material of the toy rubs perfectly against her clit, both of you impatiently chasing your highs with increasingly fast and sloppy movements. You feel your walls clench and as you curl your fingers, you notice her thighs start to shake.

“Fuck! Cum with me… let go, sweet girl.”

Her string of moans flow smoothly throughout her silent cabin as she bucked her hips up and further into your mouth. Your juices spill into your hand, your bodies pulsing and sweaty. She squeezes her eyes shut as hot-white pleasure surges through her, and you do the exact same, clenching your thighs together as your eyelids flutter.

She pulls out and you take a deep breath in, your chest heaving and head spinning because of the lack of oxygen. She watches you withdraw your hand from your shorts and your cheeks fade to a hot pink seeing your fingers coated in the sticky cum.

She takes your clean hand and guides you to lay on the couch. You melt into the soft sofa, legs twitching and your eyes shut. You weakly mumble protests when you feel her climb on top of you and immediately starts tugging at your shorts, pulling them down your legs and throwing them to the side. She moves her hand and massages your pussy, eagerly listening to all of your icky sounds. You squirm and try jerking away from her, but her hand pins your hips back down to the couch, forcing you to endure the intensity of her touch.

“Wands, I’m tired..” She smiles, your voice low and husked from your sore throat.

“Don’t you hear that, baby? You’re so wet for me, even when I’m mean to you.” She shushes your begging while using her hand to move your sticky panties out of the way. She lines herself up to your hole, slowly pushing inside and doesn’t wait before picking up her speed.

“You’re so tight..” You sob, feeling smothered and hot from her hands groping at you, her body like a chunk of burning coal hovering above you. She wipes some of your cum from your fingers with her own, then moving them towards your mouth and sliding them in. She exhales shakily and her hips stutter when you swirl your tongue around her fingertips, opening your eyes the slightest bit so you can catch her reaction.

“God, you’re so good like that…” She slams into you harder, adoring the whines that would muffle because of your stuffed mouth. She feels your walls clench around the strap again and her lips stretch into a smug smirk.

“Aww gotta cum already? You wanna make a mess all over my strap, baby? Yeah?” Her voice hitches higher, patronising you in a way she knew you loved.

She takes it all in. Your tits bouncing underneath your shirt from her thrusts and your hardened nipples peeking through. Your flushed cheeks. The sweat glistening off of your forehead and your inner brows perked upwards. You could only moan an answer to her question, legs writhing and eyes glazed over as you stare at her in your euphoric haze.

Then it hits you, the feeling that you’d describe as tasting a slice of heaven and hell at the same time. Your back arches and your muscles tighten. You gasp and pathetically attempt to kick at her when she starts to toy with your sensitive clit, but cease your actions when she shoves her fingers further into your throat as a silent warning.

The last thing you remember before slowly drifting off into your long awaited slumber, is Wanda’s hands running down your sides, the top of her head and your stomach flexing as she kissed her way down your stomach.

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

taglist: @wandasfavv @sokovianbaby @hopelesslygaysstuff @ghxst-guts @maximoffsgirl @mrsmothermaximoff @themilfsland @slutm3out @immclovinmilfs @kimiisims-blog @halsnaksns

[tooclevertobehappy]

Hidden in plain sight Part.3

TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of injury, child abuse, lots of guilt

Mapi and Ingrid are led by the officer down the hospital corridor toward one of the conference rooms. They tightly hold each other’s hands, exchanging nervous glances as they walk. Mapi takes a few seconds to press a lingering kiss on Ingrid’s forehead, letting her know they are in this together. The angst that had settled in Ingrid’s stomach grows the further they go. She wishes she could have seen Clara before being dragged away, but now she and Mapi are told to sit and wait for someone to come talk to them.

They’ve been sitting for less than ten minutes when Alexia enters, being led in by the same officer. It’s clear from the confusion on her face that she doesn’t understand why they aren’t allowed to see Clara either.

The three of them sit in silence. Ingrid’s leg bounces incessantly, her nerves growing, until Mapi gently places her hand on her leg, slowly caressing it with her thumb in an attempt to calm her down. All the while, Mapi keeps an eye on the captain, who looks like she’s about to storm out and demand to see Clara. The way Alexia’s knuckles turn white from gripping the chair’s armrests is a clear indication of her mounting frustration.

A woman finally walks in, file in hand, followed by a doctor and the same police officer. They sit down with the group, briefly talking among themselves. All three players’ eyes are drawn to the woman’s badge, which shines under the overhead lamp. It reads: “Mrs. Armon Child Protective Services.”

Ingrid’s hand joins Mapi’s on her leg, holding on so tightly that Mapi wonders if she might bruise from the hold. They exchange glances. What had been a weird, concerning situation before has now escalated into something far worse.

Finally, the agent clears her throat, opens the file she’s holding, and begins to speak.

“Hi, thank you for waiting. We just had a few questions about Miss Arellano’s home life,” she says calmly, before being interrupted by Alexia.

“What do you mean, her home life? Why aren’t we allowed to see her?” Alexia demands, her voice rising with frustration.

The agent sighs before picking up a piece of paper from her file. “Miss Arellano was brought to this hospital following injuries sustained during training today at the Barcelona team stadium, is that correct?” she asks, waiting for them to confirm.

“She was unconscious when she was brought in. Our nurses changed her from her training attire into one of our hospital gowns to better assess her injuries. During the examination, they found unexpected contusions on her body—ones that don’t match up with the injuries she would have sustained during the accident or any other training,” the agent continues.

The doctor, who had remained silent until then, raised a hand, his gaze turning serious.

“Miss Arellano, presented with a head laceration and head contusion that we know was caused today during training.” He says.

The three players nod their head at this, they’d all been there and seen the accident themselves after all.

”We however found evidence of bruises on her ribs and back.” He adds looking at them one after the other, seemingly studying their reactions.

Ingrid’s hand leaves Mapi’s and comes up to cover her mouth as tears started to form in her eyes while Alexia’s sharp intake of breath can be heard throughout the room.

“Adding to this, scans confirmed she has three fractured ribs and small cuts on the base of her neck, small crescent moons that suggest she’s been forcefully held by someone.” He ends with, closing the small file he’d opened when he started listing the seemingly endless list of injuries.

Tears now fall freely from Ingrid’s eyes over her hand still covering her mouth, Mapi’s arm is now laying over Ingrid’s shoulders, holding her closer to her as she holds her own leg tightly to hide the way her hand shakes.

Miss Armon gives them a brief moment, to allow the information to sink in before adding “We are suspecting that this isn’t the first time something like this happened, counting the report made today by the hospital, Miss Arellano is the subject of three previous reports.”

“Reports?” Mapi asks, her voice shaky with the first hints of fear.

“Reports of suspected child abuse,” the agent clarifies. “Two came from her school, and one from a former coach. All three reports describe unusual bruises, which Miss Arellano tries to justify as clumsiness or falling, Miss Arellano it seems has been getting abused and covering it up for weeks, if not months, trying to make those injuries look accidental but the medical assessment is clear, she’s being abused.”

The room is still. No one speaks. The weight of the agent’s words presses on them, suffocating. Mapi watches as Ingrid’s hands tremble. Alexia stares at the floor, her breath shallow. Time stretches between them. They can’t undo this.

Alexia who had sat still for most of the conversation seems to deflate at this, she’d hoped that maybe this had been “it only happened once” situation, but there was no denying the truth, Clara had been suffering for months, hiding it from them, and she’d been absolutely clueless, her, the captain of the team, she had not seen it.

She can’t help but think that she’s failed at her job, and the weight of the realization seems to pull her down and she slowly bends over herself, one hand coming to grip her own hair the other one resting on her face as she tries to slow her breathing down.

Ingrid is left reeling by the sudden onslaught of information. It feels like her chest is tightening with every passing second, tears are clouding her vision, she tries to breathe normally, but she can’t help the hitches that come with every breath she takes. She had suspected something was wrong the day before, but hearing her worst fears confirmed in a matter of minutes sends her spiraling.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Miss Armon says, her voice softer now. “But Clara’s safety is our top priority. We can start to make a difference now that we know the truth.”

The agent looks at the three women. “Now, we must ask if you’ve noticed anything that might shed light on this matter—anything Clara may have said or done, or anything unusual you’ve noticed about her home life?”

Mapi tightens her grip on Ingrid’s hand as she looks at Alexia, who is visibly devastated, she’d seen the Captain face hard situations before, always standing strong to help anyone on their team, but now she looks small curled in on herself as if it could protect her from the brutality of the information she’d been given.

She gently nudges Ingrid, silently inviting her to speak about what the two of them had discussed the day before.

“She was supposed to come to our house for dinner yesterday” says Ingrid, “She didn’t show up so I.. “she chokes up on her words, tears strangling her “So I went to her house, her dad answered the door, but he said she wasn’t there!” she adds the volume of her voice raising, her tone almost pleading with them.

Mapi’s now slowly but firmly caressing her back trying to ground her but also to remind her that she’s here by her side.

“I should have known! He smelled like liquor and the house was a mess! But he said she wasn’t there and I left.” Her eyes that were still filled with tears suddenly widened. “Oh my god.” her hand came back to cover her mouth. “I left! I left her there! With him!” Ingrid had tried to hold her sobs back till this exact moment when she realized that she’d left Clara with her abuser completely unchecked. She had seen the signs, the clues, heard the warning bells go off in her mind and yet. She’d left her there.

Ingrid’s breaths come in shallow gasps, as the weight of her realization crushes her, she can’t believe it.

Mapi’s chest tightens at the thought of Clara, alone in that house with him. The guilt in Ingrid’s eyes is almost too much for her to bear, and she feels a helpless knot in her stomach. What if this had been prevented? What if she could’ve seen the signs too?

“No no no no Amor, don’t do this to yourself” Mapi quickly grabs Ingrid’s face in her hands, trying to look into her eyes as she wipes her tears with her thumbs resting on her cheeks.

She pulls her in a tight embrace, holding her tightly, wishing she could protect her from the crushing guilt threatening to swallow here whole. “You couldn’t have known” she whispers, voice soft but firm.

Ingrid wants to believe her, she really does, but she can’t help but wonder how different the situation would be if she’d just paid attention to Clara, if she didn’t let her slip away, if only she'd intervened earlier, maybe all of this could have been avoided.

Mapi feels inadequate, she wants to reassure Ingrid and she can’t help but worry for Alexia that still hasn’t moved from the position she’s been in since the doctor listed all of Clara’s injuries, she wants to help both of them but can’t help but focus on her girlfriend, her caring and oh so sensitive girlfriend who seems to break down even more as the second pass, she can feel her body tensing and yet crumpling at the same time right underneath her fingertips.

She tries to pull her up and away from the guilt pit she seems to be falling into but she’s only mildly successful.

As Ingrid’s sobs slowly subside, Mapi still feels a tight knot in her chest, a growing worry that this moment, this pain, might not be something they can fix with words alone.

Miss Armon allowed them a few minutes to settle themselves before she spoke.

“By your own words, Mister Arellano was intoxicated when you came to check on Clara, is that correct?” she confirms, taking notes as she goes

Ingrid nods, her hand fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“Is there any other thing any of you can remember that could add to this?” she asks.

Alexia who had remained silent till now spoke up.

“She ran into me on the way to the field, I grabbed her so she wouldn’t fall and… she just looked in pain and I asked what was going on, but she said she was just tired, and we were almost running late.” She looks smaller than she ever has, guilt seems to be pulling her down more and more as she speaks. “I didn’t push her.” she says softly, her head still bowed down.

She takes a few slows breaths before looking up at the couple sitting next to her.

“I just don’t understand how we’ve all missed this. How I’ve missed it.” she says her voice shaky as she holds back her tears

The agent shakes her head.

“Abused children tend to hide their troubles very well” she tells them “The important thing is that we know. Now we can do something about it.”

They all sit in silence for a few seconds before the doctor clears his throat and breaks the silence, his voice professional but sympathetic.

“Miss Arellano has not woken up yet, but when she does we will assess the extent of her injuries to plan her recovery.” he says “When she’s ready we’ll conduct an interview to understand what’s happened. But right now we need to give her time, it’s likely she’s been hiding this for quite a while and we don’t know how she’ll react once the truth comes to light.”

“Would we be allowed to see her?” asks Mapi, she doesn’t allow herself to hope, no matter how desperate she is to check on Clara, she doesn’t want to give anyone false hopes if they are denied access to her.

The doctor looks at Miss Armon, who nods slightly, prompting the doctor grab his file and stand up “Yes, we had to ask those questions first, but if you wish to see her, I’ll take you to her room, however be aware that she’s still unconscious and that we don’t know when she’ll wake up, could be in an hour or tomorrow, okay?”

The three of them nod, shaking hands with Miss Armon and the police officer on auto-pilot before following the doctor out of the conference room and down corridors as they slowly walked closer to their young friend.

As they walked down the sterile corridors Mapi didn’t react as Ingrid grabbed her hand, she’d expected it, but to her surprise Alexia’s hand reached out, grabbing her free one tightly as though she needed to anchor herself too.

She’d raised her head looking at her, but Alexia refused to look at her, looking ahead the whole time her eyes fixed on the back of the doctor’s white coat.

So the three of them walked hand in hand, ignoring the looks thrown their way by patients, doctors and nurses alike that recognized them.

It felt like they’d walked for hours but could have only been minutes when the doctor finally stopped in front of a room, gently sliding the door open and stepping in.

Ingrid can’t help the gasp that comes out of her mouth as she sees Clara laying in the hospital bed, half her face covered in bandages and what wasn’t could only be discribed as a mix of purple and blue.

Alexia didn’t make a sound, but it was clear in the way her jaw tightened that she wasn’t left unaffected by the sight before her.

And Mapi? Well Mapi was trying to help everyone at once, she had to make sure Ingrid didn’t break down, that Alexia wouldn’t retreat behind her walls and try to deal with everything at once, she had to make sure Clara was okay and somehow also take care of herself as well.

Last night she wondered how they could help Clara.

Today she wasn’t sure any of them would be left standing to do just that.

[imaginestuffs]

"Do You Now?" -Johnnie Guilbert x Reader

word count:8,809

warnings: my first fic for Johnnie, so maybe a bit ooc. Fluff, lots of fluff.

Summary: Tara books another cruise for you all, and the reader gets a bit too drunk. She wakes up in the morning with no memory of what happened the night before, but a whole lot of love for her boyfriend.

(gif not mine!)

Tara had decided it would be a perfect time to book another cruise for you all. It was finally summer and the sun had been shining for weeks now, not a cloud in sight. She had been dying to tan and you had been dying to get away from L.A. You needed a break from everything, you were tired and felt so trapped in one place. You just wanted to escape your life and have fun with your friends and boyfriend. 

Of course, they were going to be filming but you didn’t mind, you just wanted to have fun and not worry about everything you had to do at home. You were just finishing up your packing when you felt arms wrap around your waist. You smiled to yourself and placed your hand on Johnnie’s arm. 

“Hello my love,” you said and leaned into him, placing your head back onto his shoulder. He placed his face in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss there. You smiled lazily and reached back to run a hand through his hair.

 “Are you almost ready?” he asked softly trying not to disrupt the comfortable atmosphere. 

“Yeah, just need to zip this up and we can head out if you and Jake are ready,” you spoke quietly. He hummed in acknowledgment of your answer and nodded as if to say that he and Jake were ready to go.  

Despite knowing that you were all ready to go you still stood there enjoying a quiet moment together. It seemed like those moments didn’t happen often enough in your lives, so it was nice to just bask in his presence, knowing he was willing to just stand there with you for as long as time would allow. 

You’re not sure how long you stood there but the peace ended when you heard Jake call for you guys. 

“Johnnie, (y/n)! Would you stop making out and please come down here so we can leave?” 

You could just imagine his face, a joking scowl, but amusement-filled eyes. Johnnie sighed and began to let you go, and you realized just how cold you felt when he wasn’t holding you.  

“Shut up Jake, we’ll be down in a second!” you called back and chuckled softly. “Sure, okay. I believe you!” he responded sarcastically and you just rolled your eyes and you heard Johnnie chuckle as well. 

You zipped your suitcase and before you could grab it Johnnie picked it up and placed it on the floor, ready to carry it out for you.

 You smiled over at him, “Ever the gentleman, aren’t you?” you raised a brow. A tinge of pink bloomed on his cheeks and you smiled brighter.

 “For you babe? Always,” he said. You giggled softly before leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Johnnie,” you appreciated his kindness. 

“C’mon let’s get out there before Jake comes in here to find us,” he said and you smiled before reaching for his hand. He gladly intertwined your fingers and guided you to the main area where Jake and Tara had been waiting for you. You hadn’t realized that Tara had arrived until now. 

“Tara!” you said excitedly and squeezed Johnnie’s hand before letting go so you could greet your best friend. “Hey babe, are you ready for our cruise?!” she asked enthusiastically. 

“Oh my god, I’m so ready. I need a break from this place, with all my favorite people,” you said, but then furrowed your brows and looked around. “Where’s Barry?” you question in confusion. 

“He should be here soon, I told him what time to meet us here,” Tara said. “Alright, good! I’m so excited you guys!” you enthuse with a smile. 

Johnnie grinned and wrapped an arm around your waist. You looked up at him and couldn’t help but melt at the sight of his smile. Little did you know but Tara noticed your lovestruck gaze and smiled to herself. She thought back on the time that you and Johnnie first met, and she just knew that there wasn’t anything that would stop you from falling in love with each other. It was just too obvious, too hard to ignore the glaring affection you showed when together. 

Johnnie felt your gaze and looked down at you as you leaned on his shoulder. “What’s wrong babe?” he asked and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

By now Jake and Tara were lost in their own conversation, so it was just you and Johnnie. 

“I adore you,” you said softly and pushed up on your toes to press a kiss on his lips. He sighed against your lips and turned to pull you flush against him to keep you as close as possible. Your hands cradled his face and his slid under your sweater, delicately gripping your waist. 

Johnnie slowly pulled away, just barely to look at you with his beautiful blues. “You’re too sweet for me,” he said, and you shook your head and rubbed your thumb against his cheek. 

“No one could ever be sweet enough for you,” you told him and pressed one last peck against his lips.  

The door being knocked on was what broke you out of your trance and you pulled away from your boyfriend. Jake opened the door and there stood Barry. 

You smiled brightly, “Barry! You’re here!” you said and gave him a hug in greeting. “Hey (y/n), how are you?” he asked. “I’m great, how are you?” you returned the question. “I’m doing good thanks for asking,” he said. 

“Is everything ready to go? We should probably head out now,” Barry spoke again. “Yup, so let's get the fuck out of here,” Jake said and you chuckled before grabbing your things to pack them into the car.

As soon as you stepped into the sun, you sneezed. Everyone laughed and Tara said “Bless you,”. 

“Thank you very much,” you said and smiled. “It’s so cute that you always sneeze when you walk into the sunlight. Every time without fail,” Jake said and you chuckled. “I can’t help it, it just happens and I have no clue why.” you shrugged as you dragged your suitcase to the trunk of the car. As you were going to put it in, Johnnie once again took it from your hands and placed it in the back for you. “Thank you, love,” you said, and he nodded with a smile. 

“Ok, so I googled why people sneeze in the sun and this is what it says. It’s because of something called the photic sneeze reflex. It triggers you to sneeze when being exposed to bright light after being in a dim place.” Jake told you. Tara rolled her eyes. 

“He can’t ever not google something. He just can’t live without googling,” she ranted and Johnnie, Barry, and you laughed. It was Jake’s turn to roll his eyes. “Well,  we know why she sneezes now. All because of my Google search. You should be thanking me,” Jake defended his addiction. 

“You googling my girlfriend’s quirks is much appreciated Jake,” Johnnie said bluntly and you chuckled. 

“Ok, ok enough of this we have to go now or we’ll be late,” Tara said and you all piled into the car. You sat in the back with Johnnie and Barry. Johnnie took the middle because he knew you liked to be by the window. You were grateful for how well he knew you, and you placed his hand on your thigh. He squeezed your leg gently, and you leaned over to rest your head on his shoulder. 

“The first thing I’m doing is tanning. (y/n), please come with me! I know you don’t like it very much but you can just lounge and read your book,” she pleaded and you chuckled.

 “Of course, I’ll go with you, I need a break from these idiots for a few hours,” you joked. 

Johnnie placed a hand over his heart and looked at you with a hurt expression. Barry shook his head in disappointment and Jake flipped you off from the driver’s seat.

 You laughed, “How dare you (y/n), I thought you loved me,” Johnnie acted offended. 

“I do love you, I love you all… but I need some girl time. After that I’m all yours babe,” you said and squeezed his hand in reassurance. 

“Alright, that's fine then, just abandon me,” he said and playfully glared at you. You rolled your eyes. “Would you like to join us?” you asked with a raised brow. 

He looked at you incredulously. “Absolutely not,” he said and you chuckled. “I thought not. It’s just you and me Tara,” you said and she smiled back at you. 

“It’ll be fun I promise!” she told you excitedly. “I know it will be,” you laughed softly. 

You drove for a bit longer and when you got there, you went through security. Finally, you boarded. It seemed like you and Tara were the most excited. 

“Babe! We’re going to Mexico! This is so nice, I get to spend time with you guys without stressing out about something every 5 minutes!” you gushed. 

You grabbed Johnnie’s hand and tugged him along with you. He smiled at how happy you were. He lifted your hand above your head to spin you around. You let out a laugh as you twirled around a few times. Johnnie tugged you close and placed a kiss on your head as you continued walking to your rooms.

Unbeknownst to you Barry was filming the entire thing. 

“They’re so in love that it makes me sick,” Jake said quietly. Barry laughed, and Tara smacked his shoulder. 

“Shut up Jake! They’re so happy, I love it!” she whispered excitedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Johnnie this happy before,” She marveled at the couple in front of her. 

“Guys! Would you wait up, you’re practically running!” Jake complained, ruining the moment you and your boyfriend were having. Tara sighed and placed her head in her hand. 

“He just had to do that didn’t he?” Tara looked at the camera and shook her head. 

You looked over at Jake and flipped him off. “Walk faster, utilize your spider legs!” you called down the hallway. Everyone laughed and Jake took long strides down the hallway. You laughed, “See, was that so hard?” you questioned, and shook your head. 

“I don’t think I've ever seen him move that fast before,” Johnnie joked, and you smiled at him. “I bet, I could get to the end of the hall faster than you,” you challenged, and he looked at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Are you challenging me?” Johnnie questioned with a grin. 

“Maybe I am. What are you gonna do about it?” you pushed. 

“I’m gonna win, that’s what I’m gonna do,” he said and you chuckled. 

“Tara count us down please,” you said and grinned back at her. 

Jake stood in the middle of the hallway hyping Johnnie up. You sent a glare his way and he laughed. 

“I got you, girl. you ready?!” she asked and you got into a good position to run. Johnnie looked over at you and got ready as well. 

“You can do this (y/n)! Me and Barry believe in you! On the count of three,” Tara said. 

“One…”  you glanced over at Johnnie and saw he was looking at you also. 

“Two…” Johnnie grinned at you,  and you smirked back.

“Three!” Tara shouted and you took off as fast as you could. 

Johnnie was slightly behind you, and Tara and Barry were cheering you on. Jake was doing his best to hype up Johnnie, shouting encouraging words.  As you got close to the end, you felt arms wrap around your waist and you were lifted off of the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise and heard your boyfriend’s laugh in your ear. 

You laughed, out of breath from running. He set you down and as soon as your feet hit the ground you broke loose and set out in a sprint. Johnnie huffed and didn’t bother chasing you. Everyone was laughing and cheering you on. 

Your hand hit the wall at the end of the hall and you cheered. “I did it! What did I say? I knew I’d win!” you exclaimed. Johnnie looked at you with a smile at how happy you were. 

“That’s not fair!” he joked and you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re the one who tried to sabotage me!” you said and walked back to your friends. 

“That’s true Johnnie, it was sabotage,” Jake pointed out and you chuckled. “You’re supposed to support me,” Johnnie said floored by Jake’s sudden change in allegiance. 

Jake shrugged, “Sorry man, I have to call it like I see it,” he said and Johnnie rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, let’s get to our rooms, I’m done with this now,” Johnnie sighed and you chuckled. 

You grabbed Johnnie’s arm and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “C’mon Love, let’s find our rooms,” you said softly and you all set off to find them. 

Jake and Barry’s room came first, and then Tara’s. You and Johnnie walked down the halls by yourselves and talked softly amongst yourselves. 

“I’m happy we get our own room,” you said and looked over at him. He smiled and squeezed your hand. “ Me too. Just us, and no threat of someone bursting through the door uninvited, “ he said blissfully. You giggled softly and nodded. 

“I am definitely excited about that,” you said and smiled giddily. You came to a stop in front of your room and he got the key and opened the door for you. Your smile stretched from ear to ear as you walked into the room. He stepped in after you and placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you further into the room. 

Your attention was drawn to the balcony, and you quickly ran over to it. 

“Johnnie, look! It’s so pretty out here!” you beamed. 

Johnnie looked at you starry-eyed. His heart was almost too full of love for him to handle. He truly couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, he didn’t notice that you had looked at him. 

Your brow furrowed and you spoke up. “Love, are you ok?” you asked in concern. He broke out of his daze at the sound of your voice. “Yeah, I’m perfect,” he said and you walked to stand in front of him. 

Reaching up to place your hands on his face you smiled lovingly at him. 

“You are perfect aren’t you?” you admired him. His cheeks flushed and you smiled. “I love you (y/n),” he said. “I love you too Johnnie,” you said and tugged him down to kiss him. 

He grabbed your hips and gently led you to the bed. Your legs hit the edge and you dropped down onto the soft mattress. You backed yourself up onto the bed and he crawled over you. 

His lips landed on yours once more and your hands tangled into his hair. He bit your lip gently and you sighed. He took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. You could feel your heartbeat quicken and you swore he was close enough to feel it. He moved down to your jaw and placed lazy kisses along your neck. You mewled softly when he grazed your soft skin with his teeth. His kisses sent shivers up your spine at the cool metal adorning his lip. 

His hand slid under your shirt and gripped your waist firmly. “You’re so pretty baby,” He breathed against your neck. You sighed at his words, and he looked up at you through his lashes. He could see the need in your (e/c) eyes and knew he needed to stop what he knew he couldn't start right now. 

He lifted himself off of you and took his spot lying beside you. Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Why’d you stop?” you whined quietly.

 “We can finish this later, you’re supposed to go hang out with Tara soon. You should get ready babe,” he said and kissed your head. 

Reluctantly you got up from the bed and began to get ready. You fixed your makeup and put on your bathing suit throwing on one of Johnnie’s shirts you had stolen. He chuckled when he saw what shirt you were wearing. 

“What are you laughing about?” you questioned. “I was wondering where that shirt went,” he said and your face got hot. “It’s my favorite one, I didn't think you’d mind,” you said shyly. “I don’t mind at all, I just think it’s cute,” he said and admired you. You smiled softly at him. 

“Do you know where my book is Johnnie?” you asked as you looked through your bag. “It’s over here babe, you left it in your bag,” he told you and pointed to the chair by the balcony door where your purse sat.

“Thank you, my love,” you said and moved toward the chair to grab it. Just before Johnnie could speak there was a knock on the door. 

You knew it had to be Tara by the way she knocked. You opened the door for her and saw what she was wearing. She always dressed so well, and it kind of made you feel insecure but you knew that none of your friends would compare you. You knew that Johnnie would always choose you,” 

“You all ready?” she asked and you nodded. “I am, give me a second,” you said and walked to where Johnnie was sitting. “I love you, see you later ok. Be good, don’t drink too much to drown out the loneliness of being without me,” you said and leaned down to kiss his head. 

“I make no promises, except that I love you too,” he said and held your chin, bringing you down to press a chaste kiss on your lips. 

“Bye, Johnnie! Jake and Barry will be here to get you soon!” Tara called as you both exited the room. 

The door closed as you and Tara stepped into the surprisingly vacant hall. 

“How’s the UV today?” you asked, looking at her with a smile. 

She grinned brightly, “It’s honestly so great right now and I am dying to lay out,” she said and you chuckled. “I’m actually kind of excited 'cause this book is amazing,” you said. She chuckled. “Of course, that’s what you’re excited about,” she rolled her eyes and you laughed. 

 You finally reached the deck and chose your loungers. She settled in her lounge chair and you settled in yours. Opening your book you immediately got lost in it. 

You sat there until the wind started to pick up, and the clouds started to cover the sun. Tara sat up and sighed. 

“Are you serious? Why does this happen every time I want to tan?” she questions in frustration. 

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be, today Tara,” you said and shrugged. 

She sent a playful glare your way and you chuckled. “You’re really mean, I hope you know that,” she said and you laughed again.  

Tara and you got up from your spots to head back to her room for a bit. 

“I am glad we’re going back to your room, I wanted to tell you something,” you said.

 She looked at you with raised brows, “What is it?” she questioned eagerly. 

You stepped into the elevator, “It’s all good things I promise,” you said with a bright grin. 

Walking down the hall to her room, she had not stopped questioning you about what you wanted to tell her.  She pulled out her key and opened the door. You walked in first and flopped onto the bed. She put her stuff down and hopped on the bed next to you. 

“Ok, we’re here now tell me!” she said excitedly. 

“I’m really happy,” you finally told her.  Her eyes softened and she smiled at you.   “You seem like you are,” she said. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy and content in my entire life. I don’t wake up not wanting to exist. I don’t cry to my sister about feeling listless and alone,” you explained to her. 

She could hear your honesty and could feel how much you meant it.  “I never knew that I would ever find someone who would mean more to me than anything in my life. I didn’t ever believe that one day I would be so in love that nothing would hurt like it did before. I didn’t know that the person I dreamed of when I was little would find me, and love me like I love them,” you rambled on. 

Tara could see the tears well in your eyes and she reached forward to grab your hands in hers. 

“You survived every bad thing in your life, you pushed through because I think deep down you knew that it would all be worth it,” she said. You looked at her and she saw your tears falling down your face. Tara immediately brought you into a hug, and you just let yourself feel everything all at once. 

All of a sudden there was a knock at her door. She pulled away and walked to the door to see who it was. Hearing the boys she opened the door. 

“Finally, we’ve been looking everywhere for you two,” Jake complained. 

“You lied to us about tanning, I can’t even believe you right now,” Johnnie added. 

You laughed and Johnnie turned to see you sitting criss-cross on the bed. He walked toward you and you reached your arms out for him. He chuckled and stepped into your open arms, wrapping his around your shoulders. He placed a hand on the back of your head as you leaned against his chest.  He could feel how warm you still were from the sun you had gotten. 

“I missed you, Johnnie,” you said and looked up at him. He swept a few loose strands of hair away from your face, letting his fingers trace your cheekbones. You closed your eyes in contentment, with a soft smile on your lips. “I missed you too, baby,” 

He then noticed that your lashes were wet with tears. Concern clouded his eyes. 

“Have you been crying?” he inquired with worry. 

Your eyes fluttered open, “I’m ok love,” you said and took his hands. 

“Tara, why was she crying?” Johnnie looked at her for an answer. Jake turned his attention to you, and you smiled shyly under everyone’s gazes. 

“Wait, why were you crying? Are you ok (y/n)?” Jake's voice immediately held a level of compassion it hadn’t before. 

“She’s ok, she just needed a girl talk that’s all. It wasn’t anything to worry about,” she explained to them. 

You smiled gratefully at her, and she smiled back. “Are you sure? You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Johnnie reassured you. “I know, thank you, Johnnie,” you said and kissed the hand that you were holding. 

“We’re here too (y/n) if you ever need to talk to someone,” Jake added, and Barry nodded his head. You smiled in appreciation for your friends. “That means a lot to me guys, thank you very much,” you said and got up to give hugs to everyone. 

“Ok, everyone out, I have to get ready for Dinner,” Tara announced and began to shoo you all out of the room. You chuckled. 

“Wow Tara, you’re so rude. I can’t even believe you right now,” Jake jeered playfully. 

She smiled sarcastically and shut the door. 

“Well, what do we do now?” Jake threw his hands up. “I also have to get ready for dinner, so I’m just gonna go do that,” you said and began to walk away. Johnnie followed close behind. 

“You’re abandoning us too Johnnie?!” Jake crowed in disbelief. 

“Sorry guys, I wanna spend time with my girlfriend,” he said, turning around to see you waiting for him. 

“I’ll be quick, I promise!” you told Jake and Barry. “Sure you will,” Barry spoke, and you rolled your eyes. 

Johnnie took your hand and began walking you back to your room, leaving Jake and Barry outside of Tara’s room. As soon as they are out of earshot and sight you look up at your boyfriend. 

“I feel bad now, leaving them alone with nothing to do,” you said, playing with his fingers. He looked down at you in amusement. “Are you serious? You know they’ll find something stupid to do with their time,” he told you and you cracked a bit of a smile. “I guess you’re right,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

You stopped in front of your room as Johnnie unlocked it for you and held the door. You gave a small curtsey and walked in. “Most appreciated good sir,” you thanked him.

He chuckled and stepped in behind you. “Anything for the lady,” he responded and you looked over your shoulder and smiled. 

He couldn’t help but melt at how adorable you were. You were his to love and be loved by. It was small moments like these that made him realize how happy you truly made him. 

He watched as you opened your suitcase and finally began to unpack the things you needed. He saw you take out an outfit and furrow your brow before reaching for something else. 

You turned to look at him quizzically. “Johnnie, would you help me?” you asked and he immediately nodded his head. “Yeah sure, what's up babe?” he asked and stepped behind you. His hands held your hips and his chin rested on your shoulder.

“Does this look nice?” you asked and gestured to the clothes you had set out. 

He examined what you had put together, and smiled. It was a butter-yellow sundress with white flowers on it, along with a pair of frilly socks and white Mary janes. 

“Babe, it’s perfect, honestly, it is,” he told you. Looking at him you made sure to search his eyes for any sign of dishonesty, and (of course) found none. 

“Alright, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t gonna look stupid,” you said. He placed a hand on your cheek and made you look at him. “You’d never look stupid in anything. Plus, I love you in yellow,” he spoke softly meeting your eyes. Your face got warm and you averted your eyes. “Really?” you asked. “Absolutely,” he said and kissed your forehead. 

You grinned, gripping his shoulder to boost yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my love,” you said and he nodded. “No need to thank me,” he smiled. 

You stripped off the shirt you had borrowed and began to get dressed. Being ever the gentleman he kept his eyes on his phone. (or at least tried to).

You had finished putting on the dress and asked him if he could tie the bow in the back. He agreed and reached for the strings at the base of your neck, only now realizing that the dress had no back. 

“Wow,” he mumbled to himself, in awe of how beautiful you were without even seeing your face. “What’s wrong? Is it too much?” you asked, your voice filled with concern. 

“No, no, of course not. You’re just so beautiful,” he said while tying the bow for you. The feeling of his fingers grazing your skin caused a shiver to run through you. 

He smiled softly to himself at your reaction to his touch. He placed a kiss on your shoulder when he was done and you turned around. He could tell how his compliment, though said many times, still affected you. 

“It’s true you know, you’re so, so beautiful,” he said and tilted your chin up so he could lean down and place a kiss on your lips. 

“You make me really happy,” you confessed softly. He smiled, “You make me happy too,” he returned the sentiment. 

He pulled you in close and just held you for a moment. He didn’t want to let go but knew he had to. He let you go so you could finish getting ready. 

You put your makeup on, not much but just enough. Placing a white ribbon in your hair you were finally ready to meet up with everyone else. 

“Ok, I’m ready now!” you said smiling at Johnnie as he looked at you in awe. 

“I’m not sure if I want to go out anymore,” he joked and you chuckled. “But, because I love you I think I’d like to show off my gorgeous girlfriend,” He told you. You laughed again and smacked his arm, “C’mon Johnnie, everyone is waiting for us by the elevator,” you said and grabbed his hand to tug him out the door.  

He stopped you from moving forward by pulling you back to him. You yelped in surprise and he chuckled. 

“Johnnie, what are you doing?” you questioned with a small grin playing on your lips. 

He put his arm around your waist, “I just wanted one more second with you,” he spoke softly before leaning down to press his lips to yours. 

You let yourself melt into the kiss, placing your hands on his shoulders you pushed up on your toes to keep yourself as close as you could. Both of his hands gripped your waist, crinkling the soft yellow fabric of your dress. You whined softly when he caught your bottom lip with his teeth. 

“Shit, of course, this is why we had to wait forever!” Jake yelled from down the hall as he saw you. You and Johnnie both pulled away from each other, cheeks hot, lips pink and kiss-swollen. 

Before either of you could say anything Tara speaks up. 

“Shut up Jake, at least they aren’t having sex in the hallway,” she said. Your cheeks burned hotter than before. You covered your face with your hands and shook your head. Johnnie placed his arm around your shoulder. 

“Let's just go get dinner,” Johnnie spoke up and started to guide you past everyone. Despite being flustered, he was always the one to jump in if you were uncomfortable. 

“Thanks, Johnnie,” you said softly so only he could hear. He smiled down at you and squeezed your shoulder. 

Tara walked up beside you and smiled at you knowingly. She grabbed your arm and pulled you away from your boyfriend. He looked over and saw Tara walking ahead with you and shook his head. 

“Bro she just stole your girlfriend, what the hell?” Jake spoke loudly. Tara turned toward him and stuck her tongue out. You laughed and shook your head. 

“You’ll get her back eventually, I just want to walk with my best friend. We’re the hottest people here so we obviously have to take the attention off of you guys so you won’t be embarrassed,” she shrugged. 

“That’s not true, right (y/n)?” Jake asked you. You smiled shyly, “Well, I do have to agree with Tara this time guys. I’m so sorry but the truth is undeniable,” you said with mock sympathy. Jake rolled his eyes and Johnnie shook his head. Barry chuckled behind the camera and you flashed him a smile. 

“So, what was that all about?” Tara asked quietly. “What?” you asked with furrowed brows. “That kiss in the hallway,” she said, nudging you a bit. “It was just a kiss that’s all,” You tried to deter. 

“No way missy, that was not just a kiss. That was a real kiss,” she told you and your brows furrowed again. “A real kiss?” you questioned. She rolled her eyes and tugged your arm, “Yes, a real kiss. The kind that makes you melt, that you know would lead somewhere if it weren’t for the circumstances,” she said and you blushed brightly. 

“I was trying to get us out the door, but he pulled me back and said he just wanted one more second with me,” you told her quietly. She looked at you with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Are you serious, that's the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!” she whispered. 

“He really is sweet to me. I realize how lucky I am every day, and it’s crazy because I’ve never felt this loved and secure in my entire life,” you told her with a soft smile. She immediately wrapped you in a side hug. “I’m so happy for you babe,” she smiled at you. 

Jake, Johnnie, and Barry were walking behind you. Johnnie looked at you like you were the only thing he could see. He wore a smile that no one had ever seen. Jake noticed this and decided to speak up. 

“Hey Johnnie, you ok?” he asked. Johnnie snapped his attention to Jake and nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” He asked. 

“You just seem unfocused,” Barry spoke up this time. “No, no I’m good. Sorry guys,” he said and tried to wave it off. 

“It’s ok. You seem happy,” Jake pointed out and Johnnie smiled and nodded once again. “I am happy. I don’t think I’ve been this happy in a long time,” Johnnie admitted to his friends. “I don’t think I’ve seen anyone as in love as you two are,” Barry said. 

Johnnie chuckled and his cheeks got pink. “I’ve never been this in love with anyone,” Johnnie stated. Jake walked up next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m happy for you Johnnie,” Jake said, and Barry gave the same sentiment. 

“Thanks guys,” he said. 

You peeked over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend and friends. They all had smiles and that in turn made you smile. Johnnie met your gaze and his smile brightened. 

“Ok, let’s find a table,” Tara spoke up as you all came to a halt to look around for seats. 

You spotted one, “There’s one over there guys c’mon before someone takes it,” You say as you point at a table by the window. You all walk as quickly as you can to get to the table first. You sat down first right by the window and Johnnie took the seat next to you. 

Finally, you were all settled with your drinks and orders placed. Dinner went by quite fast. With Johnnie’s hand on your thigh and how many drinks you were having it was a bit of a blur. 

Jake and Johnnie were at the bar with Barry. So, you and Tara decided to sneak off to the club that they had.

“C’mon

 hurry up (y/n),” Tara tugged at your hand impatiently. You giggled and followed her lead. “This outfit doesn’t seem like club attire,” you pointed out to her as you looked at how you were dressed. 

“It’s cute so it doesn’t matter now c’mon let’s go!” she rattled off excitedly. “Alright, then let’s go,” you said, walking into the club with her. 

You both got more drinks and began to dance with each other. You didn’t even notice everyone staring at you in your yellow sundress and frilly socks. You and your friend lost all track of time, dancing and singing and talking to strangers. Taking pictures with people who were fans. 

You were having the time of your life when suddenly you felt a hand on your waist. 

Turning around you noticed a guy standing behind you and tried to back away. 

Little did you know, in your drunken state, it was Johnnie. The guy standing behind you was in fact your boyfriend. Tara had seen how drunk you were and decided it was time to text Johnnie. Hoping he was sober enough to wrangle you in. 

Johnnie looked confused when you backed away from him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked and took a tentative step forward. Your brows furrowed and you tried to escape through the crowd to find Tara. 

Johnnie quickly fell in step behind you with a guiding hand on your lower back. You felt his touch and tried to move faster. “Babe, where are you going?” he asked loudly trying to be heard over the music. 

“Leave me alone, I have a boyfriend,” you said and turned to him with a sharp glare. His eyes lit up with realization. He had to hold in his laughter. 

“Do you now?” he questioned. You walked out of the crowd and began to walk away from the club. Johnnie was right there beside you. “Yes, I do. Now if you wouldn’t mind going away I would appreciate it,” you said and stuck your nose in the air. “Let’s get you to the room,” He took your hand in his but you pulled away quickly almost losing your balance. He swiftly reached to grab your waist preventing you from falling. 

“Hey, I said to leave me alone, I have a boyfriend. He’s handsome and smart and kind. He has tattoos and would fuck you up if he was here right now,” you said and squirmed out of his grip. A huge smile formed on his face as you described him to himself. He couldn’t help but start to laugh. 

“What are you laughing about?” you asked angrily, giving him a mean stare. 

Your eyes adjusted slightly from being out of the dimly lit club. You saw that it was your boyfriend and you sighed in relief. 

“Johnnie! You’re here!” you shouted happily and instantly wrapped your arms around him. He laughed once more and pulled you closer. “I’m here baby,” he said softly and kissed your head. 

“You wouldn’t believe what just happened,” you said and shook your head. He almost couldn’t believe what was going on. He had never seen you this drunk before. 

“What happened?” he asked and ran his hands up and down your sides. 

“There was this guy who wouldn’t leave me alone. He followed me out of the club and everything. I told him I had a boyfriend but he just wouldn’t stop, I told him that you’d fuck him up if he didn’t go away.” you explained. Johnnie smiled softly at you. 

“Good job babe, I’m glad you’re okay. How ‘bout we go to bed now?” he asked and you nodded your head. “Let’s go, I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m so glad you showed up, you probably scared him away,” you said and he just nodded along. 

He got you to your room and sat you on the bed. He made sure to text Tara and let her know that you were ok and in the room with him. 

While he was texting her you kicked your shoes off and climbed up the bed to curl up. Turning around he saw you snuggled up with the pillows. Makeup still on, along with your dress and hair bow. He chuckled, smiling as he walked over to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He gently took out the bow and ran his fingers through your hair. You sighed in contentment, stretching your limbs and turning to face him. 

“Let’s get ready for bed ok love?” he asked and placed his hand on your arm. You groaned and hid your face in the pillow. 

“I’ll help you, I promise,” he said and kissed your messy hair. You let out a sigh and gave in, slowly sitting up. Your limbs felt heavy and so did your eyes. He helped you stand up, walking behind you to undo the ties of your dress. You let the dress fall as Johnnie hands you your favorite shirt to sleep in. You smile and slip it over your head. 

He quickly grabs a makeup wipe from his bag and begins to wipe the little makeup remaining off your face. You don’t complain about using the wipe this time, too tired to care at this point. 

When he’s done he guides you into the bathroom to brush your teeth as he does the same. Your movements are languid but thankfully get the job done. You then wash your face and are about to head to bed when Johnnie stops you. 

“Do you want moisturizer on babe?” he asked sweetly. You gingerly nodded your head. He carefully picked you up and set you on the counter. He stepped between your legs which you then wrapped around his waist. Your arms were resting over his shoulders as he gently applied the cream to your face. His touch made you even sleepier. You let your eyes flutter shut, and you felt yourself relax. 

You didn’t even realize he was done until he spoke. “Let’s get some sleep (y/n),” he whispered in your ear as he picked you up to carry you to bed. 

He placed you down gently onto the bed, lifting the covers to reach your chin. You snuggled into the pillows and he slid onto his side of the bed. 

You liked to be facing him so he brought you close to him. You quickly draped your leg over his hips and he placed his hand on your thigh. 

He kissed your head, and you tilted your head to look at him. You smiled softly and tilted your chin up slightly, indicating that you’d like a kiss. He chuckled quietly and leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly. He pulled back and you placed your face in the crook of his neck. 

Feeling your lashes flutter against his skin is how he knew you were finally asleep.  Johnnie smiled to himself before drifting off to sleep. 

The morning came as quickly as you had fallen asleep. You awoke before your boyfriend, your eyes opened, and were met with a dim room. Johnnie had closed the curtains before going to sleep so it wouldn’t be as bright when you woke up. You smiled softly at his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t anything major, but it was so very sweet of him. 

You glanced at him and raised your hand to softly trace his tattoos with your finger. You loved every one of them, but your favorite was the moon on his face. It suited him so well, any time you saw a moon like that you were reminded of him. It made you wonder what you would ever do if you broke up. You wouldn’t be able to look at the moon without thinking of him. 

Your eyes welled with tears at the thought and you curled closer to him. Wanting to be as near to him as you could be. Simply wanting to memorize the feeling of him beside you. His warmth, his touch, everything he was. 

As you were lost in thought, you didn’t notice him begin to stir from his sleep. 

Johnnie felt your hold on him get tighter and he looked down at you with worried eyes. 

“Babe, you ok?” he whispered groggily. You looked at him with a soft smile, trying to hide your emotions. “I’m fine love. I just got a bit cold that’s all,” you tried to play it off. 

He saw right through you, “You can tell me anything, remember?” he said and gently brushed a few pieces of hair away from your face. 

You sighed, trying not to give in. “It’s really nothing Johnnie, I promise,” You said with a smile. He gave you a look saying that he didn’t believe you. Your smile fell, and your eyes cast downward. “What’s wrong, (y/n)?” he questioned gently. 

“I don’t ever want to lose you,” you spoke softly in fear your voice would break. His eyes softened, and he softly coaxed you to look at him. Seeing the glimmer of tears in your eyes his heart fell. 

“I don’t ever want to endure life without you again. It was so horrible, I was never happy. Most days I had to talk myself into having the will to stay. I had to do it all by myself, and now I have you. Life doesn’t hurt anymore, I don’t feel like I’m dying just by existing. I want to live because living means getting to love you and that’s all I want.” you admitted to him. 

Johnnie gazed at you with an unchanging expression of compassion. He didn’t know how you felt, all he knew was that he understood. 

“You’re all I want. You make life worth living and show me more every day that you’re the only one I want to live this life with,” he stated with conviction. Wanting nothing more than to let you know how much he loved you. 

Tears streamed down your face, and you swore your heart stopped for a second. 

Johnnie reached up and wiped the tears away, pulling you closer than you thought you could ever be to someone. He felt you shake against him and kissed your shoulder softly. 

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore.” He whispered into your ear as you clung to him. 

You’re not sure how long you stayed like that but you knew that every second was healing you, and him. 

You slowly pulled away from him and leaned up to catch his lips in a kiss. He held your cheek in a firm but gentle grip. Separating from each other you smiled softly at him, which he returned. 

“I guess it’s time to get up then huh?” You ask with a grin. “No, actually it’s not,” he said and tried to stop you from sitting up. You gave in and placed one last kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed fully. “Let’s go, babe,” you said while stretching. 

Your shirt rode up the slightest bit revealing the slightest peek at the lace on your underwear. Johnnie couldn’t help but admire his beautiful girlfriend. 

You noticed his staring and rolled your eyes. “Staring is rude,” you chastised playfully. 

“I can’t help that the woman I love is absolutely beautiful,” he said and heat rushed to your cheeks. 

“Oh, hush. Now, c’mon let’s get up,” you told him. He rolled his eyes and begrudgingly began to get out of bed. You grabbed your phone from the charger and saw that you had a text from Tara. She asked if you and Johnnie were ready to go eat breakfast. 

You texted back letting her know that you’d be ready in 20 minutes. 

You walked into the bathroom to take a quick shower and brush your teeth, Johnnie did the same. The process of getting ready for the day was surprisingly easy. You were also surprised at how little of a hangover you had. You barely even remembered the events of last night. 

You were wearing a green floral pattern corset top and a pair of shorts. You wore the necklace that Johnnie had gotten you for your birthday, the pendant was your birth flower. 

Johnnie stepped out of the bathroom and looked at you. He smiled as your eyes met his, “Hey, Johnnie, what happened last night?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. Johnnie almost laughed as he thought of what happened last night. 

“Well, it was an eventful night for you. But I’ll spare you the details to save you the embarrassment,” he said and walked over to you dropping a kiss on your forehead. You sighed and shut your eyes tightly running your hands over your face. 

“It was that bad?” you asked him. “I thought it was adorable,” he said and grabbed your hands in his. 

“So it was that bad,” you sighed and let your head fall on his shoulder. He chuckled and kissed your head. 

“How are you feeling by the way?” he asked, and you shrugged. “I’m ok, not too bad Just a headache and a bit sick to my tummy,” you told him and he couldn’t help but smile at your use of the word tummy. “Maybe a bit of food will help. Let’s go meet everyone for breakfast,” he said. You grabbed your phone and he held the door open for you. 

You smiled at him in thanks. You waited for him as he walked out, he placed a hand on the small of your back guiding you forward. 

“Thank you for taking such good care of me, You always do,” you thanked him and he blushed a bit. “You do the same for me,” he replied and you smiled at him.

You met up with Tara, Jake, and Barry. You smiled and bid everyone good morning with the returned sentiment. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Tara asked his time. 

“I’m doing alright, I just have a headache and I’m a bit sick to my stomach,” You told her and she looked at you in confusion. 

“Girl, there’s no way you’re that ok. You literally didn’t recognize Johnnie and told him that you had a boyfriend to make him go away,” she explained to you with a laugh. 

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped. 

“Wait! No way, I have never seen (y/n) that drunk before. You didn’t recognize Johnnie?” Jake questioned incredulously. You covered your face with your hands and shook your head. 

“It’s ok (y/n), we all do stupid things when we’re drunk. Don’t worry about it,” Barry tried to reassure you. He squeezed your shoulder. 

“Guys, you didn’t have to tell her,” Johnnie said and wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling you into his chest. You hid yourself in his chest as they all laughed. 

“It was cute though from what you told me!” Tara exclaimed. “Still, she’s embarrassed about it now. I wasn’t even gonna tell her,” he said. 

“Sorry (y/n),” Tara said. “Didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Jake added. 

They saw your shoulders begin to shake and they grew concerned, as did Johnnie. 

“Hey, hey babe, are you crying?” he asked and pulled away from you. 

He saw that in fact, you were not crying at all. You were in fits of giggles. Johnnie smiled and chuckled with you. Your friend’s concern grew into confusion as you turned to face them. 

“I did that? Like, honestly?” you asked through laughter. Tara nodded her head hesitantly. 

“You’re not mad we told you?” she asked and you shook your head no. 

“No, I was completely shocked, and embarrassed of course but… that’s so crazy. I don’t think I’ve been that drunk before,” you told them with a smile. You could see the relief wash over them. 

“You actually scared me, I thought we made you cry,” Jake said and walked over to hug you. You hugged him back just as tightly, “I’m fine, no tears here,” you said as he let go of you. 

“Barry, I appreciate your reassurance. You’re always the one to make me feel better,” you said and gave him a side hug. Johnnie looked down at you and shook his head with a big smile. You looked up at him and linked your arm with his. 

“Breakfast time now!” you enthused. Everyone chuckled as they followed your lead to a table. 

You sat down and ordered your favorite breakfast with coffee/tea. Tara and you were mainly the ones to chat away. She told you more of what happened, and you all laughed. It was nice to be able to spend time with them. 

Tara wanted to attempt to tan one more time before the cruise ended. You decided to stay with the boys this time. She begrudgingly agreed once you promised to go to the beach with her when you got home. 

The day passed much too quickly for your liking, it was now almost 6 pm. The boys of course were starting to drink, and you had taken a pass after what happened the night before. You weren’t sure where Tara had run off to, but you assumed she was tipsy enough to want to talk with strangers now. Johnnie and Jake were both doing their best to hide how many drinks they had had. 

The night carried on like that until it all became too much. Barry and Tara helped you get Jake and Johnnie back to the rooms at the end of the night. Once you knew Barry and Jake were safe in their room you walked with Tara to hers. You made sure she got in safely and made your way to your room. 

Johnnie was doing his best to help you manage him into your room. He tried to walk as best as he could without stumbling around. He did rather well and as you entered the room he collapsed on the bed. 

You chuckled at the sight of him. His hair was a mess and his makeup smeared a bit. Just as he helped you the night before you helped him. He curled up next to you in bed and drifted off as soon as you began playing with his hair. 

“I love you, Johnnie,” you whispered and kissed his head before drifting off.

[graveyard-stray]

Morning Workout | Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader

Blurb

A/N: This is loosely based on that scene with David and Aaron in the elevator where he’s like “you workout this morning?” And hotch is awkwardly like “I didn’t…”

WC: 955

Includes: Mentions of sex, no actual smut, established relationship, secret relationship (not for long), the team makes fun of you and Hotch

It was an average morning in Virginia, It was warm out and the sun was shining brightly over Quantico. Aaron had just arrived at work, having dropped Jack off to school just before heading here.

He was dawning his usual suit and tie, and his briefcase was clutched tightly in his left hand. As he approached the elevator it opened, perfect timing he thought to himself before entering.

The elevator rode up two floors before stopping, the doors slid open to let someone else on. “Morning.” rang the familiar voice of his friend and coworker, David Rossi. “Goodmorning Dave.” He greeted him with a small smile.

David though looked him up and down as he stood next to him, the elevator now resuming its motion up. It didn’t take a profiler to notice Dave’s staring, and Hotch was confused. He turned and hummed inquisitively.

“You workout this morning?” David asks with a smirk, motioning with his eyes to Hotch’s hair which was messier than his usual perfectly kept look, and his tie which was coming undone. Hotch looks down before clearing his throat nervously and reaching up to fix his tie.

“I didn’t.” He mumbles as he makes an attempt to fix his appearance. Dave laughs to himself, “hmm I wonder who the lucky lady is.” He teases. Aaron stands up straighter than he already was, to try and be serious and not obvious, “its not what your thinking. Just issues taking Jack to school is all.” He said, which he had to admit was a horrible excuse.

Before Dave could reply the elevator stopped and the doors opened, allowing Aaron the perfect escape to a very awkward conversation. Dave on the other hand, knew he needed to figure out who Hotch was seeing and he knew it wouldn’t take long to get it out of him.

Hotch pushed open the glass doors to the BAU office and wasted no time heading up to his personal office, David entering the bullpen right behind him.

The first thing Rossi noticed upon entering the office was you, you were smiling and had this certain glow to you that was strange. Usually in the morning you were grumpy and tired, but not today. Today you were very awake and in a very good mood. The dots immediately connected in his head, you got laid this morning, by the one and only Aaron Hotchner.

Rossi quickly approached you, “someone’s in a good mood.” He teased as he placed his bag down on his desk. You turned to face him, “yeah, aren’t I always?” you responded with a smile. He chuckled, “not this early in the morning.”

You rolled your eyes at him before Derek also approached, “that’s exactly what I said.” He comments. “Your glowing kid.” he added. This warrants another eye roll from you, “Ya know I’m not that much younger than you Morgan.” You respond but Derek knows what your doing.

“Oh no no no, don’t you try to change the subject, You got some this morning, all I’m wondering is who!” He questioned, he was right of course. You nervously gazed up at Aaron’s office hoping to see him there but, he has already shut himself inside. This was the huge tell and you knew it.

Derek’s jaw practically dropped, “oh my god. You and- oh my god!” He laughed. you turned back to him quickly, “I don’t know what your talking about I am fine! I’m good!” you frantically defend.

In the mess of things Emily comes over, “now what is happening over here, it’s too early for all this chaos.” She questioned. Derek was still laughing, “Ya know why she’s in a good mood this morning?” He asked rhetorically. Emily cocked a brow at him. “She had a sweet wake up this morning, her and hotch!” upon hearing this Emily gasped.

“Are you SERIOUS!” She exclaimed, a big smile making its way onto her face. “WOW, you and hotch. I must be bad at my job because I did not see that coming!” She said as she sat down, truly in disbelief.

Rossi chimed in, “You should’ve seen Hotch this morning. Hair a mess, tie coming undone. It was truly a sight to behold.” He chuckled, half at the situation and half the teams reactions.

You were practically sweating at this point, very embarrassed infront of your team. Luckily for you, Aaron noticed the commotion and emerged from his office. “Do you all not have work to do? Because I would be happy to assign somethings.” He scolds from the balcony by his office. Everyone jumps at the sudden sound of his voice and the quickly nod and apologize.

“Oh and (Y/N), my office please.” He adds before going back to no his office, followed by the oooing and whistling of the team members.

You closed the door behind you as you stepped into his office, he was leaning against the edge of his desk and looking at you softly. “I take it they figured us out?” He asks, a little smile ghosting his lips.

All you could do was nod softly, “yeah..I’m so sorry Aaron! I didn’t mean to make it obvious, I didn’t even think it was.” you defended, a frown on your face. Aaron came over to you, placing a large calloused hand on your cheek. “Sweetheart. It’s alright. They were bound to find out eventually” he assured you.

“Your really not mad?” You asked meekly. He pressed a kiss to your temple and smiled down at you. “I promise.” He said.

You knew the team would continue to tease you about it, but you were sorta glad you could share your love for Aaron with your closest friends.

[amorisxx]

Snickerdoodle pt. v

pairing(s): Art Donaldson x reader, Tashi Duncan x reader, Patrick Zweig x reader summary: You try to navigate the complexities of a relationship involving Art and his wife, Tashi, as well as their boyfriend, Patrick. warnings: smut 18+, like three different sex scenes at least, masturbation, threesomes, consensual voyeurism, piv, everyone is bisexual, the trio kinda shares reader, adults (parents even) running around like horny college students, a bit of domesticity, silly poly adventures, hastily proofread word count: 6.5K prev part

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

It’s feels like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

You quickly snatch your hand away from Tashi’s neck. She clears her throat, and you bring both palms to smooth down your thighs. 

The sun isn’t shining as brightly as it was before, but it’s enough to feel exposed under the scrutiny of Art. 

Though, you can tell that he isn’t angry about what he just walked in on. Instead, he looks like he wants to get a closer look, but stayed back out of fear of interrupting.

He’s still standing in the doorway when you remember the reason you were there in the first place. 

“Wait—where’s Kaleb?” You gasp.

“He’s uh,” Art stammers. “I left him back in the kitchen. He wanted a post-training shake.” He’s got his hands on his waist as he continues to assess the two of you. “I told him I was gonna go find you guys…” he trails off, finally making his way closer to the couch that you two are occupying. 

You peer up at him like a child about to be corrected. 

“So, uh, what’s this?” He says dragging his hand under his chin like he’s amused. 

“Um,” you glance at Tashi. She’s sporting an equally amused expression as she takes in Art’s still evident bulge. You go to answer, but she beats you to it. 

“What’s it look like?” 

Art’s eyes cut to hers, and they appear to have a conversation between their gazes that you aren’t privy to. You decide that’s your cue and stand to leave the room. 

Just when you think you’re going to slip past, Art catches your wrist in his hand. 

“Where’re you going?” His voice comes out in that gentle, calm tone that you’ve come to expect from him, but his eyes are sharp. His gaze alone making you feel like he’s holding you down with a hand wrapped around your neck. 

“I was gonna go get Kaleb,” you murmur. 

“Alright,” he brings a hand to your waist. “Just a second?” 

You nod despite yourself. 

His thumb rubs over your hip, making you shiver slightly. He drags his eyes down your figure before looking over to Tashi. You follow him.

She’s staring at the both of you, lip tugged between her teeth. Her legs are crossed neatly. The hungry look in her eyes does nothing to deter from the regality she’s currently exuding. 

You’re still staring at the visage of Tashi when you feel Art’s lips capture yours, pulling your attention back to him. 

You melt into him, instinctively bringing your hands to trail up his arms. His skin is slightly damp and cool to the touch as your fingertips trace the muscles that flex as he wraps his arms around you tighter. He presses the palm of his hand against your spine as your head tilts back to allow him into your mouth. 

The way Art kisses you is familiar, yet the feel of him still ignites something in your belly. It’s almost violent, the way it completely takes you over. Nothing else exists. Just his lips, his tongue. His hands that pull you closer to him. His teeth that nip at your skin. Just him. 

You gasp out his name as he dips his head down to press open mouthed kisses along your jaw. He has you fully pressed up against his front, one hand cradling your head and the other holding you in place by the hip. You release a shaky moan when you feel his tongue lave at the skin below your ear. 

There’s an almost imperceptible creak behind you, but Art’s ministrations keep you fixed on him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs continuing to place kisses onto your skin. “Y’know that?” 

Before you can respond, you feel a hand snake around your waist. It’s not Art’s. 

You look down to see their slender fingers traveling down your hipbone and shudder when you feel stiff nipples press into your back. 

Tashi carefully pulls your hair away from your neck, placing a delicate kiss to the skin there. The motion makes you arch your back into her, which she takes as an indication of your consent. 

Your breathing starts to dramatically increase as you take in the feel of Tashi’s hands sliding over your body along with Art’s. He wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours as she takes over nipping at your neck from behind. 

Tashi seems to enjoy pinching your skin between her teeth and watching as it makes you squirm in their hold. One bite in particular makes you whine into Art’s mouth. He runs his thumb over your bottom lip, gently shushing you as she rolls her tongue over the stinging skin to soothe you. 

You whimper, but relax into them once again. 

Art cups your face in his hands, whispering “good girl” against your plush lips. Your pulse quickens at his praise. 

You want to fuck him so bad. Both of them. 

And when Tashi lithely brings her hands under your top, trails her nails up your skin before pinching your nipples, you almost give in. 

But you remember the reason you’re here. 

“Wait,” you reluctantly pull away. 

Tashi releases her hold on you, and Art steps backwards to give you some space. But he grabs ahold of your hand instead, not ready to let you go just yet. 

You rub your thumb over his hand in yours. “I need to go,” you say softly. “I’ve gotta get Kaleb home.” 

He nods, allowing you to release his hand. 

You clear your throat. “And, um, I also think I need some time to…think about all of this.” 

Art looks confused by your statement. As if reading his mind, Tashi answers for you. 

“Yeah, of course, you probably need some time to process,” she reassures you, but her gaze is locked on her husband. Her eyes telling him “let her have this, don’t push her.” 

When you find Kaleb, he’s knocked out on the sofa, clearly worn out from the day. His protein shake from before sits half full on the coffee table. Art tells you that it’s more banana smoothie than anything. He offers to carry him to the car, buckling him into his booster seat. After softly shutting the door, he makes his way to your side. 

“You’re not upset are you?” He’s giving you that look. The one he makes before resorting to groveling. 

You sigh. “No, Art, I just,” you glance at your son through the window. He’s still sound asleep. “I just found out some things today that surprised me. About our relationship.”

He swallows before leaning his side against your car, head hanging low as he takes in your words. 

“I didn’t know Tashi knew about us.” You say simply. 

Art raises his head. “I—I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

You scoff. “Of course it was, Art! You know that would’ve made things easier for me.” You cut a glance at Kaleb again as he shifts in his car seat. You wince before lowering your voice. “I felt like I was your mistress, Art, why didn’t you tell me the truth?” You ask. “And I don’t buy it’s because you didn’t think it was a big deal.”

You raise your eyebrows at him as he picks at his fingers. “Art?” 

He sighs, stepping away from the car before turning to face you fully. “I wasn’t sure you’d be into that.” You furrow your brows. He stammers to fix his statement. “I mean I didn’t know if you would want to get involved in a situation like ours. It was almost easier to just not talk about any of it,” he trails off. “And I could pretend I was just a normal guy who met this wonderful woman. And I didn’t want to ruin it.” He’s looking at you with pleading eyes. 

Art’s voice softens. “But I know it was selfish of me to avoid it because of my own comfort. I should’ve been transparent with you from the beginning.” 

You only cross your arms. 

Art steps closer to you. “I promise I was going to talk to you about it—about everything…especially now that I—“ 

“Even about Patrick?” You raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Were you planning to tell me about that as well?” 

“Yes,” he nods. “I was also going to tell you about Patrick.” He reaches for your hand that’s tucked into your arm. 

You’ve learned that, for Art, part of the communication process is maintaining a physical connection. It’s like if he isn’t touching you in some way, the words won’t resonate. So, you let him take your hand in his. 

“I also wasn’t sure how’d you’d react to that,” he mumbles. “Not everyone is keen on finding out that the man they’re sleeping with is also attracted to men.” 

You almost can’t believe him. “Art—“ you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “It’s me. Of course I don’t care that you aren’t straight, hell, neither am I.” You laugh lightly. It brings a soft smile to his face. 

“If anything, it would’ve been good to know before I slept with him,” you say, quickly looking off before he can process your words. 

“Wait, what?” 

You sigh internally. 

“When did this happen?”

You try to wave him off. “Oh it was just a random thing a little while ago. We were both high, and I’d ran into him at a gas station one time, and it was my anniversary week, and you were busy and it just happened…” you say, stringing all your words together. “You know how it is.” 

He shakes his head. “When were you planning on telling me about this?”

You bite your lip, avoiding his gaze. 

Art sighs at your lack of response. “You know what? Let’s save that for a later conversation.”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best,” you say as you turn to check on Kaleb. “I’d better go,” you nod your head in his direction. 

Art takes a look at your son before agreeing. “Yeah, it’s getting late.”

He lingers in his driveway until you’ve buckled your seatbelt, making you promise to text him when you’ve made it home safely. 

ᯓ

You take some time to process the situation you’ve ended up in. It’s harder than you’d expected. You’d gotten so used to Art’s presence in your life that not seeing him makes you feel like an addict going through withdrawals. Your fingers itch to text him when you see something he’d like, and you yearn to at least hear his voice at night when you’re alone in bed and devastatingly horny. 

Some nights, when you're at your lowest, you wonder if Art is also thinking of you, if he ever touches himself to the thought. You bite your lip, maybe he buries himself in the warmth of Tashi to cull the ache, or maybe it's Patrick he turns to.

You ease the throbbing between your thighs to the looping thought of him and Tashi and Patrick, and Art and Tashi, and Patrick and Art.

Despite it all, you reluctantly ignore Art’s requests to meet up, emphasizing that you just need a bit more time. You don’t think you can handle seeing him. 

In truth, you’re feeling scared again. Although Tashi had effectively shown you that she was a willing participant in this, your nerves still get the best of you. Your anxiety working to come up with all types of catastrophic outcomes. 

Worries triggered by deeply rooted insecurities fester in your brain like what if Art and Tashi really are using you? What if this is just a temporary thing? Something to spice up their marriage. Maybe the Patrick thing wasn’t enough for them. Will they drop you once they’ve gotten their fix? 

And even worse, what if it’s not just a fling? What if you can’t ever imagine going back to how your life was before Art? How would it even work? How would Kaleb react? 

It's evidently clear how much Kaleb adores Lily, but you're not sure how he'd approach the idea of possibly being step-siblings. God, how would you ever begin to explain the the complexities of your relationship to an eight year old?

Thinking about it makes your head throb and your stomach churn. So, you settle for avoidance. You don’t have to confront the unknown if you never encounter it. Easy. 

ᯓ

Unfortunately, your attempt at going cold turkey with the Donaldson’s is thwarted when you see them at a PTA meeting. You’d gotten there early, as usual. Nancy’s husband, Frank, had helped you carry your cookie-filled containers into the building. You think he might just enjoy getting first dibs on whatever goodies you've decided to bring.

You’re surprised to see Tashi as she’d stopped regularly attending them after Art retired. She chooses the seat next to yours, placing her purse down before draping her Burberry coat over the chair. Art pulls out the seat beside her, stealing a glance at you as he settles in. 

For the entirety of the meeting, you’re completely distracted. You keep glancing at Tashi’s long legs that are crossed beside you, your eyes trailing from the pointed toes of her shoes up to where her hands are clasped in her lap. You think you’re being discreet, but when Tashi stands to greet amigurumi Cynthia, who’s eager to tell her about the new options on her Etsy shop, Art catches your eyes with a sly smirk. 

Most of the parents have started to leave, but you remain seated, unable to free yourself from this obvious trap.

Art takes the opportunity to slide into Tashi’s empty seat, smug smile still stamped onto his face. You look down at the napkin he’s holding with a half-eaten snickerdoodle cookie. “So, how are you?” He asks before taking another bite. He's trying to ease his way into it, you can tell. He presents the question so casually, but underneath that cool collectedness, you know he intends to ensnare you.

Your chest rises as you inhale. “Hmmm, it’s a Monday night, and I’m stuck here,” you tease. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

“Yeah, and at least we have good snacks.” He offers. 

You nod in agreement before gesturing for his cookie. He holds it out to you and you pinch off a piece before bringing it to your mouth. Art watches as your tongue darts out to lick the crumbs that stick to your lipgloss. Whatever is swirling around in his gaze is exactly why you’ve been avoiding him lately. 

You swallow when Art turns to face you. His hair has gotten longer, making his curls drape over his forehead as he leans against the chair. He gives you a soft grin. “So…how do you feel about going to get dinner tonight?”

And there it is.

“Oh…um,” you start, searching for an excuse. 

“Before you start, I know your mom keeps Kaleb on days like this.” 

You curse internally. “Okay, well what about Lily?”  

“She’s at home with Patrick.” 

You glance over at Tashi, who’s attempting to end her conversation with Cynthia, and begin to open your mouth. 

“And Tashi’s fine with it. It was her idea.” He says, absolutely beaming. 

You sigh and stand up from your chair. 

He leans forward, elbows pressed into his knees. “So, what do you say?”

You groan. “Fine, I’ll come.” 

The two of them help you pack up your containers, patiently waiting as you open the trunk and instruct them on where to place them. When you turn around from shutting the trunk, Tashi steps forward, closing the distance between you two.

It feels eerily similar to a night, mere months ago, in that very same parking lot. 

“Thanks for agreeing to dinner,” she says softly, reaching out to rub her palm down your arm. Even through the sleeve of your puffer coat, you shiver at her touch. Thankfully, it’s cold out, so you can blame it on the temperature. 

ᯓ

About an hour later, you’re seated at a cozy restaurant, tucked into the corner booth. It's not especially busy, but a delicate clatter of voices and clinking utensils accompany the soft jazz that's playing. You’re sandwiched between Art and Tashi as they talk about the first time they met. 

They tell you about the Junior U.S. Open, how both Art and Patrick asked for Tashi’s number, how she had promised not to be a homewrecker. You smile wistfully, the thought of them young, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed making you feel a sense of nostalgia on their behalf. 

Tashi places her hand on your thigh for emphasis when she tells you that Art had been so adorable and polite. “All he wanted to talk about was how amazing my tennis was.” She grins at him before taking a sip from her glass. “That’s probably why I kissed him first.” 

“First?” You lift your brows. 

She nods. 

“So, did you like all kiss at the same time or…?” You ask, glancing between her and Art. 

She hums out a laugh. “Look, I was eighteen, you can’t blame me for not wanting to choose.” 

Art chuckles. “Well, what’s your excuse now?”

He’s joking, but you see the way his mouth slightly twitches. 

Tashi scans his face and purses her lips. “Two parasites latched onto me when I was young, and I still haven’t figured out how to remove them.” 

This seems to bring a genuine smile to his face. He looks at you. “You see what I have to deal with?” 

You shake your head at their antics. You think that maybe you can relate to eighteen year old Tashi. 

It should feel odd. Being on what feels like a date with the man you’ve been having an affair with and his wife. Yet, when you all leave the restaurant, and they walk you back to your car, one of them on each side, you think that it feels surprisingly natural. 

When Tashi leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, you sigh into the cool night, eyes fluttering shut. 

And when Art inevitably presses his forehead to yours before kissing your tingling lips, you know this is something you won’t be able to avoid any longer.

ᯓ

Before long, you fall into a routine with the two of them. They take every opportunity they can to wine and dine you, and when Tashi is working, Art has no trouble keeping you occupied. 

The time you spend with him is not much different from before. Except now, instead of coming to your place every time, you spend the night with him on your free weekends. 

Art lets out a deep sigh that reverberates through him when he finally sinks into your cunt in his marital bed. He presses you into downy pillows that smell like his wife and whispers words of praise. Telling you how perfect your pussy is, how you feel so good around him. You get high on it, head almost exploding from the rush of it all.

Maybe it’s the freedom that’s come from you all being on the same page, but sex with Art ascends to a higher level. Without the guilt weighing you down, the only thing you feel in your gut when you’re with him is his cock as he pounds into you. 

Art fucks you like he’s determined to make you never want to leave him. Every stroke feels purposeful. Every motion communicating something you’ve feared confronting. 

After Art coaxes a third orgasm out of you one night, you cling to his tacky body as hot tears spill from your eyes. 

He’s quick to wipe them with his thumb, asking if you’re alright. You can only nod and sniffle as you let him hold you and press kisses to your tear stained face. 

He says something to you, but the words don’t register as you give in to the seduction of sleep, your body having been exhausted beyond repair. The three words he’d uttered float over your head and disappear into the dark.

ᯓ

Art and Kaleb continue their tennis lessons. Apparently, he’s showing a considerable amount of potential. And Art’s eyes light up when he boasts about how much Kaleb has improved since they started. 

He wins his first junior tournament, and you swear you see Art wipe a tear. He ignores your taunts and asks Kaleb how he’d like to celebrate. Without reservation, he excitedly asks to get ice cream with Lily. 

It’s late November, and the night air is likely too brisk for it, but you and Art agree to take them to their favorite ice cream shop. You hesitantly let Lily order for you, as she’d asked you to pick out a table for them and urged you to “trust the process.” 

You watch them with a smile on your face as Kaleb all but presses his face to the glass obnoxiously, which makes Lily pull him by the arm and say something that you can’t hear. Whatever it is makes your son roll his eyes, but he uses his sleeve to wipe the spot where he’d left condensation on the glass. 

When the three of them join you at a table next to the window, Lily instructs Art to feed you her surprise concoction as her and Kaleb await your reaction. You close your eyes before playfully glaring at them in suspicion, then let Art place the spoon in your mouth. 

“How is it?” 

“Hmm…chocolatey.” You answer. “I like it.” You take the cup and spoon from Art as you dig into your chocolate ice cream with M&M's sprinkled on top. Lily grins as Kaleb insists on trying yours. Art chose strawberry flavored, to which you wrinkle your nose. 

Later, the two of you sneak a kiss after the kids fall asleep in the backseat, and you decide you can’t get enough of the taste of strawberries.

When Art drops you and Kaleb off at home, he tells you goodbye with a quick kiss to your hand. You’re smiling from ear to ear as the cool wind whips your hair around. He attempts to say those three words again, but he’s interrupted by Lily groaning loudly from the car that her tummy hurts. When he turns back to you, you’re already chasing after Kaleb who’s run to the front door holding his trophy over his head. 

ᯓ

“Don’t look at him,” Tashi tuts at you. “Keep your eyes right here, baby.” She tilts your chin up with her index finger, forcing you to look at her.

You tear your eyes away from Art where he kneels on the bed next to Tashi. Like her, he’s completely naked. His cock is bobbing between his milky thighs, still shiny from your spit and his precum.

Tashi had rubbed your clit as you sucked him off moments ago. But, she pulled you off of him before he got a chance to cum, making you lay down under her.

You toss your head back when she aligns her pussy with yours, mouth falling open. 

She starts gently rocking back and forth, your clits bumping and sticking to each other.

She turns her head in Art’s direction and takes his mouth in hers. You cant your hips up to meet hers as you take in the way their mouths move against one another. 

“You like seeing me fuck your little toy?” Tashi whispers into Art’s mouth. He groans her name, mouth open wantonly against hers. 

“Look at her, baby, she’s so pretty like this, huh?” 

Art nods and tries to reach out a hand to touch you, any part of you, but Tashi places a hand on his wrist. 

“Hold on.” She looks at you. “You want him?”

You keenly nod your head. 

“Say please,” she murmurs, still grinding into you. 

You choke out a moan. “Please, Tashi can I—can I have him?”

She looks at Art and nods her head down at you, giving him permission to touch. 

Art leans down to grab your face between his hands, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.  

Then, he’s shimmying himself down to the bed to lie down beside you. He finds your neck and starts trailing kisses there. You arch your back as he tweaks your nipple with his thumb and forefinger before skimming down your stomach. 

He replaces his fingers with his mouth as Tashi continues to use your cunt. Art’s eyes flutter shut when he closes his mouth around one of your nipples. He releases a muffled moan, and you realize he’s grinding his dick between the space created by your hip and the mattress. 

He tries to inch his hand down lower, where yours and Tashi’s pussies are kissing each other. When his fingertips brush your clit, you shudder, and Tashi slaps his hand away. 

He easily recovers, bringing his palm up to caress under your breasts. 

Art seeks out your mouth again, moans into it as the rutting of his hips begins to sync with the motion of Tashi rocking against you.

You gasp. “It’s too much—m'gonna—”

Art whines against your mouth, and you feel his hot cum coat your thigh as his hips stutter against you. Tashi releases a guttural moan that makes you reach out for her. She presses her fingers onto your tongue as you begin to convulse below her. 

You can feel her throbbing against you when you come down from your high. Art’s head is pressed against yours as he stares at where you and his wife are still connected. 

Before climbing off of you, Tashi splays her palm over Art’s face, pushing him backwards, mumbling about how he “made a mess.”

You giggle in agreement, making him bite down onto your bare shoulder with mock annoyance.

Tashi walks to their large master bathroom, her nude hips swaying. You peel your eyes away from her as you turn your head to face Art. 

He smiles softly before rubbing his nose against yours. You’re giddy, and your eyes are twinkling, and Art feels like his heart is beating too fast to breathe. He has your full attention, so he says it. 

“I love you.”

The words have no place to go but to your ears. Without thinking, you pull him in by the back of his neck, press your forehead against his, your eyes locking. “I love you too.”

ᯓ

“You know I think it’s really unfair that you make me babysit while the three of you fuck without me.” 

“Oh, please, spare me, Patrick,” Art says as he bumps his shoulder against his on his way around the kitchen island. 

“No, I’m serious, you two’ve basically been courting her,” he points at Tashi and Art. “As I stay at home playing Stepford wife,” he pouts. “When do I get my turn with her?” 

“Wow, Patrick, your turn?” You sneer at him. “I’m not a pony.”

“Sorry, that came out wrong,” he says, grinning at you. “When do I get my second turn?” 

“Oh, screw you!” You say shoving him by the arm. “Is that all I am to you?” 

Tashi tries to hide her laugh in her cup of coffee. 

You attempt to maintain your scowl of disapproval, but the steam seeps out of you when Patrick envelops you in his arms from behind, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “Of course not. You know I like you for your big…brain.” 

You roll your eyes at his inability to be serious about anything, but instinctually lean back into his chest. 

The two of you hadn’t slept together since your rainy day way back when, and not for his lack of trying or your lack of desire. The tension between you two threatened to boil over at any moment, but you thought it was a good idea to ease into this thing with the trio.

So, you had refrained from fucking Patrick, but you did spend time together when possible. When he wasn't busy with tennis, which wasn't very often.

Despite his foolishness, Patrick makes a good friend. He’s surprisingly easy to vent to. You never have to worry about the risk of him passing judgment.

Like the time you’d gone on a rant about your ex-husband and his fiancée.

“I mean it’s fucking sickening the way she acts so polite now! The bitch had the nerve to ask me to be one of her bridesmaids, Patrick! Her bridesmaid.”

He frowned at you around his cigarette. “Ugh, that’s fucked.”

"That’s what I said!"

“I hope she has a freak accident before the wedding,” he murmured. “Maybe not fatal, but like a coma or something so you don’t have to deal with her.”

“Ugh, no, that would only delay the process and give Chris a reason to play victim for however long,” you said dismissively. “I can hear him now,”you deepened your voice to imitate him. “I can't believe you’d try to hold me accountable for my wrongdoings at a time like this. My freaking fiancée is in a coma.”

Patrick chuckled. “Yeah, true, but honestly, that bastard would probably ditch her anyway. It’s hard to be a trophy wife from a hospital bed.”

ᯓ

He has a way of looking at you and seeing through all the layers. In a way, you think you two were bound to bond, both being connected to a married couple.

During moments like this, when you’re all together, it feels like you’re less outnumbered. Though, you suppose Art clings to you too much to ever really be free of him, not that you’d want to anyway. The two of you had been attached at the hip ever since he told you he loved you. Patrick had joked that you were in the honeymoon phase.

Tashi leans across the marble countertop, and pats Patrick on the cheek. “Aww do you feel left out?��� She coos to him before pushing herself up from the barstool. 

He brushes off her derision opting to focus on eating the rest of your breakfast croissant.

Art can’t help but snicker as Tashi gushes to Patrick about how good you taste coming on her tongue. She goes to place her mug in the sink before grabbing a handful of your ass, making you gasp as her nails poke into your skin. Patrick groans around his croissant and glares at Art, his face already tinted pink. 

Tashi leans her forehead against yours, the two of you giggling before she pecks your nose sweetly. “Okay, I have to go,” she sighs. 

You nod, but pull her in for a kiss on the lips, dreading the end of your time together. You had been spending the weekend with them while Kaleb stayed at his dad’s. But, Tashi would be leaving for the day as she had an event to attend. 

“Maybe the three of you can catch up while I’m gone,” she winks before squeezing Patrick’s shoulder. Art rolls his eyes at the implication, but he smiles when Tashi whispers something in his ear on the way out. 

ᯓ

After debating about how to spend your day, you begrudgingly agree to join Art and Patrick on the tennis court. The sun is offering enough heat for you to feel comfortable as you chase Patrick’s serves. You start out teaming up with Art, the two of you playing against him. 

Patrick quickly figures out that he can win by aiming between the two of you. Art, ever the gentleman, only returns the ones Patrick serves directly to him, leaving you the opportunity to hit the ball. While you, on the other hand, assume that Art’s going to get it, leaving no one to actually return the ball. Once the two of you get on the same page, Patrick has won enough games to win the entire match. 

When you switch, and Art later beats you and Patrick, you start to think that maybe you’re the problem. 

You feel like a kid again, the three of you running around as your laughs ricochet against the court. You cheer when you manage to actually place the yellow ball where you want it to go. You had served an ace, but you're sure Art had purposely let you have it. By the time you’re done, you’re sweating and beaming. Art dabs your forehead with a towel, and Patrick gives you a piggy back ride back to the house. 

You swing your legs back and forth and place a kiss to his ear. It should gross you out when you taste the saltiness of his sweat on your lips, but it only makes you tighten your arms around him more. 

It occurs to you that you might’ve forgotten how to have fun as an adult. It’s been so long since you’ve felt true joy in a relationship. Your marriage to your ex had sapped you of your gleeful youth, and for awhile, you didn’t think you’d ever get it back. 

You hadn’t had the official “what are we talk” yet, but you know you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. 

So, when Patrick later dumps you onto the bed, after you’ve all had lunch and cleaned up, you sink into the mattress and let him press kisses all over your face. 

“I wanna eat you up,” he groans, the vibrations making you laugh as his beard scratches your jaw. 

You extend your arm out for Art who is already making his way towards the two of you. Both men hover above you, moving in sync as they mouth over your skin. Every so often their lips meet each other, tongues darting out to get a taste. 

Patrick promptly pulls the oversized t-shirt you stole from Art over your head, making your messy curls even more chaotic. 

“I’ve waited so long to fuck you again,” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. 

You try to tell him he’s being quite dramatic, but a moan interrupts you when he starts twirling his tongue around your hardened bud, at the same time as Art drags his wet mouth down your abdomen. 

He’s on a sure path toward your underwear, stopping to admire your face before dipping his fingers into the hem. 

Patrick gets impatient and places his hand over Art’s, making him tug your panties down faster. But before either of them can get their mouths on you, you raise your leg up and place the sole of your foot against his abdomen. Patrick looks up at you, his pupils dilated and eyebrows scrunched together. 

Art’s wearing a similar expression, and you can barely contain your grin as you push your foot forward, making Patrick raise up on his knees. You push yourself up and lean back on your palms. 

“Not yet, I wanna do something different,” you say coyly. 

“Yeah?” Art, always eager to please you, leans forward and plants a kiss on your collarbone. “What do you wanna do, baby?”

You trace the side of his face with your fingertips before tucking a few loose blonde strands behind his ear. “Show me what you do when it’s just the two of you.” 

Art almost chokes, clearly not having expected your request. Patrick smirks. 

“Well, well, well,” he says, crawling towards you. “Who would’ve taken you for a voyeur, huh?” 

“Shut up, Patrick,” you say, grabbing his jaw in your fingers. You level your face with his. “Just show me.” You say as your lips brush against his. “Can you do that for me?” 

“I’ll do whatever you want,” he says and pulls you into a rough kiss. You moan into it before pointedly shoving him off. 

With your heart thrumming and your lip tucked between your teeth, you inch backwards, propping yourself up against the headboard. You meet Art’s gaze, and all it takes is a short nod from you to snap him out of his trance. 

To your surprise, Art grabs for Patrick first. He leans down over him, pulling him in by the back of his neck. He uses his thumb to tilt Patrick’s head back as he deepens their kiss. You think you can feel the butterflies in your own belly as you know just what it feels like to have Art kiss you like that. 

He strips Patrick of his shirt, barely breaking the kiss and slowly lowers himself into his lap. They continue to make out sloppily for what feels like hours before Patrick brings his hands around Art’s waist and pushes his shirt up as well. It’s then that you notice, Art has been lazily rolling his hips into Patrick’s. The sight makes your clit throb, and you drum your fingers on your knee in an attempt to withhold from touching yourself.

Art laces his fingers through Patrick’s dark curls as he starts to plant sloppy kisses along Art’s jaw. He eventually licks a stripe up the side of his neck before nipping at his earlobe, to which Art bucks his hips forward. His head is thrown back, eyes shut tight in pleasure. Just Patrick’s touch alone seems to be getting him off. 

Once they’ve rid each other of their remaining clothes, the two come back together. This time, Art traces figure eights along Patrick’s skin with his tongue as he lets his large palms roam over his body. When he gets to the small of his back, he bites down into his neck gently before spreading his cheeks apart and dipping his middle finger between them. 

You think they’ve both forgotten about you as they get lost in each other. Patrick takes both his and Art’s hard cocks into his hand, slowly jerking them.

You can’t resist it anymore. You bring your hand between your legs and start rubbing circles over your aching clit. 

The action must catch Patrick’s attention as he glances over at you with a sly smile. Suddenly, he leans over and cups his hand under your chin. He sticks his thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, and motions for you to spit. 

You obey him and spit into his waiting hand. Patrick then takes your saliva and uses it to glide over his and Art’s members. 

Art releases a broken moan as Patrick’s hand moves around them faster. They start to take turns pushing their tongues into each other’s mouths. And at the same time, you dip your fingers into your slick and spread it over your clit. 

When Art starts circling his middle finger around Patrick’s hole and humping into his hand, your head falls back against the bed frame, your eyes still glued to them. 

Before long, they’re spurting white ropes of cum against each other as you follow behind in quick succession. 

You finish with a whine, your knees drawing together as you clench your thighs. 

Patrick is slumped against Art, his head laid on his shoulder as they both watch you. “That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen,” he laughs, making Art also release a full bellied laugh, his eyes crinkling.

ᯓ

When Tashi comes home later, she flicks on the light to find the three of you in a pile on her bed. 

You’re halfway straddling Art, cheek pressed against his chest. Patrick’s heavy arm drapes over your back, his face shoved into Art's shoulder as he softly snores. 

She sighs at the spectacle. Yet when she goes to turn the lights off again, she wears a smile on her face. 

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

a/n: I had to fight through a bout of writer's block and the pressures of being a senior in college to get this done. I hope you guys enjoyed it. <3 as always, my asks are open!

Tags: @fallout-girl219

[hysteria-things]

TREEHOUSE

based off of this, this, this, & this

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!nate x virgin!sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: reminiscing your relationship with nate where it all started: in his treehouse.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, FLUFF, swearing, p in v, praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,181

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day ONE of nate week!

so pumped😇

creaking from the wooden panels of nate’s treehouse sound from underneath your shoes. some would say treehouses aren’t for nineteen-year-olds, but your boyfriend will strongly disagree.

it still stands after almost two decades, hundreds of memories made here with him and your older brothers. it’s been a while since you’ve been up here, but even if he doesn’t admit it, you can tell nate still hangs out from how tidy it is.

“you still have the pirate hats.” you giggle, pointing to them neatly placed on a shelf above the small sofa he has against the wall.

each hat matched your personalities, with your names written in your favorite colors. they’re faded by now, but you can still make the writing out.

christopher. matthew. nicolas. nathan. y/n.

your brothers are wonderful with you dating their best friend because nate liked you for years. ever since you were children; and he never gave up on you.

summer break is a kid’s favorite time of year. the sun is shining, the nice weather, hanging out with your friends day by day. it’s great.

four boys bicker in front of the ladder, and a young y/n is sitting on the porch steps playing with her dolls.

“dude, just ask already!” chris argues, holding a fake pirate hook in his hand.

“yeah, what’s taking so long?” nick chimes in.

matt’s arms are crossed over his chest. “he’s got a little crush on our sister, that’s why.”

“i do not!” nate yells, eyepatch over his eye and his pirate hat lopsided. he stomps his feet in a tantrum-like manner. “girls probably don’t even like playing pirates!”

they bicker for seconds more, until matt’s had enough and pushes the boy toward you. he hesitates, but walks to the stairs. “hey, y/n!” he exclaims, taking a seat next to you.

you smile, setting your toys down. “hi, nate.”

“would you— um…” he turns to the triplets, and they motion him to hurry up. he sighs, looking back at you. “would you like to play pirates with us? there’s an extra hat.”

bringing your finger to your chin, you think and then nod. “sure! i’d love to play pirates!”

nate grins from ear to ear, grabbing your hand and leading you toward your siblings.

that’s not the only heirloom hidden in plain sight. the screws are still stuck in the wall where the NO GIRLS ALLOWED sign used to be until you guys started hanging out alone and he threw it away immediately.

there are still old decorations from previous years, like the spongebob blanket or the mario and luigi plushies. as he got older, though, the decorating became more mature.

another core memory is when he asked you to be his girlfriend right where you’re standing. well, he tried to ask, but he couldn’t get the words out.

“can i ask you something?” nate questions, refusing to make eye contact as he fidgets with the gaming controller in his hand.

you nod. “of course.”

“so, um… do you want to, uh—” he stammers as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“what do you mean?” you giggle.

“um, y’know. do you want— uh, to be— um—”

“are you asking me to be your girlfriend, nate?” you ask, smirking while raising a brow.

his face heats up, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah.”

the sound from the small TV completely fades, your inner thoughts taking over instead. now, it’s nighttime, and the fairy lights in the treehouse make the room dimly lit.

your head rests on his chest, his heartbeat soothing to your ears.

even though you guys have been together for a while now, you’ve never done it. hell, you’re still a virgin. nate’s been patient with you every step of the way. “what’re you thinking about?” he asks.

shaking your head to snap out of it, you look up, already seeing him staring down at you. “nothing.”

he knows you’re lying, and patiently waits there until you sigh. “i’m ready.” you start as he listens intently. “i want to… have sex… with you.”

he smiles warmly, taking a piece of hair and placing it behind your ear. “are you sure?”

nodding, he then starts to lean into where his lips ghost yours. “yeah?” he whispers, your eyes set on his mouth, so badly wanting to kiss him.

the softness of his lips syncing with yours has your legs squeezed together. he leans more in, deepening the kiss while also laying you flat on the cushions. your knuckles turn white to how hard you’re gripping on his shoulders when he starts to remove your pants and underwear.

“you’re tense.” he points out, rubbing the outside of your thighs in a soothing motion. “relax.”

you didn’t realize how tense your body was until he pointed it out. taking a deep breath, he starts to untie his bottoms.

“breathe for me, okay?” he reassures, lining himself up before slowly moving his pelvis forward. it hurts for sure, but it’s more of a pressure feeling. “relax.” he says again, feeling your anxiety.

a pained moan leaves your lips once he’s in, and it just hits you that your childhood friend, who turned into a crush, and is now your boyfriend is inside of you. “you okay?”

you nod, taking his hand in yours. “i know you tell your brothers everything but—” he cuts himself off with a groan when his dick twitches, desperately wanting to move. he starts to thrust his hips slowly, low whines tickling from your throat. “for my own sake, don’t tell them about this.”

his thrusts get gradually faster, but they’re soft so he doesn’t hurt you in any way. the pain soon turns to pleasure, arms wrapping around his neck. he keeps asking if you’re okay every two minutes, so to shut him up you kiss him passionately.

“nate.” you exhale, licking your lips and lifting your head slightly to look at where you’re conjoined. his dick is coated with your juices, the slap of your thighs banging together.

“nathan.” you moan louder, throwing your head back and arching.

“you’re letting me fuck you so well.” he grunts when your walls clench around him. “you’re so pretty; i love you so much.”

your eyes widen in surprise. it could be the intensity of the moment, but that’s the first time he’s ever said those words. “i-i love you too.”

clenching again, your legs twitch with each movement of his hips. “i-i’m going to cum.”

he pecks your forehead. “go ahead, baby. you’re doing so good for me.”

you whimper, your orgasm flowing out of your pussy and onto his base. he fucks you a little more through your high, before pulling out and painting your stomach white.

whispering sweet nothings into your ear, he lays on top of you, rubbing his hands all over your body. “i meant what i said, by the way. that i love you.”

you smile, blushing at the same time. “so did i.”

that’s when you realized your relationship will only blossom from here, all because of this goddamn treehouse.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬. ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: just like the clouds, my eyes will do the same…

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: genshin impact | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neuvillette/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 0.86k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: previously established relationship, age gap, character death, angst, blood, dragon reader,

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: haven’t done the archon quest but god i’m in love w him so have this that i literally just fucking wrote start to finish

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

it’s almost cruel, how bright the sun was shining. it shone so strongly it hurt your eyes, made you squint as you gazed up at him — you, his longest lasting companion, and you, who he shields from the burning sun with his own body. the shadow his head and broad shoulders cast across your face is cool and welcome, and you ignore the way his hands shake. 

“i’d do it all over, you know,” you whisper quietly, and he tenses at the sound of your trembling voice, his grip on you tightening. “if the gods were to grant me a second chance at life, i’d make the same decisions — i’d follow for our eternity, and i’d stay. with you.”

“stupid girl, you talk too much,” neuvillette whispers, clutching you as close and as tight as he can without hurting you. “you’re wasting energy.”

clouds, a mixture of white and grey, drift into the limited stretch of sky within your sight. you reply, “it’s never a waste. not when spent on you,” and he whimpers. 

you’ve never heard him so fearful. 

“you — you cannot-“ neuvillette’s words catch in his throat, unable to escape his mouth, and you smile up at him through battle-rouged lips. his breathing shakes, but he forces himself through it. “you aren’t allowed to do this. we swore it, many millennia ago — you and i, unparted until the end.”

you laugh softly, and it hurts. “don’t you see? lover, it is the end.” blood dribbles from your lips as a low, pained noise falls from his own, an animalistic keen that breaks your heart; you can hear his own racing — the fear is getting to him, the panic as well. 

thunder booms. 

“n-no, i said no-!” he says, his voice strong and weak at the same time, and you shakily put a hand over his own where it covers the gaping wound in your middle. 

“even you cannot deny death his prize, neuvillette,” you whisper seriously. behind him, where he kneels on the pristine stone of the courtyard where you’d both been ambushed by enemies he’d finished off in a rage once he saw you fall in a splash of blood, guards approach with young furina in tow. she locks eyes with you, glancing briefly with horror in her gaze at your husband where he holds you while his trousers soak in the pool of blood you’ve created, and hers become wide and scared.

damn it. you’d not wanted her to see; it was already terrible enough that your husband had been with you when you’d been struck, and now the charge neuvillette and yourself had taken was to watch as well? the gods must be laughing at your misfortune. 

“please,” he whispers above you, hunched small and rounded so as to shield you from a threat that had already fallen upon the both of you. he ignores furina’s arrival.  “please, do not.”

lightning flashes, a warning of what was to come. 

he was done refuting fate and denying the gods their entertainment. now he was begging you, publicly prostrating himself before the many witnesses at his back without a single care in the world as long as it meant keeping you. his hand shakes as you clutch it in yours. 

“nothing will change atropos’ claim,” your murmurs, lifting one hand to cup his face. it takes almost all of the strength you have left as you lay there, bleeding out uncontrollably, but it’s all worth it as he nuzzles his face into your palm while his eyes remain squeezed shut. 

“it’s not fair,” he whispers against your wrist, his voice trembling, and you run your thumb along the crest of his cheekbone fondly. 

“life — life isn’t fair,” you force out around bloody teeth. behind your husband, the guards stand silent and furina quietly calls out a worried question you can’t really register as the wind starts to pick up aggressively. the vast picture of the sky behind neuvillette darkens to a deep grey the color of deep sea stone, a sky that begins to grow smaller and darker around the edges of your vision as your strength runs out. your heart pangs as you stare into his eyes. they’re panicked, afraid; you fear what today will do to him. you cannot let it be worse. “neuvillette — husband, look away.”

he shakes his head, and he does not. your brow furrows faintly as he begins trembling anew. 

“n-neuvillette, please…”

no. he can’t. 

“husband-…” with a choked whine, he squeezes his eyes shut.

a soft, fading sigh roars in his ears like the deafening crashing that comes with standing by waterfalls, and a hurt gasp from furina behind him prompts him to open his eyes again. he looks down at you, unmoving but still warm to the touch, and if he were a lesser learned man he’d have been fooled into thinking you were just sleeping — but you were not. you would not ever rest again, despite being drawn into the grasps of the eternal sleep. his breathing comes and goes, unstable and messy, and his heart aches. it burns with an agony as if it’s been torn from his chest—

and it begins to rain. 

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[pedge-page]

Candles

Part 5 to Best Man Series. follow Christmas Party.

Joel Miller x F!Reader, Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: It's Tommy's birthday. So why are you still looking for Joel to celebrate it?

notes: Its been 4 months but here's the next part for those of you still waiting on since December! The next part will most likely be the finale.

Warnings: unprotected sex (with Tommy), infidelity / cheating, pregnant reader, toy usage, dildo riding, breeding kink, oral m!receiving (with Joel), m!masturbation, short voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cum eating, jealous!Joel, emotions are FLLYYINNGGG in this one

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous. 

He’s at home, drifting off in thought as his hands do poor work on wrapping paper around the new pair of shoes and watch that he picked out. When Sarah, who’s focus is on brushing her doll’s hair and changing her bathing suit, starts yapping about how Uncle Tommy's kid is gonna be her best friend since she doesn't have any siblings to play with right now, all Joel can think about is you and Tommy together right now on his special day. 

What would it be like, waking up to you in a shared bed every day? To be the first to kiss you, smell your morning breath and sift his fingers through your bed head? To see your eyes shine from the sun reflecting off of them, twinkling with the buildup of a tear after a yawn.

What would it be like, getting a birthday blow job from you first thing in the morning? Even if you aren’t his wife, he’s thought about getting to have you all the time, just for him. He doesn’t get jealous of Tommy very often, because Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous, but he tuts at the idea that your mouth wrapped around his cock is a sight he gets to behold more often than Joel ever will. 

What would it be like, to not have to sneak around? To just have you loudly, unashamed, sloppily, proudly, the way you deserve, without constantly checking behind your back? To capture your lips in front of everyone like it were normal, to hold your pregnant belly like it was his, because damnit it might as well be.

It drives him insane he can’t mark you up the way Tommy can, less the two of you be caught in your affair. All he can do is pound you better, ruin you some more, and fill you with his seed. 

As if the last one hadn’t already reared its consequences in your growing belly. You’re too beautiful, too full of something special to be kept to one guy.

Still. He’ll only ever be second to Tommy.

What would it be like … to call you his?

“Dad…Dad!”

“What!”

Joel looks down at Sarah who’s got her hands on her hips and a stern look about her face.

Jesus, she really does spend too much time with me.

“The door,” she repeats, pointing downstairs. On cue, the doorbell chimes again.

He grunts as he lifts himself to his feet, brushing her head messily with his big palm before hopping down to answer.

It’s his dad.

“How old ya gotta be to leave your old man standin’ outside in the cold?”

Joel rolls his eyes, shifting to allow his father through the front. “It’s 79 degrees out.”

“Cold for my old bones,” he groans, feinting a shiver. “Share-Bear!”

Sarah bulldozers straight to his abdomen and wraps her arms in a big hug. 

Joel lightly tugs on one of her curly strands and she yelps “ow!”

“Go upstairs and get changed.”

She barrels upstairs to her room, leaving Joel and Miller senior. 

Joel continues tossing a bunch of tape on to the sad excuse of a gift before crinkling all the paper up and tossing it. He moves to search for a gift bag in the closet instead.

His dad sighs loudly. “Tommy sure got a nice beat goin’ for ‘im.”

“Sure does,” Joel notes, his attention more on the shoving past the vacuum.

“Good house, good job, kid on the way. A pretty gal.”

Joel closes the closet and turns towards his dad. “What’s your point, pops?”

“You know my point. He’s got it all together. You...”

“Me what? You don’t think I ain’t doin good on my own?”

“You shouldn’t have to be on your own. Sarah’s mom wasn’t...we knew she wasn’t gonna stick around. Its tough havin’ a kid to raise by yourself—“

“I wouldn’t trade my babygirl in for anything else in the world,” Joel snaps quickly. His eyes dart upstairs briefly. Its a conversation he hates when his dad brings up, especially when Sarah could just be lurking around the corner.

“Im not sayin’ that but.” Grandpa Miller shakes his head and takes a seat at the island. “Kid needs a mom. You need a woman. Someone to hold and kiss and make promises to. Someone to love.”

Joel drops the now filled bag on the countertop. I have that already. It’s just—complicated. “There a reason you stopped by? Other than to lecture me?”

His father grunts apathetically. “Just came by for some wrapping paper, but by the looks of it—“ He glances at Joel’s empty tape roll and bunched up pile of ribboned paper—“Guess I’ll go down to the store to get some.”

“Well you know where the door is.”

His dad follows Joel to his open front door to show him out. One aging father and one rapidly aging eldest son look at each other with a sense of sadness.

“Joel—“

“I’ll see you at Tommy’s.”

-

If you weren’t so pregnant, waking up before Tommy would have been so much easier to give him a blow job.

Instead. It’s half past 9, and you’re just rousing to consciousness. Fully well knowing Tommy has probably been awake for at least an hour but faking it just so he can wake up with you.

“Good morning birthday boy,” you grumble groggily, a soft smile spreading across your cheeks as you pull him in for a peck.

He grins and wraps himself around you. “Mmm Good Morning, little Momma. Ya know what I want for my birthday?”

You did know. He dropped hints like crazy and you already had it ready to go by your nightstand.

The thing about Tommy is…Tommy likes watching. It’s something you figured out when you were already dating after a year. Something about watching you touch yourself, spreading your legs on the bed and fucking yourself with a dildo, or grinding on his pillow and moaning as he stroked his cock from across the room, has him leaking in his palm with dirty words of encouragement.

And even with a hefty baby in your belly, his view of you bouncing on top of the sizable dildo was no different.

“Fuck, fuck that’s it angel. Takin’ that dick so good. Bet it feels good, huh?” He grips his balls with his palm while the other fists over his dick. Sitting upright in your makeup chair, fully naked and facing the bed, he gets a view of everything. His hungry eyes never once leave your body.

You nod. Your knees hurt, but the sight of Tommy’’s heart shaped eyes watching your milky breasts bounce, your lips spread to accomodate the girth of the silicon cock has you smiling for your deserving husband.

“It’s—not as easy with the bump…” you say fretfully. You feel like shit, not being able to give him the show that he wanted on his birthday. It’s a lot more difficult to angel and thrust a stick into you when there’s a planet blocking your view.

Tommy hoists himself up quickly, jerking his cock as he approaches you. He tosses the dildo and crawls over you before veiny hands caress along your hips, over your belly and squeezing your tits. “S’okay, little Momma. ‘m’here now. Daddy’s gonna make it better.”

You grasp his face with both hands and grin, pulling his lips to yours. At the same time, he slides his leaking member into your folds, forcing a grunt in the back of both of your throats as he bottoms out.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me,” he growls, fucking you steadily with deep strokes. “I get my one birthday wish today. Thinking’ I’m gonna leave a little present in this pussy. Have ya walk around all day with a lil bit of me inside.”

You laugh and gently tap your belly. “There’s a bit more than a ‘little’ bit of you inside me already.”

His stomach rumbles with a a chuckle. “That’s for everyone else to know who ya belong to. Nah, I’m talkin something just between you n me.” His arm holds himself above you as he rocks his hips with shallow ruts. “Shit, shit, ya gonna take it f’me? Gonna take my present on my fuckin’ birthday?”

You let out a high pitched whine, neck convulsing backwards as your cunt starts tightening around his length. 

Tommy locks your lips to his, tongue’s messily rolling into one another’s mouth. A string of saliva connect between the two of you when he pulls away, only for him to rub it against your breast.

“Tommy,” you moan desperately. You’re close, you’re about to tell him so: “I—“

“I love you,” he rasps. His eyes are shut tight as he finds that sweet spot inside, sending you over the edge before you can finish your thought.

 He thrusts a few more times before stilling. His balls twitch with satisfaction, each grunt from his chest echoing the spurts of his seed inside you. He feels at peace when he can be this close to you, his hand warm against your tight tummy and his soon-to-be kids.

His soon to be complete family.

His words rattle in your ears. You feel the opposite of light and airy after an orgasm. No, everything is heavy. Your head feels like a boulder stuck to the pillow. Yet empty. Your body so full yet feeling incredibly hollow right now. 

Tommy kisses your lips once more, not noticing the way you don't return the vervor. He sits up, wipes the sweat from his brows and slaps your thigh.

“You okay? Fucked ya a little too hard, baby momma?” He snickers.

You fake a laugh, hoping he’ll see you’re feeling exhausted rather than suspect anything is wrong.

Your husband kisses your forehead with a whisper “Stay in bed, you rest as long as ya need,” before walking towards the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I love you. It should have made you feel surrounded by him. Comforted, secure, proud, inseparable, sound, cherished, warm, fuzzy, happy, truthful, light. Your husband confessing his love to you. 

Instead, it only reminded you of the dream had about Joel again last night.

Joel in your house. Joel in your bed. Joel dropping Sarah off at school and feeding your newborn with her bottle. Joel cooking in your backyard, Joel’s hands entwined with yours on a walk. Joel rubbing your shoulders and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Joel kissing your cheek and telling you he lo—

You cover your face with the back of your hands. Tommy’s the one in your bed. Tommy holds your hand and kisses your cheek, and will be feeding and burping your baby, will be there for you forever and always because that’s what you promised to each other. 

You hold the ring on your finger up high in the air, its dazzling shimmer glints in your eyes. Your eternal promise, displayed on something so small yet so permanent, wrapped up in such a beautiful band.

The same ring that Best Man Joel carried in his pocket safely for months before you swore yourself to his brother. 

 You curse under your breath.

You’re still going to have to see him today.

-

He watches you crowd over Tommy seated at the head of the table, your hands lovingly on his shoulders. He thinks about his “one wish” for a while, but he only looks sideways towards you, holding your gaze for a moment before he confidently blows his candles. The room erupts in a rumble of cheers and clapping, but Tommy and you are only smiling at one another. He grabs your face and kisses you, smearing some icing on your nose. You laugh with him and rub it along his own, the two of you giddy and in your own world.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

And when you slice into the cake, nobody really understand why the cake is split between a blue and pink center. Everyones thinking the same thing--we already did the baby shower, it was going to be a girl!

“We might...have found out…there's gonna be another one,” you say sheepishly, your hands rollings over the heft of your larger than life belly that surprisingly has two little bubbas growing inside. 

Twins. you're having fucking twins. 

Tommy grasps your face and smears more icing on you, the two of you locking lips again and getting a little too pg-13 in a room full of raucous screeches that feel like nails on a chalkboard, shuffling chairs like a thunderous stampede. Everyone rushes to congratulate the two of you, how your lives are really starting, how exciting it must all be, what names you’ve been thinking of, its its everything you’d hoped it would be.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

Tommy knew, of course he did. Both of you planned it, to announce it like that. He’s got that smug look on his face, nothing of surprise. Just absolutely elated to share news that had been sitting on the two of you for who knows how long. Something Joel used to always get firsthand word from. You’re having twins. And he’s learning about it for the first time, same as everyone else. Tommy’s friends pat him on the back. Aunts kiss his cheek and even his dad smiles towards his youngest son’s success, all while the whole time, his ringed hand hasn’t left the curve of your swollen womb.

Joel Miller doesn’t get jealous.

He slips out the back of the room, everyone too engrossed in surrounding the happy couple. Nobody cared for Joel’s presence, not since the minute Tommy was born. Nobody would bat an eye for his absence today too.

…

You’re excited, you want to celebrate, and having everyone touching and surrounding you and asking questions wasn’t the way you wanted it. That’s why it was supposed to be during Tommy’s birthday, so there was something else to focus on.

But your body is on edge. It was attention from all that thrill. Jittery and warm under your palms.

Between your legs.

It’s hard to force Joel out of your mind whenever he’s in the same room. So when he dips out of the kitchen without making any gesture towards you, you didn’t hesitate to excuse yourself for a bathroom break. Nobody questions it, continuing their swarm around Tommy now who’s too eager for all the attention to really notice.

You don’t know what you expect from Joel. You don’t even know why you’re seeking him right now, and not standing by your husband’s side. You love Tommy. He’s everything to you. 

So why is there still this half of you that feels… like you need more?

Maybe your body is thinking on her own accord now, and that’s been a problem that needs to end. No. No you just wanted to talk. That’s all. He's your brother-in-law, for fucks sake. it’s natural you want to hear his thoughts. He’s gonna be a double uncle! He deserves a congratulations! Hope he’ll tell you congratulations too. Acknowledge it in some way. That its happening. That you and Tommy—are just you and Tommy. 

You wonder where the older Miller may have gone in such a small house. Sarah was still in the room, sneaking cake since nobody else seemed to care to slice it up, so where on earth—?

A callused palm wrap around your mouth and pulls you backwards into the dark bathroom, the door closing you inside with him warm and pressed tightly against your back.

“Shhhhhhhhh,” he whispers. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver, all the way down to the dampness spreading along your panties. Fuck. What was it about just ‘talking’ to him again? 

“J-Joel,” your voice wavers cautiously. “I—“ 

“You still gonna keep pretending you don’t want me?”

You face him as he turns the lights on and the two of you are caught in one another’s grasps. There’s a moment where you size him up, and he wonders if you’ll bluff his pass.

Instead, Like magnets that can’t resist their attractions, your instincts overwhelm you. Your eager fingers dig into the back of his neck and smash his lips against yours. The traces of icing still linger on your lips and tongue, the two of you devouring one another, fighting to get the last lick before coming apart to breathe.

Joel just smirks, his tongue swiping over his puffy lower lip. “Sweet,” he hums. His thumb brushes the bit of icing you didn’t know was still on your nose and puts it in his mouth. “How somethin’ so sweet come from someone so naughty?”

You quickly drop to a squat and roughly shove his hips back against the sink. Nimble fingers working swiftly to unbuckle his jeans and shove them down to his thighs.

You’re both panting through swollen lips, heart rate moving a lot quicker than the activities you’ve so far done would permit. He’s gorgeous like this—illuminated by the harsh florescent light above, his sincere, albeit sinful, smile and rosy cheeks watching you kiss his hardened length. 

He doesn’t force you. Doesn’t do anything to make you feel concerned. In fact, you’ve cornered him against the vanity, forcing yourself between his bent knees and inserting his tip to your wet mouth.

“Beautiful,” he whispers softly. His thumb strokes over your cheek as you guide more of his leaking cock into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not even to blink. 

Your head bobs eagerly, swallowing around him. There’s just something about that huge dick of his that has you going feral. An itch you can’t scratch until his cum is either nested safely in your stomach or your womb. Maybe it’s because you’ll never be able to get rid of him. He’ll be around forever, and that means you can keep seeing him and his beefy horse cock forever. Forbidden yet yours for the taking. Every day if you wanted. 

The sounds of the party outside feel so remote compared to the events happening in such a little room right now. Just between you and Joel. 

The babies ain’t quite here yet so just you and Joel.

“Pretty pretty angel, sucking’ Daddy’s cock like that. What would your husband think? Suckin’ his big brother off in your house? I’d tell ‘im you got to your knees all by yourself. Little slut couldn’t wait for it. Second she saw me, needed my fat cock stretchin’ her throat, ain’t that right? Needed me to give ya something today too? Just that selfish, aren’t ya?”

You pull off his cock with a big gasp, smiling lazily. He slaps his cock against your open tongue with thick and wet patpatpats. 

He tsks you. “Pregnant gal, on her knees, takin’ cock like a slut. What a woman you are, little momma.”

You hum in approval, the drunken desire for Joel to fill your every senes clogging your brain.

Soft lips enclose around his tip again and he thrusts forward this time, holding his cock deep. You try to remember to breathe through your nose, even with his hairs tickling your lashes, but Joel pulls back enough to just his tip, and sets a gentle rhythm back and forth.

Joel’s head falls back against the mirror. His eyelids feel heavy each time he looks down to you. So full and rounded by a child—two children…if they're his, Joel’s having another daughter and his first son.

“Told ya you were made from breedin’. You’re gonna be like this the rest of ya life. Gonna put another baby in ya, then another—” he chuckles to himself, “N’another—havin’ ya suck cock not remember what number baby ya got growing’ in ya belly.”

He hisses through his teeth as you suck his member in and out, picking up pace. Your tongue works over his tip with each swipe, hand jerking off the base of his dick that you can’t fit. Any saliva and precum is immediately suckled and swallowed, leaving no evidence at the scene.

You’d gotten pretty good at that.

Joel’s beefy paw grasps the porcelain edge behind him as he hisses through his teeth. His stomach tenses, the veins in his v’line straining and you know he’s close. 

You alternate between sucking his balls and jacking off his cock above you. “What if I busted all over that pretty face? Have ya walk around your house with my cum on those lashes as everyone told ya what a cock hungry whore you are.”

You moan around him, your pussy so slicked between your thighs that it’s dripping down your pants. Its wrong. Fuck, you’re so wrong to want it. Want Tommy to see who’s marking you up, see how much you’d spread your pussy for Miller cock no matter if its your husbands his brothers.

His cock finds its way to your mouth again, and he starts thrusting lightly. 

“Swallow it, swallow it all. Want ya hesitatin’ to kiss Tommy after this. Knowin’ ya got my spunk in your mouth still. Fuck me babydoll, mouth’s a dream.”

His jaw drops low as he cums, and god what a sight. Your cunt throbs as he lets out pained breaths into the air, ready to cum if you were able to touch yourself right now.

You gulp down his salty load, lips suctioned to his tip and milking him clean to avoid any messes that might linger.

“That’s a good slutty wife,” he whispers down to you. Even on your knees, the heft of your pregnant belly is doing wonders to him. 

You lazily grin up to his smug grin. He knows you like showing him just how good you are at swallowing loads, like a good wife always does.

He pulls his softened cock out of your mouth, and you gasp a big breath of air, your hands still clinging to his thighs.

You feel his protective hands hoist you up to your feet. 

“Anything hurt?” He asks gently, holding your body flush against him as he rubs your tummy and hips. He feels much less tense than just moments ago when he pulled you in the bathroom with him. 

You shake your head. It’s not the first time you’ve gone down on a man while 30 pounds heavier with a baby. Your knees are a bit sore, but it’s nothing compared to the ache you’ve been feeling in your back for months now.

You try to pull away from Joel, but his arm is wrapped tightly around you. 

“Didn’t think you were pullin’ me in here just to suck me off. Why are you actin’ like this little snatch is happy from that?”

“I didn’t pull you—you pulled me,” you correct.

“You came lookin’ f’me. And you got on your knees all by yourself.”

His hands caress lower down your hip, gliding along your leggings towards your crotch. It should be wrong, the way your hand closes around his wrist to guide him closer, his digits dipping below the waistline and down your panties. 

He feels it: the soft squelch of your slick in your ruined underwear, pulsing madly. He grins and lets out a satisfied yet devious ‘ooooh there we go’ against your cheek. 

But there’s more. More dripping from here than he’s given you just from the thrill of sucking his cock.

He pushes his middle finger past your entrance and fingers out the glob of cum that had been deposited inside you earlier today.

“It’s —it’s Tommy’s birthday,” you moan, as if he needed an explanation as to why your husband’s seed is dripping out of your pussy. “Had—to give him—ooohhhhuugggg—his…gift—“

He continues to finger fuck you slowly, his younger brother’s cum practically pooling in your underwear. “Got one man’s cum in your mouth and a different one’s in ya pussy." He shakes his head. when he gets you like this, sometimes he would forget that you’re Tommy’s wife, after all. That Tommy gets you more than him. Gets to fill you whenever he pleases. Gets to hear your moans as loudly as he wants. That Tommy’s right to your pussy is his first and foremost, sacredly, forever and always.

That doesn’t stop Joel from seething at the thought of having to finger his brothers spent out of you.

"What, he didn’t make ya cum?” He taunts, picking up the pace. Even as you wreathe under his touch, your nails clench into his bicep, feeling the muscle work with each flick of his knuckle. “S’why you’re so desperate today? Wifey didn’t get her selfish little cunt pleased from your husband on his birthday?”

 "I did come …” you protest weakly. You squeeze your eyes shut, head tilted down as he works you open. It’s sloppy and sticky in your leggings, soaking the underside with your slick and Tommy’s cum being forced out by Joel’s big fingers relentlessly hitting the gummy spot inside.

His other hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him:

 “Then why you comin’ to me?”

There’s a prickle of a tear filling your eyes. You've been asking yourself the same thing for months. You don’t know from what; the brink of pleasure or guilt, but there’s a hefty stone that’s burrowed in your chest all day that you didn’t know needed to escape. The words are forced out of your chest with a pained gasp. 

"... I just want... more.”  

It should pain you to admit it, to be so selfish for these men, never feeling one is enough for you.

Normally He would kiss you right now, to hush your mind to reveal something so heavy, but instead, he holds your gaze, gritting his teeth with a snarl just barely poking along his lip. He wants to let your words sink into your bones, really grasp what you've been denying for too long. Suffer with it, even.

You hadn’t even realized he backed you up against the door, pressing his knee between your leg. You’ve become trapped and hadn’t even noticed. His fingers prod your entrance incessantly, reaching deep inside so there’s no way of you to wiggle out of his grasp. curling up and beating your g-spot better than Tommy can—at this point, its very possible you’ve had more sex with Joel than with your own husband.

And that makes the coil in your pussy snap.

Joel belittles you without any words while you fall apart against the wooden door holding you up. Working the heft of his palm against your clit until your brows are furrowing, mouth agape, walls clamping down tight around him as you cum. The door rattles with each little roll of your hips, and your moans aren’t hushed either. 

He watches, the way your eyes are glued to him, blown wide in guilt and in pleasure while little whines escape your lips. Unrelenting and stoic as he works you through your orgasm, granting no mercy nor even trying to shush your little cries from over stimulation. You don’t hesitate when he brings his fingers to your lips, swallowing them whole and sucking Tommy and your slick off Joel’s fingers. He wipes the rest off on your shirt.

Every emotion you feel with Tommy, you feel with Joel in moments like these. He holds you close to him as you breathe in his musky, minty scent. His shirt smells a bit like flowered softener and a hint of early morning sweat. Fumigated with the thick aroma of sex.

You're looking at the ring on your knuckle.

“I helped pick it out. Carried it for months. ’S practically my ring to you too.” He’s babbling now, getting lost in that hazy after-orgasm glow between two people who are connected by a strong, strange bond. “Sometimes …sometimes I think about stealing you away all to myself.”

He makes you two look in the mirror together, with him cradling your belly as you hold your ring hand to your chest. “Look,” he commands softly against your ear. “Kinda looks like our own little family.”

You hate that you kind of liked that idea. But then Tommy is in your mind, the man that you actually love, who fought for you, who you tied your vows to, and as far as you’re concerned, the father of your children. 

Angry, you try to break away and shove Joel, but he's used to it. Used to you closing him off right after these moments of pure insanity. He's not letting it happen today. This time he’s got a firm grip on you like a brick wall and steel wire melding you tight to him. He knows you don’t actually want to push him away. 

"You said you wanted more.”

It’s not a question: it’s a statement. A fact.

The very real thought, the one you tried to push away every time this happens, dawns on you: Joel is tired of sneaking around. Wants to have you when he wants. When everyone is watching. 

Not just sex. To be in your bed, making you dinner and watching movies, dropping Sarah off to school rubbing your back when you’re in pain, there for the babies when you deliver and every day after. 

You manage to push him off of you and shake your head. The chatter outside grows louder than the beats of your heart. Hoisting your pants back up into place, you go to grab the bathroom door, but Joels strong grip lays over top your and forces the door shut.

There’s a deadly, threatening finality to his tone. “I’m telling him.”

You turn back with a shocked expression, partially expecting him to be joking about it. Not that it’s funny. It’s not funny at all. 

But Joel hasn’t moved. Hasn’t cracked a smile. A man whose resolve has overcome his patience. His lips are tight, jaw tense as he watches you try to answer to that horrifying outcome. 

“Joel. No. Are you insane?”

“If its my kids you’re having, I have every right to be there for you—“

“But it’s NOT!”

“You know that? Tell me right know, you know it for sure. Say it ain’t mine, and I’ll never bring it up again.”

You go quiet, looking down at the belly that’s carrying your babies. You want to shrink away from your fears, from the men who’ve caught you between them with their words and their love and their touch. You’re Tommy’s wife. Yet here you are with Joel. Again. In your and Tommy’s house. And Joel’s hand on you, and on your finger is Tommy’s ring—Joel’s ring--TOMMY—

 It’s too much. Everything is closing around you, your lungs suffocating themselves under the pressure that you caused by seeking him out. Finding him and putting yourself in this exact situation ever. Single. Time. 

You yank the door again, desperate to escape, but Joel doesn’t budge. He refuses to let you walk away from the conversation. From him.

“You didn’t deny it,” he reminds you. he pulls your reluctant focus to him again. “Just say it: Tell me you want me. Tell me you lo—”

“I don’t.” You declare rigidly. Its too far. No, no, no,nonoNO. You expel those thoughts, his words, quick to cast them out before letting them enter your system. The next words rush out of your mouth with a deep ache seized in the pit of your stomach: “You’re just a good fuck.”

The air is thin around you. Something has dropped, a pin, a dime, a fucking boulder, between the two of you. Joel grits his teeth and removes his hand from the door, backing away from you with a scowl. He pulls it the knob open harshly and brushes past you quickly, not even taking a moment to check if anyone was nearby to see you emerging from the bathroom too.

He grabs his jacket and strides towards the living room. You can make out the commotion behind the wall; Sarah is having her own philosophy course to her personal audience, asking, "Whats the point of having so many candles if you can only make one wish!?"

Joel grabs her hand and dismisses them quickly. Her sad cries echo into the hall: “But why! It’s too early!”

Joel’s stern voice echoes in the hall as they make their way across the entryway.  “Because I said so. I’ve got work tomorrow. We’re leaving.”

She continues to complain, but Joel doesn’t have any heart to continue their conversation. Ushering her out of the house and slamming the front door behind them.

You stare at the door, having not moved from your place. 

The carpet beneath your socked-feet feels too shaggy. I hated this carpet. Its too fucking much for fucking Texas and every god damn person who sees it here.

You flinch when Tommy’s hand creeps along your belly. Disgusting your sniffle as a cough and wiping your nose. You worry he noticed, but he doesn’t do anything to push the matter further. “What’s up with him?”

You huff an annoyed sigh. “I don’t fucking know. He’s your brother. Just Leave me the fuck alone.”

Tommy observes  your face momentarily, the way you avoid his eyes. He pulls away. “I’m gonna let this one slide as a pregnancy hormonal thing,” he says lowly, a cold soberness to his tone. “Then you can tell me what’s botherin’ ya so much lately. Or not. I’ll let you decide.”

You cover your face with your hands, sinful hands that feel like dry leather and charred ashes. Hands that don’t feel like your own anymore.

It would be better if Tommy just walked away. So you can simmer in your guilt and pain, like any cheating wife would. Like a sensible man who doesn’t take that shit from his wife, no matter what her personal problems are. From a woman who’s secretly jeopardizing their marriage for… what exactly?

You wanted more…but…what did you want more of?

Instead, Tommy feels his lips quiver slightly. He brings your head to his chest, smothering you in his scent and his embrace, his love and comfort.

Your insides break down in a flood. Tears and hiccups suffocate you as you wrap your arms around your husband and sob into his denim jacket, the one you just gave him this morning as his first birthday gift from his new wife. 

Tommy’s never pushed you for anything. Maybe to his own detriment.

Deep down, you suspect, he knows it too.

Instead, he just holds you, swaying back and forth with gentle ‘shhh’ into your forehead. Never once faltering on the stretch of his hug, his arms holding you up and against him like a seatbelt built for a lifetime.

You feel like you just drove the car off a cliff.

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[vaokses]

Never enough for both (Pirtir, Ch.4)

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Pairing: Aegon x Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader

Summary: Both sides of the family are reunited in King's Landing to formally announce the betrothal and start the celebrations leading up to the wedding.

Word Count: 7.7k (sorry, if long chapters like this bother you, I can try to make future ones shorter or divide them in parts, let me know)

Warnings: Topic of arranged/forced marriage. Usual Targaryen incest stuff. Hints at alcohol consumption in unhealthy manners. I love Maris Baratheon, so she's here, though not in all her glory as she's not taunting a man into kinslaying, sadly. ✨Childhood Companions✨. Both sides of this family are messy and annoying, and I hope I showed that properly here.

A/N: Sorry for the late update! I think I'll change uploads for this story to Sundays instead of Saturdays. Hope you enjoy!

This chapter includes some stuff also mentioned/explained in How long this love can hold its breath, a prequel oneshot in Aegon's perspective.

Title is from "So, here you are, too foreign for home, too foreign for here. Never enough for both." By Ljeoma Umebinyuo.

Your morning tea with the Queen is followed by the announcement that the Velaryon fleet -and by extension your family- can be seen quickly approaching the city, with six dragons flying alongside the boats. 

You got to meet the Velaryons that arrive on the port, which are the ones sailing from Driftmark, as your mother and the rest have decided to enter the city through the Dragonpit. To your surprise, Corlys is there to greet you, after a long absence at sea. 

Baela makes very unsubtle attempts to return to the Keep on your carriage with you alone, so after a quick greeting of Princess Rhaenys and the Sea Snake, you promise to meet with them later and enter the carriage with Baela. 

Sitting across from her, you keep silent as you watch her, as you notice her uncharacteristically falter, lowering her eyes to her fidgeting hands.  

“Corlys and Rhaenys aren’t getting along, for obvious reasons. They aren’t the only ones,” She informs you. “Daemon and your mother are…at odds with one another.” 

“And you know this how, exactly?” 

“I can hear the shouting all the way from Driftmark,” She jests, the glint of defiant humor shining in her dark eyes. A breath, and she explains, “Rhaena sent a raven, told me that father was furious that this was allowed to go on.” 

“‘This’?” 

“Your marriage to Aegon.” 

“But it has been months in the planning.” 

“Perhaps Daemon hoped for an…alternate solution to present itself,” She shrugs, “We both know Father would have sent you here to kill him, not marry him.” 

You chuckle humorlessly, “I shall be on the lookout for new orders, then.” 

Instead of joking along, Baela turns to you then, dark eyes slightly narrowed. 

“Would you follow such orders?” 

You offer a smile again, but you know better than to expect her to fold. 

Still, you attempt, “Did Daemon give you orders to ask this?” 

“No, I’m just…curious. If he had ordered you to kill them, any of them, of your…childhood companions, would you have?” 

“It is a bit late to send Vermithor and I against Sunfyre and Aegon, or Dreamfyre and Helaena. We’d win, though.” 

“Undoubtedly. But that wasn’t what I asked.” 

“Daemon has issued no orders.” 

She is more alike her father than she knows, especially when she’s on a hunt. They track weakness like bloodhounds, and they don’t cease on their chase once they’ve caught a scent. 

She presses, “Perhaps because he knows you wouldn’t obey.” 

“I have always done as was asked of me.” 

“Have you?” Baela asks. While you admire her spirit, you do not intend to entertain accusations, and you turn to her with a glare that she smiles at. Bowing her head slightly, she amends, “I am not implying disloyalty, I just…I think you believe yourself less…unyielding than you actually are. I think you don’t like to admit you have ambitions of your own.” 

It is difficult for you, even now, to push back the voice that reminds you that you have been too careless, too trusting, and you have allowed Baela to see more than she should have, more than it was useful for her to see. To lie well you must never be defined or remembered, Lady Mysaria told you years ago, an ordinary face is lost in a crowd. 

And despite Baela being one of the only people you’ve been able to count on as a constant, despite the fact that by blood and love you are bound to one another, despite knowing deep in your bones that you can count on her to have your back come what may; you resent the realization that she sees in you something you didn’t intend for her to, something that isn’t useful for her to see. You do not know what to do, at the threat that she might have seen you, and might have remembered you. 

“My ambitions are to support my House and my mother. I have done only what was asked of me.” 

“Were you asked to promise love to Alasdair Tyrell in order to have him sail to the Shield Islands and turn them to your cause? Were you asked to use Cragan Stark’s…friendship with Jacaerys to force his hand when he refused to offer a proposal of marriage?”  

If Alasdair Tyrell hadn’t sailed to the Shield Islands with the Redwyne fleet and turned them to your cause, you would have no solid argument against Lady Mysaria and her wish to marry you to him. If Cregan Stark hadn’t issued a proposal of marriage you would have had to trust only in your mother’s choices to keep the North. Either alternative would mean relinquishing control, would mean uncertainty, powerlessness, and you were unwilling to even entertain the possibility. 

“I did not lie to Alasdair, my affections were honest,” At her look, you concede, “I care for him, even if I do not love him. And I merely…discussed with Cregan the realities of our expectations of one another, which he found agreeable enough to issue a proposal.” 

“Hm,” There’s a smile on her lips that she learned neither from her father or her mother, but from her grandmother. The smile of a spider with an insect caught on its web. “How convenient, then, that in your honesty you earned yourself the Reach and the North.” 

“I don’t appreciate accusations,” You dismiss, rolling your eyes at her answering chuckle. “When Vaemond plotted with Oldtown to challenge my brother’s claim to the Salt Throne, it was you who asked me to deal with it, it was you who told Daeron Velaryon I was to entertain his proposal of marriage to get him to share his father’s secrets.” 

“You choose to embody a weapon, and you mind being wielded?” She asks, hints of laughter still clinging to her tone. Baela shrugs one shoulder. “I am not judging you, so you can stop glaring at me. If anything, I admire it.” 

“Do you?” 

“While Vhagar lives, you are not yet the greatest power in the Realm. Daemon would have you kill the hoary old bitch, and I might agree with his strategy, but…I commend you for yours.” 

“Hm.” 

She chuckles again, “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?” 

“Pout when I remind you of a truth you mislike hearing,” She says, “Gods, you and your brother are more alike than you like to admit, did you know?” 

All too eager to put an end to this conversation, you divert it towards Jace, and say, 

“My mother should be arriving soon with Daemon, Rhaena, and my brothers. The Queen said they are to…start the celebrations today, if the King is well enough.” 

“Is it too much to ask that they don’t arrive at all? None of your brothers should be coming here, not to mention our sister.” 

“Your s-…” 

Baela dismisses your words with a gesture of her hand, “Don’t bother.” 

You decide not to fight this unending battle today at least, and lean your head back against the seat, regarding her quietly for a few moments.  

“They have no choice but to be here, it would send the wrong message if my family fails to attend my wedding,” You say, but she presses her lips together, answering with nothing but a short grunt. “What troubles you, Baela?” 

“There are too many of us together in the same place,” She tells you, as if it is obvious. She looks out at the passing streets. “I doubt an eye is all someone will lose this time.” 

Your brow furrows. 

“You worry me.” 

She offers only a smile in return, confident and sly. 

“I assure you it is mutual, sister.” 

“Stop that.” 

“Make me.” 

 ___ 

Your mother and brothers -and you assume Daemon alongside them, you haven’t seen him as of yet- choose to spend the better part of the morning and noon with your grandsire. They remain by him as the gathering of members of the Great and Noble Houses of Westeros on the Keep grows, the highborn within the Keep and the lowborn outside of it waiting for their King to announce his son’s wedding celebrations, to write in stone the union they have known or suspected about for months now. 

Your eye catches on Mina Redwyne, second eldest of House Redwyne, as she talks with two of the Four Storms. Well, your eye doesn’t catch on her, but on the deep emerald dress she has chosen to wear. 

She notices your eyes on her, and turns to you with the clear intent to approach you. 

Turning to accept the servants offered glass of wine, you look at Baela, Rhaena, and Rhaenys and mouth save me. Before they can answer with anything other than the laugh Baela hides behind her hand, the ladies reach you. 

“Princess,” Mina greets, echoed by Maris and Cassandra Baratheon. “My congratulations on your betrothal. May the Seven bless you both.” 

You nod with a little hum, taking a sip of wine to try and dislodge the knot in your throat. It hasn’t gotten any easier to hear people speak of your betrothal, even now, just shy of having the King announce seven days of festivities before the wedding is to take place. 

“Thank you, my Lady,” You agree, smile in place, “It seems the both of us meet only for wedding celebrations as of late. First your brother’s in the Arbor, and now mine.” 

“How could I forget?” She replies. “In a sea of green and burgundy, there you were, wearing red. I can’t say I recall you ever wearing something that wasn’t red. Or black.” 

Of course she hasn’t, there was a reason for your tour and everything about it, from the servants that accompanied you to the clothes you were, were planned in order to send a message. And she knows that. 

Doing your best to mask the tiredness at the game she has only just started, you smile and say, 

“I am proud to wear my House’s colors. As any Lady should.” 

“Not all of us can afford to, Princess,” Maris Baratheon reminds you, sly smile curving at her lips, eyes trailing over Lady Mina’s green dress. “What with the mad race to be married off like cattle and all that.” 

“Hey.” You complain, gesturing with your free hand. 

Maris merely laughs, quite close to a witch’s cackle, and clinks her glass of wine against yours. 

“Congratulations, by the way,” She mocks. Her brow furrows, and her eyes divert to somewhere over your shoulder as she pretends to look for someone. “Though I believe it is your betrothed I am to extend my congratulations to? The man won a race he wasn’t even participating on, after all.” 

“You shouldn’t scorn the ways of court. You will soon be searching for a husband, sister.” Lady Cassandra, Borros Baratheon’s eldest, points out. 

“Or I could do as you do, and sulk for the rest of my days, mourning a rejection even a blind man could have seen coming,” Maris quips in response, and you share a look at the blatant insult with Lady Mina, for a moment your own quarrel forgotten. “Mother does always say I should follow your example.” 

“I’d dare say it takes more than a shared name for you to be equal to your sister, Lady Maris,” Mina quips, coming to Cassandra’s defense without a second thought. “Your House’s name was not enough to warrant you the proposals Lady Cassandra has received, was it?” 

You care much more about keeping Maris Baratheon, the cleverest of the Four Stroms and the daughter who currently holds Lord Borros’ ear, on your side than appeasing a daughter of House Redwyne. Mina has spent her life on the shadow of the Hightower, you know her alliances won’t change. 

So, making sure to keep your tone civil, but firm, you point out, 

“Some aspire to more than marriage, my Lady,” You say. “Lady Maris has much to offer her House, she can be more than a vessel for an alliance.” 

“Unlike others.” Maris bites out, cold gaze set on the other woman. Each time you spend time with her in court you realize why her mother threatens to cut off her tongue so often. 

“All women eventually have no choice but to bend, Princess,” Mina reminds you. Her gaze drops to the rubies on your dress and she adds, “Even women like you.” 

If your smile betrays something more honest, something closer to poison, then so be it. 

“There are no women like me.” 

Maris barks a short laugh, improper and unladylike, “You still believe humility to be a wasted effort, I take it?” 

“On the contrary, I find it admirable,” You lie, sharing a smile with the second eldest of House Baratheon. She returns a smile in kind, a little crooked but honest. You continue with yet another lie, “I just believe honesty is paramount when speaking amongst friends.” 

Lady Redwyne loses none of the edge, and the way her shoulders are drawn up in tension, ruffling the fabric of her dress, reminds you of a puffed-up bird. 

“We are to speak honestly, then?” 

“I dare say that sounds like a threat, Lady Mina.” Maris taunts, lifting the cup of wine to her lips and looking at the daughter of House Redwyne over the rim of her glass. 

“Of course,” You answer Mina’s question. With a small shrug, you prompt, “Speak with honesty, I wish t-…” 

You are interrupted by a hand resting on the small of your back, startling you into silence. You turn with wide eyes towards Aegon, now standing by your side, hand brazenly on you. 

“My Ladies,” He greets, brazenly false charm on display. He turns to you and bows his head slightly in greeting, “Princess.” 

“My Prince.” Lady Mina is the first to greet, and your appalment at his lack of care for manners is forgotten at the sight of her attempt at charm. Your eyes narrow towards her, but you say nothing. 

“You wouldn’t mind if I stole my betrothed from you for a while, would you?” 

The ladies acquiesce with mumbled goodbyes and promises to speak with you again after the King’s speech is delivered. You sincerely hope they cannot find you. 

Aegon leads you away from them and towards another part of the vast hall where the nobles gather, hand still boldly resting on your back. You make a point to take a step to the left, away from him, and point out,  

“It isn’t appropriate to touch me in public. We aren’t yet married.” 

“Would you prefer that I touch you in private? Because th-…” 

“It isn’t appropriate to ask that.” You interrupt, but a smile is foolishly tugging at the corners of your lips, and he notices, because his own smile widens. You look away. 

“No one expects me to behave appropriately.” 

You frown, very pointedly avoiding the eyes of the Queen and her brother as you pass them by. 

“And if I did?” 

“Then I’d disappoint you sooner than I intend to.” 

As you walk into the gardens, you stop in your pace and turn on your side to face him. hands joined behind your back, your head tilted to the side, you ask,  

“Do you intend to disappoint me?” 

He shrugs slightly, a downward curve of his mouth as he considers your question. 

“An inevitability,” He retorts. A breath, and Aegon offers an arm for you to take. An appropriate gesture, followed by an appropriate title, “Princess.” 

It shouldn’t endear you, it really shouldn’t. And yet you furrow your lips to hide a smile as you take the offered arm and let him guide you through the inner gardens of the Keep. 

“Was there something you wanted to discuss?” You ask, “You did ‘borrow’ me from the delightful company of those ladies.” 

“Not…exactly.” 

Gods, he is such a terrible liar. You mull over is answer, his actions, for a few breaths, as you walk through the busy room towards the gates to the gardens. 

“How many of those women have you fucked, that it worries you that I speak with them?” You blurt out, careful to keep your voice low, almost a whisper. You will tell yourself that the strange edge in your tone, what sounds even to you like jealousy, was part of a game, was intentional. “I know of the…activities you partake in. Court gossip may not speak about my indiscretions, but it does speak about yours.” 

“None of them,” He answers plainly. A breath, a moment of hesitation, a restless movement stalled by the weight of your hand on the crook of his arm, and Aegon turns to look at you. There’s something raw, in his slightly widened eyes, in the expectant expression. “Do you believe me?” 

You cannot help but think back on the previous night, and the careless way he gave away secrets he should have kept guarded, the way he seemed not to care that he is baring vulnerabilities with each breath, with each look. And you have this irrational and sudden anger at him for it, for this stupid bravery, this weakness, this rough honesty. 

More than anything, you are angry at the part of you that envies him for it, for being unable to wear anything but his true face. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” You answer without thinking. You aren’t sure if you’re lying or not. 

“I can think of many reasons.” Aegon retorts, wry smile curving at his lips. 

He doesn’t say anything else, and his attention returns to the gardens around you. It seems only then he notices the unsubtle way the lords and ladies scattered about keep staring at the both of you. 

“No one of noble blood is happy with this union,” You point out before he can say anything, “Every young knight and lord in the Seven Kingdoms is cursing your name, most likely. They wanted…well, it varied, but ultimately they all wanted their blood on the Iron Throne. In marrying me, you denied them of that chance.” 

“I know about being denied what I want most, but I doubt they would care about my sympathy.” 

“Do you?” You ask, the beginning of a smile curving at your lips. “What, as eldest son of a King, as a Targaryen Prince, have you been denied?” 

“You.” 

He answers so bluntly, as if the truth is without its weight, as if it is obvious, as if it isn’t dangerous to admit such a thing, that you are stunned into silence for a breath. 

“You never told me,” You say, “Before I left, you never told me of what you had attempted.” 

“Why does it matter? It wasn’t enough, it didn’t change anything,” You have the errant thought that it might have changed things, it might have changed you, if you had known, if he had told you. You say nothing though, and Aegon continues, thoughts spilling past his lips with no need for wine to loosen his tongue, truths being shared like grains of sand escaping from closed fists, “Refusing them all this time didn’t change anything either, you were still-…But I did it anyways. I was always slow to learn, wasn’t I?” 

A knot forms somewhere in your throat, something unnamed lodged in your chest. Because he is implying more than having merely asked to marry you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“My mother and Otto attempted to make arrangements, to betroth me to some lady or another, many times. I always refused them,” He shrugs, as if any of this can be easily dismissed, as if it doesn’t matter. An act, a mask of carelessness, but you notice the tension in his frame, the way his free arm is moving as if he’s fidgeting, hand opening and closing in nervous movements. “They refused to let me marry you, so I refused to marry anyone. 

“I-I didn’t…I didn’t know.” 

“You never asked.” 

“Why?” You ask, because you might have never asked before, but you have to ask now. 

“I didn’t think it would change anything, I just…I couldn’t imagine it, a-a future beside anyone but you.” 

Your chest pulls tight, and it is once again that overwhelming feeling of the night before, when he admitted to having asked for your hand before you left for Dragonstone. That feeling of flying on dragon back and falling, and landing harshly, and nearly missing a cliff. 

And the words, the accusation, to him or to yourself, you aren’t sure, rush past your lips,  

“You didn’t think of saying any of this sooner? Send a letter, something?” 

“And say what, exactly?” Aegon retorts, “That I asked to marry you, for a-a way to keep you, and was refused as if I were nothing but a boy asking for the impossible? That while you were away, forgetting me, I was still-…that I couldn’t forget? That’s all there is to it, I couldn’t forget.” 

Your eyes flicker between his, and he doesn’t bother hiding an old anger, an older hurt, and they both shine so clearly in his gaze now. Your breath stutters past your lips before any words an attempt to. 

“It wasn’t-…” 

“I told you, I wasn’t expecting it to change anything. I knew-…I know it changes nothing.” 

“And yet we are less than an hour away from our betrothal being announced.” 

“Your doing, not mine.” He retorts without missing a beat, and your short laugh does make a smile almost curve at his lips. It shouldn’t make you proud, the sight shouldn’t make you feel this strange yet welcomed nervousness. 

“If those ladies aren’t scorned lovers of yours, why the unsubtle attempt at keeping me from their company?” You ask, but more than ever it feels as if you’re playing a part. It is a familiar strategy to you, keeping a conversation going while you try to get a hold of yourself again. For the first time since you were sent away, you doubt you can. 

“The court isn’t…fond of me. Ladies like them, anyone here really, they’ll say things about me, things that are…true, even if I don’t want them to be,” He admits. Now it is you who is left looking at him while Aegon intently looks ahead. “If I can, I’d like to speak first. I just…I don’t want this to change.” 

The world has changed, long ago, for you. When you were forced to open your eyes to the truth of your and your brothers’ parentages, when you were promised your very life was at risk if your mother’s claim was not secured, when you were ordered into the Chamber of the Painted Table and instructed on what your use would be going forward and sent off to tour Westeros. 

The world changed, irrevocably, devastatingly, long ago, and it is no longer the world where you followed Helaena and Dreamfyre into the skies or the world where Aegon managed to make you laugh until you cried. The world has changed. 

The world has changed, and yet in your mind only lingers the recent knowledge that he refused to marry unless it was you, that you dedicated all you are and more to forget the foolish promises you made and he so carelessly held on to them, chose to remember them. Remember you. 

The world has changed, and yet he still feels familiar, he still seems to you the man you once knew, who could not keep a secret to save his life, who drank wine like it was a medicine drought, who managed to care deeply and not care at all in the same breath. 

And perhaps that is why you speak so carelessly now, so honestly now, 

“It doesn’t have to.” 

Silence lingers, and you are desperate for a way to fill it, to purge from your mind the thoughts that race in your head and the pointless feelings bubbling in your chest at Aegon’s admission that he refused to marry anyone else after he was denied a chance to marry you. But once again you find yourself uncertain on how to go on, on how to play. 

If Aegon is to say anything at all, it is stopped by a call from the Kingsguard for all to return inside the Keep, as the King is to join you all soon. 

The Kingsguard that made the announcement -you recognize him, he is the one sworn to Queen Alicent- bows once, but remains there, expectant, demanding. 

You and Aegon share a look, reminiscent of both that look as he took you to fly on Sunfyre for the first time, and of that last look as you mounted Vermithor and set to fly away to Dragonstone. 

___ 

You barely hear your grandsire’s words, though you do notice the way his voice is stronger, his frame standing taller, than the nights before. He welcomes the Houses to the Keep, he talks about years of strife in the House of the Dragon being put to rest, he announces your marriage to his eldest son, and yet you can only think about what Aegon so recklessly revealed to you. About what it means, about how he felt, about how he remembers you, about how he feels.

A part of you reminds you that when Lady Mysaria pushed you to marry Alasdair Tyrell, you constructed a lie and sent him off to conquer the Shield Islands in your name, to prove to her that you needn’t marry while at peace. That part of you reminds you that your threat to feed to Vermithor whoever they tried marrying you off to wasn’t a lie, that you meant it with everything that was left in you. 

The King collapses back into his seat, and even at the sight of his frailty the crowds continue in their cheer. Lady Mysaria explained to you long ago about the weight a full belly will have on the opinions of both noble and commoner, and how Viserys’ reign is but proof of that very fact. It is the reason she wanted you to marry a Tyrell, to secure the Reach, the most fertile region of the Realm. 

“I am no longer a young man, and it is no news to anyone that the years have weighed on me,” He admits, voice still somehow carrying in the cavernous room. A pale, bruised hand reaches for your mother’s, and he squeezes her hand in his before adding, “It will be Princess Rhaenyra, my daughter and heir, who will preside over the festivities to come in my stead.” 

The intention behind putting your mother, and not his wife or his Hand, as the one to act in his stead during the days to come is not lost on you, the support he once again reinstates over your mother and her claim impossible to ignore. 

You venture a glance at the Queen, and though you will admit she is not a bad player, she does not easily hide her emotions as well as other ladies of the court do. Yet now, neither surprise nor offense sour her expression, and you could swear there’s calm in the deep breath that rises and drops her shoulders. 

“I’ll endeavor to live up to your example, father.” 

“I shall hope these celebrations are only the beginning of a new age of joy and prosperity for us all,” He says, smile wide and kind. He turns to you and Aegon, and you stare back with wide eyes, because in your head resonates like a war drum, I couldn’t forget. “And I shall hope for a long and happy marriage for you both.” 

___ 

The Grand Maester sent word that the King would not be well enough to join you all at the dinner to welcome your family to the Keep, and though you truly wanted to ask what was the point of such dinner if your grandsire -the only one to wish for such a reunion- was not to be in attendance, you bit your tongue and let the handmaidens ready you for it. 

It is a striking difference, that of tonight and your first night here. Where before everyone was stiffly held to their seats by the presence of the King alone, now you walk into the room and find small clusters of people talking and joking with one another. It is a tad cruel, that the one so intent on uniting them has done nothing but create further division. 

Though, the division remains. Alicent and her father sit by one another and speak in hushed whispers, while your mother stands by the other end of the table with Rhaena and Princess Rhaenys. The rest are equally divided, with your father and Baela standing by a corner and observing them all carefully, your brothers sitting together and speaking with Vaemond and Corlys, and Alicent’s children standing together on the other end of the table. 

But at least now they look like people. Dreadful people, who make it horribly hard to tolerate them, much less love them, but people. Not figurines, as unmovable and as easily cracked as Viserys’ marble ones. 

At the errant thought that lingers on your grandsire’s model of Old Valyria, you find yourself eyeing the table, and you find, unsurprisingly, a napkin folded into the shape of a dragon. 

It seems you were the last to arrive, as they all move to sit now. You let the servants guide you to the middle of the long table, sitting you right in front of your mother and Queen Alicent.  

Baela takes the seat at your right, and you are grateful, for you are certain she knows as well as you that you will be sitting across from two women at war. 

Jacaerys approaches your left side, but Aegon is faster, and when your brother pulls back the chair, your betrothed sits on it before he can. 

Aegon turns to your brother with a mocking smile, and lifts his cup in a mock toast. 

“Thank you, nephew.” 

The taunt is childish, but it is enough to irritate Jace regardless. He shares a look with Baela, and moves to sit beside Aegon, while Helaena takes the last seat of this side of the table, sitting between Jace and Aemond, who sits at the head of the table. 

You watch as your mother and Alicent engage in yet another verbal battle, speaking in the language only those who once loved one another can speak; keeping you all a captive audience. 

She shouldn’t have come here, so far from the wedding. It was a mistake to come here, not to mention bringing Daemon and your brothers with her. 

Lucerys eyes the roasted pig brought to the table and then looks at Aemond with cruel mirth shining in his dark eyes. Thankfully your grandsire, the Sea Snake, has the good sense to smack him on the back of his head and snap him out of any foolish ideas about taunting your uncle before you see yourself in need to do the same. 

You are starting to think no one in this family has been capable of an intelligent choice or has formulated a coherent plan since your mother had you flee King’s Landing and left her father’s court to the Hightowers. And for the first time, you are glad you were sent away for those two years instead of being made to stay and try and manage this madness as Jace has been forced to do, the eldest in your absence. 

“I defy my own father’s counsel in permitting this union, Rhaenyra. Do not confuse my faults with those of the men of my blood, or I will extend the same courtesy to you.” 

Dark eyes flicker to Daemon, who answers to her implication with a mocking little giggle, leaning back on his chair and crossing his hands over his stomach. 

“It is not your father’s faults that make me wary, Your Grace,” Your mother argues, the title a reminder, and it is only then that you notice Alicent referred to her by her name. She continues, “But the cruelty and injustice you imposed on my children, for years on end.” 

Alicent’s brow furrows, eyes wide with the frenzied affront of that night in Driftmark. 

“You dare speak of cruelty, when your savage sons took Aemond’s eye?” 

“I do wish they would give me some credit. I did land a few good hits on him.” Baela, sitting by your side, mutters, quiet enough that only you hear. Still, you move your foot under the table and stomp on hers in reprimand.  

She answers with a little laugh that is entirely a mirror of her father’s, and you hiss a command for her to be quiet, but she grabs your hand in hers and, with laughter still clinging to her tone, issues quietly the High Valyrian for be calm, lykirī. 

Unaware of the small exchange between you and Baela, unaware, it seems, to the entire world beyond one another, your mother and Alicent go on in their argument, in their battle of words and of silences only themselves understand. 

Your mother’s smile is a lie, a mockery, as she shakes her head, dismissing, or perhaps refusing, whatever it is the Queen has said. Rhaenyra lifts the cup to her lips and takes a slow sip of wine, putting the cup down and only then speaking again, voice calm and yet cold. 

“You do not trust me, or my family. I understand this. It is why you wouldn’t marry Helaena to Jacaerys when I proposed it,” She turns to her oldest friend then, and a part of you wishes to berate her, to hide her then, because in your mother’s gaze there’s too much truth revealed. “Can you blame me for holding the same reservations as you did, now that I must entrust my daughter, my only daughter, to your care?” 

Alicent answers with the faintest shake of her head, as if the mere idea of what your mother fear is unthinkable. She adjusts her posture, unmoving again. Though not in the way a stone statue is unmoving, but in the way thin ice is.  

“A mother’s sins are not her daughter’s.” 

Whatever it is your mother is to answer with, if anything at all, is interrupted by Daemon’s laughter, cold and mocking. 

“How easily you change your tune, now that the noose tightens around your neck.”  

Alicent’s expression sours in disgust at the mere sound of Daemon’s voice, and she refuses to entertain his accusation with a response. Her eyes, warm and sad, linger on your mother for a few breaths, before she abandons the fight and straightens in her seat. 

Your mother shouldn’t have come here, not when she longs for peace yet the man at her side dreams of bloodied hands placing a crown upon her brow; not when her sons and Alicent’s long for violence and chaos as young men are allowed to; not when all she has done, all any of them have done, is pull you in warring directions, demanding and demanding and demanding. 

You down the last of your wine, resting your empty cup on the table and drumming your nails restlessly on the glass. 

Leaning closer to Laena’s oldest who sits at your left, you gesture with your chin at an open window. 

“If I were to fling myself from that window, you gather Vermithor is fast enough to catch me before I reach the ground?” You ask Baela, who hides a smile behind her cup as she lifts it to take a sip from her wine. 

Your jest with your sister is interrupted as someone leans closer to you. You turn to watch as Aegon, sitting beside you and pitcher of wine in hand, refills your cup. 

“No, but Sunfyre might be,” He answers, as if it were him you asked that question to. At your look, he shrugs, though a smile plays at his lips. “Just say the word.” 

Stupidly, more carelessly than you should allow yourself, you find yourself smiling back as you watch him lean back in his chair. 

Your smile falls when you turn to see the expectant face of your half-sister, who stares with wide eyes and raised brows. Baela demands an explanation without even parting her lips, and you merely shrug in response. 

Uncomfortable silence falls upon you all once again as your mother’s and Alicent’s quarrel comes to an end for now. You lean closer to Baela again and whisper, 

“What does it say of me, that I am considering the offer?” 

“I know not what it says about you, but it says quite a lot about this horrid evening.” 

You lean back in your seat, eyeing the people in the room, forced together by the wishes and fantasies of a dying man, bound together more so by the shared wounds that the shared love or blood. 

“First of many.” 

“Could I convince you to marry Aegon in the ways of our House and save us all from this circus?” Baela prompts. Dark eyes divert over your shoulder, and apparently deeming it safe enough, she adds, quieter, “Or to kill him? Either way, I can gift you the dragonglass for the deed.” 

She draws a short laugh from you. 

“It concerns me that you have come armed.” 

Your half-sister turns to you, a truly affronted look in her eyes, and whispers, “It concerns me that you haven’t. If I am to leave you here, I would do so knowing you have the means to protect yourself.” 

You shrug, “I have Vermithor.” 

“He doesn’t fit in a dining room.” 

“And I need no protection when breaking bread, cousin.” 

Baela’s smile makes her eyes narrow, and she clinks her glass against yours as she advices,  

“You should ease on the wine. Usually you can lie better than that.” 

“Shouldn’t you be tormenting my brother about trade in Spicetown? Or about those dignitaries from Asshai you mentioned?” You ask with a tired sigh, but still a slow smile curves at your own lips. 

“Shouldn’t you be walking about, charming hosts and guests alike? Almost two years of one diplomatic visit after another, I doubt you spent them like this.” 

“There was something I wanted from those Lords and Ladies. All I want from our family is an uneventful evening.” 

She scoffs, “You’ll sooner bring The Cannibal to heel.” 

The tension between your mother and Alicent seems to lessen, or at the very least become more manageable, as the dinner goes on. The room is filled with the murmur of ongoing conversations, and you are enjoying some pastry with what tastes like candied figs within it when Baela leans closer again and talks by your ear. 

“Speaking of tormenting your brother,” Baela motions with her chin towards your left side. “I gather he’s much better at it than I.” 

You turn to follow her gaze, and find Aegon leaning closer to your brother, who sits straight, frame coiled with tension. Aegon mutters something only your brother can hear, gesturing with his hand, elbow resting on the table. 

“You will hold your tongue when speaking of my sister, or I will cut it off.” Jace threatens, but it seems to fall flat, for Aegon doesn’t even move away, and the sly smile on his lips only grows. 

“I’ll still have my fingers,” Aegon replies with a shrug that only makes your brother further enraged. “Not to mention my c-…” 

“Please stop talking.” Helaena interrupts, nose furrowed in disgust. 

To your surprise, Otto Hightower laughs at his granddaughter’s words, with more warmth you ever believed him capable off. You don’t think you ever remember hearing him laugh before. 

Your disbelief only grows when the Lord Hand move his chair slightly closer to his daughter’s to make room for Helaena to sit beside him and opposite of Aegon and Jace, an offer the Princess takes without a moment of hesitation. 

Jace keeps his eyes on the table before him, both hands on the table and curled into fists, “Cease playing the jester, Aegon. All here know that the mere idea that a man like you is to wed my sister is enough of a joke.” 

“Jace.” Your mother attempts, but you doubt even she believes her attempt at chastising your brother. 

“Our family has wed us to one another for generations. To keep our bloodline pure,” Prince Aemond points out, eye sharp as it focuses on your brother. “I don’t expect you to understand, nephew, but-…” 

“What is it you are implying?” 

“Hm,” He muses, gaze piercing, calculating. “I mean only to point out that you and your sister weren’t married, as Baelon and Alyssa, as Jaehaerys and Alysanne were. It is quite apparent to me why, is it not to you?”

Jace moves to stand, and Aemond refuses to let the challenge go unanswered, returning the cup to the table to welcome your brother’s advance with empty hands.  

Looking across the table at your father, you silently beg him to interfere, but Daemon is entirely too preoccupied with Aemond, assessing him as who looks at a cyvasse table to plan their next move. 

“Speak these falsehoods at your peril, uncle.” 

“What falsehoods, hm?” He taunts, his cruelty sharp and honed like a sword, “We are family, both by bonds of blood and of marriage now. Isn’t it time we stop pretending?” 

A chair screeches against the wooden floor as Luke moves to stand as well, to defend himself as well, to answer to insult with violence. With a moment of hesitation with trepidation widening her dark eyes, Rhaena stands as well. 

“Sit.” Baela hisses the command, and to your surprise both of them obey without question. You’ve seen soldiers follow orders slower. 

It is only when he sits back down that you notice Aegon too was moving to stand, no doubt to defend his brother. You look at him with raised brows, and he answers to your unspoken question as to why he obeyed your Baela’s command with a gesture of his hands as if to say what else he is supposed to do. 

Amidst the tension and the madness, you find yourself resisting the urge to laugh, and shake your head, looking away from him. You notice the smile on his lips, though, even as he too turns his attention back to Baela. 

With one last glance spared at Rhaena and Luke, it is then that Baela turns her attention to Aemond. 

She has mastered the mocking and belittling look her father directs at his children whenever they defy him, and the slight smirk curving at her lips only manages to add insult to injury. 

Aemond shifts in his place, but refuses to give any ground. Instead of recognizing her challenge, her taunt, he turns his attention to your brother again. 

“Now your brother and stepsisters fight to defend you, nephew?” 

“It does your skill a disservice, My Prince, if you believe this a fight at all,” Baela retorts, the grace of her mother and the venom of her father. The way her eyes remain relentlessly trained on Aemond reminds you of a bird of prey on a hunt. “And a disservice to your family, if you mean to imply it is dishonorable that we defend our own.” 

A mocking little hm leaves Aemond’s lips, one-eyed gaze flickering between your brother and Baela. 

“You might wish to reconsider who you consider your own, My Lady,” He taunts. A breath, two, and then his sharp gaze turns to you, before he adds, “As your sister did.” 

“Excuse me?” You ask, but neither care for an argument about your true parentage, and to be honest, neither do you. It is only a few moments later that you understand the implication in his words, that you hear the certainty that your marriage to Aegon will earn them your loyalty. 

Baela scoffs, “You are more of an imbecile than I thought if you believe that.” 

“Baela!” Princess Rhaenys chastises, but she cares not for it. 

Aemond answers with mocking laugh that only enrages her further. 

The Queen reaches over the table and grasps for her son, fingers digging like claws into his arm as she hisses some words you do not hear. It seems he doesn’t either, for he shakes off his mother’s grip and turns to face your half-sister. 

“I see you do not deny it your shared blood with the Princess. Good for you, My Lady,” Aemond’s gaze turns from Baela to your brother, and a cruel twist of his lips aids the venom to drip from his words, “My dear nephew here could stand to learn to be prouder of his family.” 

What feels like a dozen voices start speaking at once then, accusations and insults from both sides, the elder voices -the voices at fault for this madness, attempting to bring hounds to heel long after they’ve tasted blood- attempting in vain to speak over the chaos. 

And in that moment, you are five and ten once again, Luke’s nose has been broken and Aemond’s eye taken, the smell of blood lingers in the air and shrill little voices argue, shouting over one another; and the King calls for silence but they don’t listen, bloodthirsty little beasts, what is left of children after a lifetime of licking their inherited wounds.  

But it has been years since then, and the wounds are now their own, made by their own hands and adorning their own bodies, in some more evidently than in others. They remain, however, as bloodthirsty as before. 

A passing comment by Otto Hightower is enough to make Daemon’s fist hit the table, and the two engage one another, trading verbal blows with a practice older than any of their children; while Vaemond Velaryon’s reaction to Aemond’s accusations make Corlys chastise his brother, starting yet another argument. 

A low call of your name draws your attention from the chaos erupting on every corner of this room, and you turn to your left to find Aegon has stood from the table, and is offering a hand to you. 

“Huh?” Your eyes dart between his hand and his eyes. He smiles, expectant and daring. 

He motions with his head to a small door the servants have used to come and go, an invitation. 

You only realized you have made your choice, that you let your hand slip into the offered hold of is, when you are being pulled into standing, when you are fighting back laughter as amidst the chaos you let him guide you out of the room and into the servant halls that run through the Keep. 

Thank you for reading! I hope this was alright, and at least worth the wait!

Also, to make this shorter I had to cut the “reunion” between Reader and Rhaenyra and Jace. If you’d like to read that, drop an ask or something and I’ll post it.

Next Chapter >>

Taglist: @21-princess @mrs-starkgaryen @nymeriiiia @akari-rioan @dottie-witch

[magics-neptunes-things]

Ready, Aim, Shoot (2)

Hi guys !

I hope you are fine. I’m still struggling with writer’s block but I tried some things to get over it, so here is my new creation.

It’s a mix from a request I had here, and for asks from the prompt that you can find here and here.

It’s the second part of Ready, Aim, Shoot but I tried to make it understandable even if you didn’t have read the first part.

So please enjoy ♥

TW : Mention of accident, coma, injuries, blood. But it will get better.

Prompt : 22 (I won't anyone lay an hand on you) & 28 (Why are you bleeding?)

PART 1 | PART 3

____________________________________________________________

You never felt as weird as Alexia takes you home from the airport. Barcelona doesn’t have change in any way, it’s still the same streets, the same traffic jam, the same scents, the same laughs and happiness of people. But you, you have changed. What you have to get through make you change. You’ve learned the death of three of your colleagues. They are dead and you are not. Some of them had kids, lovers and they are dead. Why you, aren’t you dead? Why did you survive the bomb, your injuries when others didn’t?

Alexia puts her hand delicately on your knee and you jump, returning to reality. She looks at you with concern and you try to give her a smile, but you fail.

“It’s going to be alright, mi Amor. You are not alone. I’m here so is your parents, your siblings and your friends.”

“I know” you confirm quietly. “I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be for anything mi Amor.”

You put your hand on Alexia’s, stroking her fingers with your thumb while looking outside. The sun is shining and you’re pretty sure that all the beaches are crowded with people. You always loved going there but with Alexia’s popularity you have to find more quiet beaches. Which you don’t mind. As long as you’re with her, it’s all that it matters.

At home, you are greeted by your cat who comes to rub himself against your legs while meowing, until you lower yourself to carry him. The movement makes you wince in pain, which Alexia doesn’t miss. But you assure her it’s okay, squeezing Diabolo against you. He let you do it for some minutes, before leaving your arms to go back to sleep.

“Glad to see that some things will never change” you roll your eyes.

Alexia laughs slightly, coming back from the bathroom where she putted your suitcase that she didn’t let you carry. She takes your hand in hers, taking you gently against her.

“If you hug me, you’ll see that I will never let you go”

“Take that Diabolo.”

You smile, getting as close as your injuries let you do it. The painkiller seems to start to stop working and you surely have to take one soon. But first you need to take a good shower, you’re not allowed to take a bath because of your scars.

“I’m going to take a shower” you inform your girlfriend.

She nods, kisses your cheek and follows you to the bathroom. You started to get off of your clothes, before stopping. You usually don’t mind Alexia’s presence in the bathroom when you take your shower, it’s a moment where you talk a lot about things. Sometimes she showers with you, other times she does different facial or hair treatments or she just sit on the toilet lid.

But today, you have way more scares than before and you’re not sure that you want Alexia to see it. The blonde sees you looking at her through the mirror and bites her lip. She immediately understands your torment.

“I’ll leave if you want. But I want you to know that it won’t change the way I look at you or the way I love you. No matter how your body is, you’re still you. And I will always love you.”

You nod, but you’re still nervous. Like if she doesn’t want to scare you, Alexia come to you slowly, surrounding you with her arms.

“Let me help you?”

She’s looking at your eyes in the mirror and you nod one more time. You let her take off your shirt and pants. She had done that a thousand times, but always with teasing hands or eagerly. Today, however, her hands are sweet and caring, as if she wanted to heal you with them. She also removes the protection on your knee and shoulder, with a thousand precautions.

She frowns when she sees your injuries. Your nose doesn’t look broken anymore, but you still have bruises and cuts. You swallow but then you see that she’s looking at one of your scare on your stomach.

“Why are you bleeding?”

You follow her eyes and shrug lightly.

“This one seems to have difficulty to heal” you mumble.

“I’ll take you to the Barca’s medic tomorrow. But now, you have to take your shower and get some rest.”

********

Alexia takes you to her favorite medical team and they work their magic. You still have pain sometimes, especially on your shoulder, but you are getting better. You filed your resignation some days after your arrival at Barcelona and it’s not a surprise for anyone. Some media tried to talk to you about what happened, but you shut them down every time. It’s too soon.

You’re pretty great during the day, you keep yourself busy with things. Alexia is almost always there with you and when she isn’t, you have friends or family visiting. Alexia takes you to walk in early morning for Nala’s stroking, every day. She’s an angel of patience, always kind, caring and loving. You cook for her every night, following her diet with attention. This allows you to occupy your mind and hands.

Your girlfriend and family insist that you go to see a specialist, to talk about what you’ve been through. You hate this. It’s always hard for you to talk about all this. You beg almost every time Alexia to not make you go, but she’s determined, confident that it will help you get better quickly. The worst thing is that she’s right.

At nights, however, it’s more difficult. You have trouble to fall asleep even if you avoid naps during the day to help you falling asleep. But it doesn’t work well. You stay still in your bed for hours; you don’t want to wake Alexia up. She takes so good care of you, she deserves her beauty sleep.

And when you fall asleep, you have a lot of nightmares. It’s normal and a process to get better if you listen to your psychoanalyst. But it’s still terrifying. For you and your girlfriend.

Once again tonight, Alexia is awakened by your scream of terrors. You’re still asleep in your nightmare when she sits on the bed. You’re turning around, the sheet wrapped around you, fighting against your nightmare. It’s always difficult for her to wake you up, she scared that you hurt yourself when you’re jiggling like that, but she’s scared too that she might hurt you.

So, she takes your face between her hands, calling you several times before you finally open your eyes.

“Alexia” you call her, terrified.

“I’m here mi Amor. It’s ok. You’re ok.”

You sit down too, looking around you. You become aware of the bedroom you share with Alexia and her presence at your side. She’s stroking your arm lightly, looking at you patiently.

“Ale” you mumble this time.

“I’m here. You’re safe. I won't anyone lay a hand on you.”

She takes you on her arms, making you sit on her lap. Letting yourself go against her. She strokes your back this time, rocking you softly. You let your breath slow down, very aware of your quick heartbeat.

“I’m sorry”

Alexia takes the time to kiss your jaw, your cheek several times and your forehead before answering.

“You don’t have to be.”

“Yes, I do, Ale. I’m a mess. I can’t sleep and I can’t do a lot of things alone because of my injuries. I keep waking you up almost every night because I can’t get better. I should have listened to you and stay at Barcelona. I’m so so…”

But Alexia doesn’t let you finish, putting a finger on your lips to stop your rambling. Tears are in your eyes again but for now you managed to keep them inside your eyes.

“You’re getting better, Y/N. You don’t zone out like you did when you came back. You smile more, your injuries are getting better, and I see you smile way more than before. No one expects to you to heal in two days, especially not me. You took so good care of me when I was injured, now it’s my turn.”

She puts a hand on your cheek, making you look at her. Her hazel eyes are looking at you with so much care and love that it took your breath away.

“What if the nightmares never end Ale?”

“We will find a way to heal you, mi Amor. I swear.”

You believe her. She seems so sure of herself that you believe her. She kisses your cheek again and when you turn your face, she kisses the corner of your mouth first and then your lips. One time, two time and the third you press your lips a little longer against her.

********

Alexia was right. You get better, even if it takes time. You still have nightmare sometimes, but you manage to not wake Alexia up every time. She’s not happy when you don’t though, wanting to be there for you as much as she can.

When your shoulder is better, she lets you come back to look at her games, as long as you are with her sister or her mother. She’s way too scared that someone push you and hurt you again to let you go there by yourself. You feel bad for Alba or Eli, given the imperious tone with which Alexia orders them to watch over you. But the two women don’t seem to mind, looking at you like you are the most precious thing in the world. When you joke about it with Eli one time, she answers you that you are the most precious thing in Alexia’s word. You didn’t know what answer to that.

Alexia always takes a thousand precautions with you, whether you are at home or outside. She doesn’t hesitate to scold someone who approaches you too much or to carry you from one room to another to avoid working your knee after your physiotherapy sessions. Which she wants to take you every time, by the way.

And the best thing about all of this, she does all of this without being intrusive. On the contrary. Her presence reassures you and is a strength for you. Your recovery without her would have been very much longer.

Tonight, she’s not taking you at home immediately after the game like she did the other times. Instead, she takes you with her in the lobby where the families are going after the games. There you met her friends, that you also appreciate very much too.

“Take it easy, Lucy, you’re going to hurt her.”

Alexia practically teleported to your side when she saw Lucy take you in her arms to greet you.

“I’m careful Capi, don’t worry.”

You smile at Lucy after she told you she was happy to see you again. You’re seeing many of Alexia’s teammates you haven’t seen since you returned to Barcelona. But your girlfriend never walks away from you, except to get you something to drink. And when you start to get tired, she sees it immediately.

“Do you want to go home?” she whispers in your ear.

You smile softly, letting yourself go against her. She passes delicately her arms around your waist and put her chin on your shoulder.

“You’re having fun, we can stay a little bit longer if you want.”

“How is your knee?”

“I’m fine, Cariño.”

She hums and keep you against her for a few more moments, kissing softly your cheek.

“Five more minutes and we go.”

“Alright Capitana” you smirk.

She snorts, pinching your rib lightly, surely not to hurt you. You can’t wait for your bruises to completely disappear, so that Alexia can start touching you again like she used to. Her love language being touching, you sometimes feel like she has to restrained herself.

That’s what you’re thinking about in her car when she takes you home. You’re thinking about it when you prepare yourself to go to bed too and when you’re in her arms in your bed you start to overthink it maybe a little too much. What if she never touches you like before, because all she’s going to see from you is this wounded woman? What if she finds someone else wit who she wants to share this kind of moment with? Alexia saw that you were a little lost in your thoughts when you came home, but she didn’t push you to talk about it.

You just have to look up to know what she’s peacefully asleep. Her face is completely relaxed, and her chest rises peacefully to the rhythm of her breathing. Yours is quite complicated, so you choose to escape her arms to take refuge in your balcony, hopping the fresh air will help you.

Sitting in a chair, you put your head in your hands, trying to collect your thoughts. Alexia promised to never let you down, but how can she be certain that her feelings will never change?

You don’t know how many times you are staying here, but Alexia’s voice almost makes you fall from your seat. You’re so surprised that you don’t understand what she says to you. You just blink at her as she’s looking at you with a worried look.

“You will freeze to death, come inside please.”

You take the hand she hands you to help you get up. And she wraps you in her arms in a protective way as soon as she closes the door. The warm of her skin makes you realize that you are, in fact, very cold.

“Were you trying to get pneumonia or something?” she asks, frowning.

“I couldn’t sleep” you mumble.

She sighs and she doesn’t have to say what she’s thinking. You already know that she’s not happy that you didn’t wake her. She doesn’t bother to tell it to you anyway.

“Do you need a hot shower, or can we go to bed?”

“We can go to bed” you sigh.

She seems upset and you hesitate to lye against her, but she takes you back in her arms.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she asks, some minutes after.

“No” you simply answer.

“Why couldn't you sleep so?”

“I don’t know.”

Alexia knows that you’re lying, and she hates it. But she doesn’t say anything, knowing that you will talk about it when you are ready. Some minutes passes before you talk again.

“I’m just scared” you whisper in the darkness of your room.

“About what?”

Her voice learns you that she’s not sleepy at all. Maybe she decided to stay awake as long as you’re not sleeping. She raises herself a little bit, to have a better look at you.

“Losing you”

Your voice is a whisper, but Alexia reacts like if you were screaming, almost jumping from her place in the bed.

“Why would you lose me?”

You shrug, but Alexia doesn’t have it. She looks at you, waiting for you to give her a proper answer. You take your time to choose your words, scared of starting a fight. You try to escape the real discussion once again.

“I don’t know, it’s just my insecurities I guess.”

“Talk to me, mi Amor. Please”

You look at her and sit down, feeling like you have to look properly at her for this kind of things. Alexia sits too, her beautiful eyes looking deeply at you.

“I’m scared to never be enough for you again. I’m not saying that I was at one time, but right now… What if you never se me again like someone… I don’t know how to say it without being cringe.”

You roll your eyes, tired of yourself. Alexia shows you once again how much she can be patient though, taking your hand in hers to interlink your fingers together.

“I don’t want to be your poor injured girlfriend for the end of our life. I want you to see me as someone who can take one of our long walk again, someone who you can do everything you want with. Someone you can touch the way you like without being scared of hurting.”

Alexia is looking at you closely, listening every one of you word with deep care.

“When I hurt my knee, were you seeing me like someone reduced?”

“Of course not” you frown.

“Well it’s just the same thing for me. I don’t see you as my injured girlfriend, I see you as the love of my life that I almost lost some weeks before.”

“But my body isn’t the same anymore, Ale”

“Your scars will only remind me everyday how lucky I am to have you and how much I love you. And I will kiss them everyday to remind me of that.”

Raising slowly her hand on your cheek, she starts to stroke it softly, but her eyes are full of love when she looks at you. Deep, sincere love. Then she kisses you before taking you slowly in her arms again, making you lye on her.

“You can sleep tight mi Amor. I’ll always be here.”

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

Don't Stop - Law x FemReader

Hey all! This is my first attempt at writing smut that I feel like is good enough to publish. Since it's kinktober, I wanted to contribute to the community in some way. I typed it up this morning and went over it a few times. Its fairly short, a little over 3k words and features mutual masturbation.

Edit: I keep going back and making changes when will the perfectionism leave me lol. I also changed the title bc I like it better.

This is for my Law girlie's. Hope you enjoy!

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Law had decided early on that day that he wouldn’t allow any distractions. He had let the paperwork build and build over the past couple of days, something that has greatly troubled him. It’s not like him to avoid work, but he couldn’t get that damn woman off his mind no matter how hard he tried. The feeling of her curves, the valley between her breasts, the sounds she’d make-

Today is different, though. Today will be productive and disciplined. He’s the damn Captain, a surgeon - he can handle a little discipline. But no matter how many times he reads through his paperwork, fills out variables and dots his signatures, he struggles with maintaining focus. He’s never felt so needy before, so goddamn horny. It’s annoying the way you completely flood his senses in every way. More than that, it’s irritating. After what feels like hours, but has likely only been maybe one hour of mindlessly dragging his eyes along the papers, he groans in frustration. Law leans back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He can’t. The moment he closes his eyes, all he can see is your beautiful smile. The way the light shines through your hair, the sway of your hips and the shape of your ass. How your lips looked wrapped around him last night. His thoughts get more jumbled, more needlessly arousing that he feels his cock twitch in his jeans. Fuck. Goddammit. This is bullshit.

Get a grip, Trafalgar. Get a goddamn grip on yourself.

He can’t take it anymore. In one swift motion, he stands abruptly from his desk and exits his office. Law can be a patient man when he needs to be, but today is not one of those days. He can’t focus until he sees you, until he gets the opportunity to bring you both to a fucked-out state of bliss. He needs to feel his body against yours, to light the fire in his veins that pervades and itches beneath his skin. Law barely even registers the faces he passes, the familiar friends and colleagues of his crew with their faces twisted with either concern or a knowing expression. They aren’t even on his mind. His feet move fast, echoing through the metal halls of the Polar Tang. He needs you. He needs you like air.

Law makes it to his quarters where he had left you this morning. He’d exchanged a few sweet chaste kisses in the early morning hours to try to convince the both of you that he’d come back for more later. Later arrived far sooner than either of you might have anticipated, but his control had snapped and he's now a man on a mission. He takes a deep breath, his hand lingering on the doorknob. This is it, Trafalgar, your one last chance to walk away before you-

“Fuck.”

A breathy moan reverberates from inside of the room. Law feels his heart stop and his blood turn cold. He knows that voice, the quality of swears that leave you when you’re in the throws of passion. Are you…?

Another moan, this time longer but softer. His eyes widen and his heart suddenly quickens at the sound. He can’t believe it. You are.

An internal, agonizing debate begins in his head. Should he walk in, give you what you need? Should he walk away, try to take care of business himself? At this point he’s too far gone - he knows what you’re doing and god does he want to join. With the sound of another wanton moan, his primal urges win out and he gently pushes open the door. He's careful to move it in just the right way that it won’t creak, unsure if he wants to get caught and possibly interrupt it. He slips in, quickly closing the door behind him to observe the debauchery going on in his bed.

And fuck, is it debaucherous.

Law takes in the beautiful feast before him - you lying back on the mattress, only a thin sheet haphazardly resting against your lower waist, blocking the full view of your activities. Your back is arched, eyes closed as your hands move desperately in tandem beneath the sheets. He can hear the wet sounds of your slick being invaded by your digits and, judging by the trembling of your legs, you’ve been at this for a while. A small, shaky breath leaves him as he hears your noises - god, those noises that haunt him and invade his dreams. Those enchanting, goddamn helpless sighs, little gasps and hiccups that escape you when you’re really enjoying yourself. Law swears he could listen to them on repeat and never tire of hearing them. The flush of your cheeks is so mesmerizing that his eyes linger there in particular for a moment, a growing desire rising in him to make that blush deeper. His eyes trail back down, and this is the part that really makes him really feral; you’re wearing his shirt, and it’s hoisted just above your breasts to expose the beautiful peaks of your areolas. Everything about you is so intoxicating, and the fact that you’re completely surrounded by him, his scent, his private quarters - all of it just sets him off. He is immediately hard in his jeans, feeling the tightness constricting him like a vice.

“Fuck…” Law breathes, accidentally falling back against the door.

That’s when you hear him. With two fingers still curled inside you, your finger desperately rubbing your needy clit, you halt your movements dead in your tracks. Your eyes widen at the sight of your boyfriend leaning against the door, his own face slightly flushed despite his usual resting-grumpy face. Your heart is racing and you can’t even think for a moment from the combination of the lustful haze and embarrassment filling you. You’re both quietly observing each other, watching with acute awareness that this isn’t what either of you were expecting. Finally, you can’t stand the awkward silence anymore, and you decide to speak.

“I thought you were working.” You say breathlessly, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your actions only moments ago.

“Yeah, I can see that.” You respond quietly. You’re trying to get a handle on your breathing, but your hands are still posed to attack at your aching center again. You don’t know why you haven’t moved them away yet, but now it feels awkward to call attention to that area.

“I was.” Law answers simply, a little more quickly than even he meant. “I’m not now, though.”

It doesn’t matter if you do call attention to it or not, though. Law’s eyes are already trailing down your body with a silent reverence and a hidden, predatory intention. His throat bobs as he makes it to the sheet that’s covering you. It’s silent again but only for a few moments this time. It doesn’t take long before Law’s self control breaks.

“Don’t stop.”

Your breathing hitches at his words, the way they sound so firm yet strained making your walls clench around your fingers automatically. Don’t stop - don’t stop? Your brain doesn’t even fully comprehend the command before your hands are already working you over again. The middle and ring fingers of your right hand rub slow circles at your clit, the same fingers on your left hand beginning to pump back into you. It’s not as intense as it was when you were interrupted but it’s enough to elicit small, needy whines from you. Your eyes stay trained on Law’s and the way his pupils seem to have darkened over his expression. You trail over his body in a quiet admiration for your boyfriend. His muscles that are taut beneath his shirt, the way his belt buckle rests on his waist, and his cock that's so hard and dying to escape his pants. The sight makes you groan and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from getting too loud.

A small smirk rises to Law’s lips. He sees exactly what you’re looking at and it drives him crazy with need. His arms are crossed over his chest as he watches the show, but he’s not sure how long he can last with the throbbing in his groin.

“Move the sheet.” He instructs, his voice smooth but commanding. It’s the same voice he uses when he’s giving out assignments or instructing a surgery. It’s also your favorite voice he uses in the bedroom.

You take your hand away from your clit, shakily moving it to remove the sheet that blocks his view. Once you’re fully exposed, your hand returns to your clit and a soft whimper escapes your throat. You’re pulsing around your fingers again when you see the way his eyes zero-in on your pussy and the good work you’re doing. Fuck, it’s such a turn-on to see the way his cock twitches in his jeans. Through breathless gasps, your hands increase their speed and your own gaze is fixated on Law.

“Touch yourself.” You instruct, using your own commanding voice despite how much you’re falling apart.

You don’t need to tell Law twice. His hands move to undo his belt with practiced ease, but his eyes never leave you. His smirk stays fixated on his lips even with how flustered he’s feeling. You’re so beautiful to him, you hung the goddamn moon and now you’re putting on the most perfect show for him. He can't get enough.

“You want me to get off to you touching yourself, (y/n)?” Law asks in almost a mocking, teasing tone.

You nod weakly, biting your lip when you see him toss the belt aside carelessly. His hands move to his buttons and zipper, and the sound of the zipper echoing in the room is enough to make a few needy sighs leave you. It’s only heightened when his cock springs out eagerly as though it was dying to greet you and make an appearance.

“Fuck, you’re so hard…” You groan, your eyes shutting briefly to try to get a grip on yourself.

That’s not good enough for Law, though.

“Hey, eyes up here. You’re the one who wanted me to touch myself.” Law says, his tone both firm and somehow still laced in mockery.

Your eyes snap open at his command and you can see he’s already making quick work of his shaft, his hand pumping in slow, measured movements. His tip is already red and inflamed, glistening beautifully with his precum in a way that makes you lick your lips. Without your permission, your hands have already started picking up the speed. Your two fingers are curling and moving in and out of you with a force that makes your body tense. Your fingers at your clit circle the bundle of nerves furiously, causing your body to shiver from the pleasurable sensations. You’re already so close from building yourself back up. This scenario, it’s the hottest thing that you and Law have ever done, which is saying something.

It’s so primal, so horny and hungry that both of you have to watch each other masturbate while longing to touch the other. The sounds in the room are absolutely sinful - moans, low curses, huffs, and the sound of skin being assaulted echo against the metal walls. Pure unadulterated lust fills the room and it's enough to make both you and Law feels completely enraptured by it. You’ve never seen Law so undone so quickly before and you’ve certainly never seen the way he touches himself. It’s almost hypnotizing to dart between the focused look on his face and the way his hand eagerly strokes his cock.

“Add a third finger.” Law commands, his voice breathless and strained.

You immediately do as he says, a third finger poking into your core with little regard. Another whine leaves you and the way your face contorts with pleasure causes Law’s hips to buck towards his hand involuntarily.

“Fuck, (y/n)...you’re so goddamn needy for me. You couldn’t wait a few hours?” He mocks breathlessly.

“No, I-...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Clearly. You’re so wet for me, I-” Law hisses, his hand clenching around his cock. “God, you’re so beautiful like this. Using your hands and pretending they’re mine.”

You groan, your body arching slightly at his praise. He always knows exactly what to say to get you there but you always give it right back to him. Dirty talk has almost become a game between the two of you. Ordinarily the surgeon is very introverted and stern, but in the bedroom he has a way of opening up far more than you’d ever expected.

“Yeah? You like that I couldn’t stop thinking about you, that I- ah-...that I needed to fuck myself?” You respond just as breathlessly before biting your lip to suppress another whiny moan.

Law doesn’t respond immediately, a strangled huff leaving his throat instead. He’s not one for making a lot of noises, but you have a way of bringing out the worst - and best - in him.

“What were you thinking about?” Law asks quickly, almost like he’s compelled to.

Your hands increase their speed, your fingers almost slamming into you and dragging along your walls. Every now and then you touch that beautiful, spongy g-spot that makes your pussy clench tighter.

“You bending me over your desk, slapping my ass and calling me a good girl.” The words fall out of your mouth, and you’d almost be embarrassed if you weren’t so worked up.

That doesn’t matter to Law, though. He groans, his head falling back against the door he’s still leaning against. He can feel his heartrate quickening and every word you say is pushing him closer. Your voice alone is like a goddamn aphrodisiac.

You’re not doing much better, either. Seeing him almost lose himself from your admission sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t take your eyes off of his cock - you’re completely fixated by the way his veins decorate his shaft and the tattoos on his hands moving fervently to bring him to a release. You can feel yourself reaching that peak, teetering on the edge towards absolute nirvana.

The noises coming out of you are not even controlled anymore - they’re animalistic, urgent, and your hands are moving with that same energy. It’s been quiet for a minute now since your admission, but Law speaks up quicker this time than the last.

“Look at you, taking your fingers so good. You're such a mess.” He breathes, his hand stroking his cock a little faster now. He can see the sickness of your fingers when they exit you and it's so delicious looking. “A goddamn mess. So fucking tight you can barely move your fingers.”

“Law.” You whine, your body tensing. He's absolutely right - with how much you're tightening and pulsing on your fingers, you can barely move all three of your fingers. Your walls have a firm grip on you as if trying to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, baby? You say my name so goddamn perfect. Say it again. Say it.” He commands, small huffs of air leaving him. If you could hear anything over the noise of your pussy and the sounds leaving you, Law can be heard groaning so softly.

“Law. Fuck, you feel so good.” You gasp, your mind completely hazy. It's not even him in you but you're so preoccupied by the movements of his hand that you can't help it. It's what comes out.

“Mm…do I? You wish it was my cock stuffing your pretty pussy instead?” Law groans, his head falling back again. He's so close that he can't even begin to hold himself together anymore.

“Yes. Please, I want…fuck, I-...oh my g-...” You choke out, your words barely even coherent anymore. You're so close, right on that precipice, and it makes Law let out a breathless chuckle.

“You gonna come already? Fine, do it, then. Be a good girl and look at me while you cream on your fingers.” Law commands breathlessly, his voice strained but stern.

That's all it takes for you. With a final curl of your digits, you're sent firmly over the edge and into complete unfettered ecstasy. The way you tremble and keen makes Law finish too, though his is more controlled and fairly silent save for one quiet groan.

Law can't peel his eyes away from you as you finish. It's mesmerizing watching you writhe and work yourself through your orgasm. It feels like he's watching some taboo art he's not supposed to. Your body is so gorgeous to him that it makes his heart pound. How in hell did he get so lucky?

After a few moments of panting and quietly recollecting yourselves, Law pads off across the room to grab a towel and clean his hand. He'd managed to catch most of his release, though he has to wipe some of it from his shirt. With a sigh, he removes the material, chiding himself silently for making such a mess. He finally glances back over at you, seeing the blissed-out limp expression on your face. Law smirks before making his way over to the bed, taking a seat next to you.

It's quiet for a moment and he can tell that you've fully come back to yourself. Your flushed cheeks indicate the embarrassment that seems to have finally settled in. He chuckles softly, taking a hand to brush some hair from your forehead.

“You have a good time?” He teases quietly.

You groan, annoyed, and avert your gaze from his. You've never been caught masturbating before, much less masturbated with someone else. It was as vulnerable and shameful as it was hot.

“Shut up.” You pout. “I didn't think you were coming back for a few hours.”

“I know.” Law says gently, moving his fingers delicately through your hair. “It's fine. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Yeah, well I disagree.”

“What? You didn't like it?” Law asks with a small smirk. Judging by how you two got off, he knows that you'd be full of shit to deny it.

“Tell you what. I still have some work that I need to get done. At lunch, though, I want you to stop by my office.” Law leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. “Maybe we can make that fantasy of yours a reality.”

You don't even bother answering. You know he knows the answer. After a few moments of silence, Law clicks his tongue his fingers moving to drag his knuckles across your cheek gently.