#or like even just the 2 days of work would suffice

[flux1563]

Best choice of my life ft tzuyu

Something new part 2

Words: 25k

The digital clock on the nightstand flickered to life, casting a blueish hue over the room. 6:00 AM. The time had come for him to rise and prepare for the day ahead. With a gentle sigh, her husband's eyes fluttered open, his gaze immediately finding hers in the dim light. He offered a sleepy smile, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. Tzuyu sat up in bed, the sheets slipping down to reveal the swells of her breasts. She returned his smile, trying to ignore the heaviness in her chest. "Already time to go to work?" Tzuyu ask. Her husband nodded and stretched, his muscular body flexing with the motion. "Yeah," he yawned. "Big meeting today. I'll be home as soon as I can." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

As he padded towards the bathroom, Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anxiety build within her. She quickly grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her thumbs flying over the screen. Her heart raced as she typed out the message to y/n: "I want to feel you again this time. Can I come to your house?" She hit send before she could talk herself out of it, her stomach flipping with anticipation. She watched her husband's back as he disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Y/n's response is swift: "Just come to my house, Tzuyu." The simplicity of his message sends a thrill down her spine. She knows she shouldn't, that it's wrong, but the memory of his touch is too potent to ignore. Her mind wanders to what she should wear, something that would drive him wild with desire. She opens her closet, her eyes scanning the rows of clothes. Her fingers glide over the fabric of her usual attire, but she knows none of it will suffice for what she has in mind. Instead, she reaches for the drawer at the bottom, where she keeps her secret collection of lingerie. Her heart races as she pulls out a sheer, black set. The lace is intricate, leaving nothing to the imagination. The thong is so thin it might as well not be there, and the bra is designed to expose her nipples, the fabric barely covering the sensitive peaks. Tzuyu's body flushes with excitement and nerves as she dresses in the seductive ensemble. She looks at herself in the mirror, her reflection looking like a stranger, a woman bold and hungry for desire. With one last, deep breath, she grabs an oversized hoodie from her husband's side of the closet to cover herself. The softness of the fabric feels like a comforting embrace, a stark contrast to the naughty secrets it conceals. The short walk to y/n's house feels like an eternity. Each step is a silent confession to the betrayal she's about to commit. Yet, the anticipation is intoxicating, making her heart race and her breath come in shallow pants. The early morning light casts long shadows across the lawn, and the dew on the grass feels like a kiss from the cool, indifferent world outside her tumultuous thoughts. She tries to calm herself, focusing on the familiar squeak of the gate and the comforting scent of her garden as she passes by.

When she reaches y/n's door, she takes one final, deep breath before raising her hand to knock. It's a soft sound, barely louder than the whisper of the wind through the leaves. Yet, almost immediately, she hears the sound of the lock turning, and the door swings open. He's waiting for her, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts that hang low on his hips, showcasing the trail of hair that leads down to the promise of his cock. His eyes widen with lust when he sees her, taking in the barely concealed allure of her attire. Before she can even say a word, he's on her, pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips in a kiss that's both fierce and passionate. His hands roam her body, tracing the curves of her waist and the swell of her hips. Tzuyu melts into the kiss, her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. It's as if her body has been waiting for this, craving the feel of his touch like a plant craves the sun. With a sudden jerk, y/n pulls her hoodie open, exposing her lingerie-clad breasts to the cool morning air. The contrast between the soft fabric and the roughness of his calloused hands sends a jolt of electricity through her, making her nipples peak into tight buds. He breaks the kiss to look down at her, his eyes dark with desire. "You came to me," he murmurs, his voice low and thick with need.

"Yeah," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I couldn't wait for you to take me again." His eyes flash with a primal hunger that makes her knees weak. Without warning, he rips her lingerie from her body, the fabric tearing like paper beneath his powerful grip. Tzuyu gasps, feeling the cold air against her bare pussy. He smirks at her, the sound echoing through the house like a declaration of his dominance. "If that's what you want, then that's what you'll get," he says, his voice a low growl. He grabs her by the waist and lifts her onto the kitchen counter, her legs wrapping around his hips. She gasps as she feels the tip of his cock, thick and insistent, press against her opening. Without further ado, he slams into her, his length filling her in one swift motion. The suddenness of it makes her eyes roll back in her head, a high-pitched moan escaping her lips. He doesn't stop, pounding into her with a ferocity that leaves her breathless. 

His grip on her hips is like iron, holding her in place as he claims her body without mercy. "Yeah, fuck my pussy like that," Tzuyu pants, her nails digging into his shoulders. The wetness she mentioned was indeed still present, a testament to the longing she'd felt for him since their last encounter. She could feel her juices coating his cock, making each stroke smoother, deeper. "You like that, don't you?" He grunts, his eyes dark with lust. "You want me to make you squirt again?" Tzuyu nods frantically, her pussy clenching around him in anticipation. She's never felt anything like this before, the feeling of his cock hitting all the right spots, the way her body responds so eagerly to his touch. She feels a familiar pressure building within her, and she knows she's close. "Ajh, yes, y/n, I'm going to squirt," she moans, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation. He quickens his pace, driving into her harder and faster, his grip on her hips tightening. The kitchen counter digs into her back, but she doesn't care. All that matters is the feeling of his cock inside her, the promise of the release that's just within reach.

Her pussy clenches around him, and suddenly, it's there. The intense pressure builds up, and then releases in a powerful spurt of liquid that soaks his cock and the counter beneath her. She throws her head back, her eyes squeezed shut as she rides the waves of pleasure that crash through her body. She feels it from her toes to her fingertips, a rush of euphoria that makes her tremble and shake uncontrollably. He watches her with a mix of amazement and hunger, his eyes never leaving her face as he continues to pound into her. "How long can I fuck you this day, Tzuyu?" he asks again, his voice strained with effort and desire. "Until 6 PM," she gasps, her voice barely a whisper. The thought sends a new wave of heat through her body, the anticipation of hours of passionate fucking making her pussy clench even tighter around his thick cock. Y/n smiles wickedly, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He glances at the clock on the kitchen wall, the hands pointing to the 7 AM position. "Eleven hours," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Eleven hours of pure pleasure, just for us." With surprising strength, he flips Tzuyu over onto her stomach, her legs dangling off the edge of the counter. He grips her hips, pulling her back so that her ass is in the air, her pussy wet and begging for his cock. The sudden change in position makes her gasp, her breasts pressing against the cool countertop. He doesn't miss a beat, lining himself up with her soaking wet entrance and sliding back in, filling her completely. Her moans echo through the kitchen as he starts to fuck her in standing doggy style, his powerful thrusts sending her hips slamming into the counter. She can feel the bruises forming, but the pain only adds to the intense pleasure that is consuming her. Each time he hits her g-spot, she squirts a little more, the wetness making his movements even smoother, even more delicious.

"Already squirting countless times, Tzuyu?" he says with a smug chuckle, his grip tightening on her hips. "It's only been a few minutes. You're going to be a mess by the time I'm through with you.". Tzuyu can't help the moan that escapes her as she nods, her voice strained with pleasure. "It's your fault," she whispers, her words barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. "Your cock is so good inside my pussy.". Y/n's smug grin widens, and he starts to fuck her harder, his movements more deliberate as he watches the pleasure wash over her face. She's lost in the sensation, her body responding to his every touch with a desperation that she's never felt before. "Beg for it," he growls, his voice low and commanding. "Beg for me to fill you up again." Tzuyu's eyes roll back in her head, and she can't help but whimper. "Please, y/n," she says, her voice needy. "Please, I need your baby in me." It's a heady feeling, saying the words out loud, and she feels a new wave of arousal crash over her. She's never talked like this before, but with him, it feels so right. He grabs her hand, interlocking their fingers behind her back, pulling her closer to him. His other hand snakes up to her hair, gripping it firmly as he fucks her even harder. The tug on her scalp sends a bolt of pleasure through her, making her toes curl. She moans loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet of the kitchen. "You're such a good slut," he whispers, his breath hot against her ear. "Ask for it."

Her eyes widen, the pain mixing with pleasure as she begs, "Please, y/n, fuck me harder. Make me squirt again." He obliges, his hand moving faster, his cock pounding into her with a ferocity that borders on brutal. She feels the pressure building inside her, her pussy clenching around him like a vice. And then it hits her, the most intense orgasm she's ever felt, her body shaking as she squirts all over the kitchen counter, soaking his hand and the floor beneath them. He groans with satisfaction, feeling her walls tighten around his cock, the sensation of her release pushing him closer to the edge. Without warning, he pulls out and spins her around, slamming her back against the fridge. His grip on her hand tightens as he pins it behind her back, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His other hand tangles in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, which he kisses hungrily, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. He enters her again, his movements now erratic, driven by his own need to release.

Tzuyu's eyes roll back as he fucks her relentlessly, his cock hitting that spot deep within her that sends waves of pleasure crashing through her body. She feels his desperation, his need to claim her fully, and it only serves to increase her own desire. Her body responds, her pussy clenching around him, begging for more. With a final, primal roar, y/n releases himself inside her, filling her to the brim with his hot, sticky cum. Tzuyu gasps, her body spasming with the force of her own orgasm, her walls milking him for every last drop. She feels him swell and pulse, his seed painting the walls of her pussy with his brand of ownership. For a moment, they stand there, chests heaving, bodies entwined. But the reality of their situation crashes down on her like a tidal wave. She's just cheated on her husband with her neighbor, a man she's known for years but never felt this intense connection with before. Her legs threaten to give out, and she's certain she would have fallen if not for his iron grip holding her upright.

"Is so good, y/n fuck," Tzuyu whispers with trembling voice, her eyes fluttering shut as the aftershocks of pleasure wash over her. Her words are a mix of English and her native language, a testament to the overwhelming nature of their encounter. She leans into him, her naked body pressing against his, desperate for his warmth and the illusion of safety that he provides. "You're amazing," he murmurs back, kissing the side of her neck gently. His voice is filled with genuine admiration and lust. He releases her hand, letting it fall to her side as he wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tightly as he slowly pulls out of her. The feeling of emptiness is stark, and she can't help but whine softly. He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down her spine.

They both take a moment to catch their breath, the only sound in the kitchen the ticking of the clock on the wall, a constant reminder of the time slipping away. Tzuyu opens her eyes to find y/n looking at her with a smug smile, his chest still heaving from exertion. "Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes searching hers for any signs of distress. She nods, still trying to process the intensity of what just happened. "Yes," she manages to murmur, though her voice is hoarse from the screams of passion. He releases her from his embrace, and she wobbles slightly, her legs still unsteady from the powerful climaxes. He chuckles again, and this time it's a gentle sound that doesn't make her want to run away. Guiding her to the living room, he pulls a soft blanket from the couch and wraps it around her shoulders, leading her to the plush cushions. They sit down, their bodies still touching, the heat between them palpable. "I don't usually do this," Tzuyu says, her voice still shaking. "But I couldn't resist you." Y/n nods, stroking her cheek gently. "I know. It's like we were made for each other." His words hang in the air, filled with an unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a one-time thing. They share a knowing look, their eyes locked in a silent promise of more to come.

"Are u want to take a rest first?" he asks, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine. She nods again, her body aching from the intense passion they've just shared. They move to the couch, the plush cushions a welcome respite from the hard kitchen counter. He settles her into his arms, the warmth of his bare skin a stark contrast to the chill in the air from the open refrigerator door. Tzuyu takes a moment to appreciate the sight of her sprawled across his couch, the blanket barely covering her splayed legs and the wetness between them. He traces a finger along her collarbone, watching as goosebumps rise along her skin. "No, just fuck me like a slut I am," she whispers, her voice needy and raw. He leans in, his breath hot on her ear as he says, "Are u sure? U can't take back what u say tzuyu." His words hang in the air, a challenge and a warning. She nods, eyes blazing with desire. "Yes," she murmurs, her voice thick with lust. "I want it all. Every part of you, every dirty word, every rough touch." He stands up, towering over her, his cock still hard and glistening with their combined juices. "Which room do you want me to fuck you, Tzuyu?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. She swallows hard, her heart racing. She's never been so brazen, but with his, she feels like she can be anyone, do anything.

"Maybe the work room first," she says, her voice low and sultry. "Fuck me above your desk." The thought sends a thrill through her body, a delicious mix of excitement and naughtiness that only fuels her desire. She watches as his eyes darken with lust, the challenge accepted. With surprising gentleness, he picks Tzuyu up, his arms cradling her against his chest as he carries her through the house. Her legs wrap around his waist, the blanket slipping away to expose her nakedness to the cool air. She nuzzles into his neck, her lips leaving a trail of kisses along his collarbone as he navigates the hallway. The anticipation builds with every step, her pussy clenching with need. He kicks the door to his work room open, the sound echoing through the house. The room is cluttered with paperwork and the faint scent of ink and leather, a stark contrast to the garden's serenity. He lowers her onto the sturdy desk, the wood cool against her skin. His eyes are dark with desire as he takes in the sight of her laid out before him, her legs open and welcoming.

"Fuckk, so wet and tight," he groans, the words escaping him like a prayer. Tzuyu feels a thrill at his crude language, the raw desire in his voice making her even wetter. He grabs her hips and aligns his cock with her entrance, his hands trembling with restraint. The moment he enters her, she feels the familiar rush of liquid heat, her pussy squirting around him like a fountain. It's a sensation she's never felt with anyone else, a testament to the intensity of their connection. His eyes widen with surprise before a smug smile plays on his lips. "You're just too much," he says, his voice thick with lust. He starts to thrust, his movements powerful and commanding. She gasps with each stroke, her body bouncing on the desk with the force of his passion. The room is filled with the sound of their slapping flesh, the occasional squeak of the chair, and their ragged breaths. She looks down to see his cock disappearing into her over and over again, her juices coating his shaft with every plunge.

"You're not ruining anything," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "You're just making it more interesting." He pulls out almost completely, only to slam back into her, making her cry out. His grip on her hips tightens, his nails digging into her skin as he finds a rhythm that makes her pussy pulse with each thrust. "Fuck, so fucking big," Tzuyu screams, her voice bouncing off the walls of the room. She can feel him filling her completely, his cock reaching places inside her that she didn't know existed. Each time he pulls out, she feels the emptiness keenly, only for it to be replaced with a wave of pleasure as he slams back in. "Yes, cum for me," she pants, her eyes fluttering shut as she feels the beginnings of another orgasm building deep within her. She can sense that he's close, his strokes becoming more erratic, his breathing more ragged. His hand snakes up to her throat, gripping it gently, and she moans, the sensation pushing her closer to the edge.

With a roar, y/n pulls out and sprays his cum across her face, painting it in thick ropes that cling to her skin. She opens her eyes, watching in fascination as he marks her, claiming her once again. The sight of his release on her face sends her over the edge, her pussy convulsing around emptiness as she squirts uncontrollably.

The room is a chaotic symphony of moans and wet sounds, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. His desk, once a bastion of order and productivity, is now a canvas of their desire, papers and files scattered haphazardly, drenched in the evidence of their passion. Her squirt covers the leather surface, pooling in the indentations of his chair, creating a mess that mirrors the tumult in her heart. Without a word, y/n picks her up, her legs still trembling from the intensity of their last encounter. His eyes burn with a primal hunger that makes her insides quiver.

He carries her to his bedroom, his strong arms a stark contrast to the softness of her curves. The room is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, the shadows playing across the walls like a silent film of their carnality. The bed is unmade, the sheets tangled from his last encounter with his right hand. He lays her down gently, his cock still rock-hard and glistening with their combined juices. She looks up at him, her eyes glazed over with lust, and straddles him. Her pussy is a slick, swollen mess, begging for more of his thick, delicious cock. He watches as she slides down onto him, her walls stretching to accommodate his girth.

"Ahh...fuck," she gasps, her nails digging into his shoulders as she feels him fill her completely. She starts to ride him, her movements erratic at first, a mix of pleasure and pain. His hands roam her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing her ass, his fingers leaving trails of fire in their wake. His cock hits all the right spots, and she feels herself spiraling towards another orgasm. "Your dick is everywhere," she cries out, her voice hoarse from the screams of ecstasy that have already left her throat. She's lost in a sea of sensation, her body moving on instinct as he takes her to new heights. Her pussy clenches around him, and she feels the warmth of her squirt, the liquid proof of her desire. He takes control, thrusting into her with a ferocity that steals her breath away. His strokes are deep and demanding, each one pushing her closer to the edge. "Cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel your sweet cunt milk my cock." Her eyes roll back in her head as she feels it building again, the pressure in her core threatening to explode. Her pussy clamps down on him, and she squirts uncontrollably, her juices coating his shaft and their skin. He doesn't let up, his rhythm never faltering as he continues to pound into her.

Finally, with a roar, he pulls out and covers her back in his cum, his seed spraying across her skin like a declaration of war. But it's not war she feels, it's a strange sense of belonging, of being claimed by this man who brings her such exquisite pain and pleasure. And just as she thinks she can't take anymore, he turns her onto her back and slams into her again, her legs splayed wide. His cock is a beast, demanding and relentless, and she's helpless to resist. Her pussy clenches around him, and she feels another orgasm building, her body a live wire ready to snap. He fucks her with a brutal efficiency, his eyes never leaving hers. She can see the darkness in them, the desire that fuels his every thrust. And she knows that she's just as lost in this as he is, her own needs driving her to match his ferocity. "Cum inside me," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "I want to feel you fill me up." He grunts, his strokes becoming more erratic as he gets closer to his own release. And when it hits him, it's like a dam bursting. He fills her with his cum, each spurt a hot, thick reminder of his power over her. Her pussy clenches around him, eagerly drinking him in.

They lay there, panting and spent, their bodies entwined. The world outside their bubble of passion doesn't exist, and she's never felt more alive. She knows that this is wrong, that she's playing with fire. But she can't help craving the burn.

"Again," she whispers, and he's only too happy to oblige. He rolls her onto her stomach, her breasts pressed into the damp pillow. His hand traces the curve of her ass before he slides into her from behind. Her pussy is still sore, but the pain only heightens the pleasure, making her squirt uncontrollably with every thrust. "Ahh, yes," she moans, her voice muffled by the pillow. "Your dick is so deep. " She can feel him stretching her, filling her completely. It's a sensation that's both terrifying and exhilarating, like riding a rollercoaster with no safety bars.

He fucks her with a fierce determination, his strokes deep and punishing. Each time he hits her g-spot, she feels her body shudder, her juices soaking the bed beneath them. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the room, a testament to their carnality. His grip on her hips tightens, and she knows he's close, his thrusts growing more erratic.

He pulls out, and before she can even register the loss, he's flipped her onto her back. He's still hard, his cock glistening with their combined arousal. He looms over her, his eyes dark with lust. "Look at me when I cum," he commands, and she can't help but obey.

He starts fucking her again, his strokes slower this time, more deliberate. She can feel him savoring every moment, every inch of her. His cock slides in and out of her, the friction setting her nerves alight. And then he explodes, his seed spraying her body like a fine mist. She can feel it on her face, her neck, her chest, a warm, sticky mess that only makes her want more.

They lay there for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the room. Then he leans in, kissing her softly, his cock still semi-hard between her legs. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice hoarse. Tzuyu opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. She can't find the words to respond, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She's torn between the guilt that weighs on her and the intense desire that still thrums through her body. "For what?" she finally asks, her voice a mere whisper. "For letting me be the one to give you what you truly crave," he says, his eyes searching hers. "For letting me be the one to make you squirt like a fountain."

The truth of his words hits her like a sledgehammer, and she feels a mix of shame and excitement. She's never felt so used, so owned. And she can't help but want more.

They move to the living room, the plush carpet beneath them a stark contrast to the harsh reality of their situation. He takes her from behind, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pulls her back onto his cock. She's so wet that he slides in effortlessly, filling her up in one swift motion. The couch cushions sink under their weight as he starts to pound into her, each thrust sending her body rocking forward.

The TV flickers in the background, the mundane sitcom playing out its canned laughter as Tzuyu's own cries of pleasure echo through the room. Her pussy is a river, gushing around him with every push, and she knows that the sound of their fucking is only adding to the illicitness of the moment. She can feel her orgasm building again, and she tries to fight it, to draw it out as long as possible.

He's relentless, his hips moving like a piston as he fucks her with a ferocity that borders on the violent. She's lost in the sensation, her body moving with his, her mind a blur of need and desire. And when she does finally come, it's like a dam bursting, her squirt soaking the carpet beneath her.

Yet he doesn't stop. If anything, his movements grow more intense, his grip on her hips tightening as he speeds up. He's like an animal in heat, his need for release all-consuming. And she's his prey, willingly offering herself up to his every whim. The sound of their skin slapping together fills the air, punctuated by her cries of pleasure. She can feel him swelling inside her, his cock thickening as he nears his climax. And when he does finally come, it's with a roar that shakes the walls. He pulls out and sprays his cum all over her, painting her back and ass with his seed.

The warmth of his semen on her skin is the final straw, sending her over the edge once again. Her pussy clenches and spasms around his cock, her squirt mixing with his cum to create a sticky mess that she knows will be impossible to clean up. As they lay there, panting and covered in each other's juices, she can't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. This is wrong, she knows it, but it feels so right. And as she looks over her shoulder at the man who has just claimed her in the most primal way possible, she knows she's in too deep to turn back now.

He scoops her up, his cock still hard and covered in their combined arousal. She wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her to the balcony, the cool air kissing their sweat-slicked skin. The lights from the sun cast a soft glow over, and she can see the silhouettes of people going about their evening routines, oblivious to the depraved acts unfolding in her neighbor's house. Her heart races at the thought of being caught, but it's the thrill of the risk that fuels her arousal. "What if someone sees us?" she gasps, her voice a mix of fear and excitement.

He smirks, placing her on the edge of the balcony railing, her legs draped over his broad shoulders. "Just hope there's no one watching," he says, the challenge in his tone making her stomach flip. His cock, still slick with her cum, slides back into her pussy, and she gasps as he starts to thrust again. Each movement sends her a little higher, the railing digging into her back as she holds onto the railing for dear life. "AHHHHHH..." she screams, the sound echoing through the night air. She can feel the cool breeze on her face, the stars above seeming to pulse in time with her heartbeat. The world outside fades away until all that exists is the feeling of his cock inside her, the way he fills her completely and owns her body. She's lost in a sea of pleasure, her moans and cries the only sound in the universe. Tzuyu's nails dig into the wood of the railing, leaving deep grooves as she tries to hold on. Each thrust from he sends her closer to the edge, not just of the balcony, but of sanity itself. "FUCK Y/N," she moans, her voice hoarse and desperate. She's never felt so alive, so wanted, so utterly consumed by another person's desire. Her orgasms come in waves now, crashing over her like the tide, leaving her gasping for air.

He grunts in response, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he pumps into her with increasing ferocity. His cock hits her g-spot with each stroke, and she can't help but scream his name as she feels another squirt building inside her. "Cum for me, baby," he whispers in her ear, his voice a dark promise. "Show me how much you love it." Her eyes squeeze shut as she feels the pressure building, the world around her fading away until all that exists is the sensation of his cock inside her, the warmth of the sun on her bare skin, and the sound of their bodies slapping together. The orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, and she squirts again, the warm liquid spilling over the railing and down into the garden below. She gasps for air, her entire body trembling with the force of it. "Look at that," y/n says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're like a fountain of pleasure." He pulls out of her, his cock glistening with their combined juices. He strokes himself, watching as the last drops of her cum fall to the ground. "The world will know," he says with a wicked smile. "They'll all know how much you love my cock”.Tzuyu gasps, trying to catch her breath, her legs still shaking from the intensity of her climaxes. She watches him with a mix of fear and desire, knowing that she's lost control, that she's become the slut he's always wanted her to be. And yet, she can't find it in herself to be ashamed. Every time he fills her, every time he makes her squirt, it's like he's filling a void she never knew existed.

Her eyes widen as he takes her hand, guiding her to the bedroom, his grip firm yet gentle. He lays her down on the bed, and she can't help but whimper as he climbs over her, his cock still rock hard. "Please," she whispers, "please fill me up."

Y/n grins, his eyes gleaming with lust. He lines up his cock with her entrance and pushes in, filling her to the brim. She gasps, her eyes rolling back in her head as she feels him stretch her open once more. He starts to fuck her slowly at first, drawing out her moans, her pussy still quivering from her previous orgasms. He picks up the pace, and she feels herself building again, her body responding to his every touch. She begs him to go harder, faster, to fill her up until she can't take anymore. He obliges, pounding into her with a ferocity that makes the bed shake. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by her desperate cries. Her orgasms come in waves, one after the other, each one more intense than the last. She can feel him swelling inside her, his cock pulsing with the promise of release. "Cum inside me," she whispers, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I want to feel your seed." His eyes narrow, and he gives one final, powerful thrust. With a roar, he empties himself into her, filling her womb with his hot, thick cum. She clenches around him, her body milking every last drop as she squirts uncontrollably. Her pussy spasms, gripping him tightly, and she arches her back, lost in the sensation of his seed flooding her.

For a moment, they lay there, panting, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. He pulls out, and she feels the warmth of his release spilling out of her, down her thighs. It's a messy, delicious mess, a testament to their carnality. She can't help but smile, even as guilt starts to creep in. This isn't who she is, but she can't deny the thrill of it all.

"Tzuyu, the next of tomorrow, I will go to the Maldives for two weeks" he says, his voice breaking the silence like a sledgehammer through glass. Her eyes widen, and she sits up, pushing her hair out of her face. "What?" she asks, not quite understanding what he means.

"I want you to come with me," he says, his eyes searching hers for a hint of what she's feeling. "I know it's sudden, but I can't bear the thought of being apart from you for so long."

Tzuyu's heart skips a beat at his words. She had never felt this way before, not even with her husband. The idea of being with him for two weeks, just the two of them, is both thrilling and terrifying. "But what about your job?" she asks, already knowing the answer. "I can work remotely," he says, his eyes never leaving hers. "All I need is you."

Tzuyu's cheeks burn with a mix of excitement and fear. "But what will I say to my husband?" she whispers, her voice trembling. "Tell him you're going on a gardening retreat," y/n suggests, his tone casual despite the gravity of his words. "You can say you need some time to yourself to focus on your hobby. He won't suspect a thing."

Tzuyu nods, her mind racing. It's a flimsy excuse, but desperation has a way of making the impossible seem doable. She looks up at y/n, her eyes filled with a mix of excitement and fear. "Okay," she whispers, her voice shaky. "But I need to make sure he believes me."

He leans in, his breath hot against her ear. "Just give him a little show," he murmurs. "Let him think you had the best sex of your life. He'll never question it." His words are a challenge, and she feels a thrill run through her body at the thought of deceiving her husband. It's wrong, but the temptation is too great. Tzuyu nods, her heart racing. "Okay," she whispers, the word hanging in the air like a declaration of war. She knows what she's agreeing to, but she can't bring herself to care. All that matters is the feeling of y/n's cock inside her, the way he makes her body sing with pleasure. She's addicted to it, and she's willing to do whatever it takes to get her fix.

He stands up, pulling her to her feet with him. "Let's go," he says, his voice gruff. "But remember, you're still my little slut." He grabs her by the arm and leads her out of the house, not bothering to dress her. She's naked and vulnerable, but she doesn't care. The thrill of being seen is a part of the game now, a part of the thrill. The short walk to her house feels like an eternity. Each step she takes is a silent confession of her infidelity, her bare feet leaving a trail of wetness on the ground. She can feel the cum trickling down her legs, and she knows that y/n is enjoying the sight of her vulnerability. His eyes are dark with lust, and she can see the smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at her. As they reach her door, he leans in and whispers in her ear, "Remember, this is our little secret." He kisses her, hard and possessive, leaving no doubt in her mind who she truly belongs to. His hand slides down to her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. "Now, go inside and get ready for your husband. I want you to think of me every time he touches you."

Tzuyu quickly dressed and returned home, her mind racing with thoughts of y/n's possessive words. She knew she had to clean up and compose herself before her husband returned. As she stepped into her bathroom, the smell of their combined lust still clung to her skin, a potent reminder of the carnality she had just indulged in. With trembling hands, she turned on the shower and stepped under the hot spray, the water washing away the evidence of her infidelity. She scrubbed herself clean, trying to erase the feeling of y/n's touch, but his presence remained, etched into her very soul.

With a deep sigh, she stepped out and dried herself off, feeling the lingering ache in her muscles and the sensitive throbbing of her pussy. She applied her makeup with meticulous care, painting a picture of innocence over her swollen lips and flushed cheeks. Her eyes held a secret, a glint of the depraved desires that now ruled her.

Choosing a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, Tzuyu slid it over her head. It was a deep crimson color, a stark contrast to the white dress she had worn earlier, symbolizing the shift in her nature. The fabric was soft and luxurious, whispering against her skin, a silent declaration of her sexual awakening. She knew that her husband would not suspect a thing, but the thrill of her secret made her pulse race. The dress ended just above her knees, leaving her long, slender legs bare. She slipped on a pair of matching heels, standing tall and confident, the woman she had always been, yet somehow changed. The neckline plunged low, revealing the swells of her breasts, a silent invitation to her husband to take her in his arms and claim her as his own. Yet, she knew that even as she presented herself to her husband, her thoughts would be consumed by the neighbor who had so thoroughly claimed her body and soul. As she made her way to the living room, Tzuyu felt a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. She knew she had to keep her secret, to hide the dark thrill that now consumed her. The house was quiet, the only sound the ticking of the clock, counting down to the moment her husband would walk through the door.

In those moments of solitude, she allowed herself to remember y/n's touch, his cock filling her up, his mouth on her neck. The guilt was a heavy weight in her stomach, but it was overshadowed by the desire to feel him inside her again. She took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside as the key turned in the lock. Her husband's footsteps echoed in the hallway, and she forced a smile to her lips, ready to play the role of the devoted wife once more. The door opened, and her husband walked in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice filled with love and admiration. She felt a pang of guilt, but also a thrill knowing that she had just come from the arms of another man.

Tzuyu stepped closer, her heart racing. "Thank you," she said, her voice a soft purr. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, and felt a shiver of anticipation. The taste of y/n was still on her, and she knew she had to be careful not to give herself away. But as she pulled away, she couldn't help but wonder if her husband would ever be able to satisfy her the way her neighbor had. The rest of the evening was a blur of forced intimacy and stolen glances. Dinner was a dance of deception, her husband's hand on her thigh sending shivers down her spine, but not the same as when y/n had claimed her earlier.

As the plates were cleared, Tzuyu leaned in, her eyes gleaming with a mischief that didn't quite reach her heart. "How about we have a little fun before bed?" she whispered, her voice low and seductive. She watched as his eyes lit up with excitement, oblivious to the dark desires that had been stirred within her. Her husband didn't need much convincing, his hand sliding up to cup her breast as they kissed, his tongue exploring her mouth. She responded mechanically, her body going through the motions of desire while her mind was elsewhere. In the bedroom, she undressed slowly, the crimson dress pooling around her ankles like a sea of forbidden passion. She felt his gaze on her, hungry and expectant, and she knew she had to perform. Their lovemaking was gentle, a stark contrast to the roughness she had experienced with y/n. His touches were tender, his kisses sweet, but they couldn't dull the ache inside her. She found herself imagining y/n's strong hands, his dominating presence, as her husband moved above her. She moaned and arched her back, trying to find the release she craved, but it remained elusive.

The act was a farce, a tragic play where she was the star, forced to hide her true desires. Yet she played her part well, her body responding to the familiar rhythm despite her heart's betrayal. She felt the beginnings of an orgasm, a pale shadow of the earth-shattering climaxes she had shared with her neighbor. She bit her lip, stifling a cry that was more frustration than pleasure. Afterwards, as her husband lay spent beside her, Tzuyu couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. She had once cherished these moments, but now they felt hollow. Her mind was a battlefield of guilt and lust, love and deceit, and she wasn't sure which side would emerge victorious. As the room grew quiet, she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. She had agreed to go to the Maldives with y/n, but the reality of her decision was now sinking in.

Summoning her courage, she turned to face her husband, her voice a whisper in the darkness. "I've been thinking," she began, her heart pounding in her chest. "I need some time for myself. A vacation, maybe two weeks?" Her husband stirred, his eyes half-open. "Two weeks?" he repeated, his voice thick with sleep. "Where do you want to go?". Tzuyu took a deep breath. "I thought maybe I could go to Maldives," she lied, her voice trembling slightly. "Just to clear my head and relax a bit."

He propped himself up on one elbow, studying her. "You sure you'll be okay?" he asked, concern etching lines on his forehead. "You've been so busy with the garden and work."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, forcing a smile. "It's just what I need." His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "If that's what you want," he said, his voice filled with love. "But don't overdo it."

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with relief. She had the green light for her illicit getaway, and she knew she had to use this opportunity wisely. The next few days passed in a blur of preparation and secrecy. She packed her bags, her mind racing with thoughts of what awaited her in the Maldives. Each item she placed in her suitcase felt like a piece of her soul being torn away from her husband and given to y/n. Yet she couldn't deny the excitement that bubbled up inside her. The anticipation of those two weeks of unbridled passion was a siren's song, luring her further into the depths of her own depravity.

When the day of her departure finally arrived, she kissed her husband goodbye, feeling the weight of her lie pressing down on her like a leaden blanket. "I love you," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection and a hint of sadness. He held her tightly. "I love you too," he said, his eyes searching hers for any sign of trouble. "Call me if you need anything, okay?"

With one last kiss, she stepped out of the door, her heart in her throat. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood that felt eerily deceptive. As she walked to y/n's house, her thoughts swirled like a tornado. Was she making a mistake? Could she really go through with this?

But when she saw his car parked out front, her doubts evaporated. He was waiting for her, a dark figure silhouetted against the early morning light. His eyes met hers, and she knew she had made her choice. With a final look back at her house, she stepped into the car, leaving her old life behind. The drive to the airport was tense, filled with unspoken words and heated glances. His hand found hers, and she felt a spark of electricity run through her body. It was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to him. The thought of two weeks of unbridled lust was intoxicating, and she was already drunk on the anticipation.

As they boarded the plane, she felt a sense of excitement that she hadn't felt in a long time. This was it, the start of her secret life. A life filled with passion, danger, and a love that she knew she could never confess. She was about to embark on a journey that would change her forever, and she couldn't wait to see where it would take her. The flight to the Maldives was long, but the anticipation kept her awake. Every bump of the plane brought her closer to y/n, and she found herself leaning into him, craving his touch. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his breath warm and tantalizing. His words painted a picture of what awaited her when they arrived at the homestay, and she couldn't help but let her imagination run wild.

"When we get there, Tzuyu," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down her spine, "you won't be able to wear a single fabric. You'll be mine, to do with as I please." His hand slid down to her thigh, his fingers tracing the line of her panties, and she couldn't help but gasp at the sudden intrusion. The promise in his eyes was clear: she would be his plaything, his personal sex doll to use and discard at his will. Her heart raced at the thought, a delicious blend of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She knew she should be scared, that this was wrong on so many levels, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to his touch. She was a moth to his flame, and she knew that she would burn if she got too close, but she couldn't resist the pull.

The homestay was more luxurious than she had ever imagined, a private villa on a secluded island, surrounded by crystal clear waters and lush vegetation. It was a paradise, and she knew that she was about to experience the kind of passion that most people only dreamed of. As they stepped into the villa, he grabbed her hand, pulling her into the bedroom. "Now," he said, his voice low and demanding. "Strip." She knew what was expected of her, and she didn't hesitate. Her clothes fell to the floor in a heap, leaving her naked and vulnerable before him. His eyes devoured her, and she felt a thrill of power knowing that she had this effect on him.

He approached her slowly, his own clothes disappearing piece by piece until he stood before her, his erection proud and thick. "Now let's go sleep first," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. It was clear that his idea of 'sleep' was anything but innocent. Tzuyu felt a thrill at his words, her body responding to his dominance in ways she hadn't thought possible. They climbed into the large, plush bed together, the softness enveloping them like a warm embrace. He pulled her into his arms, her back pressed against his chest as he spooned her, his cock nestling between her thighs. His breath was hot on her neck, and she shivered with anticipation. As they lay there, she felt a strange sense of peace. Despite the guilt and fear that plagued her, she knew that she had made the right choice. This was what she needed, what she craved. The gentle stroking of his fingers along her skin was like a balm to her soul, calming the storm of emotions that raged within her. She closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep in the safety of his arms.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of waves crashing against the shore outside their window. The room was bathed in soft, early morning light, and y/n's arms were still tight around her, his body spooning hers. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and she knew that he was already awake, waiting for her. Slowly, she rolled over to face him, his eyes opening to meet hers. They were filled with a gentle, almost tender expression that she had never seen before. He leaned in, his breath warm against her face, and kissed her softly. "Are you happy, Tzuyu?" he asked, his voice low and thick with sleep. The question hung in the air, and she felt a lump form in her throat. How could she answer that? Was she happy? She had a husband who loved her, a beautiful home, and a life that was the envy of many. Yet, here she was, in a foreign country, in the arms of a man who was not her husband, feeling more alive than she had in years. She looked into his eyes, searching for a hint of what he was truly feeling. The tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable, and she knew that he cared for her. But was it enough? Was this fleeting passion worth the risk of losing everything she had built with her husband? "I... I don't know," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I know that when I'm with you, I feel alive."

Y/n's smile grew, and he kissed her again, deeper this time. His hands roamed over her body, reawakening the desires that had kept her up half the night. "Good," he murmured against her lips. "Let's enjoy the beach from our terrace," he said, standing up and holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Tzuyu took it, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through her. She allowed him to lead her to the large, open-air balcony that faced the sea. The view was breathtaking, the sun rising over the water, casting a warm glow over the white sand and the palm trees that swayed gently in the breeze.

He handed her a glass filled with a fruity concoction, the aroma of tropical berries and mint filling her nose. "It's a Maldivian specialty," he said, watching as she took a sip. The drink was cool and refreshing, a perfect balance of sweetness and tartness that made her taste buds tingle. In his other hand, he held a plate piled high with breakfast: fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, fresh fruits, and a dollop of cream. "Thank you," Tzuyu said, her voice thick with emotion. The gesture was so simple, yet it felt like a declaration of his affection. They sat at the small table on the balcony, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore acting as a soothing backdrop to their conversation. They talked about everything: their hopes, their fears, their secrets. The air between them was charged with the electricity of their shared confessions, and she found herself opening up to him in ways she never had with her husband.

"When we arrived, you told me to always be naked," she said, looking down at her plate, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink. "Until now, you didn't tease me. What do you actually plan?" Y/n's eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, I plan to enjoy every moment with you, Tzuyu," he said, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone. "But I want us to savor this time together. To remember it for the rest of our lives." He took a sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his cup. "Life is not just about sex, as amazing as it is. It's about the connections we make, the experiences we share."

Her heart fluttered at his words. She had never heard anyone speak to her with such tenderness, such raw emotion. It was as if he saw right through her, into the very core of her soul. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice a whisper. He placed his hand over hers, his thumb brushing lightly against her knuckles. "I mean that I want to know you, Tzuyu," he said, his eyes searching hers. "Your thoughts, your dreams, what makes you happy, what makes you cry. I want to be the one who brings you pleasure, not just physically, but emotionally and mentally as well." The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. She had never expected their relationship to evolve into something so profound. Yet, as she looked into his eyes, she could see that he meant every word. She felt a warmth spread through her chest, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. "I... I want that too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They spent the rest of the morning exploring the island, hand in hand. The turquoise waters of the ocean sparkled in the sun, and the gentle breeze played with their hair. They talked and laughed, sharing stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. It was as if the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders, and she could breathe again. Tzuyu felt free, truly free for the first time in what felt like an eternity. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, they made their way back to the homestay, their stomachs rumbling with hunger. The scent of the sea lingered on their skin, a tantalizing reminder of their adventure. Inside, the room was cool and inviting, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the disheveled bed where their passions had unfolded earlier that morning.

Y/n pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss that spoke of love and passion intertwined. His mouth moved with purpose, his tongue exploring the depths of hers with a hunger that had only grown with time. The tender way his fingers traced the contours of her face made her heart flutter, a stark contrast to the fiery need that had driven their earlier encounters. Tzuyu's breath hitched as he gently guided her to the bed, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see the love and desire swirling within him, and it filled her with a warmth she had never known. His touch was like a balm to her soul, soothing the ache that had been festering since her wedding day. As they lay down, she felt the coolness of the sheets against her skin, a stark reminder of the heat that they had generated together. He took his time, his lips tracing a fiery path down her neck, across her collarbones, and finally reaching the swollen mounds of her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth before switching to the other, making her gasp with pleasure. His hands roamed her body, relearning every curve and dip, as if committing them to memory for the long nights when she wouldn't be by his side.

"Make me feel good, y/n," she begged, her voice a breathy whisper. "Please, suck my pussy until I can't stop squirting." Without a word, he complied, his eyes dark with desire as he positioned himself between her legs. He took a moment to admire her bare pussy, glistening with arousal, before lowering his head and pressing his mouth to her clit. Tzuyu's body arched off the bed as he began to suck and lick, his tongue flicking and swirling in a way that made her vision swim with pleasure. He was relentless, his mouth a vortex of sensation that she couldn't escape from, even if she wanted to. 

Her hips began to rock against his face, her movements growing more erratic as the tension built within her. The feeling was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that grew more intense with every passing moment. She could feel the beginnings of her squirt, the dam threatening to burst, and she knew that when it did, it would be a flood unlike anything she had ever experienced before. The first wave hit her like a surprise summer storm, her pussy gushing wetness into his mouth. He groaned, the vibration of his pleasure sending shockwaves through her body. She looked down at him, his eyes locked onto hers, and she felt a strange sense of power. Her body was responding to him in a way she had never thought possible, and she reveled in it.

As her orgasm subsided, y/n didn't stop. He continued to stroke his cock, the sound of his hand moving up and down his shaft a rhythmic counterpoint to the soft cries of pleasure that escaped her lips. His eyes never left hers, and she felt a strange sense of vulnerability in that moment. He knew her body better than anyone else, and the thought made her pussy clench around his tongue. He pulled away, and she felt the cool air of the room kiss her sensitive flesh. His hand was a blur as he stroked himself, the head of his cock shiny with pre-cum. She watched, mesmerized, as he brought himself closer to the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sight of his barely contained desire was intoxicating, and she found herself eager for what was to come.

"Do you want it?" he growled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Do you want to feel me inside you again?" Tzuyu nodded, unable to form the words that would express the intensity of her need. She watched as he began to stroke his cock, the motion of his hand a mesmerizing dance that had her pussy pulsing with anticipation. He stood up, his erection bobbing with every step as he approached her. The head of his cock was a deep shade of red, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

Without a word, he leaned in and placed the tip of his cock at her entrance, the precum glistening in the soft light. He pushed in slowly, savoring every inch of her, making sure she felt every part of him. Tzuyu moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his girth. It was as if her pussy had been made for him, a perfect fit that sent sparks of pleasure through her with every movement. Their bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion that resonated through the quiet room. Her walls clenched around him, begging for more as he thrust deeper, filling her completely. The sound of their flesh slapping together was a sweet music that only they could hear, a testament to their illicit bond. The scent of their desire filled the air, a heady aroma that made them both drunk with lust. 

Tzuyu felt so loved in that moment, the sex was different from what they had experienced before. It was no longer just about the raw, animalistic need to be filled. There was a tenderness in his touch that she hadn't felt previously, a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. His kisses were no longer just about claiming her, but about expressing the depth of his feelings. It was as if the walls between them had crumbled, and she could feel the love that had been simmering beneath the surface all along. As they lay on the bed, their bodies entwined, she watched him with a newfound admiration. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she felt the same way he did. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, words that seemed to hold the power to heal her soul. The passion grew with every breath they shared, and she felt herself climbing to a peak that she had never reached before. Tzuyu's body arched as y/n's cock slid in and out of her, their movements slow and deliberate. He knew her body like a maestro knew their instrument, playing her to perfection. She felt the pressure building, the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around his shaft. And then, it happened. The dam broke, and she squirted again, her juices soaking the bed beneath them. The intensity of her orgasm took her by surprise, and she screamed his name into the quiet night.

Y/n felt her pussy contract around him, the warmth of her squirt enveloping him, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He had never felt so connected to someone, so in sync with their desires. As she came down from her climax, her eyes searched his, and he knew that she felt it too. The bond between them was unbreakable, forged in passion and desire. He continued to move inside her, the sound of her squirt mixing with the slap of their skin. With each stroke, Tzuyu felt herself falling deeper into the abyss of pleasure. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was alive, singing with the sweet agony of ecstasy. Her pussy was still spasming, trying to milk every last drop of cum from him, even though he hadn't come yet. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced with her husband, and she couldn't help but crave more of it. Y/n's cock was like a living, breathing entity, a beast that demanded her full attention. Each time he pushed into her, she felt like she was being claimed, owned. His eyes never left hers, and she saw the same hunger reflected in their depths. The connection between them was palpable, a live wire that sizzled and crackled with each touch. Tzuyu's pussy clenched around him, desperate for release. She felt the pressure building, a dam ready to burst. "Again," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her screams. "Make me squirt again." Y/n grinned, feeling the challenge in her words. He knew her body better than she did, and he was eager to push her to new heights of pleasure. He picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of her with ease, the squelching sounds of their lovemaking echoing through the quiet room.

Tzuyu's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt the familiar sensation building within her. Her body tensed, her muscles tightening as she approached the edge. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice barely audible. "I'm going to squirt again." Y/n's grin grew wider, his strokes becoming more forceful. He could feel her pussy tightening around his cock, the walls contracting in anticipation of her release. He knew she was close, and the thought of her squirting all over him again was driving him wild. He thrust deeper, his own need for release growing with every passing second.

The pressure inside Tzuyu was unbearable, a dam ready to burst. With a guttural cry, she squirted again, her pussy spasming around his cock. The warmth of her juices coated his shaft, sending him spiraling into his own climax. He roared, his hips jerking as he pumped his hot cum into her, filling her to the brim. They both stilled, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their bodies entwined in a sticky mess of sweat and cum.

Y/n leaned down, kissing her cheeks and forehead with gentle reverence. The tender gesture was a stark contrast to the brutal passion that had just taken place. His kisses were like a balm to her soul, soothing the guilt that had been gnawing at her. He looked into her eyes, and she saw a mix of satisfaction and something else, something deeper, something that made her heart clench in her chest. Tzuyu felt a single tear slip down her cheek. The emotions that were swirling within her were too much to contain. She had never felt so alive, so desired, so...free. His thumb brushed away the tear, his gaze never leaving hers. "What's wrong?" he murmured, his voice filled with concern.

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice shaking with a mix of love and lust. "It's just...you make me feel so much, y/n. More than I ever thought was possible." Her eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what he was feeling. Was it just lust, or was there something more? He pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her in a warm embrace. "You make me feel alive, Tzuyu," he said, his voice low and sincere. "I've never felt this way before." His words echoed through her, filling her with a warmth that seemed to melt away the last of her inhibitions. She leaned into him, her body fitting perfectly against his, as if they had been made for each other. Their breathing grew synchronized, and the sound of the waves outside the window became a lullaby that soothed them into a deep sleep. The room was filled with the sweet scent of their love making, a potent reminder of the passion they had shared. In the quiet, Tzuyu felt safe, protected by the very arms that had brought her such pleasure.

As they lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the lines between reality and dreams began to blur. Her mind drifted to the life she had left behind, the quiet mornings in her garden, and the comforting warmth of her husband's arms. Yet, here she was, nestled against the very man she had been warned about, her neighbor whose intentions were anything but neighborly. Y/n's chest rose and fell rhythmically, his heartbeat a steady drum beneath her ear. His arms were strong and warm, holding her close as if she might slip away at any moment. Tzuyu felt a pang of guilt at the thought of her husband, but it was quickly drowned out by the delicious feeling of y/n's skin against hers, the memory of his cock still pulsing inside her.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room grew dark, but the heat between them remained a constant presence. "Good morning, beautiful," He murmured into her hair, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrated through her body. The scent of sizzling bacon filled the room, a welcome intrusion on the cocoon of sleep that had wrapped around them. Tzuyu stirred, her eyes slowly opening to see y/n standing in the kitchen, already dressed in a simple white tee and shorts. She watched him move around the kitchen with the grace of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His muscles flexed and relaxed as he cooked, a silent dance that was as mesmerizing as the passion they had shared just hours before.

"Good morning," she murmured, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. Y/n glanced over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "Morning, beautiful," he replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I hope you're hungry. I've made your favorite breakfast."

Tzuyu felt a rush of affection as she sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. "You take care of me so well," she said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. It was true; y/n had a way of making her feel cherished, even in the simplest of gestures. He had seen to her every need, both in the bedroom and out of it, and it was a stark contrast to the loveless routine she endured back home. As she slid out of bed, her eyes caught the time on the clock. "My husband always busy for his work," she said with a sigh, the weight of her words sinking into the quiet of the room. Her thoughts drifted to her husband, a man who had once been her rock, now a distant figure consumed by his career.

They enjoyed a leisurely breakfast, the sound of their laughter mingling with the clinking of cutlery. The taste of the crispy bacon and the sweetness of the pineapple juice seemed to amplify the joy bubbling within her. Y/n's eyes never left hers, his gaze a silent promise of the passion they had shared and the secrets they now kept together. After they had finished eating, they decided to take advantage of the Maldivian sunshine. They ventured out to the beach, where they set up a makeshift volleyball net with the ease of two people who had done this countless times before. The sand was hot against her skin, but Tzuyu didn't care. Each step she took was lighter than the last, as if the weight of her guilt had been washed away by the salty ocean air. Their games grew increasingly playful, the ball often forgotten as they chased each other around the beach, their laughter echoing across the shoreline. The warmth of the sun kissed her skin, and she felt alive, more alive than she had in years. Y/n's touch was like a brand, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched her, a stark reminder of the intensity of their connection.

As the sun reached its zenith, they retreated to the shade of the palm trees, their bodies sticky with sweat and saltwater. They talked for hours, sharing stories from their past and dreams for their future. For the first time, Tzuyu felt truly seen and understood. His every word was a balm to her soul, soothing the wounds that her marriage had left behind. Their conversation grew quiet as they lay there, the gentle lull of the waves providing the perfect backdrop for their shared silence. Tzuyu felt a warm hand slip into hers, and she looked up to find y/n's eyes on her, filled with a tenderness that made her heart ache. The rest of the day was a blur of laughter and exploration, their connection growing stronger with every shared smile and touch. They swam in the crystal-clear waters, the fish darting around them like living jewels, and Tzuyu felt a sense of freedom she had long ago forgotten.

As the sun began to set, casting the sky in a symphony of pinks and oranges, they returned to their homestay, their bodies exhausted but their spirits soaring. They showered together, the water cascading over their entwined forms as they washed away the remnants of the day's adventures. Their night was spent in each other's arms, their bodies moving in a dance as old as time. The guilt had receded to the back of her mind, replaced by the all-consuming need for his touch. His cock filled her once again, stretching her to the limits of pleasure and pain, making her squirt uncontrollably. Each thrust was a declaration of his ownership, and she reveled in it, her cries of ecstasy a testament to their shared passion.

Their bodies finally stilled, their hearts pounding in unison. Tzuyu looked into y/n's eyes and knew she was lost to him, body and soul. Her marriage was a fading memory, replaced by the vibrant reality of their affair. As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, she knew she had made her choice. The question now was how she would face the consequences when she returned home. But for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his heartbeat, and the feeling of his seed still warm inside her. Their days in the Maldives were numbered, but their bond was unbreakable, forged in the heat of passion and tempered by the salty sea air. As they drifted off to sleep, she whispered the words she had been too scared to say aloud. "I love you, y/n." His reply was a gentle kiss on her forehead. "And I love you, Tzuyu." It was a simple declaration, but it held the weight of the world. They had crossed the point of no return, and she knew that she would never be the same again. The quiet night outside their window held the promise of tomorrow, and all the secrets it would bring. They decided to watch a movie, a romantic film that mirrored the tumultuous emotions swirling within them. As the plot unfolded, their eyes remained locked, the unspoken understanding between them speaking louder than any words on the screen. His arm was around her, her head resting on his chest, and she could feel the steady thump of his heart. It was a comforting rhythm that seemed to sync with her own erratic beat. The movie's soundtrack swelled, and Tzuyu felt the warmth of his breath against her ear as he whispered sweet nothings, his voice a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine. She was lost in the moment, her hand playing idly with the soft hairs on his chest as she listened to the soothing lilt of his voice. It was a stark contrast to the silence she had grown accustomed to in her own home, and she found herself craving more of it. As the credits rolled, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV, casting flickering shadows across their entwined bodies. Without a word, y/n turned off the screen, and the darkness wrapped around them like a velvet blanket. She could hear the gentle crash of the waves outside, a lullaby that sang of passion and freedom.

Tzuyu shifted in his arms, her head resting on his bare chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong, a comforting rhythm that seemed to sync with the ebb and flow of the ocean. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the day's events pressing down on her eyelids. Her body was sated, her mind a whirlwind of emotions that she didn't dare untangle just yet. With a gentle sigh, y/n lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if they belonged there. He carried her through the villa, their steps silent on the cool marble floor. The moon cast a soft glow through the windows, painting the room in a palette of blues and grays. The air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking, a heady mix of sweat and desire that clung to their skin like a second skin. He laid her down on the bed with the same care that he had shown in her garden, his movements smooth and precise. She curled into him, her body fitting against his like a perfect puzzle piece. His arms wrapped around her, cradling her to his chest as if she was the most precious thing in the world. For a moment, she felt like she could stay in this cocoon forever, protected from the storm that was brewing outside.

The next few days were a blur of passion, laughter, and stolen moments. They explored the island with a hunger that went beyond the scenic beauty that surrounded them. Each glance, each touch, was a silent promise of the nights to come. Y/n treated her like a queen, ensuring she was pampered from dawn to dusk. He took her to the best restaurants, where they feasted on exotic foods that danced on her tongue, and he whispered sweet nothings that made her heart flutter like a caged bird. 

In the afternoons, they would retreat to the villa, where the air was charged with a tension that could only be relieved by the fiery kisses and desperate embraces that led them back to the bedroom. He would take his time with her, exploring every inch of her body as if it was the first time, making her squirt with every stroke of his tongue and every thrust of his cock. Her screams of pleasure echoed through the walls, a siren's call that seemed to beckon the very ocean to their doorstep.

And when the nights fell, they would make love with a fervor that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Each orgasm was a declaration of their love, a secret shared only between them. He whispered sweet promises into her ear, and she clung to him as if he was her lifeline, her only source of oxygen in the vast sea of her own desires. The vacation was not just about fun and lust; it was about finding a part of herself that she had buried deep within, a part that only y/n had the power to unleash.

But with each day that passed, the shadow of their impending separation grew longer. The laughter grew a little less genuine, the kisses a little more desperate. They both knew that the end was approaching, and yet, neither of them dared to speak of it. Instead, they filled their days with a passion that was as intense as it was bittersweet, trying to memorize every moment, every sensation, as if it could somehow preserve the magic of their time together.

On their last night, they stood on the balcony, holding each other tightly as the waves crashed against the shore. The moon was a silver sliver in the sky, casting a gossamer veil over the world below. He whispered her name, and she knew that she had to tell him how she felt. The words tumbled from her lips, a confession that had been building for days. "I love you, y/n," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. He pulled her closer, his heart pounding in his chest. He had hoped, prayed even, that she felt the same way he did. But hearing her say it was like being struck by lightning. "Tzuyu," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I love you too."

They kissed, their bodies pressed together as if they could somehow merge into one. The wind whipped around them, carrying their whispers out to the sea, a silent testament to the love that had bloomed in the most unlikely of places. The night was theirs, a stolen treasure that they would hold onto for as long as they could. The bedroom was a sanctuary, their final bastion of passion before the cold reality of their lives would come crashing down on them. They made love, their bodies moving in a dance that was as old as time itself. Each thrust was a declaration of war against the world that sought to tear them apart, each kiss a silent promise to find a way to make it work.

But as the dawn approached, the inevitable truth dawned on them. This was not a fairy tale where they could live happily ever after. They were two people from different worlds, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was forbidden. With heavy hearts, they dressed in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The plane ride home was a stark reminder of the life that awaited her. The empty seat beside her was a gaping hole, a painful reminder of the man she had left behind. She knew she had to return to her husband, to her garden, and to the quiet life she had built for herself. But she also knew that she could never be the same.

The taste of y/n's kisses lingered on her lips, a sweet agony that she both cherished and despised. The vacation had been a gift, the best she had ever received, but it had also unleashed a beast within her that she could no longer ignore. Each day was a whirlwind of sensual delights, a buffet of carnality that she feasted on greedily. They had explored every corner of the island, every hidden cove and sandy beach, making love under the shade of palm trees and in the warm embrace of the tropical sun.

Yet, amidst the fun and lust, y/n had been more than just a lover; he had been a caretaker, anticipating her every need. He had pampered her, spoiled her, showered her with affection that she had longed for in her loveless marriage. He had taken her to the heights of pleasure, whispering sweet nothings that had her toes curling and her pussy gushing. He had treated her like a queen, and she had reveled in the attention, letting herself be swept away by the current of his passion.

The final night in the Maldives was a crescendo of their love. They made love with an intensity that was almost violent, as if trying to imprint every sensation into their very souls. The bed was a battlefield, their cries of pleasure piercing the quiet night. His touch was a brand, searing into her flesh the memory of his love. And when the final orgasm had left her trembling and spent, she knew that she could never go back to the way things were before.

The next morning, as they packed their bags, the weight of their impending separation was palpable. They had shared two week of unbridled passion, but now they had to face the cold, hard truth. They were not teenagers with endless summers ahead of them; they were adults with responsibilities, with lives that didn't include each other. The air was thick with unspoken words, a fog that clouded her vision and made her heart ache. He looked up from his suitcase and met her gaze, his eyes filled with a desperation that mirrored her own. "Can you be mine, Tzuyu?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion. The words hung in the air, a question that held the power to shatter the fragile world they had built together. She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears. She wanted to say yes, to scream it from the rooftops and let the world know that she belonged to him.

But she knew she couldn't. She had a husband, a life that didn't include y/n. A life that was safe, predictable, and utterly devoid of the passion that had come to define her existence in the last two weeks. She felt torn in two, her heart a battleground for love and duty. "I don't know, y/n," she said softly, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. "I'm married. I can't just leave him." His eyes searched hers, desperation and hurt fighting for dominance. "But you said you loved me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "You said I was the best you've ever had." Tzuyu felt the truth of his words like a knife to her heart. She had said those things, and she had meant them in the throes of passion. But love was not just about passion; it was about a lifetime of shared moments, commitments, and trust. "I do love you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I also love my husband, and I don't know how to tell him that I want a divorce."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering in his gaze. "How about we fuck in front of your husband?" he said, his tone cold and calculating. "Let him see what he's been missing out on." Tzuyu felt the blood drain from her face at the mere suggestion. "What are you talking about?" she stammered, her heart racing. "That's insane." Y/n shrugged, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "It's just an idea," he said, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and lust. "But think about it. He'd see how much you truly crave me, how much pleasure I give you."

Tzuyu's mind raced with the implications of his words. The thought of her husband watching as y/n claimed her body was both terrifying and arousing. She knew it was wrong, that she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she couldn't shake off the temptation that whispered sweet nothings into her ear. "I don't know if I agree," she said, her voice shaking.

"Why not?" he demanded, his grip on her wrist tightening. "You said you love me. You said you want me to fuck you every day. What's the difference if he watches?" Tzuyu's heart hammered in her chest. "I...I need time to think," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. The thought of her husband seeing her with y/n, of the pain it would cause him, was too much to bear.

Y/n's smile faded, replaced by a look of cold calculation. He released her wrist and took a step back. "Fine," he said, his voice clipped. "But don't take too long. I won't wait forever."

The tension in the room was palpable as they both dressed in silence. The magic of the Maldives had been shattered by the harsh light of reality. Tzuyu felt a deep sadness in her heart, knowing that their perfect bubble of passion was about to pop. They had to face the truth of their situation: two people in love, trapped in separate lives. They made their way to the airport, the weight of their secret hanging heavy in the air between them. The ride was tense, filled with unspoken words and furtive glances. The tropical paradise outside the window was a stark contrast to the turmoil in the car. Tzuyu's mind was a whirlwind of emotions, torn between the love she had just discovered and the life she was returning to.

At the airport, they checked in for their flights, the mundane process feeling like a slap in the face.  They found a quiet corner away from prying eyes, and Tzuyu reached for y/n's hand, lacing her fingers through his. He looked down at her, his expression a mix of love and desperation.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know how to do this." He squeezed her hand tightly, his gaze intense. "Just think what I planned before, it's the only way." His voice was firm, a declaration of his resolve to claim her fully. Tzuyu felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She knew the depth of his jealousy, the possessiveness that had grown within him during their time together. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to agree to such an extreme act. The thought of her husband watching, of the humiliation and pain it would cause, was too much to bear. But she also knew that y/n's love was like a tempest, unyielding and all-consuming. Her husband's arrival at the airport was a blur of smiles and hugs. She forced herself to play the role of the loving wife, while her heart was a tumult of passion and guilt. Y/n's gaze never left them, his eyes dark with unspoken anger and desire. She could feel his longing, his need for her to be his alone. As she walked away with her husband, she looked back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting y/n's. He mouthed the words "I'll be waiting." The car ride home was awkward, her mind racing with thoughts of the man she was leaving behind. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that y/n's eyes were following her every move, even though he was miles away. Her husband noticed her distant behavior and attributed it to jet lag and the emotional strain of their vacation.

"Why are all your clothes clean?" he asked as they unpacked their suitcases in the bedroom, a hint of confusion in his tone. Tzuyu's heart skipped a beat. She had been so lost in her thoughts she hadn't realized she had brought back her dirty clothes from the Maldives. "Oh, I did a bit of laundry while you were away," she replied with a casual shrug, hoping her lie wasn't too transparent. The truth was she hadn't worn anything other than y/n's cum-stained clothes for the entire duration of their vacation. Each piece was a silent testament to their passionate encounters, and she had wanted to keep them close, a secret shrine to their love. But she couldn't risk her husband discovering her infidelity.

The days that followed were a blur of mundane routines and stolen glances at her phone, hoping for a message from y/n. She found herself replaying their moments in the Maldives, the way his hands had touched her, the sound of his moans in her ear, the feel of his warm cum filling her up. Her body ached for him, a craving that no amount of self-pleasure could satisfy. Her thoughts were consumed by the idea of y/n, his dominance, his love, and the intensity of their bond. Her husband noticed her distant gaze and the lack of enthusiasm in her voice when they talked. He attributed it to the post-vacation blues, not realizing that her heart was elsewhere, entangled in a web of guilt and desire for a man who wasn't him. Tzuyu forced a smile, going through the motions of a happy marriage, all the while feeling the emptiness of her bed, the coldness of the sheets that hadn't felt y/n's warmth in days.

Each night, she lay beside her husband, her body tense and unyielding. She tried to ignore the whispers of y/n's name that danced in her head, the memories of his touch that made her skin crawl with need. But the silence between them was a stark reminder of the passion she had left behind. She missed the way he had made her feel alive, the way he had claimed her, heart and soul. And as she stared into the darkness, she wondered if she could ever truly go back to the life she had before y/n. Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her phone on the nightstand. She reached for it with trembling hands, her heart racing at the sight of his name. **"U have three days left,"** the message read, **"If you don't give me an answer, I will leave you."** She read the words over and over, the ultimatum sinking in like a dagger to her heart. She knew she had to make a choice, one that would change the course of her life forever.

For two agonizing days, she walked around in a daze, her mind consumed by the images of their shared passion and the fear of losing the love she had found in his arms. She felt like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to resist the allure of his dominance, his touch, his love. The guilt of her actions sat like a heavy stone in her stomach, but the thought of never feeling his warmth again was unbearable. The final day came, and with it, a strange sense of clarity. She knew she couldn't keep living a lie, torn between her duty and her desires. With trembling fingers, she typed out her response. **"Okay,"** she sent back, her heart pounding in her chest. **"I will do it."** It was a decision that would shake the very foundations of her world, a declaration of her willingness to embrace the forbidden.

The anticipation grew with each passing hour, her body thrumming with a mix of excitement and dread. She knew what was coming, the ultimate test of her love for y/n and her commitment to their illicit bond. The night of the dinner party loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she couldn't bring herself to back out. Her fate was sealed; she had accepted his plan.

With trembling fingers, Tzuyu sent the message: **"How is the plan?"** She watched the screen, waiting for his response with bated breath. **"Good, I've been waiting for this,"** y/n replied with a smug smile. **"When he leaves for work, send him a message."**

The next day, Tzuyu waited anxiously for the right moment. As her husband packed his briefcase, she took a deep breath and typed out the message. **"Come home right now, there's a mysterious guy outside, i'm getting scared."** She sent it and waited for his response, her heart pounding in her chest. The seconds ticked by like hours, and when she finally heard the notification, she couldn't bring herself to look.

**"Who is this?"** Her husband's reply was swift and filled with confusion. She had never played games like this before, and the risk was palpable. **"It's me,"** she replied, her voice quivering. **"Just come back. I need you."** She watched the screen, willing him to read the urgency in her words. As the time for his return approached, she felt a strange mix of fear and excitement. Her hand shook as she unlocked the door, her body tense with anticipation. Y/n had instructed her to wear something that would drive him wild, so she had chosen a sheer negligee that barely contained her curves. When she heard the sound of his key in the lock, she took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, her heart racing. 

The moment he stepped inside, y/n was on her, his kisses rough and demanding. He pushed her against the wall, his hands roaming her body as if claiming her once more. She gasped into his mouth, the fabric of her lingerie doing little to protect her from the heat of his touch. His hands found her breasts, squeezing them with a ferocity that made her moan, her nipples hardening under his palms. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down her spine. "You're mine," he murmured, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "I own every inch of you, Tzuyu. You know it, and now everyone will know it." Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of doubt or regret, but all she found was a fiery determination that mirrored her own. She nodded, her heart racing. "I sent the message," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "He'll be here soon."

With a smirk, y/n scooped her up in his arms, the strength of his embrace leaving her feeling both protected and vulnerable. He carried her to her bedroom, the same room where she had shared countless passionless nights with her husband. The difference was stark, like stepping from a black-and-white photograph into a world of vibrant color. He placed her gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, and she felt a strange sense of belonging. He began to tear at the fabric of her negligee, his movements swift and sure, as if he had done this a hundred times before. The sound of the delicate material ripping apart sent a thrill through her, the anticipation of what was to come making her wetter than she ever thought possible. He revealed her breasts with a flourish, the nipples already erect and begging for his touch. His eyes grew dark with lust, and she couldn't help but feel a thrill of power knowing she was the one who had brought that look to his face.

With a low growl, he leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste her. He started licking her body like an animal searching for food, his hot wetness leaving a trail of fire wherever it touched. His tongue danced across her skin, exploring every inch of her with a feral hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He licked her neck, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, and the sensitive skin of her stomach, his movements growing more urgent with every pass. Tzuyu's body arched off the bed.

"Oh god," she gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets. "Please, y/n, I can't take it anymore."

He looked up at her, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You're going to cum for me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice a dark promise.

Tzuyu could feel the tension coiling tighter within her, her body a tightly wound spring about to snap. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, as the waves of pleasure grew stronger with every touch of his tongue. Y/n took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking hard while his hand found its way to her pussy. His fingers slid inside her with ease, the wetness of her arousal coating them instantly. He began to pump her, his thumb circling her clit with a rhythm that made her vision blur.

Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, and she screamed out his name, the word echoing through the room. Her pussy clamped down on his fingers, releasing a torrent of juice that soaked the bed. She thrashed against the sheets, her body a wild canvas of passion and desire. The intensity of her climax took her by surprise, and she could feel her cheeks flush with a mix of pleasure and embarrassment.

Y/n pulled away from her breasts, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly slid his fingers out of her. He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, licking the juices from her skin with a wicked grin. "You taste so sweet," he murmured before kissing her deeply, sharing the taste of her pleasure with her.

Her heart was racing in her chest, a wild drumbeat that seemed to echo the pounding of the waves outside their beachside villa. She knew what he wanted, what she had been craving since they had returned from the Maldives. The time for secrets was over; the time to face the consequences of their desires had arrived.

"Now is the time to fucked u," he growled, his voice thick with need. He didn't wait for a response, instead.

He lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around his waist, arms tightly around his neck. Her heart raced as he carried her to the balcony, the cool night air brushing against her skin as she clung to him. She felt like a wild creature being claimed by its mate, the thrill of the forbidden mixing with the fear of being caught.

With one swift motion, he bent her over the railing, the wood biting into her skin. The world below was a blur of lights and shadows, a stark contrast to the intense intimacy of their union. His cock slammed into her, filling her up as the waves crashed against the shore, the rhythm of their passion mirroring the fury of the sea. The sound of their skin slapping together echoed through the quiet night, a secret symphony for their ears only.

Right now, he fucked tzuyu in flying squirrel position in front of the door of her bedroom,it makes tzuyu leg spread wide while his cock keep slamming into her g spot.

The world around them disappeared as they became one, lost in the throes of passion. Tzuyu could feel the eyes of the night on them, a silent audience to their clandestine dance. Yet, she didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of he's cock inside her, the way he filled her up, the way he made her feel alive.

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her mouth formed a silent "O" as he hit her g-spot with unerring precision. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through her body, making her quiver and moan. Her breasts bounced with every impact, and she knew that the sight of her exposed to the elements would only add to his excitement.

And then she heard it. The sound of the door opening, the soft murmur of voices. Her heart skipped a beat, and she pushed against him, trying to get away from the railing. "Y/n, my husband," she whispered frantically, her eyes wide open.

Y/n's grip tightened around her waist, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Let him see," he breathed into her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe. "Let him know what a whore you are for me."

The sound of her husband's footsteps grew louder as he ascended the stairs, oblivious to the betrayal unfolding in the open. Tzuyu felt a mix of fear and excitement, the danger of discovery making her pulse race even faster.

The bedroom door swung open with a creak that seemed to echo through the house. Her husband's eyes widened in shock and disbelief, taking in the scene before him: Tzuyu's naked body bent over the railing, y/n's muscular frame pounding into her from behind. The sight of her eyes rolled back in ecstasy, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure, and the unmistakable gush of her squirt painting the floorboards was too much for him to comprehend.

Y/n didn't miss a beat, his rhythm never faltering as he continued to claim Tzuyu's pussy with fierce determination. He smirked at the shock on her husband's face, savoring the moment of victory. " she was a slut for my cock," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "did you know she squirts like a fountain when she's really turned on?"

Her husband's face was a mask of rage and betrayal, his fists clenching at his sides. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, the woman he had vowed to love and cherish being used so roughly by another man. But as Tzuyu's eyes met his, filled with a passion that had been absent from their own lovemaking for so long, a spark of doubt flickered in his gaze.

"What is this, Tzuyu?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Her husband's words barely registered in the haze of pleasure that clouded her mind. "I just want to show you," she panted, her voice thick with lust, "that I crave for his big cock."

Y/n's grip on her hips tightened as he drove into her deeper, his own pleasure spiking at her blatant disregard for the consequences. He could see the rage in her husband's eyes, the betrayal etched deep, and it fueled his own desire. "Look how this big dick stretches you out," he murmured, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down her spine.

Tzuyu felt the beginnings of another orgasm coil in her belly, her pussy tightening around him. "Yes, y/n," she moaned, the words slipping from her lips like a confession. "I want to squirt again. Please, don't stop."

Her husband's eyes bore into them, but she couldn't look away from y/n's, lost in the depths of her own betrayal and the overwhelming pleasure he gave her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice strained with the effort of speaking through the waves of pleasure. "I've been cheating behind your back."

The silence was deafening, only the sound of their breathing and the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Her husband's expression shifted from shock to anger, his fists clenching at his sides. "You what?" he roared, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I just can't, myself was begging to his cock from the first time we did," Tzuyu repeated, her voice a mix of apology and defiance. She felt the warmth of y/n's semen dripping down her legs, the evidence of her infidelity a stark reminder of the choice she had made. The words hung in the air like a noose around her neck, tightening with every passing second.

Her husband's face crumpled, the weight of her confession too much to bear. He stumbled back, his knees buckling as he sank to the floor. His hand came up to cover his eyes, as if to block out the sight of his wife's betrayal. A single tear traced a path down his cheek, a silent testament to the pain he felt in his heart.

Tzuyu watched him, her own body still trembling from her recent climax. She felt a pang of guilt, but it was quickly dwarfed by the fire of lust that burned within her. Y/n's cock was still deep inside her, his hips still moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He speak to tzuyu husband"Did you know that she was with me two weeks in Maldives, with her body always naked and I could fuck her whenever I wanted?" His words were a taunt, a declaration of victory that echoed through the room.

Her husband looked up at them, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What?" he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "Is this true, Tzuyu?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice steady. "It was in the Maldives. He made me feel things I've never felt before." She didn't bother to hide the raw emotion in her voice, the love and desire she had for y/n shining through like a beacon.

Her husband's eyes flicked to y/n, his face a mask of fury and pain. "You're a monster," he spat, his hand clenching into a fist. "How could you do this to me?"

"It wasn't just me," y/n said, his voice cold and unapologetic. "It was both of us. She wanted it just as much as I did."

Tzuyu felt his cock pulse inside her with each word, a silent declaration of his claim on her body and soul. She watched her husband's face contort with rage, his eyes flickering between her and y/n, unable to believe the man he had trusted could do this to him.

"Tzuyu, tell him," y/n demanded, his voice thick with his own release. "Tell him how I made you squirt for the first time. Tell him how good I made you feel."

Her eyes flicked to her husband's face, the anger in his eyes a stark contrast to the passion that had just claimed her body. She took a deep breath, the words sticking in her throat. "It's true," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Y/n was the one who made me squirt for the first time."

"How many times i made u squirt and how many times i came inside your womb ?" Y/n ask tzuyu.

Tzuyu felt the weight of his question, the reality of their transgressions pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. "Too many times," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears "maybe thousand or hundred times.".

Her husband's fists clenched at his sides, his eyes dark with betrayal. "Is that all you want from me?" he spat. "To be used like some kind of... some kind of whore?"

Y/n's grip tightened around her, his hips grinding into her. "Tell him," he murmured again, his voice a seductive whisper in her ear. "Tell him you want me, that you need me."

Tzuyu's chest heaved, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "I do," she admitted, the words tearing from her like a confession. "I want to marry you, y/n. I want to have your children."

The room was silent, the only sound the heavy thud of her husband's heart beating against the wall of his chest. Y/n's eyes gleamed with victory, his cock still buried deep within her, her pussy clenching around him in silent agreement.

"You can't be serious," her husband choked out, his voice thick with pain.

Tzuyu looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and determination. "I am," she said softly. "I've never felt this way with you." The words were like a knife, twisting in the wound that had been festering for years.

Her husband's face crumpled, the realization of her betrayal and the depth of her feelings for y/n too much to bear. He pulled away from her, his hand slipping from her cheek. "I'll leave you two," he said, his voice barely a whisper.

He turned, his eyes avoiding the sight of his wife's nakedness, and walked out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Tzuyu and y/n in a heavy silence that was as thick as the scent of their mingled arousal. Tzuyu felt a tear slip down her cheek as she watched her husband's retreating back, the man she had once loved so fiercely now just a shadow of the life she once knew.

Y/n pulled out of her, his cock still hard and slick with her juices. He reached out, his hand tenderly cupping her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. "Don't worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We'll be together now."

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded, unable to form coherent thoughts. Her body was a live wire, still humming with the aftershocks of her orgasms. She had never felt so alive, so desired, so utterly consumed by someone else's touch. Her marriage felt like a distant memory, a fading photograph that no longer held any significance in the vivid tapestry of her life.

Her husband's footsteps grew fainter as he retreated into the other room, the sound of his pain a stark reminder of the chaos she had just unleashed. But even as the guilt began to creep in, she couldn't deny the pull of y/n's embrace. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss that seemed to promise a future filled with passion and excitement. And she kissed him back, her body responding instinctively, as if it had always been meant for him.

As their kiss deepened, y/n's hand slid down her body, his fingers finding her still-sensitive clit. He began to stroke her again, his movements slow and deliberate, and she moaned into his mouth, her legs parting of their own accord. She didn't care if her husband heard them, didn't care if the entire neighborhood knew. All that mattered was the feel of y/n inside her, the way he made her squirt with every thrust, filling her up with his hot cum.

Their lovemaking was a symphony of desire, each movement in perfect harmony with the other. He took her again and again, their bodies a testament to the power of their connection. She felt him swell inside her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper. "Don't stop," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "Make me come again."

He complied, his strokes growing faster, his breath hot against her neck. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure in her core growing tighter and tighter until she could hold it no longer. She screamed out his name, her body shaking with the force of her release. He followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his seed. They clung to each other, their hearts beating as one, their bodies slick with sweat.

When the waves of pleasure finally receded, they lay there, their breathing ragged and their hearts still pounding. Tzuyu knew that she had made a choice, a choice that would change her life forever. She looked up at y/n, her eyes filled with love and regret. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze intense. "We do what we should have done from the start," he said, his voice a mix of passion and determination. "I want to claim every part of this house, to erase the stain of your husband's touch from your life." He kissed her again, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth as if he could taste her soul.

They moved through the house, their bodies entwined, leaving a trail of passion in their wake. Every room held a memory of a mundane moment from her married life, and every time y/n fucked her in a new place, it felt like a declaration of war against the stagnation she had suffered. They were a whirlwind of desire, a force of nature that could not be contained.

In the living room, y/n bent her over the couch, his cock sliding into her from behind as she gripped the cushions. The sound of their flesh slapping together echoed through the space, a stark contrast to the quiet evenings she had spent watching TV with her husband. In the bedroom, she straddled him, her walls clenching around him as if trying to keep him with her forever. Each thrust was a silent promise that she would never again belong to anyone else.

And when they reached the final room, the office where her husband had spent so many nights ignoring her, y/n picked her up and placed her on the desk, her legs spread wide. He took her with a ferocity that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, and with each stroke, she felt herself breaking free from the chains of her old life. The room was filled with the scent of sex and sweat, a potent mix that intoxicated them both.

As they reached their climax, y/n pulled out and painted her stomach and breasts with his cum, marking her as his. He then took out his phone, capturing the moment forever. The image of her, her pussy still spasming with the aftershocks of pleasure and his seed leaking out of her, was like a trophy of their conquest. Her face was a canvas of ecstasy, her eyes glazed over and her lips swollen from his kisses. She watched him through the reflection in the window, the moonlight casting a glow on their intertwined bodies.

"Send that photo to ur husband to make him envy," he whispered into her ear, his voice a dark caress that sent another shiver down her spine. The idea was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure, but she knew that it was a declaration of war, a declaration that she belonged to him now. Her hand trembled as she took the phone, her thumb hovering over the send button. The weight of the decision was like a boulder on her chest, but she knew she had to do it.

With a deep breath, she send out the photo with caption: "U never make me like this, only y/n can. That's why I choose him." She hit send, and the message disappeared into the digital ether, the final nail in the coffin of her marriage. The silence in the room was deafening as they both waited for a response, the only sound their ragged breaths and the distant wail of a siren outside.

The tension was palpable, but then, y/n leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "Let's see what he says," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and malice. Tzuyu couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation bubbling up inside her. The sound was a strange mix of relief and hysteria, a release of all the pent-up emotion from the past few days.

The response was almost immediate. Her husband's furious message filled the screen, a torrent of anger and betrayal that only served to reinforce her decision. She read the words with a detached calm, knowing that she had chosen her path. The photo had been a declaration of her newfound freedom, a declaration of her love for the man who had taught her the true meaning of passion and desire.

Tzuyu looked up from her phone to find y/n watching her, his expression a mix of excitement and concern. She met his gaze, and in that moment, she knew that she had made the right choice. He was her future, the man who had brought color to her once-monochrome life. The man who had made her squirt like a teenager and brought her to heights of pleasure she had never before known.

With a shaky smile, she turned to him, her heart racing with anticipation. "It's done," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the thunderous pounding in her chest. "I've sent it."

Y/n's eyes lit up with triumph, and he pulled her into a fierce embrace. "You're mine," he murmured against her ear, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill down her spine. "Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to marry."

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. The divorce was swift and brutal, a battle of wills that Tzuyu emerged from with the victory she had sought. Her husband's disbelief and rage only fueled her resolve, and she walked away from the ashes of their marriage with her head held high, her heart filled with the promise of a life with y/n.

Their wedding was a small affair, an intimate gathering of those who truly mattered. As she exchanged vows with the man who had claimed her so thoroughly, she felt a sense of belonging that she had never known before. His hand in hers was a promise of forever, a promise she eagerly accepted.

Their honeymoon suite was a sanctuary of love, a place where y/n could continue to worship her body in every way imaginable. The walls echoed with her cries of pleasure, her pussy squirting in response to his relentless lovemaking. Every thrust of his cock was a declaration of his love, and she reveled in the feeling of being filled by him, over and over again.

In those passionate moments, time seemed to stand still. His love was an intoxicating force that consumed her, leaving her breathless and begging for more. Her body was his playground, and he explored it with a hunger that never ceased. Each orgasm was a testament to their connection, a shared secret that bound them closer than any vow could ever do.

Yet, amidst the passion, Tzuyu was acutely aware of the world outside their bubble. She knew that their love was not universally accepted, that there would be whispers and judgments. But as she felt his cum fill her once again, she also knew that she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the love they shared, the love that had set her free from the shackles of her old life.

Their love was a storm, wild and untamed, and it raged on unabated. Each day brought new heights of ecstasy, each night a symphony of moans and whispers of love. They were lost in a sea of passion that neither wanted to navigate out of. And as Tzuyu lay there, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure, she whispered the words she had been longing to say. "I want your baby," she said, her eyes shining with hope.

Y/n's smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, a smile that spoke of joy and love and a future filled with the sweet chaos of a family. He leaned in to kiss her, his cock still nestled inside her, and she knew that she had made the right choice.

Their love grew with each passing day, and soon, her belly grew too. The thought of carrying his child was a miracle she had never dared to dream of. Yet, as her stomach swelled with new life, she felt a sense of peace that surpassed all understanding.

But with the joy came the fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the judgmental eyes of the world, fear of the future. Yet, every time she looked into y/n's eyes, she found strength. His love was a bastion she could always retreat to, a force that could vanquish any doubt or insecurity.

Tzuyu had never felt more alive, more loved, more cherished. Her life was no longer a series of mundane routines but a tapestry of passion and excitement, woven together by the threads of their love. And as she watched him sleep, his hand resting gently on her rounded belly, she knew that she would face whatever the future held with the same fierce determination that had brought them to this moment.

For she was not just a woman in love; she was a woman transformed, a woman who had found her true self in the arms of the man who had claimed her heart and her body, forever.

Years passed, and with each season, Tzuyu felt y/n's love for her deepen. His cock had become a symbol of their union, a beacon of pleasure that pierced through the darkness of doubt and uncertainty. He gave her his essence, his very life force, with every creampie, filling her womb with the hope of new life. Yet, as the months grew into years, the absence of a child grew heavier, a question mark hanging over their love nest. Despite the relentless passion, the fertility tests remained negative, the doctors puzzled.

Tzuyu's mind swirled with questions, each more troubling than the last. Had she waited too long? Was there something wrong with her? Yet, y/n's love remained unwavering, his desire for her as potent as ever. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, promising her the world, and she believed him, for she had seen him move mountains with his love. His semen was a sacred elixir, a gift that she craved and revered, and she took it gratefully, her pussy swelling with each injection of his love.

Their lovemaking had become a ritual, a dance of desire and need that transcended the physical realm. He would fuck her until she was nothing but a trembling mess of pleasure, her pussy gushing with the evidence of her love for him. And then, he would fill her, his cock pulsing with life, his semen spilling into her with a warmth that seemed to reach the very core of her soul. Afterwards, they would lay entwined, her body a canvas for his adoration, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

But the whispers grew louder with time, the shadows of doubt creeping in. Why wasn't she pregnant? Was it the universe's cruel joke, to give them so much pleasure yet deny them the fruit of their love?.

After five long years, the miracle they had both been praying for finally happened. Tzuyu's belly swelled with life, a testament to their unyielding passion and love. When y/n heard the news, he was over the moon, his eyes shining with a joy that could outshine the stars. He took her in his arms, his cock already hardening at the thought of what they had created together.

He showered her with love and attention, preparing her favorite meals and rubbing her swollen belly with gentle strokes that never failed to elicit a contented sigh from her. He whispered sweet promises to the little life growing inside her, pledging to protect and cherish it as he did its mother. Every creampie now had a purpose, a sacred offering to the child that would soon be a part of them.

Their love grew even more intense with each passing day, the bond between them tightening like a coil about to spring. Y/n took her to the finest doctors, ensuring that she and the baby would receive the best care. He painted the nursery in soft pastels, filling it with plush toys and tiny clothes that made Tzuyu's heart swell with joy. The anticipation of their child's arrival was a constant presence, a drumbeat that grew louder with each passing week.

But the fear remained, a snake coiled around her heart. What if something went wrong? What if she lost the baby? She clung to y/n, drawing strength from his unwavering belief in her, in them. And with each squirt of his love, she felt a surge of power, a reminder that she was not alone in this.

Their love was a force to be reckoned with, a tempest that had weathered the storms of doubt and despair. And as she felt the first flutters of life within her, she knew that together, they could conquer any challenge that lay ahead. The future was uncertain, but in the arms of her lover, with the promise of a new life growing within her, Tzuyu felt ready to face it all.

Y/n was her rock, her anchor in the tumultuous sea of change that washed over her. He anticipated her every need, his gentle touch and soothing words a balm to her frazzled nerves. He knew her body was changing, knew the fears that haunted her dreams. He was there with her, every step of the way, whispering reassurances into her ear as he cradled her swollen belly. His eyes shone with a fierce protectiveness that made her feel like the most cherished creature on earth.

He pampered her, making her favorite meals with a care that bordered on the obsessive. He knew her cravings, her mood swings, and her ever-changing body like the back of his hand. He massaged her sore feet, her swollen ankles, and the small of her back, where the weight of their unborn child rested heavily. He talked to the baby, his deep voice a gentle rumble that made Tzuyu's heart melt. His love was boundless, and she felt it in every stroke, every kiss, every tender caress.

But even as they basked in the glow of their love, the whispers grew louder, the shadows stretching further. Her mind was a maelstrom of what-ifs and fears, her thoughts racing faster than the galloping heartbeat of their child. What if she wasn't enough? What if she failed as a mother? Y/n could see the turmoil in her eyes, the doubt that gnawed at her from within. He took her in his arms, his grip firm yet gentle, and whispered the words that had become their mantra. "We're in this together." And she believed him, because she had no choice but to.

The days grew longer, the nights shorter, and still, y/n was by her side. He held her hand through every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, his face a mirror of her own excitement and fear. His cock was a symbol of their unity, a bridge that connected them to the life they had created. Whenever she felt overwhelmed, he would fill her with his love, his semen a warm embrace that reminded her that she was not alone.

And in those quiet moments, when the world outside had ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the rhythm of their hearts and the gentle dance of their limbs, she found peace. Their love had become more than just a passionate affair; it was a lifeline, a promise that no matter what the future held, they would face it as one.

Tzuyu felt the weight of his gaze on her, the love in his eyes a beacon that guided her through the fog of uncertainty. And in the stillness of those moments, she knew that she had made the right choice. Her body was changing, her life was transforming, but with y/n beside her, she was ready to embrace it all. For in the chaos of creation, they had found their sanctuary, their love a beacon that shone through the darkest of nights.

The last trimester of her pregnancy brought with it a new set of challenges. Her body had become a vessel for the life they had created together, and y/n's love for her grew in tandem with the child within her. Despite the fear that whispered in the back of her mind that her changing body might push him away, his desire for her only grew stronger. He worshipped her swollen belly, her heavy breasts, and the soft curves that had once been so toned.

Every day, he made love to her, his cock sinking into her swollen pussy with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes. His love was a force that transcended the physical, reaching into the very core of her being. And as they climaxed together, her body convulsed with a pleasure so intense it was almost painful, her juices spurting out like a fountain, soaking their bed, their bodies entwined in a dance of passion and creation.

The sight of her squirting brought him to his own peak, his face a mask of ecstasy as he filled her with his cum. And in those moments, she felt complete, whole. Her breasts grew heavy with milk, her nipples hard and sensitive. And when the sprays of white began, he was there, his mouth eager, drinking in the essence of her love. It was a ritual that bonded them in a way that nothing else could, a testament to their love and the life they had created together.

The sound of their love filled the room, echoing off the walls that had seen so much passion and pain. And as the tremors of their shared climax subsided, she looked into his eyes and knew that she had found her home. Her fears dissipated like morning mist, replaced by a fierce determination to face the future as his slut, as his wife, as the mother of his child. For in the end, it was not just her body that had changed; it was her soul, forever intertwined with the man who had claimed it.

The final days of her pregnancy were a blur of anticipation and fear, of joy and doubt. But through it all, y/n's love remained a constant, a beacon that guided her through the storm. And as they prepared for the birth of their child, Tzuyu felt a sense of peace she had never known before. The whispers of the past had been silenced by the roar of their love, and she knew that she had found her place in the world, nestled in the arms of the man who had claimed her heart.

The contractions began with the softness of a whisper, a gentle nudging that grew into a crescendo of pain and power. Y/n was with her every step of the way, his hand in hers, his eyes never leaving her face. He encouraged her, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his love a balm to her soul. And when she felt the overwhelming urge to push, she knew that she could do it, because she had him.

Their love was a force of nature, unstoppable and all-consuming. And as she bore down, her body a battleground for the miracle of life, she felt the warmth of his love surrounding her, lifting her up. His encouragement was a symphony in her ears, his touch a lifeline that connected her to the world outside the pain.

And then, with a final, triumphant push, their child was born. A perfect little being that looked at them with wide, wondering eyes. Y/n's face was a picture of pure joy, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he cut the cord that bound them all together. They had done it, they had created life from love, and nothing could ever break that bond.

The midwife placed the squalling baby on Tzuyu's chest, and she felt a rush of emotion so profound it stole her breath away. This was the culmination of their love, the ultimate proof that they were meant to be together. And as she looked into the tiny face that mirrored hers, she knew that she had never been more loved, more complete, more alive.

In that moment, with their newborn child nestled between them, their love story was rewritten. It was no longer just about the passion that had brought them together, but the love that had grown from that fire, a love that had survived betrayal, doubt, and societal judgment. It was a love that had created life, that had transcended the physical to become something sacred and unbreakable.

Y/n took her hand, his eyes never leaving hers as they watched their child nurse at her breast. The sight of her, so vulnerable and beautiful, filled him with a love that was both fierce and gentle. He leaned in to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin, tasting the salt of her sweat, the sweetness of her love. And when she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears, he knew that she felt it too.

Their love had been tested, but it had not wavered. It had grown stronger, a testament to their resilience and the depth of their bond. They were no longer just lovers, but partners, bound together by the life they had brought into the world. As they held each other, the whispers of doubt and fear faded away, replaced by the soft cooing of their child and the gentle beat of their hearts.

Their future was a blank canvas, a tapestry of moments yet to be woven. They had no idea what challenges lay ahead, what joys or pains would come their way. But in that moment, as they lay entwined, surrounded by the warmth of their love and the new life they had created, they were ready to face it all. For in each other's arms, they had found their home, their sanctuary, their forever.

And so, as the sun set on the first day of their new lives, Tzuyu and y/n held each other tightly, their love a beacon in the night. They whispered promises of forever, of always being there, of never letting go. And as their child slept, the symphony of their hearts played on, a melody that would carry them through every storm, every heartache, every moment of pure, unbridled joy.

For in the chaos of creation, they had found their harmony, their love a force that could conquer any challenge. They were ready to face the world as one, to show the world that love was not bound by convention or expectation, but by the simple, unshakeable truth of two souls that had found each other.

In the days that followed, Tzuyu watched y/n with new eyes, his every move a declaration of his love and dedication. He was a doting father, his rough hands gentle as he cradled their child, his eyes soft with wonder as he watched their baby grow. He was a devoted husband, his love for her a constant reassurance that she had made the right choice.

Their love had not just survived the storm; it had thrived in it. It had grown from a passionate affair into a love that was unshakeable, a bond that nothing could break. And as they faced the world together, hand in hand, they knew that they had created something beautiful, something that would last a lifetime.

The whispers of their past had been silenced, the shadows of doubt banished by the light of their love. They had come through the fire, and emerged stronger, more in love than ever before. The world had not ended with their revelation; instead, it had opened up, revealing a path they had never dared to dream of.

Tzuyu knew that she had found her place in the world, not as someone's possession, but as an equal, a partner, a mother. And as she watched y/n playing with their child, his laughter ringing through the house like a bell, she knew that she had found not just love, but a life that was truly hers. A life filled with passion, with purpose, with the promise of forever.

And as she felt the warmth of his gaze on her, as his hand found hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, she knew that she had made the right choice. For in the end, it was not about societal norms or the expectations of others; it was about the love that burned between them, a love that had created a life that was more beautiful than any garden she had ever tended. A love that was wild, untamed, and utterly, completely theirs.

Y/n looked up from her breast, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Only one baby," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But your breasts are definitely more than enough for the both of us." He took the other in his mouth, the suction causing her to arch her back and gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a reminder of the passion that had brought them to this moment.

The baby's cries grew louder, a symphony of need that pierced the haze of their desire. Tzuyu's laughter was breathless as she reached down to stroke his hair. "You're insatiable," she whispered, her voice a caress that sent a shiver down his spine. He pulled away from her, his cock standing at attention, and stood up from the bed. "Let's go take care of our little interrupter," he said with a grin, his hand outstretched to help her up.

They moved in unison, their bodies still attuned to each other's rhythms despite the chaos of their new life. The nursery was a soft glow of moonlight, their baby's tiny face scrunched in a frown. Y/n picked her up with ease, cradling her in his arms as he began to murmur sweet nothings that had always had a way of calming her. Tzuyu watched them, her heart swelling with love, her hand absently tracing the contours of her own body, marveling at the changes that had occurred.

Her breasts were full and heavy with milk, her stomach still rounded despite the baby's birth. Her pussy, so recently ravished, was now a soft, tender bud waiting to bloom once more. And as she watched her husband with their daughter, she felt the stirrings of desire once again, the hunger that never truly left her. The sight of them together was a reminder of the love that had started it all, the love that had created this perfect little being.

With the baby latched onto his finger, y/n turned to Tzuyu, his eyes dark with want. "Let's get her back to sleep," he said, his voice low and seductive. "And then, I want to taste that sweet cunt of yours again." She felt a thrill at his words, the ache between her legs growing more insistent. She knew that despite the interruption, their love was far from over.

They rocked the baby to sleep, their movements in sync as they had become in every aspect of their lives. And when the cries finally subsided into gentle snuffles, they laid her down in her crib, their eyes never leaving hers. Then, as if on cue, they turned to each other, the tension between them palpable.

He took her hand and led her back to their bedroom, the door clicking shut with a finality that seemed to seal them in their own world once again. The bed was a rumpled mess, the evidence of their love scattered around them like confetti. He kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth, a promise of what was to come.

Her body responded immediately, her nipples hardening, her pussy growing wet. He pulled her nightgown over her head, his hands exploring her curves with a familiarity that sent shivers down her spine. His cock was hard and insistent, pressing against her stomach, leaving a trail of pre-cum that she eagerly followed with her finger.

He groaned into her mouth as she stroked him, the sound vibrating through her. Her hand grew bolder, her grip tightening as she felt him grow even harder. And when she finally led him to her waiting entrance, she moaned, the feel of him inside her a balm to the ache she hadn't realized was there.

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle, a sweet symphony of sighs and whispers. His cock filled her completely, his movements a tender exploration of her body's new landscape. And as they moved together, the whispers of their love grew louder, drowning out the cries of their past, the fears and the doubts.

Y/n could feel her milk let down, her breasts leaking with every thrust, and he couldn't resist the temptation. He pulled away from her kiss to lean down, his mouth closing over one of her erect nipples, suckling deeply. Tzuyu arched her back, her eyes rolling back in her head at the sensation. The taste of her milk was sweet and addictive, a flavor that seemed to hold the very essence of her love.

He groaned against her skin, his hand moving to her other breast, kneading and caressing as he drank his fill. Her milk soaked the bed, mingling with their sweat, creating a scent that was uniquely theirs. And as he fucked her, the rhythm of his hips a steady beat, he felt something inside him shift. It was more than just desire, more than just the need to claim her. It was a hunger that went bone deep, a craving that only she could satisfy.

Her walls tightened around him, her orgasm building like a crescendo. He could feel the warmth of her milk on his chest, the stickiness of their love coating them both. And as she came, her body shaking with the force of her release, he knew that he had found his heaven. This was where he belonged, inside her, surrounded by the proof of their love.

Her milk flowed freely, and he lapped it up with the same fervor that he had used to kiss her mouth, her neck, her breasts. It was a declaration of his love, a claiming of her body and her soul. And as they lay together, their hearts beating in sync, their bodies entwined in a tapestry of love and need, they knew that nothing would ever come between them again.

The whispers of doubt had been silenced by the roar of their passion, the shadows of fear banished by the light of their love. They had created a world unto themselves, a sanctuary where they could be free, where they could love without limits.

And as he pulled out, his cock still hard and slick with their combined juices, he watched her body with a sense of awe. She was more beautiful than any garden, more precious than any jewel. And as he reached for her hand, their fingers interlocking, he knew that he had found his home.

Their love had grown from a secret affair into a love that could conquer any storm. And as they lay there, their hearts open and raw, they knew that they had been given a gift. A child, a love that was pure and unshakeable, and a future filled with promise.

Their bodies were still slick with passion when they finally collapsed onto the bed, their breathing ragged and their hearts pounding. Y/n wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear. They were the same words he had whispered countless times before, but now they held a new meaning, a promise of forever.

Tzuyu felt a sense of peace settle over her, a warmth that started in her chest and spread throughout her body. She knew that she had made the right choice, that she had found her soulmate in the most unexpected of places. And as she drifted off to sleep, her body sated and her heart full, she whispered the words that had become their mantra.

"I love you, y/n," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Forever and always."

He pulled her closer, his hand cupping her still-leaking breast, his thumb stroking her nipple gently. "And I love you, Tzuyu," he replied, his voice a soft rumble in the darkness. "With every beat of my heart, with every breath I take."

They lay together, their bodies a tapestry of love and trust, their hearts beating in a duet that was theirs alone. The taste of her milk still lingered on his tongue, a sweetness that seemed to echo the purity of their love. As he drifted off to sleep, the warmth of her body against his, y/n felt a sense of contentment that washed over him like a gentle rain.

The night was a canvas of shadows, the moonlight playing across their tangled limbs like an artist's brush. Their baby slept peacefully in her crib, a testament to the love that had created her. The whispers of doubt and fear had been silenced by the roar of their passion, the shadows of the past banished by the warm glow of their future.

As they slept, their bodies entwined, their love grew stronger, the bond between them unbreakable. Tzuyu dreamed of the days ahead, of watching their child grow, of the adventures they would share as a family. Y/n's arms were a warm cocoon around her, his breath steady and comforting. In the quiet of the night, she knew that she had found her home, her heart's true north.

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden hue over the bed. Tzuyu stirred, the warmth of the sun caressing her skin. She looked down to find y/n still sleeping, his hand curled around her breast, his mouth open slightly. She felt a thrill of desire, her body responding to his touch even in slumber. Carefully, she lifted his head, the pillow of her arm giving way to the softness of the mattress.

He blinked sleepily up at her, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of her. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," she replied, her voice a soft purr that made his cock twitch. "How did you sleep?"

He chuckled, his eyes dropping to her breasts. "Like a baby," he said, his voice filled with mischief. "And speaking of babies..." His hand moved to the baby monitor, pressing the button to check on their daughter. Her gentle coos filled the room, a sweet melody that brought a smile to both of their faces.

They lay there for a moment, listening to the sound of their child's breathing, their hearts swelling with love. Then, with a yawn that stretched his whole body, y/n sat up, his eyes never leaving hers. "I have to admit," he said, his voice low and husky with desire. "I've developed quite a taste for your milk."

Tzuyu felt a blush creep up her neck, her nipples hardening under his gaze. "Well," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "I suppose I'll have to keep producing it, then."

He leaned down to kiss her, his mouth lingering on hers as he reached for her breast once more. "Oh, I have every intention of making sure you do," he murmured, his eyes dark with need.

Their love had grown from a secret to a garden that bloomed in the light of day, a testament to their strength and the depth of their feelings. And as they kissed, the taste of her milk mingling with the sweetness of their love, they knew that they had found their forever.

For in that moment, there was only the two of them, their bodies joined as one, creating a new melody that resonated through every fiber of their beings. They were no longer just lovers, but parents, a bond that went beyond the physical, beyond the confines of their own desires.

Their love had been tested, but it had not just survived; it had evolved, grown into something more profound, more meaningful. And as they lay entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the night, Tzuyu knew that she had found her place in the world. A place filled with love, with passion, with the promise of forever.

[ailesswhumptober]

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2024

As promised, we're bringing you the official prompt list of AI-less Whumptober 2024 today!

We have 31 days of excellent whump prompts, with three prompts per day to pick from, fun themes, and 10 alt prompts to play around with. We hope you enjoy! Additional info + plain text versions of the prompts can be found under the cut.

FAQ and Rules

What sort of content can I create for this event?

You can create whatever you want (fic, art, edits, etc). Any fandom is allowed, as well as OC stuff. NSFW is allowed, but please tag your content accordingly! The only thing not allowed is AI-generated content.

Do I need to make 31 things to participate?

Oh heavens no! You can make as much or as little content as you like, skip days when desired, or combine prompts (so for example, write something that covers a prompt from day 1, 2, AND 3). You don't have to do the days in order either, go wild! To be considered a 'completionist', you only have to make sure that at the end of the month, you've covered 31 prompts from 31 different days, but whether you do that in 31 works or just 1 is up to you.

What are these alts about?

If none of the three prompts of a particular day are your cup of tea, you can swap them out for an alt prompt of your choice.

What are these themes about?

Just a little bit of extra fun for the mods. Like last year, we'll be handing out various badges for people participating in the event. A full list can be found here, perhaps there is a special badge or two for people who can't be completionists but who do manage to finish every single day of a specific theme ;)

How do I tag and is there an AO3 collection?

It suffices to tag your work with #ailesswhumptober for us to see and reblog it! Please also tag nsfw, since we'll be using that tag too. Tagging the day is optional but does help the mods along.

There is an AO3 collection to add your fics to here.

That should be all. If you have any additional questions, check our pinned or hit us up in the ask box. Or join our discord maybe, whumping can be a great group activity!

---

Plain text versions of the prompts:

October 1 - Torture Tuesday

public torture/public use, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.”

October 2 - Whumperless Wednesday

Unfortunate fall, car accident, “Don’t move. You’ll be okay.”

October 3 - Trauma Thursday

Shared trauma, survivor’s guilt, “It’s not your fault.”

October 4 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Painful transformation, non-consensual body modifications, “You’re a monster.”

October 5 - Sensory Saturday

Overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.”

October 6 - Surprise Sunday

Multiple whumpees, self sacrifice, “I’m the only one who can do this.”

October 7 - Medical Monday

Field medicine, running out of supplies, “Hold on, we’re going to have to improvise.”

October 8 - Torture Tuesday

Rope burns, gagged, “You’re so much prettier this way.”

October 9 - Whumperless Wednesday

Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

October 10 - Trauma Thursday

Self worth issues, pushing away a loved one, “You don't need to earn this.”

October 11 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Hallucinations, truth serum, “Why would you even say that?”

October 12 - Sensory Saturday

Isolation, sensory deprivation, “Can you feel me? I’m right here, whumpee.”

October 13 - Surprise Sunday

Whumpee using themself as bait, defiance, “Take me instead.”

October 14 - Medical Monday

Seizures, concussion, “See if you can follow my finger with your eyes.”

October 15 - Torture Tuesday

Waterboarding, removing body parts, “Don’t break down on me yet.”

October 16 - Whumperless Wednesday

Drowning, hostile environment, “I don’t know how anybody could survive that.”

October 17 - Trauma Thursday

Abandonment, misunderstanding, “Why did I even think you cared?”

October 18 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Mind control, possession, “Everybody will end up despising you.”

October 19 - Sensory Saturday

Disassociation, losing a sense, “I wish I could get you back.”

October 20 - Surprise Sunday

Enemy/Stranger to caretaker, accidental de-aging, “I’m absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

October 21 - Medical Monday

Drugged, ambulance ride, “This will make you feel better, okay?”

October 22 - Torture Tuesday

Forced (to kneel/watch/hurt somebody else), whipped, “Do not look away.” October 23 - Whumperless Wednesday

Fever, passing out, “Hey?! Stay with me, okay?!”

October 24 - Trauma Thursday

Deconditioning, relapse, “It’s normal that you need more time.”

October 25 - Fright/Freaky Friday

Humiliation, betrayal, “How could you?!”

October 26 - Sensory Saturday

Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

October 27 - Surprise Sunday

Before vs after, Alternate universe, “Well, there’s a first for everything.”

October 28 - Medical Monday

Internal bleeding, needles and stitches, “I didn’t think the wound was that bad…”

October 29 - Torture Tuesday

Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

October 30 - Whumperless Wednesday

Poison, delirium, “You’re not making sense.”

October 31 - Trauma Thursday

Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Alt prompts:

1) Pistol whipped

2) Co-dependency

3) Animal bite

4) Zombies

5) White room torture

6) Shock collar

7) Pulling teeth

8) Kidnapping

9) “You always make everything worse!”

10) “If you weren’t around, I’d be long dead by now...”

[sevsgiirl]

— the altar is my hips, even if it’s a false god.

sevika week 2025: body worship, day 1.

synopsis: in which your plans to go to a dinner date goes south because you can’t fit into the dress you want, and sevika has to rectify the situation.

word count: 2.4k

tags: mirror sex, top!sevika, bottom!reader, strap-on referred to as cock, body insecurities.

note: helloo y’all , I know it’s been a while since I last posted something but I wanted to come back mainly because it’s sevika week! if you’re unaware the lovely sevika nation community on twitter are hosting this event from june 2-8 celebrating sevika with prompts for each day! and this is my submission for day one and I hope you guys like it <3

also!! warning ahead but this fic mentions weight gain and body image so if those topics are sensitive for you please proceed with caution.

you were never the type to keep track of what you ate and quite frankly, you never had any insecurities about the way you looked.

living in zaun, it was practically a luxury being able to eat at least three meals a day, once was already enough.

but after sevika got the opportunity to work for the council, your income finally sufficed to make up not just for the cost of living but for groceries as well.

not to mention the dinners.

sevika loved taking you out to dinner whenever she got the chance. she knows you don’t like being spoilt with material things and just because you finally lived in high society, doesn’t mean you were going to blend in with the rest of the piltovians by being stuck up and shallow.

that’s one of the many things she loved about you, however, she had to find a way to pamper you regardless.

so she took you out to lavish dinner and lunch dates during her days off work. luckily, with enough persuading you learned to cave in and just have her drag you along to whatever new restaurant she discovered in topside and let you indulge yourself to your heart’s desire.

it wasn’t until months had passed and sevika told you the day prior you were going out on another date that you found yourself running into a dilemma.

it was already evening by the time you got ready and you were thirty minutes away from your reservation, but still you couldn’t seem to find a dress that fit you any longer.

you’ve already seen the signs long before but didn’t pay them any mind. you never had a reason to be self conscious because again, you always viewed weight gain as a privilege especially with how you were brought up in the under city.

but ever since you and sevika moved to piltover, you’d be lying if you said the piltovian mindset didn’t rub off on you. at least just a little - and by that you mean their superficial mindset managed to snake its way into the back of your mind.

despite all the access to good clothes and food, piltovians like to maintain a certain aesthetic where being fit was the norm.

that’s why at some of the restaurants you’ve visited in the past you’ve noticed they liked to serve meals with such tiny portions, something you even laughed at because the prices would be so expensive but the platter wouldn’t even be the same size as your palm.

you’d see countless of women roaming the streets wearing corsets that practically suffocated their rib cage just to achieve a petite built where their waist was so cinched, the wind could’ve taken them away if it blew past hard enough.

you’ve even eavesdropped in conversations regarding their dietary plans and you rolled your eyes thinking what was the point of making a fuss over something so trivial.

it wasn’t until you stood in front of your body length mirror however, that those same exact moments flashed through your mind like a montage and you couldn’t help it as you inspected your body from head to toe.

your tummy had gotten rounder, your hips much fuller, and the fat in your cheeks became more prominent unlike before where they were basically hollow.

back then, you would’ve viewed these changes as an improvement because it meant that your body was finally getting the sustenance it needed. but for some reason, that’s not how you felt now.

instead, the words of every piltovian woman you passed by in the markets came to mind - whether it was when they read the label of every canned goods they bought, calculating the amount of calories it contained before putting it back in the shelves.

‘ugh too much fat. I wouldn’t want to gain a pound especially since summer is nearing’

‘you better put those chips back unless you still want to fit in that gown you reserved for the upcoming gala this week.’

“baby?”

you snapped out of your trance as sevika softly knocked on the door of your shared bedroom, the buttons of her dress shirt popped open at the top, exposing a slither of brown skin as she stepped inside the room and scanned the mess around you - bundles of dresses scattered across the room - before her gaze fell on you, still clad in your underwear.

“our reservation is twenty minutes away. just throw on whatever you have. you’ll look beautiful either way,” she said as she walked past you and pressed a chaste kiss at the top of your head, striding inside the bathroom as your eyes lingered at her broad shoulders and defined legs that were confined in her black dress pants.

you felt a heaviness in your chest as you realized that while you were here over indulging yourself at home, sevika still managed to look after herself and maintained her wonderful physique. which you weren’t surprised by, she was always a woman of great discipline.

so it begs the question of why you hadn’t been able to do the same?

“better hurry, you know how those hostesses are when you’re even five minutes late. that red dress you wore last time would be-“

“it’s not…” you cut her off as sevika turned to you “about the dress, sev.”

she raised an eyebrow, rolling her sleeves up to her forearms “then what is it?”

you bit your lower lip, trying hard not to get emotional as you refused to spare another glance at the mirror.

“I mean, it is about the dress but it’s also me,” your throat was tight as you wiped a stray tear on your cheek “I can’t fucking fit in it. in any of it. I’ve gained so much weight and I should’ve taken better care of myself but now I feel huge and…”

you shook your head, not wanting to meet sevika’s eye as she stayed silent amidst your meltdown “can we please just cancel the date if it’s okay? I don’t wanna go out looking like this.”

there was a beat of silence and for a moment you wondered if sevika was even there or if she had left the room due to your dramatics.

but when you looked up, you were simply greeted by her clenched jaw and intense eyes as they raked over your form, making you squirm as she started walking towards you.

you sighed “sev, look, I’m sorry okay? let’s just reschedul-“

you squealed when out of nowhere sevika suddenly took you by the hips and turned you around so your entire front was facing the mirror, bracing your arms around the edges as her warm breath fanned against the side of your neck and you shuddered when her lips met the shell of your ear.

her voice low and dangerous as she squeezed the meat of your love handles.

“you know, I don’t work day and night to provide for you and make sure you’re well taken care of just so you can stand here and tell me you look awful for gaining weight when that’s all I’ve ever wanted when we spent years eating scraps back in zaun,” she scolded and you couldn’t even get a word out before she suddenly lifted her hand, and swatted a harsh slap against your ass.

making you gasp, gripping the sides of the mirror tightly as you heard sevika fiddling with the buckles of her belt behind you.

“tell me,” she said gruffly as she pushed your hips back “what exactly is the problem now that you’ve gained weight, hm?”

you swallowed nervously “I-uh… I can’t f-fit in any of my clothes, sev-“

“then we’ll just buy bigger ones,” she stated “what else? let’s reschedule the date sure, and buy shit that fits you better. problem solved.”

you huffed out a tired breath “sev, that’s not the point-“

“then what is it so I can understand?”

you pondered over your answer for a minute, debating whether or not you should tell her “I know you’re taking care of me but I need to lose weight. it’s one thing that I can’t fit in my clothes anymore but I just look horribl-“

you let out another yelp when her large palm landed across the skin of your ass, no doubt leaving a mark and you stared at sevika from the mirror just to see her eyes were dilated, focused solely on your backside and how it jiggled every time she swatted it.

she lets out a scoff, squeezing the handfuls of flesh from your waist and you began to feel your legs shake at the way she started pawing at you.

“you’re so fucking ridiculous. you got a body this fucking great yet you’re out here complaining that you can’t fit into a dress and because of that, you think you’re any less beautiful than you actually are,”

her fingers pulled at the strings of your thong and your eyes widened when she started slipping them down until it pooled at the ends of your feet.

“look at the mirror,”

your cheeks reddened because all this time your attention stayed solely on her, not once did you look at your body which apparently didn’t go unnoticed by sevika.

and she wasn’t having any of it “don’t make me repeat myself. look at the mirror,”

squeezing your eyelids shut one last time, you cracked them open and faced the sight you were too embarrassed to confront - at how your boobs nearly spilled over the cups of your bra, and how your hips became noticeably wider. if it weren’t for the improbability you would’ve assumed you were pregnant at this point.

“tell me what you see,”

you gulped, shaking your head “sev, just stop-“

“tell. me. what. you. see.”

feeling self conscious, you wanted to curl up into a ball but sevika wasn’t having any of it as she held you in place “I gained weight-“

“yes,”

“and I’ve gotten fat-“

“yes, and?”

you pondered over your next words because you knew your answer had varying outcomes.

“this is silly. sev, let’s just cancel the dinner and-“

you weren’t able to finish because she didn’t even let you, because one moment she was staring you down like you were prey and the next, she’s kneeling behind you and licking a fat stripe up your cunt, making your knees buckle as you yelled her name.

“oh my god, sev-“

she pulled back and snarled at the sight of your throbbing folds and brought her lips back to your clit, sucking it between her lips as you let out a broken cry.

her hand finding its way to unzip her pants and when you looked down, you couldn’t help the way your mouth fell agape at the sight of her stroking her strap from the confines of her boxers.

“this was supposed to be a surprise, you know? but then you decided to be fucking ridiculous thinking you’re too thick to go out,” she shook her head, her tongue prodding at your hole “but you wanna know what I think?”

you whimpered when she kneaded the supple skin of your rear, the flesh folding in her palm as she lets out a curse.

“I think you’re out of your goddamn mind if you could see the way your body looks right now and think that you’re anything else if not fucking perfect,”

with that, her tongue plunged inside your cunt and started rubbing against your tight walls, making your eyes roll at the back of your head as you backed up against her face, to which she encouraged as she lets out an almost animalistic growl at the way your ass bounced deliciously.

all the while she sunk a finger in at the same time her mouth devoured you like you were the dinner planned for tonight, and you couldn’t stop the way your body seized before falling apart entirely at her hands.

your breathing labored while you held yourself up using the mirror, meanwhile sevika was already standing up and pulling her pants down to take her cock out.

she aligned herself in between your folds and reached forward so she could pull the cups of your bra down, your breasts spilling out as she took one in her hand and used the other to inch her way inside you.

“f-fuck baby,” her voice was raspy as she ogled at the sight you of swallowing her, your cunt fluttering at the sheer size of her cock as you tried your best to adjust “I can’t believe you get to look at yourself every single day and not see what I see…”

with that, she began to do deep, slow strokes into your cunt before she began a punishing pace, one that made you throw your head back as it rested against her shoulder. meanwhile, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way your ass rippled with every harsh thrust she made. it was damn near like ecstasy, the way you and your body responded to her.

her hips pounded against yours relentlessly and you sensed the build up of your climax nearing.

she kissed the side of your neck and groped your tits as she fucked you “I never wanna hear you say a single bad fucking thing about the way you look, you got me?”

you nodded, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes “y-yes. fuck, I’m gonna cum. please, please, oh my g-god.”

it didn’t take long before your body started convulsing and your pussy coated her cock to the hilt, all thick and warm and sevika gave it a couple more strokes until she pulled out.

letting out a whistle as she watched the way your cum dripped out of you, at how your thick thighs shook while trying to hold yourself up but failing miserably.

she took you into her strong arms, turned you around and held you close, tongue slipping into your mouth and you couldn’t stop the contented hum that slipped past your lips as you tasted yourself on her tongue.

“you good now?” she asked, her tone much softer compared to earlier as you blushed “or do we have to go for another round so I can get it through your head that you look gre-“

“n-no,” you couldn’t help but laugh as your hands flattened against her chest “I’m okay now… you were right, I was being irrational.”

“talk about an understatement,” she lets out a tsk “tomorrow we’re heading out and buying new clothes that fit you. and I don’t wanna hear another word from you complaining about the way you look again. got it?”

you couldn’t the smile that teased at the corners of your lips as you nodded “okay, I promise.”

she smirked, pecking you one last time “good.”

[i-cant-sing]

TT AU PART 13

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Part 12 is here. Part 14 is here! Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"I cant do this."

He rolls his eyes. "Not with that attitude." He runs a hand through his hair before nodding at you to follow him. You both enter the dance studio that his grandfather built for his wife inside the house because he loved her and well, he had the money.

"Silas, no one can learn ballet in a month." You state again and he lets out an exhale while Cadbury is bringing in about a dozen of ballet flats. "Even if your grandmother were to try and teach me, I still wont be good enough to perform in front of the queen-"

"Your voice is shrill and piercing and thoroughly unpleasant."

You blink at him before scowling. "A simple "shut up" would suffice, you know."

Silas glances at you. "What is this really about? Are you pretending to have low self esteem so I could offer you sympathy?"

"Excuse me?" Your tone sharpened. "Not that I like to remind anyone of the favours I do, but maybe you have forgotten that I literally saved your social image and status from being tarnished yesterday? Or did you forget about our Nikkah?"

Silas suddenly leaned down, bringing his face close to yours. You backed away, and he tilted his head slightly. "And I'm eternally grateful for that, missus, but the Nikkah saved your image too. Must I remind you that I converted to Islam too?"

"Because it benefitted you, not me." You spat out, only to inhale sharply as he gripped your chin firmly.

"As is the stipend I've been paying you, yet you fail to write a single article on the murders."

He pouted, feigning hurt. "Besides, are you saying I am not a real Muslim? That I have malicious intentions? Doesnt that go against your teachings- what is it? Not to judge someone?"

"I dont need to judge when its all so apparent-"

"Ah, good to see the love birds again!" Sarah's voice made you two pull away from each other. She clasped her hands as she made her way towards you two.

"Nana." Silas greeted her and kissed her cheeks. "Thank God you're here. My sweetheart is so concerned over this performance, even though I've assured her many times that she will be learning from the best. There's just no way she would mess this up!"

Sarah laughed heartily. "Stop buttering me up! And she is right to be concerned. Anyone would be nervous to perform in front of an audience, especially the queen!"

Silas wrapped one arm each around your and Sarah's shoulders, pulling you two close to him. "I only see a queen and a princess here. There's no need to be nervous. Just have fun!"

Just have fun? What kind of bullshit motivation is that-

Sarah smiled and nodded. "He's right, Y/n. As long as you're having fun, you're going to be just fine darling!"

-

Colin never thought he'd have to resort to day drinking.

And yet here he is, adding whatever he could grab his hands on and fill the flask with and mixing it in his coffee.

I need this. He reasoned with himself. Its not that much, just small doses to keep me sane when Y/n comes.

And then you do, in your Sherlock Holmes disguise, cheerfully greeting him before going to Will's office to work on the murder story.

He takes another sip of his coffee as he tries to process... well, everything.

Why was I attracted to you? Why am I still attracted to you even though I acted as a witness to your wedding with that rich bastard-

Another sip. He scowled before adding some more liquour, then he sipped it. Better.

Whats the best way to get over a crush? Crush? Is that what you were? An infatuation, a passing by fancy? So, how do I get over-

Wait. He set his mug down. You know that he and the boys all know that your marriage to Silas is a sham. You never really hid the fact but now they had all witnessed that it was just a rushed, possibly contractual marriage that Silas wants to save his ass.

So the marriage is bound to end. He doesnt have to get over you. No, not really. If anything, I should be spending more time with you. Yes. Yes! This way, when you and Silas end things, Colin will be right there to comfort you and support you! He needs to be the first man there after you dump Silas, lest anyone else gets ideas and wants to marry you as well.

Colin got up and managed to make his way to his boss's office without bumping into anyone. He's going to ask to work on the murder story and then you two will spend time-

"No. Keep working on the asylum story. We have enough people on the murder case." His boss dismissed him.

Colin slumped in his desk as he looked at the coffee mug. Eh, what the hell? He took another sip and another solution popped in his head.

If he cant help you with the murder story, then perhaps you can help him with the asylum story!

-

Silas handed you the invite.

"How did you get it so fast?" You asked, examining the small paper with elegant writing. It was the invite to the Gentleman's club, the one Henry owns. You'd asked Silas to get you an invite to what was an exclusive, members only club (when you tried entering the club, the men at the front laughed you out.)

Silas looked at you unamused, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Must I remind you who I am?"

A pompous ass?

"Of course not, my duke." You said mockingly, before raising a brow at him. "I suppose it would make sense for you to get easy access to shady places like this. You might be their popular customer."

"Oh darling, I'm popular everywhere." Silas shot back before dismissing you with his hand. "You can go now."

"What? You arent going to ask me why I'm going there?" You asked him. "Maybe you dont care that I am going there, but arent you worried about Mrs Fitzgerald or Duchess Y/n being in a place like that?"

Silas shrugged nonchalantly. "No." He leaned back in his chair. "I trust you not to screw up or entangle yourself in scandals. But even if you do end up in trouble, I will stand by you."

"You will?" You couldn’t hide the disbelief in your tone.

He nodded. "Of course. Look, I know we are in this... unconventional relationship and it appears that I couldnt care less about your existence, but you still carry my surname next to yours. And I wont allow anyone to disrespect what or who is associated with me. So, rest assured-" He leans forward, resting his arms on the mahogany desk and clasped his hands. "you have my support in all your endeavours, Mrs Silas."

A small smile formed on your lips. Maybe he's not so bad.

"Thank you, Silas- oh, can you drop me off there?" You knew he was going to leave in the carriage soon.

"No, I dont want my beautiful, pure bred stallions to go through those dirty streets. You can walk."

Jerk.

You stomped out of his study, not noticing the butler going in after you with the dessert you'd made for yourself last night.

"And what's this?" Silas asked him as he took a bite of the decadent, gooey chocolatey dessert.

"Uh, the duchess called it "brown-ies", but I've never heard of it before." Cadburry watched Silas ate it and sighed dreamily. "Do you like it, sir?"

"No." Silas pushed the empty plate towards him. "But I'd rather not have grandmother eat her cooking and say something. Bring me the leftovers."

"Y/n- oh, are you going somewhere?" Sarah asked just as you were about to leave.

"Yes, um- I'm going to meet my friends." Its not like you could tell her that you worked in the paper disguised as a man.

"Male friends?" She asked.

"Yes. My old flatmates." You watched her smile falter. "What?"

"Nothing, dearie. Enjoy your time with them! I hope you'll join us for dinner." You nodded and left while Sarah looked for her grandson.

"Where's Silas? I must speak to him this instant." She asked the maid, who informed her that the duke had went to play tennis just moments ago.

"Tennis?"

The maid nodded. "Yes. With his uncles."

Sarah was a little surprised to hear that. Not the tennis part, no. Silas is extremely well at any sport he plays, but she knows her sons arent ones who are good at athletics, let alone at a sport as strenuous as tennis.

An idea popped in her head.

-

You stood outside the Gentleman's club, watching people go in. Smoothing your hands over your black velvet dress, you made your way to the door.

After handing them your invitation, they let you inside and you saw a waiter handing everyone masquerade masks from a silver tray. Perhaps it was the theme for the club tonight, or maybe the club just gave masks to everyone to conceal their identities.

You were given a black and gold mask that covered the upper half of your face. As you adjusted the mask over your face, you heard a familiar voice.

"I need to see her. Now." You looked over your shoulder and saw Benjamin harshly whisper to one of the waiters. "She told me to come and I'm late as it is. Dont make her wait any longer!" You turned your head away as the waiter lead Benjamin into the club, all while Benjamin yanked a mask off the tray and pulled it over his head.

What is Benny doing here?

You quickly followed him inside, lest you lost sight of him, which you did as soon as you stepped into the main hall and were immediately stunned to your place at the sight.

Loud jazz music played by a band live, smell of smoke and alcohol filled the air and people. There were so many people, despite the club being "exclusive". And as your eyes scanned them, trying to spot familiar faces, your heart dropped at the realisation of what they were doing.

This was... an adult club. That kind of adult club, the one where there are absolutely no limitations on who is doing what with whom, all drunk on pleasure and drugs of course, no inhibitions. You spotted men with men, women with men, and more than one person pleasing another man.

Thats why this is an exclusive club, why they gave everyone masks. Because if word got out that a someone was here doing.... something that was generally a taboo and even punishable by both God and the law, well it would put them in huge trouble. People came here to let loose, to give in to their darkest desires.

What the hell is Benny doing here?

Averting your eyes, you looked for Benjamin and spotted him from afar, going into a room.

Oh God, please dont let it be a- please dont let sweet Benny be a depraved creep.

You waited for him to come out and after about 20 minutes, the door finally opened.

Benny walked out first, adjusting his mask again and then leaving. You're about to follow him, perhaps even confront him for being here when someone else walks out of the room as well.

A tall woman wearing a bright red, backless dress and a golden mask concealing her identity. But what really stood out were two things- first, her fiery red-orange hair that was styled into voluminous Hollywood waves. And second was her figure, her athletic built, or more specifically her broad shoulders and muscled arms.

Everything about this woman screamed important. And if it werent for her looks that demanded attention, then it was certainly her aura. People parted the way when she walked past them, all looking at her as if she was their saviour, an angel or divinity among men, which is ironic considering where you were.

You jumped as you felt an arm snake around your waist.

"What the hell?!" You looked at the culprit, who turned out to be a blonde woman drunk off her head.

"Oh dont be like that! Come on, love, let me show you a good time-" She tried to touch you again but you backed away before she could.

"No, thank you." You dismissed her, going back to looking at the red head.

"Prude." The blonde muttered before following your gaze. "Oh so thats what you're into? Well, put me in a red wig and we can play like that!"

"No, thanks." You huffed, eyes still trained on the woman in red.

The blonde scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, its not like you'd be able to sleep with the club owner."

"She's the club owner? I thought Mr Blackwood owned this place."

"He does, but Lady Scarlett there runs this place, from entertainment to management. She does it all!"

Lady Scarlett? Fitting name.

Pushing away the blonde one more time, you looked for Lady Scarlett, except you lost sight of her now. You scanned the entire ballroom, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Shit." You mumbled, turning around only to stumble back as you came face-to-face with her, or well... face-to-chest. She towered over you.

Her bright red lips smiled knowingly at you. "Looking for me?" She asked in a sultry voice, stalking towards you until you were backed up against the wall.

"N-no-" You yelped as she suddenly grabbed both of your wrists in one hand and pinned them above your head.

You stared at her wide eyed as she leaned down, hovering inches away from your face and thats when it hit you-

Lady Scarlett is a man.

Of course! The muscled arms, the manly built, and now on close inspection, you saw the clean shave under the makeup too.

"Y-you're a man." You stated in disbelief, hoping to catch her or him, off guard. What even is he? A drag queen? A trans? You dont know if they existed in victorian era.

Scarlett tilted her head. "So? Are you the only one who is allowed to cross dress as the other gender?"

What? No, no way she knows-

She leaned in closer, whispering in your ear. "Did I catch you off guard, Mr Holmes?"

She knows!

"How- how did you-"

She smirked. "I know everyone that is associated with Mr Blackwood." She brought a hand up to your face, and you noticed a golden ring on her ring finger. She cupped your face. "And I know for a fact Henry wouldnt like his latest infatuation snooping around in a place like this. So..." She leaned into you again, staring into your eyes. "Leave."

You didnt have to be told twice. Lady Scarlett, that cross dresser creeped you out, even more so when she already knew you.

Stumbling out of the club, you removed your mask, dropping it to the ground. The fresh night air filled your lungs and cleared out the smokey air from the club. It was quiet outside, considering it was way past midnight and everyone was home now.

And I have to walk all the way home. You huffed, rubbing your arms. Because my husband would rather I get hypothermia than let his precious ponies walk through these streets.

You turn around, walking away from the club to see if there was a carriage available at this time, when you hear a shrill scream from the alleyway you're walking past.

And there it is- a woman lying in a puddle of her own blood as huge, dark figure slashed her face over and over again. The moonlight hit the woman's face- a blonde woman-

-the blonde from the club.

Frozen in your place, the figure stood up and looked at you, not at all looking startled at being caught mutiliating someone. It was definitely a man, huge stature, and he stared at you, the dark night concealing his identity. He slowly bent down to pick something up, a top hat, dusting it off before placing it on his head.

And then he tipped his hat at you.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck-

It wasnt until he took a step towards you that you finally broke out of your trance and ran. You ran and ran, not even risking a look back, not realising where you were running off to until you burst through their door, out of breath and paler than white paint.

"Y/n?" Colin rushed towards you, the Shepherd and Liam rushing into the living room as Colin helped you inside. "What happened? What's wrong?" He feared, as did all the boys, that Silas had done something to you.

"I- I- I-" You shake your head, the image of the dark figure running through your mind, the hat, the long cloak, the knife- it finally pieced together.

"I think I saw Jack the Ripper."

-

You sat at the police station with Colin. After explaining everything, he'd convinced you to report the murder.

The detective lead you inside the interrogation room, motioning for you to sit down as you began giving your statement.

"And who did you think the murderer was?"

"Jack the Ripper." Your answer made him roll his eyes. "And who might that be, miss?"

"I dont know." The investigator shook his head exasperated. "Of course you dont." He muttered, then sighed.

"So, what were you doing at this club?"

"Me?" You didnt pause for long. "I was invited there. My- my husband wanted me to attend on his behalf."

"Your husband-" he paused, reading your surname on the paper. "Fitzgerald? Wait, you're Mrs Silas Fitzgerald?" You nodded, making him sigh. "Guess it makes sense for you to be there..."

Whats that supposed to mean?

"Did you see anyone familiar there?"

"No." You answered curtly, before adding another detail. "Everyone was wearing masks. Couldnt recognise anyone even if I wanted to."

What? I'm not gonna rat out Benjamin and make him the prime suspect without gathering all the facts before.

It's definitely not because I have a soft spot for him since he reminds me of Qasim so much. Nope.

The door suddenly swung open and in walked what you assumed was the detectives superior since the man got up.

"Is this the witness for club murder?" The higher up asked him.

"Yes sir, she was just giving her statement-"

"No need. Dismiss the witness and the case. It's been handled." He told the detective who only nodded.

"Handled by who? You can't just dismiss the case!" You exclaimed getting up. But before he could reply, someone walked in from behind him.

"You can go now, Smith. I'll see Miss Y/n gets home safely." Henry patted the higher ups shoulder who left with the detective.

"What are you doing, Henry?" You crossed your arms.

"I could ask you the same." He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms as well.

"I'm reporting a murder that happened outside your club! I saw him-"

"Saw who? Jack the Ripper?" He scoffed. "You think you saw him, but all you really saw was a dark shadow."

You shake your head. "I did see him-!"

"And how do you know that he's Jack the Ripper?" He pushed himself off the door frame, walking closer to you. "How do you know that he's the Ripper when no one knows who the man is?!"

You pursed your lips. You could argue that the victim profile and post mortem show a matching pattern but you doubt Henry is going to listen to reason.

"Even so, you should still let me give my statement. Why are you adamant on me not giving one? A woman was murdered for God's sake!" You try to walk past him, but he grabs your arm and yanks you back, making your chest collide with his.

"She was my employee. She worked for the club. And you-" his face hardened. "-you are insulting her death by making it a public frenzy. By stating that some sick nobody, someone who was nicknamed by the papers just to strike fear in people's hearts, killed her. I will not let you use her death so that your paper could make a quick buck! Jack the Ripper is a nobody!"

-

"Why do you think Blackwood's trying to cover up the murder?" Colin asked you as you two made your way towards your next destination.

"I dont know." You huffed. "Maybe he knows who the murderer is? Maybe he's protecting his business? Surely, if people were to hear that a serial killer made an appearance near his club, he'd lose clients."

"Or maybe he's the killer." You stopped and looked at him. Colin looked at you knowingly. "It would make sense for him to be Jack the Ripper, or at least the man who murdered that woman. It is very suspicious of him to probably bribing the coppers to drop the case."

You shake your head. "Its too obvious."

He rolled his eyes. "What? So Henry cant be the murderer because its “too obvious?” People make mistakes-"

"Not Henry." You cut him off. "He's too smart, calculating. There's got to be another reason for him to be sweeping this all under the carpet."

Colin shakes his head in disbelief, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked ahead. "We're here."

You followed his gaze and saw the building. The sign on the gate read-

"Aveline's Asylum"

"Really? Right now?" You asked Colin, who just smiled cheekily.

"It'll take your mind off things. Just take a break and help me on this assignment and we can go back to speculating what Blackwood's motives are." He raised his brows. "Plus, I think you'll enjoy this one."

You followed him inside the asylum, walking through the lush green gardens and seeing the pristine white building ahead, you wondered how this would help Colin's "exposing horrendous hospital environments and patient care" article when all of this reall just screamed "rehab for the rich".

"Shouldnt we go to an asylum that is in much worse conditions than this? Possibly next to a workhouse?" You asked him, but Colin just smiled. "Why did you choose this place, Colin?”

"You'll see." He says before whispering to you. "Remember your script. And... action!”

While pretending to be insane (which was easy because all you had to say was that you don’t think being a mom or stay-at-home wife is your life’s purpose), you saw a familiar figure there. And he saw you too.

“Y/n? Colin?” Benjamin looked surprised. “What are you two doing here?”

“Working on an article.” Colin replied, glancing at the way you’d gotten quiet, staring at Benjamin.

“Oh. Right, the horrible healthcare environment. But why this place? Its practically one of the finest asylums, housing mostly the wealthy of London.”

Colin nodded. “I know! But I have a hunch about this place-”

“What are you doing here?” You cut him off.

“Me? Oh, I’m here to give haircuts.” Ben chuckled nervously. “Its not a noble cause, but the wealthy unwell patients do pay a lot.”

“Mmhm, where’s your hair kit?” You remember distinctly that Ben was very particular about using his own scissors, so he often carried his own.

Ben looked caught off-guard by your question, but he quickly recovered. “The nurses provided me with their own. Cant carry scissors around an asylum now, can I?”

How convenient.

Colin continued to make small talk with Ben, while you studied him. Even if you didn’t tell anyone that you saw Ben at the club the night of the murder, doesn’t mean that you didn’t suspect him. For all you know, appearances can be deceiving and this sweet man may just be the infamous Jack the Ripper.

Blonde haired, the kindest eyes, the sweetest smile, a golden retriever in human form- could Benjamin really have killed all those women so brutally? Then again, Ted Bundy was also known for his good looks and superficial charm.

Am I really comparing Benny to Ted Bundy? God, I hope I’m wrong.

“I should go now. See you at home?” Ben asked you, hopeful.

“Maybe.” You shrugged, Ben’s smile faltering at your answer. He then raised his hand to shake Colin’s and thats when you noticed a distinctly familiar golden ring on his hand.

The same one you’d seen on Lady Scarlett’s hand.

And just like that, everything fell into place.

-

By the time you’d reached home, you’d pieced out the story. Ben being at the exclusive club and being discrete about it, seen in a room with Lady Scarlett, both wearing the same rings-

He’s in a relationship with her. Or him.

Thats why Ben was at that club! Homosexuality or anything else that isn’t heterosexuality was simply not accepted in Victorian England, and was possibly punishable by law! Just look at Oscar Wilde! Ben is dating Scarlett, keeping it discrete, he never committed any murders because he’s not Jack the Ripper. He’s just not straight!

Oh, I’m so glad you’re not the Ripper, Benny. I knew you weren’t capable of committing such heinous crimes.

As for why he was at the asylum, maybe he’s telling the truth. He did come to give the rich patients a haircut because he needs the money to maintain Scarlett’s lifestyle or maybe be rich enough to whisk her/him away from the club.

Benny is such a gentleman.

Now that Benny is no longer a suspect, that leaves Henry to be the main suspect. Maybe he’s not the one killed the woman, maybe he hired someone? Or maybe Henry’s not the killer either, its just too- obvious.

“Why do you think Henry stopped me from reporting the murder?” You asked Silas as you whisked the eggs before adding them to the pan. Silas had entered the kitchen the moment he heard you were cooking, though he did shoot you a weird look for making scrambled eggs at 11 pm. With you running around London all day, you hadn’t found time to eat until now, and you were just looking for a quick meal really.

“He probably doesn’t want you scaring off his customers. If word gets out that a murderer, or as you claim- “The Ripper” was seen near the club, then people wont be frequenting the place. Or perhaps he’s protecting the murderer?” Silas suggests, swallowing as the smell of butter wafts through the kitchen.

You add cubes of cold butter in, then look at him. “What? You don’t believe that I saw the Ripper?”

“I believe that if you really saw the Ripper, then you wouldn’t still be alive. He had the time and the opportunity to get rid of you.Why else would the notorious killer would let a witness get away?” Silas crosses his arms over his chest, leaning against the kitchen counter near the stove.

“Maybe because he targets prostitutes? All of his previous victims match that profile.”

“Like he could tell a difference-”

“Are you saying I look like a prostitute?” You dished out the eggs. “No, you’re saying that. I’m saying that the man you saw kill that woman was just an amateur who was caught offguard by you, otherwise he would’ve attacked you too.” Silas states before grabbing the plate of buttery scrambled eggs on toast from your hands.

“Hey! Thats mine-” “My kitchen, my eggs.” He smirked before walking off. “You can make yourself more, I need to feed my dogs first.”

You glared at him until he left the kitchen, not knowing whether he really was going to feed it to the dogs or it was just a lie disguised as an insult so that he could eat it himself.

It was the latter. Always.

-

The next day, after you’d taken another ballet lesson from Sarah, you were about to go out to investigate the club again but Sarah had other plans for you.

“Y/n, I need you to stay at home today.”

“Oh, is everything alright?” You ask. She never made you stay home before. “Are we having company?”

“No. I think that you should play some sports to keep yourself fit. As a ballerina, it is important to keep both the mind and the body sound, and what better way to achieve that than by playing in the sun!” She lead you outside towards the tennis court, hidden by the huge bushes for privacy from outsiders.

“Tennis?” You ask her, and she confirms it. “Yes. Do you know how to play?”

Do I know how to- if I wasn’t so obsessed with history and sciences (and my mom scared that me wearing a skirt would attract predators), I had plans on playing professionally. Qasim and I used to play tennis at the club he’d won a membership in. We were both very competitive but he was just always a little better than me. He always knew my moves, he read me like an open book.

I was second only to Qasim though. Everyone else? They ate dust.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled at her. “Who am I playing with?”

“Me.” Silas spoke from behind you, dressed in all-white tennis wear. He looked at Sarah unamused. “Nana, I thought you said you had a worthy opponent for me.”

You shot him a glare, but Sarah came to your defense. “Now, now. You don’t know how capable your wife is. And I’m willing to bet that she’d make you run out of breath, Silas.”

You smiled cheekily as Silas scoffed. “We’ll see.” Sarah places a hand on your back. “Why don’t you go get changed, dear? I had the maids prepare an outfit for you.” When you left, Sarah looked at Silas. “Now Silas, I know you play exceptionally well but you must remember that this match is more of a way to spend time with your wife. Not a way to show off. So, be a gentleman, hm?”

You huffed as you returned to the tennis court. What the hell is this? Silas gets to wear a shirt and pants and I have to wear a full length dress with a corset and a hat?!

Mom would probably have let me gone pro if this was the official tennis wear for women.

Sarah sat on the side lines and watched you two play. Silas let you serve first and after a couple of back-and-forth, you won the first point. And then the next. And the next.

“Ah, you’re doing fantastic, Y/n!” Sarah cheered before standing up when the butler informed her that a guest has come to see her. “I’ll be back! You two keep playing!”

As Sarah left, you couldn’t help but tease Silas. What? He still makes you sleep on the floor! “So, how does it feel to lose to a girl?”

“I wouldn’t know.” And with that, Silas threw the ball in the air and served.

The ball shot past your head, just centimetres away from hitting you.

“What the hell? I wasn’t ready-”

“Lame excuses dont work on me.” He pulled out another ball and bounced it. “Are you ready now, duchess?”

You scowled at him before getting in position. “I’m ready, jerk.”

You lost two of the three matches. The first match you almost won was because Sarah was there and Silas was going easy on you, but when Sarah left, Silas regained all those points by serving topspin and slice serves. By the second match, you were finally able to return his fast serves, but now Silas used his speed and your lack of because of your heavy dress and made you run around all over the court trying to return his fast shots. By the third match, you were all out of breath but not out of determination. So, Silas decided that now would be the time to use your body as target practise and he hit the ball over your legs and arms, only stopping when one shot hit you in the head and made you fall on the ground.

“Are you okay?” He asked, barely suppressing the glee in his voice. He held out a hand to help you up, but you swatted it away and got up on your own.

“Finish the game.” You growled and he raised his hands in surrender before returning to his side of the court. For the rest of the third match, he missed all the shots you served and let you win. And he did it so openly, not even being courteous enough to hide his intentions.

Sarah watched you return inside the house, looking all sweaty and angry as you stomped unto your room. Silas trailed in behind, a satisfied grin on his face and Sarah shook her head at him disappointedly. “What did you do, Silas?”

“Nothing. I even let her win the last round, but she’s still angry.” Sarah looked at him admonishingly, making him sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll go talk to her. The things I do for you, Nana.”

“The things you do for love, Silas.” She corrected him.

Sure. Silas rolled his eyes mentally. I “love” Y/n.

Silas entered the bedroom and saw you had showered and changed into new clothes. “Going somewhere? Perhaps to get some handkerchiefs to wipe all the sweat and tears?” He watched you glare at him through the mirror and he chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’m just teasing. But seriously, where are you going? I could give you a ride.”

“I’m going to an asylum with Colin.” You huff, packing some things in your small purse. Silas nodded. “Good idea to get yourself finally checked-” He dodged the hairbrush you threw at his head, chuckling. “Now now, duchess. It isn’t exactly speaking much for your mental health for you to be chucking things at your dear husband.”

Ignoring his antics, you slipped on your shoes, walking out of the room. He trailed behind you. “Dont be mad. I’m just playing around. Come on, I’ll drop you off at Saint Peters asylum. Its on my way to work.”

“I’m not going to Saint Peters. I’m going to Aveline’s.” You stated, ready to walk off but he grabbed your arm.

“What?” You looked at his shocked face. “What?” You repeated his question. Why did he suddenly look so pale.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his grip tightening when you tried to move. “Which asylum?”

“Aveline’s.” You frowned, grabbing his hand and removing it from your arm. Silas expression paled further.

“Why?”

You shrugged. “Colin wants to do an article on horrible asylum conditions and treatment of patients-”

“Dont.” Silas ordered more than he suggested. “That place- don’t go there.”

“And why not?” You looked at him skeptically. “Colin wants to do a piece on the place-”

“Pick another asylum. I can get you access to any other.” Silas ignored your question, averting his eyes. “You will not go there, and you will not write a piece on that asylum.”

You grabbed his arm to make him look at you. “What are you hiding, Silas?”

Silas stared at you before yanking his arm out of your grasp. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just- do as I say.” He raised finger, wagging it at your warningly. “I’m telling you- you will not go there again, Y/n. And if I find out that you or Colin or anyone else tried to write about that place, I will shut down that paper and make sure none of them find a job ever.”

You watched Silas leave you there standing dumbfounded.

Did he really just threaten me?

This bitch.

-

Silas watched you leave from the window. He knows you wont listen to him, knows that its inevitable to try to stop you from going to Aveline, so he already sent someone to bribe the staff to not let you on the asylum premises. He’s not worried about who you’re meeting or where you’re going, just as long as its not Aveline.

No. He closed his eyes, painful memories flashing through his mind. You cant know. You cant know.

He sat down on his chair, trying to think of ways to divert your attention from the asylum. You’re as stubborn as a mule, you wont listen to him. So he has to create distractions for you.

Jack the Ripper!

Of course, the murder case!

“Cadburry!” He called his butler. “Arrange me an invite for the Gentleman’s club. Now.”

You were sitting in the boys apartment, Benjamin playing with your hair out of habit, braiding it, unbraiding it, then braiding it again. Colin sat confused. “Why cant we go to the asylum today?”

“I’m not in the mood to see depressing white halls today. Besides, I have an errand to run.” You lean your head further back for Benny.

“And what that might be?” Colin was intrigued.

“Girly errand. You wont understand.” You dismiss him. “But we’ll go to Aveline’s again, thats for sure.” You felt Benny tug your hair at that statement.

“Ow! Benny!” You glare at him. Ben shakes out of his daze, apologising profusely. “Sorry, sorry! I was just lost in my thoughts.”

A coy smile formed on your lips. Lost in thought? Oh, I know exactly what kind of thoughts you’re having, Benny.

Colin stood up with a sigh. “Alright then. I’ll go to office and start writing down a draft.” You nodded as he left you alone with Ben.

Once you heard the door click, you immediately turned around. “Hey, Benny.”

He gave you a gentle smile. “Hey, Y/n.”

“So…” you wiggled your brows at him. “What’s going on with you?”

“Hmm… nothing much really. I got a new customer who wanted a toupee. Apparently word got around that I’m a very skilled barber, no matter how much hair one has or lack of, I can make it work!”

“Yes, thats lovely Benny, but-” you cleared your throat. “I meant, whats going on with you, personally. You look happier, livelier these days.”

He shrugged, offering you another sweet smile. “I guess that’s just the effect you have on people around you.”

Ugh! Stop being so charming, Benny!

“Thanks, Benny. But… I don’t know, I feel like there’s something different about you.” You tried another approach. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I wont ever judge you or anything.”

Though he was smiling, you saw something flicker in his eyes. Doubt? Fear?

“What do you mean, Y/n?” He asked, his voice stable as usual.

Your eyes studied him.

“Did you meet someone new?”

There it is! That flicker in his eyes. His face didn’t let anything away but his eyes, you saw it.

“Yes.” Finally, we’re getting somewhere. “I met you.”

Stupid Benny. Annoying Benny.

Sighing, you realise that maybe he’s just not ready to come out yet. And that I shouldn’t take it personally because I am close with him and he could tell me anything, just like Qasim would. It would be unfair to force Ben to tell you about Lady Scarlett before he’s ready.

“Thanks, Benny.” You said, hiding your disappointment. “I have to go now. Have to go… run that errand.”

“Oh, need me to come?” He got up with you. You shake your head. “No, I’ll manage on my own.”

Why would I tell you when you wont tell me about your love?

-

You were now standing outside the club again. You had initially returned to the back alley to investigate the crime scene again but it had been scrubbed clean and Henry had somehow managed to get a permit to start construction to expand the club further.

He was erasing the crime scene. Henry was trying to hide something.

Speak of the devil, you saw Henry exit the club and get in his carriage. Once you were sure he’d left, you made your way towards the club entrance, still having the invite from last time, only for the guards to stop you.

“I’m sorry but Mr Blackwood has forbidden you from entering the club, Miss Y/n.” One guard said, holding a hand up to halt you.

“Mrs Fitzgerald.” You corrected him, hoping to use the name to get by. “I am the duchess of Westminster!”

“Forgives us, Miss Y/n, but Mr Blackwood specifically instructed us to not let you in and he also instructed us not to address you by anything but Miss Y/n or- um…” The other guard trailed off, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“Or?” You sneered at him to continue.

“Or… future-Mrs Blackwood.” He mumbled but you heard him loud and clear.

I’m going to kill him.

“Listen here and listen clear!” Your voice took a threatening tone, though you’re sure it would look comical to an outsider seeing a woman of your stature trying to intimidate men who were towering over you with their buff physiques.

“I am going to only be addressed as MRS FITZGERALD and you will let me in this club right now or I will have my husband, the duke of Westminster, shut this place down before your twat boss would dare to associate his name with me again!” You yelled with your nostrils flared. “Now, you will march in and inform Lady Scarlett that I’m here to see her. And if she says no, tell her I know about the rings!”

The guards shared a look, probably trying to communicate telepathically whether to let you in or not.

Fortunately for you, your huffing and puffing seemed to work and one of them walked in before returning moments later.

“Please wait for a short while Lady Scarlett entertains some guests.”

After about 20 long minutes, during which you were sure Henry would turn up and have you carried off the premises, the guards finally lead you inside.

“This way, future Mrs Blackwood.” You shot him a glare but didn’t say anything since you were inside the club anyways. They lead you up the stairs towards the room that you had seen Ben go into the last time you were here.

The door opened and you saw a large bed on one side, silk sheets and plush cushions adorning it, and a huge vanity in the other corner, full of makeup and expensive jewels, all arranged in an orderly manner. Then there was a table next to the vanity on which sat a variety of beautiful red haired wigs.

“They’re made from real hair.” A voice said from behind you. You turned to see Lady Scarlett, wearing a maroon robe and a black mask covering her identity. Her trademark red hair, still styled as beautifully as the first time you saw it and that bright red lipstick on her lips. “Benjamin was sweet enough to get them for me.”

She walked past you and sat down on a couch next to the window that opened to the balcony outside, and then she lit up a cigarette, holding it in a vintage cigarette holder.

Not that I would ever condone a nasty habit such as smoking, but she looked absolutely badass in that moment.

“What do you want, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett let out a huge exhale of smoke.

“Fitzgerald. I know about the rings.” You state, watching her take another drag.

“What rings?” She asked, feigning innocence.

“The golden rings.” You narrow your eyes. “I saw it on your hand that night and I saw it on Benjamin’s hand as well. I know whats going on, and I’m here to talk about that.” Taking a deep breath, you blurted out your suspicions.

“I know you and Benjamin are in a relationship.”

She looked up at you expectedly, not at all alarmed at being caught. Then again, why would she be caught off guard? Considering the line of business she’s in, she probably has practiced her poker face.

“Is that so, Mrs Blackwood?” Scarlett’s lip’s curled up. “So what?”

So what?

“Look, I mean no harm, but I- I care about Benjamin a lot. He’s like family to me, and I know its not my place but I am very protective of him and I just… I’m just here to make sure that this is not some sort of game for you. I don’t want you playing with his feelings, so if you’re not serious about him then I suggest you end things with him now before it gets too messy.”

Scarlett looked at you before chuckling. “As you wish, Mrs Blackwood.” He stood up with a click of his tongue. “Now, is that all or do you have any more shocking news to pass on to me, Mrs Blackwood? I suggest you do it now because you wont be stepping a foot in this club again.”

“Its Mrs Fitzgerald. And I don’t plan on returning to this depraved scum either.”

“Depraved scum, huh?” Scarlett tilted her head slightly in a mocking manner. “Since you insist on calling yourself Mrs Fitzgerald so proudly, let me show you something as well.” He opened the door and lead you towards the top of the stairwell, from where you could see everyone and everything down below on the dance floor.

She nodded her head to the far right corner and your heart dropped for a second. Is that-

“Mr Fitzgerald seems to be enjoying himself. Though not all that much.” Scarlett said as your eyes remained focused on Silas who was sitting on a chair, looking uninterested by the different women who surrounded him. “Maybe he likes boys. I’ll send some his way-” You rushed out of the club, not able to hear another word or see Silas for another moment longer.

-

Its been a couple of days since you went to the club. Of course, when you arrived home and waited for Silas to return, who upon your questioning about his whereabouts claimed he was meeting a businessman.

He lied.

You tried to distract yourself by taking more ballet lessons from Sarah, but still your attention lingered on him.

Why was he there?

You then tried to divert your mind towards work, and then here you are, sitting on your desk with a blank paper, ready to be filled with words.

Why was he there?

Dropping your pen because you knew you weren’t going to be able to get anything done until you processed your feelings about this.

What feelings? Certainly not jealousy because I am far more mature than this. Its just-

I thought he had standards. Taste. Sure I might not be fine wine, but I’m certainly better than those skank-

Nope. I am a woman. I will not be bringing other women down because of a man.

But Silas… how dare he? Yes, how dare he?! I am not jealous, I am insulted! How dare he act like he’s a polished aristocrat and I’m just ditzy, poorer than a church mouse, a NOBODY, when he goes around prancing his repute and himself in the utter gutters of London?

Maybe he’s just hypersexual. Yes, he’s a depraved, disgusting individual and I married him. Great. So the first man I married, had a NIKKAH with, turned out to be lying, cheating, piece of-

Why did he lie?

Its not like he expects me to sleep with him. If he did, why would he still make me sleep on the floor?

Baldwin would’ve never made me sleep on the floor, always covered me with his cloak because he knew how much the cold bothered me.

And he’s always so rude to me! He beat me at tennis, quite literally!

Salauddin always lost to me in chess. And he let me rub my wins in his face too!

Not to mention, how uncaring he is to my feelings!

Ibrahim always put my happiness above everything. He chose to wait for me, until I was safe- felt safe.

And of all of them, I ended up marrying Silas.

How dare he?

Pushing yourself back into your desk, you began writing down furiously. Fuck Silas, fuck Henry, and fuck Lady Scarlett! I WILL go back to Aveline Asylum, I WILL expose the the Ripper and- if I have time, maybe find Benny a better significant other!

“Woah there- what are you writing?” Colin came up behind you, frowning at the title he read.

“The Ripper strikes again! Murder outside the exclusive club for the wealthy freaks!” Colin looked at you. “Have you gone bonkers?”

“Yes.” You snapped. “You cant talk me out of it, so why don’t you go and get us access into Aveline asylum again. Discreetly, this time.”

By the time everyone was going home, you had finished your article and dropped it on the editor’s desk just as he was about to leave.

“Read this. Trust me, its worth it.” You look over your shoulder. “And I have a witness ready to go public- Mrs Fitzgerald.” Of course, the editor wouldn’t ever figure out that you are Mrs Fitzgerald, not Mr Holmes.

-

However, you were a little surprised to see that he hadn’t published your article in the paper the next morning. Storming to work, you quickly made your way towards the editor’s office, barging in without knocking.

“Hello there, love.” He smiled cheekily. Instead of your editor, Henry Blackwood sat in his chair, his legs propped up on the desk. “I was waiting for you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“What? You can barge into my business, but I can’t swing by yours?” He asked, feigning hurt.

“No. Now leave.”

“Well then its a good thing that this is also my business now.” Henry grinned, removing his feet from the desk and replacing them with his arms, resting his head in his hand as he stared at your fuming self.

“What?”

“Oh love, you’re looking at your new boss. I just bought the paper this morning.” He winked, standing up and making his way to you. “See, I told you not to come by the club again, I told you to drop the Ripper case, and you didn’t listen either time. So, I’ve come here to tame you. Personally. Seems like you need my undivided attention, kitten-”

“I did drop the Ripper case. I didn’t give my statement to the police!” You exclaimed.

He tutted, wagging his finger at you. “No, but you did write an article. You’re lucky I was here before it got published.”

You frowned. “How- how did you know about the article? I wrote it yesterday, I gave it to the editor at the last moment-”

“I have eyes everywhere, Y/n.” He smirked, leaning down to whisper. “Especially on you, naughty kitten.”

Henry chuckled as he looked at your flushed face, mistaking your anger for bashfulness. He walked out of the door but not before passing another comment to tick you off.

“Nice moustache. Or shall I say… whiskers, kitten?”

-

For the next 3 days, you didn’t leave the house. You didn’t even leave your room. It seemed like all your previous pettiness-driven motivation had run out and dropped you into the well of depression. And here you wallowed in your sadness, taking Silas’s bed even when he was away and looking like a pitiful lump of sadness under the covers.

“What is wrong with you?” Silas asked, exasperated as he sat down on the bed to tie his shoes. “How long will this go on? You have missed your ballet classes and you are worrying grandmother.”

“I’m just sleepy, okay?” You mumbled from under the sheets. “Its not like sleeping on the cold, hard floor is helping me.”

“And it seems like sleeping in my bed hasn’t helped either.” He raised a brow. “Its been 3 days already. This has gone long enough. Now you can either tell me what is wrong or I will have Cadbury drag you out and hose you down in the gardens.”

You shoved the covers down to glare at him. Asshole. You don’t doubt that he would have his butler hose you down.

“I miss… I miss my brother.” You mumbled as you averted your eyes. “Qasim would fix everything for me. He always had a solution, always. And I- I need him right now. To guide me, to handle things for me.”

“So… why don’t you ask for his help?” Silas asked, fixing his tie.

You stared at his back before looking down at your lap. “We’re not on speaking terms… I’m mad at him.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “Well he’s your family, isn’t he? I’m sure you can still talk to him.”

“Cant.” You muttered gloomily, making Silas’s annoyance trigger off.

“And why the bloody hell not?” He turned to glare at you. “You cant get out of my bed! You cant attend work! You cant take your classes! You cant tell me what’s bothering you! And you cant talk to your own brother! Why!? Why?! WHY?!”

You flinched at his harsh town before tears filled your eyes.

“Because… he’s dead.”

Your statement rung in Silas’s ears like a daunting bell. Dead. Dead. Dead.

God, did he feel like shit now.

You threw the covers off you, getting out of bed as you fixed his sheets.

“Sorry for hogging your bed.” You sniffled, using your sleeve to wipe your tears as you walked past him, only for Silas to catch your wrist. With a gentle tug, he had you sitting back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said, sincerely. “I was just… frustrated due to things at work. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“Its fine, whatever. You’re right, I’ll go to work and classes-” He tightened his grip on your wrist when you tried to leave.

“No.” He tilted your chin towards him. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong. I may not be your brother, but I am your husband.”

You stared at him conflicted. Did he really mean it?

He answered your silent question with a gentle squeeze of your hand. “I will fix your problems, Y/n.” He offered a smile. “Your duke is at your service.”

-

After you told Silas your work situation with Henry and how he’s stopping you from writing anything about Jack the Ripper, how you cant get anything done with his shadow looming over you and monitoring everything you do, Silas explained that solution to it was all simple.

“I will buy the paper from Henry.” He stated nonchalantly, as if he was talking about buying eggs not a newspaper company.

“I dont think he will give you the company. He wont put it up for sale-”

“Everything is for sale, Y/n. You just need to find the right price.” He stood up, assuring you he will buy the company. “I’ll get the company, if you promise to put on a great show. You focus on the ballet classes. After all, the show is only a week from now.”

The following seven days were filled with you doing ballet for hours and hours, all with one motivation.

Not to let Silas down.

Because if I let him down, if I embarrass him, then he wont get the paper from Henry. And I wont be able to find Jack the Ripper or help Colin with the asylum! And Silas will lose trust in me and wont let me have my space at the Westminster palace or wherever so that I can work on my time machine-

Time machine! You face palmed. I’ve been so busy with the murders and shitty men that I forgot to build my machine! My way home!

No, after the show, I’m- I’m demanding- I’m moving out. I don’t care if I get the paper or not, I need to build my machine.

“Oh Y/n, what are you doing in the storage- honey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to pass out! Cadbury! Hurry and open the windows!” Sarah guided you out of the dusty store to sit down, fanning you with her hands. “Oh dear, do you hate confined spaces like Silas too?”

You took deep breaths as fresh air flooded in through the windows, furrowing your brows. “What?”

“Nothing dear, I just thought you felt suffocated in closed spaces, like Silas!” She explained. “He cant stay in a room with closed windows for too long, you know.”

Now that she mentions it, she’s right. You don’t remember Silas being in a room without at least a window open, even as winter rolled around. Hell, he still opens the balcony windows in the bedroom as soon as he wakes up, but you thought that was because he hated your guts and wanted to give you an early wake up call by letting the cold air slap your face and rattle your bones.

“Why does he hate confined spaces?” You ask, letting her loosen your corset.

Sarah looked a little hesitant to tell you, but then relented when you asked her again. “He never told me the reason, but I figured it was the night when his mother passed away. Silas… he was just a young boy, he was hiding in his closet. He liked to scare his mother when she came to check on him, and so he often hid in the closet to give her a fright. He saw his mother get murdered while he was in the closet.” She looked down sadly. “Unfortunately, the killer’s identity was hidden by the dark night. Silas wasn’t able to identify who killed his mother, and I suppose he’s blamed himself a little for that incident.”

Damn. Thats… dark. And sad.

Maybe I can excuse Silas for being rude to me at times. Maybe. Just a tad.

The night of the ballet show rolled around quicker than you’d expected. And despite all the hours of practice and Sarah’s countless assurances that you’d be amazing, you knew the reality.

Your performance was barely passable.

From a young age, you were able to critique yourself very well. As Qasim said- “Only you know yourself the best!” And you knew right now, as you stood backstage, peeking through the curtains at the audience and spotting the queen and her family, you were utterly, truly set up for failure.

NO ONE CAN LEARN BALLET IN 2 MONTHS! AT LEAST NOT ENOUGH TO IMPRESS THE QUEEN!

Your stomach churned, you felt bile rise up your throat, your legs wobbled as you backed away from the curtain, stumbling away, right into Silas’s arms.

“Silas- Silas, I cant do this! I can’t! I can’t!” You cried out and Silas tightened his grip on your arms.

“Okay.”

Okay?

“What?”

“Okay. You cant do it.” He squeezes your shoulders. “I guess I’ll just tell everyone to go home. I’ll apologise to the queen and make up an excuse as to why she wont be seeing a performance by my wife tonight. But hey, she’s family. She’ll understand, right?”

You stared at him in confusion. Silas ran a hand through his fingers. “As for all the journalist who came here to write about you, and all the influential people I’ve invited over because this was your formal introduction into high society, I guess I’ll just have to make something up. But you-“ he gave you a warm smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “-you don’t worry your pretty little head over this. Its okay, I… well, if I’m being honest, I never really expected you to perform.”

“What?”

He shrugged. “I knew you’d back out at the last second. Oh well, what can we do. Now-” he rubbed his chin in thought. “Should I tell the guests that you’ve broken your leg? Or perhaps you cant perform because you’re with child? If we go with the first excuse, people may call you a ditz, maybe unprofessional. And they might come to check on you. But if we go with the second excuse, people will talk about- well, it has been only a month into our marriage-”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Is he… did he set you up?

“You expected me to not perform?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, Y/n. I expected you to fail to deliver what I require of you. I expected you to perform in front of an audience, and that was all I asked. I didn’t ask you to become a prima donna, I just wanted you to be good enough. Which you are in my opinion. But your doubt in yourself right now is only because you clearly haven’t spent enough time practising because you were too busy running around town, going to clubs and asylums and chasing after a murderer when all of your attention should’ve been on becoming a competent wife!” Silas fumed, tightening his grip on your shoulders. “I asked you again and again to focus on the ballet lessons, and you ignored my advice repeatedly and for what? Because you wanted to prove yourself? Because you wanted to play detective and solve murders? When you cant even do a simple job as putting on a show? And I knew- I knew you would abandon me like this, so you know what, Y/n? While I keep my end of the bargain, while I invited Henry tonight to talk him into selling the paper to me, you continue to let me down. So go on stage or don’t, I really don’t give a shit now. I can’t take your word ever again.”

Silas stormed off, leaving you shell shocked backstage. You sat down on the steps, trying to control your breathing. How could he- how can he say all that to you?

Does he not understand the pressure you’re under? Does he not understand how hard all of this is for you?

You really thought that after you told him about Qasim, after he assured he that he would help you out, that he would fix your problems-

I thought he understood. I thought he had my back.

You let out a shaky exhale, rubbing your chest to ease your ache. Why is it so hard to breathe all of a second?

Tonight, you didn’t invite Colin or Benny or any of the boys, and it only hit you now how truly lonely you were. There’s no Colin. No Benny. No friends. No family. No Qasim. No… Silas.

“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you alright?” Cadbury looked alarmed as he spotted you looking shell shocked, struggling to breathe.

“I… I cant-” You couldn’t speak, and the butler quickly took your nervous, trembling form in and sprung into action.

“Here, duchess- ma’am, drink this.” He brought you a cup of tea. “It’ll calm the nerves, ma’am. Drink it.”

You let the bitter, warm liquid slide down your throat without a second thought.

“You’ll be alright now, ma’am. You’ll be all… right.” The butler assured you kindly, helping you stand up. In just a matter of seconds, your anxiety had melted away and was replaced with… unbridled confidence.

“What did I just drink?” The words slipped out as you felt your heart beat faster. Your eyes snapped towards Cadbury. “What did you give me?” The words came out quickly.

“Nothing special. Its just tea to calm you.” He said, ushering you up the steps towards the stage curtains. “Are you ready now, ma’am?”

Your eyes zeroed in on the white particles on his collar. Like powder.

“Is that snow?” If you weren’t so hyper focused on his collar, it would concern you how fast you were talking. “Is it snowing outside already?”

Cadbury looked down on his collar and suppressed a smile. “Yes, duchess. You could say that. Now- please return your attention to your performance. We are all rooting for you.”

“Not Silas.” You snapped again, your eyes looking at the dark curtains as you take your position. “Not that twat.”

Cadbury’s brows shot up in shock. “Ma’am-”

“I’ll show that twat.” And then the curtains opened.

-

Silas sat down in his seat with a satisfied sigh. Everything is going according to plan. You’re nervous and he just chewed you out so the stage will now be empty because you’ve ran off to cry a river, the royal family will once again be embarrassed as they happily welcomed Silas and his Muslim wife into the family (by making them the duke and duchess) and with all the journalists he invited, the news will now spread like wildfire that Silas rejected a princess, Queen Victoria’s daughter to marry an embarrasment.

The princess was one upped by a fool. A commoner. A failed ballerina.

Did Silas feel bad for you? Just a little, because he didnt like the way you looked at him, hoping for support, maybe even motivation, only for him to break your heart. Broken hearts can be mended, but broken reputations? Nope.

Besides, he’s sure that when he buys the company from Henry and give it to you, you’ll forget all about it! Everything will work out just as he’d planned-

What the hell?

The curtain opened and instead of being met with an empty stage like he’d planned, there you stood in your white tutu skirt, face completely devoid of any expression.

What are you doing?

The pianist began playing a tune he didn’t recognise. Sarah did tell him that of the three songs you had chosen, there was one she hadn’t heard ever before. You’d worked with the pianist to get the tune right, and at that time, he was impressed at how much work you were putting into this.

As the music played, you began dancing. From what his grandmother had told him, he was expecting soft, gentle, shy dance.

And yet you were doing anything but that. Your movements were strong, powerful, determined. You were nothing like the woman whose hope he’d crushed just moments ago. You were all alone on that big stage, but you practically leaped from one side of the stage to the other, your legs faster than lightening.

By no means did you look like a mess, or that you didn’t know what your were doing. Your eyes were wide open, as if hyper aware of your surroundings and your audience. From beside him, Silas could hear his grandmother whispering the choreography.

“En pointe. En pointe. En pointe.” You were now dancing on the tip of your toes, and Silas could only imagine how painful, if not destructive this could be to your feet.

“Tendu. Chaine turn. Chaine turn. Pique manege.” Now, you were moving across the stage while making turns.

And finally, the big ending. “Pirouette. Pirouette. Keep spotting, Y/n. Pirouette.” Silas knew about the pirouettes. He watched you spin around your own axis, in a fixed position on a ground, your body moving first, your head later, your eyes focused on a spot in the dark so that you don’t lose your balance. You turned- 1,2,3, he lost count because you were turning too fast.

“34- was that 34 turns, Silas?”

Thirty four? Thirty four pirouettes?!

The performance ended with fouetté turns, which according to Sarah were about 28 and you exited the stage dancing en pointe, on the tip of your toes.

The ballet hall erupted in applause and cheers, and Silas stood up with everyone else to give a standing ovation to a now empty stage.

What the hell just happened?

-

Its hot. Its hot. I’m burning up!

As soon as you were off stage, of which you have no memory of your performance, you almost fell to the ground if it weren’t for strong arms catching you. And the moment your eyes caught sight of the broad shoulders, you instantly pushed yourself away, throwing yourself against the wall to support yourself.

“Careful there, love.” Henry grinned, clapping his hands in mocking manner. “That was quite the performance you gave, kitten. I’m very impressed.”

“What are you doing here?” You spat out, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. He tilted his head, amused at the sight of your flushed cheeks. “Silas invited me. He wanted to discuss business. I wonder if the little kitten went to her owner for help because she couldn’t scratch me with her tiny paws?”

“Owner?” You heaved a shaky breath. His smirk widened. “What else would you name it? He bought you to be his wife, because you know and I know that there isn’t and there never will be love between you two. He’s just using you. So drop the charade and come to me-” Henry caught your wrist before you could slap him, and while he may have stopped your physical assault, he wasn’t able to stop your verbal one.

“What would you know about love? You’re here, pursuing a married woman who has insulted you from the very first moment. Those skanks at your disgusting club have more self esteem than you do right now. You’re fucking pathetic and I’d rather eat a cactus and shit it out before I marry an entitled, emasculated prick like you. Fuck off!” You shoved him away and stormed out of there, unaware of just how much Henry wanted to wring your neck (just for a moment) and how a certain someone had overheard this little spat.

And he smiled proudly.

Good job, Y/n. He thought to himself.

-

“Fuck!” You screamed as you burst through the doors and landed out in the gardens, falling to the snowy ground, letting the ice cool your burning temperature.

How the hell am I burning up when its literally snowing?!

You grabbed a fistful of snow and threw it to your face, trying to cool down your body temperature. When that didnt work, you dove face first into the ground, before flipping on your back, letting the snow engulf your body from all sides. Your ballerina costume was thin and sheer as it could be, finally allowing the cold to creep into your skin and slowly into your bones.

Now that the adrenaline rush and whatever the hell was in that tea wore off, your body immediately went into fatigue and became aware of all the aches in your body, especially the pain in your feet. You tried to move, but your muscles didn’t budge. They were tired out, strained beyond their limits.

The cold suddenly became too unbearable and your teeth rattled. You tried to lift your head, tried to yell for help but it was like your mind had suddenly went autopilot and decided to shut down to let your body recover from its fatigue.

“No…” You whispered, as tears slipped out of your eyes. Everyone was inside, the party was loud, no one would even hear you scream for help even if you tried, no one would come to your aid. The realisation that you would freeze to death had you panicking, but alas, your brain refused to cooperate with you.

You heard the sound of footsteps and a glimmer of hope rose in you. Turning your head to the side took the last bit of energy, and your brain put you out of your misery when you saw the daunting shadowy figure that imprinted itself in your mind from the night of the murder.

The cloak, the top hat, a golden ring on his hand and the shiny glint of the knife.

The Ripper is here.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you blacked out.

So??? Thoughts??? Also nobody @ me for not putting a "keep reading" button because I had to edit 12k words TWICE on mobile, I have pulled an all nighters for yall. I have to go to clinic in loke 2 hours.

Yall better send comment and send ask.

Part 14 is here!

[alikesical]

one-sided academic rival! Dick Grayson × reader

Being in university was hard enough as it is. Now imagine that plus an annoying trust fund baby making it his life's mission to annoy the hell out of you.

trigger warnings: kissing, reader in deep denial, reader gets attacked, dick gets injured

word count: circa 8K

part 1 part 2

Going to university was a privilege you never thought you'd have.

Although now it feels more like a curse.

"What do you want?" you ask the man sitting in front of you, swirling a pen around his fingers without a care in the world. It's not like you had a midterm in a few days.

Only you did, and he was distracting you, "Your attention would suffice for now" he says, honey coating his words.

You exhale as you raise your head, squinting at the bright light behind him, "Can't you see I'm busy?" you ask, rolling your eyes.

But Dick Grayson ignores your blatant annoyance towards him, as he did every other time.

"Oh, come on," he smiles, sitting across from you, "You've been locked in here, for like what, a year?" he exaggerates, leaning towards the table, "You can take a break."

"Breaks are for those who are done studying." That's not true. You know that, he knows that. But he's just here to annoy you, so you don't care what's true or not, if you continue working he'll get bored and leave.

"It's doesn't have to be long, just a minute." he presses, now full-on laying on the table. Has he no shame?

Stupid question. Of course not, people like Dick Grayson don't know how to feel shame. Either because they are perfect at everything, always, or because they are trust fund babies, who never had anyone tell them to stop behaving like children.

"No." you repeat, voice flat.

Dick continues staring at you, a smirk plastered on his face as always. No wasn't gonna cut it. "This actually reminds me of the time, my brother, Jason-"

You exhale loudly as he starts telling you yet another story. After this many interactions with Bruce Wayne's ward, you know he won't stop talking until you give in.

You always considered yourself stubborn, and in all truth, you were. You never backed away until you got what you wanted. That's one of the reasons you are here in the first place.

Unfortunately, you had met you equal in these very halls, and you knew better than to hold your ground on a losing battle.

"Okay, stop. What do you want?" you give in, putting your pen down, turning to look at him, your arms crossed in front of you.

"You."

You're taken back by his words, a slight heat creeping up your neck, "Excuse me?"

Only then does he realise what he said, "Not like that!" Dick waves his hands around, feeling the heat on his cheeks increase tenfold, praying you dont notice how flustered he got, "I wanna be partners for the next assignment." he says, willing himself to calm down, a smile finding its way home on his lips.

"No way." your answer is immediate, and his smile falls in an instant.

"What?"

"Have you hit your head on a pole, Grayson?" you snort, revelling in the fact you had the upper hand even for a while, "I said no."

"But why?"

"Because." I won't be able to live with myself if you actually end up being a good student and not just lucky.

"But it's gonna-"

"No."

"Fine" he says "What about a bet then?"

"A bet?"

"Yeah, if I score higher than you on the next test, you become my partner-"

"No, I know when I'm set up for failure"

"Let me finish," "If you get a higher grade, I won't speak to you ever again."

"...Never again?" you raise an eyebrow, "You're capable of holding your tongue for that long? I'm surprised."

Wrong answer.

"Wanna see the other things my tongue can do?" he says smirking at you, tingling his eyebrows.

The heat that creeps up once again is very distinguishable.

This wasn't an issue of you having a crush - which you were not - but an issue of having eyes.

You'd be a liar to deny that Dick Grayson was a very attractive man.

"Youre disgusting." you shoot, face grimacing, you force your eyes back on your notebook.

You wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin. Not today, not ever.

"I know it keeps me up at night." he leans back, "So what do you say?"

"To you showing me your skills?" you mutter flatly, a small smile still appearing on your lips, missing how this time around, he was the one feeling the familiar heat, "In your dreams, Grayson."

"Then I'll keep dreaming."

You can't believe this. This isn't real. It's not true.

"See, this sweetheart?" Dick shoves the paper in your face, "98%" he grins at your flabbergasted expression, "I win!"

"H-How..." you studied so much for this. How could he beat you yet again. You exhale in defeat.

You have a bet, you'll upkeep it. You're not sore loser.

"Fine." Dick grins, "We can do it over at my place." you offer.

He smiles at you, "Okay, let's go!" he grips the strap of his backpack entusiasticly, making you roll your eyes.

This isn't happening.

A bus ride later, you're back in your house, Dick Grayson in tow.

"Do you want water? Tea?" you ask, hearing him close the door as you head into the kitchen.

"Tea." he says, and you feel him moving around, snooping no doubt.

"Sugar?"

"Don't need any", you hear him say in the distance as you add three teaspoons in your cup -you know its not the healthiest habit but you can't help but indulge in your sweet tooth- "You're sweet enough." you hear him much closer to you this time.

You turn around, wanting to retort to his flirty comment, chastise him about you'd have none of it during the duration of your project. But you're left speechless, gasping lowly at the distance between you two. Dick was standing extremely close to you, to the point you could feel the heat radiating from his body - or maybe it was your own rising up rapidly at the proximity. You look in his eyes, glinting with mischief and something else you couldn't quite place.

"What?" he smirks, trapping you between himself and the counter, "Cat, got your tongue?" he whispers in your ear. You can only gulp at his words, feeling your skin prickle as he moves closer to your neck.

"Oh, shut up." you say and push him away lightly, feeling the difference in temperature immediately. "We have a project to do." you grab one of his arms and try to go to the living room. Away from him, away from whatever he had in mind.

"Not so quickly," he grabs your wrist with a quick motion, pulling you back at him. You feel yourself falling, yelping as you place your free hand on his chest trying to support yourself.

"Dick," you mutter, raising your head to look into his eyes, "Let go." you say, your voice steady, but heart thrumming inside your chest.

"You really want that?" he asks, raising your hand towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist, all the while staring into your eyes. Were they always this blue?

"Your pulse is rising," he presses on your wrist as he lowers your hand, pressing it on his chest, covering it with his own, "Your pupils are blown..." he leans down.

You exhale shakily. You're staring, you know. But how can you not when he looks ethereal under this light. Like a dream come true.

"Stop me." he says, a breath away from you, leaning in slowly, steadily.

You don't make a noise. You don't move a single muscle, afraid to break the moment. You just stare in the sea of his eyes, willingly getting lost in them.

Next thing you know, you feel a pair of lips on yours.

He's kissing you. Dick Grayson is kissing you.

It is soft and tentative, as if he's scared you'll pull away. But you dont, not when it feels this right. This good.

You move against his lips, kissing him back in the same manner, and he immediately brings his free hand to your jaw, the other still holding your hand against his chest, as he leans in, deepening the kiss.

You feel so many things at once, slowly getting overstimulated. From Dicks lips rhythmically moving against your own, to his heart beating widely under your hand.

This feels like heaven. He feels like heaven.

"Dick," you exhale, and he pulls away just enough to let you breathe, forehead resting against your own.

You simply stare at him, before pulling your hands away from him, seeing his smile falter if only for the minute it takes you to throw them around his neck, whispering don't stop as you dive into his lips again, with more fervour than before.

You can feel him smile in the kiss, moving his hands to the small of your back, slowly reaching downwards -

You suddenly shoot up drenched in cold sweat, the room feeling hotter than usual. You're lying in your bed, looking at the ceiling above you, the room filled with the commotion caused by the traffic. You're alone...

"What the fuck."

"Hey!" you see a hand waving in front of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You jump a bit, taken aback, "Rough night?" you look up and see the last person you wished to. The same person you were thinking about, despite your best efforts not to.

You turn red at his words, the dream still fresh in you head "Wh-What? No, no. Why would you say that?" you chuckle nervously, tearing your eyes away from him, "It was a totally normal night and I am fine!"

"Fine people don't get this jumpy when people talk to them." he chuckles lightly.

"Maybe I'm having an allergic reaction to you" you glare at him, trying to get yourself to calm down. "What is it you want anyway?"

"You still haven't given me an answer," he says, and you can see his mouth moving but can't hear a thing.

"You really want that?" he asks, raising your hand towards his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist, all the while staring into your eyes. Were they always this blue?

You shake your head lowering you head. God damnit, why did he have to be here.

"Are you listening to me?"

"H-Huh? What?" why did you stutter? He's gonna realise. He's gonna realise and you'll be fucked.

"The bet," you can feel your cheeks flush at the sound of his voice. What is wrong with you?

"No." you answer quickly, wanting, needing him to go away.

"Why?" he presses.

"Cause I don't feel like it." you reply and get up. If he wasn't going to leave, you would.

But luck wasn't by your side, "Okay, if you don't wanna have a bet, just partner up with me!" he scrambled, following behind you. "I know you wanna do well, and I can help with that!" he exclaims, you shake your head trying to drown out the sound of his voice, "Plus I'm great company! I've been told I'm very charming-" you stop in your tracks and turn around annoyed, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

He wasn't as quick though, and ended up body slamming on you. You yelp as you feel yourself getting off balance, you close your eyes, waiting for the pain to hit any moment now.

But it never came.

Instead you feel a warm hand around your wrist. You open your eyes seeing Dick Grayson looking down at you.

Your breath is caught in your throat, getting dizzy.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and you feel your whole body burning up at the proximity. He's so close, too close.

"Okay, lets have that bet, whatever!" you end up exclaiming, pulling away from him, it was like if you'd stayed in his presence any longer, he would have burned you alive. And with that, you storm away, leaving him behind with a confused smile on his face.

He didn't know what was going on with you, but you agreed.

A win is a win, and he'd take it.

You wanted to say that falling asleep in the library wasn't a common occurrence.

And a few weeks ago you'd say that this is lie and you're not a liar.

But nowadays, lies are all you tell.

So, no falling asleep in the library, drool coating your chin wasn't common.

The same way your dream about Dick Grayson did not make you feel a certain way.

You shake your head as you tighten your coat around you. Gotham winters are brutal. The temperature was below freezing at this point, and the city was one rainstorm away from being coated in white, like a very depressed, very drunk bride to be.

God, you couldn't wait to get out of this hell hole. Go someplace warmer, safer, and welcoming. Metropolis sounds like a good choice. Maybe even leave the country? But then you'd had to learn a whole new language, and at this point, the only thing you can store in your brain is information for next weeks test. Maybe in the summer?

You could learn French, maybe Greek? What if you just went for it and learned Chinese? That could be fun.

You speed up, pulling your head out of your own daydreams, trying to get to the bus stop as quickly as you can.

Living this far away from the city centre is annoying for sure, but apartments aren't cheap anywhere, much less a nice apartment with no holes in the walls and no leaking ceilings, in a good neighborhood, close to the university. But that wasn't your apartment, and that wasn't your neighbourhood. So you speed walk towards the bus hoping the last bus of the day hasn't gone by while you slept.

You check the display on the bus stop. A quarter past one, fifteen minutes till the bus arrived. You exhale in relief at this, you'll be home soon enough, safe under the warm covers of your bed.

You sit on the bench, close your eyes, and let the cold air caress your face. This was a good time to do your mental journaling. This way, you can just head to bed without disrupting your carefully constructed routine.

And this was a good day all in all.

Your coffee was less watered down than usual. You arrived in class just in time. Dick Grayson looking like an angel- No. No Dick Grayson. No dream. That didn't happen.

Okay, let's start from the top. Your coffee was less watered down than usual. You arrived in class just in time. You got your American History test score back, which meant you wouldn't have to pair up with Grayson. They had pasta in the cafeteria. Dick Grayson smiling down at you with his perfect smile, his skin shining -

You open your eyes, exhaling in annoyance. "Jesus Christ..." you matter as you start pacing.

Ten minutes to go.

This didn't make any sense. You don't like the guy, not even as a friend, much less in any romantic or sexual way. All he does is annoy you, pulling your focus away from what is important. So why? Why the hell the only thing you can think of is that stupid dream you had, which by the way was nothing more than your brain using what he said to you, to conjure up these absurd images. If anything, this was his fault. Again.

It wasn't like- you stop at your tracks. There are footsteps closing in.

You turn forward and see a man approaching you. Shit. He was older than you and bigger.

Maybe he's just there for the bus. There's no reason you freak out, you think, but you still hold your bag tighter, just in case you needed to run or hit him or both at the same time.

"How long?" you hear him say, his voice low and gruff, slurring. God, you could smell the alcohol on his breath from here.

"Wh-What?" you stutter turning your head to look at him.

"Can't you hear? How long is the bus?" he yelled pulling his hands out of his pockets.

You felt nauseous in his presence, "O-Oh, it's gonna be here in," you check your phone, "seven minutes." he only grunts in response, you turn forward, hoping he'll stop asking questions.

But in no universe, you'd ever get what you want, "Tis very late for a young thing like you to be out in the cold," you only hum in response, "What are you? 21? 22?" you don't amswer.

He takes a step towards you, you shuffle to the side, "Don't be like that sweetheart-"

"Please stop!" you yell, shoulders jumping up ready for impact.

You feel the man stiffen next to you. And then, he starts laughing, "Oh, come on, I didn't even do anything!" he threw his hands up, the smell of alcohol getting stronger. Beer, you could now tell.

"All you women are like that! You just assume all men are pricks!" you feel his spit landing on your cheek and immediately fight the urge to recoil in disgust.

You slowly raise your trembling hand to wipe your cheek, not daring to look at the man. Too scared to. Of how close he is. Of what he could do to you. Of how even when you screamed for help, no one would come.

What is another is another grave in Gotham, but a number on a very long list.

Your actions seemed to have aggravated the man further as he began to shake in anger, "YOU FUCKING BITCH," you jump at the volume, grip tightening more, "I was," he forcibly lowered his voice, "just being nice to you! But you had to make me-"

"DONT TOUCH ME!" you scream the moment the man grabbed your arm, "LET GO OF ME!" you start pulling your arm to yourself, but his grip only tightens. Tears sting your eyes.

"LISTEN HERE YOU BITCH-" you close your eyes tightly, waiting for his next move.

This is it. This is where you die. Good God, you are going to die without having done anything with your life. You should have taken that gap year. You should have travelled more. Maybe find someone to marry and live a happy quiet life.

But no, now you'll be just a mention on tomorrows news. Maybe someone will shed a tear or two, but that's all. You'll be forgotten the moment the next big crime strikes Gotham, and this son of a bitch is gonna roam fr-

"I thought she asked you to let go?" you hear another voice with no one to belong to. You open your eyes quickly, trying to see who spoke. But no one seemed to be around.

"What?" the man lets go and turns around, slightly stumbling, "Who said that?" he asks, and you see a head appear from above you.

You hand shoots to your heart when you lock eyes with the owner of the voice, as he grins at you, holding a finger to his lips.

"I'm your conscience," he says, disappearing again as the man turns around and you're face to face with him again, "you shouldn't harass women."

"Come out, punk!" the man yells as you take more steps backwards.

"What? Are you too much of a pussy to face me like a man?" you see the mysterious voice drop behind him, getting a closer look only when he stood up straight.

Tight black costume. Blue accents. Domino mask. Nightwing, no doubt.

This was your first time ever to see one of Gotham's vigilantes in the flesh, and to be honest, you were surprised he was real. Practically, you knew he existed, he was all over the news, but it was different seeing him up close. He seemed... familiar? In a way you can't quite place...

"You insult me!" Nightwing joked as he moved behind his back undetected, without any particular difficulty, "I think dick suits me better." he says before smacking the man's neck, knocking him unconscious.

You look at him in awe, mouth hanging, eyes wide as saucers, as he turns to you, a shit eating grin on his face as if he said some great joke.

"Are you alright?" he asks you, his voice stable, although it had another layer to it, well hidden, "Did he hurt you?" he moves closer checking for any superficial injuries.

You stand there, staring at him with a blank expression.

You can still feel the blood rushing through your veins, your heartbeat distinct in your ears.

You're alive. You're still alive.

You can see the vigilante approach you slowly, his hands raised in front of him. He was saying something... What was he saying?

"Hey, it's okay..." Dick slowly approaches you, but you seem to be completely unresponsive. Probably in shock from what happened. "He's gone, you're safe." he says now in front of you.

He can hear the bus approaching, you must have been waiting for it, but you still remain still, even as the bus speeds by you both.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asks.

You hear the bus, you do. You know you should have gotten on it, but your legs are not moving. He's still talking.

You're broken out of your trance by Nightwings hand on your shoulder, you shake a bit at the gesture before you calm yourself.

He's a hero. He wouldn't do anything to you.

"I- I'm sorry, what?" you look at him, staring right in the whites of his domino mask. He looks concerned.

"Do you need a lift home?" he asks, his hand falling back to his side.

He looks at you, too. He notices the crease of your eyebrows, how you bite the inside of your cheek. Your knuckles are white, your eyes darting around checking for danger.

You're nervous, scared. Dick has never seen you like this, and he would never if you had anything to say about it.

You quickly wipe your cheeks, feeling the dry tears, "I would appreciate that, thank you." you say clearing your throat. He just nods, and starts talking to whoever it was on the other side of the intercom.

You close your eyes, sitting back on the bench, letting the cold winter air caress your face.

Today was a bad day.

Your coffee was less watered down than usual. You arrived in class just in time. You got your American History test score back, which meant you wouldn't have to pair up with Grayson. They had pasta in the cafeteria. You fell asleep in the library. You were attacked. And a man in spandex is taking you home.

It was a very shitty day all in all.

Dick was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, an arm behind his head.

He's been there for what, two hours? maybe three, he didn't know anymore, he didn't care to find out.

Last nights patrol has left him in shambles, seeing you like that. Crying. Helpless.

Sure, he had seen people cry before, people who had gone through her same thing as you. People who have gone through less or more.

But you? Crying? He never hoped to see you like that.

You were always so well put together. Confident. Assertive.

He's seen you annoyed, happy, stressed. He's seen you just exist. Although he supposes yesterday you were just existing too, until that asshole decided to assault you.

It felt... sort of intimate, seeing someone so confident, fall apart.

And he hated it.

He has imagined so many things with you in mind -plans he wanted to make true if only you didn't seem to hate the ground he walked on, all the while he worshipped the one you did in secret.

But his daydreams were always happy. First kisses, first dates, and peaceful days. Wedding days and kids running around. You were always smiling in them.

He knows it's strange and probably a bit creepy to think all that when you barely wasted a glance at him. But he had come to terms with it. It wasn't like he was the only one who did it. Or like he stalked you.

Yesterday was an eye-opener. He idealised you, thought you couldn't be anything aside from what he saw, what he thought.

He was wrong.

He felt ashamed to have thought that. Ashamed to have stripped you from the right of being human, just for you to fit his delusions.

Yesterday he saw you, not all of you but more than he had before. And it left him more determined to get to know everything.

First step was to get you to be his partner at the project, and with his score he was pretty sure has got that one in the bag.

Then he'd make you fall for his charms. Also easy.

Then, he'd hope you don't actually hate him too much. That one he didn't know how to make sure of.

He sighed and closed his eyes, his brain immediately conjuring up the image of your face last night. You seemed so out of it, crying, unresponsive. You seemed to have been pulled some place he couldn't understand or reach. There's so much he didn't know.

He wonders if you are doing better tonight, but he can't check on you in any way.

Except he could.

He knew where you lived. He could drop by and check on you.

Actually, Nightwing could. That wouldn't do much to further his plans, but it'd calm the tightness in his chest.

No.

That's too much.

Maybe he should stake out at the bus stop. Or maybe he could be normal for once in his life and leave you alone.

You feel chills walking at the bus station. You know statistically it isn't very likely you'll be attacked again, but still the fear of possibility lingers.

Its much earlier this time around -you made sure to not fall asleep in the library again, and quite frankly you wouldn't do it again.

But the cold and the darkness where the same. As did the fact you the the only person waiting for the bus.

But you had bought a pepper spray, that must account for something, right?

You sit on the bench, same as you did last time, and before you know youre spacing out again. This seemed to be the norm the last few days.

After the dream.

You hate that this is the only thing you can think of, that he seems to consume your every thought, working himself into the corners of your mind.

And he doesn't even know! He's walking around clueless of just how much he has thrown you off of your game.

Maybe he knows. Maybe he went to one of those witches and had the dream incepted in your brain because he wanted to mess with you. That's it.

There's no other explanation on why you'd-

"You'll get attacked again if you keep zoning you like this." a voice breaks you out of your thoughts6 turn your head and see the very same guy that saved you the other night, "Hello." he smiles at you, and you can only think about how he must have practiced for hours in the mirror to get it just right.

"Should I be afraid you're here again?" you ask him, holding the pepper spray tighter. Hero or not, he's a man.

He comes and sits next to you, like he knew you from yesterday, making you scoot a bit to the side, "Afraid I'm stalking you?" he asks, flashing that award winning smile of his again.

"Are you?" you raise an eyebrow, looking into the whites on his mask.

"What if I am?" he shoots back, like second nature. He's so weird.

You roll your eyes at him, "Then youre doing a terrible job at it." he just chuckles, "Why are you even here?" you ask him.

Of course it was possible that it was a coincidence, and that he was patrolling the area- "I wanted to check on you." he interrupts you.

Your eyebrows shoot up in a mix of surprise and confusion, why would he want to do that?

"You seemed very distraught," he continues when you dont answer him, "It seemed like you were traumatised." he says, fighting the urge to fidget.

He couldn't do that, he was Nightwing. What kind of impression would he give if he appeared anything but confident.

But this is you we we're talking about, how can he not be nervous. Especially how its the first time, he seems to having a conversation with you without you trying to get him to leave.

You stay quiet for another moment, "So you are stalking me." he say trying to hide a smile. He's caught off guard at your words. He had never expected that answer.

"You seem much too nonchalant about that." he says smirking, any ounce of anxiety he had leaving his body.

"Why shouldn't I be?" you turn forward, not looking at him, "You seem hardly dangerous," you say, "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Dicks eyes glint at your response, "Crime alley?" he asks, jumping at the chance to learn more about you.

"East End," you muse, and he smiles at you, humming, not saying another word, and you fall into a comfortable silence before he starts talking again, about what, you can't remember.

The only thing you know is that no matter how strange, you feel content with this stranger talking your ear off.

This is the worst moment in your life. Rock bottom.

"See, this sweetheart?" Dick shoves the paper in your face, "98%" he grins at your flabbergasted expression, "I win!"

You're having war flashbacks. How could this have happened.

"Only for a point!" you exclaim annoyed at how smug he looked.

Dick seems to be a silver away from jumping around and dancing, and honestly you'd prefer that, to his smug annoying smirk.

"Deal's a deal honey bunch!" he says stuffing his test back into his bag, "So when do we start?" he asks

What sins had you committed in your past life to deserve this?

Still, you weren't gonna go back on your word, even if you agreed out of desperation to get away from him.

"Fine," you exhale and his smiles widens, "We start tomorrow," you continue opening up your bag, pulling out a pen and your post-its, "Be there at 10," you scribble down your address, Dick stood patiently, his cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling, "And don't be late." you say pointedly as you hand him the paper, which he took with a smile.

"Got it!" he nods, "See you tomorrow!" he walks away.

Was that a skip in his step?

You stare at his form getting smaller and smaller, your face slowly falling.

What have you done?

Never mind that, how would you make sure you would freak out while having him in your house?

After that day, every morning, you'd meet up with Dick to work on your project.

The first few sessions, were hell for you. You were always stepping on glass even in your own home, and he seemed to be oblivious to all of it.

Then, suddenly everything was fine!

Turns out he wasn't as bad as you thought he was - when his stuff wasn't taking over the whole room anyway. Contrary to what you thought of him, he was actually putting in effort in order to achieve the marks he did, and the whole reason he seemed so chill in class, was because he crammed all the material 4 days before the final by pulling all-nighter after all-nighter. You even got to witness that in person, when you both had a test and he decided that having a study buddy was beneficial for you both, and by extension crashed on your couch until the exam was over.

That put you a bit at ease at first, that you were on equal footing. That he wasn't somehow flying through university because of his father.

Then you simply realised, you were being a bitch to him for no reason. No matter how jealous you were, you had no reason to act like you did.

And now? You somehow had become friends.

You dont know when or how it had become a staple for Dick to come over so you could eat lunch together. But you didn't mind it one bit.

As much as you'd never admit it to him -in fear you'd boost his ego even more, God knows he didn't need it - he was great company. He had this talent of never letting the conversation die, which made him very entertaining to be around.

His affinity to talk endlessly, was especially helpful to you the first few times he came over to work for the project.

You were so afraid that your stupid dream wouldn't let you get any work done, especially with him sitting across from you, but as if he knew that you were nervous, he managed to talk the entire time he was there, whether it was about the project or not. And while you found that annoying, it also made you realise that you were fretting over nothing. Because the dream was just that, a dream.

You quickly learned that Dick Grayson was never gonna be as smooth as he was in that dream. At least not the Dick you knew.

The Dick you knew, banged his head on the table when he couldn't figure something out, and he'd show you pictures of his siblings any chance he got, and he would barge into your house and gush about Superman. He would drop by at the weirdest time, just to show you a new game he got, or to tell you about a book his brother recommended.

You're pulled back to reality at the sound of your door opening, Dick appearing in the kitchen soon enough.

"You'll never guess what happened before I got here," he said and you looked at him as he rambled on about how, his little brother, Damian, got a cow as a pet and how the cow somehow ended up in the manor.

You smiled as you hummed every once, acknowledging all that he said, all the while feeling a comfortable warmth spreading through your chest.

You had fallen into a comfortable routine with him, you've gotten so used to his presence, that it seemed wrong to you, how you used to avoid him like the plague.

Then at night, Nightwing would drop by, taking a break from patrol, basically forcing you to stop studying for a while - he said it's because it is mutually beneficial, you said he's full of shit and that he should just admit to missing you, which he didn't deny.

That was another thing you had grown accustomed too.

After the second time you saw him at the bus stop, he kept appearing. "I'd be a terrible stalker if I didn't" he said when you asked him why he' basically dropping you home every chance he gets.

You didn't know how you ended up becoming friends with the vigilante, but you did, and for a guy that wears a skin tight suit and calls himself Nightwing, he was great company. Although his ego was also somewhere amongst the clouds -probably hanging out with Dicks.

You're sitting on the desk in your room, studying, when you feel your skin tingle. Someone was in your room.

You immediately grab the cup you have next to you and throw it at the intruder, only to hear the familiar low chuckle of Nightwing.

"Really sweetheart?" he raising an eyebrow as your shoulders slump in relief, "I thought you'd know better by now." he tilts his head before, moving closer to place the cup back on your desk.

You roll your eyes at him, "You could have knocked idiot." you say as he moves and lays on the floor, relief flowing in his bones. He knows better that to lie on you bed in his 'grim, dirty suit' as you made sure to point out last time he did it.

"Where's the fun in that?" he smirks as you turn around to look at him. Your exhale as you look at him, noticing the small cuts on his cheek, immediately grabbing the small bottle of iodine you stored in your room for that exact reason

"Can't win either way," you mumble as you move next to him, opening up the cap. Nightwing sits up, laying his back on the bed post as you move closer.

You work in silence staring at his face, slowly applying it on his cuts, when you notice three distinct marks on his face shaped like a triangle.

Strange.

"This is funny," you say as you softly apply iodine on the cut at the side of his face

"What is?"

"My friend has the same three moles on his cheek."

Nightwing stills at your words. Do you know? How long have you known? Is this your way of telling him you do? Are you gonna hate him for not telling you?

He's such an idiot. He shouldn't have gotten this close. Now you'll know his identity and be in constant danger.

"A lot of people have moles," he says nonchalantly, muscles tense.

"But in the same pattern?"

"It's more common that you think,"

"I'm sure it is," you mutter, focused on not missing a cut.

You both stay quiet for a while. You seemed to not have made the connection, causing Dick to relax a bit. You didn't know.

You did, however, seem to notice the moles on his face in the time he spent with you as a civilian. You even called him a friend.

He hoped you couldn't feel his pulse rising at the revelation.

"What is your friend like?" he asks before he could stop himself.

"He's nice I suppose"

"You suppose?" he turns to look at you, but you move away, sitting across from him waiting for the medicine to dry.

"He's actually perfect, it's infuriating," you continue leaning back,

"He is very social. Everybody loves him. It's because he's fun to be around. And he's doing great academically too,

"I'm kind of a terrible person to admit this, but I couldn't stand him for the longest time because I was jealous," you chuckle, thinking how stupid that was of you, missing out on Dick Grayson for something as immature as the first spot in the class,

"He seemed to be able to do anything effortlessly when I couldn't. I know now that it was stupid to dislike him for that, but it was eating me away." you stop for a minute, lost in thought.

"It was unfair too, since all he did was be nice to me even when i was acting like a bitch."

It felt strange hearing you talk about him to him, but he couldn't help but pry.

"What made you change your mind?" he asks.

"Do you know how you have this idea of what people are like in your head? And then you find out they're nothing like that?" he knows because he did have one of what you'd be like, before the incident,

"Well, I thought he was a lucky trust fund baby who just messed around in class. But then I had to work with him, and it turns out he's actually very smart. He's also insufferably nice. That part is still annoying." you smile and he felt like his heart would burst

"One time, he went to deal with my neighbour because he kept knocking on my door and then disappearing, " Dick remembers that day, you were both sitting on your couch brainstorming for the project when a knock echoed through your house. He looks at the door, expecting you to go check, but you never did. Turns out one of your neighbours keeps knocking and disappearing. You told him not to worry about it, but he was having none of that and stop by the door for another hour, catching him red-handed the next time he knocked. Safe to say he didn't bother you again.

"He's... special. I'm glad he's in my life..."

Dick hums in understanding as you lean forward again and continue working, your touch hot against his skin.

A win is a win, he thought. You don't hate him anymore, and he'll take what he can get, so he stays silent, feeling you apply ointment on his cuts.

"I actually dreamt of him once..." you say, getting up from the floor to grab the band-aids. Nightwing stills staring intensively at you.

"You did?" he asks carefully. He didn't know this...

You chuckle lightly as you plop next to him again, holding a package of colourful band aids - he thought it was charming that you still used those for kids - "Yeah", you take a pink one out and start to peel it,

"I dreamt of kissing him in the kitchen," now you had him hanging from your lips more than he ever did before, "he had come over for the project, in my dream, in actual life I hadn't even agreed to do it with him," so this was before he saved you.

You chuckle again, pressing tightly the band aid over his cut, "I couldn't function for days, it was all I could think about..." you trail off, opening another band aid. "It's stupid..."

Dick speaks before you can even think of falling deeper into your thoughts, "Doesn't sound stupid to me," he says looking at you, "You seem to be in love with the guy," he self projects as you stare at him annoyed, he loved it when you did that, "Can't blame you since he's oh so charming and smart!" he teased

"Oh, shut up" you roll your eyes, slapping lightly his abdomen, causing him to wince.

"You are so mean," he whines, holding his abdomen in mock pain.

"You love me," you joke, getting up, moving everything back to its place, his eyes following your every move, a lovestruck expression painting his face.

He did.

You don't want to say that you feel disappointed that Nightwing didn't show up tonight. You know he's busy. Plus its not like you're entitled to his time.

He's a hero for Gods shake, he doesn't have time to drop by just because you feel lonely.

You could always call Dick... But it's late and he's probably getting his beaty sleep.

You exhale, as you stand up, stretching as you move the bathroom.

You mechanically grab your toothbrush, applying a generous amount of toothpaste on it. You can hear your mothers voice in your head, telling you not to be wasteful, but your teeth don't feel clean enough, if you don't look like your foaming at the mouth by the end of brushing.

You spit out the foam, "Sorry mom," you say as you rinse the rest out.

You feel like shed be proud to see where you are. Attending university, having friends, having a stable life.

You smile as you back hits your bed, ready to doze off until the morning.

And then you hear it. A knock on the glass of your window.

Your ears immediately perk up at the sound, "Nightwing?" you call out, seeing the familiar black and blue suit, the atmosphere in the room changing.

He knocked... He never knocks...

"Hey sweet cheeks," he says, sending a smile towards your way, voice weaker than you've ever heard before. Something was very wrong...

You scan over him. He's leaning his back against the windowsill, his lips is busted coating his chin with blood. His chest is heaving up and down, like he's having trouble breathing. And his hand is draped over his abdomen, pressing on them.

And then it hits you. The distinct metallic smell of blood.

You feel your stomach turn, staring in his eyes. With a quick move you open the window wider. "Get in and take off your suit." he say as calmly as you can.

But he feels like messing around, "Damn girl, take me out to dinner, at least." he says as he slowly climbs in, immediately sitting down groaning as he did. You were having none of his bullshit today.

"Take it off." you demand again and he slowly peels off the upper part.

Your hands fly to cover your mouth at the large gush on his abdomen. The blood seems to have stopped by the pressure the suit was adding to the skin. But everything around it was covered by a mixture of dried and new blood.

You're gonna throw up.

You stand up quickly, rushing to your bathroom, "What the hell is wrong with you!" you say, grabbing the first aid kit, "Waltzing in here, bleeding out, cracking jokes!" you yell at him as you wet a towel, trying to gather your scattered thoughts.

You need alcohol. And a needle with thread. You frantically move to your kitchen, trying to gather everything before he's gone.

"It's no big deal, just a-"

"Just a scratch?" you cut him off, "Just a scratch!" you storm back into your room, eyes wide, standing over him, "Of course! Just a scratch! A small scratch that extends through your torso!" you yell at him, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"It's okay-" he leans forward.

"Don't tell me it's okay! Not when you're bleeding out on my carpet! Not when you have a large fucking wound that needs stiches!" you sit by him, pushing him against the wall, before dousing the wet towel with alcohol, softly cleaning the wound despite your emotional state.

You stay silent if only for a moment, trying to calm yourself, "Why did you come here?" you ask him, staring into the whites of his domino mask, after he didn't speak.

He takes a second to answer, "I wanted to see you."

You gape at him, "Are you insane?" you exclaim dapping his skin with more pressure, causing him to wince, "You wanted to see me? Tomorrow is a day too, Nightwing! What on earth made you think that it was a good idea to come here in this state?" you throw the towel to the side, grabbing the needle, "What if I didn't know how to stitch you up? What then?" you pass the thread through, dipping the whole thing in alcohol. "What then?"

Dick lowers his eyes to look at you, chuckling lightly, "You're from the East End," he muses, trying to focus his vision on you, "Of course you'd know.."

"That's no reason-"

Nightwing winces as you drench his would with alcohol again, "It's not a big deal-" he begins to say, cutting you off, but you interrupt him.

"Not a big deal?" you say slowly now, a single tear falling from your eye, eyes trembling as you force the needle to pierce through his skin, "You are hurt! What if you bleed out in front of me and I can't help you?" you say, allowing more tears to break free. Dick could feel his heart breaking.

"What if you died?" you said slowly, trying to steady your hand, doing your best to keep that from happening.

"But I'm not-" he goes to lean closer to you again.

"You could!", you push him back, not daring to look up, focusing on your handiwork, tears falling like waterfalls, blurring your vision.

You just need to focus, a couple more to go. Just to keep him alive, until he can call someone to get him to an actual doctor. They dont have to be perfect. They just need to keep him here with you.

He doesn't dare break the silence, letting you do your work, regretting the moment he decided to come here.

He doesn't even know how he did, much less why.

He remembers fighting, and then the pain bleeding throughout his body. Next thing he knew, he was outside your house, holding his abdomen, trying to walk in a straight.

You sit back when youre done, staring at the badly patched up wound, ears ringing.

"I know I can be mean and-" you break the silence, voice low and hoarse, "and that I am a total bitch, and I know i dont say it often, but I care!" you exclaim, "I care so much and I- I don't wanna lose you..." you say softly, "You're my first friend here, and- and-" Dick watches you as sobs wreck your whole body, his hands instinctively move towards you, wanting to provide any semblance of comfort, even when pain radiates at every movement.

"It's okay," he says, pulling you against him despite the pain, "I'm okay, I'm here." he brushes his fingers through your hair, letting you get it all out, "I'm not dying."

"But you could be..." you say, pulling away, looking at him, "If not today, then tomorrow... I can’t do this again! I can’t watch you come in here hurt, pretending it’s all okay. I can’t-" you trail off, turning your gaze away from him.

But he doesn't, he looks at you, as he always did. He doesn't think he was able to see until he met you the first day of university, even if you shoot his suggestion of hanging out down. It was like the world was filled with all kinds of colours he didn't even know existed. He wanted to see more, he wanted to watch you forever.

Even like this, even if you're crying in his arms, even if it is his fault.

You take a deep breath, opening your mouth to speak again, but don't get a chance. His hand flies on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, slotting his lips against yours, before you get the chance to react.

You freeze at this, not leaning in, not backing out. Just sitting there frozen, brain short circuiting.

His kiss is soft. Slow, as if he's scared, you'll run away. But you don't. You lean into it, accepting whatever he was willing to give to you.

His lips are chapped against yours, but you don't mind because that is so entirely him.

You feel the tension in him, the hesitancy, the unspoken emotions swirling between you. His kiss deepens slightly, but it’s still gentle, tender-like he’s testing the waters, unsure if you’ll pull away or welcome him in.

And just like with everything else about him, you welcome this change of pace, wanting nothing more than to feel him close. Alive.

You slowly move your hand to rest over his heart, and he immediately covers it with his own, pressing it firmer on his chest, letting you feel the heartbeat against your skin.

He's here. He's alive.

After a moment, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. You can see the determination on his face.

"I can't promise," he says slowly, afraid he'll scare you away, "I can't promise you that I'll won't get hurt, that I won't be reckless..." you feel your heart tighten at his words, tears welling up again, "But I can promise to always come back..." he stares into your eyes, "You won't lose me."

Sobs break out of you once again as you throw yourself around his shoulders, hugging him tightly, his own arms snaking around your waist.

And you stay there, entangled in one another, even after you stop crying.

He keeps holding you close, afraid you'll disappear if he doesn't. Afraid that this is just a dream, he'll soon wake up from.

He holds you close until he feels your breath lower and your body giving away to exhaustion.

And even then, he doesn't leave. He sits by you for another hour before Bruce calls to check on him.

He knows he has to leave, to get his wound checked out.

But all that seemed insignificant when he held you.

okay! this was supposed to be waaaay longer but tumblr wouldn't let me add more dividers😭😭

I hope you'll enjoy it! :)))

[yourmidnightlover]

the story

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

w/c: 3.5k+

summary: the weeks following bucky ordering that steve be your bodyguard, followed by an insightful night at a gala with your beloved husband.

warnings: mention of the incident with john (groping), slight threats of violence, mention of fear, lip on lip action (the upstairs ones), if i've missed anything please let me know!!

a/n: hiii! the third installment of my forever? series! i didn't even intend for this to be more than one part, but you guys have inspired me to write more for it! my writing schedule is a bit off since i recently started a new job, but i'll try to be a bit consistent with it. i hope you guys enjoy this next part, more to come!

part 2 -> control

the first few weeks with steve as a bodyguard wasn’t too bad. he was actually kinda funny in a grandpa kinda way, and he was an amazing listener. you had bounced a few ideas for your book off of him and he seemed to be very intrigued by some of the plot points you had planned. he even promised to be one of the first customers, right behind bucky (which you may have rolled your eyes at), of course, as long as he was promised a signed copy.

but, at the two month mark you began to miss your independence. of course, the chef bucky had hired was amazing and had years of experience in italian cuisine, but sometimes a girl just wanted some greasy smash burger to chow down on. most nights you ate alone with steve until bucky walked through the front door. 

he always seemed beaten down and tired, as though work was more straining than usual. he would shrug his jacket off, place it on the hook by the door, then his shoes on the rack, and walk upstairs to shower before coming downstairs to eat as you and steve were finishing your plates. you tried your best to start conversation, to be the best company you could but eventually the silence always grew awkward and steve would usher you to go upstairs to your room with a pressed smile. 

after two months of not really needing to show you off i any way, there was an important gala for him to attend. of course, that means that you were to be his beloved arm candy for the night. 

“buck sent me the address for a local boutique that he thinks would be right up your alley,” steve read from his phone as you took a stroll in the garden that was full of beautiful colors. “the appointment is at 3:45, so we have plenty of time to get ready and head there too. oh and he says you should get something in that one shade of green… i’m assuming you know what that is?” his brows raise in confusion, as your mirror his in a stunned expression. 

“surprisingly, i do know what he means for once.” about six weeks before the wedding, you had spent an all nighter with him amidst all of the chaotic planning. 

“accent colors are super important! right now, all we have is an off white color, and while it’s a good color, i don’t want my wedding to wash everyone out that much,” you shoved his side as you sprawled your binders out on the coffee table. 

“i say… green,” he says after pondering for a minute. 

“green… like tree green?” you chuckled at the notion. 

“i mean the green that’s light yet earthy, not too dark but not scream-in-your-face bright. it’s beautiful. plus, i think you’d look stunning in it,” he shrugs casually as if he hadn’t described a mundane color in such an alluring way.

“so a sage green?” 

“maybe more on the jade green side,” he tried to hide a smile as his thumb began to mindly trace nonsense on your thigh. 

there was such elegance in the way he described the simple color, as if saying light green wouldn’t have sufficed. clearly, there was a significance to the mundane shade that he felt the need to recommend it. 

but you knew not to ask anything further to pry, doubting his readiness to comply so easily so early in your relationship. while it was during the happiest days of your relationship, you still knew he held you at arms length. 

at the appointment, you had found several dresses in the perfect color, but only one stood out to you after trying them on. steve was also a good guide in ensuring you were choosing the right one, although you’re sure he would just say every dress looked good regardless. 

growing up, you’d read about a love that was so encapsulating that one would rather face death than be without their lover. you’d yearned for that kind of love. the kind of love that was consuming and irreversible. the kind of love where your partner wouldn’t love you in spite of your flaws, but because of them. 

and now you were married to a man who didn’t seem to feel an ounce of that towards you. sure, the months leading up to your wedding made it seem otherwise. it made you hopeful that he could maybe grow to love you, as you could grow to love him. 

because truthfully, it was hard to see many flaws in the man, other than those that were rumored in the tabloids. you’d read or heard of his anger issues and his lack of patience but abundance of irritability. yet all you’d observed is his laughter, his diligence and compassion. 

it was definitely confusing to want to believe these two contradicting tales of composure, but ultimately seeing is believing. you’d decided to believe whatever he showed you, what was right in front of his face rather than believe whatever was whispered in your ear. besides, if something was worth believing it should be said with their full chest rather than in such a low tone. 

-

“almost ready?” bucky’s low voice rang through the door as you were doing finishing touches on your hair, making sure you looked as presentable as possible. 

“i just have to put the dress on, and i’ll be ready to go!” you replied, unzipping the bag that the dress came in, even though you suggested that doing so was overkill.

“let me know if you need any help.” you heard a thud from the other side that suggested that he was leaning against the door, waiting to hear if you did happen to need any assistance. 

you replied in silence, just stepping into the dress and lifting the straps over your shoulders. it was such a beautifully made gown, truly. it hugged you in the most flattering places, accentuating just the right amount without flaunting too much. the material felt like a warm hug from a lifelong friend, you almost never wanted to take it off. 

the only downside was the damn zipper. it was a bit rough to pull over your hips alone, but once you reached your mid back it seemed to reach a snagging stop. you twisted your arms every way possible, trying to avoid the totally cliche scene of calling him in to zip you up. 

alas, the universe had other plans for you. although, how much could you complain when that would mean his rough, yet gentle hands would be against your skin…

“...bucky?” your voice meekly called out, trying to interrupt your own thoughts from spiralling down the path you wanted them to so bad. 

“yea?” his voice piped up, seeming to jump an octave or two in the process. maybe you jst startled him. 

“could you maybe help me zip this thing up?” you became quiet before the twisting of your doorknob broke the silence. “my arms can’t quite contort the way they need to in order to zip this all the way…” you refused to meet his eyes as he trailed inside the room. 

the first sign of his presence was his hands grasping your shoulders, lightly tracing down your arms. then he leaned down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder, more affectionate than he’d been the entire duration of your marriage without it being prompted. 

“you look beautiful,” he pressed another kiss to your other shoulder before letting his hands fall to a respectable place on your waist, stepping back to seemingly find where the zipper got stuck. “but what’s new, right?”

you chuckled at the compliment. 

“what’ve you been doing recently?” you asked meekly. “i haven’t seen you much at all since steve started his new gig as my babysitter.”

he sighed, stopping his antics to clarify what he felt he needed to. “he’s not a babysitter. he’s my best friend, and the only person i trust to look after the woman that i-the woman that i married, okay?” you felt his deep breathing on your neck before he continued, “i don’t know where john is yet. john is notorious for taking whatever he thinks is his and that night he made it very clear what he believed.” he turned you around to face him, the dress’ zipper be damned. “if anything happens to you… just the thought keeps me up at night. i need you to understand,” his voice was desperate, pleading almost. 

you understood what he was saying. at least, you were pretty sure you did. men in positions of power like bucky typically saw the people around them as pawns. part of you thinks that he’s saying all of this as the controlling, possessive boss man bucky. and that’s the large part of you. but the small part of you, the part of you that still believes in that fairytale love you used to read about, believes that maybe he’s saying all of this because he does feel something for you… something real. 

but that part of you is like… 15 percent. maybe 20…

“i understand,” you nodded, meeting his eyes and seeing desperation, fear. seeing fear radiating from a man that projects a version of himself that’s fearless is a scary thing. 

“good,” he nodded, his eye contact faltering to the dress that clung to your body. “you look indescribable, i’m a lucky man to call you mine.” once again, he grasped your shoulders to turn you around.

this time, he promptly found the zipper, his metal hand tracing nonsensical patterns on your shoulder as he zipped the dress with his flesh one. 

“all done,” he pressed a lingering kiss to your right shoulder. “my beautiful bride.” you wanted to believe him. 

“thank you,” you took a deep breath as you turned to face him. “so, tonight… what should i be expecting?” “well, there are a few people i’ll introduce you to, and a few i have to talk to. but i’ll be with you the whole time,” he pressed his hands into his pockets. “i scheduled a car to take us, and we have about 10 minutes before it should get here.”

“so we’ll be playing the roles of loving wife and doting husband?” you nudged his shoulder before you went to grab your shoes. 

“playing? this is all real, sweetheart,” he took the shoes from your hands, promptly dropping to his knees. 

“what are you-”

“i’m putting your shoes on, my love.” you chuckled before he guided your hand to his shoulder. “gonna want to hold on.” he picked up one of your legs by your calf, grabbing the correct shoe before slowly placing your foot inside and doing the same for your other shoe.

meanwhile, you were stuck staring down at him like a lovesick idiot. this behemoth of a man was beneath you treating you like a princess by putting your heels on for you. what the hell kind of alternate universe have you entered and how can you never leave?

“well, aren’t you a romantic?” you cleared your throat as he remained on his knees, a sight you could get used to. 

“don’t let the news spread around town,” he chuckled as he let your remaining foot hit the ground but not without pressing a kiss to your ankle. “i can’t have others knowing how enamored i am by you, can we?” “enamored?” you chuckled out. “what a word,” you shook your head as you helped him to his feet. 

“the perfect word.” he trailed his hand to a loose strand of hair, twirling it around his flesh fingers before he sighed, “the car should be here soon. we should head downstairs for it.”

it was a 45 minute ride there. you sat in a respectable silence, this time it wasn’t as awkward as it has been in the past. upon arrival, the door was swiftly opened for you, bucky getting out first and then offering his hand to help you step out. the first thirty minutes of the gala went very similarly. he would introduce you to a new face or say ‘hello’ to a familiar one, wrap his arm snugly around your waist before pressing a kiss to your cheek and move on to the next person. 

for a bunch of folks in banking and finance, everything seemed very high stakes. there seemed to be walls up all around you, from each man and woman you said a brief hello to or were meeting for the first time. everyone had decided to adorn a mask for the night, or maybe the mask was a semi-permanent fixture. maybe they’d worn the mask for so long they forgot how to function without one. you hoped you wouldn’t face the same fate.

to be doomed to fake face for so long that you no longer remember what was once real. you wanted something real, even if what you and bucky had was technically fake when you were in public. something about what happened behind closed doors when nobody was around gave you the illusion that part of it was real. 

“have i told you how ravishing you look tonight?” bucky held you close as you swayed to the soft melody. his metal hand was clutching your waist, his flesh hand holding your own.

“i think in different words, yes,” you both began to laugh at his flattery. “you don’t have to keep doing that, y’know? the compliments and everything… i think people get the idea that this is real by now.”

“you don’t get it, do you?” he shook his head before he moved his vibranium hand to your chin, nudging it up for you to meet his eyes. 

“get what?”

“buck,” steve’s voice interrupted your dance, but that didn’t stop bucky from pulling you taut to his side.

steve leaned in to whisper in his ear, but you were able to tell by his stone cold expression that whatever message that was being relayed to him wasn’t as delightful as the desserts from tonight. 

“when?” you barely registered bucky’s low voice over the music. 

steve went back to whispering in his ear and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you wanted to speak up, “what’s going on?”

bucky looked down to you, and when you looked into his eyes, what you saw was very similar to your earlier conversation with him. this time, however, there seemed to be anger buried beneath the stoic traces of fear. that’s when it clicked.

“did they find him?” his jaw clenched and unclenched.

“you told her about-”

“i told her what she deserves to know,” bucky interrupted steve’s accusatory tone. “you don’t get to question me or the decisions i make, especially not when those decisions are in regards to my wife.”

you weren’t sure if bucky was defending you or himself with the way he jumped on steve’s gears. 

“okay, got it,” steve rse his hands in defense before he nodded. 

“what steve was telling me was in regards to him, yes,” bucky clarified. “but it’s nothing important for you to need to know. you don’t have to worry about it, my love,” he let his flesh hand play with that same strand of hair as earlier as he looked down at you like his prized possession. 

oh yea, you almost forgot. that’s what you are to him. his trophy wife, as much as you hate that phrase. 

“when can we go home?” a shiver ran down your spine. what would john even do if he did get his hands on you? was he actually as bad as bucky made him seem, or was he worse? you gripped bucky’s arm tighter as thoughts raced through your brain. 

“hey,” he turned to face you again, his eyes no longer reflecting anger or fear but tenderness. “if you want to leave, we’ll leave. steve can get the car,” he turned briefly to steve who nodded before walking off, “we can talk on the way home. i can tell how many questions are running through that pretty head of yours right now. but i can assure you,” he cupped your face in his hands, and the contrast between the cold metal and the warm flesh was oddly grounding, “as long as your with me, or steve for that matter, you won’t have anything to worry about. i would do anything it takes to keep you safe.”

you nodded, pressing your lips together in a fine line, maybe a bit of doubt running in your head at the lengths he would go to in order to protect you. would he really go to the lengths necessary? would his hand be forced to do that? 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i was scared right now?” you couldn’t meet his eyes as you admitted it. 

“it’s not bad at all. in fact, i understand. i just hope that you know that this is why steve is watching out for you now,” he dropped his hands to your shoulders, down your arms to hold your hands. 

“will you-would you be up for staying with me tonight?” you popped the question, almost scared of his answer. “like… like you did that night? i don’t really want to be alone tonight.”

“you don’t have to explain,” he smiled. “of course i’ll stay with you.”

the ride home was similar to the ride there, but this time with your head rested on his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around you. you’re sure he thought you were asleep when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. it also wasn’t beneath you to say you liked when he did it…

so much so that you apparently did fall sleep. when you woke up, it was wrapped in strong arms. you strained your neck to look at the clock beside your bed, the one that read 2:35 am. turning in bed to look at bucky, you realized you’d never seen him so peaceful. his hair had grown out a bit long, evident by the way it laid across his forehead. 

when you moved the few locks of hair from his forehead, he began to stir awake. 

“shhh,” you hummed softly. “it’s just me. sorry i woke you.”

“don’t be sorry,” his raspy voice was alluring this early in the morning, or was it late? “i don’t think i’ve slept this good since… well, since that night.”

“are you a secret cuddler, mr. barnes?” you smiled as he pulled you in a smidge tighter as he replied. 

“and what if i am?” “there are no complaints coming from me,” he pressed yet another kiss to yourforehead, then your cheek, your other cheek, and then you pulled back to look in his eyes again. 

the only light that was peaking through was from the hallway underneath the door, but that didn’t stop you from being able to see the bright smile decorating his face, a rare sight to see. 

“how bad would it be if i admitted that i really wanted to kiss you right now?” his thumb trailed across your bottom lip, gently pulling it down and watching it bounce back into place.

“it’s not bad at all,” you let your eyes find his lips before looking into his eyes once more. 

he made the first move, taking his flesh hand and cupping your face before he softly met your lips with his. every other kiss you’d had with him had been for show, cameras or people around to witness and aww at the romantic antics of the newlyweds. this one wasn’t for show. this was purely authentic. gentle, soft, delicate. for a man like bucky, you figured he wasn’t like this very often. this was a side of him not many other people got the privilege of witnessing. 

he was precise in his movements, every swipe of his tongue and every placement his hand made was deliberate, yet he was so tender. the soft grasp of your hair, the easy glide of his hand that began to hold your waist. it was all so consuming, in the best way possible. in the way that you wanted to drown in his presence. 

when you sweeped one of your legs over his, now perched on his lap, you felt him smile against your lips. 

“you’re astounding,” he breathed into you. “breathtaking,” he rearranged his hips, accidentally brushing his hardon against your center. “shit.”

“sorry,” you smiled against him as you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. 

“nothin’ to apologize for,” he shook his head with a laugh. “i mean, you are my wife an’ all.”

“i know, but,” taking a deep breath, you tried to figure out how to word what you wanted to say to him. you came up with nothing. “i don’ know. it’s different. we haven’t necessarily been the most affectionate since our wedding.”

“i didn’t think you wanted anything more,” his face shone with disbelief. “i didn’t want you to think you were forced to be ‘affectionate’ with me. you didn’t really want to marry me in the first place. i realize that.”

were you not this puppet in his master show? some play thing for him to own and display whenever he pleased? had every story you’d heard about him been nothing but that… just stories? could this story of you and him have a happy ending?

tags:

@blackbirdwitch22

@onceithough

@learisa

@mrsnikstan

@cjand10

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@armystay89

@adesum

@greatenthusiasttidalwave

@loki-laufeyson68

if you'd like to be added to the tag list, please just leave a comment or message me!

[bonsubear]

Reader loves Invincible but hates Mark┃Mark/Invincible x Fangirl! Reader┃#3

totally hasn't been a month since I updated this series guys... :p

#1, #2, #3, #?

CW: ooc, cringe prob

WC: 3.5k

Mark wasn’t expecting taking pictures to be so… hard? The idea of taking pictures of himself seemed relatively easy but actually putting it in practice was surprisingly hard.

He took punches from his dad during training that hurt like hell, was thrown around like a rag doll and slammed to the ground that left him sore for weeks against everyday villains and been painted black and blue with bruises that stained his body like he was some sort of volunteer for a body painting class.

No matter what was thrown at him, literally or figuratively, he came back standing tall and strong. Yet, Mark was being bested by a phone camera that could not—no matter how many times he embarrassingly posed in the air—take a good picture of him.

To cut himself some slack, it's tricky to try and take shots when flying in the air by yourself while making it seem like someone else took it.

He tried to set down his phone and put it on a three, five, or ten second timer and make it seem like Invincible was taken off guard by a photo around the city—but it was like there was a curse placed upon him that made every single one of them appear blurry, unappealing, and unattractive.

Mark groaned, laying down on top of a random building, his phone beside him. He dug his hands in his hair, pushing his black locks back as he had been out here taking pictures for hours and still didn't have anything presentable for you.

It's been three days since he got your number, and he hasn't been able to start any conversation with you through text. Mark had hoped to start the perfect conversation with Invincible photos, but that plan seemed to be going up in flames with how he had zero presentable pictures.

Tomorrow is a Monday, and he didn't want to see you without having proved he was an Invincible fan to gain some favorability.

He felt really nervous, anxious, and embarrassed. Mark wanted to present to you what he promised with a silver platter, hearing you light up and praise him with blooming happiness.

It felt so stupid, so dumb but—ugh. He wanted to hear you sing praises towards him, just like how you sing praises to his superhero counterpart all the time.

He would never get riled up or upset about the fact that you would constantly insult and verbally abuse his character every chance you got, but for some reason, he easily gets worked up when his mind would track back to your admiration towards Invincible.

He had this jealousy towards Invincible that he had a hard time coming to terms with. For Pete's sake, Mark was Invincible but every time he imagined you practically drooling over his superhero counterpart in spandex, he wanted to beat himself up.

It was ridiculous. Mark knows he's him, but you don't.

Mark wants to hear you say something nice about him. A praise, a compliment—anything that Mark earned fair and square without the mask. Even a simple "hey, good job I guess!" would suffice.

As long as it comes from you, the most beautiful and gorgeous girl he has ever laid eyes on, he'll be set.

.

.

.

... What.

His body tensed as he immediately sat up from the floor, his face burning with a pink flush as he had taken in the thought that crept inside his mind.

Sure, he wasn't going to deny the fact that you were beautiful—you are! You take care of yourself like crazy with the products you buy and use every time he saw you at school so it's perfectly natural to think you're a very pretty individual—well, even without those he knows that you'll still look amazing!

Mark would be crazy to think you’re not! Hell, if you gave him the chance, he'll kiss the ground you walk on just because of how attractive you are to him!

... What.

His cheeks flushed a deeper pink, edging close to red as his hands flung to hold his face. What was that?! Mark internally screamed as steam was practically emitting from his face because of his embarrassing thoughts.

He felt sick, his stomach doing backflips as a sudden whirl of images of you appeared in his head.

Mark stared and observed you long enough that all angles of you were burned into his memory. Those long moments he looked at you during class was now biting him in the ass, leaving him a redden mess as he tried to calm himself.

That—is definitely not a creepy way to think about a potential new friend, right?

It's nothing weird, he thinks—or more so he tries to convince himself.

He's simply stating the obvious to no one but himself! Perfectly normal thing to do! Mark just really wants to be friends with you because you’re awesome, you’re into nerdy stuff like him and you'll make a perfect potential new candidate for friendship!

Perfectly normal to stare at your number and jot down potential first messages in his notes app to find the perfect one to send to you!

Perfectly normal to rehearse how to talk to you in the mirror for the past three days so that you'll start to see him as a cool guy rather than the guy you hate with a burning passion!

Perfectly normal to search up what other stuff he can buy for you and start putting some money on the side reserved just for you if an opportunity like that ever happens again!

Perfectly... normal... yeah. Normal friend stuff.

"So, this is where you ran off to?" A familiar deep voice snapped him out of his thoughts, causing Mark to jolt. Before standing up, he scrambled to get his phone and put it behind him. "Imagine my surprise when your mom woke me up asking where you were."

"D-Dad! Hheeyy." Mark cringed; his cheeks were still dusted a light pink. "What, uh, what are you doing here?" He squeaked out.

"What are you doing here? Your mom's been looking for you." Nolan raised a brow, looking at his son with curiosity. He was wearing his Invincible suit and was obviously hiding something behind his back.

"N-Nothing! Nothing. I just went out flying for a bit, heh." Mark shrugged his shoulders, trying to remain casual to hide the fact that he had been out here taking pictures of himself for you.

How much time had passed that his dad went out looking for him? It's been a couple of hours sure—but not that long, right?

"Uh-huh." Nolan nodded his head slowly, not convinced at all by the reasoning. With Mark's entire arm hidden by his back, it was clear that his son was hiding something. "I take it that whatever is behind your back is a part of," he paused, raising his hands to do air quotations, "flying?"

"Yup! Exactly!" Mark nodded quickly, toeing around his dad while still shielding his phone behind him like it was some sort of ancient relic. It would be embarrassing if his dad found out what he was actually doing—he would never live it down.

"I'm, uh, going to do some more flying! —so just tell mom I'll be back in a jiff!"

"Have fun with your 'flying'—and whatever your hiding behind there." Nolan let out a dry laugh, watching his son's cheeks flush into a deep shade of red as he stuttered out a reply.

"Behind my—whaaat? I don't know what you’re talking about dad," He raised his free hand to do a circle motion to his head, "I think old age is getting to you—uh, anyway, bye! Gotta go take—I mean, fly! See you at home!" Mark yelped, leaping off the building and taking flight.

Nolan watched the blue and yellow silhouette of his son disappear, zooming past a building with so much speed that he had never seen him have before.

He paused before letting out a deep laugh, shaking his head.

Mark sat at the dinner table. He was helping his mom by folding pieces of square paper into origami swans. It was for leaving a nice touch to the houses that his mom was selling—or something like that.

He didn't really know the whole reason why, listening to his mom absentmindedly as he was busy tapping his foot as his hands mindlessly moved on their own, thinking about you and the photos that he took today.

The recent ones he took before coming home were surprisingly better, but not anything crazy good. They looked so immature, like a baby with wobbly hands took them.

"-rk? Mark?" His mom's voice called out to him, and Mark snapped out of his thoughts. He accidentally ripped the paper origami that he was halfway into making, startled at suddenly hearing his mom’s voice.

"Uh, yeah?” He laughed awkwardly as he stared at the blue paper he just ripped, sheepishly pushing it aside. “Whoops.”

"What are you thinking about? I've been calling your name for five minutes," Debbie laughed, shaking her head as she grabbed the swan origamis that Mark had mindlessly folded. "Thinking about something important?”

He shook his head, his leg jumping up and down.

“Okay. How about someone important?—"

"No!" Mark straightened his back at the mention of 'someone,' an image of you flashing in his mind. His anxious leg stopped bouncing, coming to a halt as he blinked at his mom.

Debbie raised a curious brow at his reaction, his reply to what she had innocently asked being a bit too fast.

Her son cleared his throat, trying to act casually and brush off his odd behavior. "Ha, I mean, no. Nothing important, really."

"Hm." Debbie let out an amused hum, wiggling her eyebrows at her son's contorting face. It was funny, but almost sad how clear his emotions were written on his face. Even though a part of her wanted to find out what was going on with him, she sighed as she decided against it. “Whatever you say, Mark.” She chuckled.

A small silence passed between them, before Mark broke it. "You know, actually, mom I do have sort of a question to ask you."

"Yes?"

"Hypothetically," Mark cleared his throat, gesturing with his hands. "would there be a reason why someone would randomly just hate another person?" He shrugged his shoulders, trying to seem disinterested at the possible answer.

"Hate? That's a strong word. Are you sure hate is the right word in this 'hypothetical' question?"

"Yeah! Like, really hate. Hate to the point," Mark didn't notice the small smile that crept on the corner of his lips, but Debbie certainly did, "where she—they insult you every day and call you a creep and stuff."

Debbie was taken aback at this, blinking before responding. It was obvious that this situation was about him and some other person, specifically a girl with how he fumbled on his words. “Can I have more info about this—“

“Hypothetical—“

“—hypothetical situation?”

Mark squinted, blowing raspberries before speaking again. “Like, this girl, just really hates this guy for some reason even though the guy didn’t really do anything. Or at least, not that he remembers.” He sheepishly elaborated, grabbing another square sheet of paper to continue folding.

“Oh, he must’ve done something alright. No one just hates someone for no reason.”

“But he doesn’t remember doing anything bad!”

“It doesn’t have to be something drastic—it can be something so small that really impacted her.” Debbie explained. “We’ve all disliked a person for the pettiest of reasons that doesn’t really make sense. Something that was so unmemorable to you was so memorable to her, it happens.” She shrugged.

“Yeah, okay, but—wait me? This, this isn’t about me, mom.” He caught her words, his cheeks warming. “It’s a hypothetical question for someone I know at school. Not, pfft, not for me.”

“Sure.” Debbie nodded, a sly smile on her lips. “Not for you.”

“Mhm. Anyway, what do you think the guy should do to get the girl to not, y’know, hate him?” He brought a hand to rub the back of his neck, scratching his nape awkwardly as he inquired.

“Spend a lot of time with her. Even if you have to force some situations.”

“Spend... time with her?” Mark deadpanned; the solution she provided sounded too simple to work. 

Debbie nodded, already seeing the gears turning in his head as he ingested her words. “Just find ways to be constantly around her. Show her you aren’t as bad as a guy that she thought you were from whatever mistake you did.”

Mark hesitated for a moment before speaking, thinking long and hard about the simple wisdom his mom had bestowed on him.

Suddenly, he stood up, knocking his chair backwards as he ran over to the staircase. “Thanks mom! That really, really helps actually!” He smiled, stepping on the stairs. He halted, popping his head around the corner. “But again, the hypothetical situation wasn’t for me—it’s for someone I know from school.”

"Sure it is, I'll believe that when pigs fly!" Debbie sang, wiggling her brows at her son that had a deep flush spread through his face.

"Nice talk, mom!" Mark waved a dismissive hand, running up the stairs to his room.

Argh, it isn’t hard! … Just send it… Send it!

Mark internally screamed at himself; his eyes glued on his phone that was laid flat on its back on the comfort of his bed.

He had been going on a cycle of pacing around the room and staring intently at his phone screen trying to convince himself that sending a message to you wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

But honestly—it might. What if you decide to block him because his first message was weird? Sure, he worked hard on it, but he worked hard on a lot of things yet still screwed it up!

He dug his fingers in his scalp, kneeling in front of the open phone screen that had a chatroom open. The profile picture of the letter of your first name was taunting him, Mark imagining it was sticking its tongue out with how stupid he looked for the past forty-five minutes.

The Vasian had already typed out the message he wanted to send, picking the best one from his notes app. Now, if only he had the strength to just—push the send button!

Mark thought to consult William about this, but he would never live it down. His best friend didn’t need a reason to actually believe that he was into “getting off” at mean girls.

Not that he would ever get off to you in a million years! That would be disrespectful—and indecent! You didn’t deserve to be only used as some sort of finishing material!

Mark Grayson groaned, “Aaahh, what am I thinking?!” He jumped on his best, his phone bouncing. His thoughts suddenly shifted to masturbation rather than sending a text message to kick start his plan—those two didn’t correlate at all!

From his mom’s simple words of wisdom, he realized that she was right.

If he were to force you two to hang out with each other so frequently, you would start not hating him because of how you’ll realize he was a perfect friend for you!

You wouldn’t hate him anymore! Whatever he did to make you hate him so much just—poof! Gone!

… But how is he supposed to make that happen when he can’t even pass the first step of his plan?!

Mark bit his lip, staring up at his ceiling as he fished for his phone that he jumped next to. His fingers grazed over the open screen, accidentally hitting some letters on the keyboard as he tried to grasp for his electronic.

Ping!

His heart froze, the familiar sound of a message sending sounding next to him.

He scrambled to sit up, making his neatly folded bed a mess as he accidentally knocked down one of his pillows to the floor.

He shakily brought his phone to his eyesight, trembling as he saw what he had just done.

Mark Grayson Hey👋🏻 It’s Mark Grayson. You gave me your phone number at the mall 3 days ago. I have the photos of Invincible if you want to take a look 😄 I’ve been busy so forgot to show you😅 z zsl ᴰᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ

“Z-Z-S-L?” He read his mistype out loud when his fingers accidentally brushed up against his keyboard. “Who sends Z-Z-S-L?! That wasn’t supposed to be there!” He shouted, embarrassment overriding his entire nervous system.

Should I delete it? No, it’ll only delete on my end—not hers! Fuck, fuck, fuck—

Mark Grayson Hey👋🏻 It’s Mark Grayson. You gave me your phone number at the mall 3 days ago. I have the photos of Invincible if you wanna take a look 😄 I’ve been busy, so forgot to show you😅 z zsl ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) oh

(Y/N) (L/N) thats ok ig

(Y/N) (L/N) lemme see

Mark's phone had immediately buzzed three times in only one second after he sent that message, his eyes in shock that you replied so fast. He had expected to wait for a few hours for hours to receive a response, but that seemed to be not the case.

He swallowed thickly, nervous but happy that he got your attention.

Mark Grayson Okay👍🏻 Sending them now🙃 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

Mark Grayson [5 photo attachments] ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

Mark had only sent you a third of the pictures he had taken today, making sure to choose the best ones.

His back was up against the wall as he had his phone only centimeters away from his face, not blinking so that he would read your reaction the millisecond it seconds.

He subconsciously held his breath, the minutes ticking by so slowly. If he wasn't half viltrumite, he would've probably passed out with how long he was holding his breath for.

(Y/N) (L/N) jsjdjsskk

(Y/N) (L/N) my brain short circuited wtf

(Y/N) (L/N) im legit creaming my pants

(Y/N) (L/N) n u took those ?? thank GOD ur smooth brain didnt mess up those glorious pics

(Y/N) (L/N) hes so fineeeeeeee

Relief crashed over him, his tense muscles relaxing as he let out a giddy laugh. He rolled to his side, his smile reaching his ears as he took a moment to reread your text messages.

Even through text, you were endearing, and it seemed like you were more softer. While you still called him stupid, it was definitely less explosive if you were physically in front of him.

God, he was so happy you liked them.

Mark Grayson Do you believe me that I'm also an Invincible fan now?😁 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) idk wouldnt u like to know weather boy

Mark Grayson ? ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) but actually good job n the pics, theyre so up close n personal

(Y/N) (L/N) thx

Mark let out an unimaginable squeal. It sounded inhuman—had he always been able to make a noise like that!? Was it possible to feel this happy and overjoyed over just a few pixels?

He hurriedly replied with a thank you, trying to come off like your small praise towards him wasn't a big deal to him. Which it totally was, but you didn't need to know that.

Mark Grayson Do you want to hangout after school? 🤔 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N) tf hell no

(Y/N) (L/N) why would i willingly choose to be seen in public with u

(Y/N) (L/N) i already gave to charity n that was 3 days ago

Mark Grayson Not even if I have more Invincible stuff to show you? 😄 ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

(Y/N) (L/N)keys

Mark Grayson raised his brow. "Keys?" He whispered, tilting his head in confusion.

(Y/N) (L/N) fine wtv, but ur getting in my car so i can swerve in a nearby tree if i have to

(Y/N) (L/N) i know u dont get bitches so its a new experience but

(Y/N) (L/N) dont drool in my car ok creep

(Y/N) (L/N) i'll bill u the cleaning fee if u do

Mark Grayson I won't do that I promise ᴿᵉᵃᵈ

Mark Grayson I'll see you at school tomorrow then! 😊 ᴰᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ

Mark Grayson Where do you want to go after school? ᴰᵉˡᶦᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ

The read receipts suddenly turned into delivered, and he pursued his lips in disappointment. Though, his spirits lifted as he reminded himself that he got to successfully get you to hang out with him after school!

While the details of where you guys would be going will be fuzzy since you didn't reply, Mark still took it as a victory!

... Now, he just needs to figure out what Invincible stuff to you show you since he promised it. It couldn't be just more pictures; it had to be something more than that.

Mark sighed—at least he had 24 hours to figure it out.

keys = kill yourself

How I feel updating this fic after a month has passed:

Tag List for All Works: @calicocat-ina-tuxedo

[peachhcs]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 ʷˢ²

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

things become too much for the youngest hughes causing everyone around her to worry for her well-being

wc: 4.1k

some warnings incase: some mental health struggle, burnout, struggling to reach out for help

i've had this one in the drafts for awhile and i finally finished it. wanted to write some more angst of the harder side of samy's collegiate life, but luckily she's got a real good support system by her side! (also trying some new things with my titles) (p.s. heading home again for winter break in 2 days so i’ll get to everyone’s requests then!!)

au masterlist

there was a lot riding on this season now that samy was officially named 1st alternate captain. after lots of success and making it to the ncaa finals last year, the umich coaches decided to name the star freshman their alternate captain going into her sophomore year. she had proved herself with all the goals and strategies from last season and the girls on the team agreed no one else deserved the position more. samy couldn't be more grateful for the honor knowing how much her team was going to look up to her in the coming season to pull off the same thing and hopefully win the championships this year. 

being alternate captain meant that the youngest hughes was pulled up incase any of the captains now couldn't fulfill their role, so she had to be in attendance to every captain meeting with the coaches and the other girls relied heavily on her since she had the strategy. it was rewarding, but also really draining sometimes. 

on top of this, samy had a full course load to manage while also still finding time to hang out with her friends and keep in touch with everyone else. her busy schedule kept her out of the apartment most days and nights, not coming back in until hannah was fast asleep and sometimes samy hardly slept herself. her rushing around allowed little time for her to slow down and be in the present with what was happening. 

she got up early for practice, saying a half-hearted goodbye to her roommate, and then was out the door with the chance of not returning until later that night. whenever there was downtime, samy's attention was stolen away by a girl on the team needing something or calling her parents and boyfriend, so in reality, she had very little time to herself. 

it was starting to take a toll on the brunette. the sleepless nights left dark, heavy bags under her eyes and the caffeine consumption was at an all time high that just left her jittery and shaky the rest of the day. even trying to do homework and study made samy restless because she just couldn't sit still knowing everything else she needed to do. 

however, if there was one thing about the hughes siblings, it was that they never asked for help. growing up in a constantly competitive environment led the four to become extremely independent and asking for help with even the smallest things was out of the question, especially samy who worked her whole life to prove that she could be just like her older brothers. 

so even if she was struggling with balancing everything and taking care of herself, samy would not ask for help. 

will learned this one the hard way growing up with the youngest hughes and now that he was all the way in california, he had no way of knowing if she was taking care of herself. he knew she was named 1st alternate captain and the work that came with it, but the text messages weren't enough to suffice if samy was still making time for herself. will started worrying when the messages from her started becoming vague and a lot less, more so when she kept putting off their nightly facetime calls claiming she was caught up with other stuff. 

he knew she had a game in boston in two days, so will decided to reach out to the boys to make sure they seriously checked in with samy to make sure she was doing okay. 

"i'm just a bit worried about her," will explained to gabe over the phone the night before the game. 

"you know she's really good at hiding that kind of stuff. she's never asked for help when she's struggling," the darker-haired boy said which made the blonde sigh. 

"yeah, i know which is why i want you and the guys to just check-in with her and see if she's okay. i'm worried she isn't properly taking care of herself," will said and gabe nodded even though his friend couldn't see him. 

"yeah, we will, don't worry. leno and i have plans to get lunch with her before the game so we'll see how she is," the boy's words sent some relief to will's chest. 

"okay, thanks. i appreciate it. we'll talk later," the two exchanged goodbyes and will tried not to think too much about it for the rest of the night or else he'd stress himself out. 

he knew samy could take care of herself, but he just worried that with everything she had going on this semester it was becoming too much and she wasn't reaching out for help. 

with the night game, samy had time to catch lunch with ryan and gabe downtown that afternoon. she entered the restaurant they discussed meeting at with a bright smile on her face. it'd been since late july that the three saw one another, so she was excited to have the chance to catch up with them. the boys spotted her at their table near the back, excitedly standing up to greet her in hugs. the girl jumped over to them with her arms already open. 

"hey! it's so good to see you guys again," she cheered, embracing gabe first. the darker-haired boy grinned, wrapping his arms tight around her torso. 

he noticed the change first. 

as he wrapped his arms around her, she felt..different. or at least gabe thought so. he couldn't quite place what was different, but..she felt..smaller? lighter? he didn't know how to explain the change, but he definitely noticed it, especially when the girl pulled back and he saw the very obvious bags under her eyes. 

he didn't say anything though, letting her go so ryan could hug her. when the two pulled away gabe glanced at ryan, speaking with his eyes by asking if ryan noticed anything too. the brunette was too caught up in the menu though that he didn't catch his friend's glance. 

"i already know what i want," ryan hummed. 

"of course you do. i haven't been here in so long," samy giggled, perusing the menu herself while gabe did the same. 

"how've you been though? you're a big soccer captain now," the brunette hockey player roughed up the girl's arm making her flush. 

"not quite captain, but i'm getting there. i've been..good. busy, but good," samy's hesitation made gabe look up at her briefly. he tried reading her expression, but she just looked back down at the menu. 

"that's so awesome you got 1st alternate captain. what a status. you think you'll be real captain next season?" ryan kept talking. 

"i mean i hope so. our head coach really likes me and so do the girls, so it's a possibility." 

"we're excited for the game later. i think almost all the hockey boys are coming to watch you play," gabe finally chipped into the conversation. 

"aww, that's so cute. i'm excited too. it should be a good game," her bright smile made the boys smile and maybe she really was doing okay, she was just super busy. every college student hit a really busy point in the semester that caused bags under their eyes and slight weight loss. 

gabe decided not to pry now because he knew samy just wanted to enjoy lunch, so he eased himself into the conversation and listened to all the things him and ryan have missed since they last saw her. 

if the three could keep talking, they totally would, but after two hours, they had to cut it short because samy needed to be back for enough time to get ready and get to the field for warmups. ryan and gabe graciously paid (even after samy told them they didn't have to pay for her) and walked back out onto the busy boston sidewalk. they exchanged a few last hugs for now. 

"see you at the game! look for us, we'll have big signs," ryan chuckled as he embraced the brunette again. she smiled. 

"i can't wait to see them." 

gabe hugged her last, still not shaking how there was something different about the youngest hughes, he just couldn't put his finger on it. "good to see you, hughesy. we'll see you soon." 

"see you super soon. thanks again for lunch," she patted gabe's cheek making him flush. 

"of course. you're doing okay, right?" he stopped beating around the bush and lowered his voice a little. 

samy gave him a quizzical look, a flush coating her own cheeks at his somewhat personal question like he just saw right through her or something, but she quickly played it off. 

"yeah, i'm good. why?" 

"no reason, just wondering. being nosy. being protective," gabe shook his head. 

"i'm good, i promise. i'll see you guys later," samy finally said her last goodbye and they walked in separate directions. 

gabe chose to believe her because if samy said she was fine, she was fine. she did know herself better than anyone else and who was gabe to say that she didn't look good? so he let it go and would tell will samy seemed fine, just tired. 

later, at the game, gabe realized he should've poked more about his friend's well-being. 

the lady wolverines had a big lead on the eagles. they were up a whopping 5-2 in the second half with no chance the lady eagles could catch up to them. at this point, the michigan girls were just playing to see how many goals they could rack up in one night. 

the hockey boys definitely got a lot of strange looks when they took turns holding up various signs they made for samy and screamed her name as she ran up the field with the ball in boston's student section. 

"hughesy, hughesy, hughesy," ryan got a chant going to which the boys and the small michigan student section joined in on. 

"stop fucking cheering for the other team!" someone yelled in the middle of the chant, obviously annoyed that people from boston were cheering for michigan. 

"shut up! she's our friend!" aram yelled back at the stranger who just rolled his eyes. 

"they're gonna kill our girls," drew chuckled when samy's team scored yet another goal bringing it up to 6-2. 

"honestly, i saw it coming. our soccer team is kind of shit compared to michigan, no offense," fowler shrugged a bit and the other guys snickered because they knew he was right. boston's soccer program wasn't the best even though they had gotten a bit better since last year. they just needed a star player to come in and change it around like samy had done for michigan. 

the wolverines earned themselves a corner kick when the eagles rolled the ball out of line. samy hurried over to take the kick, but as she began slowing down to get into position, she felt a bit light-headed. her team worked to get into position for her kick, but the more the youngest hughes finally slowed herself down, the worse she felt. she stood in front of the ball trying to ground herself and get her bearings back, but instead, the whole field spun in her vision. 

"is she okay?" teddy wondered from behind the sophomores as they waited for samy to make the kick. 

gabe watched her from the stands and the way she swayed on her heels like she may pass out. his heart dropped and he cursed to himself. he knew there was something wrong. 

despite samy's vision spinning, she attempted to make the kick knowing the team and refs were waiting. however, as soon as she moved she went down, landing face first in the turf. 

the ref blew his whistle. people in the stands gasped and gabe was on his feet not even thinking twice as he ran down the bleachers and ignored the calls of the others. "shit," ryan muttered and ran after him. 

the two boys were down on the field a second later, not caring that they weren't supposed to be down there. the refs who didn't quite know what to do let the boys in as they kneeled down to samy's side. 

"samy? hey, samy?" gabe tried shaking the girl awake. her coach was across the field a second later while the others tried keeping everyone else away. 

"what happened? is she hurt?" coach klein asked in concern. 

"i think she passed out," gabe informed, gently tapping samy's cheeks to wake her back up. 

a full minute passed before the girl's eyes fluttered back open and a wave of relief washed over everyone hovering over her. she saw gabe first and the concern written all over his features and she knew something bad happened. 

"thank god. are you okay?" the darker-haired boy wondered. 

"w-what happened?" the brunette rasped out. 

"you passed out, hughes," coach klein informed before the boys could. 

samy's face paled even further because she knew the exact reason why and that she definitely lied to gabe earlier when he asked if she was doing okay. 

"oh," was all the girl managed. 

"let's get you up. you probably need water and some food," gabe said gently as him and ryan helped her to her feet. 

"you guys got her then?" coach asked and the boys nodded. 

they supported samy's weight as the crowd in the stands clapped that she was up and the refs restarted the game with someone else taking the corner kick. ryan and gabe led the girl into the sports facility, finding the nearest bench to sit her down on for the moment. 

"go find her some water and get her food from one of the vending machines," gabe instructed and ryan did as told. 

samy's head hung low as she avoided gabe's lingering gaze knowing what he was about to say to her. she felt him sit down beside her, "i thought you promised me you were fine?" 

his tone wasn't angry or anything, but she could hear the disappointment in it and that seemed to hurt worse. 

"i don't really know what happened," samy frowned still not meeting the hockey player's eyes. 

"samantha, come on. tell me what's going on," gabe using her full name meant he was being really serious and she grimaced at the use of it. 

"i guess..i just haven't had a lot of time to slow down and it's finally catching up with me," she finaly admitted to which the boy sighed. 

"have you been taking care of yourself?" he wondered. 

"i..i guess not really. i haven't really been eating or sleeping properly. i've been caught up in a lot." 

"you know that's not an excuse to not be nourishing yourself and sleeping right," the boy pointed out softly, not wanting to anger her. 

"i know," samy kept admitting her defeat. 

ryan came back down the hallway with a large gatorade and about five different snacks in his arms. he set it all down on the bench beside the girl and then exchanged a glance with gabe. 

"will just called me asking about what happened. i told him you passed out. he wants you to call him," the taller brunette explained. 

"i'm sure i have to call a lot of people. my parents are probably blowing up my phone right now," samy sighed, her head falling into her hands. 

the two boys exchanged another glance where they spoke with just looks, "you know we're always here for you if you need to talk or need anything, right? just because we're in different states doesn't mean we don't wanna be there for you and help carry some of the weight on your shoulders. the same goes for will," gabe said gently as he rubbed his hand across her back in soothing circles. 

"i know, i know. i just thought i'd be able to handle it and it'd become easier, but i guess it just kept piling up," the girl frowned again. 

"is it something about the alternate captain position? has that been too much?" ryan wondered. 

"it's definitely a lot and maybe i just didn't expect for it to be as much as it is. i've been kind of falling behind in work too," her words made the boys frown. 

"do you think there's someone you can talk to about this to help you manage a little better? like your coach? or one of the other captains on the team to see how they manage it all? it might be helpful especially since you might be an actual captain next year," gabe offered because him and ryan knew eamon powell had a lot to balance being captain as well, but he also wasn't afraid to ask for help when he needed it. he actually relied a lot on the team when he was looking for new suggestions. 

"yeah, yeah. i can talk to them," samy nodded. 

"we're just worried about you, hughesy. we know you don't really like asking for help, but it's not a bad thing. it doesn't mean your weak or anything or any less. a lot of people ask for help. i'm sure your brothers do too," ryan tried his best to comfort the girl as he also joined in with rubbing her back. 

"it's just so hard when i grew up thinking asking for help is a sign of weakness and i wasn't capable. like i know i can ask, but something in my brain is stopping me and i just can't do it," she leaned back against the wall, defeat clear in her system. 

"well, maybe that's what you can talk about with your coach and she can refer you to a sports psychologist or someone who can help you work through these things. i'm sure your team and coach wants you to be at your best, but they can't help if you don't reach out," gabe hummed. 

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys the truth at lunch today. i should've. i don't know why i didn't," samy shook her head and finally took a few sips of the gatorade. 

"don't apologize, it's okay. we just hope you'll reach out to any of us when you do need help again. we were just freaked out when you passed out like that," the darker-haired hockey player said. 

"a mix of not enough sleep or enough food knocked me off my game i guess."

"well, we're glad you're okay. try eating some more and then we'll walk back out to the field with you," ryan smiled softly which samy appreciated their soft tones. she probably could not handle them being angry with her and lecturing. 

coach kept samy out of the rest of the game just so she wouldn't overwork herself again. once the game finished, the youngest hughes called her parents to update them and tell them she was okay and then her brothers who also blew up her phone because they were watching the stream and saw her pass out. 

"yeah, i passed out, but i'm fine," she told them. 

"shit, samy. you freaked us out when you just fell like that," jack huffed. 

"i'm sorry. i guess it's just been a long few weeks and i haven't really been taking care of myself," samy explained with a frown. 

"oh shit, sorry. are you okay?" luke asked. 

"i will be. i just gotta figure out how to balance it all. probably talk to my coach and reach out to one of the sports psychologists," the girl informed the three older boys. 

quinn, who hadn't said much since calling, was the most observant sibling out of the four and he also started realizing how neither of them reached out for help when they needed it most. "hey squirt, i know we raised you thinking getting help showed you were weak, but you know that's not true right? that was never our intention. getting help when things are hard is really beneficial," the oldest hughes commented. 

"yeah, i know," samy said. 

"yeah, i mean it's been a learning curve for all of us, but we always reach out when things get to be too much. we're always here to help too. plus, mom and dad are always good shoulders to lean on if you need to rant," luke chirped up and samy smiled at their words. 

"yeah, thanks guys. i promise i'm gonna reach out to balance it all better," she nodded even though they couldn't see her. 

"good. we want you taking care of yourself, seriously," quinn said. 

"i will, i promise this time. i'll talk to you guys later, yeah?" the four exchanged heartfelt goodbyes and samy had one more call to make which was the one she was the most scared to make. 

will knew her all too well and he already knew how hard it was for samy to reach out for help until it got way too overwhelming, so she worried he would be mad at her for not reaching out sooner. 

"hi baby," will answered immediately. 

"hi will," samy leaned against the hallway. 

"are you okay? ryan said you passed out," the blonde wondered and the girl grimaced. 

"yeah, i'm okay now."

"what's been going on? has everything been okay?" his soft tone took samy by surprise and for some reason, it just made her break down. 

she sunk herself to the ground and basically started sobbing through the phone. will's heart broke hearing her cry and he couldn't do anything about it besides stay on the phone with her. he hated being so far away in moments like these that he couldn't physically be there for her. 

"baby, talk to me. you're okay. i'm right here," he tried. 

"i'm sorry will. i'm sorry. i'm just so tired and exhausted. i haven't had like any time to myself at all and i haven't been doing any studying and i already feel so burnt out from everything," it all poured out from the girl as she told her boyfriend everything that was going on. the blonde's heart tightened and twisted into a knot hearing his girlfriend sound so defeated and he was on the opposite end of the country. 

"samy, don't apologize. there's noting to apologize for. i'm so sorry you've been feeling this way. i wish there was something i could do," will sympathized with her. 

"i'm sorry i haven't been calling you either. i was scared to admit to you that i haven't been doing well and i didn't wanna burden you—"

"samy, nothing you do or say could ever burden me. you know that. i wanna talk to you. i wanna hear your problems. i wanna try and help you, i promise, but i can't do that if you don't talk to me," will cut her off. 

"i know, i know. i guess i've just never felt this overwhelmed before, but i'm gonna reach out more, i promise. i'm gonna talk to my coaches and explain how i've been feeling," the brunette wiped her eyes from her tears. 

"it's okay to feel overwhelmed, baby. no one is gonna be mad at you for setting boundaries and taking time for yourself, okay? we're all here for you," the blonde made sure he was firm so she knew. 

"yeah, thank you. gabe and ryan took care of me and made sure i ate and drank some stuff," that made the hockey player smile a bit knowing his friends were always looking out for her even when he wasn't there. 

"i'm glad they did. i wish i was there to take away your hurt and pain," the boy frowned. 

"i wish you were here too. i miss you like crazy." 

"i miss you a lot too, but i'll see you real soon, okay? hang in there for me, yeah?" 

"yeah, i will. i promise," samy managed a smile. 

"good. i'm always here for you. i love you," she heard will kiss the phone bringing a laugh from her lips. 

"i love you too. i'll call you later," samy knew she needed to get herself together to get back on the bus in a few hours. the couple hung up and the girl stood up to wipe the rest of her tears and compose herself. 

once her backpack of things was back together, she went to go find the boys who promised they'd wait up for her to continue catching up before she left. for once since the semester started, samy was gonna be in the present with them and choose not to think about anything else. 

gabe saw her first, opening his arm up to bring her into the circle. the others excitedly said hi to her and then her and gabe exchanged a knowing glance. she nodded to say she was doing a lot better now and she felt him squeeze her arm as they continued talking with everyone else. 

[alicia-18]

Arrogant Bastard Part Two — CM Punk x Reader Smut

Notes: Wow guys. I didn’t expect the level of love I received on the first part at all. I’ve never felt confident writing smut, despite reading copious amounts and not exactly being a virgin irl 😅 but I agree, part one needed a second part. I hope this suffices. It also needs to be edited, sorry gang.

Warnings; MDNI, 18+, Oral sex (male receiving), Rough Sex (straight P in V action), Punk thinks he’s god, Breeding kink if you squint, Choking kink if you squint, provably very poorly written smut.

If you didn't hate CM Punk before, you sure as hell hated him now. Not only was he self obsessed, difficult to work with and combative, he had ruined your sex life completely. The calm he brought from that earth shattering orgasm lasted for about 4 days. Everyone around the workplace noticed, of course, that you were gliding around rather than stomping. Michelle even had to work extra hard to get a rise out of you, and couldn't until day 3. But then day 5 came and your body was itching for another release. A release you provided but felt more than underwhelming. You tried this for a week, sometimes a couple times a day, but each time left you feeling more and more frustrated. The orgasms you brought yourself just weren't cutting it.

And Punk could see your tension building again, everyone could. You went from being all smiles and fluid movements to tensed muscles and a short temper. He would always be present for your little outbursts, standing to the side and smirking like he could just tell the route of your issues. He was driving you insane, to a point you wanted to maim him. You needed a solution before you were charged with assault.

That solution came when Jeff Hardy's attention seemed to be lingering on you one evening. You and Jeff had always been somewhat friendly, exchanging pleasantries whenever in close vicinity of the other. But that's all it ever got to. Until you both attended an impromptu party various other wrestlers attended, and alcohol seemed to give each of you a confidence boost. It wasn't as if you both fancied each other, or were even looking for something past one night. But you could both appreciate the attractive qualities of the other and went back to his hotel room.

It could have been your shared intoxication, or perhaps the fact your brain — who was slowly but surely becoming your worst enemy — compared every single one of his touches to someone else's. But it just didn't hit the spot you needed. He was great, and it definitely was better than when you got yourself off. But it lacked intensity. He was very giving, unselfish like a lot of partners you have had, but not him. You left his room feeling even more frustrated than when you went in, just because your mind wouldn't get him out of it.

You tried sleeping with Jeff sober a week later, hoping the lack of alcohol in your system would allow your brain to focus on the man currently with you and all the things he was doing right. But it couldn't. It didn't matter if you were sober or not, the fact was Jeff just wasn't Punk. Your body wasn't craving an orgasm, your body was craving the release he gave you. It didn't care that you despised him, or that every word he spoke left a sour taste in your mouth. No. Your body only cared about how addictive his touch on it was. How good he had made you felt when it was begging for it. And forced you to imagine just how good sex with him would be if oral was that good. CM Punk had ruined your entire sex life, and 2 months after the fact, you were so frustrated that you were ready to scream at him.

You had stomped past him after Raw, where you and Michelle had just had a brawl that ended better for her than you. He gave you his classic lopsided smirk, and stared down at you with glittering eyes. "You seem tense." He teased, crossing his arms across his chest. You hated how your thighs clenched as his muscles became more pronounced.

"Fuck you." You spat, murder in your eyes that only added to his amusement. He tutted, tilting his head.

"Not to be repetitive, but it once again seems like it's you who needed to get fucked." He grinned, proud of himself. His ego was so big, you didn't know how it fit into his pea brain. You wanted to punch him. No, you wanted to fuck him. Maybe a bit of both. He could see the conflict in your eyes as you stared back at him, only further inflating his ego.

His eyes swept over your body, not hiding the fact in the slightest, and smiled evilly as your thighs involuntarily rubbed together when his attention directed to them. "You're like a cat in heat." He joked, but let out a surprised grunt as you latched onto his arm and tugged him into the storage closet behind you both. "What are you doing?" He questioned loudly, to which you shushed him just as loud.

You faced him dead on, barely able to see him in the dark and dusty room, it wasn't very big, but was big enough for a shelving unit, a few boxes and enough floor room for about three people if they were stood dead straight. Not perfect, but you didn't want perfect with him. "You're going to fuck me, and you're gonna do it good enough that I never have to ask you again." You demanded rather than asked, in an aggressive whisper that had him chuckling under his breath.

"So you're using me? Not even gonna take me out for dinner first?" He took a minuscule step closer, resulting in you pressed against the door and him looming over you. Your mind screamed profanities towards him, but your body tingled all over with the possibility of him touching you. The walls of your pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something to be there to constrict. Your body was profoundly desperate for the man in front of you, and you would have done literally anything in that moment for a smidge of relief.

"Yes I'm using you. Now how do you work your weird sex magic best? From behind?" You went to turn around, but he caught your forearm in the motion.

"You're serious about this?" He chuckled darkly, his eyes barely visible in the storage closet but the lust was clearly identifiable. You hated yourself for the impatient whine your throat created, and your cheeks burnt. "See, I was nice last time. Didn't ask for anything in return, made you feel so fucking good. So good that now you've turned from a raging bitch to a dripping whore. Maybe I'm not feeling so nice today." He placed his hand on the door handle, as if he would leave. He had no intention of turning you down, not really. He had been patiently waiting for the day you would ask him to ruin you. But he wanted to see just how badly you wanted him too.

"No!" You put your hand over his on the handle and stared up at him with enough desperation that it made you feel sick. "Please Punk, it'll just be once. I've tried sleeping with other people and my body just doesn't want them like it needs you right now." You admitted with embarrassment, hating how you were fuelling his already too large of an ego.

"I think you're gonna have to show me just how badly you want it." He taunted, placing his large hands of your shoulders and putting enough pressure for you to get the memo. You sank to your knees and stared up at him with nothing but lust in your eyes. He wish he had something on him to photograph you with, because despite the lack of light, he had never seen anything so erotic in his life. Your hands were trailing down his stomach and to his belt buckle, fumbling with it to try and release him quickly. "Look at you, you're desperate for it, aren't you?" He gloated, making you roll your eyes and scoff at his jabbing.

He leant down and grasped your jaw, forcing you to look straight at him. "You're sounding ungrateful. Maybe we shouldn't do this if you're gonna be like that." His empty threat made your body act before logic could catch up.

"I'm sorry, please. I need to get you out my mind." You all but begged, feeling rather pathetic from your place on the floor. But any self deprecating thoughts left your mind as he swiftly pulled himself out of his jeans and presented the most delicious cock you had ever seen. It was annoyingly perfect. The perfect length, perfect girth, perfect amount of hair surrounding it for your particular taste. It was mouthwatering.

"Now be a good girl and show me just how badly you need me." He commanded, and you did as he said without argument for the first time. Your tongue swirled around his engorged tip, and a groan left your throat as you got your first taste of him. You had never loved giving head. You didn’t actually know anyone who did. But a primal part of your brain seemed to click into place as you stared up at him and let his length slide down your throat. You hated him, but you wanted to prove to him you were the ‘best in the world’. You wanted him to not be able to get head ever again without seeing your face. With every flick of your tongue and bob of your head, you were overcome with an overwhelming need to pleasure him even better than he had you. Even in these moments, you were trying to one up him. You wanted him to need you just as badly as you needed him.

Punk hadn’t seen such a beautiful sight in his entire life. Despite the thick drool dripping from your chin and onto your thighs that were rubbing together, or the makeup that had smeared under your eyes and around your lips, you looked divine. His hand twisted in your hair, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. He wanted to commit this moment to memory forever. He could listen to the sound of you choking on his length and slurping up every drop of precum on loop for the rest of his life. He really believed nothing in life would look as magnificent as you worshipping his dick.

Without words, he pulled on your hair and made his cock leave your mouth with a loud *pop*. He needed to be deeper in you than your throat would allow, and he needed it now. You already looked thoroughly fucked, with messy hair, glazed eyes, and tear stained cheeks. You didn’t have the time to feel anxious about your appearance, because as soon as your feet were on the floor, he was hooking his muscular arms under your thighs and roughly slamming you against the wall. The precariously stacked shelves next to you shook with the impact, but the sound was overpowered by your surprised squeal when Punk tore your shorts from your body, ripping them in the process.

“Punk—” You tried berating him, but cut yourself off with a sharp inhale as the head of his cock prodded your entrance. You both watched as he pressed slowly into you, your pussy already ready to go without any foreplay, and simultaneously groaned as he bottomed out. Your nails clawed at the skin of his shoulders and back, wordlessly begging for him to absolutely ruin you. He pulled back, until only an inch was still inside you and slammed back in hard enough to draw a loud moan from you.

“You want me to fuck you so good that you never need to come back?” He breathlessly questioned, but repeated his harsh thrust before you could bring any words out your mouth. He pushed you further into the wall, and allowed his body to hold you up so he could remove one hand from your thigh and shoved two fingers into your mouth. You gagged against the invasion, and choked on every moan he dragged out of you. “I’m gonna fuck you so good that no man will ever compare.” He growled, speeding up his movements but not going any softer. He was well and truly ruining you, and it felt better than anything you had ever experienced. You never wanted this feeling to leave, as nothing could enter your mind except the man inside you and just how good he felt. You believed him, well and truly, that nothing and no one will ever compare to the onslaught he was unleashing on you.

He angled his hips slightly, and immediately began bumping against your g spit with every violent snap of his hips. “Oh god!” You whimpered as his fingers slid from your mouth and rested on your neck. He wasn’t pressing down, but just the action had your nerves on fire. Your release was building quickly, the edge getting within reach before you could process what was happening.

“God? I am the only fucking god here. You want to come? Beg to your god.” He didn’t have to ask twice. You clung onto him like your life depended on it, his hand slipping from your throat and to your clit where his fingers ghosted over it.

“Oh god, please make me come! I’m so close, please Punk, please!” You whined pathetically, meeting his thrusts and attempting to bump his fingers against your swollen clit again. As more ‘please’s’ tumbled from your lips, he took mercy on you and swirled around your bundle of nerves. Your climax hit you like a train, fast and unexpectedly. The noises that echoed around the storage closet were ones that had you had never made before, and they began mingling with Punk’s own grunts as your pussy clenched around his dick like a soft, warm vice.

“Tell me you’re on birth control.” He caught your eyes again, and stared you down with his penetrating gaze. You nodded rapidly, moving your hands to fist his top.

“Ruin me. I want you to come so deep inside me that I can never be rid of you.” You watched him as his thrusts became sloppy, and the noises coming from him came out breathier. Just the idea of you never being able to have sex again without remembering the feeling of his seed filling you to the brim dragged him over the edge and had him cursing as he finished. You could feel his hot come shooting deep inside you, drawing more mewls from your throat as he pounded into you until he was sure every single drop of semen had drained from his body and overfilled yours.

Punks sweaty forehead fell to yours softly as you both panted, coming down together. Both of your heads felt hazy, and you were sure your legs would barely be able to support your weight when he put you down. Luckily, you both remained joined together for another minute whilst your heart rates settled and your mind fog began to clear.

He withdrew from you, his semi-hard cock sliding from you and making you both grunt at the loss of contact. You were shocked he put you down as gently as he did considering the physical aggression he just displayed, but he set you down as if you would break. And perhaps you would, considering your legs felt like your bones hand melted. He pushed his hair out of his face before tucking himself back into his pants and did his zip up. Whilst you collected yourself, tour hands rubbing down your face to remove any sweat and remaining drool, he reached into the box sat in the corner and handed you a pair of woman’s sweatpants. They looked about two sizes too big for you, and bright pink, but considering he quite literally ripped your previous bottoms, you accepted them.

An awkward silence settled over you both as you hoisted the sweatpants over your shaking legs and tied them up so they wouldn’t fall down. Now what? You thought, looking up at him uncharacteristically bashfully. “You should go to the bathroom before seeing anyone else. Your makeup is everywhere.” He suggested as if the thought never crossed your mind. You rolled your eyes, and slipped back into your usual back and forth effortlessly.

“Nah, I was gonna walk around like this for everyone to see.” You sarcastically offered, folding your arms over your chest as you looked up at him. You both stared with your usual disdain, but something new twinkled underneath the surface. As the two of you left the dusty and overly warm storage room, parting ways with a few snarky comments, the pair of you knew that something new had sparked between you both. How would either of you go back to before after that? Neither of you would be able to sleep with someone else without thinking back to the quickie in the storage closet. And everytime you both argued, something new tainted the air. An underlying sexual tension that was begging to be relieved.

[kittys-mirror]

Meet Ozzie Croupier

twisted from Oogie Boogie

Name: Osmond Croupier

Birthday: March 12th

Age: 18

Height: 175 cm (5"9)

Homeland: Port O' Bliss

Occupation: NRC Student, 1st year

Club: Mountain Lovers

Favorite Subject: Conjuration

Least Favorite Subject: Astrology

Favorite Food: Chicken gumbo

Least Favorite Food: Strawberry flavored anything

Hobbies: Bug collecting

Talents: Coercion, Tap Dance

Pet Peeve: Bright light

Background: In his very young childhood, Ozzie's parents were around but they weren't around. If asked about them now, he couldn't tell you a thing. He got enough care to stay alive but that was it. By the age of 5 he was as self sufficent as he could be. He was even toddling his little self out the door to explore the town. Then, after he came back from one of his expeditions, he couldn't get the front door open. It was locked. He knocked and yelled but there was no answer. He hoisted himself up to look in the window. No one.. nothing. He did this on any window he could reach. The house was almost empty. His parents were gone.

From then on, he was on his own. The port streets were his home and he kept to himself. He had already been fending for himself. This was the same thing.. just.. in a different location. He found a routine, he accepted some help, but not much. His trust with anything and anyone was shattered. Then one day, he began to notice three small children following him around like puppies. No amount of telling them to scram worked to shake them off. He found them useful at first. They would get things for him and be cute distractions that allowed him to.. lift things easier. He had to admit they weren't complete nuisances and he liked the company. These three had parents, but much like his own, they weren't the most active. For years like clockwork, the triplets would show up in the late morning, they would spend the day with him before he would walk them home in the evening.

One evening after he had just dropped them off, he felt particularly low. The warmth of their house had hit him particularly hard. Now as he walked down the road, the holes in his shoes felt painfully obvious. He was 15 now. He could start working soon. He couldn't wait. He was pulled from his thoughts by a voice calling out to him. He looked to see a young man leaning against a doorway with a spoon. The man invited him in out of the cold. Normally Ozzie's lack of trust wouldn't let him accept, but something about the warm lighting and the devilishly good smell of whatever he was cooking had Ozzie's steps turning towards the house. Thats when he met Sam. The man that took him in and for once, valued him.

Ozzie adapted to Sam very quickly. The two were kindred spirits. This new life seemed too good to be true to Ozzie. He was waiting for the catch. Then, when Sam had to go back to work at Night Raven, Ozzie thought it had come. He prepared for the inevitable. He packed his meager belongings and waited to be kicked out. Imagine his surprise when Sam said "Oh good! You're already packed. We head out tomorrow." We? We. Sam wasn't abandoning him. Turns out there was a loft space in the Mystery Shop. Sam cracked it open and told the boy it was all his. For 2 school years Ozzie secretly stayed on campus in that loft. Then the jig was finally up when Ozzie opened the loft to come down in the evening and Sam was having a meeting with Crowley. The headmage was surprisingly okay with finding out there had been a freeloader on his campus. All he asked for was a demonstration of magic. Ozzie had always had a knack for illusionary magic but under Sam's tutelage, his skill had only grown. With that display, Crowley announced that the next year Ozzie would be enrolled officially. Oh how gracious he is....

Unique Magic: Many would be surprised to find out that he doesn't actually have one. You would think he does with the way he brags about it. Trust him. It's so cool. It's called Snake Eyes. Oh you want him to explain it? Oh.. uhm.. haha you wouldn't understand it... yeah. He brags about something he doesn't have. It isn't for lack of skill. He excels in illusionary magic, he just hasn't cracked a signature yet.

Fun Facts:

-The word 'croupier' means the person in charge of a gambling table, gathering in and paying out money or tokens

-The colorful patches on his jacket are gifts from the three young children. Everytime they noticed a hole, they were ripping a piece off their clothes before he could stop them

-Sam taught him how to tap dance. When Ozzie balked, Sam would teasingly call it his payment to him for letting him stay under his roof

-Sam put him in the Mountain Lovers club. Boy needed to get out and about. But he and Jade do ended up forming some sort of odd friendship so it all worked out I suppose.

-Ozzie often sets up a 'pop-up' gambling ring on campus. Most of the time it's on a Mostro Lounge table because he knows Azul hates it

-Even though he now has a room in Octavinelle, he'll often stay in the Mystery Shop loft

-Never let Jamil near Ozzie's room. He has many a terrarium for his bug collection.

-His favorite bug is a Click Beetle in it's larval state.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 2)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

The following day, however, brought a gloomy atmosphere into the room as, at around 6 o'clock, there was a knock on your bedroom door, causing you to startle.

Until that night, you had never shared a bed with Tommy , and the thought of being interrupted whilst still lying naked next to him made you shudder.

"Who is it?" Thomas barked, quickly wrapping a white sheet around his waist.

"It's Arthur," came the distorted voice of Tommy's older brother, resulting in Tommy jumping out of the bed, collecting his briefs from the floor and throwing them on. "What is it, Arthur?" Tommy asked as he hurriedly opened the door to reveal Arthur, standing there, waving at you while you simply blushed with embarrassment. 

"Something's happened," Arthur blurted out. "Down at the docks."

Tommy looked at you, hunched up on the bed, clutching a sheet to your bare breasts. "Go put some clothes on, Love. I'll be back soon," he signaled to you, and you nodded in silence.

As soon as Tommy left the room, you crawled off the bed to gather your scattered garments from the floors, wondering what the problem was on site.

Since you moved into Tommy's house, there had been a lot of trouble at the docks and in his factories and when you asked your now husband about it, he would usually brush it off. 

He often put it down to strikes or interruptions due to equipment breakdown and, as his partner in life, of course, you believed him. 

Tommy was a businessman, not a criminal, and whilst you thought that his brother and Gypsie acquaintances were rather rough around the edged, you knew that Tommy was a good man.

He was a man who would do anything for you and you appreciated his kindness and the love he gave you, especially after you had been abandoned by all the other men in your life before him.

Even your older brother left you to your own devices when you were just seventeen, moving away from Birmingham without a word, as a result of which the home your parents had partially owned was being foreclosed on.

You had no choice but to move out and find work to sustain yourself, to be able to maintain a roof over your head and pay for your rent. And even then, it didn’t always suffice.

You were fired from three jobs until you found work at the Garrison and now you knew that you never had to work again.

Tommy took care of you now, treated you well and, even though he was determined to have children with you, he respected your wishes to wait.

He bought you horse, a white stallion and you were assigned not one, but two maids, which was something you always considered to be odd. 

If you wanted to go to town and spend some time shopping, Tommy had a maid and a driver accompany you and today wasn't much different when you decided to head into the city of Birmingham for some groceries. 

"Mrs Shelby, there really is no need. I can send an errand boy to do the shopping," Frances told you as you waved the list of items you wanted to buy in her perfectly manicured face with excitement. 

"But I insist Frances. I want to do the shopping and then, tonight, I will cook a nice meal for my husband," you told her politely, seeing that you had always enjoyed to cook but had not done so ever since you moved to Arrow House. 

"Very well, Mrs Shelby. Whatever you wish," she answered in a silky voice that reeked of credulousness.

"Fabulous. I know a really nice Italian Grocer by the Canal side. Do you think Isiah could drive me there?" you asked, knowing that Tommy was always rather worried about your safety and wouldn't have liked you driving yourself.  Frances hesitated for a moment. "Of course, Mrs. Shelby," she said bluntly, but not without a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I'll call Isiah right away."

You smiled appreciatively at Frances and headed off to the bathroom, quickly freshening up before heading to the car that would take you to the Italian grocer.

The car ride was comfortable and peaceful, and you couldn't help but marvel at how much your life had changed since you first met Thomas Shelby.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to the front of the grocery store.

The sun was shining brightly outside, illuminating the bustling streets of Birmingham and casting a warm glow on the picturesque canal that ran along the side of the store.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted towards you from nearby cafes and pubs, mixing with the distant horns and clatter of the ships moving through the canal locks.

"My mother always took me here when I was little. It's a nice little shop run by a lovely Italian family. My older brother, Alfred, used to bring me here all the time too, just after payday, before-" You paused, your smile faltering slightly. "Before he left to god knows where," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper and Isiah simply nodded with sympathy while you stepped into the shop.

The smell of coffee and bread greeted you as the door jingled shut behind you. Despite the modern facade, the interior remained cozy with a wooden counter in the middle that displayed a variety of pasta and cured meats. On the shelves, colorful tins of tomatoes and olive oil lined the walls.

Remembering the list in your hand, you carefully navigating your way through the narrow aisles and stocked up on your ingredients. 

"I am sorry ma'am, but we don't serve Blinders here," one of the Italians said to you as you roamed through the shop and, since you had no idea what the man was talking about, you just laughed nervously.

"Excuse me?" you queried, confused while Isiah appeared behind you, flashing the gun hidden beneath his jacket, thinking that you wouldn't notice.

"We don't want any trouble miss," the stocky man corrected himself quickly, and you quickly blinked, trying to process what was happening.

"Why would I give you trouble?" you asked innocently, unable to make sense of what exactly was going and Isiah then politely urged you to finish up your shopping. 

Without another word, you filled up your basket, paid for your groceries and left the store, feeling a sudden chill in the air despite the brilliant sunshine.

Isiah escorted you back to the waiting car in silence but you had so many questions that needed answering, but you refrained yourself from asking, believing that your new husband would soon explain everything to you when you returned home.

The short car ride was again filled with a heavy silence and you couldn’t help but feel unsettled. 

As you walked through the front door, Frances took the groceries from your hands and you made your way upstairs to your bedroom to get changed.  After a quick shower, you slipped into a nice but comfortable dress that Thomas had given to you as a gift.

You stared at yourself in the mirror and felt a pang of happiness in your chest. Your life had changed so dramatically since being with him and you couldn’t deny that you were happy.

You then made your way downstairs to unpack the groceries and start cooking. It was still early but you knew that the dish you were making had to sit in the oven for almost eight hours on low heat, so you knew to better get cracking.  You were pleased with the simplicity and warmth of the task at hand, letting your mind relax as you chopped and sautéed the vegetables and meat.

As you worked, you couldn’t help but wonder about the strange encounter you had at the grocer. The man’s peculiar reference to “Blinders” and the sudden appearance of Isiah’s gun were both alarming and confusing. But, you shook the thoughts away, telling yourself that there was likely a simple explanation.

Tommy had an explanation for everything and, just as you were thinking about him, he came walking through the door of the large and rarely used kitchen in wing one of Arrow House, far away from the staff quarters.  He greeted you with a gentle kiss on the cheek before pouring himself a glass of whiskey and looking at you contently.

"How did you go?" you asked your husband , referring to whatever business he had down at the docks.

Thomas took a sip of his whiskey, eyeing you carefully. "Fine," he told you. "There was some stock missing, but we dealt with it," Thomas explained, leaving out the gruesome details of the beating he ordered his men to give out. 

"You know I employed a chef to do the cooking, Love ," Thomas said, changing the subject as he watched you chopping the vegetables.

"I'm aware, but I love to cook for you. I am your wife and this is what wives do, isn't it?" you smirked  at Thomas, challenging him.

Thomas chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his drink. "Yes, of course. I suppose it is," he conceded, a heartfelt smile playing on his lips as he drew closer from behind. 

Thomas encircled your waist with one arm and nuzzled your neck  softly, causing you to giggle and shiver at the same time.

"You look quite sexy in that dress and apron, Love ," Thomas murmured in your ear, giving it a slight nibble that triggered a heated blush infiltrating your cheeks.

You glanced at him with a playful smile before turning around, your hands instinctively moving to rest on his muscular chest, only to feel the outline of his gun sitting firmly in its halter.

"Why would you need to carry a gun?"  you whispered, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze. Thomas' eyes flickered down to the gun before meeting your gaze again.

"Just a precaution, Love. There are some dangerous people in this city," Thomas replied, his voice low and serious.

You nodded, understanding his concerns but still feeling uneasy about the situation. Thomas seemed to sense your disquiet and leaned down to kiss you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, his arms tightening around you briefly before releasing you.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied softly, your hands still resting on his chest.

Your heart softened towards Thomas in that moment, feeling a deep affection for him. You loved him deeply and you trusted him implicitly. Knowing him as well as you did, it was hard to imagine that his business dealings could be anything but legitimate, even as you had heard rumors about his involvement in illegal activities.

Thomas had always dismissed these rumors as mere speculation, nothing more than idle gossip and slander from his rivals. And yet, as you stood there in the warm kitchen, with the smell of dinner filling the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you since your visit to the Italian grocer.

"I should really get back to cooking, Tommy," you said eventually, stepping out of Thomas' embrace and starting to chop the vegetables again, but Tommy simply removed the knife from your hand.

"The cooking can wait," he said huskily. "I've been thinking about you all day. About how beautiful you looked this morning when you were sleeping," he murmured as he nibbled your earlobe. 

"I suppose we could eat a little later than usual,"  you replied, the tension from earlier melting away as Thomas' lips moved to your neck.

The room felt warm and intimate as the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Fuck, I want you," Thomas whispered hoarsely as his hands traveled down your body, cupping your ass roughly.

You let out a soft cry as he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs apart with a confident movement that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Tommy, what if a maid walks in?" you giggled nervously, your voice breathless as Thomas' fingers deftly slipped beneath your dress and apron.

"Then let them watch ," Thomas growled, his voice thick with desire.

He tugged your panties down, exposing your wet and eager pussy to his hungry gaze.

"You are unbelievable, Thomas!" you chuckled softly just before his fingertips traced the delicate folds of your sex, your body trembling beneath his touch.

Thomas wasted no time, plunging two fingers deep into your core.

"Oh god, Tommy," you cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

"God, you're so fucking wet. So ready for me," Tommy groaned as his thumb teased your clit, and you writhed on the counter, grinding against his hand. You felt shameless and exposed, but also incredibly alive.

As Thomas unzipped his trousers, you watched through hooded eyes, your breath hitching as his hard cock sprang free.

He stroked it a couple of times, smearing pre-cum over the tip before using it to coat your slit.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Thomas chuckled for a second. "Eager, aren't we?" he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You bit your lip as you felt him push inside your tight warmth, stretching you mercilessly. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up, the feeling of fullness almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, you're tight, Love," Thomas grunted, his fingers digging into your hips as he pistoned back and forth.

"Tommy, oh god please," you whimpered, unable to form complete sentences as the pleasure built inside of you.

"I love feeling you inside me ," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you added, your voice barely above a whisper and, immediately, Thomas' eyes met yours for a brief moment, his gaze intense as he continued to fuck you.

"Neither have I, Love," Tommy told you and you cried out, biting your lip to try and contain the noise as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, the tension building stronger and stronger until the waves of static pleasure crashed inside of you and, suddenly, you felt yourself falling, falling, falling and, as you kept screaming, the waves of pleasure crashed over and over again, never ending.

"Fuck, yes. That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, holding back his own release until you came down from your high. He then pulled out , springing free, and grabbed his cock, giving it a few quick thrusts as he sprayed hot streams of cum across your naked thighs.

Thomas leaned forward, moving your hair off your sweaty forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there before stepping back, still catching his breath.

Reaching for his handkerchief  , he started to wipe the remnants of their earthly pleasures of desperation and passion from between your thighs and from his limp cock before zipping up his trousers again.

“Are you alright, Love?” he addressed you gentler than ever before and you simply nodded silently, before reaching for a glass of water and taking a deep sip, feeling a little thirsty after your vigorous desperation for passion and how ‘earthshattering’ your release became.

Thomas poured himself another glass of whiskey and watched you closely as you collected yourself.

"Now that was quite unexpected," you admitted, taking a deep breath before pushing yourself off the counter and swinging your legs down to the ground.

"Was it?" he chuckled before lightening himself a cigarette and offering one to you, which you accepted graciously. 

"You know, something really strange happened today when Isiah took me to the Italian Grocer by the Canal on East Street," you started, changing the topic, as you took a deep drag from your cigarette. Thomas arched an eyebrow, encouraging you to go on.

"While I was picking up some fresh produce for dinner, one of the Italians in store told me that they weren't serving 'Blinders' at their shop and, when I queried him about what he meant by that, he told me that he didn't want any trouble. I think he saw Isiah's gun, but I can't be sure. It all was very confusing," you recounted the incident, trying to piece together what happened.

At that moment, Thomas' body language changed entirely. He leaned his head to the side, squinting his left eye and pressing his lips firmly together, as he listening to your confession.

"Did the man say anything else?"  Thomas' voice was low and measured as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"No," you shook your head. "Well, not that I could understand," you told him, causing your husband to clear his throat. 

"And what did the Italian look like?"  Thomas questioned you with a furrowed brow, as he tried to gauge the seriousness of the situation based on the incomplete information you offered.

"Tall, skinny. He was about thirty years old, with dark hair and dark eyes," you said, almost absentmindedly, as you went on to describe more about the Italian's appearance. Then, suddenly, it struck you just how off-putting the interaction had become now, and some anxiety washed over you again. "Why are you asking?"  you questioned Thomas, wondering about the reasoning behind the sudden interest in the man you met earlier today.

Thomas, sensing your apprehension, gave you a reassuring smile as he stubbed out his cigarette, extinguishing the glowing embers.

"No reason. Just mere curiosity, Love," Tommy told you before giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Now, why don't you finish cooking while attend some more business in town, eh?" he told you, his voice gentle and loving, but you noticed a hint of something else in his eyes, something that you couldn't quite identify.

"Alright Tommy," you agreed nonetheless and Thomas kissed you deeply one last time, before grabbing his hat and coat and disappearing off to town.

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[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey sex witch. I live with family and share my room with a much younger sibling so my only opportunity to jack off is when I get a hotel room which is once every few months (usually I travel for work anyway so 2 for 1 special?). Previously I had zero interest in anything pleasure or sex related because my SSRIs just tamped down that stuff but I came off them a little over a year ago and have been ridiculously horny ever since.

I have recently dabbled more with vaginal penetration with vibrators and have found that the day or days afterwards I feel cramping like I would during or just before my period even though it's definitely not time for my period. It tends to last a few days. I get the feeling that it's indicative of a problem with my ovary or endometriosis because I've had this pain in my left side for at least 6 months by now, but I've still not seen the gyno for an in person appt. How would you suggest I go about telling my gyno about this? I'm not sexually active in terms of partnered sex and last time I mentioned a vibrator to a healthcare professional they didn't know what it was (it was an ultrasound tech who didn't do an internal ultrasound on me because she didn't think vibrators "counted" as being sexually active and therefore qualifying for a transvaginal scan - but I legit think she didn't fully know what a vibrator was and I was too mortified having that convo to begin with).

So do you have any advice about how I should go about having that convo with my gyno? Any sentence starters or general advice would be helpful - including if you think this is normal because if it is then I might just be being a hypochondriac?

P.S. love what you do, it's helped me destigmatize a lot of my own perceptions about sex and pleasure!

hi anon,

if you take this ask and shave it down to this part:

I have recently dabbled more with vaginal penetration with vibrators and have found that the day or days afterwards I feel cramping like I would during or just before my period even though it's definitely not time for my period. It tends to last a few days. I get the feeling that it's indicative of a problem with my ovary or endometriosis because I've had this pain in my left side for at least 6 months by now

that should be just dandy; the fact that you can only masturbate in a hotel is not going to be super important to your gyno. no particularly fancy way you need to go about, just a "here's the reason I made this appointment" should suffice. I promise your gynecologist is pretty used to most people opening up conversations with health concerns; it's not rude or unusual in that context.

also hey if the person responsible for your vaginal ultrasounds doesn't know what a vibrator is. get a new person.

[anyknotrants]

Prompt: Phone call

words: 1627

It was one of those nights again. Running across the rooftops of Gotham, Dick was starting to ask himself if it was really worth it. 

Sure, Red Hood was still a Crime Lord, but he mostly avoided them if anything. They stayed out of Crime Alley, he stayed out of the rest of Gotham. Mostly. It was *** work relationship, that didn’t really work, anyway. Hood still antagonized them, Batman still tried to catch him. 

And they still had yet to find out who’s hiding under the hood. They still haven’t figured him out. Which, after almost three yeast since Hood’s appearance, was quite an accomplishment for him. Not that Dick will ever say that out loud. 

What did change things up a bit for this particular chase, is that it was barely 2 pm, not really a time one would move drugs, but then again, that might have been the point. They all had to leave their current responsibilities and suit up specifically for this. Needless to say, Dick was not amused. 

And if that wasn’t enough, even though it was still early, Gotham was getting darker by the minute. Thick, black clouds obscuring the sun. Undoubtedly preparing for a heavy rain. 

“Hood’s in the warehouse, most likely waiting for us.” Came Tim’s voice through the coms, 

“Enter through rooftops, stealth, don’t engage,” barked Batman right back. They all knew stealth was useless. Hood somehow alway knew where to look for them. It was creepy, and not something Dick really wanted to think about right now. 

Still, for once they did as they were told, entering the warehouse through one of the many holes in the roof, hiding in the rafters, in the shadows. 

And there Red Hood was, standing in the middle of the open floor plan, guns in his hands, but still pointed to the floor, his stance might seem casual to any outsiders, but those trained by the Bat could see that he was ready to attack a second notice. 

“Come out, come out, little bats, I don’t have all day.” 

A moment of silence, before Batman jumped down in front of him. It may not be the smartest thing to do with an armed crime lord, but then again, Hood proved himself to be competent and civil enough not to shoot on sight… anymore. 

Dick, not waiting for permission, jumped after him, standing just a bit behind him to his left. Red Robin did the same, just on his left side. 

By the grunt Batam sent their way, he was not pleased, but also aware that he really didn’t have much say on what they did anymore.

“Hood.” Batman growled, yet did not make any move. Not any visible one. 

“Let’s make this quick,” Hood started, cocking his guns and pointing one at Batman and the other at Nightwing. It did sound some alarms in Nightwin head, but not as loud as they might have been three years ago. Hood was still a bit too trigger happy, but he no longer shoots unprovoked. 

“You get out of my territory, no-one gets hurt and I’ll—”

Obnoxiously loud ringtone started blaring  through the warehouse. It originated from Hood’s pocket, yet the crime lord seemed wistfully ignorant of it. His guns still pointed at them, not making a single move. This was a waiting game, at this point. 

Ultimately, the ringing stopped, if only for a second, before starting again.

Something in Hood’s stance changed. Almost as if he just realized something. Something that didn’t make him really happy. 

“...fuck, I actually do have to take this.” he uttered under his breath. Probably. It was hard to tell with the helmet.

“No-one moves.” he warned, pulling back the gun he had pointed at Nightwing, clicking the safety on and holstering it. He reached into one of his pocket, his gaze still *** at them, fishing out a phone and accepting the call.

“Mrs. Whitebone!” Red Hood greeted whoever was on the other side of the phone, giving all the bats a pause. He sounded… normal. All roughness and anger from his voice disappearing, replaced by normal, if a bit chiperly tone. Suffice to say it left them a bit dazed, especially since he was still very obviously pointing his gun at Batman. 

“I’m really sorry I’m kinda in the middle of….. she did what?” And what? Now he sounded almost proud?? Who was he talking to? Who was he talking about??? 

“Damn, did she win?” Dick resigned himself to understanding anything that was happening. 

“I can’t, sadly, but I’m sure I can call my husband to take care of it.” 

And that— what?????

The clicked away on his phone a bit, still keeping half an eye at the bats. Not that any of them would try anything right now. Everyone, even Bruce, was intrigued as to what was actually happening. 

“Hey, love……yeah no, I need you to go pick up Li from school…..well, your daughter got into a fight…. no, I know she’s my daughter as well, but I’m in the middle of something—.... I’ll cook dinner for the rest of the month…. yeah I do that anyway…..thanks…. yeah, yeah, love you too.” With these final words, he ended the call and pocketed his phone, turning to look back at the bats. Not like any of them really were any threat to him right now. Not with the whiplash he just gave them. 

“Now, where were w—” he started, cocking his gun, but was cut off before he could continue his evil monologue. 

“YOU HAVE A HUSBAND???”

“YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER???”

Tim and Dick shouted at the same time, completely ignoring Batman's pointed look and the gun pointed at them. They both stared with their eyes blown wide. To hell with professionalism, this was big. They need details. 

“Yeah? So what?” he growled, making a grab for the gun he holstered when he picked up the phone. 

“Since when?” Dick exclaimed, his voice cracking at the end a bit.

“Not of your fucking bussiness, but if you must know, two years. Now get the fuck out.” 

“Nope, nope, nope, I need details.” Was this stupid? Probably, but if there was one thing Dick was, it was a gossip queen, and he needed the details. 

“Jesus fuck, you’re supposed to be trying to bring me in, not interrogate me about my lovelife, Dichibird.” Hood huffed out, sounding more annoyed than anything. But to the surprise of all, he actually pulled back the guns, and holstered them. Still kept at least one hand on them, but no longer pointing them at him. And Dick wasn’t about to look a gifted horse in the mouth or however that saying went. 

He also had a nickname for him! That was nice—

Wait.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, letting his voice drop a bit. There was only ever one person that called him that, and that person was dead. Sure, it could be a coincidence, but Dick stopped believing in them a long time ago. 

Hood freezed for a moment, like a deer caught in the headlights. Which was actually the first they saw him like that. And a glowing evidence that it was something deeper. 

There was a tense silence

“You know what? Fuck this, I’m not dealing with this family drama right now.” Red Hood decided, taking advantage of their shock, shot grapple to one of the broken windows and got the hell out of there. 

By the time they went to follow, he was already gone. 

Bruce sent Dick home, saying he and Tim will handle the patrol alone. It was clear Nightwing was really not up for it right now. Not that anyone could blame him. Hood just used his dead brother’s nickname. 

And that was a can of worms Dick was not opening tonight. 

Instead he lied in his bed, trying desperately to get his mind off of Jason. Not that he was really successful. 

After a tortuous 30 minutes, he gave up deciding talking to someone might just help. 

Wally was on a mission with Barry, Donna also wasn’t available, but there was one more close friend of Dick that he could call. 

“Hey Dick, what’d ya need?” Answered Rox after the fourth ring. 

“Hey Roy! How’s it going? I’m not interrupting, am I?” Dicks hot right back, already feeling just the tines a bit better hearing his friend’s voice. 

“Not at all! So, is this a social call or do you need something?” 

“Social call actually. I haven’t heard from you in a while, how’s it been? Is Lian doing okay?” The tiny girl was one of the most adorable human beings Dick’s ever met, and it also helped that Lian herself liked him as well. 

“Nah, she’s fine. Got into a school fight today though. She wasn’t the one to start it, but she was the one to finish it.” Roy sounded way too proud of that. Not that Dick could really blame him.

“Oh? Do tell me more.” Dick got more comfortable in his bed, after all, Roy’s stories tended to be long, and a bit dramatic if you ask certain people. It was also just what Dick needed. 

“Okay so–” Roy launched into the story of how one of the kids was being an asshole, and how Lian handled it. Dick listened to the whole thing. But unknown to him, there was also another person listening in. The one that was in the same room as Roy, preparing dinner, and trying very hard not to laugh at his brother. He succeeded…mostly. 

-----------------------

This is kinda shit, I don’t care, I wrote this at like 3 am yesterday, too lazy for to read and redo it, deal with it

[frostyhelltime]

Alastor Realizes He Has Feelings For You Part 2

Alastor x GN!Reader

AN: I'm so happy so many people seem to like this so far! I hope you all enjoy this part 2! Now I'm gonna get back to working on my inbox. I'm loving the requests I'm seeing come in so feel free to keep sending them in! ❤️ And as I said in the preview I tend to write Alastor from more of a demisexual lenses since it's on the ace spectrum and I also largely consider myself demisexual if that helps to know for this.

Link to part 1 is right HERE.

Alastor is a planner. Always has been and likely always will be. He has different plans and scenarios for almost every occasion, and has backup plans for most any issue he could ever encounter. Suffice to say, it made him a terrible person to try and out maneuver. But it was especially difficult when you weren't even aware of the game of chess he was playing.

So he does what he does best, plan. It's easier to focus on the goal of ensnaring you instead of really analyzing his own complicated feelings. He starts small, not wanting to throw you off too harshly. It had to be subtle. He starts doing things that wouldn't…necessarily be odd, considering his personality, but they're still things he hasn't really done before. 

Such as pulling your chair out for you when you go to sit down. It's not too odd. A gentlemanly thing to do. But he can tell from the look on your face that you're struggling to remember if this is a new behavior or if he's always done it and you just never noticed.

He went out of his way to accompany you when possible, more so than usual. Especially if it was into a less desirable part of town. But still, nothing changes. It honestly vexes him because he doesn't even quite know how he fell for you, so he couldn't even attempt to replicate it to make you fall for him in turn. 

Perhaps subtle was the wrong way to go? Perhaps he should be a little more…forward? 

He again starts small, not wanting to startle you, but it seems it does regardless. In hindsight him reaching for you first instead of the other way around was certainly something novel and new, so it made sense it surprised you the first few times he placed his hand on the small of your back as you both walked, a gesture of affection, protection, and possession all at once.

He would almost wonder if he was doing something wrong if he hadn't seen that delightful little dusting of pink across your cheeks each time he does it.

It's then he realizes that due to his….general nature and lack of romantic relationships, that you're likely trying to justify all of his actions as extremely friendly rather than the subtle flirtations he meant them to be.

Which annoyed him until a hint of mischief crossed his face with a realization. If you thought he was just being extraordinarily friendly…he could perhaps be even…more bold without fully showing you his hand yet.

Yes, he could certainly have fun with that.

He's thinking later on that day about how he could torment you with his affections when he passes by the library and sees you struggling, quite poorly, to reach a book. 

His grin grows imperceptibly wider as he silently approaches behind you. He weighs his options on how he should go about it and eventually decides to lean over, until his lips are almost flush to your ear.

“Do you need any help mon cœur?” He almost purrs in your ear and he has to admit there is a certain thrill and exhilaration unlike what he's used to feeling, when you jump from how close his voice is. 

“A-Alastor! I…I didn't realize you were there.” You managed to squeak out as you felt his claws rest on the crook of your waist. The proximity, touch, and whispered voice is clearly a lot for you since he can see your blush has even spread to the tips of your ears. 

How cute. He wonders what other parts of you can so plainly show your feelings because of him? Ah but he's losing focus now.

“Oh, my apologies. How rude of me not to greet you! Hello there.” He hasn't moved his mouth an inch, his voice brushing against you like velvet as he speaks. As soon as he does actually greet you, one of his hands captures yours and brings it to his lips, and he's  able to hear the slight hitch in your breath as he does so. It's certainly a sound he's quickly become a fan of, that he wants to hear over and over again. He once again allows his mind to wander for just a moment on other ways he could have you make that sound for him. But then he's focused once more, his hand dropping yours and snatching the book you appeared to be reaching for with ease before leaning back down to whisper in your ear.

“Is this what you needed mon cœur?” He continues to drawl sweetly in your ear as he repeats the pet name that still manages to make you flush and fidget nervously despite not knowing what the hell he was even saying. He noticed the pet names seemed to make you feel some type of way when they were French, even though he's called you darling and dear and various other things in English more than a few times. But no matter. He doesn't really care about the reasoning behind it, just excited he has another tool in his arsenal to ensure you turn your gaze to him instead of some pathetic sinner that thought they had a chance with you. He can feel his ears flatten slightly in agitation at the mere thought, but thankfully you're unable to see in your current position so he gives nothing away.

He sees he isn't the only one to get lost in his thoughts, since you haven't responded yet, and he's oh so curious to know what is going on in that head of yours. But another time. For now he was making such progress, he feels.

His chuckle in your ear is dark and low, but warm like honey before his voice rings out again, laced with amused curiosity.

“Mon cœur?”

You snap to attention at that, as if just remembering he was even there.

“Y-Yep! That's the book! Thank you!” 

The little stutter was cute, he admits. Especially when he knows he caused it. But he thinks this is enough for now, to help lead your mind down less…platonic roads. The idea was to have you approach him, to maintain that illusion of control. Like you thought of it, and approached him and he'll pretend to entertain the idea before giving it a shot.

But it's fine you were taking a while to grow the courage. He was a very patient man, and the way he was clearly driving you up the wall with his back and forth actions was certainly entertaining enough in the meantime.

“Glad to be of service!” His normal radio host cadence was back again as he pulled away, his touch leaving you entirely, and he's sure it leaves a cold spot in his absence that he's sure you notice, since he can feel the same sharp contrast of the lack of warmth on him from where you're no longer touching.

He seems so cheerful and carefree that it almost makes you wonder if you had hallucinated this whole interaction. But by the time you spin around to talk to him, he's already gone. But even from the shadows he can see the way your flushed face and wide eyes search the room for him, hand over your heart as if you could will your heartbeat to slow. He's certain you must be feeling a sense of whiplash from the drastic change in demeanor and he watches as you lean back against the shelves, holding the book and shaking your head a moment.

“I feel like I'm going crazy…” He watched you mutter and it only made him smile more. So his actions were effective after all. You were just trying very hard to be respectful and polite to him since you knew his nature so well…an endearing gesture that just made him want to sink his claws even deeper into you. 

Knowing his actions affect you just emboldens him further. When you share coffee the next morning with him and the two of you chat, tucked away in whatever room seemed to strike your fancy that day, he notices you seem to be avoiding his eyes, your head tilted down.

He tuts a moment, putting his coffee down and using one claw to tilt your head upward to face him, using his other hand to brush your hair away from your face to stop obscuring his attempts to look at you.

“There we are. Much better.” He smiles brightly at you, even as he sees the crimson rush to your cheeks. He lets his hands linger a little longer than needed before he releases you and picks his coffee cup back up again, as if what he's done wasn't abnormal in the slightest.

“A-Alastor…?” He hears you ask tentatively, and he thinks his patience is finally going to pay off.

“Yes mon cœur?” He asks, tilting his head to the side in an innocent manner that is a laughable contrast to what you know of the radio demon's legacy and reputation.

“I..” He leans forward slightly, eager for your expected confession, his eyes drifting down to your throat as he watches you swallow thickly from nerves.

“...I…n-nevermind. I…forgot what I was going to say.” You eventually give up and his shoulders slump just the slightest bit in disappointment although his smile doesn't falter, although it is strained.

“...No worries. When it comes back to you, I've always got an open ear available for you.” He assures you, although inside he sighs. How can he make you crack? He wants to make you crack before he does, to maintain that illusion of control and so you don't realize the power you possess of how much he could give you if you only asked. He's thinking again, a peaceful quiet settled over the both of you as you each are lost in thought over your individual predicaments.

Perhaps…he could distract you from your date, maybe even ensure you miss it anyway, and perhaps see him in a less…platonic way at the same time. He could simply…take the place of this undeserving date of yours. 

“...You know…I had heard there was a new jazz club that had opened up recently, and I know no one else here has enough taste to appreciate the music appropriately so I wouldn't want to take any of them.” He uses his free hand to wave off the notion before you can even suggest it. 

“Perhaps I could take you with me? Perhaps I can show you how well I bet we could cut a rug together? It's been quite some time since I've gotten to enjoy a dance with a worthy partner.” He says, putting particular emphasis on the last word, eyes partially closing as he makes sure to look at you with a more seductive gaze to further entice you.

You always respond to his compliments so well, a nervous fidget, perhaps a bite of your lip as you think of how to respond, and of course that cute little blush he was quite fond of by now.

“That…” You swallow again, opening your mouth a moment as if searching for words before you continue speaking.

“That sounds…lovely. Just…let me know when to be ready.”

This time his grin is more reminiscent of a spider watching a fly heading right into its web as he gives you all the details needed of when and where.

When the time officially comes, he's delighted that you show up in the lobby at the appropriate time for a few reasons. It meant you were going to go, was the most obvious reason. But the second reason was that unless this idiot wanted to take you dancing on a Sunday night…you probably broke your date with them to be with him. A fact that certainly makes his ego puff up as he takes your hand and kisses it, a routine that feels almost natural now.

“My…I'll be the envy of everyone there with this beauty on my arm…” He chuckles, smiling wider when he sees that tell tale blush spread down to your neck as you stumble over a ‘thank you’. He offers his arm to you, which you politely take as if he were escorting you anywhere normally. Him initiating contact, even if it was small, was also beginning to feel more natural to you both, even if it was small touches.

He can tell by the way you act that you can sense this is different from other friendly outings you two had been on. Good. He was beginning to doubt his abilities to charm for a little bit there. Perish the thought.

There are also, admittedly, things that he has begun to notice are different as the night goes on as well. Had he always been able to feel how warm your hands were or had he just never noticed? It's easier to notice now as he twirls you around to the lovely jazz band playing up on stage, hand never letting yours go entirely as the two of you dance.

He's also glad to see those pesky nerves of yours finally seemed to be wearing off and you were relaxing with him again, like you had before he began attempting to quietly pursue you. Your smile and laugh were far more carefree and jovial as he dips you, arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you from falling before he tugs you back up to continue.

With you relaxing, he finds himself mirroring that demeanor and he's overall less anxious and tense, and much less focused on ensnaring you. Now he was just…having fun. No planning. No ulterior motives. Just having a good time. It's actually quite nice to enjoy the feeling in the moment.

There are a few brief moments where you tense, for instance when his face comes just a little too close to yours, and he can tell you're clearly wondering if he'll close the gap or if you're just imagining things that aren't there. Or when he gives a particularly sultry gaze and accompanying grin as he pulls his lovely dancing partner closer when the distance between you two becomes greater than he wants.

But overall it's an absolutely lovely night and once you've both had your fill you step off the dance floor, Alastor taking a moment to check the time and grinning deviously to himself. It was far too late to meet with up with whoever your date had been, and his ego is admittedly fluffed knowing he was the one able to distract you so thoroughly, as it should be.

As the two of you sit down at one of the tables in the corner, each grabbing a drink from the bar first, you're still laughing with absolute glee over the wonderful night so far.

He enjoys picking your brain as he sips his rye, head resting gently on his free hand as he nods and agrees and puts in his own two cents on this new jazz club. It feels delightfully normal and cozy. While he does quite enjoy flustering you and watching you flounder…he had missed these easygoing conversations he couldn't really seem to have with others. You had been walking on eggshells around him this week, and he didn't realize how terribly he missed this type of interaction with you until now.

It's only after awhile he pretends to check the clock and feigns shock before turning back to you.

“Oh dear! I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. I hope you didn't have any other plans I might have ruined.” His chuckle is easygoing, thinking he knows the answer but wanting to hear you say it anyway. He wants to hear you say you chose him, instead of him just silently knowing.

But you just shake your head, grin still plastered across your face before you take a sip of your cocktail.

“Nope! This was my only plan tonight and I couldn't imagine anything better!” Another delighted laugh from you as confusion crosses his own face immediately.

He cocks his head to the side a little bit, trying to determine if you're lying or not. Although he has never known you to lie to him before…

“Really? It's not nice to lie to me. I thought we were close. No prior commitments to anyone broken to be here with me tonight? No silly little paramour trying to steal away your attention?” He puts emphasis on the word, putting his drink down and using that hand to gently grab your chin and tilt your head up to look him in the eye so he could analyze your expression more acutely. He doesn't mean to say the word ‘paramour’ with such disdain, it simply creeps out into his voice.

But now you just look confused as well as you look up at him.

“No…? I mean. I told Husk about this place and mentioned wanting to go this weekend to check it out. But I didn't say I had anyone in mind to go with me. If anything I was going to ask you, knowing this is your kind of place.” You answer carefully, unsure what the correct answer is supposed to be, and he freezes, hand on your chin tightening almost imperceptibly as the gears begin to turn in his mind.

There's a soft flare of radio static interference that sounds from him that makes others nearby give him more room than they had previously.

You, however, are unafraid. You've become too close to him to really fear he would do anything bad to you. Right now you're mostly just concerned for him and this odd behavior.

His hand drops away from your face, as he takes another sip of his rye, taking that time to collect himself and think of his next course of action.

He should have known better than to trust one singular source of information without double checking…damnit. He had been so wrapped up in his stupid newfound jealousy that he hadn't even stopped to ask Husk if he was absolutely positive that's what you said. He thinks the idiot must have misheard you, and he foolishly accepted it at face value.

But the wheels are turning in your head now too, mouth falling slightly agape as your eyes widen, an outlandish possibility entering your mind that claws at your curiosity so desperately you can't stop yourself from blurting it out.

“...Alastor…Were you trying to stop me from going on what you thought was a date?” You ask, and the excited anticipation in your voice could not be mistaken even though you did try to hide it.

“Of course not.” Is what comes out of his mouth immediately as he pulls away defensively, his ears flattening slightly, two things you pick up on. He's unaware how hard your heart is beating right now as you try to summon the courage to speak your next thought, part of you still thinking it so impossible you shouldn't even bother asking.

“...Are you…jealous over the idea of someone dating me?” You inquire curiously, quirking your head to the side and snaking one hand across the table and taking his hesitantly, unsure if you're crossing some invisible line. You're unsure if you're just firing a shot in the dark and he'll laugh at the notion. But somehow the atmosphere feels far too heavy for him to joke about something like this. It's felt heavy like this all week and you wanted to know why.

But the question just has him put his drink down a little more harshly than he meant to. But he doesn't pull his other hand from yours, the touch a little soothing to him as he deals with his scattered thoughts.

“No.” He says concretely while looking you in the eye, as if daring you to suggest otherwise.

But you still aren't convinced…not with how he had been acting this past week, and this new knowledge. Perhaps…you could try and be a little bold? Perhaps test the waters yourself?

“...That's a shame. I wouldn't have minded if you were.” You state quietly, his ears almost straining to pick up the sound of your voice over the music. Your gaze is pointedly looking away,  unsure you would have had the courage to say the words if you had been looking directly at him.

You startle and look back at him, specifically at his hand holding yours because his grip has become noticeably tighter. He's moving closer again, to the shorter distance he had been before he pulled away and you swallow thickly, wondering if you had made a mistake.

His voice is low, and you can oddly see conflict present in his eyes, as if he was warring over what decision to make.

“...and if I say I am?” His voice is heated and almost husky as he speaks, looking you directly in the eye again as he leans even closer now, his face mere inches from yours now.

You're struck speechless by this admission, not even dreaming of that response actually being a reality, and your voice is stuck in your throat as you scramble for a response. Your breath hitches slightly as all you can do is stare at him a moment trying to process this as he waits for your answer, unreadable in this moment.

Your other hand is shaking as you bring it up to rest on his cheek, watching him close his eyes a moment before opening them again as he leans into the touch. It gives you the courage to speak that thought that feels almost too silly to put out into the world.

“...I…I would say you have no reason to be.” You're leaning just the smallest bit forward, as if to silently give permission but not wanting to take that first step yourself and cross his boundaries without permission. 

It just made him adore you more.

He bridges the distance, eyes closing as the hand not holding yours is placed on the back of your neck to push you closer, to silently assure you this was no accident.

He can feel your hand gripping his tightly now in response and he can't help but grin into the kiss as you begin to reciprocate once the shock has worn off, lips moving against his with an eager hunger before eventually parting. There's something almost tender in the way he grips your neck, that makes you melt into the kiss with him with ease.

He has to admit he's definitely a fan of this look of yours. Wide eyed, breathing a bit hard with a flushed face and slightly parted mouth as you gazed at him. He wants to see it again.

“...Good. I'm not the type of person who does well with jealousy I've discovered.” His voice is chipper and normal, as if he hadn't just taken your breath away for a moment. Just the whiplash of going from one side of him to the other has you laughing as you lean back, the hand that was once on his face now covering your own.

“...I'll keep that in mind.” You grin, spreading your fingers just enough to peek out at him. 

Further discussions could wait until tomorrow of course, of boundaries and labels and everything that comes with it. But for now this is enough. His cards are on the table yes, but yours are laid bare for him to see as well. So he relaxes again into his seat, leaning back but not taking his hand back from yours before looking at the dance floor again.

“...Do you feel like dancing again mon cœur?” He asks, already tugging your hand up to bring you with him. He's eager to dance with you again without having to pretend his intimate and more romantic touches were accidental this time. He hears you giggle before taking another sip of your cocktail and then you're tugging him down to be eye level with you. 

“I'd love that, mon amour.” You teasingly breathe into his ear, and you're rewarded by this time getting to see his breath hitch instead of it always being you. You may still not know what he's been calling you, but everyone knows that term of endearment, and there's an almost sinful sense of pride that you were able to pull that type of reaction from him, and now you're even more eager to dance with him again, to find out what else you can see that no one else has before.

You think you understand all the teasing touches he gave you that left you wanting all this week, probably trying to test the waters and bait you into confessing yourself, you can likely guess now. If this is how he felt seeing you react all those times you couldn't blame him.

Perhaps it's only fair to begin to repay him for those tormenting whispers and touches, you think as you two step onto the dance floor, your hand placing itself on his chest before slowly gliding up further and then over his collarbone to rest gingerly on his shoulder for support, your fingers digging in slightly to the flesh of his back. It's hard to tell in this dimly lit lounge but you swear there's a tinge of red to his face, and it just further strengthens the hunger you feel when he growls softly and leans over to whisper to you.

“Tread carefully my dear. I have every intention of approaching this courtship as a gentleman. Do not make that impossible for me to remember…”

Taglist: @zzzykiek @alastorthirsty @sirens-and-moonflowers

[silent-sanctum]

Your last fics tearing my hearts apart😭😭Anyways may I request jotaro kujo with a pregnant s/o? He probably would be defensive like that time when Holly got the fever

Ah yes! We have another 2-for-1 special! But let's make it a list of headcanons to switch things up 😉This one's for @lolsandlmaos and anon, and let me just say, yes; I love writing wholesome dadtaro content and I'm glad the audience likes some wholesome dadtaro content too. So, hope you enjoy! ♡

Before I start, can we all just silently agree that Jotaro really just wanted a family of his own canonically?

Think about it, we know he isn't the type to sleep around at random. What if the man wanted what his grandparents had and live a life without the Stand bs? The fact he found somebody and had a kid with her tells us that he tried to make it work, but we know that it didn't as we see in the series.

"I've always cherished you"

He wanted that life. He wanted to be a good father to his daughter. But he couldn't because of the family curse.

Anyways! Let's forget the canon for a moment and delve into some wholesome headcanons!

When he first heard the news, he was pleasantly surprised that he couldn't speak for a solid minute. He simply stared at you with wide eyes and stunned silence.

Later that day, the man is glued to your side holding you in his arms and he's uncharacteristically showing affection: He's nuzzling your neck, planting kisses wherever he could, gently swaying you back and forth, and most importantly, he's often caressing your flat tummy.

Now that's done with, Jotaro's already gone into Papa Wolf mode as early as the first weeks

He knows he isn't the sunny Golden Retriever type of guy like his grandfather or great-grandfather, so he isn't naturally attuned to being a first-time dad. Lowkey, he's anxious he might end up as a shitty husband in the process.

But what he does know is that he loves to research, is adaptable, and is a quick learner

He begins to visit the nearby library and study "maternal and child care". Then proceeds to go over what to do for each trimester, he studies proper diet and eating patterns for pregnant partners, and studiously digests a whole book's worth of "How to be a Good Father".

Being in this mode also means he naturally becomes protective of you. He makes sure that he has time for you and your needs. Want to go anywhere out of the house? He'll be accompanying you there. No doubt.

If anyone even remotely makes a rude remark about you, Star Platinum has already punched their teeth out.

If you thought Jotaro couldn't cook, then think again because when his partner is pregnant, you bet your ass that he'll learn how to cook faster than you expected him to.

At first, he's still working on the basics like knowing what ingredients and kitchen paraphernalia should be used. He has a recipe book or two propped up for him to skim over and study. He even calls Holly for cooking tutorials when he feels like he's hit a learning slump. His mother has already booked a ticket to your place and immediately teaches her son numerous cooking lessons

Weeks later, you're surprised that Jotaro has become a natural in the kitchen, being able to dish out your favorites with seemingly no issue. It turns out that while Jotaro did most of the work, he had Star assist him with the "finer" stuff (i.e. measurements, cutting, etc.)

Suffice it to say, he takes pride in himself that he can now make you smile with his newfound talent.

Then there are the cravings. Of course, when you ask him to buy the most random food combinations, Jotaro would simply say "okay" and buy them anyway, as long as the food choices weren't harmful to you and the baby. He'd also give you food even if you asked him in the ass crack of morning.

Anything to make you happy after all

When it comes to building the nursery, Jotaro leaves you to do the interior designing and aesthetic choices since he's shit at that. But when the furniture arrives in their boxes, then it's time for him to step in and does all the arranging, moving, and assembling for you. Have a planned layout? He'll follow them. Want the walls painted a certain color? No problem.

After you planned everything out and he finished his tasks, the nursery ended up being marine-themed with all the pastel blues and aquatic decor like sea animal plushies, a shell lamp, glow-in-the-dark fish wall stickers, and more bringing life to the place.

Remember when I said he'd do work, yeah he'll do the work. House husband style. He'll do the chores and let you rest, grumpily insisting you sit and relax when you try to convince him that you can do the lighter tasks.

From time to time, when both of you aren't doing anything, Jotaro would occasionally turn to your round stomach and reach forward to caress it, blushing as he does so.

Then a kick happens and the man's fully attuned to you in awe. On the outside, he's still a calm dude but deep down, he's so excited that the baby responded to his touch. You ended up scooting closer to him, seeking cuddles while he reciprocates as he still continues to stroke your tummy.

Jotaro, at this point in his life, has the patience of a monk towards his loved ones, so when the mommy mood swings kick in, he is more than ready to adapt to your every emotional breakdown even if he's just going to be there to either take it, calm you, or comfort you in silence

That also includes the part where you become horny. Of course, he'll be gentler with you during this time of your pregnancy, but he can't help but include a few rough bucks of his hip when he's about to go off the edge.

Other times, just touching you can help ease that heightened libido

He'll immediately drive you to the hospital once your water breaks. He'll wait with you throughout labor, hoping his soft caresses are enough to make up for his lack of comforting words. At times, Star will come out to help him distract you from the contractions.

He'd pace around outside the delivery room, anxious with his mind already overthinking what bad could happen to you and the baby. It's a good thing Holly is there to help reassure her son that his wife and child would be okay.

When Jotaro finally gets to visit, his eyes land on the swaddled little one in her tiny crib stationed beside your bed. He beelines straight to it and pauses in complete awe at the tiny baby cooing before him.

You can't help but giggle as your husband's eyes start to water as he gingerly reaches down to pick up his newborn daughter. He's still in awe, completely fixated on baby Jolyne.

Then after he sits down on the chair by your bedside, he brings his index to touch her and his heart skips a beat when the baby grasps it with her whole hand.

And the waterworks are broken and he ends up leaning against your side while you nuzzle against him as he tries to regain composure from tearing up so much from seeing and feeling his bundle of joy.

Admittedly, Jotaro is scared about whether he'd do a good job being a father, but to both you and himself, he promises that he'll do his damn best.

[swanlakebaby]

obsessed ex-gf pt. 2 | pjm

→ summary: after getting caught watching jimin through this windows, you feel weary going back to stalking him. when you finally muster up the courage to go back, you see something you never would’ve imagined seeing. so, you decide to get your revenge instead. if you couldn’t have him, no one could. → pairing: bts!jimin x obsessivefem!reader → tags: smut, risky, masturbation, obsessed gf, stalker, jimin, bts jimin, love making, sex → word count: n/a, but def over 1.2k! → a/n: i originally planned to make this a one-off story but people asked for a part two and i felt inspired to continue so here it is. enjoy! :) masterlist

you stare down at the message, a hard lump of anxiety forming at the bottom of your throat. had he really seen me? you thought to yourself. i need to play this off somehow.. you spend the next seven minutes typing and deleting excuses and lies, trying to come up with something even slightly believable.

what do you mean? is all you’re able to send after eventually giving up.

don’t play dumb with me, i can spot your car from a mile away. just don’t come back.

you swallow hard and begin to rapidly text out a rushed lie. as you hit send, the message fails to deliver. he had blocked you just like that. you knew it was a bad sign. that he fully believed you were the one watching him and he no longer wanted to deal with you at any capacity. you began to feel hot flashes of fear, wondering if he was going to report you for creepily sitting outside of his apartment building with binoculars.

for the next few days, you stay weary of jimin’s neighborhood. you felt addicted to the euphoric feeling that came with watching him through his windows, but the risk currently felt too high. it was only a week later that you finally felt confident enough to return.

after work, your co-workers gathered around the break room. “i heard that new tex-mex spot a few minutes away was pretty good, and they also serve margaritas!” one of them said, checking the google maps from their phone. the group sat on that suggestion for a while, occasionally throwing out other places too. you moved around the group and began packing your things off of your desk. “you’re not going?” one of the others said, furrowing their eyebrows and glancing at you as if you not going would suddenly ruin the night or something. you shake your head with a fake-sorry expression on your face. “i’m sorry- i can’t join you guys tonight, as fun as it sounds.” you say, zipping up your laptop case. because i have to go watch my ex possibly jerk off in his apartment again. you think to yourself, looking around for a moment to make sure you didn’t actually say that out loud.

“i’ve got family coming over. we’re supposed to have a whole family dinner thing so..” you trail off, looking at all of their faces to see if they believed you. they eventually nodded understandingly and wished you a great family dinner as you rushed out of the door and to your car. today, you didn’t actually plan to watch jimin. it was during your lunch break that you ultimately decided you’d go back today, meaning you didn’t have time to stuff any toys under your car seat before work today. your hands would have to suffice.

when you get in the car you pull out your phone.

can i borrow your car? mine has been having issues lately. just need to run a quick errand. ty!

you stare at the screen as the typing bubbles dance up and down.

sure darling

you sigh out a heavy breath of relief and drive to your moms house. you park beside her car and pull down on the cars compartment handle and grab your binoculars before putting them in your purse and getting out of the car. before you can approach the door, your mom is already on the porch with her car keys in hand. “hi baby.” she says lovingly, pulling you in for a hug. “hi mom.” you say, reaching forward for the keys. she pulls her hand back with a smirk. “in a rush, aren’t we? what’s wrong with your car by the way?” your mom looks over your shoulder towards you car. “just general problems, but i’m too paranoid to drive far distances.” you lie, not breaking eye contact with your mom. “ah. maybe your father can take a look at it? HON-”

“mom! it’s okay.” you say, cutting her off before she can call for your dad. “it’s fine. i probably just need an oil change or something. i’ve already scheduled a maintenance appointment for tomorrow. okay?” you wanted to leave already, to be parked discreetly around his apartment building, fingering away at yourself. your mom smiles softly, dropping the keys in your hand. “i’m worried about you.” she says with a lower tone. you furrow your eyebrows at her, gripping the keys tighter. “what do you mean?”

“i mean- since jimin broke up with you. you don’t come over that much anymore, sometimes i think you’re dead until i see you on TV.” she says with a concerned laugh. you take a deep breath and pull your mom into a tight hug. “i’m fine. i promise. i just want to go run my errand real quick. when i come back, ill possibly stay for dinner.” you say reassuringly as you give your mom a soft kiss on the cheek.

when you finally escape the grasp of your mom, you think over the plan. leaving your car with your mom was beneficial for multiple reasons. if for whatever reason jimin was to allegedly see you, he’d most likely doubt himself. you’re in a completely different car now. plus, your car was at your moms place. it definitely looked like you were over for a family dinner. you kept a mental note to yourself to schedule that car appointment.

you parked in a different spot than usual, but still in close proximity to be able to see through his apartment. you reach into your purse and grab the binoculars. you see jimin, clearly setting up for something. the rooms atmosphere felt different. the lighting was warm and inviting, candles on the counters and coffee table. you pan over to his room, rose petals on the bed. you grit your teeth angrily. jimin suddenly looks up ahead of him, a soft smile spreading across the face as he slowly stands up and approaches the woman coming out of the bathroom.

he wraps his arms around her, stuffing his face into her neck. what the fuck? you feel livid, but you can’t pull back. not yet. he spins her around, checking her out. the cherry red lingerie set she had on complimented her olive toned complexion, her chocolate brown curls falling down her shoulders and back effortlessly. you immediately decided to yourself that you didn’t like her. you kept watching regardless. after he spun her around, she grinned and wrapped her arms around him lovingly. the energy quickly shifted however as he grabbed onto her wrist and began slowly making his way into the bedroom, tugging her along behind him. she began crawling onto the bed, laying flat on her back.

he gently closed the door and walked over to her before climbing on top of her. an entire makeout session between the two broke out. you didn’t move, watching as they began slowly stripping away their clothes. he made out with her the same way he made out with you. intense, hot, like he’d starve to death if he didn’t get enough of your taste.

in what seemed like seconds, he was already inside of her. he began fucking her in a missionary position, making your blood boil. you hated the fact that you were witnessing this. of all fucking days. you scoff. you also hated the fact that the desire to masturbate still lingered inside of you. you slid your hand down your work pants, teasing your clit as you watched your ex make love to a woman you had never seen before. you felt angry and began taking out this anger on yourself, knowing that going up there and confronting him just wasn’t an option.

you fingered yourself roughly, the wetness of your insides quickly coating your fingers. jimin stopped and lifted her up, carrying her through the living room and to the kitchen. he placed her onto one of the counters facing away from you. his bare back was facing you now. the only thing you could see was her legs poking out from the sides of him. you still couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. a part of you got off to it, and another part of you felt angry.

he slammed himself against her. this went on for a few more minutes and you felt yourself about to cum. when you finally did, your body entered a relaxed state. the desire to cum was no longer there and anger took full control of your body now. you keep your binoculars on them, fuming at how he dared to make love to another person. someone that wasn’t you. without moving the binoculars, you reach your free hand into your bag and grab your phone.

you scroll to your camera and level your phone up with the binoculars, zooming in and snapping dozens of photos of the pair in various positions. you saw jimin stand and stiffen up, jerking himself above her and trying to induce an orgasm.

you quickly throw the binoculars onto the floor and start the car, backing up and speeding off out of the neighborhood.