#i fucked this up earlier and i’m Only able to do this from my ipad

[eve209]

‼️‼️SMUT WARNING CAUSE IM PISSED‼️‼️

FOR SOME BACK STORY: on Roblox I got banned for a day then when I was logging back in it wouldn’t let me do to the 2 step vari so….I’m mad rn tbh and I wanna fuck Roblox

ROBLOX X TOP MALE READER

THIS FANFIC IS JOKE PLS (kinda short)

(Update that account got deleted…)

‼️WARINGS‼️ punishment, spanking, light choking, degrading, little praise here and there, daddy kink (only 2 times though), pet names, mirror fucking, almost gettin caught, sir kink.

_________________________________________

“FUCKING HELL DUDE” I said bashing my head on my keyboard then looking back up at the screen in front of me.

“What are you mad about this time?” My homie,  Kayden on the call said while chucking.

“Ya know how got ban from Roblox yesterday?”

“Mhm”

“well now I’m trying to log in and it says I have to have a 6 digit code that got sent to my email and I didn’t hook a FUCKING EMAIL ON MY ACCOUNT.”

“PFFFFFF HAHAHA, do ya want me to come over and help with it? Maybe I can spend the night or somethin.” Alex said while I heard him shuffling for something, probably his phone.

“But then I have to wait 45 minutes for you to drive here tf am I going to do in the mean time!?” I said while stretching out my arms and pushing my gaming chair back with my feet till it hit my bed while still having my headset on.

“It’s ok dude your gonna live im packing rn so hold tight and jerk off or somethin.” Alex said.

“BRO WTF-“ I said while getting cut off by the end call sound.

“Fucking hell…” I said breathing out but again getting interrupted by a strange noise coming from the pc. Bringing my head back down from looking up at the ceiling while everything started to violently shake around me.

“What the fuck is happening!” I said gripping the arm rests of the chair then closing my eyes and waiting for everything to be over.

….

…….

Suddenly everything stopped. ‘What the fuck..’ I thought opening my eyes slowly while feeling pressure on my lap.

“Hi there! I heard you are having a hard time logging into your Roblox account! May I help you in anyway to satisfy you?” A soft male voice said above me while I was looking my lap seeing tight, outlined thighs with a small bulge in between.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?” I said looking up, following the tanned body that’s connected to the thighs I was checkin out earlier.

“Oh I’m sorry dear! I’m Roblox! I’m sorry I forgot to introduce myself! Your having trouble right? Well I’m here to take that trouble away!” Said Roblox while holding an iPad, still sitting on my lap.

“Y-yeah I am having trouble. My names (M/n) by the way..” I said lightly grabbing his waist so his ass can stop grinding on my dick.

“Yep! I already know that but thank you for reminding me!” He said but then quickly adding onto it while starting to turn around to the PC, “What seems to be the problem sir?”

‘Fuck…’ I thought while still holding on to his waist. The sight of his round, squish-able ass on my covered dick kinda turned me on. ‘I never knew a fucking app could have such a fuckable ass…’

“Um sir, what you do need help with?” Roblox said while slightly turning his body to the side to look at me.

“Oh yeah um I can’t log into my Roblox account because it says I need a six digit code thats sent to my email but it didn’t send me it so I don’t know what to do.” I said scratching the back of my head while looking up at him, still on my lap.

“Oh well are you sure that you checked your inbox?”

“I’m pretty fucking sure…” I said tilting my head back.

“Well then I’m sorry sir but I don’t know how to help you then…you probably turned on two-step verification and didn’t put an email to go with it!” Roblox said, moving his body to face me again while resting his hands on my chest, and looking at me.

With a deep sigh coming from my mouth, I moved my hands to go under his butt and stood up while still holding him and walking to my bed and placing Roblox in the middle of it.

“Um sir! W-what are you d-doing!” Roblox said moving his hands to clutch the pillow, his head was laying on.

“You said you were here to take my trouble away right?” I said, taking off my hoodie I had on.

“Y-Yes! That’s what I’m here for, but what are you doing!” Roblox said with a worried look.

“Well I have some trouble with my dick and I think you would be perfect and you need a punishment for not doing your job right.” I said putting a hand next to Roblox’s face and looking down on him. “How does that sound princess?” I said slipping my hand down to grab his ass.

POV NOW IN 3RD PERSON

“But sir- MHMM!~” Roblox stuttered before (M/n) smashed his lips onto his roughly and slipped his tongue in his mouth.

As (M/n) was taking his sweatpants and boxers off, he took his tongue out of Roblox’s mouth to replace them with two of his own fingers.

“Fuck baby, look at how hard my dick is because of you.” (M/n) said, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off while taking his fingers out of Roblox’s mouth and entering his fingers in his tight hole. After stuffing his fingers in, (M/n) immediately started to thrust his fingers faster and harder making Roblox scream in pleasure.

After a couple of minutes, Roblox’s tight hole was already nice and loose, which once (M/n) realized this, he took his fingers out and stopped jerking his massive cock off. “Fucking hell, do you know how much time and money I put in that stupid fucking account since I was like 10?” (M/n) said, grabbing Roblox’s neck, choking him, and leaning down to slide his tongue around Roblox’ s face cheek.

“P-please sir! I’m s-so sorry I couldn’t help but I-!~ AH!” Roblox said before getting cut off by (M/n) thrusting his cock into Roblox’s pathetic hole, making Roblox cum right then and there.

“S-shit Baby your still so fuckin tight after fingering your hole for 10 minutes, goddamn slut.” (M/n) said til grabbing onto his neck. Roblox couldn’t even get a breather, nor thought in before (M/n) started thrusting fast into Roblox, making their skin slap together.

“AHH~! DADDY PLEASE!~~ it’s to much! Please daddy I just c-came! Wait wait w-wait!” Roblox said tears of overstimulation and pleasure running down his face.

“God princess, just take it.” (M/n) said while smacking Roblox’s ass.

After 20 minutes of thrusting, choking, degrading and praise, (M/n) still hasn’t came deep inside Roblox like he wants! Unlike (M/n), Roblox has came 3 times already, almost passing out. “F-fuck what a good boy you are baby, such a big dick for a tight ass like yours and your still taking it.” (M/n) said smirking as Roblox arched his back.

“Fuck! S-sir! I-it’s to m-much! Ah!~” Roblox said screaming as (M/n)s dick reached the deepest part of him.

*knock knock knock*

….

“Who the fuck….” (M/n) said stopping, but not pulling out of Roblox. Roblox whimpered,  tightening around (M/n)s cock. Breathing heavily, Roblox asked (M/n) “W-why did y-you st-“. “HEY DUDE WTF ARE YOU DOING??” Kayden said still knocking on the door.

“F-fuck um ONE SECOND LET ME GO TAKE A SHOWER!” (M/n) said covering Roblox’s mouth in the process.

“NAH MAN WTF I WAS JOKING ABOUT YOU JERKING OFF YOU FREAK” Kayden said, laughing and fidgeting with the door.

“BRO STFU I HATE U I DIDNT DO THAT” (M/n) said picking up Roblox and walking to his bathroom in his room. Quickly turning the shower on and sitting on the lid of the toilet. (M/n) breathes and slaps Roblox’s butt and throws his head back before looking at Roblox and whispering..

“You think you can be quiet?”

[atlafan]

I need to complain for a second because that’s what I do best:

So, my brother and his wife are going to a concert on Sunday evening. Their sons are going to sleep over at my mom’s. A night with Mimi, super fun. I mentioned I wanted to do pumpkin painting with the boys so my mom said I could come over to join them on Sunday around 5:30. Perfect. That gives me the day to do whatever and I can feed Henry before I go.

Apparently, my brother didn’t know the venue was standing room only. Which is odd because these days nowadays when you buy tickets no matter what site you buy them from, it shows you a picture of the venue, and when you purchase the ticket, it tells you if it’s GA or standing room or if you have a seat. Fine. Whatever. So my mom mentioned to me that my brother and his wife wanted to drop the boys off a little earlier. My mom works 9-5 on on Sunday. So I was like okay no problem. My sister in law hasn’t told my mom specifically how much earlier, so I said I’d reach out and ask since I’d be getting to my mom’s to be there for the dropping off the boys. I’m expecting like 4:30.

No.

She tells me 3PM. Idk what kind of traffic or what the fuck they think is going to happen. So at first I said okay yeah 3 works. But I was like shit I can’t bring Henry to my mom’s because he’ll be too rambunctious, my mom has two little dogs one of which is blind, and my sister and her baby might come over. My mom is also annoyed that I’ll be by myself with the boys for like two hours because that’s not fair to me. Like all I wanted to do is paint some fucking pumpkins with my nephews. Now I’m babysitting and have to keep they preoccupied. So I told my mom I’d come up with a story to see if they could drop them off later.

So I texted my sister in law and said I had a nail appointment and I wouldn’t be able to get to my mom’s until 4. An hour later my brother texts me asking what’s up. So I tell him the same thing. I was like I might be able to do 3:30 I’m doing the best I can to help out. And he said he wasn’t mad and he appreciates me helping out. So then I call my mom, and she’s with my other sister and my brother texted her to see if she could be there to hold down the fort so I was like omfg and I texted my brother and I was like I moved the appointment around so I can still come at 3.

So now Henry isn’t going to eat dinner until like 8PM, which is fine, it’s more me feeling bad. But also now it’s gonna be like my whole day because I’ll have to leave my house at 2:30 to get to my mom’s for 3. And by the time I get home that night I’m gonna be too tired to do any of my usual Sunday night things. And like I’m the grand scheme it’s fine, I just don’t like that all of a sudden they didn’t know their tickets were standing room. And also what if I couldn’t get there earlier? Like it’s almost taking advantage of the situation. And I feel like everyone thinks I have all the time in the world because I’m not in a relationship anymore. I’m excited to be with my nephews, but this is going to be a whole thing now. So I hope they don’t mind watching a movie on my iPad because I’m not painting shit until my mom gets home. She got them a ton of fun craft things and I’m not starting without her. Period!

[highqueenofelfhame]

25 Days of Christmas: Day Three.

There had been a sinking feeling in my stomach all day from the second I had spotted Rhysand Asterie across the street. He had been laughing at something his cousin and my best friend Morrigan said, everything about him radiating such a beautiful energy that I wanted to drown in it. A long time ago, we had maybe been a thing, maybe had a future, and then I’d moved away for college and despite our best efforts we couldn’t make it work. To say he was my first love was an understatement. He was my first, current, and future love. I just hadn’t realized it until this morning.

Beside me, Tamlin had an arm thrown around my shoulder. His fingers were brushing swirls along my upper arm and I was tense and uncomfortable. Nauseous. Touching him felt wrong when you realize what it was you wanted your future to look like. Especially when your future had bronze skin, black hair, and eyes such a shade of blue that I swear on all that is holy you can make out constellations in the silver reflections in them. Rhysand was the exact opposite of Tamlin. Tamlin was the golden boy, he was like a god of spring with his golden hair and bright green eyes to Rhysand’s dark demeanor and darker reputation.

Except that the reputation wasn’t anywhere close to true, and there were only about six people in the entire world that knew so. Tamlin wasn’t one of them.

The room was full of my family, my three sisters and their respective fiance’s. Both of them were garbage excuses for men, but neither of them were ready to hear so. Tomas and Greyson were awful, treated my sisters awful, but in our small town outside of Prythian they were all any of us really knew. Had I never moved to Prythian in the first place, I probably would have married Isaac. Not that it would have been bad, Isaac wasn’t the worst of of the men our village had to offer, but I had the sinking feeling that I wouldn’t ever be happy. Just like I wouldn’t be happy with Tamlin.

Just like I would be ending our relationship as soon as he dropped me off at my apartment later on tonight.

Of all the things that I didn’t see coming, it was when during the gift exchange Tamlin exchanged a small glance with my father. It was something he didn’t think I noticed, but I had, and I only became more and more alarmed by the second when he got to his feet in front of me.

Our relationship had been great, at first. In the beginning he had treated me so well that I couldn’t really imagine being with anyone else - save the nights that memories of Rhysand woke me under the cover of the moon. Tamlin had been kind, he was handsome, and up until a few months ago he had been great. Our relationship wasn't perfect, but the steep decline in his behavior was directly linked to him being in love with me and scared I was going to leave him for someone else. I was half certain that Lucien had had something about my relationship with Rhys to him at some point, a relationship I’d never talked to him about, and that was why he got so uptight. I didn’t have proof that he knew, though. I just knew that somewhere down the line he had an issue with someone named Rhysand and judging by literally everything he said, I knew it was my Rhysand. So I kept my mouth shut.

So now, with Tamlin giving some form of a grand speech that ended with him kneeling in front of where I sat on the couch, I couldn’t hear a single thing. There was a certain roaring in my ears, a certain level of tone-deafness that had swept through my brain and blocked out all thought that didn’t revolve around Rhys. It was a miracle I even caught his question at all.

Will you marry me? His lips mouthed, and before I could stop myself, in front of my entire family, I said no.

Not only did I say no, I said it so quickly that it was unmistakably a denial. The ring was not at all my type - a large emerald on a yellow gold band that didn’t suit my complexion or my personality whatsoever. If it fit anyone, it fit Tamlin, but I’m sure that was the point he was trying to make.

“No,” I said again when he reached for my hand, my head shaking still as I stumbled to my feet and ran out of my father’s house and left the man I had spent the last eighteen months with. I could hear him coming after me but I didn’t stop until I was in my car and speeding out of the driveway, away from the lights that my dad had decorated the outside of the house, away from my siblings and their gross fiances that I couldn’t stand.

I wasn’t going to settle. I refused to settle.

I didn’t even realize where I was going until I was in front of his house. Several cars were parked outside but it didn’t really matter, not when I started ringing the doorbell with shaking hands. It was freezing out and I wasn’t wearing a jacket. In fact, despite the falling snow, my dress was short sleeved and I’d not grabbed my shawl on the way out the door.

“Feyre?”

“Cassian. I -- Rhysand? Is he here?” It felt like a stupid question. It was Rhys’s house, of course he was likely inside, but Cassian nodded and moved to let me inside. I marched in on a mission, ignoring everyone until I saw him leaning back in a chair, tossing a small box over to Amren. Whatever was inside had pleased her immensely, for she gave him a wicked grin and pulled the jewelry from the box. “Rhys?”

I hadn’t intended for my voice to come out so breathlessly, but here I was hardly breathing as he stood and strode over to me. There was worry written all over his face, carefully taking me in as though looking for some sort of injury that he wouldn’t find. Physically, I was fine. Emotionally I was wrecked and wanted him to hold me until I felt whole again.

“Feyre, darling, what are you doing here?”

“He um,” I paused and had half the mind to ask him to go somewhere more private but I couldn’t get the words out. “Tamlin proposed. In front of my family. I saw you this morning. Outside of Rita’s  and I haven’t been able to get you out ever since and I… I said no. In front of everyone, the ring was… I said no. I said no and then ran out and ran here and I’m hoping. Hoping that maybe you hoped I would show up here and that I would say no when he asked me to marry him. Did you? Hope?” My cheeks were flushed and burning as I stared up at him. His eyes were so intense, staring back down at me with such fervor that it made me cheeks heat even more.

“Only for the last four years,” Cassian drawled from behind me, and I huffed a laugh. But still, I needed to hear it from Rhys. My leg bounced nervously as I waited, waited, waited, until his lips finally curved up into a smile.

Still grinning, he pressed a kiss to my forehead and whispered, “Only for the last four years.”

@starseternalnighttriumphant @musicmaam @kandasboi @empire-of-wildfire @schmlip-scribble @myfeyrelady @the-regal-warrior @tangledraysofsunshine @shyvioletcat​ @rowaelin-feysand​ i’m so sorry 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment

Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment

A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!

________

“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”

“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”

“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”

“Really?”

“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”

“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”

“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”

“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”

“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”

“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”

“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”

“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”

“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”

“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.

“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.

“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”

“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.

“Twenty years, why?”

“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.

“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.

“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”

“You got that fancy computer though.”

“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”

“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.

“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.

“Debatable.”

“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said. 

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“No.”

“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”

“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”

“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”

“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”

“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”

“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath. 

“You okay?” 

“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”

“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”

“No. Why?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”

“That was Dee’s hoodie.”

“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”

“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”

“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.

“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.

“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”

“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”

“This Is Us?” you asked.

“Supernatural?”

“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said. 

“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”

“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”

“I will Y/N. Promise.”

Friday Night

“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”

Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.

“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.

“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders. 

“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.

“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”

She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.

“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.

“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.

“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”

“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”

“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”

“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”

“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”

“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”

“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”

“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”

“It’s my adorable face,” he teased. 

“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”

“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”

“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Next Night

You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.

He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.

“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.

“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”

He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.

“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.

You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.

“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.

“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”

“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”

He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.

“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.

“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”

“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.

“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.

“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”

He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.

“This is fucking awesome,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”

“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”

“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.

“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”

“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.

“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”

“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”

“Hm?”

“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.

“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”

“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”

“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.

“If it’s a problem-“

“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.

“I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”

“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.

“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.

“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.

“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”

“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”

“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”

“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.

“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.

“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”

“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.

“Now that’s just sad.”

“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.

“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.

“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“

“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said. 

“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t...talk about her much.”

“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”

“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head. 

“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”

“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”

“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.

“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”

“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.

“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled. 

“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.

“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”

“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”

“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”

“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.

“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”

“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.

“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”

“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”

“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”

“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”

“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”

“No,” you said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”

You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.

“What?” you snapped at him.

“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”

“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”

“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“This is my part of the house.”

“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”

“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”

“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”

“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”

He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.

“The kids-”

“Not the kids.”

“I don’t remember,” you said quietly. 

“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it. 

He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”

“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.

“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.

“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.”

“Cause he’s kinda me.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”

“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”

“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.

“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...” 

He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath. 

“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”

“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.

“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.

“All of the above.”

“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good,” you said.

“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”

“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“Normally the best course of action,” you said.

“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”

“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”

He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.

You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids. 

“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”

“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”

“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.

“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.

“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”

“Is there any other kind?” you said.

“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”

“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.

“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”

“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.

“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”

“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”

“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”

“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.

“Are you ready to try this?”

You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.

“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.

“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.

“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed. 

“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk. 

“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.

“I hope not,” he said. 

“Do they know? You want to date?”

“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”

“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”

“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.

“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”

“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Want help?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you. 

“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.

“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.

“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”

“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple. 

“Night Y/N,” she said.

“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut. 

“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.

“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”

“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”

“Thinking about what?” you asked.

“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.

“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said. 

“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.

“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[jjungkookislife]

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 5: I’ll Be Good (M)

pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff

wc: 5.1k

warnings: [not in order] cursing, mentions about mental health (depression and anxiety), loneliness, daddy!kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, good girl, doll, love), alcohol use/mentions, spit kink, choking, nudes, oral sex, nipple play, marking (hickeys, bruising, biting), hair pulling, thigh riding mentions, unprotected sex, mention of birth control, jealousy, possessiveness, creampie

date: March 31, 2021

The last thing Jimin wanted to be was stuck in a meeting with men who still didn’t trust him with the company, despite his great efforts. He made sure to keep his demeanor hard— frigid— refusing to allow them to see him as weak. It took a toll on him, a large heavy weight on his mental health, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now because he had you to help him carry the burden.

You.

You were wonderful in his eyes. Smart, beautiful, funny, but that mouth of yours often got you in trouble. You liked to push his buttons, liked to rile him up to see how far he’d go. You were a brat at heart, but a princess at any other time when it suited you. He lov—he liked that about you.

Ever since he had first met you, he’d been drawn to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your smile, your laugh, or the way your eyes caught his at the bar of some party he couldn’t even remember the occasion of. You smiled at him, excusing yourself from the man that had been chatting you up. Jimin paid him no mind as you strutted toward him, head held high and your drink clasped in your perfectly manicured hand.

You were stunning. A true vision in your red dress that hugged your body just right. Your makeup was spectacular and as he eyed you shamelessly, you giggled. He knew he was gone then, more so when you smiled brightly at him, hand held out for him to bring to his lips to kiss as you told him your name.

Jimin repeated it, as sweet as a lullaby. Your hand remained in his after introducing himself, not wanting to let you fall through his fingers. He was the envy of every man in attendance that night, but a quick romp in the sheets wasn’t what he was looking for, and frankly, neither were you.

After the night of the party, Jimin contacted you. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you, fantasizing about all the naughty things he’d like to do to you... if you’d let him. You were eager, a pawn in his hand, ready to bend at his whim… for compensation.

You were a sugar baby. And definitely not a new one. You knew your way around, knew your worth, and knew when someone just wasn’t going to pay up. But Jimin would. Of course he would. Companionship, sex, and a pretty face with a personality that drew him in, keeping him on his toes… what else could he want? 

Now, although Jimin didn’t date or had the time to, honestly. He got laid pretty often, if he so desired. He’d had his share of flings, some lasting longer than others, but they all took off when he wouldn’t commit. He had no desire to, not when he had first taken over the company and not in the present either.

Jimin liked his life easy. Liked to spend time with his friends, do his hobbies (tennis, skydiving, swimming, and fucking) whenever he damned well pleased. 

Loneliness did creep in. Lonely nights of tossing and turning in an empty penthouse with nobody to share it with. Those dark thoughts consuming him, calling him back to bed when there was work to be done.

He was tired of it. Tired of feeling lost and alone, carving a hole in him that his friends just couldn’t fill, despite their best efforts.

Easily, Jimin agreed to your terms. He’d spoil you rotten, absolutely rotten in exchange for your companionship and sex. He didn’t need a girlfriend, just someone who could act the part without the commitment; the jealousy. Someone to fill the hole in his chest.

Your affection and friendship came with a price tag and some other suitors, suitors Jimin paid you to disperse off. You had put a fight to keep them, but money talked and those other daddies walked.

Jimin had smirked, sitting beside you as you cut off all your other sugar daddies. Some confused, some enraged, and some asking if you were okay. 

When he was your only daddy left, you’d smiled smugly. You’d crossed one leg over the other, ignoring the way your dress rode up your thighs, a peek of your panties drawing Jimin’s eyes as you said, “I expect the same from you. No other babies, no other women, just me.”

“You can’t be serious?” Jimin had gasped, his pouty lips in a frown.

“How bad do you want me?” You’d asked, crossing your arms under your chest to draw his attention to your breasts. Jimin had gulped, eyes wide as he licked his lips. You were a temptress, a seductress who knew how to play the game, and Jimin was at your mercy. He was your pawn and with your hand reaching for his belt, he knew he was doomed.

And doomed he was from the very start. He fell into the role very easily, thrived in it and still did. You were wonderful. A ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy days. He wasn’t sure how he lived before you; he was sure he didn’t. You were everything he could have ever wanted in a person and so much more, and when his friends loved you as well, he was set.

His baby. 

You were his baby and he would take care of you in any way possible, not just financially. He had bought you cars, diamonds, vacations, clothes, iPads, cell phones. You named it; he bought it. All you had to do was send a link, a screenshot, or simply point to it before it was in your hands. The more he got to know you, the more he found caring about you, wanting nothing but your happiness. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, and he didn’t think he was ready to understand it, if he was honest. So, he suppressed his feelings and did what he did best; spoil you with materialistic items. If only he knew you wanted him, and not his gifts.

Jimin looked down at his shoes, concealing the smile that tugged on his lips at the thought of you. He carded a hand through his hair, forcing himself to pay attention as the dull voices wore on and on. Time couldn’t go fast enough as he daydreamed about you waiting in his bed when he eventually got home tonight. 

It was the weekend. Maybe he could have you stay the night without you rushing out the door tomorrow morning. He liked when you stayed over, liked having you in his arms all night and being buried between your thighs in the morning.

Why were you consuming his thoughts like this? What kind of spell did you have him under? Recently he’d begun feeling… different around you. 

Jimin hadn’t been jealous since you cut off your other sugar daddies. He wanted you for himself and only himself. Mostly because it would be safer (no condoms and you were on the pill), but also, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else. You felt the same way, although you’d never admit it to his face. You’d rather choke.

Lately, these feelings—whatever they were—had made his head spin. He didn’t want to feel more. The thought alone sent him into a panic. But… he also didn’t want to end things. Could he be lying to himself? Sure. Most definitely, as his friends constantly reminded him. 

Feelings were dangerous. Feelings—especially one-sided—could cause the beautiful relationship you both had to crumble into smithereens. And then what would he have? Nothing. Not a damn thing if you weren’t in his life. He’d be lonely again. Miserable. A shell of a man like he was before he met you. 

Jimin would not go back to that. Not ever. He refused! And so with that, he buried his feelings deep in his chest, under lock and key. And nobody, not even you, was going to let them out.

“Mr. Park? Are there any issues you’d like to address or perhaps some questions?” One of the board members asked. Jimin looked at his assistant, “did you get all that?”

At the nod of her head, Jimin responded, “No, we’re all done here. I’ll see you next week. Dismissed.”

Jimin rose from his seat at the head of the table, passing by everyone to go out the door before they even had a chance to blink. His assistant was hot on his heels, with barely an inch of distance between them.

“Marissa?” Jimin stopped, his assistant halting in her tracks just before an impact could occur.

“Yes, Mr. Park?”

“Is anything on my agenda time sensitive? I’m suddenly feeling ill and would like to go home.”

Marissa looks at her tablet, scrolling through the rest of the afternoon. The sun would set within the hour, and Jimin’s most pressing meetings and appointments had been conducted earlier in the day.

“You have a call scheduled with your father. He says it concerns your brother.” Marissa informs him. Jimin rolls his eyes.  He knew that phone call could drag on, and frankly, he didn’t care to know what his younger brother was up to.

“Reschedule for next week. I’m sure he can wait,” Jimin waves his hand, popping into his office to grab his belongings before announcing his departure. Marissa calls the driver, alerting him of Mr. Park’s departure, and Jimin smirks as the doors of his private elevator shut.

It felt good to be the boss.

Jimin sat back in his limo, growing more inpatient as the minutes ticked by. You’d already sent him some racy photos, each growing more and more risqué until you were down to just your panties, back arched and fingers dangerously close to slipping into your panties.

‘I’m waiting, daddy.’

Jimin cursed, biting his lip as his building finally came into view. He wanted to devour you in kisses, consume every bit of you until you were writhing beneath him, hands pinned above your head as your pretty eyes locked with his.

“We’ve arrived, sir.” The driver stares down at his boss, who is just staring down at his phone, finally noticing his door has been opened and his driver is waiting for him to get out. Jimin immediately locks his phone, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket before getting out.

“Thank you,” he says as he walks past him and into his building, greeting the doorman as he gets into the elevator. He swears it’s dragging today, but it could be his eagerness to get to you, knowing you’re waiting for him in his bed in nothing but a pair of flimsy panties is torturous.

Jimin rushes inside his penthouse, “Baby, I’m home.”

“I’m in here,” you call back as Jimin heads down the hallway, a smirk on his lips as he opens his bedroom door.  

He bites his lip. You’re a vision. A true vision as you lie on his bed, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I missed you,” you say softly as Jimin walks further into his bedroom. His hand begins to loosen his tie as he kicks his shoes off, ignoring how they clatter on his bedroom floor.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, princess,” he apologizes as he climbs onto the bed and you get on your knees, crawling over to him.

“Really? Are you going to show me how sorry you are? I’ve been waiting such a long time, daddy. I almost had to take care of myself,” you pout, your hand tightening his tie, eyes hard. Jimin licks his lips, his hand wrapping around yours before he’s caressing your face.

“Is that so?” he asks, moving his hand to undo his tie. He holds the black silk in his hands, twining it as he looks at you, his eyes drawn to your bare breasts.

“Very. It’s not nice to keep me waiting,” you whisper as you inch closer, lips pressing a featherlight kiss to his neck. Jimin swallows thickly. You quickly work your way through the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his black slacks. You push his jacket off his shoulders, letting it crumple on the floor.

Jimin raises a brow. You ignore it. Your lips are planting kisses on every inch of his neck, pushing his shirt down his arms. You feel his bicep, looking up at him with a grin before he’s pulling you to him. You gasp, your chest pressed against his as he threads his fingers in your hair to pull you into a deep passionate kiss that has you moaning into his lips.

“Jimin,” a sigh of his name has him grunting, eyes wild as he kisses you once again, pushing you onto your back. You giggle, loving how he sloppily kisses your face and neck.

“Jimin! Jimin!” you exclaim, giggles filling his bedroom as you look up at him. Jimin feels his heart skip a beat, cheeks tinted pink as he grins widely at you, “am I forgiven, princess?”

“If I say yes, will you stop slobbering on my face?” Jimin smirks, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides. You gasp, moaning and melting under him. 

“Open,” you do as instructed, sticking your tongue out for him. So obedient. Such a good girl for him.

Jimin releases your throat, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes as he squeezes your cheeks. He spits on your tongue, releasing you, “swallow.”

You do.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, carding a hand through his hair. You stick your tongue out again for him, watching as he undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor carelessly. He straddles your hips, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue twining with yours. He grinds down on you, swallowing the dulcet moans that escape you as your hands weave in his hair, tugging at the locks. Your hips meet his, feeling his erection with every roll of your hips. Your panties are soaked, utterly ruined as you beg him to touch you… to fuck you.

Jimin smirks, pressing a kiss to your kiss-swollen lips to silence you. His lips trail downward to your jaw, down to your neck where he nips and suckles at the sensitive skin as his hands cup your breast, thumbs circling your pert nipples before it’s his tongue swirling around them. Teeth gently nipping your nipple, your back arched into him as he palms himself over his slacks.

“Tell me,” Jimin starts as he rises, one hand palming his dick, the other kneading your breast. “What did you do while I was gone, doll?”

“N-nothing,” you answer honestly. Your body is heated, sweat beading at your hairline, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to you obscenely.

Jimin looks into your eyes, his hand moving over your chest. He can tell when you’re lying, having figured it out right from the start. Simple little tells: lack of eye contact, biting your lip and a racing heart.

Grinning, Jimin brushes his lips against yours, “good baby.” You preen at the praise, smiling bashfully before his hand is unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down as he climbs off of you to pull his pants down the rest of the way. He takes a second to remove his socks, knowing you don’t like them on during sex.

Jimin shoots you a knowing smile as you sit up on your elbow, hungrily admiring his body. He was sin incarnate. Perfectly sculpted from his strong shoulders and neck down to his thighs that you just loved to ride until you were nothing but a creamy mess. The thought makes you clench, licking your lips as you crawl toward him, getting off the bed. Jimin eyes you curiously, slightly amused when you drop to your knees in front of him.

You look up at him, resting your weight on your heels as you lean back. Jimin can’t resist you, running his thumb over your lips.

“So pretty,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling soft and secure. Warmth overwhelms you as you maintain eye contact, swallowing thickly. “So, so pretty.”

“Jimin,” you whine, your hand resting on his. You look at his cock, licking your lips. It’s straining against his boxers, pre-cum staining the material; it makes your mouth water. “Please?”

Jimin knows he’s putty in your hands, that look alone is enough for him to buy you the world, hell maybe the universe. How can he ever say no to you, his princess?

“Sure, baby.” That’s all you need to hear as your tongue laps at his boxers. Jimin is surprised but his fingers thread in your hair regardless, tugging gently as a warning not to tease. He’s been hard since this afternoon and the last thing he wants to be is teased. He aches to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, your nose pressed to his pelvis. 

You tease the head of his cock through his boxers, earning a tug of your hair before you’re pulled back. Jimin’s heated gaze sends a tingle down your spine, “baby.”

A simple warning, one that has you pulsating as you lick your lips, hand reaching for the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down his muscular thighs before they pool at his feet and he kicks them away. 

A curse escapes him when your lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling around the head as your hand strokes him. Jimin groans at the feeling. He could never grow tired of you. 

Jimin caresses your face when you pause to look up at him, “so pretty.” You grow flustered, ignoring the way your cheek heat as you begin bobbing up and down instead, making him moan and groan instead of complimenting you. Your plan works, Jimin overcome by the pleasure your sweet lips provide as you suck harder, sloppier, gagging on his big thick cock, hoping your throat won’t get bruised once again. You didn’t want to go through that embarrassment at the dentist again.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck,” Jimin grunts, your name spilling from his lips as he tugs on your hair, guiding you and setting the pace. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my dick. So good for me.”

You deep throat him, loving the sinful sounds that tumble from his pretty lips. His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as utter bliss crosses his ethereal features. Moans of your name, curses, grunts, and praises escape his lips as he praises you to the high heavens as his cock sits heavy on your cock, lips sucking the soul out of him.

A whine falls from your lips when you’re tugged off his cock by your hair, your adorable confused gaze meeting his cocky one. 

“Up,” he commands as you rise to your feet. He kisses you, his tongue meeting yours as you grip his biceps to hold your balance as he kisses you passionately. Arousal pools deep in your abdomen, body fueled with lust.

“Daddy, please.” Jimin chuckles, kissing his way to the column of your throat, nipping at the skin. A moan of his name rolls off your tongue as he wraps your legs around his waist to take you to his bed. 

Jimin sets you down with care, having you lie back as he climbs over you. His lips brush against yours, a featherlight kiss that has butterflies fluttering in your tummy. His hand cups your face, saying nothing as he admires your body. You were aroused, panting and aching for him. Nobody else. Just Jimin. 

The soft look you give him is what sends him over the edge, kissing you roughly as he holds you tight. Maybe… just maybe, you could love him. Love him the way he’d deny loving you. You were everything for him, but was he to you? He didn’t want to think about it right now, not when you were wet, ready, and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum.

“Jimin…” your hand cups his cheek, his dark eyes flitting to yours. 

God, he loved you.

“Please,” you whisper as your hand moves down to his neck and then his chest. Jimin swallows thickly, nodding as he takes your hand in his, fingers laced together as he pins it by your head, earning a gasp from your pretty lips.

With one last squeeze of your hand and fleeting kiss to your lips, he moves down your body. He wants to mark you as his, leave love-bites on your skin for the world to see but he resists if he wants to keep his plans for tomorrow.

Jimin’s fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to suck a tiny mark on your hip. You roll your eyes, but you love the slight possessiveness.

“I’m yours,” you assure him regardless. It works. Jimin presses a kiss on the mark, gently tugging your panties down your thighs, you lift your hips to aid him. He tosses them over his shoulder to be forgotten.

His hands immediately grab your thighs, spreading them.

“Fuck, so wet for me. All for me,” Jimin licks his lips, looking up at you. You resist the urge to cover your face as he kisses his way up your thigh until he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. A sigh escapes you, making him smirk before he’s diving right in. Your hands seek purchase in his sheets, fisting them as he works wonders on your cunt.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter, hand embedded in his thick locks, hips rising from the bed to chase after his tongue. His hand pushes you back onto the mattress while he continues to feast on you, one leg thrown over his shoulder as his fingers slip right in, curling and scissoring inside you. His tongue flicks your clit, swirling in circles before his lips are suckling it. 

You arch, crying out for him over and over again. Sweat beads between your brows, a sheen of sweat appearing on your body as you writhe beneath Jimin, wanting to crush his head between your thighs. 

Jimin looks up at you, watching as pleasure overwhelms you, his fiery tongue the source of all your curses and pleas. Your hands cup your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between your fingertips as you cry out, “Jimin… Daddy… I can’t!”

Your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Your skin is hot, flushed as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten before you cry out, “I’m coming! Fuck!”

Jimin doesn’t stop his ministrations, continuing as you fall over the edge. His name rolls off your tongue in a mantra, eyes squeezed shut and the sheets fisted in your hand once again as you arch your back. Jimin waits until you’ve fallen slack before he slips his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he sucks them clean.

“Feel good, princess?” Jimin asks, a smirk on his lips.

“Mmm,” you murmur, your eyes still closed as you try to regulate your breathing.

Jimin chuckles, “you good, love?”

“More than okay,” you answer, sitting up to crawl over to him until you’re straddling his lap. Jimin’s hands immediately grip your hips, your lips pressing against his. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him from going anywhere. 

Jimin buries his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as you line him up at your entrance, sinking on to him when he least expects it.

“Baby, fuck,” he grunts, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as you hold him close while he finally bottoms out. You bite your lip, groaning at the stretch that has your eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his perfect muscular back.

Hesitantly, Jimin looks at you. Three words sit heavy on his tongue as you stroke his face, biting your lip as you roll your hips. Your eyes flutter shut, your hand falling to his shoulder, moans of his name filling the space between your bodies. 

“Y/n,” your name is a delicate whisper, his hold on you tightening, swallowing the heavy words instead. He kisses you, losing himself in you instead. Lust is easy, lust he can deal with. That’s all this is, he lies to himself once again as you ride him. 

You hold Jimin close, fingers threaded in his hair, tugging it to make him meet your gaze, “you always fuck me so good, baby. So, so good.”

“This tight cunt is all I can think about at work. You’re such a fucking distraction but coming home to you waiting on my bed wet and horny is so worth it,” Jimin kisses you, tongue pushing past your lips before he’s rolling you over so he’s on top.

“Jimin,” you moan, his thrusts hitting all the right spots. 

“On your knees, baby.” You do as you’re told, getting on your knees and arching perfectly for him. Jimin smacks your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles. He smacks it harder, your cry of his name making his cock throb in his hand as he strokes it before lining himself up at your entrance, grunting when the thick head of his cock is welcomed into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you curse, face in the pillow, turning your head to the side. Jimin grabs your arms, putting them behind your back, wrists crossed together as he holds them with one hand while he fucks into you. His head is thrown back, saccharine moans escaping him as you fuck back into him, moaning when his fingers rub at your clit.

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good..” Jimin bites his bottom lip, a poor effort to try to muffle the moan that threatens to escape his pretty lips. His eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the warmth and wetness of your cunt. Your sweet moans fuel him, consume him as he pistons in and out of you to coax more of those dulcet moans from your lips. His hand moves to raise you, wrapping around your throat. Your eyes flutter shut, melting into his touch as he squeezes. 

“Jimin,” you rasp, overcome with pleasure as he continues to rub at your clit. You shutter, your hand wrapping around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. Jimin grunts, kissing your cheek as he grinds his hips into you, slamming them when you cry out that you’re close.

“Come for me, princess. Please,” his angelic voice has you pulsating, doing as he’s asked as you grip his wrist and come. Jimin moans, lips planting kisses on your shoulder before he’s biting down and coming with you.

“Jimin… Jimin!”

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, love. Come for daddy,” Jimin moans, eyes shut and lips parted as he moans your name repeatedly, filling you with cum until you’re unable to hold yourself up. Jimin chuckles, lying you on your back on his bed before he lies beside you.

“Fuck,” you giggle, pushing your hair out of your eyes as Jimin takes the chance to kiss your sweat beaded forehead. You grimace, “gross, I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care, princess.” Jimin covers your face in kisses, making you laugh until you’re pressing your palms on his chest to push him away. 

“Jimin!” You squeal, kissing his cheek before cuddling up to his side. He kisses your temple, holding you for a few minutes before he’s pulling away from you to get you some water and lead you to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up.

You end up taking a quick shower, exchanging kisses and lingering touches before you’re wrapped up in a towel in his bedroom. You’ve brought your own clothes to sleep in, but you take one of Jimin’s baggy shirts instead, climbing into his bed while he puts on a pair of boxers.

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ve got plans tomorrow,” he tells you as you snuggle into your side of the bed, pulling the comforter up to your chest.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, princess.” Jimin whispers, caressing your cheek before you close your eyes. He watches you until he’s sure you’re asleep, hoping you can’t hear how loud his heart beats.

The morning sunlight streams in through the cracks between the curtains, the light stirring Jimin awake. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes with his hands until all he can see is black dots before his eyesight settles once again. 

Beside him, you’re still sleeping, clutching the pillow to your chest. He sits up, admiring the serene look on your face as you snooze away beside him, so comfortable, stress free. 

Jimin’s heart thunders in his chest when you stir, rolling over and seeking out his hand with yours. He easily gives it to you, squeezing softly when you settle soundly. 

As the world outside begins to wake, he can’t help but want to stay in this bubble the two of you have created in his home. Nobody to bother you, nobody hounding you to do this or that. Nobody to disturb your utopia. 

Jimin caresses your face, his delicate touch makes you moan softly as his fingers push your hair out of your eyes. He stares at you freely, admiring your features. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it still baffled him how you’d agreed to this arrangement. He knew he couldn’t give you more, and on days like today, he desperately wished he could. But what would that get him? Get you? A broken heart and the loss of his best friend? He couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk it. Money was easy. Money came and went, but you stayed regardless if money appeared in your account at the end of the day. That scared him.  Why would you stay?

“If we’re having a staring contest, you gotta wake me up first, Minie.” Your voice startles him, his hand hastily pulling away from your face as you sit up. He hopes you can’t see the pinkness in his cheeks or the embarrassed smile on his lips. 

“Way to ruin the moment,” he laughs, shaking his head, and your heart skips a beat when he gives you his radiant smile. 

“I didn’t know there was a moment to ruin, baby. I’ll close my eyes and you can keep staring at me,” you giggle, rolling over and shutting your eyes. Jimin settles behind you, draping his arm over your waist before you wiggle into him. 

“I hate you,” he jokes, kissing your temple. 

“Mhm, your cock is way too hard for you to lie about that,” you smirk, wiggling further into him. 

“Shh,” he chuckles deeply, kissing your cheek, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. 

��Show me how much you hate me, Min,” you goad him, turning to face him. Your eyes lock on his and Jimin can’t help but fall for you even more. He wonders if it’s obvious to you like everyone else? He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you. You were destined to fail, and who was he to stand in the way of destiny?

“Lie back, princess. Let me get a taste of you.”

<< previous // next >>

masterlist

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

[babytaes]

reaction to playing video games | tbz- ─ ot11 ˎˊ˗

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: a few curse words, quite lengthy 

requested (anon)

✧ sangyeon∘*

Not only did whining get you places, but it also warmed your boyfriends' stone cold heart. It's a perk.

“Baby...I'm dying to play. You and the others never let me play.” You moped over to his setup and pouted as you sat at the edge.

“All right, I'll let you play once, but if you lose. So, please-.” You winked at him as you pressed your finger to his lips and grabbed a remote, settling in for the game.

“What the fuck was that, Y/N? You never told me how good you were.” He exhaled deeply and lowered his headphones. You strode out the door laughing, pushing his chair away and saying.

“See, should let me play more."

✧ jacob∘*

“DID YOU SEE MY CONTROLLER, Y/N?” As he rummaged through his room looking for it, Jacob yelled out to you.

Hearing his shouts from the living room, you swiftly grabbed the controller from the stone table and laughed your way to his man cave.

“You always leave it by the living room set up,” You say. He chuckled and kissed your forehead, thanking you as he pulled the controller from your grip.

Jacob called out to you just as you were about to walk out the door.

“Hey, want to play with me? Today, the boys are offline.” You rushed over to the chair and snuggled up close to him as you grabbed your red controller, smiling at his request.

“Mr. Bae, are you ready to be demolished?”

✧ younghoon∘*

Over the facetime call, he whispered something and pointed the iPad at your screen, tapping it to make it clearer.

“I need help with this level; I've literally asked the guys and they haven't been able to assist me. So I figured I'd consult the master.”

You let out a gasp and shook your head.

“Not sure why you didn't ask me FIRST,” you remarked, rolling your eyes, “but I guess I'll help you.”

He finally made it to the boss level after minutes of discussing the level and advising him where to go. Before kissing the screen, he turned to you and smiled broadly.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"Anytime Younghoon"

✧ hyunjae∘*

As you sat your headset down and spoke into the mic beside you, you heard a knock on the door.

“Hey guys, I'll be right back. Leave some suggestions for places to visit in the game in the chat.”

You walked out and unlocked the door after turning off your microphone and camera. Hyunjae stood in front of you, holding some containers, much to your astonishment. He strolled in with a joyful smile on his face.

“My mum insisted on me bringing some food over since you know how they are.”

You kissed his temple and went to get some chopsticks and bowls while putting some food on the table for him.

“I only have a few more rounds on my server before I can leave. You are more than welcome to observe; you may certainly benefit from it.

As he scoffed, he glanced up with a wide mouth and noodles in his mouth.

“Wow.. some sort of friend you are.”

✧ juyeon∘*

“So you're a gamer,  Not like those people who do "games" online."

Before displaying your Twitch, you pushed Juyeon and laughed. He appeared intrigued as he scanned through the videos before selecting one.

He leaned back,  head resting on your lap. As the demon rushed toward the screen, he was already dying from your reaction. You asked him a question while rolling your eyes at his state.

“Hey, do you want to be a part of my broadcast one day?” I'd be happy to show you some things.”

Before returning to his comfortable position, he glanced up from his seat and nodded his head.

“I'm thinking about subscribing because this is high-quality content.”

✧ kevin ∘*

“Have you played Animal Crossing: New Horizon?” Kevin poked your side from his laying down position, waiting for your answer.

Your eyes widened as you lowered your phone and slowly turned to face him, jaw wide open.

"Don't tell me you play Animal Crossing too?"

He showed you his Switch with a laugh and a nod of his head.

You sprung off your couch and dashed to your bag, returning with your Switch.

“You should have told me earlier; you must see my house!”

✧ new∘*

“Why don't you stop being so bad, then we can talk about my techniques.” As you scoffed, you turned your head sideways to look at New.

“Says the person who recently finished last in our team's tournament. Do you want me to check the scoreboard one more time, or are you finished?”

Sunwoo shook his head as he walked back to his room, looking at the two kids arguing.

“This is the 20th time the kids have fought this week, Sangeyon. If you don't want to do anything, I'll do it for you.”

You both turned around to see an agitated Kevin with twitching eyes.

“Forgive me, Kevin, but I'll be more mature and quiet.” As you pushed the play button on the game, you laughed.

“Bitch” New whispered under his breath as he “accidentally” killed your character off.

“OH NOW IT'S ON.”

✧ q∘*

“Please let me play one more time, Y/N. I'll do better. “I will vanquish the Evil.” Not amused by his confidence, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“All right, but don't injure my ears for the 4th time today. I will smack you."  He gave you a wink and walked up to your game set. As he watched you set up everything, including the Oculus, Changmin tapped his legs. That dreadful thing.

As you finished prepping everything, you switched off the lights and set your LED's to purple. You took his hand in yours and kissed it many times while rubbing the back of your neck.

“I'm sure you'll be fine.” Changmin turned to face you and said "fighting" before putting on the headphones.

As you observed him, you noticed that he was doing fairly well; he was approaching a new area of the level as he frantically looked around. As his scream echoed throughout the house, you clenched your hand and squeezed your eyes.

You quickly grabbed the Oculus and yanked it off, only to be confronted by a frightened boy.

“At the very least, you made it past the first section. I'm proud.”

✧ juhaknyeon∘*

“You're killing me, Love; it's not fair.” You tossed the controller on the couch and pouted at him with your arms folded.

He laughed and walked over to your side, pausing the game.

“How about a hug and a kiss as an apology?” Next round, I'll take it easy on you.” He smiled and drew the two of you closer together. As your eyes opened, he held onto you. Grabbing your controller, you tossed a knife at his character as he collapsed to the ground. 

“BABE... “What was the point of that?”

You returned his controller to him, smirking.

“You always gotta be ready, learn from the best.”

✧ sunwoo∘*

“Babe, it's only a simple tap, hit, and swing,”  Sunwoo fought to breathe as he rested his hands on his knees.

“Wait..I-..just give me like 10 minutes,”   As you stood over his large figure, laughing at his antics, he dropped to the carpet.

“So you can dance for hours at a concert, but you can't get past the first two levels of Just Dance? Sunwoo, make it make sense.”

You watched as his face lit up with a smile and his chest rose and fell as he chuckled.

“That's different; these dances are crack. Who comes up with it?

You looked up at the TV, shaking your head, and chuckled at the title song.

*The Stealer* 

“What an ass.”

✧ eric∘*

“So, according to your buddies, you're a Mario Kart "master,” is that correct?” Eric spun around and clasped his hands together in his fancy gaming chair, cocking his head to the side.

“It depends on your willingness to face him.” He chuckled and sat you down in front of one of the monitors.

You strolled up to his setup and sat down, laughing. You took the controller and customized your bike while choosing your character, Pink Toad.

“First and foremost, ladies, I'll let you choose the level.” You chose Rainbow Road and started your engines, smirking at his arrogant face. As you thought about how this was going to be the ride of a lifetime, he winked at you.

“FINISH... AND THE CROWD GOES CRAZY. What's the number on the scoreboard? PINK TOAD TAKES FIRST PLACE AGAIN!!”

Before resetting his controller, he rolled his eyes.

“Rematch?”

“Will you be able to handle the Master for the second time now...?” you smirked.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[dramaqueeenamby]

𝙎𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝗈𝖿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 | seven

Parings: CEO!Chris Hemsworth x Stripper!OC // Words: 7.8K // Type: Series // Taglist: Yes/No (Inbox me to be tagged or removed) Warnings: Sexual harassment, racial themes, discussions pertaining to child death, miscarriage, alcohol/drug use, and suicide attempts. Angst.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the inexcusable delay in updates. This chapter is hella long and perhaps should have been split into two, but I promised ya'll some answers in the last chapter, so here they are!

“What is that haircut?”

“Why are you zooming in?”

Kaya said nothing, continuing to pinch her fingers to gain a closer look, her smile widening by the second. “Holy shit, you weren’t kidding. “

Chris rolled his eyes. “All children go through phases.”

“This is beyond a phase, my friend. Don’t even get me started on the outfit.” As she erupted in yet another fit of giggles, he took advantage of the opportunity to snatch the iPad away from her.

“Go to sleep.”

Quieting herself down, she wiped at her eyes. “No. Come on. I’m enjoying this, and like you said, you were a dumb kid. How were you supposed to know these photos would haunt you till’ the end of time?”

“Only if they get out.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, sir.”

Chris closed the app and looked over at her. “What about you?”

Kaya’s brow lifted. “What about me?”

“What about your phases?”

She snorted. “Absolutely not.” He continued to stare her down, prompting her to cave, a surprising move even for her. Kaya’s tenacity was typically much stronger than that. “Fine.”

She grabbed her phone and unlocked it, opening Google Photos and scrolling mindlessly. She knew that any horrifically embarrassing snapshots would be from as far back as her library went. The older the photo, the higher the likelihood she would regret ever caving.

It took roughly two minutes for her to locate a set, her eyes shutting and a small moan leaving her partially closed mouth.

He smirked. “Found it?”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You’re going to make me regret this, aren’t you?”

“Without a doubt.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “At least you’re honest.” Blowing out a breath, she issued a formal forewarning. “In my defense, I was young and dumb.”

“How is that diff—fine, I will reserve my judgment.”

“Liar.” When he said nothing else, she took another deep breath and gradually pulled her phone away from her breast, twisting her wrist so that he could see the screen. “I give you, thebaddestputa69.”

She watched the corner of his lips lift upward as he fought off a smile in favor of a smirk. “Hotmail or aol?” Her surprise at his knowledge of the fallen email servers must have shown because he commented, “I’m old, not ancient.”

She matched his smirk and leaned over to whisper. “Hotmail. Definitely hotmail.”

“AIM username?”

“Come on, the same as my email. I wasn’t creative enough to have multiple aliases.”

He chuckled, grabbing her phone to examine the photo. “I certainly do not miss the peace sign era.”

“I’m pretty sure I used that same pose in all of my photos back then.”

He gestured to the plastered graphic that read ‘jealousy is a disease, get well soon’. “With the same masterful level of editing, I’m sure.”

“But of course, blingee and picnik were a staple.”

A comfortable silence befell them as he returned her phone, and she quickly swiped up to close the app. Kaya was grateful that he didn’t swipe right or left, something she was expecting him to do, if she was being completely honest with herself.

Kaya yawned and naturally laid her head on his shoulder as she reached over to grab the book she was reading when they somehow got on the topic of rebellious and wild phases of days of past.

“Are we th—”

“Finish that sentence, and I will personally throw you out of this damn plane myself.”

Kaya looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth pronounced. “It’s a legitimate question.”

“No, it was a legitimate question. However, it stopped being one when you asked me the fifth time.”

“I’m just trying to keep the conversation going. Damn.”

“No, you’re just trying to pester me.”

“Look, it’s obvious you don’t want to hear me talk anymore, so I’m just going to shut my mouth for the remainder of the flight.” He snorted. “What?”

“We both know that’s not possible.” He finally broke his gaze from his phone as he looked over with that knowing smirk that she despised. “You always have to have the last word.”

“That is not true.”

“Kaya, you’re like a child.”

“Keep it up, and you’ll be the one who’s personally tossed from this jet.”

“See what I mean.”

Groaning, she threw her hands up and shook the book in her right hand. “This is the second book in this series.”

“And?”

“And I started the series when we were still on the taxi.”

He shrugged. “Read slower.”

“Chris!”

He laughed, reaching to place his hand on her thigh as she sighed while banging her head back against the headrest. “Relax.”

“Don’t you think if I could, I would?”

“You were doing great five minutes ago.”

“That was in the past.”

“Next time, we’re taking separate jets.”

She didn’t know why but hearing him refer to future happenings both excited and saddened her, for more reasons than one. She cleared her throat. “This is a work trip, right?” He looked down at her as she placed the book down on the ground and held onto his bicep. “You know, something for your company.”

He studied her for a moment and looked up, closing his eyes as he laid his head back against the headrest. “I have the cover of this month’s GQ Italia.”

“Fancy,” she remarked, still unsatisfied with his answer-non answer. “So, I was right. This is a work thing.”

Chris thought about what she said, what she asked, as well as his response before he replied. “They offered to contract a photographer in LA.”

Brows scrunched, she had to ask, now more confused than she was just a few minutes ago. “So why go to them?”

His silence only irked her, the seconds dragging into minutes, which felt like hours. Frustrated and impatient, she called his name again. “Chris-”

“Jesus,” was all she heard before his lips were on hers, palm of his hand pressed against her cheek. Everything else after that was a sensual blur. His other hand moved to her hip, pulling her onto his lap, never once breaking their kiss. She placed her hands on his shoulders, giving a light squeeze, inching her body closer to his, close enough to feel the heat that always emanated over him.

And then, it was over.

Eyes fluttering and breath staggering, she nearly whined when he ran his thumb over her swollen bottom lip.

“This isn’t work for me.”

----

“This is our room?”

Chris looked up and chuckled, watching Kaya spin around the middle, eyes soaking in their suite. He placed her bag near the closet while crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“It is.”

Kaya nodded and grabbed the bottom of her sweatshirt, tugging it over her head. She extended her arm out and turned around, lifting a brow. “And we have maid service, correct?”

He eyed her. “Of course.”

Kaya smirked and let the garment fall to the floor.

Chris chuckled. “You wanna explain that?”

“What?” She played innocent, fingers toying with the waistband of her joggers as she began to shimmy out of them. “Staying in a fancy hotel where I don’t have t0 clean up after myself?” She walked toward him, moving to grab her suitcase so that she could find her next outfit. “Granted, we have the maid service at home, but—” Both Christopher and Kaya paused at her statement, equally surprised by how easily it flowed, but more so with the statement itself.

Defense immediately kicked in and Kaya cleared her throat. “I mean, ya know, your place.” She refused to make eye contact that exceeded ten seconds, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and dragging it in the direction of what looked like the bathroom.

“Dibs.”

Her feet weren’t moving fast enough for her liking. In fact, they were slow enough that Chris was somehow able to cross the room and grab her by her arm. She looked up, managing to remain calm while inwardly panicking.

God, please don’t let him ask anything.

“Don’t take too long.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

Her grip on the handle tightened when he moved his hand to her face, the back of it brushing against her cheek. Had he been paying close enough attention, he would have noticed the way she shivered at his touch.

“You want dinner, don’t you?”

-----

“This isn’t exactly what I meant.”

Kaya looked up from her pizza, pausing mid chew. “What? Pizza in Italy? This is goals.”

He intended to take her to a fine restaurant, one where only the elite could afford to dine. Instead, she requested pizza delivered to their room. Kaya never ceased to surprise him. “And why are you eating pizza with a fork?”

She shrugged, adjusting the thin strap of her shirt. “Because pizza is messy, and my life's already messy enough. I avoid when I can.”

Chris didn’t say anything, simply watching her eat. She caught his gaze and looked away. If she could, she’d go back in time and stop herself from ever saying what she did. It’d ruined everything. He’d been acting different around her since, and she hated that. She also hated that she hated it.

Since when did she give a flying fuck about what people thought of her? Let alone him.

It was out of character for her, and she didn’t like it.

She didn’t like it at all.

Similarly, Chris also found it difficult to focus on anything other than the encounter from earlier, but not for the reasons Kaya thought.

Not even close.

“So, what’s the agenda for this trip?”

He chuckled and brought the champagne to his lips. “And ruin the surprise?”

Her eyes narrowed as she replaced the fork with her fingers so that she could eat the crust piece by piece. “What surprise?”

“What kind of question is that? Who gives away a surprise?”

“Are you capable of ever just answering my questions with a straight answer?”

He pretended to think. “I could.”

“But?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“You and fun? Never realized they were synonymous.”

“I’d like to think we have fun.”

“We have sex. Really, really, great sex.”

“You don’t consider that fun?”

“Fun isn’t a strong enough word to describe it.” He lifted a brow, and she scoffed, tossing a red pepper packet in his direction. “Stop it. I am trying to have a mature conversation here.”

“Not quite sure how possible that is when both parties are inebriated.”

“Bullshit. You know damn well neither one of us is drunk. You haven’t seen me drunk. Hell, I haven’t seen me drunk in a while.”

The way her tone changed toward the end of her sentence garnered his interest. “Why not?”

She looked at him, her smile faltering as she nervously cleared her throat. “I—uh—I get really bad migraines, and Excedrin is the only thing that works for me.” Telling him the truth, well, a fraction of the truth, felt strange yet relieving, probably because she’d spent so much of her life hiding and lying that the truth was unfamiliar territory. “Needless to say, meds and alcohol? Never really a good combo.”

“You’re drinking now.”

“I haven’t taken any medicine yet.”

“Maybe you won’t have to.”

She smiled sadly. “I will.” A beat. “It’s all I have.” Kaya snatched another piece of her crust and swallowed fully before explaining. “That’s why my sleep schedule, if you can even call it that, is so fucked up.”

He thought about it. “Excedrin has caffeine.”

“An insane amount.”

“It helps your migraines—”

“And keeps me up in return.” When he grew quiet, she offered. “Trust me. The insomnia is much better than the pain.”

“I’m sorry.”

She grimaced, eyes darting in either direction. “Why?”

He sighed and ran his hands all over his face. “That’s why you get so upset when I wake you up.”

“I wouldn’t say upset.”

“You threatened to slit my throat in my sleep.”

“Okay, maybe I was a little upset,” she confessed, and they shared a laugh before his tone grew serious again.

“I’ll be mindful of that.” Head tilted to the side, a sign she was still confused, he continued. “So that you can sleep.”

She smiled teasingly, abandoning the last bit of her food, and pushing her plate to the side. “Is that consideration I hear?”

“It is.”

The way he was looking at her, the lack of typical sarcasm in his tone, it was both welcoming and conflicting. Crawling across the floor, she moved his plate to the side and climbed into his lap.

Hands on his shoulders, she lowered her voice and whispered into his ear. “Well, I’m up right now.”

He made a sound and brought his hands to her hips. “You are.” Her eyes shut when his lips moved to her shoulder. “You should get some sleep.”

Immediately, she coiled back and glared. “Are you serious right now?” He laughed, which only upset her further as he stood up, her legs locking around his waist. “It’s been at least 8 hours.”

“You keeping a timer or something?”

“Look.” She waited for him to place her on the bed before she grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tugging so that he laid back on the mattress. She quickly climbed on top of him. “If there’s one thing I know about us, we are ideal intimate partners. Our sexual chemistry is astronomical.”

His eyes drank her in. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

His voice lowered. “Is that all you think we have?”

At that moment, Kaya realized a couple of things. This was wrong. She was suddenly very much uncomfortable. And this was a mistake. This was why she didn’t tell the truth. It meant putting yourself at risk for being vulnerable.

She was never good with that.

Clearing her throat, she climbed off him and flashed a crafty smile. “I’m gonna go shower.” She couldn’t handle seeing his face, so she turned around, purposely pretending she had to look around the room to search for her luggage.

“You should know I hate sleeping with blankets.” Kaya needed to redirect the conversation to another topic. This was becoming all too much for her.

He sat up and rolled his shoulders. “So, strip the bed? Got it.”

“Absolutely not. I could freeze.”

“You just said—”

Kaya stood by the door that led to the living room area and smiled sadly. “I’m a hot ass mess, Chris.” A beat. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

-------

We need to talk when you get a chance. Please?

No matter how many times she looked at the phone, a new incoming gray message never appeared. She waited and waited, even scrolling up only for it to bounce back with no change.

She missed Nia. She missed their banter. She missed making tik toks with her. And she especially missed the advice giving, of which she could desperately use right about now.

Something was happening between them. With her and Chris. Of which she didn’t know, nor did she understand. It drove her mad because it was a new experience, one where she didn’t feel as though she always had to walk on eggshells.

Being with Chris….

“God.” She ran her hand over her face. What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t with Chris. Not like that, anyway. This was a business transaction. They were both using each other for selfish purposes.

Maybe it was the sex. Nia always warned her that behind every sexual encounter, there was at least some trace of feelings.

Kaya always thought that was bullshit.

Now….now she wasn’t so sure.

“You alright?”

She looked up from her chair and saw Chris walk in. She chewed the inside of her cheek as he sat down in the chair opposite of her. Kaya took in his wardrobe, so casual and laid back. She’d never seen him in denim before, but he looked good.

She didn’t even know the photographer, but she was a fan. A billionaire in Levi’s? Iconic.

“How does it feel to dress like us common folk?”

“Poor.” He winked as she glared. “We should be done soon.”

“Don’t rush on my part. The snacks here are delicious, and who knows, I could play dress up.” She wiggled her brows and straightened when there was a knock on the door.

“Sorry to interrupt,” the photographer spoke up and offered Kaya a friendly smile. “You’re Kaya, yes? I’m Elena.”

Kaya was surprised by the fact that this woman was both speaking to her and actually knew who she was, so her response was delayed. “Yes. It’s nice to meet you.” She offered her hand and noticed the woman was staring at her. Welp. It was nice while it lasted. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized but continued to stare. “It’s just...has anyone ever told you that you have amazing bone structure?”

Kaya sputtered. “Not unless they wanted something from me.”

Elena smiled. “Well, I suppose this is no different.”

“I don’t understand,” Kaya asked, looking over at Chris. He was surprisingly quiet.

“How about we get some shots of the both of you?”

She immediately protested. “Oh no. I—I’m just here for moral support.”

“You did say you wanted to play dress up,” he reminded. She glared. Of course he would choose to speak up now.

She turned her narrowed eyes on him and harshly whispered. “Not while being photographed.”

He placed his hand over hers. “Relax.”

Kaya remembered that they weren’t alone and therefore, had to keep up the act. Even if it was starting to feel less and less like acting.

“I’m used to people watching, not photographing.” He lifted a brow. Laughing, she slapped his chest and took a deep breath. She looked over at Elena. “Will I at least get to see them before you pick which ones to use? If any.”

“Of course.”

Kaya caved. “Fine.” He kissed the top of her head and mouthed a thank you. “You owe me.”

“Sure, I do,” he dismissed, slapping her on her ass as Elena grabbed her to drag her away.

“Time to make magic.”

-----

It was a bad idea, one of many that had occurred, Kaya realized.

When she joked about wanting to play dress—up, she didn’t think that it would actually happen. She didn’t think that she’d become involved in his shoot. Kaya especially didn’t expect to have as much….fun as she did.

And she hated that, too. The fact that she managed to smile and laugh more in one setting than she had in, hell, longer than she could remember. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all.

She really, really didn’t like the way Chris looked at her every time she walked onto set in a new look, and there were a couple of them. The way he focused on her, eyes taking in every bit of her form, all the way down from her shoes up to her hair. Like he didn’t want to look away. Like he couldn’t look away. She despised the way he held her when they were photographed together, often being the reason for her smile or laughter with his comments that he whispered into her ear, sneaking in a kiss against her temple or holding her against him.

It was all so domestic and sweet, and it made no sense.

He was starting to make no sense.

And she especially didn’t understand why she was putting off leaving the bathroom, having sat on the toilet for at least 15 minutes.

As if on cue, two loud knocks on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“I’m coming, damnit.”

“That’s what you said last time. Come on, Kaya.” She was both surprised and annoyed that it was Chris. She expected it to be members of the glam team that he’d hired to help her prepare for the GQ function he was invited to, and of course, she was forced to accompany him. Turns out he wasn’t just chosen for the cover. He was man of the year. “We’re going to be late.”

“Maybe you should just leave me behind,” she muttered.

“Maybe I can just kick this damn door down,” he countered.

“Then you’ll have to pay for the damages.”

“Then I’ll buy the damn hotel,” he shot back testily. “I’m not going to ask you again, Kaya.”

She scowled and rolled her neck. Kaya knew he was being serious. The bastard could buy his way out of anything.

If only….

Blowing out a deep breath, she swallowed and stood, holding up her dress. It was undoubtedly beautiful, gold, a slit in the middle of her chest and on her left leg exposing more skin than she would have thought appropriate. Her curls were styled in a fancy updo, and her makeup was equally as bold as her dress, finalized with a red lip. She knew that she looked good, and that’s what scared her.

Chris had been looking at her like that all day, and she couldn’t keep handling it.

If she could even consider it handling. Managing was perhaps a better term. Poorly managing was the perfect term.

Kaya ripped open the door and plastered on a fake smile. “Happy?”

And there it was, his eyes widened and softened as he gave her a onceover. “And don’t tell me I look beautiful, cause’ I already know it.”

Kaya figured if she said it for him, she wouldn’t have to deal with the weird and uncomfortable knotting in her stomach that she experienced every time he complimented her.

And it worked, he said nothing, only helping to hold up her dress as they walked to the SUV that would escort them. In the car, she was also pleasantly surprised that he didn’t attempt to make small talk with her during the drive. She was certain, however, that it was because he took at least three different work calls during that time.

She made drafted Tik Toks in the meantime.

When they finally arrived, Kaya nearly ran out of the car right then and there.

“Is that a red carpet?” Her mouth dropped. “What the hell? You said nothing about having to walk a damn carpet that is red.”

He chuckled. Kaya realized his hand was on the exposed portion of her thigh. “Stay close to me, and I’ll take care of you. You’ll be fine.”

Kaya was used to having eyes on her, but that didn’t mean she liked it, especially when it didn’t involve money being thrown her way. “I don’t have to say anything, do I?”

He squeezed her thigh. “You’ll most likely receive compliments.”

“I can handle that,” she spoke more to herself than him. “Just long as no one asks if I prefer cats over dogs or whatever shit they ask.”

He laughed quietly and looked at her. “You ready?”

No. “Yes.”

Chris climbed out the car first so that he could help her out of the vehicle, and as soon as she stepped out, she cursed to herself. There were so many damn people. People taking photographs. People being photographed. People helping both the people the photographed and the photographers. And then there was her. She felt so out of place.

If he wasn’t already holding her hand, she would have grabbed for his.

Kaya used her left hand to hold up her dress, while making sure that she stayed close to Chris who led the way, smiling for the camera while sparing her glances every so often to assess her level of comfort.

Kaya played along, evoking a smile as she posed with him for a few photos. That’s when it started again. Like the photoshoot from a few hours ago, she found herself feeling less forced and more comfortable. Like, it was natural.

Like it was real.

Kaya was eventually allowed to stand to the side as he gave a few interviews, some in English, most in Italian. She’d meant to ask him earlier when the hell he learned to speak so many languages. This was the third she’d learned of. She had a feeling at least one or two journalists asked about her, because he would look in her direction and shoot a wink or something of the sort.

Her smile was a natural reaction.

The process was less daunting than she anticipated, not that she’d ever admit that to him. It was once they moved inside that Kaya realized they’d yet to reach the hard part. That hardest part was “socializing” with the guests, many of which were white, spicy white at best. She spotted some minorities but found that they were just as distant as the rest.

The vim of the event was welcoming, however, which confused Kaya to some extent. She simplified it down to the event was nice, the people were trash, and Chris was both an ass and a gentleman for forcing her to come.

He’d introduced her to a few people, most of which spoke poor English. That, she could acknowledge, was nice. Not the strained English, but his obvious concern for her wellbeing. He was going out of his way to make her feel as comfortable as he could.

It was also irritating because it resurfaced those damn knots.

They were seated at a table, and he was texting someone when she leaned over and tugged on his sleeve. Kaya also took a moment to appreciate how nice he looked. The man was something sinful in a suit. “I think I know him.”

He looked up, immediately locking his phone. “Who?”

She gestured with her chin. “The guy over there talking to the girl with the green dress. But don’t look at them.”

His eyes lifted to the ceiling. Right before he proceeded to look right in that direction.

She laughed despite her irritation. “What did I literally just fucking say?”

“I’ll never understand why people want to do something without actually doing it. I don’t have the time.” She shook her head. He was so impatient. “And how do you know him?”

She lifted a brow. He asked with a newfound sense of urgency. If she didn’t know any better, she would have guessed it came from a place of jealousy.

Kaya studied the stranger across the room again when her eyes widened. “I know. He’s that actor from that porn movie we watched.”

“We don’t watch porn, Kaya. We make it.”

“Stop it.” She leaned closer, hating that her smile contrasted the frustration she felt with how vulgar he was speaking in such a public setting. “And you know the movie where they…..ya know, basically the whole time, and he kept asking in that godawful delivery, are you lost, baby girl?”

Her equally terrible impression caused him to laugh quietly. “I think that is him.”

“I told you.” She spoke a little louder than she would have liked due to her excitement at being correct. “He looks better on screen.”

Chris glanced over at him once more and scoffed. “He’s scrawny.”

“Sir, not everyone is like you and built like a fucking tanker.”

“Not my problem.”

Kaya rolled her eyes and gathered her dress. “I’ll be back. I have to use the restroom.” She stood and leaned over, arms around him from behind as she whispered. “Try not to be too much of a dick while I’m gone, okay?”

He turned to look at her. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Turns out finding the bathroom was a harder task than she’d anticipated. She’d asked one of the servers while maneuvering through the crowd, but it also turned out that Kaya wasn’t the best with directions. She did find it, though.

Eventually.

Kaya was navigating her way back to Chris when she was stopped by a man in a suit along the way.

He was of average height, average build, and average attraction. She was immediately annoyed.

“Hi,” Kaya greeted with a tight smile.

“Hello,” he smiled. Add in average dental health. “You are very beautiful.”

Kaya realized he didn’t have an accent, either. American, most likely. “Uhh, thank you.” When she moved to walk past him, he blocked her. “Sir, I really should—”

“How much?”

Her eyes darted to either side. “I’m sorry?”

“Money is no issue, as I’m sure you can see, and I’d like you for a week.” He stepped closer, bringing his hand to trail it down her arm. “Longer even, perhaps.”

“Sir, I have no idea what you are talking about, and please do not touch me.” It wasn’t so much of a request as much as it was a demand. “Now, I really should—”

“You’re not American.” Kaya continued to be confused as hell when his eyes lit up with excitement. “That explains why you look so exotic.” Confusion easily morphed into rage as she finally caught on to what he was referring to. “I bet you feel di—”

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed, pulling away from him. “I am not a fucking prostitute—”

“Call it what you want, girl,” he dismissed. “I don’t judge. I can pay you well.”

“Go fuck yourself, you sick son of a bitch,” she cursed, turning away when he grabbed her arm. “Let me go.”

“You think that you’re special?” He’d taken on another tone, one that conveyed his anger at being rejected. “The fuckin’ stall I just pissed in is worth more than you, bitch.”

Kaya refused to allow him to see her cry, but she’d be lying if she tried to say that his words didn’t sting, especially his next verbal attack.

“You can slap on that expensive dress and let Hemsworth make you feel special, but I know, you know, and everyone else in this fucking place knows that you’re nothing but a cheap, illegal whore—” Panic arose when he moved his hand to the exposed skin of her thigh, squeezing tightly. His hand started to inch upward when Kaya acted on instinct. He cursed aloud while Kaya gasped as she realized that she’d silenced him with her fist dead square in the middle of his face. “You fucking bitch!”

Shock and fear took over as Kaya gathered the bottom of her dress and ran, as much as the gown and her heels would allow, that is. Certain he was going to chase her for retribution, she consistently looked back, unaware that she needed to be just as aware of what was in front as what was behind.

She shrieked and immediately went to pull herself away from the strong body she’d collided with.

“Kaya.” Refocusing her attention, she looked up and realized it was Chris. “Where the hell—” He stopped amid his statement when he took in her appearance and realized that she was crying. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Kaya looked down, speaking more to herself than him. Not that it mattered. He was judging based on what he saw instead of what she said. He’d learned by now that her words rarely matched the truth. “Let’s just go—”

“Kaya,” he repeated, softer. Chris brought his hands to her face, forcing her to meet his gaze as he asked again, slowly. “What happened?” A strike of anger flashed in his blue eyes. “Did someone touch you?”

“No,” she answered, quickly. Too quickly.

The anger escalated exponentially. “Who? Tell me.”

Kaya could have slapped herself. She wasn’t helping the situation. She was making it worse. “It doesn’t matter, I hit him, and now he’s probably going to sue you—”

“Where is he?” Chris was looking behind her, eyes flaming. He was livid. “Show me. Now.”

“No.” Speaking was becoming an increasing challenge, especially against the backdrop of overwhelming emotions. Everything she’d been feeling, preventing herself from feeling, and afraid to acknowledge was gradually bubbling to the surface. “Just—just let me go back to the hotel. I’m messing everything up for you.”

He calmed for a second, realizing what was happening. Chris was unfamiliar with this side of her. Unfamiliar with seeing her so vulnerable. “What?”

Kaya suddenly realized that her eyes were burning again. She was fighting back tears. “I’ll give you back the money for the day, it’s—it’s fine, you’re better off without me here—”

Her offer to pay him incensed Chris. This wasn’t about the money. It stopped being about the money a long time ago, even if he hadn’t realized that until today. “I don’t want the fucking money, Kaya.”

She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Don’t—don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Please,” she plead. Control over her emotions was a battle she’d all but lost at that point. Her words, she was certain, would be next.

He raised his voice. Chris sensed, saw that she was uncomfortable, but he also realized that this was what she needed. A push. “Why?”

“Because this all about the fucking money, okay?” She matched his volume, accepting that her tears were going to fall no matter how much she willed them not to. She’d lost the war. “It has to be about the money, because if it isn’t then that means you care, and—you can’t, alright?”

He studied her, wondering if she realized this conversation was difficult for him too. He brought his hand to the side of her face. “Why is it so impossible for you to accept that I fucking care about you?”

She looked up, glistening eyes and wavering voice. “Because then I have to admit that I care about you too, and I can’t do that.” She spoke to herself, as if vocalizing it would cement a decision that was already out of her hands. “I won’t do it.”

“Why?” He pressed. Chris brought his other hand to the other side of her face, cupping it and moving closer. He gave zero fucks about where they were and who could have possibly overheard. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”

She pulled herself away from him, back colliding against the wall as she blurted, “because all I do is hurt the people I care about alright?” In that moment, Kaya realized she was so far gone that the point of return was no longer an option. Her mouth trembled as she struggled to form her next sentence, listing off names with her fingers as props. “Mami, Papi, Nia. Hell, my own brother is dead because of me.” A beat. “I’ll only hurt you, and I care about you too much to do that.”

“Kaya—"

A newfound heaviness started to weigh upon her chest, another blockade to her speech. “I’m standing here in a dress I can’t afford, a building I can’t even fucking pronounce, and with a man I don’t deserve.”

His voice lowered. “Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, I don’t deserve you?” Kaya looked at him, her eyes softening before she squinted, her face scrunching up in obvious pain.

He took note of this. As invested as Chris was in finally getting Kaya to open up about how she really felt, her wellbeing would always be his primary concern.

“Kaya.” He placed his hands on her waist, steadying her. “What’s wrong?”

“I—” She blinked several times, blinding lights obscuring her vision. “I—can’t—" Kaya felt the firmness of his chest, inhaled the scent of his cologne, and heard her name on his lips before everything faded to black.

-----

She awoke on her side, body clutched against a pillow, and a thin sheet covering half her body. Never one to take her time returning to her senses, she forced herself to sit up, eyes still scrunched from the sleep.

Looking down she realized she was dressed in only one of Chris’s dress shirts, her dress discarded.

Memory returned as Kaya replayed the events that transpired prior to her slumber. The photoshoot. The party. The asshole.

Chris.

“I don’t care. Tell them to send it in the mail or something.”

She recognized his voice traveling from the living room area, prompting her to swing her legs over the bed, her toes submerging into the soft carpet. She’d never been in such a fine hotel where the carpeting probably cost more than six months’ worth of rent on her one-bedroom apartment.

“Evans, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that right now. You can handle it. I don’t care.”

Kaya contemplated remaining where she was, eavesdropping without being detected. She quickly decided against it. She’d done enough.

Her feet carried her out of the room, and she stood in the doorway where she saw he was standing against the massive window that provided a breathtaking overview of the city.

Again, she considered leaving him be, but he either had exceptional peripheral vision or caught her reflection in the window because he spun around. Kaya’s eyebrows furrowed when she realized he was still dressed in his suit, with the expectation of the jacket and dress shirt which were both discarded, leaving the white undershirt.

Uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, more concern than that, she settled onto the sofa, pulling a decorative pillow to her chest as she crossed her legs.

“I have to go,” he spoke briefly before pulling the phone from his ear and hanging up.

Kaya swallowed. He’d yet to speak, so she took the opportunity to do so. “Still don’t believe me when I said I’m a hot mess?”

“What happened tonight, Kaya?”

“Which part?” She knew that playing coy wasn’t the best route, but she was forever stubborn and would fight until she had nothing left. “Where I ruined your evening, assaulted a millionaire, told you one of my deepest secrets, or fainted in your arms? There’s a lot.”

“All of it.”

She looked away and licked her lips. Kaya felt cornered, absolutely trapped. Emotionally. She’d always assumed being physically stuck would feel far more suffocating and frightening. She was wrong.

Kaya considered her options, though far and few in between. She could deflect. She was a master at that. She could redirect blame onto him. Call him out on even making her go on the trip, for not telling her ahead of time what to expect, maybe throw in a few insults. And lastly, the most frightening of them all, she could be honest.

That was the scariest of them all.

“I lied to you.” The words spilled out before she realized it, but Kaya accepted the fact that she was tired. There was only so much she could carry, and she’d reached her limits. “My—my parents aren’t dead. They still live in the same house in Parlier that I grew up in with Denes. He’s—he was my brother.” It felt strange talking about, verbalizing what she’d quietly struggled with for so many years. And yet, there was a peace that accompanied the release. “He was such a beautiful little boy, but….different. He didn’t talk much, life skills were….hard for him, and he had these fixations on certain things. He didn’t like change.”

“Kaya, you don’t—”

“When I was eleven, and he was eight, my parents found out they were pregnant. They’d been trying for so long….they were so happy.” She roughly wiped at her face to do away with the silent tears that fell. The crying, however, was inevitable. “One day, they had a checkup appointment, and the babysitter fell through, so they asked me to watch Denes.” She nodded slowly, reverting to the same rush of emotions she felt that day. “I was so….mad, because my friend had just gotten Guitar Hero, and I was supposed to walk down to her house so we could play it.” To that day, Kaya felt a strong surge of rage whenever she ran across a throwback picture or read an article referring to that game. It was a trigger.

“My parents promised that I could go when they returned, but I just couldn’t wait.” Her nose turned up with disgust, disgust directed 100% inward. “I just had to go play that stupid fucking game.”

“Denes loved birds. They were one of his fixations. They think—they think he saw one outside our living room window or something and walked outside to see if he could catch it because, of course, I forgot to lock the front door.” She stared off into space before closing her eyes. “I had just walked into my friend’s house when I heard someone scream like I’ve never heard a scream before.” Kaya tugged the pillow closer to her chest and lowered her head. “I ran back so fast because I thought—I thought I could help him. I thought I could save him.” Her voice cracked. “—But there was so much blood, and he was so hurt—he died in the middle of the street, bleeding, terrified, and it was all my fault.”

Chris closed his eyes and shook his head. “Kaya—”

“They never found the driver,” she added quietly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “The shock of it all……it was too much for my mom, and she miscarried.” Kaya laughed, but there wasn’t a trace of humor. “I spiraled after Denes passed. Everything bad and terrible I could get myself into, I did. I—I skipped class, I partied, I drank, I tried drugs.” She scoffed. “I lost my virginity when I was thirteen to some guy whose name I still don’t know because I was so drunk.” She leaned back into the sofa, staring at the intricate pattern of the rug. “I just—at the time, I thought if I did enough, I could make my parents hate me, because it’s what I deserved. But for everything I tried, they kept giving me chance after chance.”

“So, then I attempted suicide, twice, and I couldn’t even do that right.” She groaned and wiped at her eyes again. The cuffs of the shirt were nearly soaked. “I realized that God or the universe or whomever clearly wanted me to suffer and to live with my guilt, but in the midst of trying to punish myself, I failed to realize that all I’d done was cause my parents more pain.”

“Day of my high school graduation, I woke up at the crack of dawn to pack up my bags, told my parents that I was going out with some friends, but I’d be home by 7—and I haven’t seen or spoken with them since.”

She clapped and lifted her hands. “And there you have it. You’ve now seen me naked; you’ve seen me cry, and now you know that I’m a murderer—”

“You’re not a murderer, Kaya,” he was finally able to complete his sentence, still very much in shock over what she’d disclosed. “And what happened to your brother wasn’t your fault.”

Chris watched her demeanor soften, shifting from her previous facetious tone to a more somber tone. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You were a child.”

She shrugged sadly. “So was he.”

“That still doesn’t make it your fault.”

She turned away from where he sat across from her. She hadn’t even realized he’d moved from his initial position by the window. Untangling her legs, she moved the pillow to the side and stood in front of him. “Why are you so nice to me? You should be running for the hills.”

Chris brought his hands to her waist and pulled her in between his spread legs. “Why do you keep asking questions you already know the answers to?”

“Even after everything I’ve done?” She whispered, emotion betraying her for the umpteenth time that day. “You—you still—you still feel….like that about me?”

“You’re stubborn, impulsive, argumentative, flippant, and undoubtedly one of the most complicated women I’ve ever met.” He slowly stood up, never once breaking eye contact as he cupped her face, fingers brushing away the dampness of her flushed cheeks. “And yet, seeing you smile is the highlight of my day.”

She chuckled and nervously cleared her throat. “So, was today subpar? Like, medium light? Half-light? It all went downhill after 12pm.”

He shook his head and kissed her forehead. “You are, in fact, a hot mess.”

Her fingers grasped at his sleeves. “I really am sorry about ruining your evening.”

“You didn’t ruin my evening, Kaya.” He brought his hand to her hair, pushing back the tendrils that had fallen from her updo. “Thank you for opening to me. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“It’s a lot easier opening up my legs,” she muttered, watching as he closed his eyes. “I’m sorry—you’re right. It’s—it’s not easy, and I don’t like talking about….feelings.” Her eyes lifted as she chewed on her bottom lip. “But, I do have feelings for you.” She shut her eyes and licked her top lip. “And there’s something else I need to tell you.”

His gaze softened. “Anything.”

It was so simple, the opportunity was available, the setting was perfect. She’d already told him the hardest part, now all she had to do was tell him the rest. The problem though, was that what she’d shared hadn’t changed much. It only helped him to understand her better. It would potentially improve their relationship.

This would destroy it.

She cleared her throat again. “If you tell anyone I’m capable of crying, I will smother you in your sleep.”

He chuckled and kissed her temple. “It’s late. I’m going to shower.” He studied her. “Try not to get into any more trouble, yeah?”

She smiled softly. “I make no promises.”

He gave her side a gentle squeeze before yawning as he walked back into the bedroom. Finally alone, she fell back onto the sofa and hugged the pillow against her body. Kaya felt both disgust and frustration. If there was a perfect moment to tell him, that was it, and now it was gone.

She was running out of time

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TAGS: @islandvamp @toni9 @destinyg237 @tashawar @valkryienymph @letsshamelessqueen-m @missyperle @kpizzletrash @brittyevans @mani-lifes @amorestevens @periodtcevans @hello-therree @shegoesbyarose @lettytheletdown @yanniebunnie @iwrite4poc @nycoledon @fangurlingismyforte @babe-im-bi @amirra88 @cocoamoonmalfoy @goldenrosexx @liquorlaughslove @ljstraightnochaser @jurneesjourney @bestyums-ever84 @notacamelthatsmywife @champagnesugamama @cest-la69vie @yanniebunny5151 @goldenrosexx​

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[iwantutobehapppier]

Still Remains

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You had planned a great Friday, sometimes things don’t go as planned. Perhaps your boyfriend can help salvage the day? 

Warnings: 18+ Only, smut, fluffy so very soft, fingering and cursing

Word Count: 2,969 (hehehe 69)

A/N: Hey hey! Happy Third night of Chanukah I hope you all enjoy some soft Bucky for tonight’s Chanukah present. Huge shout out to @sagechanoafterdark​ for her amazing beta skills on this one. Was def out my comfort zone.

You had a perfect day planned.

It would involve a workday where you gave minimal effort after completing a rather taxing project for upper management under the deadline. Then, go to your favorite and the best-smelling shop for a signature bath bomb, a quick stop at the upscale corner store for some wine plus a premade meal as cooking was not on the agenda tonight. All of that was to be followed by something good and dramatic on your iPad coupled with a face mask while you soaked in the bath not having a care in the world.

Your boyfriend, the ever understanding James Buchanan Barnes, knew how important your much needed me time was. Agreeing to meet with you on Saturday for lunch, leaving Friday as ‘you time’.

That was the plan.

It was a good plan. The best plan you’d had in weeks after endless work and long nights.

But that plan fell apart before you finished brewing your morning cup of coffee.

Your boss returned from his morning meeting with devastating news. The project you'd been slaving over for the last 3 weeks needed to factor in new data he'd failed to previously provide. Not only that but your deadline was moved from next week to today by 4 pm. Making the excuse about upper management leaving by then.

Coffee hastily made you care less about the creamer you spilled on the counter. Rushing to your desk to boot up and start compiling the required information. By lunchtime, you had a tension headache, a stomach ache, and your lower back was throbbing.

Catching one of your coworkers as they went to the cafeteria. You begged them to pick you up something, feeling guilty about leaving your desk for even a second while such a critical project was due in such a short amount of time. You couldn't even consider stopping for something like lunch. Hell, you barely had any water, something Bucky would certainly give you hell about tomorrow.

Speaking of the man, you checked your phone spying a sweet good morning text you had missed followed a little while later by an inquiry about how your day was. Quickly, you sent a quick reply summarizing how it was not a good day then quickly put your phone away, focusing back on the task at hand.

One good thing was you had sent the newly finished project out by 3:45.

The problem that followed?

Your boss had left early dumping their work on your desk. Groaning as your hopes for an on-time escape were dashed, you paused for a break to get some water and check your phone. Replying to some friends you saw your boyfriend’s concerned text, feeling your chest warm.

‘Do you need me to do anything? I can help you relax a little more tonight instead of hanging out with Steve.’ He was a sweet and caring man. Even though most of the world feared him, you only saw the caring, attentive, and dashing lover.

You wouldn’t take up his time tonight though, you needed a solo night in and he deserved time with his best friend for how much you normally take up his time. Sending a quick dismissal reply, ‘No honey, I’ll make it work thank you for being so amazing’ you’re back to the grindstone.

Leaving the office by 6, you thought the shop for our bath bomb closed at 7, and with it raining the past hour the chances of making it there on time were slim but you would not be bested. You had the perfect night planned and salvaging it was a must.

Reaching the doors at 7:30, locked for the night. You couldn’t help the anguished cry you gave out, stomping your feet in the puddles outside the locked doors. Allowing yourself a small pity party, you square your shoulders and make your way to the corner store. Refusing to allow another piece of your perfect plan to be dashed away.

They were out of your favorite wine.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stood in the aisle frustration sweeping over you. Shoulders dropping you drag your feet to the fresh market area, finding a lone wilted sandwich remaining. Clearly, a massive rush of people had been just as desperate for the corner store’s fresh market food as you were. Or, your melodramatic brain supplied, the world was against you today.

Shaking that unhelpful thought away you quickly sent a venting text to your boyfriend. ‘I was too late for a bath bomb and the corner market is a bust. :(’ Your mind coming up with a quick contingency plan as you typed. You knew you had some wine in the apartment that you barely liked but it would do in comparison to what the store had. If you recall correctly you think you had some papaya scented bath rocks that could be an okay substitute.

Moving on to your newly formed Plan C, you made your way home. Arriving home you were soaking wet as the rain had never let up.

Clutching your broken umbrella, because why not?

Your feet drag you through the front entrance of your apartment building. You could feel the building pressure of tears behind your eyes but you wouldn’t let them fall. Nope, not until you are at least in the safety of your home. Sighing in recognition of the terribleness that was your day you go to check the mail and just as your turn to  the bulletin board your heart drops at the sign “Water Heater Out Until Sunday”

Fuck today.

Fuck your boss.

Fuck the rain.

Fuck your stupid super, who barely kept your apartment up to code.

Fuck the people who bought your wine and food.

Fuck today.

Sucking in a deep breath you turn and start the walk up the steps when your phone rings. You answer it without a second thought, trying to keep your mental state from cracking before getting into your apartment your only goal.

“Hey doll,” your boyfriend’s deep silky voice in your ear, “I wanted to see if your night got any better.”

You tried to tell him what happened, you really did but as the words formed you plopped down onto the stairs; then, became a crying and blubbering mess. Your sweet boyfriend only able to make out blips like “water heater, fuck my boss, lazy super, I just can’t anymore.”

As you kept trying to explain what was wrong through your uncontrollable and frustrating sobs, Bucky’s voice finally broke through, “Stay on the phone with me, doll,” he instructed. Hearing rustling on the other end, “I’m on my way.”

Not even thirty minutes later Bucky found you, sitting on the steps. No longer sobbing, but tears intermittently still falling down your cheeks and emotionally wrung out.

He called your name softly and you looked up at him. Tying your best to smile, but it was hard. Without another word, he picked you up off the stairs and carried you to his car bridal style. Turning on the heater after starting the car, he begins to make his way back to his place respecting your silence.

“Bucky,” you whisper out as you both sit at a red light. He turns his head, those cerulean blue eyes shining with adoration and a bit of concern. “Thank you,” is all you can get out but god you want to say more the words stuck in your throat.

Knowing you were still decompressing his hand squeezes your thigh. “Anything for you, doll.” He winks before facing the road once more as the light turns green.

Pulling into the garage of his house, he exits the car lightly jogging to your side and opening the door. You go to grab your bags before he can get you. “Leave ‘em, I'll get them later.” Heeding his advice you let him pick you up once more leaving your stuff in the car.

Carrying you through the house into the master bath he gently set you on the edge of the tub. Holding up one finger he turns around looking under the sink before pulling out your favorite bath bomb. The exact one you threw a fantastic pity party about earlier tonight.

Your jaw goes slack before you rapidly question your boyfriend, “where did you get this? When did you get this?!"

“I stocked up last time we took a bath together,” he explained. Leaning over you Bucky swept the hair off your forehead before kissing you there. “I wanted to make sure you could be comfortable here.”

“Oh,” is all you can get out, floored by such a sweet and selfless gesture.

“Your shampoo is still in the shower,” he said, gesturing to the stand-up shower to the left of his free-standing soaking tub. “I know you like rinsing off before a bath.”

“I don’t wanna be in a soup of my own filth,” you said with a pout, justifying your pre-shower bath ritual. He chuckles at you leaning down farther before capturing your lips. Slipping his tongue into your mouth, trailing over the roof of your mouth, cupping your chin with his cool metal hand. Bucky hums into your mouth when your tongue connects with his.  

The kiss feels endless, the gentle caress of his tongue on yours exploring your mouth a much-needed comfort after this horrible day. When he pulls away your mouth remains slightly open, eyes closed a soft whine coming out at the loss.  When he caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckles you open your eyes.

“Go on,” he nods his head to the shower, “relax and enjoy your bath.”

Watching his retreating figure you lick your lips eyeing his back end. Shaking your head out of your dirty thoughts you strip down to shower.

Once sufficiently clean, you wrap your hair in one of the microfibers wraps you’d left last time. Realizing you’d actually been leaving a lot more here and Bucky seemed to by buying stuff you normally kept at your place. Eyeing the double sink counter, you notice some of your creams and cleansing products there. Fairly certain you hadn’t purchased some of them twice due to cost alone.

Smiling at all the self-care items he had clearly bought just for you, your fingers trail along the marble countertop until you reach your bath bomb. Grabbing the half pink and half purple ball,  you make your way to the giant tub. Slipping in you set the bath bomb onto the window sill beside you.

Setting the water to the perfect warm temperature, you push the stopper down and sit back, resting your head on the tub rim as the tub fills. Once it hits the right level you turn the tap off and drop the bath bomb in, enjoying the scents of Jasmine and Ylang Yalng permeate the air as the tub water begins to turn a dusky pink.

A few minutes later Bucky walks in, holding a bottle of your favorite Rose Gold Rosé, a sparkling wine glass, and a clear package of food. Setting it all on the counter he turns to you and smiles at the sight of your already relaxed body.

Looking up at him a soft smile pulls on your lips. “I noticed you bought some of my products for here,” you comment.

“Is that a problem,” he inquires, rather sure it’s not but he wants to make sure he’s not crossing a line.

“N-no,” you stutter briefly, worried you might offend him for such a kind gesture. “No, I just didn’t know you did that.”

Smiling he sinks to his knees next to you outside the tub, folding his arms over the lip, “Well, didn’t wanna make a big deal of it.”

You nod, but still curious, “Why though?”

“So you’ll stay here more often,” he admits with a shrug. Bucky felt that the tactic was purely selfish on his part, but if all your things were here why would you need to go back to your place? He’d use tonight to show you that you can have your own space even when living with him.

“You like me being here?” Bucky wants to laugh at your doubt but doesn’t, knowing your nerves are rather frazzles so any sass from him could be misconstrued.

“Of course,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I always want you here.”

“Wh-what?” you gasp sitting upright in the tub so fast the water sloshing on the sides, trying to put together exactly what he is saying.

“This is a conversation later,” he cuts off with a smile. Wanting to stop your brain from the tailspin it was definitely heading towards. “I just wanna help my baby relax,” he says, cupping your cheek with his flesh hand.

You nuzzle into his hand with a contented sigh, “Oh, alright.”

His hand resting on your cheek slips down under the water, tweaking both your nipples pulling an involuntary gasp from you.

“Yeah,” his voice a whisper. Fingers trailing down your stomach to cup your heat, slipping between your slit. “You gonna let me help you relax after such a bad day?” You nod your head, mouth open in a muted moan panting with each stroke against you.

Bucky takes advantage of your open mouth, leaning in for a kiss with his tongue taking residence in your mouth. His fingers capture your clit gently squeezing before rubbing tight circles. Your eyes slipped closed at the growing pleasure.

You whimper into his mouth as he quickens his pace. Dipping your head back as he hits a good rhythm and pressure, making your toes curl but his other hand grips you by the back of your neck keeping your lips pressed tightly against his.

Two fingers dip inside you, slowly pushing in and out curling upwards, his palm rubbing against your clit in tandem with his fingers. When he hits that one special spot you try to slouch down into the water but his hand on your neck keeps you in place.

Your hands grip the lip of the tub, legs moving underneath the water and making soft waves that splash against the sides of the tub. Whimpers and moans pour from your mouth into his, eager to consume them.

Bucky tilts his head, making your teeth clash, ramping him up more. He’s moving faster now keying you quickly up but it’s not enough, he knows you need direct stimulation. Pulling his fingers back out of your heat, he rubs your clit in quick concise circles.

Your eyes pop open catching his intense stare, knowing he’d been watching you all along. Bucky was observant and always intense, picking up on every brow tick, nostril flare, and lip twitch. Almost studying you and picking you apart for his and your pleasure. It’s a goal for him, to make you feel all the emotions you make him feel, giving you the physical pleasure you bring to him.

The intensity of it all was too much.

His fingers keep their tempo, applying a little more pressure and it’s enough. Your legs shake and spasm making the water at the surface choppy and slosh in the tub. He released your mouth to hear your cry out in ecstasy, knuckles turning white as they held the edge of the tub.

“That’s my good girl,” his voice rumbles out.

Removing his hand from the dark pink water, at the same time his metal hand releases your neck. You look up at him panting, dazed in the euphoria of your orgasm as he stands. Bucky turns around, uncorking the wine with a pop and pouring you a glass. Looking around he frowns briefly, walking to the closet and returning with a brand new large bath tray, similar to the one you have at home. He sets it over the tub in front of you and places the bottle and full glass on the tray along with the cheese, crackers, and fruit pack.

He cups your chin pulling your slightly dazed eyes to him, he leans down pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Now you enjoy the wine and eat a little bit of food for me. I’ll be back to check on you later.”

“Uh-huh,” is all you can get out. Bucky smirks with pride at your ravaged state as he leaves you alone in the bathroom with one last look.

After a good two-hour soak where you ended up emptying the tub a little before refilling with warm water halfway through, you finally felt relaxed enough and left the bathroom. Wrapping yourself in a plush white towel you slowly unwrap your now almost dry hair.

Padding into Bucky’s room you smile at the blue henley he left laying on the bed for you. Lifting it up you notice something is missing.

“Bucky?” you call out in confusion, brows furrowed as you look over the bed.

“Yeah, doll,” he replied, walking towards the bedroom, turning off lights as he made his way in.

“Do you have any of my underwear here?”

He starts pulling his sweats off watching you search for the missing item, “Yeah, I have a few.” He admits from behind you. You jump and playfully swat him behind you, a soft chuckle rumbles from him when he spins you around to face him.

“Hmm,” your lips turned up in a smile. Wondering why he didn’t provide you any and just with his shirt. You wrap your arms around his neck pressing your foreheads together. “I’m going to need a pair.”

He tugs at your towel smirking when it falls to the floor. His eyes trailing down your exposed body and back up to your face.

“No,” he gives you a pointed stare pulling you tight against him, “you don’t.”

[sierraraeck]

The Jailbird and the Mouse

Spencer x Fem!OC (Aundreya)

Masterlist

Summary: When Aundreya shows up to consult on a case, Spencer seems less than pleased to see her, but his actions tell a different story. Bonus chapter!

Category: Smut. Hate fuck. Apparently I’m incapable of writing a single thing without some angst, so we’ve got a sprinkle of that in there at the end, too.

Warnings: Cussing. Choking. Nicknames. Degradation. Cuffs are used. Unprotected penetration, female masturbating, oral (male receiving), fingering. Semi-public at the beginning.

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Okay so this is supposed to take place during How to Lose Friends when they are both in their fresh, post-prison forms and are beyond pissed at each other, but you don't have to have read that chapter or the series to understand this. Also, shoutout to @writing-in-april for looking this piece over and helping me make some edits!

Things to Know: All you really have to know is that Aundreya was a criminal who’d already been to and broken out of prison, joined the BAU, Spencer and her had a previous relationship, Aundreya got Spencer sent to prison, broke him out, then took the fall for something Spencer was being accused of that she didn’t do, getting herself sent to prison again.

I’d been called back to help the BAU solve a case. Fascinating how when it was convenient for them, I held some value. But, after that I was just easy to throw in a jail cell to be forgotten about.

I didn’t want to be there, but unfortunately I didn’t have a choice. So, I closed my eyes, and took a long, deep breath before forcing the door open. I had barely entered the room, barely had made eye contact with Hotch standing opposite me, before both my shoulder blades were shoved against the wall behind me, with long fingers wrapping around my throat.

“What is she doing here?” the hiss in Reid’s voice sounded exactly how I’d imagined it in my head preparing for this encounter. He looked almost as bad as me. His curls were going in a million directions, and I could only imagine the amount of times he’d run his hands through them, probably due to stress. His eyes were blood-shot, slightly puffy, and the dark bags underneath seemed more defined. The only thing that contrasted all of that, and let me know his head was still in it, was the darkness he now held in his eyes. There was nothing lighthearted or soft about them anymore, at least, not for the moment and certainly not for me. Plus, there was a red-hot rage I could see boiling at the surface. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror, a warped version of myself being reflected back to me. I’d seen the same fury and darkness in my eyes every morning that was in his now, and the irritation that radiated off him matched my own. Really, the only difference between Spencer and I, was he still had his gun and badge and I didn’t.

“I was invited to help consult,” I snapped through my somewhat restricted breath. “So you better get the fuck off me.”

He gave my throat one last tight squeeze before stepping back, his intense gaze never leaving me. I met his gaze with a wicked smile while brushing my fingers over where the ghost of his hand used to be. I wanted him to see that he didn’t affect me. Angry or not, he held no power in our dynamic anymore.

“Chambers, good to see you,” Derek mocked, giving me a side eye laced with suspicion.

“Can’t say I feel the same,” I deadpanned, then turning on Hotch. “So, why am I here?”

“We have reason to believe that a rogue gang member is kidnapping and killing ex-military if they refuse to join,” Hotch explained with seemingly no emotion, as if he was unaffected by my presence.

“Cool,” I deadpanned again before asking, “So why do you need me?”

“We wanted to know if you know anything or have heard anything-” Derek started.

“Heard anything?” I cut him off with a scoff, “You mean besides the constant clanging of metal bars when I’m not left in complete silence by myself? No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Can you find them?” Spencer asked as if it would be a difficult task for me.

“So you do want my help,” I clarified.

“I want your skills.”

I let out a disgusted chuckle in response to his quip. Venom dripped from my words as I voiced my thoughts from only moments before stepping into the room. “Oh, I get it. You only want me around when it's convenient for you. Otherwise you just wanna give up on me and let me rot in a cell.”

“What was I supposed to do!”

“What were you supposed to do?” I asked in disbelief, eyes wide. “What were you supposed to do?” I mumbled to myself again in a mocking tone, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on the back of the empty chair in front of me I assumed had held Spencer at one point, and leaned in toward him. He’d retreated behind the table since releasing me, and I quietly snarled towards him, “I don’t know, but sitting there on your tiny, plushy ass, wasn’t it. I’m leaving.”

Spencer was back over to me in a flash, slamming his hand on the door before I could even reach for the handle. Someone got better reflexes. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We have a suspect list that we want you to review.” Hotch caught me before I pushed Spencer out of my way.

“Fine. Make it quick.” I looked over the list Hotch gave me that contained about 30 men, none of which rang any bells. “This was a waste of time.”

“Hold on, guys,” Garcia trotted in, “I just found something.” She was in such a rush that she initially didn’t see me, bee-lining it straight for Hotch. Handing the iPad over to him, her eyes lifted to take in the rest of the room. That’s when she noticed me. Her eyes grew to the size of beach balls, and her perfectly done lips hung open. I tried not to feel too hurt, knowing that my presence would come as a shock to her, but it still stung seeing her at a loss for words, possibly even scared. She’d really been the only person who still had any hope left for me, and I was starting to wonder if that was true anymore.

My voice softened as I greeted, “Hey, Penelope.”

She struggled for words, a few ‘uhs’ and ‘ums’ headed my direction, ultimately being saved by Hotch. “Dave, you’re with me. Prentiss, Morgan, I want you to go to the ME, Garcia we’ll need you on call, and JJ, Lewis, I want you to go talk to this man.”

“What about me?” Spencer asked.

“You’re going to stay here and watch her,” Hotch commanded. I started laughing at Spencer’s visible discomfort. Spencer glared at me before opening his mouth to argue, but Hotch stopped him with a voice filled with authority, “I know you won’t be able to focus out there if you know she’s still here unattended. Let’s go.”

When everyone had left and the door shut behind them, I sang, “Well if it isn’t Doctor Reid drawing the short end of the stick, yet again.”

“Just sit down and shut up,” he tried to order with confidence as he took his own advice, sitting as far away from me as possible. Not once had he looked me in the eyes since I’d initially walked in and he had attacked me. Sure, his eyes were on me, but they never connected with mine.

“Is that a demand, doctor?” I challenged him.

“No, but it could be. I just don’t want to be the one responsible for letting you get away.” He shrugged in his chair, resting the ankle of his leg on the knee of the other.

“So you’re just gonna trust me to do what you ask?” I questioned. Throughout the entire time I’d known Spencer, he’d never gotten super riled up over something, but this was a whole different Spencer, one that I didn’t recognize or know . He was more on edge, confident, and clearly willing to wrap his hand around my throat with no hesitation. A type of Spencer I was more than happy to get to know. And let’s face it, I’d been in prison for 15 months. There wasn’t a ton of action going on in there that I wanted to get involved with. I just wanted to see how far I could push him before he snapped. “You don’t trust me, and you know you can’t. I put you in prison, just because I could,” I shrugged, contradicting what I’d insinuated earlier for my own entertainment, “and you think that I won’t just walk away from you when given the chance?”

“You’ve had the chance. For the past three minutes and forty-six seconds you could have left and you didn’t. What’s keeping you here?” he smugly fired back. Oh yeah, he’s definitely going to be fun to mess with.

“What’s keeping you here?” I copied, “Why’d Hotch bench you again? Because you can’t focus when I’m around?”

“No one can focus with you around!” he huffed hotly.

“Not well, but they certainly can do better than what you’re doing right now,” I patronized, “What is it about me that makes you all so nervous, huh? I’m just another criminal who happens to be a former co-worker. I thought you were used to working with those day in and day out.”

“Criminals or co-workers?”

“Either.”

“None of them are like you,” he bit.

“Oh I know,” I ran my tongue over my lips, “So I’ll ask again, what is it about me that makes me so different?”

He looked up at me. In contrast to the first time he locked eyes with me, his expression was stone cold. “You were a part of this team, and you betrayed us. You betrayed me. I don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid to believe you were actually helping us! I just want to know why you picked me. You were going to take one of us down, why’d you choose me?” I could see the gears spinning in his head, and was about to answer when he frustratedly added, “Was it because you thought I’m the weakest?”

That’s it. That’s what’s always made him tick. And he used the present tense. We were still an entire table length apart, so I started slowly sauntering toward him. I prodded, “Is that what you think? You believe you’re the weakest on the team? Or do you just think that’s what I thought?”

“We all have our roles,” he responded, but not nearly as confident as he had been before.

“That’s not an answer,” I pushed.

“You still haven’t answered me, either,” he growled, and I decided to let this one go. We didn’t need to fully delve into his insecurities, no matter how much I wanted to.

“It was similar to that. You were the most afraid of me, I could smell it in the air.” I closed my eyes and pretended to revel in the stench of fear. “But, I could’ve gotten any one of them if I wanted.”

Spencer scoffed at that, “I think you overestimate your abilities.”

“I don’t,” I quickly fired back, “I could’ve gotten any of them, and to be honest, I was going to go after Derek, or maybe Emily, but then you spoke up from the corner of the room and I knew it had to be you.”

“Why?”

“Why this, Aundreya, and why that, Aundreya? Is that the only question you can ask?”

“Is it the only question you can’t answer?”

I was about halfway to him now, and decided to give him a little false hope. “I picked you, not because of your intellect, or how the rest of the team coddles you, or how relationship starved you are. I picked you because I could see something in your eyes that was different, something dark. And once I heard your full back story, I realized just how similar the two of us are.”

“We are nothing alike,” he insisted.

“Really? Because had you made one different choice or one thing went just a little bit wrong, you could have ended up just like me, with no family and no one to give a shit about you or what you do, except for the cops who just wanted you locked up and controlled.” I was dangerously close to him now, his head tilted to look at me, but he didn’t cower away. He actually seemed to welcome it. Which reminded me of something, “After knowing all of that, my past and everything I was, you still agreed to let me on your team.”

“I was the last person to say yes to you joining,” he informed me. This was news to me, but I couldn’t even be sure if he was telling me the truth. “I didn’t think it was a good idea for you to be working with us, but I was outnumbered and outranked.”

“No, you caved to their wishes,” I twisted his words to suit my needs, “Like you caved to mine.” I slowly reached down to place a hand on his chest. He eyed it all the way until I made contact with him, and it was like flipping a switch. He grabbed my wrist and held it close as he pushed out of his chair, the wheels spinning it wildly back into the monitor. He reached for my other wrist, which I let him grab, and held me against the wall, arms pinned next to my head. I did everything I could to not smirk. And he’s still caving.

“I didn’t want you here. I resisted the idea of you being around us,” he spat.

“Like you’re resisting the idea of being around me right now?” I arched an eyebrow, scanning him from head to toe, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze linger on a few spots. He opened his mouth to say something, but he shut it again, locking his jaw. I could see his genius mind at work, trying to come up with some way out of the little mouse trap I’d set up for him. I watched his eyes trail down to my lips and neck, soaking it all in. When his eyes met mine again, I tried to reach for him, but he forcefully slammed my hands back, pinning me to the wall again. Though, I wanted him to touch me this time. He was taking too long to make a move for my liking, so I decided if I couldn’t use my arms, I might as well use my legs.

All of his weight was already leaning toward me, so it wasn’t difficult to wrap my right leg around his waist and bring him all the way to me. The moment that they were within inches of my face, I attacked his lips. I was almost disappointed by the fact that he didn’t seem surprised at all, as if he knew how impatient I was and knew that I would force the first move. But, I wasn’t disappointed for long.

Spencer’s whole body was pressed against mine as he quickly swiped his tongue across my bottom lip, looking for entrance. I granted it, but I wasn’t going to give him the complete dominance that he wanted over the kiss. Instead, our tongues slid over each other’s searching for more than the other was willing to give. It was hot and messy, and he released his grip on my wrists, moving them to apply the same amount of force to my jaw. With my hands free, I made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, ripping it open. I was expecting skin and sighed when I found yet another shirt. This man and his layers.

Spencer took advantage of me sighing, giving him more access to my mouth, which I wanted to be annoyed about, but couldn’t care to be. I decided to make better use of my hands, running them down the sides of his body as he wrapped his behind my back. He pulled away from me so abruptly when I tried to massage him through his slacks, he basically dropped me on the floor. It was like being left out in a cold winter storm, just barely out of arm's reach of warmth.

Spencer shook his head, eyes on the floor, as if that would clear his mind of what clouded it, which was me. But I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “There. You got what you wanted.”

I gaped at him before retorting, “We both know it wasn’t just me who got what I wanted. I’m sure you had a hard time pulling away.”

He glared at me as he rolled the chair back toward the desk and took a seat, “Not really. I have important work to do.”

I stood there staring at him trying to compose himself. His face was red and he tugged at his pants before crossing his leg over the other. I pressed my lips together, but still failed to contain the small laugh that escaped through my nose.

“Sure,” I mocked, “Especially since everyone else on the team is already doing that work for you.” He didn’t look up from whatever papers were on the table, trying in vain to ignore me, though I wasn’t ready to have his attention off me yet.

I shut the folder that he was in the middle of reading, not like he was actually reading it considering how long it was taking him to flip the page, and sat right on top of it. He was about to reach for it again, but retracted his hand at lightning speed when my legs got in the way. I flashed another mockingly sweet smile his way, but he looked out toward the window, right next to the wall I’d just come from. I swung my legs back and forth off the side of the table just a bit, careful not to completely kick Spencer in the shin, though I couldn’t help but let my toes accidentally tap him a few times. As with all of the other times I’d touched him, he moved out of the way, uncrossing his legs with a perfect foot-sized gap in between his knees. I rested my foot in that small gap on the chair, rolling his body closer to me. Then, for no other reason than wanting to feel him squirm underneath me, I plopped down on his lap, my legs straddling his. I pretty much had him locked in his seat.

“What are you doing?” he questioned, a look of complete indifference gracing his face, but I knew it was just a front.

“Just making sure you’re doing your job,” I replied, winking at him.

“And… how do you think this is helping me do my job?”

“I’m making sure you’re paying attention to me,” I whispered in his ear seductively, lacing my fingers together on the back of his neck, “Plus, I’m doing what you asked me to. How did you put it? Sit down and shut-”

Using his thumb and forefinger, he pinched my cheeks and brought my lips to his forcefully. The kiss was just as hungry as the last, teeth clashing and tongues furiously fighting. He moved his long fingers onto my hips with a bruising grip, which I had absentmindedly started grinding against his. He pulled away from me for a moment, and his harsh tone reminded me that this was nothing like the last time we’d been together, when we’d both been a bit more innocent. “You never did have any manners at work.”

I smirked, “I know. Imagine my manners at home.”

A low, almost inaudible groan came from Spencer’s throat at my suggestion, but he tried to cover it up by moving my hair out of the way and latching his lips onto the side of my neck. I gasped at the contact of his teeth pulling at my soft flesh, paired with the feeling of his growing bulge pressed against my core. His fingers gripped my hips harder and moved them faster, drawing a small whimper from my lips. I felt him smile as he trailed kisses down my neck to my collar bone, leaving a single bite mark there. I tried so hard to contain my high-pitched moan when he moved one of his hands from my waist to pinch one of my nipples through my shirt.

But I was supposed to be the clear-headed one, so I forced myself to not get too wrapped up in the feeling. If I wanted to get to my end goal, I was going to have to leave him wanting more, which unfortunately in turn meant leaving myself in the same condition.

My hips had gotten faster along with Spencer’s hands, but when I felt him start to buck his hips up against me, I knew that he was getting close and it had to end. Immediately, I stopped my movements and untangled myself from him, but not before dragging a finger up the column of his throat, sneering, “Too bad. I could’ve helped you, had you done anything to help me.”

I left that open for interpretation, either as a jab to his masculinity or to what started my rage in the first place: being left in prison. He didn’t ask for clarification either, clearly too bothered by being left on edge. He did, however, follow up with, “Help you? Why would I want to do that? You’re a terrible person.”

I grinned as if receiving a medal of honor, “That I am, Doctor.”

I moved the lay down on the couch while Spencer attempted to refocus on his work. I made a show of sighing a couple times and rolling around ‘to find a comfortable position’ on the couch, just to piss him off. I could tell it was working based on his clenched fists turning white, and the way his leg was jumping. He was resting his head in his hand, which almost perfectly shielded my face from his.

He still wasn’t turning the page, so I offered, “Can you flip the page by yourself, or do you need some help?”

He wasn’t given the opportunity to respond, because Hotch, followed by most of the team, came barreling through the door.

“Colby Ulton, 43 years old, has a long record and wasn’t home,” JJ announced, following Hotch. It’d been a while since I had to deal with their inhuman pace when it came to talking about unsubs and profiles, so most of the stuff they said next flew over my head.

I was way behind in the conversation, but none of that mattered when Hotch turned to me, “Colby Ulton. I want you on him.” He'd barely gotten the command out before I was reaching for the door handle.

“I don’t.” The words were hot and dry and coming from none other than Doctor Reid. I rolled my eyes. He moved to step in front of the door, blocking my passage out again, leaning casually with his back against it, arms crossed. Our faces were barely centimeters apart.

“Why not?” I asked in a mock-curious voice.

“I don’t trust you. Who’s to say you won’t just run off? Then we’d let a high-profile criminal walk free. Plus, we’re not even sure he’s the right man,” Spencer pointed out. I was going to point out how I had just made that same argument about me leaving, and he refuted it himself only to bring it back up now, but I didn’t get the chance.

“He’s the best we’ve got right now,” Derek countered. I could tell he sort of just wanted me out of the room, but Spencer’s motives appeared very different.

He never took his eyes off of mine as he recited, “We think it’s a rogue gang member who’s either left or been kicked out within the past year. Ulton’s been in prison, which could mean he’s gone rogue, or it could mean he’s joined a new gang, one that, as you probably know, wouldn’t allow this type of acting out. Either way, he hasn’t demonstrated gang affiliated behavior in almost three years. Not to mention he had his tattoo removed and is out of our age range. I don’t think putting her on, most likely, the wrong man’s trail is worth the risk of letting her walk free.”

The room was silent as we all waited for someone else to make the first move. I decided to be that person. “So what do you suggest they do with me, hm?” I questioned, walking my two fingers up his chest with each word. Then I leaned in and made it very clear, “Because I am not going back to prison.”

I bit his earlobe on the way back, and I saw the way his pupils dilated just slightly at the feeling, “I’ll watch her for the night.”

“What?” Derek and I said at the same time, but our facial expressions were very different.

“Yes,” he stated, more confidently now, “She has nothing to do right now, but we might need her later in the investigation, so sending her all the way back to prison doesn’t make sense.”

“And you'll make sure she doesn’t escape?” Derek questioned.

“She hasn’t so far, has she?” Spencer challenged. When he got unnerved looks from the rest of the team, he assured, shooting a small smirk my way, “Trust me, she won’t.” How cute. He thinks he can wrap his skinny little fingers around my neck and pull a moan from me once, and all the sudden he’s in control. He switched our position, pinning me up against the door, clasping the handcuffs back around my wrists in front of me. I was starting to think he had a thing for pushing people into walls. It was his turn to whisper in my ear, “And you won't want to.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

When we arrived back at his apartment, I took a moment to survey the room. It looked almost exactly as it had the last time I’d been there. Books piled up everywhere, papers strewn all over the desk, a little dark and dusty, maybe a bit more worn, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The only difference was that it no longer suited him as well anymore. He used to be this shy, studious, loner-type that didn’t really like people, and he had a certain innocence about him. There was nothing innocent about him anymore. He didn’t seem shy either, much more confident; still studious and a loner though. However, I bet he liked having at least one person over at all times, or not being home at all. It meant that he didn’t have to be alone with his own mind, and after being in solitude myself, and knowing that he’d been in there too, that feeling of complete silence, utter aloneness, was something we’d never want to experience again. We were honestly perfect for each other in that way.

The other thing I’d noticed, based on what I'd seen of him within the last few hours and what I knew prison could do to a person, I guessed he went off of instinct rather than intelligence more than he ever had in his life.

Spencer had to take the time to shrug off his satchel and kick off his shoes, neither of which I even had. All I had was myself and what I was wearing, which wasn’t much. At least I wasn’t in an orange jumpsuit anymore.

“Wow, you’ve really renovated the place,” I snickered. Spencer didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and brushed past me. I forced my wrists outward a couple times, making a clanking sound with the cuffs, asking, “You gonna take these off?”

He faced me with a smirk and shook his head slightly, “Don’t think so.” Pulling out a chair at the puny kitchen table, he sat down, and I felt like we were much in the same position we’d been in at the office. I was in his home turf, if I could even call it that, but I wasn’t just going to let him be in charge.

I decided to go straight for the jugular, “Why’d you bring me home, Spence?”

“This isn’t home, not for you,” he snapped.

I scoffed, “Doesn’t look like it is for you, either, but that doesn’t change the question.”

“I told you. I didn’t want to risk you running away.”

“You didn’t want to lose me?” I inquired. He could hear the way I was rephrasing it to change the narrative, not like I was wrong, but he successfully dodged it.

“I didn’t want to lose an asset over the wrong man, tipping the right one off, and potentially risking him going underground. I’m just trying to catch an unsub,” he shrugged.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” I shook my head in amusement.

“You don’t?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” I quickly answered.

“Then answer this,” Spencer squared his shoulders, now completely facing me, “Why didn’t you run the moment you got the chance?”

“I had three FBI personnel in the car with me, then a team of BAU agents surrounding me, and then was left alone in the same room as an agent who can shoot 100 on his test. I am many things, but I am not stupid nor am I suicidal.”

“How’d you know I shot 100?” Spencer followed up.

I smiled, “I know things.”

“How about all the chances you got when you were in prison? You’ve broken out plenty of times before, why not do it again?” He was leaning forward, and he seemed genuinely curious.

It was a good question, one that I actually hadn’t pre-thought the answer to. Frankly, I wasn’t expecting to even make it this far. “I was biding my time.”

“For..?”

“Leverage.” It was a simple word, but one that seemed to make a great impact. Spencer leaned back in his chair and contemplated my answer. It wasn’t a complete lie either, I just didn’t want to give away too many details.

Spencer finally whispered, “Against?”

I flashed him a wicked smile. “You.” His face contorted into something I couldn’t fully recognize, eyes narrowing. “You, Spencer. I’ve been waiting for you to make an error, a mistake. That was the one flaw in my plan, that while I picked the easiest to emotionally manipulate, I picked the hardest to mentally manipulate. And you don’t make very many mental mistakes, do you Spencer?” I asked, approaching him. I’m really hoping you’d like to cash one in right now, though. I could practically see the internal argument being fought inside Spencer’s head; one side telling him to give in, it wasn’t that bad, the other telling him to resist, that somehow, this would corrupt him further. I needed the former to win. “You wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the moment, would you? You wouldn’t crack, take what you want, what you need, what you deserve against your better judgement. Because you’re all brain, Spencer. All brain, and no heart.”

That’s what did it.

Spencer literally swept me off my feet, tossing me onto the couch like a rag doll. His hand returned to my throat as if it belonged there, and he pushed open my legs with his knees. My hands may have been cuffed, but they could still be useful. I moved them to start unbuttoning his shirt when he swatted them away. He spat, “I’m not heartless. Not like you.”

“No,” I agreed, “You’re worse. At least I can admit to what I am. You just hide behind a badge and gun.”

Spencer shoved two fingers in my mouth, probably trying to shut me up. I smirked, running my tongue up and down the long digits, making sure to give him a preview of what was to come if he’d let it. His other hand trailed down the side of my body until it reached the waistband of the pants I was wearing. Forcefully, he yanked them down, taking my panties with them. I knew I was already pooling, but of course he had to rub it in. Snarky, he mocked, “For someone who talks a big game, you’re already looking pretty weak.”

I silently cursed my body for finding him arousing, and was about to have to come up with a clever comment when I saw Spencer pause. He was charging straight into this, and then he just stopped. I tilted my head, “Worried you don’t have it in you?”

Spencer met my eyes, and cooly stated, “I’m not going to let you be my mistake.”

Dammit. When I felt him start to pull away, I knew I had to say something to get him to stay. I needed to turn this into an advantage in his eyes, not just mine. “Why? So you can let this rage build up inside of you, eat away at your every thought, until you snap? What then? You lash out during a case, which causes someone to die, either because of your incapabilities or at your hand? And what for? Because you’re still mad at me? I’m right here in front of you, Spencer! You’re never going to get a chance like this again, so just do something!” By the end, it was a plea, and one that was brutally answered.

Spencer pushed two of his fingers inside me, already moving at a quick pace. I let out a small yelp at the sensation which clearly pleased Spencer. I attempted to refocus on unbuttoning his shirt, which became increasingly difficult because of how he was curling his fingers to hit that spot just right. I barely finished, pushing his shirt away from his shoulders when he leaned away from me, taking both of his fingers with him. I was about to complain until I saw him dropping his shirt to the ground and unbuckling his belt, pushing his own pants and underwear out of the way in a similar fashion as he’d done to mine. He pumped his fist over his shaft a couple of times before lining himself up between my wide open legs. He teased my clit with the tip of his cock, and I could feel the precum beading there. I bit my lip as I looked up at him.

Spencer’s eyes were blown when he quietly demanded, “Say it.” He wants me to beg. I was okay with him thinking he was in charge for now, so I played into it by shaking my head. He slammed my cuffed wrists against the arm of the couch just above my head, bringing his face so close I could feel his lips brush mine as he repeated, “Say it.”

It was more forceful the second time, and something about his hot breath on my face and the feeling of his hips trying, and failing, to stay still against mine pulled a whimper all too genuine from my lips, “Punish me.”

At my words, he slammed his cock in my entrance, setting a merciless pace. With no time to adjust to his length, the heat burning between my legs got fiercer. The sounds of his hips hitting mine filled the room, both of us trying to control our moans, not wanting the other to know how much we were really enjoying it. My back arched off the couch, sending my fingers over the arm, brushing over thin objects on the small table there. A pen and paper clip.

I pressed my lips together to contain the grin that just about took over my face. Looking down at Spencer, who was way too busy biting marks into my skin, I could tell he hadn’t noticed the detrimental error I’d just realized he’d made. I made quick work of unclasping the cuffs from around my wrists, but left them on loosely just for show.

The coil in my stomach was getting tighter and tighter, and while I usually would have tried to control myself, I let the moans tear through my lungs. This caught Spencer’s attention, perring up at me with a twinkle in his eyes, one that told me he thought he had me. He mouthed into my neck, “This too much for you to handle, Jailbird?”

I scoffed at his pet name. Alright Doctor Reid, you’ve had your fun. Now let me show you how to really be in charge. “Not in the slightest, Mouse,” I quipped. Before he could think, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and put my hands on the back of his head. I flipped us off the side of the couch, landing on top of Spencer. With the wind knocked out of him, I quickly grabbed his wrist, clasping one of the cuffs around it, looping the chain behind the couch leg, then synching the other around his free wrist. I placed his head on the ground and leaned back, tracing patterns on his chest.

It took him a moment to realize what had just happened, but I saw the moment the light went off. “You filthy bitch.”

I chuckled, “It seems as though that genius memory of yours forgot that I’m a criminally sound escape artist.”

He was fuming, but contained himself long enough to ask, “What changed?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “Since last time? You had no problem letting me take control then.”

I simply stated with disgust, “I was soft then.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t still now?” Spencer challenged.

I laced my fingers with his as I pinned them to the ground, my turn to be the one looking down on him, faces only centimeters apart. We locked eyes as I explained, “You can see it too, I know you can. I wake up and see it in the mirror every day, and I see it in you too now. It’s in your eyes. That darkness. That feeling of destruction, of being broken, of being a monster. It’s there. I can see it like it’s my own.”

I expected him to snap at me. To argue with a clever quip. But he didn’t. Spencer leaned up as far as he could and kissed me. Not in the angry, predatory-like way that we had earlier, but really kissed me. I was so taken aback by the gesture that I practically jumped off him after a few seconds. I hated myself for letting it happen for even that long.

I stormed away from him, hissing, “Don’t try to get my sympathy now that you’re the one chained like a dirty animal. I’m not gonna fall for it.”

I saw something quick flash across his face before it hardened again. I could feel his eyes following my every move as I walked away, so I decided to make a show of it. I swished my hips back and forth, and even bent all the way over to pick up our clothes for no reason, just so he could have a perfect view between my legs. I heard the rattle of the cuffs against the couch and smirked to myself.

Tossing the clothes as far away as possible, I reached under my shirt to unclasp my bra, slipping it out one of the arm holes. I spun it around my index finger a couple of times before letting it fly off in the direction of the rest of our clothes. Toying with the hem of my shirt, I rhythmically moved it around my body so that he could only see some exposed skin at a time. I slowly pulled it higher and higher until I removed the garment completely. Standing completely bare in front of him, looking down on his naked body, I’d never felt more in control.

Spencer was drilling holes into me as I got down on my knees, crawling toward him. Again, his hands shot forward only to be stopped by the metal. I tutted, “Now, now, Mouse. That’s not how this works.”

I stroked a single finger up his length, and when it brushed over the tip, he squeezed his eyes shut. I wetted my lips as I wrapped a single hand around his cock, starting at an agonizingly slow pace, a stark contrast to the one he’d set earlier. I had barely started moving at a faster pace when Spencer started to buck his hips up into my hand. I slammed his hips back down with my other arm, giving him a cold look. His hips stilled and I knew he was getting desperate.

I flattened my palm against his lower belly, making sure he’d stay in place as I steadily picked up the pace. Spencer threw his head back when I swiped my tongue over his tip, and huffed when I retracted my hands, breaking contact all together.

I hummed, “Actually, this isn’t that interesting.” I scooted back on the floor, holding eye contact with his piercing irises as I spread my legs wide open for him to see. Neither one of us has had our release yet, so I might as well take mine and leave him high and dry.

I brushed my fingertips down my body, cupping my breasts on the way, until I reached my clit. I started to rub circles over the bundle of nerves, not realizing how close I already was. I let out exaggerated moans as I continued my ministrations, steadily pushing myself toward the edge.

“Stop.” It was barely a whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I even heard it, so I ignored it. Right as another moan ripped through my lungs, I heard Spencer say, louder and more demanding this time, “Stop.”

I was too close to stop. I barely had the mental capacity to smirk down at him before I felt my release crash over me like a tidal wave. For dramatic effect, I whined out Spencer’s name as my walls clenched around nothing, helping myself through my orgasm. Slowly coming down from my high, my head lulled back, release seeping into his rug.

Barely allowing myself to catch my breath, I leaned forward onto my knees, and looked at Spencer’s face, which was red with anger or desperation I couldn’t tell, but brought my lips down on his dick regardless. He grunted at the sensation, and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I swirled my tongue around him until I couldn’t anymore, opting to just trace a protruding vein instead. I started to hollow out my cheeks when he bucked up into me, forcing me to take all of him in at once. He groaned when I started gagging around his length, and when I coughed after pulling off him, he had the audacity to laugh.

“Having trouble there, Jailbird?” Spencer smugly asked. I looked down at his length laying against his stomach and saw that it was a deep red, and had to have been painfully hard at that point. With that in mind, along with my recent release, I crawled over him.

I looked at him as I hovered my pussy just above his cock. “I wouldn’t be worried about me. I’d be worried about how you’re gonna take care of yourself with your hands cuffed if I decided I’m done with you.”

That threat wiped the smug look right off his face. I was already wet again, and allowed him to only barely feel what was waiting for him if he behaved, lowering myself down so his length was just brushing my lips.

His face contorted and then he said the word of my victory, “Please.”

Taking hold of his cock in one hand, I lined myself up, and slowly sunk down. He filled me up completely, a bit thicker than I remembered, and I sat comfortably in his lap. This was clearly what Spencer wanted, but there was no way in hell it was going to be that easy. I just sat there looking at him, and based on the crazed look on his face, he was expecting me to start moving immediately.

We stared each other down for a moment before his whole body jerked forward, hands yanking on the cuffs. It was my turn to laugh at his pathetic struggles, but I still didn’t have quite what I wanted yet. Raising my hips up, I quickly slammed them down, pulling the loudest groan I’d heard from Spencer. When I didn’t move again, he started squirming underneath me, and I asked, “What is it you want me to do, Mouse?”

Then he broke, his strangled pleas music to my ears, “God, fuck me, please, just fuck me!”

I grinned as I captured his lips in a vicious kiss, pulling his bottom lip between my teeth. Steadying myself with my palm on his chest, I lifted my hips up, only to let them fall back into his lap. I started slower than either of us wanted, letting myself adjust to his full size before bouncing freely on his dick. The sounds of our heavy moans filled the air, sweat collecting on our bodies.

I was honestly surprised at how long Spencer had lasted when he let out one final shriek before coming undone below me. He’d given up, completely relaxed on the floor as I started chasing my second orgasm. Spencer peered up at me through hooded eyes, and soon enough starting letting out cries, and I knew I was pushing him. I didn’t want to completely overwhelm him but I was so close…

I wouldn’t get there, not yet anyway, because Spencer did something I was not expecting. The couch hit the floor with a loud thud, giving Spencer the freedom to move his arms. He wrapped the chain of the cuffs around the back of my neck and flipped me over in one swift motion, almost identical to how I’d just done it to him.

I was completely caught off guard, and let a surprised squeak leave my lips. I was almost impressed. Almost.

As if he could see straight into my mind, Spencer remarked, “I’m a quick study.” His entire body weight was over me, and there was very little wiggle room for an escape.

I followed Spencer’s eyes as he scanned around the room, glanced at his wrists, then sighed when he spotted his pants. Must’ve been where he put the key.

I raised my pitch and snidely sang like a schoolgirl, “Whatcha gonna do Mouse? You gonna fuck me like the inmate you are, or are you gonna free yourself, hm?”

Pressing his hands down on either side of my perfectly laid out ones above my head, the chain between the cuffs digging into my forearms, he chided, “I’m sure I can handle you just fine with them on. I’m not quite done with you yet, Jailbird.”

My walls fluttered around his cock at the gravelly sound of his voice and the threat that accompanied it. It’s as if he’s chained to me. I shuddered happily at the thought.

“Is that what this is about?” Spencer hissed, clearly catching my pleased look and the way my pussy pulled him in a little more at his harsh words, “You just enjoy seeing me as some twisted killer?”

“I enjoy seeing you for who you truly are.”

I wasn’t able to form another coherent thought after that one, the pace Spencer was pounding into me like one I’d never felt. He fucked his cum from only seconds ago back into me, the wet sound of our mixing fluids filling the room. I could barely focus on where his hands had moved to, teasing my nipples, because the fire between my legs was jumping higher and higher. As it finally burned through me in the sweetest way possible, I reached to grab onto anything, the first thing my fingers found being Spencer’s hair. He growled when I tugged, but his pace never let up.

As I came down from my high, Spencer didn’t stop. The feelings were becoming too strong, too overpowering, pleasure bordering on pain. I tried to pull my hips away from his, but there was nothing I could do. To stop my squirming, he sat back slightly and pressed his large palms down on my hip bones. Moving also changed the angle he was slamming into me, now bottoming out with each thrust. I needed some reprieve.

“Spencer,” I whined, but there was a nothingness in his eyes.

His hands snaked up to my throat, applying massive pressure to my windpipe. “Is this what you wanted?” Spencer yelled, “Is this what you think I truly am?”

I was having trouble getting the air into my lungs, let alone respond. I wanted to force him to face his reality of being an ex-con, knowing how shitty it was to be on the inside and just letting me sit in there. A consequence of my own actions, but considering I was doing it to save him, I was looking for a little bit more effort on the getting out process.

But he’d left me in there. He didn’t care. He didn’t care despite the fact that he knew what I was going through, that I could tell he was still dealing with his own PTSD and not well, and that everything had changed for him. People looked at him and treated him differently. He was a different person. Corrupt. And he’d only been in there for not even three months.

I’d been in there for five times as long.

I wanted him to realize just how much damage him and his useless team were doing to me by not helping me get out. I wanted him to realize how fucked up that was, and how terrible of a person that made him. I wanted him to realize he was just as big of a monster as I was.

I accomplished that. But I underestimated how much darkness he’d really been holding back.

My head started to feel light, and I could tell I was on the brink of my third release. The sound of skin slapping skin was sinful and I couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his tip hitting my a-spot, the way my legs were shaking around his body, the way the muscles in his back felt against my nails as I clawed them down it. My release came quicker than Spencer’s, who wasn’t too far behind me. His thrusts became shallower, as he spilled into me for the second time. It was as if all the energy had been drained out of me in an instant, along with my anger and hatred. Spencer rolled off of me, and I saw his figure weakly collapse to the ground.

It was an eerie calm, the sound of absolute nothingness, the only disturbance being our labored breathing.

I didn’t know how long it’d been when Spencer’s voice, the softest I’d heard it since the day’s start, whispered, “Are you okay?”

I glanced at him with a confused look. He let out a small sigh at my non response, collecting himself before walking over to his long forgotten pants for the cuffs key. After freeing his wrists, he walked back over to me and helped me up, ushering me to the bathroom.

I could tell he was examining me, but it wasn’t until I stood in front of the mirror that I realized why. “Look at those bruises around your neck, Jailbird. They suit you.”

The bruises were deep and already turning a nice purple. I scanned the rest of me finding more bruises on my hips, thighs, shoulders, wrists, and not to mention the bite mark on my collar. I scanned Spencer next, his only bruises coming from his wrists and the red marks I left on his back. “I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

He met my eyes in the mirror, “What were you expecting?”

I shook my head, “I don’t know.” I truly didn’t. I went into it knowing I wanted to force him to see everything he had, everything he was, but I guess I didn’t really think about what that would force me to see. My exhaustion started to give way to a heap of emotions, and a single, involuntary tear escaped my eye. Spencer brushed his fingers over my neck, simultaneously pulling my hair behind my shoulder.

He kissed the tender, bruised skin, and I remembered the times before, the times when it felt like we’d really been in love. I felt his breath on me as he mumbled, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I turned on my heels to face him, “You didn’t.”

I didn’t know what compelled him to confess what I never thought he would, but he sounded deeply ashamed when admitting, “I wanted to.”

“What stopped you?” I was genuinely curious. We’d hurt each other in the most extreme ways before today, getting the other sent to a cage in hell, betraying each other.

“I’m broken, but I’m not beyond repair, and hurting you would make me someone that I don’t want to be.”

I gave him a tired smile, and all I could muster was, “Pretty convincing.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” I assured him. It was the truth.

“I should’ve,” he bit, looking down at his hands, which were so delicately holding my waist I couldn’t be sure he was even touching me.

“Why?” I questioned, the seriousness evident in my voice, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head, and a stray curl or two tickled my forehead. “I could’ve.”

“I trusted you not to.” I clasped my hands together and rested them on his back.

Spencer’s shaky voice matched his glistening eyes as they locked with mine, “I just wasn’t sure. All I know is that I scare myself sometimes.”

I pressed my forehead against his own, “Well, then I guess we’re two people who have nothing to fear other than ourselves.”

Read the full series

Taging some people:

@justanothetfangirl @kris-stuff @blameitonthenight21 @wooya1224 @unded-bride @swiftingday @dezzxmx @andiebeaword @psychicdonuts @aperrywilliams @goldentournesol @homoose

[legionofpotatoes]

I love your art, it is very detailed in a neat way. Was wondering how you got started making it as a source of income? How did you get your first paid work, I'd love some advice on how to get started, if that's ok

Thank you. Of course it's okay, although I doubt I have enough work experience in art to really delve into this. I only went full freelance this year, and had been juggling art as a side hobby until then. If you're still interested in my somewhat narrow perspective, and are okay with my long-winded rambles, I'll give it a shot:

So to answer your question fully, I'll describe how I started and move into personal advice and learnings later on. As a disclaimer, I am a white cishet dude in my late twenties with a moderate cocktail of mental illnesses, but overall I can pass for a functioning adult so a lot I have to say may come laced with privilege I cannot fully identify.

So uhh I began drawing in around 2012? I think? Maybe halfway through 2011? And I mostly made fanart for things I enjoyed and tried to branch out in communities that felt nourishing to my style and interests (I caught a bug for alt posters and enjoyed mainstream movies so I spent a long time on posterspy early on). There were a handful of opportunities that came from there but I could only accept a couple because of primary workplace commitments. Still, it showed that networking in a focused community was definitely a good place to start; I myself have huge trouble committing to social networks and really staying socially active, but I knew it was an essential ingredient in succeeding so I tried to make myself be involved in challenges and art support trains etc. as much as I could.

In parallel to all that I also ran a few third party online stores (redbubble, teepublic) for disposable income and would sometimes, if rarely, hit around $100-150 a month from those sources combined. It is a sort of thing that requires helper accounts on other social media sites to promote it on, because the stores themselves have a huge volume of content that translates into low organic discoverability. Obviously it was never gonna be the way towards financial independence through art, and with community projects being few and far between, I opened private commissions in around uhhh 2017 I think, focusing on offering a few styles I knew I could do well, and sometimes operating in individual fandoms (it was mostly a bioware thing to be frank). But I had to close them back down after a year or so, again because of work-life conflict and how badly it was burning me out. The reason I kept trying to monetize this hobby is because I honestly hated what I did for my main job and wanted to see a way out in some shape or form in the future.

And then in 2020 I had to quit my main job altogether because of *gestures at pandemic* and deal with a mental breakdown from all the wonderful things it did to us and me specifically. I took a short break and decided to give art a shot full-time, and that was around May this year. I was planning on opening up commissions again (and I still am), but a few sudden opportunities that fell in my lap moved that timetable down and now I'm grateful to even be doing something I am getting adequately paid for.

So, with that somewhat limited perspective, here's what I've learned that I'd tell myself if I was just starting out:

1. Being a fan of something can be a shortcut towards effective networking kickoffs. Which are important evidently. If you love something and enjoy making content for it, join communities, settle into a combination of social media websites that feel right for those interests + your body of work + your inner rhythm, and try to play to content discovery as much as your mental health allows you to. Like I said, I know that I myself am incredibly bad at self-motivating to talk to people, so I found that synergizing common interests into fanart - which I enjoyed making anyway - could be a way to give myself a gentle nudge forward and build those bridges leading to community activities, which then net experience and coverage. Sometimes even freelance projects from official avenues. Again; picking the right spaces for what you're after is key. Companies roam twitter, concept art recruiters scour artstation or linkedin etc, instagram can land you private commissions and collab opportunities, so on and so forth. Find your niche and try to kick up dust. However...

2. I do not believe that any social profile can replace a good portfolio. The thing that made an immediate difference to me this year was building a coherent, simple website with my best work front and center and a contact form on top. Every single opportunity I got came from that form (maybe via twitter or instagram initially, but always sealing the decision after going through the website), so I firmly believe that showcasing your skills and portfolio in a visually arresting and user-friendly way is a big priority. I had some reservations about tackling that task but fortunately I had help from a savvy life partner and we slapped it together via wordpress in less than a day. Twitter/whatever social media is prevalent in your target groups is definitely important to get the right eyes on your shit, yes, but those eyes will then look for a second stop where your work and rates are more clear and concise. Simplicity is key imo, I cannot overstate this. So make a cute, simple portfolio!

3. Your skills and rates will grow and change as you do. Let them. Over the years I built several lasting professional relationships from my obsession over mass effect and kept getting opportunities both from bioware and their partner companies, some small and some a bit bigger. A one-off job earlier this year opened an unexpected door to another much larger commitment, and then the work I did there brought some attention from small businesses looking for commercial commissions. These were all incredibly different projects in terms of scope and budget, and I've been tackling them all on a case-by-case basis and slowly coming into my own irt my needs, rates, and SOW thresholds. It is still a work in progress (and a LOT of literal work as well), and very much a thing I struggle with in publicly marketing, which is why I felt a tad underqualified to answer your question in the first place (obviously I did not let that stop me). But what it means for me now is that I am rapidly developing into whatever my "version" of a functioning freelance artist is, and when the conditions for that guy are met, I need to be able to confidently plant myself and operate from that space despite past precedents. Do not let anyone bully you into downpricing what you yourself perceive as legitimate products of personal growth and development. Speaking of which...

4. The shitty challenge of turning envy into inspiration, and paddling outside your comfort zones in full riot gear. it is hard, but realizing that being a miserable, self-hating artist in my early days got me nothing but more misery back was the first real step I took and what truly blew the hinges off. I was just not pleasant to be around, I would badmouth my work all the time, and it all somehow made sense in my broken mind because the validation I sought was purely external and the way I sought it was through eliciting sympathy via self-victimization (even when I made something objectively nice). It all led fucking nowhere. Except perhaps to my own narcissism that I one day managed to identify and start managing. So I started looking at things that made me seethe with envy and calmly deconstruct and figure out their inner workings instead, do studies, and find nuggets of inspiration or discover new ways to approach rendering or building up specific elements. It was an application of analytical diligence to what I wanted to be a purely emotional, esoteric workflow, but that I deep down knew wasn't. Art is a discipline and a skill, and maybe it isn't a straight line, but you gotta find some line to thread nevertheless. Being self-hating was almost an identity I had to break out of, and despite it still being like, 4-5% there? I realize its cause and effect on me, my work, and those around me, so it is with a conscious choice that I gently set it aside when I work and especially when I learn. It won't always stay quiet, but the effort is the difference. Your doors towards accepting true growth and venturing into uncharted territories, art styles, and networking will really open from there. But there's a huge caveat...

5. Toolsets, accessibility, privilege, and all the good things that enable artistic expression and profitability are not given equal to all. you might do all the mental work I mentioned to be ready to rock and roll and learn and draw your way out of anything, but digital art is a fucking money pit that asks almost too much at times. I don't got a good case study here but identifying and ensuring accessibility to the tools you need to do your best work is, like, super important. The ergonomics can improve as you make money and settle into the job, but the basics have to be made available to you. And some of that might not even be under your direct control. That can be anything from pen tablets to software subscriptions to opportunities in hiring sullied by sexism or what have you. You gotta navigate all that through careful networking and money/time management. I don't do a good job of devoting specific slices of time to work/study, and my primary clutch is iPad software which went from a good deal to a nightmare scenario over the years. So all I can say here is do what I didn't; network, invest in a PC/tablet, and pick a software you'll learn that won't burn a hole in your pocket.

6. Be nice to work with? This one is hard to articulate and has landed my own ass in hot water in my early years because of how socially inept I am, but nothing is more worthwhile than being.. like. a good person to work with. That can be anything like meeting deadlines, or sometimes missing them but eloquently articulating why, being generous in early stages, being communicable and not too wordy in your emails, having a good grasp on abstract artistic concepts and how to describe them in simple terms, having a clear, laid out framework of your working rates in commercial and non-commercial projects and sticking to those guns with grace, understanding when you need to say no and saying it well, the works. Just being nice. Sometimes that might mean going headstrong with something you believe in, or simmering down and sucking up to the big man, all relative and adaptive. Part and parcel of the service provision dance that we all have to do in order to make bank. Know your lines here, obviously, and don't like. work for nazis. or uh.. *shudders* exposure. but be nice and empathetic and communicable and word will travel eventually. Skill may be in abundance these days, but good people are most certainly not, and capitalism has a way of bubbling up scarcity. Grim, but uh, them's the breaks.

I know I'm ultimately telling you to like. Have a body of work, make a portfolio, grow, and network. But that's really how I see it for now. And being nice can be a cherry on top that sets you apart, along with the inherent irreplaceable voice of your artwork. I think I rambled on enough, but if there is something specific you need my help with, even if you want to come off anon and talk in private, please feel free.

[gospelofme]

57 Thoughts I Had While Watching Part 2 of The Bad Batch Season Finale (Spoilers ahead!!)

I do like how Part 2 picks right up where Part 1 left off. I prefer that method since it makes it feel like one connected piece. Like how Rogue One ended where A New Hope kicks off.

Ya know, I wouldn’t mind the thunderstorms.

Okay the explosions are beautifully animated. The blues, the sparks, the orange flames. And I like how they’re realistically placed. So many shows with explosions don’t have them right close to the characters, even if they’re supposed to be all around them.

This episode is kinda darkly lit. Not like Battle of Winterfell in Game of Thrones.

Okay yeah, that clone reporting the destruction…thats some sadness there.

That inner alarm has me thinking “oh shit my flight has changed gates again hasn’t it!!”

Damn, imagine being unconscious and wake up in a flooding compartment with a droid and that one kid who took your place.

Okay how strong is that knife. I kinda expect it to break in half. Wrecker would

probably try to trade with Hunter after that.

The shot of the burning buildings on the water is so beautiful too. The reflections were well done.

About AZ being like “oh hey homie, you survived being blown up but now you’re drowning. And I’m watching while this literal child tries to move metal debris off of you.”

Okay Omega using her bow like that is genius. But please wee baby don’t hit Crosshair by accident. And the way the bolts underwater were animated. 🤌🏻🤌🏻

And Crosshair being all “wtf?!”

Dang Omega is so take charge here.

Okay the sprays of water from the door is so well done. And omg they just pop outta there lmao!!!! About how Omega is caught and they just let Crosshair slide on the floor.

Haha Crosshair being like “Hunter, you fucker did you break something?!”

I really wish it wasn’t so darkly lit, but it does bring a sense of realism. The power is out, so what we’re able to see is what the characters are able to see with flashlights. Plus I’m sure this would look different on my TV than iPad.

The music is so pretty, so emotional. Oh damn poor AZ.

Oh never mind. He’s good.

Crosshair quit being a poop and follow them please.

Echo and that smell lmao.

“Blind allegiance makes you a pawn. A real leader protects his squad.”

Huh. Interesting. But isn’t blind allegiance what the clones had in the Republic? Isn’t that what Clone Force 99 had in the Republic? At least mostly. Some clones didn’t have that obviously, like Cut.

Ooohh Crosshair’s expression when Hunter knocked his shoulder. That seemed like surprise. There is something to that.

Hmmmmmm I’m with Crosshair on that. Going through a glass tunnel with cracks in it hundreds of feet below the surface would be a no from me. Also, what about water pressure? Is that not a thing there? Like wouldn’t you get a massive headache traveling through that? Or maybe not….idk.

Oh fuck Wrecker letting Crosshair know what’s what. I do like that he’s finally expressing how he feels. I’ve always thought there was more of a brotherly relationship between Wrecker and Crosshair than Crosshair had with the others. And Wrecker has a point, Crosshair didn’t even try to come back to them. Of course that really isn’t a fair statement either I guess. Wrecker should remember how he couldn’t control what he did when his chip kicked on.

And Tech jumping in and saying that Crosshair has always been “severe and unyielding” is a good way to let us know a bit more of what’s normal behavior for Crosshair. I like how he’s reminded Wrecker that some things Crosshair can’t help due to just how he is (likely a byproduct of the enhancement experiments).

“Understanding you does not mean I agree with you.” Ugh if only more people had this mindset. Also, the whole “why are you defending me?” sounds like Tech doesn’t usually leap to Crosshair’s defense (even though that’s not what he’s doing here). Which further makes me think that the brotherly relationship that usually exists between team members (like Domino squad eventually, Rex/Echo/Fives/Kix/Jesse/Hardcase/Tup) doesn’t exist here between all the guys. It’s more sporadic. Crosshair seems to get along better with Wrecker (in their own way, teasing and their droid death counts) than he does with Tech.

Also perhaps they should not stop so often…ya know, just in case the tunnel implodes.

Oh nope nope nope. No underwater tubes and sea monsters for Bethany.

AZ is so peppy. Like he sounds so positive when relaying bad news. He sounds like the kinda droid that would be like “good news is you have great cholesterol, bad news is you have cancer. But yay no diabetes!”

Oh yeah I kinda forgot Hunter wasn’t with them they first got to the private lab. And oh damn, Omega is technically older than them. The whole accelerated aging thing is just so unfair.

Well we really couldn’t expect a glass tunnel to fully survive aerial bombardment. Better start swimming fuckers!!

Damn, someone find AZ a charger! I bet Tech has one for his datapad that boy is attached too. He seems like the type to never be without a phone charger. He also seems like the type to not want to share it because no one else in the squad treats their charge cords with respect.

Dad gum Crosshair, I didn’t hear you spouting off any bright ideas. Geez, who peed in your wheaties?!

Hunter takes things too personally?! Weren’t you being all Salty McSourpus over Hunter leaving your ass on Kamino for shooting at him and the others? Were you not taking that too personally? But kudos to Hunter for reminding him the Empire peaced the fuck out and left him to die on Kamino. Although…Crosshair does sound like he’s trying not to care about that. Like it does bother him but he’s acting like he don’t give a fuck.

“The Empire will control the entire Galaxy. And I’m going to be a part of it.” Uhm, sir…you’re currently in a secret lab at the bottom of the ocean with no means of escape right now. How do you plan to be a part of the Empire from down here? Like, are you going to establish the underwater branch of the Empire and assert the Emperor’s control over the sea critters?

Ugh Omega trying so hard to bond with Crosshair. Like the parallel between this scene and the holding cell scene. And her thinking she was wrong about the chip making him behave like a dick. Oh sweet baby, you’re not wrong. He still has that thing. But he has always been a dick per Tech’s words earlier. But she’s trying so hard to show him the similarities between them.

I’ve noticed Crosshair does a lot of pushing people away. Like he’s been doing that with Hunter and Omega this whole season. Speaking harshly to them both (although I think some of the things he says to Hunter, he’s always wanted to say). But I think it’s more that he wants to avoid disappointing them, so he shoves them away to prevent that feeling. Like perhaps he thinks he isn’t worthy to be around them, that they’ll be better off without him around.

Oh fuck, look at you contributing now Mr. I Am Going To Complain About Other People’s Ideas.

Did they have to draw straws to see who got their own pod and who had to team up with who? Like,

Hunter: “Someone has to go with Tech.”

Crosshair, Wrecker: “Not it!”

Echo: “not it, fuck I wasn’t fast enough.”

Oh the wee child is getting her own pod. Okay then.

Of course Hunter and Crosshair get doubled up. I bet they argue the whole time.

Crosshair: “stop breathing all the air!!”

Hunter: “stop standing on my foot!!”

Crosshair: “well it’s not my fault you have Sasquatch feet!”

Oh damn. Well bye Omega. It was nice knowing you. Crosshair probably has your eulogy already written.

Hm, so Tech never shared his datapad charge cord with AZ. Bummer.

Awww poor AZ. He was a good droid. We’ll remember how he OMG OMEGA WHAT THE FUCK?!!???

Again is water pressure not a thing in Star Wars?

Sweetie. He’s metal. You won’t be strong enough to pull him along with you.

Oh fuck Crosshair! Oh damn the look on his face is like “Hunter, get you ugly ass face out of my shot.” Oh damn, boy has got some good eyesight, I want a piece of that.

Bruh, that’s gotta hurt. You just saved the kid they all love and they got you at blaster point. Buuuuuut at the same time you haven’t expressed the most positive attitude towards said kid either. So maybe they have a good reason to think you’d shoot her? Still. Damn. That’s gotta hurt, since if it had been the good ol’ days they’d be like “nice shot buddy!”

Hunter looks more wary than upset honestly. Like he isn’t sure why Crosshair did that, but he’s not sure if Crosshair would want him expressing gratitude either. Hunter doesn’t seem to know how to treat him any more. Crosshair belittles him and speaks harshly to him, but then saves Omega. It’s almost like old Crosshair is still in there, knowing how attached the team is to Omega. Even if he does think she’s not in the safest environment with them.

Oh…omg what is this?! I just noticed, no rain on Kamino….AND SUNSHINE?! Like is that a fucking sunrise??!!?? Oh shit you guys there is symbolism here!!! Like a new start or something impossible has happened. Like there has never been sunshine on Kamino, it’s always stormed. Always. Always and forever it has done that. But after the destruction of Tipoca City, the rains cease and the sunshine comes out. Like….omg guys. It’s pretty!!

Interesting. Omega seems sad that a place she didn’t want to ever return to is gone. But I guess that’s probably the notion that she’s essentially homeless setting in. That the only home she’s had (before Clone Force 99) is gone.

Also, I have this theory that Ghost Fives probably travels with Echo, and he’d likely be like “good! Fuck that place. Killing Tup there and all. Bitches.”

Echo: “stfu Fives, she’s sad okay.”

Honestly I’m not surprised Crosshair refused their offer to come with them. He has his pride and I feel like he doesn’t want to admit aligning with the Empire was a mistake. That he was wrong and Hunter was right. Especially after being all Pro-Empire and talking about how they’re going to be what the Galaxy needs.

“Consider us even.” GIRL he admits it! He was saving YOU!! YOU! Not the dumb droid, YOU!!!!

His face says it all when they pull away. Like he regrets not going with them, but he can’t bring himself to stay with them. He’s really conflicted right now. He has programming in his head telling him one thing and another portion of his mind reminding him that Tech, Wrecker, Hunter, and even Echo care about him. That they’re a team. He even wanted them to join the Empire so they could all get back together. He does want to be with them, but it’s going to take time to get passed the war in his head.

Oh damn, Nala Se and some Commando buddies. Yeah there’s something up with her. She seems to have gained a lot out of this. Making herself more important than Lama Su and likely more important than the other scientists from Kamino. I wonder if this was her plan all along. It’s so hard to tell what Kaminoans are thinking because they don’t express emotions facially or even vocally.

I read a post somewhere about Nala Se doing childish science experiments. Like the baking soda/vinegar volcano. And now I can’t get the image out of my head of her teaching like a high school chemistry class where you get to do those classic science fair experiments. Things exploding, clones accidentally gassing each other at a table. Someone betting someone else 5 credits to drink a solution.

@leias-left-hair-bun @halzore @escapedthesarlacc @eyecandyeoz

[ranveer--singh]

Wash my soul

A/N - I been debating where to post this, on my fic blog or here. So after contemplating i decided to post it here. Now i want to thank my lovely sis @lawsandother who listened to me rant the idea, send her tidbits and then she finally beta this for me. Thank you so much ily. 

Tags - @lawsandother @avsensio @demivampirew @iloveyouyen @littlefreya @captainbigdy @yespolkadotkitty​ @chamomilebottom​ @madbaddic7ed​ @dangerouslovefanfic​ @fishcustardandclintbarton​ @hell1129-blog​ @ellixthea​ @luclittlepond​ @ladyreapermc​ @penwieldingdreamer​ @hnryycvll​ 

It's 4 pm, on a miserable day in June. Nisha sat comfortably on the sofa, with a blanket covering her legs. She had a cup of tea with a few biscuits on the coffee table, while she took her iPad and started to read the new chapter.

Her boyfriend Henry was upstairs, in his makeshift office attending a few business meetings via zoom. This gave her the opportunity to be by herself and read her chapter. Nisha sipped her cup of tea, eyes slowly moving left to right taking in each sentence. 

Rain started to pour down hard making Nisha move up from her IPad to see out the window. It had been a few very hot days, the gardens needed the water. She pulled the blanket further up, covering her chest as the rain and winds now got her feeling chilly. 

Nisha went back to reading, the thing she did a lot more in the lockdown. She was so far enjoying the chapter, it made her laugh, awe, and cry in the space of 10 minutes. Now came the steamy part of the chapter, Nisha braces herself by taking a few swigs of her tea.

It started slow, with lots of kissing, touching, and exploring one another's bodies. Clothes started to come off, getting Nisha to push the blanket off her. Then she read the author describe the man's cock, making her think of her boyfriend's.  How big, thick, and all in her mouth it was last night. 

Reading the female character rub her hand up and down his cock, got Nisha feeling tingly in between her legs. Looking at the corner of her iPad she saw the time, knowing Henry still had another 40 minutes before his meeting would be over. 

She moved her right leg on top of her left one, squeezing it to stop the sensations. She wanted to save it all for Henry, her wet clit all for him. Nisha took a few more swigs of her tea, grabbing a biscuit to eat. She enjoyed the female character taking her time with the cock.

This brought memories to last night, Nisha took his big thick cock inside her mouth. She squeezed her legs again, to stop the tingling feeling increased. Few more lines before the character sucked the cock, Nisha bit her lip imagining Henry's.

The chapter started to pick up, with more kissing, touching, and fingering the clit. The male character put his tongue to good use, lapping her wet pussy dry. Nisha felt her clit get warm, she needed Henry to come fuck her. She slipped her jogging bottoms off, spreading her legs so she could feel how wet she had become. 

Moving her panties to the side she slipped two fingers inside. Nisha had now rested the iPad on her other leg, still able to read. giving her hands the freedom to touch herself. She took her fingers and started rubbing up and down as she read each sentence. Her mouth let out a gasp, wanting Henry's fingers instead of hers. 

Her eyes scanned the words, biting her lip as she moved her fingers up and down in a faster motion. Keeping her eyes fixed on the iPad, she read the next paragraph of the male character going down and licking the clit with his tongue. Nisha yelped, needing Henry to help her with the burning sensation building up in between her legs. 

Nisha now regretted reading the chapter, it got her horny but her boyfriend was busy with meetings. So she kept rubbing herself, moaning loudly, getting herself off. She didn't notice that Henry had walked into the room now with his hands crossed across his chest.

He just stood there, biting on his lip as he watched her getting herself off. His eyes move to stair at her long dainty fingers rub her wet fold. Henry grinned, the familiar way she came had just happened. Her back arched, her face looking at the ceiling as her legs shook, fingers coating in her juice. 

Nisha couldn't help the loud noise escaping her mouth, Henry watched as she slowly came down from her high. Her body started to relax, a huge smile appeared on her lips dreaming of the aftercare he would give her. Henry would wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. So she could rest her head on his chest, hearing him breathing softly. 

He would wrap his arms around her, rubbing Nisha's arms which helped soothe her to bed. Henry coughed, drawing the attention of Nisha, who turned around to see his gorgeous blue eyes. A blush crept on her face, it wasn't the first time he had caught her masturbating while he was busy or out for a run.

"Babe," she chimed, slipping her panties on now walking towards him. Henry chuckled, looking at her with a beautiful glow on her face. "Did your meetings finish early," Nisha said staring at him in the famous blue tank top 

"Yes, meetings ended early because Lauren wasn't feeling well. Which worked in my favour, it is a pleasure to see you come down from your high," Henry chuckled, looking down at Nisha who was smiling, giving him a wink.

"Hope she ok, give her my regards babe," she spoke being concerned for the Witcher's producer. "My fingers only helped a small fraction, nothing beats your tongue, fingers, and thick dick." Nisha giggled looking at Henry, who was rubbing his palm in slow motion.

He knows exactly what he is doing, playing with his hands which got Nisha tingling, some cum trickling down her leg. 

"What made you so hot that you couldn't wait for me," he spoke looking her deep in the eyes wanting to fuck her this instance. 

"You being busy with work stuff, I was horny and had to entertain myself with my book and fingers," Nisha spoke, sticking her tongue out at him. 

"Well I'm not busy now," he chimed, his eyes looking hungrily at his girl. Henry gave her no time to respond, pressing his lips on hers.  Nisha moved her hands to grip his arms, they were petite little things but able to grab hold of as much as she could to stop her from falling.

She gripped his arm again, finding it hard to hold on. Henry was big guy, since his role in the witcher he had worked on making his arms bigger. Though Nisha loved them, she sometimes found it hard to wrap her hands around. 

The sultry moans escaped Henry's mouth making her body shiver. Nisha squeezed his arms for support, feeling her legs turn to jelly and could fall. Henry moved his lips off her,  his hands still on her face, looking down at his gorgeous girlfriend.

"Hmmm, you smell good," Henry said inhaling her scent. 

"Shut up, I smell of cum and coffee that I drank earlier," Nisha said hitting his arm. Henry chuckled, poking her stomach making her laugh. He loved hearing her laugh, it was as if he heard some beautiful music playing in the background. 

"Come with me," Henry spoke in a very low tone, making Nisha tingle. She linked her petite hand with his, feeling tiny next to him. He took her back to the couch she was masturbating last. "Sit down," he said in an authoritative tone. 

Nisha sat down, biting her lip remembering just minutes ago touching herself on this very spot. What was Henry going to do, she hoped he would ram his dick inside of her. Her pussy was feeling damp under the material and she needed to be freed.

"You've been a naughty girl today kitten," Henry said and grabbed her ass up to give it a smack. Nisha yelped, him smacking her ass once more. "Next time come find me and I will make that cunt never need to use your fingers again," Henry spoke, spit coming out of his mouth. He grabbed hold of the hem of her panties, pulling on it to make a slight rip.  

Henry used his force to rip the panties fully off her pussy.

"Spread your leg kitten," Henry chuckled, biting his lip watching Nisha spread her legs wide enough to show how wet her pussy was. "Kitten already so wet for me," he chuckled going down to inspect it. She knew he wasn't going to give it to her straight, Henry was going to make her wait for it because she disobeyed him. 

The anticipation was making her grouchy, could he not just touch her already. Henry grabbed her foot, placing a soft kiss from the base of her foot all the way up. He moved up slightly, his scruff now scratching her skin, this was one Nisha's favourite sensations. 

Henry started to suck her inner thigh, scraping the skin with his scruff. This was making her moan, wanting to kick him off and do it herself. Yet she loved being teased. He sucked her sweet spot just near her pussy, making some nice marks for her to never forgot him. 

Nisha moaned, feeling that bite on her inner thigh. She loved it when he plays rough with her, marking her body showing his love for her. He moved across to her other leg, kissing, sucking leaving more marks. Henry could feel her legs move a little, needing him to touch her wet pussy.

"Babe," Nisha said sweetly, her hands moving to rub his arms up and down. Henry ignored her pleas, concentrating on her sweet spot near her pussy. "Baby please," she yelled, her voice cracking showing how much she yearned for dick inside her. 

"Shhh Kitten, all in due time," Henry said chuckling at her. He looked at her pussy seeing how wet it became. Henry patted her pussy, making her squirm before she yelped loudly as his long big fingers slipped inside rubbing her vigorously.

He moved his fingers back and forward causing friction. Nisha felt like she was about to burst, her hands squeezing her boobs for support. Henry knew exactly what he was doing, as soon as she was about to cum. He slipped his fingers out of her dripping wet pussy smirking at her.

"Fuck you," she screamed needing to cum right this moment. Henry chuckled, he loved his feisty woman, wondered what got her so worked up. 

"Now now kitten, no need to be rude," he said pushing his joggers off those thick thighs. She watched as he quickly took his boxers off, freeing his erection. Henry gave himself a rub, looking at Nisha like she was his prey.

He grabbed her ass to bring her even closer to him. Henry pushed her legs wider, before slowly pushing his dick inside. Nisha smirked, finally she was going to be able to cum. He slaps his thighs against hers as he continues to thrust. 

Nisha breathing started to get heavy, her mouth yelling incoherent words in both English and Hindi. Henry smirked, pressing down on her hips. He loved hearing Nisha speak in her native language, especially when she would whisper words in his ear.

"Kitten look at me fucking you," Henry snarled, making her shiver and look down at his balls slamming into her vagina. Henry moved his hand up to grab her boob, squeezing it for support. The room was now getting humid, Nisha enjoying how the dick felt inside of her. 

Henry moved his left hand down to give her vagina a rub, helping get to the edge quicker. This really did tip her off, because only moments later her body started to shake. You can see she started to cum, his finger rubbing circles which was the added bonus. 

Nisha screamed, grabbing his arms and squeezing them tightly. She could feel her legs buckle, cramping up as her body started to twitch. Henry watched her walls get tighter,  her breathing heavy and she couldn't contain her loud moans. 

Cum started to spill out of her pussy uncontrollably. Henry bit his lip watching it trickle down her thighs, some shooting onto his chest. He thrusts himself deep inside, hearing the cum as his dick moves in and out. Seconds later he came, filling her up nicely watching her eyes close and her head looking up at the ceiling.

Henry smiled, looking down at her. She looked stunning, the sweaty glow, her smile told him Nisha was the one for her. 

"Curious, what got you so horny you couldn't wait for me," Henry asked, crooking his neck a little curious to know.

"Can I read it," Henry spoke with a curious expression on his face. He was intrigued and wanted to read for himself what got Nisha horny. She looked at him, biting her lip, shoving up from him to grab the iPad.

Henry watched as she typed the passcode in, opening the app to show him what she had read. Nisha smiled, not nervous as she handed him the iPad already onto the smut. 

He slowly moved off her, sitting down on the empty space on the sofa ready to read. She watched his eyes scan the screen, waiting for his thoughts on the chapter. Nisha could see a smirk forming, making her pussy tingle. 

"So," Nisha spoke softly, making Henry put his hand out signaling he was still reading. A smiling Nisha could tell he was enjoying it from the way his eyes sparkled to the smirk. 

Henry had finally finished the chapter, not saying a word. He closed the iPad, putting it down on the coffee table. Just turning his body to now face Nisha. 

"Come on, don't keep me waiting. What did you think," she rambled, excited to know did he even like it, was it vanilla for him, was it not his style. 

"Kitten come sit on my lap," Henry seductively spoke like his character Geralt. He patted his thick thighs, indicating Nisha to come sit on him. Nisha didn't hesitate, shifting herself to his lap. Her hands squeezing his thighs, making her pussy burn for him.

Henry leaned down, moving her hair to one side, so he could see her sweet spot. No warning whatsoever, he nipped on the skin, making Nisha hiss loudly. He sucked, bit down on the soft spot making her wet all over.

Henry pulled away, leaving a mark to show how much he loved her. He looked down at her with a huge smirk.

"That was hot," he chuckled, pointing to the chapter he read. "But not as hot as fucking you my love," Henry said, grabbing her boobs and giving them a squeeze. 

"Maybe we should read some more together," she said in between squealing. Henry gave her boobs another squeeze, loving the idea of sitting naked with his girlfriend and reading erotica.

"Want to find me something kitten," he spoke in a low tone. This got Nisha shivering,  wondering what new piece could read together. Until she remembered the story she read from @littlefreya blog while he was filming the witcher. It made her cum for hours. She grabbed her iPad, finding the story, both sitting comfortably on each other, passing time by reading this erotic story.

Half way through, the iPad was shut, Henry carried her in his arms to the bedroom where they had the most sensational sex. 

[whitewolfmoving]

Guard Your Body, Guard My Heart || Bucky Barnes au

A/N: Writing commission for @arrowsandmixtapes I had so much fun writing this for you! Thank you for commissioning me 🥰

Summary: Agent Barnes is the best in his field. When Aceline Marcure—the key witness in a murder investigation—is placed in his care, he’s tasked with keeping her safe until their primary suspect can be taken out. As time goes on, Bucky Barnes learns two things: one, never judge a book by its cover and two, he owes Steve Rogers $100.

Warnings: swearing, Bucky Barnes needs to calm down, I don’t know what I’m talking about half the time—literally just made this crock of shit up

Word Count: 3976

——————————

File Status: CLASSIFIED

Password: ***************

Access: GRANTED

Bucky leaned against the driver’s door of his SUV and pushed his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, quickly skimming over the file on his iPad screen. He’d just made it to the safe house out on Bennet road, and was waiting for the Director to arrive. This certainly wasn’t how he’d planned on spending his day off; forced to come into work at the last minute, forced to babysit someone else who couldn’t stay out of trouble. Fuck. Bucky couldn’t catch a break.

He took a long drag of the cigarette between the fingers of his right hand, and continued scrolling through the file. He noted the important details like the young woman’s name, her age, where she was from, what she did for a living, who she kept in her close inner circles; and threw out the ones he deemed unimportant like her favorite food, the name of her cat, her hobbies, where she did her grocery shopping. No sense getting to know her since this job would hopefully be short lived. Keep her safe long enough for authorities to apprehend the douche attempting to murder her, then let her go back to her old life… if she even could go back to her old life. Sometimes these things didn’t always go to plan, Bucky knew that well. He’d lost a few in his early years. But the reason Director Fury kept him on was because of his turnaround rate. No one brought down suspects with the same speed and zeal that James Barnes did. His success rate was through the roof and far outnumbered his failures. So if Nick Fury thought he was the perfect agent for this job, then he was the perfect agent for this job and no other questions needed asking.

A sleek black car pulled into the gravel driveway and parked next to Bucky’s SUV. The driver’s door opened and Steve Rogers stepped out of the car, not Director Fury.

“What are you doing here, Rogers? Where’s Fury?” Bucky asked, careful not to slip into the causal way he was used to addressing his fellow agent when they were off the clock.

Steve nodded back to the car as he stepped around the vehicle and joined Bucky at the SUV. “He got pulled into a meeting on his way out of the office, called me in to deliver.”

“Yeah? How was the ride over?”

“Quiet, she didn’t say much.”

“Good, makes my job a hell of a lot easier.”

“Listen, I think this guy’s really getting under her skin. Go easy on her, hmm?”

“Go easy on her? What kinda man do you take me for, Rogers?” Bucky laughed.

“I mean it, man. Look, I know how you can get on these jobs. Just try to be a bit more understanding than usual, alright?” Steve said. He lightly rapped on the tinted window of the car, the back right passenger door opened shortly after.

To say Bucky Barnes was floored by the sight in front of him would be putting it lightly. The young woman that stepped out of the car appeared to be so much more than what he was expecting, just from what he’d read of her file. She wasn’t nearly as fragile-looking as the report made her seem, though Bucky could tell she equally wasn’t as battle-hardened either.

Steve motioned between Bucky and the young woman, addressing them accordingly, “Barnes, this is Aceline Marcure. Miss Marcure, this is Agent James Barnes, he’ll be your bodyguard. You’ll be staying here at our safe house for the duration of the case. Unfortunately, you’re not allowed to have any outside visitors, that means no telling anyone where you are. This is just as much for their safety as it is yours. Should you need or want to leave the cabin for any reason, you are not to go alone. Agent Barnes is to be with you at all times. Take tonight to get settled, I’ll check in with you in the morning.”

“Agent Rogers, you’re not staying with us?” Aceline asked, hazel eyes shining as she looked up at the blond-haired man next to her.

“No, ma’am. My job was simply to make sure you arrived safely and were transferred to Agent Barnes’ care in one piece,” Steve said.

Aceline nodded. She extended her right hand toward Bucky, waiting for him to take it.

Bucky eyed her closely; he dismissed her outstretched hand and turned to Steve, pulling the other agent away from the car. He finished off his cigarette and tossed the butt to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe. “You gotta be kidding me here, Stevie. Someone’s out for this girl? I don’t buy it.”

“I only know what’s in her file, Buck. Same as you. The rest is on a need-to-know basis.”

“Yeah, well, Fury better have a damn good reason for bringing me in on my one day off in over a month.”

“Just try to get through tonight without tearing each other’s heads off, alright? Can you do that?”

Bucky scoffed. “Yeah, I got it. Get out of here, Rogers.”

+

After Steve had helped Bucky get their bags inside, he’d left Aceline with his cell number before heading back to the city. He knew how Bucky could get, he promised her she’d need it. They both watched silently as Steve’s car backed down the gravel driveway and took off, leaving the two of them together in complete silence. Then Bucky left Aceline alone to get settled in while he went to take a shower.

Now, he stood at the island in the kitchen with a mug of coffee and a pack of cigarettes next to it. His iPad laid in front of him with Aceline’s file open on the screen. He rolled up the sleeves of the darke blue sweatshirt he’d pulled on after his shower and got to work reading through the report more thoroughly.

Name: Aceline Marcure

Age: Unknown

Birthplace: Brooklyn, New York

Occupation: Bookstore Owner

Bucky scoffed. Great, just what he needed, another softie. Another person who wouldn’t be able to hold her own against the horrors of being in Witness Protection. How in the hell was he supposed to keep her safe if he had to worry about whether or not she could handle it all, too? He took a sip of coffee; the warmth from the mug seeped deep into the palm of his right hand, his left hand remained vaguely unbothered by the change in temperature. Ah, yes, one more thing he’d have to worry about—whether or not she could handle that small detail on top of everything else. He was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs.

Bucky quickly closed the case file on his iPad and turned off the screen, he then moved to the coffee pot on the counter behind him and poured another mug. He wasn’t happy about this, far from it, but at least there was coffee. He set the new mug on the far end of the island and waited for Aceline to join him in the kitchen. As she rounded the corner, Bucky could see the exhaustion settled deep in her bones. He could tell that this wasn’t exactly her idea of a vacation either.

He nodded to the coffee mug on the opposite end of the island, watching Aceline’s movements closely. She moved slowly across the room; her shoulders hung heavy, her eyes dimmed. She smiled gratefully at Bucky, silently thanking him for the coffee. She didn’t try to talk to him, which he was grateful for.

Aceline set her mug back down on the counter and looked up at the agent. His demeanor was less than inviting. She couldn’t help but wonder what had crawled up his ass to make him that way. She sighed, combing a hand through her long hair. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here. And I know you want me here about as much as I’d like to be here, so can we just agree to stay out of each other’s way until this thing is over?”

“Good plan,” Bucky said gruffly. His tone alerted Aceline to the fact that he didn’t think it was a good idea at all, and even if it had been, he was about to shit all over it. “Except for the gaping hole in the center of it.”

“Oh, yeah, and what might that be?” Aceline challenged.

“You seem to be forgetting that you are in Witness Security. Which means, unless it’s to sleep, shower, piss or shit, you’re not allowed so much as a foot out of my sight. Am I clear?”

“Is that supposed to make me want to listen to you? Cause it doesn’t. I get that your weekend’s been ruined or whatever, but I didn’t ask to see some dude get his head blown off and I didn’t ask to be put in Witness Security.”

“Well, that’s just tough. It is, you did, and you are. I only have two rules for the duration of this case: stay where I can see you at all times, and follow my instructions. Do that, and we won’t have any problems.”

Aceline promptly excused herself, leaving Bucky alone under a heavy silence once again. He wouldn’t admit it, but she had fire in her veins—something Bucky wasn’t used to seeing in the usual clients who entered the program. If Bucky were a gambling man, he would have already bet on how long Aceline would be able to stick it out. But he wasn’t and he hadn’t.

+

Bucky was still up by the time the moon had settled at its peak in the dark sky.

Aceline had gone to bed hours ago and he hadn’t heard so much as a whisper from her since. Their earlier conversation yielded a thick amount of tension between them, with Bucky feeling no more or less in control of the situation as he had when it began. Throughout the day, it had become increasingly clear to Bucky that Aceline was stubborn, and unbearably so.

He’d just finished logging his notes for Director Fury on how the first day had gone, and was heading upstairs to bed, when a piercing scream came from Aceline’s room. Bucky was up the stairs and around the corner in seconds, gun drawn and ready for whatever he’d come face-to-face with. But as he made it to Aceline’s room, he was met with the sounds of pained whimpers—nothing like what he’d expect if someone were attempting to harm her. Still, he knew better than to let his guard down until he cleared the room.

Aceline’s door was cracked; Bucky slowly and carefully pushed it open just enough for him to slip through unheard. He cleared the corners to the left and right of the doorway, the room was empty except for the bed where Aceline slept fitfully. He holstered his handgun and scrubbed a hand down his tired face—he hated this part, the comforting part. He wasn’t good at it, comforting other people. S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t hired him for his ability to be nurturing, they’d hired him for his deadly aim.

Bucky sighed. He approached Aceline’s bedside cautiously, aware that any sudden movements on his part could spell disaster for both of them. Bucky stilled as she shot up quickly, eyes frantically darting around the room. Her eyes landed on Bucky still a few feet away, but close enough to make out who he was in the dark, and she settled. Bucky let his shoulders relax.

Her hair was disheveled, she was frightened; Bucky was so far out of his league.

Bucky cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. “You were screaming. I thought someone was in the house, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I can’t stop seeing it—what happened, over and over and over. It’s like it plays on a constant loop in my head. It won’t leave me alone.” Aceline shook her head, her voice trembled with exhaustion and Bucky wondered how long it’d been since she’d had a good night’s sleep.

“I wasn��t given the details of what happened, only told to protect you. Whatever you saw was—is important. You should go back to sleep, we have to head into the office tomorrow. Rest up.” He turned to leave without another word.

“Stay. Please?” Aceline switched on the lamp beside her bed, and warm light flooded the room. Bucky could see her properly now, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her hair was disheveled, she was trembling; Bucky was so far out of his league.

“I need to check the rest of the cabin. Rest up,” Bucky repeated. “See you in the morning.”

He exited the room and pulled the door shut behind him. The fear on Aceline’s face and the way she was staring up at him as she asked him to stay with her had been burned into his brain. For a moment there, he’d considered sitting by her bedside and watching over her until she fell asleep; but comforting someone wasn’t something Bucky Barnes could do.

He made his way back down the stairs and checked the locks once again. Taking a seat in the living room, he grabbed his phone to call Steve before heading to bed. The line rang twice and Steve picked up immediately.

“Buck, it’s late. Is Aceline okay?” The gruffness of Steve’s voice told Bucky he’d been asleep prior to the agent’s call.

“Everything’s fine here, Stevie. She had a nightmare or something, woke up screaming a little bit ago,” Bucky replied, unsure of what else to say.

“Well, is she alright? Do either of you need anything?” Steve asked, and Bucky could hear the shuffling of his blankets as he sat up in bed.

“No, we’re fine, she’s just spooked. She asked me to sit with her, but we both know that’s not something I can do.”

“Have you even tried since your last case?”

“Steve, don’t push it.”

“Have you tried getting to know her? Having a conversation with her?”

“Steve.” Bucky’s patience with his best friend was wearing thin.

“I’m just saying, it’s not any easier to be in WITSEC than it is to be the agent protecting her. You both could use some reassurance. She needs to know she can count on you to keep her safe, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. And you need to remember that it’s okay to care about someone else,” Steve said gently. “I’ll cover for you at the office tomorrow. Take her out, let her stretch her legs, see the city. And if she wants to talk, listen. I know you’re still carrying guilt for what happened last time, but that wasn’t your fault. And Aceline isn’t Charlotte.”

Bucky tensed at the mention of his last client; things hadn’t gone well, he still hadn’t recovered from her loss. He’d gotten too close, let his feelings get in the way… he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. He sighed, figuring Steve was at least right about getting Aceline out of the cabin for a little bit, what could it hurt?

He and Steve chatted for a few more minutes, then hung up. By the time he was finally ready to go back upstairs, he had a small game plan in place.

The following morning, Aceline was up with the sun. She hadn’t quite slept as soundly as she’d hoped after Bucky left her room, but knowing he was nearby had eased her worries enough to get some rest. She wasn’t sure what the day had in store for her, but she knew she needed to get out of the house. She couldn’t just leave, though, not without Bucky. In the time it took to shower and dress for the day, she’d only figured out part of a plan to sway things in her favor. She ventured down the stairs ready to put her half-baked plan into action.

The kitchen was empty when she entered. It was big, certainly bigger than her kitchen at home and would allow her to cook breakfast without hindrance. She wasn’t sure what Bucky liked to eat, but hoped he’d appreciate a warm home cooked meal to make up for their rocky start the day before. Upon further inspection, she found the kitchen and accompanying pantry fully stocked with everything she’d need to cook breakfast for her and Bucky. She set her Rainy Day Playlist on shuffle and got to work.

When Bucky finally made his way downstairs about two hours later, Aceline was pulling a tray stacked with waffles out of the oven here she’d placed them to stay warm. The dining table had been set with plates, bowls, glasses of orange juice, and silverware. Aceline walked over with the platter of waffles, and Bucky’s stomach grumbled. She turned to face him with a gentle smile.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said warmly. “I figured it’s the least I could do after yesterday.”

Bucky remained silent. He sat down at the table and waited, unsure of how to approach Aceline. He thought back to his conversation with Steve the night before; he’d been right about one thing, Aceline certainly wasn’t Charlotte.

“I know you said we have to go talk to your boss today, but I thought we could both use a bit of a break from all the madness. At least for a couple hours?” She sat down across from him and played a few waffles, then held the dish out for him to take. She looked a lot different now than she had when he’d checked on her eight hours before. It was as if the nightmare hadn’t even fazed her.

Bucky cleared his throat, he took the plate from her with a polite nod of his head. “Actually, we’ve been excused from the meeting this morning, Steve will give us the details later. Do you have everything you need? Or is there anything you’d like to go out and get? We’ll be staying here a while.”

He was trying, and Aceline appreciated that. She sat quietly for a few minutes, thinking. Was this really the same agent who’d given her a harsh set of rules and stern talking to? She thought she’d have to work a lot harder than a nice breakfast to get him to agree to let her out of the cabin for a few hours. Whatever Steve had said to him seemed to be working, and she certainly wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She took a small sip of orange juice, and nodded. “I could use a few more things. I wasn’t really given much warning, just told to pack a bag and be ready by the time Agent Rogers got to my house.”

“There’s a store in town that should have whatever you forgot to bring. Take as much time as you need, we’ll go when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Thank you, Agent Barnes.”

They finished eating in silence. When they were done, Bucky offered to clean up while Aceline went to get ready. He hadn’t expected to receive breakfast and good company when he woke up that morning. Bucky hadn’t expected his opinion of Aceline to shift so suddenly either, he went from feeling like he’d been employed as her babysitter to wondering how she wasn’t a lot more freaked out over the situation than she seemed.

He was putting the last of the dishes away when she returned. She stood at the island, staring at his back as he dried the remaining plates.

“I can finish that if you’d like to grab your things,” Aceline said quietly. She set her purse down on the counter and went to his side. He handed her the dish towel, and turned to leave the kitchen.

+

The drive into town was long, filled with awkward silences Bucky wasn’t sure how to break.

He pulled the SUV to a stop outside of a small shop about 20 miles from the cabin. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but he knew he needed to do something to make up for how he’d been treating her.

He reached into the center console and pulled out the handgun he kept there, his badge, and his cellphone. He grabbed something else from the console and held his hand out to her. “Let me see your phone.”

“My phone? What for?” She asked defiantly, but handed it over with one stern look from Bucky. She watched him fiddle with it for a couple seconds, then took it back when he was done. “What’d you do?”

He held his phone up so she could see the screen. “Tracking app, leave your phone on. If we get separated, meet me back here. After 15 minutes if you don’t show up, I’ll come find you.”

They got out of the car and went inside. The shop was small, but packed. They’d be able to blend in easily, but Bucky wasn’t willing to leave anything to chance. He wasn’t going to have another Charlotte… Bucky shook his head, cleared it of all thoughts of previous cases, and put on the first smile Aceline had seen in 24 hours.

He greeted the shop owner as they entered. “Morning, Grace.”

Grace smiled. “Morning, James. Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know—same old, same old, Grace. How about you? How’s Walter?” Bucky leaned against the counter, slipping into a comfortable conversation with Grace.

Aceline stood back and watched the two interact. The Bucky she was seeing now, was vastly different than the one she’d met previously. He’d let his guard down, he was talking and laughing like he hadn’t a care in the world. Here, he was a normal civilian instead of an uptight secret agent. Here, Bucky had personality and manners. She noted the way his eyes lit up as he smiled; a blue so rich and dark that it was like looking at the night sky or the ocean in his eyes. This was a side of Bucky she didn’t know he possessed.

“Hey, Ace, come here a minute.” Bucky held his arm out to her, waiting. When she stepped over to his side, he pulled her against him. His hand rested protectively on her hip, she tensed up next to him. He sensed her discomfort and leaned in close. “The man who came in behind us has been eyeing you up and down for the last 10 minutes. Relax, stay calm and follow my lead.”

Aceline slightly relaxed into Bucky’s hold, and laid her head on his shoulder. Grace smiled at her from behind the counter.

“And who’s this?” Grace asked cheerily.

“Oh, right. Forgive me, ladies. Grace, this is my fiancée, Aceline Marcure. Ace, this is Grace Richards, she owns the shop,” Bucky said breezily. He gently squeezed her hip, folding her into his side. He pressed a soft kiss into Aceline’s hair and turned back to Grace. “What was it you were saying you wanted to try and find, babe?”

Aceline hummed. “Oh, I was hoping to find nice candles for the centerpieces. We discussed gold holders, if possible.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how, but in that moment Aceline seemed so much stronger than he’d previously given her credit for. She’d adapted to change in situation without hesitation or panic, she’d put her trust in Bucky as quickly as he’d had to put his faith in her. He turned to place another kiss against her temple, and smiled up at Grace. If every encounter they had in public went this smooth, Bucky was certain Aceline would make it out of this alive.

—————

A/N: I’m so glad this is finally ready! I had so much fun writing this for you, Kansas. I hope you love it as much as I do!

I decided to make this into a series, even though this initial post is for your commission--the whole series will be for your commission! I can only hope that it lives up to the hype.

Commissions are open and can be paid for via my ko-fi page.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged. Remember to like, comment, and reblog if you loved it!

Thank you for your continuous support!

-Auri <3

Till The End of All Things (main taglist):

@arrowsandmixtapes @pinknerdpanda

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 127

127

Sitting on Shiro’s bed beside his brother, Keith felt devastated all over again. Yes, Shiro could confirm that he had been held with Lance, and that Lance was doing relatively okayish all things considered, but that was it. He couldn’t explain why they’d been returned in one piece, or how. No one had any of the goddamn answers he needed, and now Shiro was as helpless as him given both their boyfriends were missing.

Describing the cell they’d been held in, Shiro remembered a fair deal, even able to sketch out the rough details of the room on the iPad Coran have given him. He’d said Lance hadn’t given up wanting to get out and get back to him. His idiot boyfriend more concerned about what Keith was going through than his own situation. It was so Lance that his chest ached. Hearing that Shiro and the others had been used as a distraction, made Keith feel utterly stupid for not taking Lance with him. He felt so fucking useless he couldn’t bring himself to contribute to the conversation. Seeing Rieva and Matt reunite stung. The couple nuzzling into each other as they peppered kissed between assuring each other they were okay. That Rieva would be shot when the others came back without a scratch made no sense in any sane world. At least he wasn’t Sam. Colleen had ripped the older man a new one for making her worry, Sam sheepishly apologising, though he wasn’t in any way to blame.

On Shiro’s other side sat Krolia, a down little towards Shiro’s knee, rather than up at his side like Keith was. Shiro hadn’t let go of his hand since his grey eyes had fluttered open. Keith knew his brother needed the physical contact as much as he did. The trace evidence had been processed and passed onto Kolivan and the other Blades for processing. Meaning he was once again useless. This feeling fucking sucked. Before Lance he’d never known love the way he did now. His heart all broken, barely held together by the lingering thoughts of his beloved boyfriend... His brother, the ever workaholic, wanted to watch Lance’s abduction video for himself. Keith didn’t think he was strong enough to watch it again.

Knowing Lance was out there trying to get back to him only drove him to want to start working everything over from the top again, despite knowing there wasn’t some magical clue to find. He hated to admit it, but maybe this time Lance would have to save himself. Maybe this time all those promises would be broken and he’d never see Lance again... Maybe if he hadn’t been so goddamn stupid he wouldn’t have lost the love of his life, and be left almost all alone again with his family... but this was different now. He’d let down everyone in the room by losing Lance... like... like he’d let down his father by not being there in his final moments.

“Keith, you need to calm your breathing down, kiddo”

He was working himself up too much. He needed to sleep but just couldn’t

“Sorry...”

“We’re going to figure this out”

“How!? He’s still missing! Curtis is still missing!”

A sleepy Keith could be a very cranky Keith

“And we’ll work this out. You’re not going through this alone. We’re all here and we’re a team, kiddo”

He knew that. He just... he wanted to hear them blame him. To acknowledge this was all his fault. He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want them to blame the people who took Lance and Curtis without blaming him for letting it happen. Coran had expected something... they... they should have gone together as a group. They should have left earlier. He shouldn’t have spent the last time he had with Lance oiling and maintaining his blades. Miriam was now confined to resting there at VOLTRON because he’d let this happen. He couldn’t forgive himself. Not until he had Lance back in his arms and even then...

*

Lance eyed his new cell mates in suspicion. An invisible barrier between them and him and Curtis. Lotor had shown up and now he was here, and Lance didn’t know what to make of it. Matt, Shiro, and Sam had been taken away. Gas pouring down from the ceiling, knocking everyone except for him out. Then Lotor had been brought down. Acxa, Zethrid, and Ezor unconscious and traded for his three unconscious friends, Lance torn between rushing their captors and not placing the others in danger, and being confused as hell over why Lotor was being imprisoned when he was like a prince to the vampire community. Despite his usual bragging mouth, Lotor remained tight lipped. The scent of human blood clung to him, though the vampire didn’t seem to care. Then again, he wasn’t starving like Lance. Lance could see the way Lotor was shaking. Fists and jaw both clenched tightly. Whatever Lotor’s plan had been, things hadn’t gone the vampire’s way and Lotor was seething with fury. The questions Lance had for him couldn’t be voiced. He feared Lotor would snap, or his ego would make his head go fuzzy again. So instead, they watched each other like the two caged predators they were as their friends slept by their sides, Lance could only wait for the others to be returned, then they might finally have the numbers to turn the tide on this captivity thing.

Hours passed, Lance worn out from being on edge. This was the longest Lotor had kept his smart comments to himself. Lance wondering if the vampire was planning his escape, or simply not talking because he was sulking. It wasn’t until Curtis started stirring that he felt he could finally breathe easily. Rousing slowly, Curtis blinked up at him. Lance uncomfortable sitting in one spot so long that he’d moved Curtis to rest with his head in Lance’s lap. Sleeping gas was more effective on Curtis than Lance had thought it’d be. Curtis drooling enough that Lance was concerned he’d been going to drown on his own saliva. Groaning, Curtis went to sit up, Lance holding him down by the shoulder

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Take it easy”

“What... happened?”

“They gassed you guys... and took the others away. I’m sorry”

He should have fought their captors... or generally done something. Their friends still hadn’t been returned. Lance feared that they were doing horrible things to them... horrible things that they had planned for them. Curtis groaned again. Lance imagined he most probably had a headache from the gas

“How... long?”

“A few hours”

Lotor finally spoke. Lance jumping as he wondered if Lotor had been mad at him and that’s why he hadn’t spoken

“Lotor?”

“Your friends are gone. Thinking of them won’t change the situation”

“What do you mean they’re gone?!”

Lotor knew the whole time and was only saying this now?

“I mean they were traded as they were unnecessary objects”

His friends weren’t fucking objects! He... he was relying on them to come back. He didn’t know how to protect anyone! He wasn’t a master strategist! He was just a simple vampire who was near on starving. Growing at Lotor, his ego slipped, hand tightening on Curtis’s shoulder

“If that’s all you’ve got to say for yourself you can shut the hell up”

“I’m merely stating the obvious. Or did you perhaps think they’d return to save you?”

“What are you even doing here? Did you betray Allura?!”

Curtis groaned. Lance realising his nails had started piercing his friends skin. Quickly he released Curtis in shame

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“No... my head hurts... what do you mean Shiro’s gone?”

“I traded myself and my generals for your friends”

Lance scoffed

“Right. That’s why all of you are here. Sure”

“That little conniving bitch Narti sold me out for the promise of a pardon upon return. We’re being held until passage can be secured. It seems my mother is quite eager to set eyes on you”

A shudder ran down Lance’s spine. Honerva may want to see him, but he had zero rush to lay eyes on her. And what was this about Narti? She was silent, moody, sullen and judgemental. But she was supposed to be Lotor’s faithful little witch. His witches were under VOLTRON’s protection because they were with Lotor. Whatever she’d been offered had to be more than just a pardon... If anyone was going to betray Lotor, Lance would have had his money on Acxa ditching him first. She always seemed somewhat annoyed watching him... It went to show you never knew what people were really thinking... It also explained Lotor being in such a foul mood. He always got what he wanted. Lance expected him to be tucked away from all of this after all his preaching about Sendak being too dangerous. His pompous arse probably thought he could simply waltz in and demand their release or something equally egotistical.

So. Then what happened now? Lance knew where the gas release was, but that wouldn’t be any use against the vampires who’d brought Lotor down... Maybe Lotor had gone against Sendak? But then... then that would mean Shiro, Sam and Matt hadn’t been released. If Lance was in Sendak’s position, he wouldn’t have released a hunter. Shiro could have been a future bargaining chip. Then again, Sendak probably saw humans like cattle. So weak and insignificant that there was no point wasting resources on keeping them alive. Trying to objectify his friends left him mixed up inside. He didn’t want to think of them like that. The lives of his friends weren’t worthless. There was safety in numbers and now that number had been cut by three dependable people. Lance knew Zethrid and Ezor had helped Keith, but what would they make of the betrayal of their friend?

“Do not look so alarmed. If you obey, things will go much easier for you”

“Fuck you. Of course I’m going to worry about my friends”

“Really? I think you should be more concerned with yourself. You’re letting your true nature show. Have they not fed you?”

“No. They don’t feel us”

“Ah, then we are lucky we have humans here. You must be starved”

“Not so starved that I’d stoop to your level. And don’t act like you understand when you stink of human blood”

Lotor moved his hands, appearing to be examining them

“I had a small rat problem to deal with. That particular piece of vermin won’t be causing any more trouble. It had the nerve to betray me. The nerve to set us both us. It had this coming”

So Narti was dead. Dead and her blood was what clung to Lotor. How could he sit there so calmly? Did he really feel no remorse for taking Narti’s life? Once again, if he was Sendak, he would have imprisoned her. Tried to draw as much information from her as possible about VOLTRON. Did Lotor kill her to protect that information? Or did Lotor kill her to spare her what was to come? Why was he trying to justify death? There were other things he needed to know

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“I was asked to leave by Allura. I had grown rather fond of not being under the thumb of my father... but she wouldn’t listen objectively. She had no desire for me to stay any longer, and since you make for the most interesting of specimens, I decided I may as well be where the action is”

“Are you saying you did this for me?”

Lotor shrugged, a moment passing so long that Lance knew he wasn’t going to get an answer to that question. Like, if Lotor was trying to do a good thing, he could have at least said as much in his own way

“Then do you have some kind of plan?”

“Not to die. Though, I may face some backlash. Sendak was quite taken back to learn the true paternity of that child in your belly”

Lance opened his mouth to immediately deny what Lotor said, until it hit him and he promptly shut his mouth. Lotor had said “child” not “children”. Had Narti informed Sendak it was twins, the lie would have been found out the moment they examined him. They could test for paternity, but that would take time. If Sendak contacted Honerva and informed her, she may want evidence. She may also be more inclined to not hurt the baby if she thought it her grandchild. The thought of being held by Lotor sickened him. As did denying Keith was the father of their twins. He was proud to be Keith’s boyfriend. Lying brought time, but he wasn’t comfortable with at all. If Lotor was going to lie like that, he’d preferred the man said Matt, like their baby would some kind of vampire cross werewolf. Fucking Lotor.

Lotor raised his voice, confirming what they’d thought suspected over being monitored

“For now we should rest. I doubt my mother would be happy to hear of your treatment. You could lose the child without blood, and she would lose the chance to study you. I doubt anyone would wish to stand before Zarkon and have that conversation”

“You know I only drink from blood bags”

If they were listening, Lance wanted to make that very clear

“Because you’re weakling without the stomach for fresh blood. You’d be unstopped if you fed on fresh blood”

Hopefully their little “talk” had reached someone who’d bring him blood. Poor Curtis had to put up with two vampires now, and he didn’t want to vamp out on his friend. He’d sit and behave, then fuck Lotor, he was going to find a way to get him and Curtis free of this. He and the twins were getting back to Keith. He was going back to his boyfriend, no matter what it took to get back there.

[thehomierobbstark]

Eat Your Dinner

Requested by @ljstraightnochaser​!!

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

A/N: Lmaooooo ummmm I???? Don’t know what this is????? Like the warnings are at the bottom but like i don’t even know if this is a thing and if it is whats its called I literally just had a thought and this is the result anyway hi again you guys I got yelled at last time i posted so @l-auteuse​ heres your tag ma’am!! I literally have no explanation for this story but i hope yall enjoy it!!!  Imma go 🙈 in shame now bye.

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿.

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carpet was nice.  

Almost a little too nice, though, you thought as you eye the delicate fabric on the floor. It was a beautiful velvet red faux fur rug that laid underneath the glass dinner table, which gave a nice contrast against the dark hardwood flooring.

Erik was so extra for that.  You never thought you could meet a man who would be too bougie for even your taste, but here he was. Acting high siddity.

You snort at your own mental commentary, rolling your eyes at Erik’s home decor.  It catches the attention of the man in question, whose eyes glance away from the iPad he was holding to regard you.

“Something funny?”

Your face immediately drops from the small smirk it was holding, and you shake your head from side to side.

“Good, thats what I thought.  Now sit there and be quiet like the good girl you’re supposed to be.”  He brings the iPad back in front of his face, swiping the stylus across the screen as he starts typing again.

You whimper a little, lips quivering and poking out more than they already were.  This was the first time in the last 20 minutes he’d acknowledged your presence, but he was still being so cold and mean.  

You didn’t want to lose his attention now that you’d gotten it back, so you desperately scoot forward a little closer, trying to make eye contact again.

You even add a little shine to your eyes, looking up at him as innocently as you could.  

Eyes flicking from the screen, he narrows them at you testingly, and you can feel your metaphorical tail tuck between your legs as you shrink back, gulping and looking back down at the carpet.  

Erik shifts himself in his seat, biting his lip with a muffled groan.  You didn’t know it, but you had the cutest little pout of disappointment and frustration on your face that made him want to fuck the shit out of it.

He loved telling you no just so he could see that adorable look on your face, right before caving in and giving you whatever you wanted. His Precious Pouty Princess.

“Look at me babygirl.”

You eyes quickly spring back up to him, wide and hopeful.

“You want my attention?”

“Mmm-hm!” You hum, nodding your head eagerly.  Erik bites his lip, your wanton desperation making him hard.

“Alright, tell you what babygirl.  You eat all your dinner like a good girl, and Daddy will let you have dessert.  How does that sound?”

You nod your head again, wiggling around excitedly.

Pushing himself away from the table, he leans back in his chair, arching a brow at you with a grin.

“Well? Start eating.”

Taking a deep inhale through your nose, you move your head back, slowly letting Erik’s thick fat dick slide out of your throat.  You try to swallow some of the streams of saliva that trail from your lips as you fully release him, but you can’t, and they split, dripping down both his shaft and your chin.  

Finally able to fill your lungs with breath, you clear your throat, flexing your jaw and feeling around the inside of your mouth with your tongue.  

This was the longest you’d throat trained for him, having been on punishment since you got home for your bad behavior earlier.  Usually it was only 10 or 15 minutes you’d spend on your knees keeping his cock warm in your mouth, but this time it was a whole 45 minutes.

20 minutes for your brattiness, and an extra 5 for every time you talked back on the car ride home.

You don’t know when it happened, but you do know at some point in your punishment you’d lost your voice.

It was pretty safe to say you’d learned your lesson.

Pulling your lips into your mouth with a with a swift lick, you reach forward to pick up his heavy dick, smoothly working your hand up towards the tip.  You flick your wrist gently, careful not to tug too hard at his already soggy foreskin.

Returning your mouth to him, you poke out your tongue and flick at the base of his dick, stiffening it as you draw all the way to the top.  Encompassing the tip between your lips, you generously suck and slurp at his cock, savoring the taste of the salty precum leaking from his slit.  

You swallow it hungrily, twisting your hand and milking him as you spend a few more seconds there bobbing up and down.

Erik’s head falls back, the pupils of his eyes pointed somewhere in the back of his skull as he lets out a throaty groan.

The sound tickles at the nerves of your bud, and you squeeze your legs together to try and keep your own excitement at bay.

Like a vacuum seal, you hollow out your cheeks as you come back up, sucking at him tightly before freeing him from your mouth with a wet slurp.  

You look at his tip,  seeing it so swollen and red with arousal.  It almost looked was if it were crying, silky precum once again leaking out and down the length of his shaft and over your gripping fingers.

Leaning forward, you swipe your tongue over your thumb, cleaning it of the mess.  You peek up at Erik and see him staring down at you with a fierce intensity, desire written all over his face.

Biting your lip, you bring his dick to your lips, poking them out to place a soft kiss to his frenulum.  You keep eye contact as you bend down, sticking out your tongue to lap against the underside of his balls as you swallow them into your mouth.

Erik’s eyelids flutter at the feeling, and he can’t help but to close his eyes and let his head fall back again when you start to suck and massage his sac in your mouth.  

“Fuckkkk meeee.”  He moans, whimpering as you let them fall out of your mouth to make circles with your tongue at the skin of his taint before gobbling them back up.

Unbeknownst to him, all that time you’d spent on your knees with him in your mouth gave you the opportunity to get very creative with your plans of apologizing.  And since you weren’t able to use your voice, you had to make use of your mouth in other ways.

“Shiiiiit,”  He hisses and grips your head as you return your attention to his chocolate bar, pumping and twisting your hand around him vigorously as you chase it with your mouth, salivating around him greedily.

You reach with your other hand to push his shirt up and massage his stomach, loving the feeling of his keloids running across your palm as you rub his abs.

The sloppy degrading noises coming from your mouth wrapping around him made his muscles tense, and he clutches his hand in your hair tighter, making you moan out in delicious pain.

“It’s almost time for dessert babygirl. You ready?”  He can barely say the words in between his own groans, his wide eyes looking down at yours to let you know he’s about to burst.

You give an enthusiastic nod one more time, humming and whimpering sweetly for your treat.

He pulls you off of him all of a sudden, giving you three seconds to gather your breath before shoving you back down, holding your head in place as he fucks up into your mouth rough and quick.  

Your hands struggle to hold onto his thighs for leverage as he uses your mouth like a toy, praising you the entire time.

“Fuck, look at you princess.”

“You look so good with my dick down your throat, you know that?”

“Daddy gonna give you a reward. You did such a good job, I’m so proud of you baby.”

“You gonna swallow all this cum like a good little girl? Huh?”

With four more harsh pumps, he was balls deep down your throat, and you feel the first splash of cum hit the back of your throat.

Immediately swallowing, you nudge your head forward, burying your face into his crotch to get every single inch of him in your mouth.

He continues to shoot spurts of his load into you, and you focus on breathing through your nose, relaxing and opening up your throat as you let all his nut slide down it.

When you finally feel the need to swallow, you slowly come off of him inch by inch, guzzling down every drop of his seed and making sure not to let any of it go to waste.

You were so into finishing your mission you didn’t even realize Erik was whining and twitching, the stimulation of your tongue cleaning up and down his pole getting to be too much for him.

Needing to take back some control, he grips your throat, shoving your dangerous mouth away from him, and he bends down, putting his face in yours.

“Open.”

You smile, opening your mouth wide to show him your clean pink mouth, not a drop of white to found anywhere.  You even lift your tongue up to show him the underside.

He smirks at your cockiness, reaching down to pick you up and plop you into his lap, his mouth immediately attaching to yours.  

He kisses you deeply, exploring your mouth with his tongue in both gratitude and eroticism.  That mouth of yours was the best and worst thing about you, and he loved them both equally.

Finally pulling away from the heated make out session, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavy as he lets a lazy smile engulf his lips.

“You did a great job with your food, babygirl, I’m so proud of you.  Now let Daddy put his princess to bed.”

With one arm around your back, he lifts you up in his lap, angling himself before slowly letting you descend onto his soaked meaty member, the sound of your choked moan echoing through the house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: Smut, Cock Warming, Throat Training?? is that a thing? Daddy!Kink

[cathyparrlyn]

We’re all just mirror shards

_________________________________________________________

Hey everyone! It’s No One here, or perhaps you now know (if you have read a certain lovely, beautiful, baby tief’s post) that my name is Maddy. It’s great to finally post this next part, first update of 2020! Woo!....

Yeah, I know, it’s been a while. I’m sorry for that, but not only am I working on future chapters and a special writing project (some of you might have already heard about it, oops-), but like, school. Ugh. But don’t worry, I have plenty of content to give you guys, so I shouldn’t fall too behind with my updating schedule!

I want to shoutout two people today. First off, one of my writing friends, @justonemoretheatrekid who is super sweet and has helped me with my bi panic, so thanks friendo! I enjoyed chatting with you! :3

I also want to give a special thanks to another one of my writing friends, @toomanyfamdom for not only helping me edit this sucker (legit the only reason I was able to post today. Bless her soul for putting up with my comma crazy piece.), but also for being the sweetest and best baby in the world. She makes me a proud mama. :3 love you baby! And thank you for not joining in on the “(censored name) for the pole” chant. I know how much you like to troll me tho, so I guess will see what happens next time. Lol. <3

Also, good news and bad news! 

Good news! This chapter has the “read more” option! Bad News! It cost me all the pretty and colorful fonts. ;-; Also, it won’t let me edit my draft from my iPad now as I did the function on the computer. So like... I can’t fix it. :(

So now I have a dilemma. Which should I use, the read more function or the colorful and pretty fonts? Please reply down below if you have a preference. Anyways, enough with my long ass author note!

Without further interruption, the chapter! Woo!

Word count: about 2,212 words.

Warnings: Cursing, bullying. (Also, Anne being a useless lesbian gremlin and Cathy being a bi disaster. OWO UWU)

Enjoy~

————————————————————————————————

Part 11

Annie Boleyn

————————————————————————————————

…………………………………......Recap………………………………………

“Sorry about that, I’m just so fucking tired of bullshit,” Anne muttered, snapping Cathy out of her thoughts.

"Huh?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Cathy was a dumbass. She had to be. How else could she have fucked up so badly with her words? They were her thing! But with Anne, all she could muster up to say was ‘huh?’ Huh! Ugh, she just can’t with herself right now.

What’s worse, this is serious. Anne looks like she needs someone to talk to, Cathy can be that person, but not if she’s a disaster.

Parr wants to be there for Anne. She craves to develop their relationship, for them to get closer. To be able to share inside jokes and small smiles with each other. To have long conversations and calling each other late at night just to rant because they know the other will listen. For the comfort of knowing that she does, in fact, matter to Anne.

Right now she felt farther away from her goal than ever. Looking up, she saw an indescribable look on Anne’s face, the only thing she could note was the fear in Boleyn’s eyes as she held herself. An uneasy feeling washed over Anne as she realized she might have said too much around Cathy. She was nervous. Cathy couldn’t believe it. Anne was scared of her own opinion, and that worried Parr. Boleyn was speechless, not knowing how to respond. It was painful to see this side of her. Yet Cathy couldn’t help but stare. This new side drew her in, and Parr couldn’t stop herself from questioning more and more about who Anne really was. And what could have possibly happened to the Boleyn girl to make her feel so mortified that she couldn’t even express her own feelings.

Now Cathy was scared. She couldn’t just stand there and wait Anne recover on her own. No, Catherine wants to help her, she needs to help Anne.

So with a deep breath, Cathy had made her decision to keep moving forward with the conversation. She refused to make Anne start things, this time she’ll make the first move. For Anne’s sake.

“Hey, are you alright? I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”

“No, no. It’s stupid, just, please. Forget about it.”

Cathy felt as if she was stabbed in the heart after hearing that statement. Anne was amazing, smart, talented, and said some of the most interesting things Cathy has ever heard. And here she is now, saying that her feelings are stupid.

Cathy doesn’t know who made her feel like this, but they are going to pay for it. Yet, that is for another time, right now Cathy has to focus on comforting the Boleyn girl.

“Hey Anne, we’re friends right?”

“Well, yeah, I would like to think so.” Anne tentatively mumbled. She expressed a blatant insecurity that Parr would reject the idea. But why?

Parr wanted to further analyze this side of Anne and try to figure out what might have happened to her, but she couldn’t. Not right now, when Anne needed a friend. No, especially now since Anne needed a friend, someone to be there for her, to reassure her things were okay. That is what Parr needed to be right now. Her friend.

Cathy smiled, bumping their shoulders together. Hence, grabbing Anne’s attention as Parr stared at her with a look that Anne wasn’t used to seeing: patience and love. With a gentle squeeze reminding Anne of their connected hands, Cathy let the Boleyn girl bask in the show of affection. Anne deserves to enjoy this moment, to feel comfortable with her own thoughts. What’s more, she deserves to have someone to listen to her. Cathy can very well be that person. All Catherine had to do was prove that she would and could be there for her. So she spoke up, determined to help Anne no matter what it takes.

“Then there you go. Your opinion matters to me, Anne. As your friend, I don’t think this is stupid. Not one bit. So please, don’t feel afraid to talk to me. You have a wonderful voice, and I truly think it should be shared with the world.”

Cathy observed as Anne stared at her in shock. A blush formed on Parr’s cheeks as she noticed a sudden change in the Boleyn girl. Tension had quickly left Anne’s face and was now replaced by a small, soft, genuine, and breathtaking smile. Really, Cathy could go on about the beauty of Anne’s smile, but she was rather focused on something else. It was way more important than her feelings. Gratitude, that’s what Anne’s expression conveyed instead of the fearful look she wore mere seconds ago. Anne gently squeezed Cathy’s hand back, returning the affection as she pulled Cathy in so they could be in closer proximity. The action cause both girls heart to race as they were lost in the moment, staring at each other in a comfortable, knowing silence. Both were thinking the same thing.

She does see me.

Finally after taking a few deep breaths, Anne was the first one to break the silence.

“Thank you, that… that really means a lot Cathy.”

“Of course Anne. Do you, um... Do you want to talk about it?” Cathy gingerly asked.

Anne looked down as she contemplated what to do. After a few seconds of thinking it over, she slowly nodded her head.

“Alright, I’m here to listen whenever you ready.” Parr, acknowledging that she was looking down, squeezed Anne’s hand again. Cathy hopes it would reassure Boleyn that Parr planned on being there for her. Seeing that Anne had mustered up the courage to look up at Catherine and start her explanation, Cathy thinks it’s safe to say that it worked.

"Ok, so, our generation is stupid, right?” Anne started off.

“100% agree, continue please.”

“It’s just, no one cares about others' stories. Make believe or real, every story matters. Yet we cast them aside and hold an egocentric viewpoint that mentally and physically tears others down. And I’m so fucking sick of it!”

“Of the kids in the halls?” Cathy hesitantly asked.

“Of basically everyone! They all piss me off! Like, no one even understands why I read, the majority of those people don’t even think I can read! I’m nearly eighteen, for Christ's sake! How would I be in an advanced English class if I couldn’t read?”

“I don’t know, kids are stupid.”

“I know, but… you’re the first person to understand this and believe me…”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Anna won't shut up about how I can't do math, Kitty doesn't like poetry and always whines about me speaking ‘gibberish’ when I rant about it, and the rest of the school thinks I text shit like, 'dat waz fun' smiley face, winky face, kissy cat." Anne rolled her eyes. "It's just..." she pursed her lips, then looked at Cathy and gave her a small smile. "It hurts after a while, y’know. So it's extremely refreshing to finally talk to someone who appreciates writing."

"I totally get that." Cathy nodded.

"Really?" Anne stared at her as if she had two heads.

"Yeah... actually, at my last school, I was teased for reading so much," Cathy elaborated honestly. She doesn't know why, but she felt a need to tell Anne this. It was as if that Boleyn girl elicited a strong desire for Parr to talk about herself. She wanted to know all about Anne, and for Anne to know all about her.

Even if it was about her embarrassing loser past. It's not like she can escape it, only accept it and move forward.

"What the hell is wrong with this generation? That's stupid!" Anne groaned.

Well, at least Anne agreed with her about the matter.

"They called me novel nerd," Cathy bluntly stated.

"... Fucking Alliteration." Anne said after muttering what Cathy assumed was French swear words. She then pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah." Cathy bitterly laughed.

"Want me to fight them for you?" Anne offered, holding her fist up and pretending to punch the air to show she was being serious.

"No, but thanks... it's just like you said earlier, it's nice just to be comfortable enough to talk about these things with someone and know that they respect it." Cathy smiled at her.

Anne lifted Catherine's hand up a bit and gently stroked it.

"Cath, I got you." The gentle action caused Cathy to blush. Anne then looked up with a spark of mischief. "Let's run away to live in a library."

Cathy couldn't help but let out an unlady-like snort. A bit embarrassing, yes. But luckily for Catherine, Anne adored it. She couldn't stop herself from adoring it even if she tried.

"Sounds like heaven." Parr grinned, finally managing to calm her laughter.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds in silence, but after those few seconds of silence, they burst into a laughing fit.

Catherine then looked up at Anne. Something caught her attention about her suggestion. The way she referred to something, or rather, herself.

"Cath, Huh?" She raised an eyebrow, looking Anne over in a teasing manner.

It's time for some playful payback.

She noticed how Anne flinched, and for a quick second, looked embarrassed, but it quickly washed away and was replaced by her usual confident expression.

"Oh, yeah. I just think it's cute and, um, it suits you. Is it alright if I call you that?" Anne asked.

Cathy couldn't stop the dorky smile that was spread across her face. Just hearing Anne give her a nickname just like how she had given one to Katherine, warmed Cathy up inside. She was growing closer to Anne each second and her interest for the girl continued to grow.

"Sure, but only if I get to call you nicknames too!" She agreed.

"Go for it, you got two slots."

Catherine pondered for a second. What should she call her?

Catherine couldn't help but giggle at the first thought to come to mind.

"Okay, first one has to be gremlin."

Anne's smile dropped and her eyebrows furrowed.

"You know what Cath? Fuck you." She huffed, a small pout was plastered on her face. Ergo, causing Cathy to burst into a giggling fit.

After a few seconds of giggling and admiring Anne's pouty face, Cathy managed to calm down.

"Okay, um... Next is.... hm."

It took Cathy a few seconds as she looked Anne up and down. She didn't actually need to check the girl out, she just wanted an excuse too.

The action, however, had caused Anne to blush.

Then it hit Cathy. Her lips quirked up at the idea for what to call the Boleyn girl. Sure, it was simple, but so was Cathy. So it’s fine. No, Parr will do one better.

It was perfect.

"Annie," Catherine said, squeezing Anne's hand and beaming at her with a warm smile.

Anne's happy expression fell after hearing that. Cathy noticed the change in expression.

"Um, is everything alright?" She asked.

"H-huh? Oh, um, yeah. It's swell." Anne nervously looked away.

Cathy stared at her worried, but Anne refused to show any sign of pain. Instead, she just gave Cathy a fake smile and avoided eye contact.

There it is again. The change in expression, the change in tone, the change in the atmosphere around her. All of these changes thickened the air and added to the mystery of Anne Boleyn.

Who was she?

Just a second ago, she was all bubbly. But with just a single name, she instantly became a timid sheep. She wore nervous, wide eyes that were surveilling the surroundings as if she was watching out for a predator, fearing for her life. However, the only other person there was Cathy.

She did that. She did this to Anne Boleyn. She doesn't know how, nor why, but she did it. An god, did it feel awful.

Cathy could only do what she thought was right at the time, to check on the girl.

With a gentle squeeze initiated by Cathy, Anne's eyes slowly looked up. Her breathing was a little heavy and her face was a calm, serious. Cathy's anxiety grew with each lurid second passing. Finally, after making it all the way up the excruciating trail, Anne's eyes met Cathy's.

For a brief second Cathy swore she saw the corner of Anne's eyes filling up with tears, and her skin was slightly paler than usual.

But it disappeared in seconds as she hastily swapped her expressions, as if she was trying to hide something. She... she was trying to hide herself.

Anne had put back on her mask, yet it was too late.

Her perfect image had already broke in front of Cathy, not that she planned on telling Anne that.

So with a heavy sigh, Cathy acknowledge that she needed to do something.

"Anne I-"

"Stop it. There's no need for that." Anne interrupted her in a cold tone, yet she still had a "smile" plastered on her face.

"Huh?" Cathy looked at her confused.

"Really Cath, I'm fine." She muttered loud enough for Cathy to hear her.

Cathy knew that wasn't the case. It most certainly wasn't the case at all. Cathy wanted to convey to Anne that she knew this, and that she wanted to help her. She wanted to stop right there, tell Anne it's okay not to be okay, perhaps even give her a hug.

But she didn't know Anne. They weren't close. Anne said it herself, they just met recently. And although Cathy was connecting with her, Anne might not be as into it. She doesn't know. Boleyn is still a mystery to her, one she has yet to uncover.

So how could she break through Anne's mask? She didn't have the right because she doesn't know her. At least, she doesn't know her yet.

"Okay. If you say so...." she reluctantly dropped the subject.

Mark Cathy's words, she'll read Anne's backstory one day. Cathy might cry, she might laugh, hell, she might not know what to think. But she knows that she'll be there for Anne when the time comes.

Until that day comes, this is all she could do for now.

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