#so there is lots I don’t tell her/refuse to speak on. and you know what doesn’t it MATTER. because the point is not to push myself

[itspileofgoodthings]

i love my counselor because she refuses to pry. don’t even know if she knows that’s an option, I have so rarely met a person who stays so thoroughly in her lane.

[rafesangelita]

can you pleaseeee do some angst with pogue!sweetheart!reader, like she overhears some of the girls at the country club talking about her and saying things like “i don’t know what rafe see’s in her, she’s still a pogue.” and rafe possibly reassuring her? thank you!

warnings: bullying (?), classist comments, slight fluff

a/n: i got carried away (like always lol) leave requests if you’d like!

“rafe, as much as i love you, i don’t think i can stand out here much longer.” you fanned yourself, using your hand to block the sun from hitting your face. rafe and topper were currently playing golf while you played cart girl for them, the summer heat quickly becoming far too hot for you to handle. rafe paused their game, jogging over to you as he took his wallet out of the pocket of his pants.

“start up a tab at the bar, go ahead and cool off, baby.” you accepted his card, silently asking ‘are you sure?’ before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips. “go, on.” rafe reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you make your way inside the country club.

you couldn’t help but sigh in relief when a gust of cool air blew past you, immediately ordering a virgin piña colada as you took a seat at the rather empty bar. rafe loved to bring you over to the country club, especially since you pretty much knew everyone from all the times you came to sell your baked goods, although it wouldn’t hurt to make some actual friends instead of acquaintances.

speaking of friends, you spotted a table not too far away, all three girls already looking at you before you smiled at them. no one smiled back. clearing your throat awkwardly, you fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you waited for your drink to be made. “you see rafe out on the golf course today? he is just so handsome.” oh, god. your breath hitched, your heart dropping as you continued to listen in on their conversation.

“he is! why he’s dating some pogue baker girl? i’ll never know.”

“that’s literally her over there.”

you shut your eyes, wishing the ground could swallow you whole. “i mean.. she’s pretty and all, but at the end of the day she’s still a pogue.” the girl’s laughter echoed in your ears, your skin flush with embarrassment. “well, it’s obvious that she’s just a charity case. rafe probably feels bad for the girl.” the way they all collectively agreed with one another made tears prick at your eyes.

just when you thought the comments couldn’t get any worse, your jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the next accusation. “maybe he’s paying her to have sex with him or something. i could imagine she has to scrape for some kind of change if she lives on the cut.” you were crying now, refusing to let them see any kind of tears running down your face. “one virgin piña colada.” the bartender placed the pretty drink down in front of you, a round of laughter erupting from behind you.

“a virgin piña colada? what is she? twelve?”

deciding you couldn’t take it anymore, you left a cash tip on the counter and muttered a ‘put it on on rafe cameron’s tab, please.’ before leaving without sparing them a single glance. to say you were mortified would be an understatement. rafe was probably going to freak out once he saw that you just up and left, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay there another second.

you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot when you heard rafe’s voice calling after you. “y/n!” he was panting when he finally got to you, “hey, wait a second baby.” you quickly wiped your eyes before turning around, your boyfriend immediately sensing something was wrong. “woah, woah, what happened?” rafe tucked your hair behind your ears, cupping your chin before using his thumbs to stroke your tear-stained cheeks.

“nothing, i just don’t feel so good-”

“it’s not that.” he cut in, eyes flickering between yours. “what happened?” rafe asked once again. you knew it was impossible to lie to him. “tell me, baby, so i can fix it.” his jaw clenched, blue orbs wide with concern. you laughed bitterly. “you can’t fix girls who gossip.” at your words, rafe blinked before looking back at the country club. “are you talking about the snobs at the table near the window?” rafe took your silence as his answer, nodding slowly before draping an arm across your shoulders.

“what did they say?” his voice was eerily calm as he walked you two over to his truck. “it’s stupid, really.” you sniffled, letting rafe place you in the passenger seat. he kept the door open, leaning on the frame as he took your hand in his. “tell me.” rafe’s voice was stern, his chest rising and falling with each breath. you sighed, avoiding his gaze as you spoke. “they said that you have to be paying me to have sex with you because apparently i’m ‘scraping’ for change since i live on the cut.”

rafe’s jaw ticked, his eyes narrowing as he took your words in. “is that it?” he cleared his throat, his vision slowly blinding him with white hot anger. “they also said that they couldn’t understand why you would want to be with a ‘pogue baker girl’.. maybe their right.” rafe’s head shot up at your last statement, his face twisting in confusion. “what are you talking about?” he took your hand in his.

“i’m not even worth half of what these girls are,” you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying again, “i don’t have rich parents, i don’t have a trust fund that ensures i don’t have to work a day in my life, who am i kidding?” you shook your head. rafe studied you for a moment. “you know what you do have?” he lifted your chin, “a heart.”

“that’s something that no amount of money can buy. you have something priceless, y/n. you carry it with you everywhere you go.” rafe pressed a kiss to your temple, mumbling a ‘i’ll be right back.’ before he shut your door. you were a mess after that, his words not only being a comfort to you, but affirming.

rafe was gone for a few minutes before he strided out of the country club, a new piña colada in his hand. “here. now we sit and wait.” you took the drink from him, taking a sip as you watched two security guards escort the group of girls out. “what did you do?” you relaxed in your seat, glancing between rafe and the scene before you.

“got them blacklisted from the club. their parents aren’t as rich as you think.” he laughed, moving his attention to you. “don’t ever question yourself like that again. please.” he turned the engine on. “where are we going?” you asked. “we are going to go get you your own card, with your own little ‘trust fund’, alright?” he nodded.

“you’ll never have to worry about anyone talking like that about you ever again.”

[cabeswaterdrowned]

I don’t understand so many lines of thought certain people had going into this show but one of ones I understand least is people who thought they were going to watch the whole affair storyline unfold not only with no physical intimacy, but also no emphasis on them being attracted to each other, and also no one actively flirting with anyone else like????

[vintagetvstars]

Nichelle Nichols Vs. Eartha Kitt

Final

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt - (Batman) - No text propaganda

Nichelle Nichols - (Star Trek) - She speaks for herself. Legendary, iconic, at the forefront of feminism and civil rights in the 60s, she is a triple threat who did so much more. She volunteered from 1977 to promote recruitment diversity within NASA, including some of the first female and ethnic minority astronauts. Martin Luther King Jr. compared her work on Star Trek as a 'vital role model' to the civil rights marches. She refused to be dismissed, fought for visibility and shone whilst doing so. As a woman in stem, and simply a woman she means the world and stars above to me.

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Nichelle Nichols:

She is the original badass babe. She was a black woman in a leading role on TV in the 60s, a trailblazer for black actresses for years to come. She is so beautiful and so awesome.

she's fantastic. have you seen her? paved the way for black actresses on TV even while her lines and scenes were being cut and improvised the most iconic uhura line in the series. (sulu: "I'll save you, fair maiden!" uhura, pushing him away: "sorry, neither!") she's incredibly talented and it's a crime the show didn't give her more screen time (or make her sing more often because she also has a beautiful voice!)

“Sorry, neither” in response to “fair maiden” was ad libbed by her. There’s a lot more I could say but what else do you need??

A sci-fi icon!

She was such a trailblazer, and Uhura was such an important character for so many people to be able to see on TV. Apparently Mae Jemison (the first African American woman to go into space) cited her as a reason she wanted to become an astronaut. She was just an absolute legend!

The story of Martin Luther King telling her not to quit Star Trek gives me chills. Representation matters. “Thank you so much, Dr. King. I’m really going to miss my co-stars.” Dr. King's smile, Nichols recalled, vanished from his face. "He said, 'What are you talking about?'" the actress explained. "I told him. He said, 'You cannot,' and so help me, this man practically repeated verbatim what Gene said. He said, 'Don’t you see what this man is doing, who has written this? This is the future. He has established us as we should be seen. 300 years from now, we are here. We are marching. And this is the first step. When we see you, we see ourselves, and we see ourselves as intelligent and beautiful and proud.' He goes on and I’m looking at him and my knees are buckling. I said, 'I…, I…' And he said, 'You turn on your television and the news comes on and you see us marching and peaceful, you see the peaceful civil disobedience, and you see the dogs and see the fire hoses, and we all know they cannot destroy us because we are there in the 23rd Century.'"

She shared the first interracial kiss on Star Trek, helped propel real life African American women into space-related careers, and looks divine in a mini skirt.

HOW DID UHURA WALK BACKWARDS SO FAR??? WOW!

[consciouscarrot]

day 11 - medical kink/doctor x patient [r.lupin]

remus lupin x fem!reader

content warnings; dub/con, innocence, abuse of power (remus), so many pet names, vaginal fingering, p in v, basically ‘hysteria’, very unrealistic loss of virginity (next to no pain mentions, remus doesn’t go slow etc), r thinks she’s been wetting herself slightly but she’s just horny and wet lol, age gap (r is 18, remus’ age is undisclosed but he’s a licensed doctor)

notes; (unintentionally) the longest fic i’ve even written by far, oh my god my thumbs hurt. all likes, comments and reblogs much appreciated. as always mdni

part 2

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

you’d been guided into the empty room at the doctors office by the bored receptionist, her muttering something about the doctor joining you soon, and to take a seat.

it had been a few minutes since then, you were sat carefully on one of the patients chairs, grasping nervously at the cross hanging between your breasts. the ticking of the clock only amplified your nerves, leg bouncing as you stared at the door, imaging all the ways this appointment could go wrong.

you jumped when the door opened, doctor lupin walked in, smiling widely as he shut and locked the door behind him.

“hello, it’s lovely to see you again, y/n,” he sat down at his chair, not taking his eyes off of you.

you nodded along, not trusting your voice just yet, nails now digging into your bare thighs, skirt shifting higher up your legs.

“now, i was told that you’d been having some female problems, could you tell me more about that?”

avoiding eye contact, you chewed on you lip before attempting to explain your embarrassing situation, “i- um, i’ve been having some- some weird feelings, y’know uh, down there,” you mumbled.

“okay, how long has this been going on for, hm?”

“a few weeks, maybe. it’s- it’s on and off though, not all the time,” what you refused to mention, was that whenever you were experiencing these feelings, was when you were thinking about your hot new doctor.

“yeah? so around the time that i saw you last? why didn’t you mention anything then, sweetheart? it seems to be bothering you an awful lot,”

oh my gosh, this was the most mortifying moment of your life. how on earth were you supposed to tell him that the weird sensations only started happening since you met him.

you’d had to change doctors after you moved house, still living at home with your parents, and had met dr lupin for a standard checkup. you’d instantly become a stuttering mess- much like you were now- at how attractive he was.

you weren’t sure how to answer his question, cheeks flaming, and almost sighed in relief when he clearly pitied you enough to ask something different.

“do you think you could describe what the weird feelings are like, honey? are they painful?” he asks, face twisted in concern.

“no they don’t hurt, it’s like- tingly, i think. feels throbby and uncomfortable. it um-,” you shifted in your seat, eyes locked on your mary-jane clad feet.

“it’s okay, take your time,”

“it makes me pee a little, i keep having to change my- my underwear,” you eyes began to sting in humiliation, knowing that if your parents found out that you’d been wetting yourself at the age of 18, they’d never speak to you again.

“sh, sh there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. are you sure it’s pee? or is it thicker, maybe a clearish-white?”

“yeah, it’s just like that, and it’s sticky too,”

“i think i know the problem, y/n. it’s easily treated, but you’ll need regular treatments with me to keep it contained, okay?” he wheeled his chair closer to his desk, typing something in his computer, nodding when you meekly said okay.

you were beyond relieved that you were going to be okay, that you wouldn’t have to confess your sins to the priest and your parents, that you could be cured by your nice doctor.

“alright, i need you to fully undress, get into this gown and lay down on the bed for me, then we can start the first session,” he gave you no room for arguments, handing you a pale blue hospital gown and turning back to his computer.

you shuffled over to the bed, slowly undressing and blanching at the thought of him seeing you borderline naked. your family were very christian and at a young age you had promised to never ruin yourself, especially not before marriage. you’d never been allowed any boyfriends growing up, always heavily punished if you’d been caught even looking at a boy for too long.

you’d since learnt your lesson, only having girl friends, steering clear of anyone outside of the church and keeping your head down in public. the idea that dr lupin would be seeing you down there, was enough to bring you close to tears.

you peered over your shoulder periodically, nervous that he’d turn around and catch a peep of your bare skin.

slipping into the gown, you climbed onto the bed, laying back as you called out to him that you were ready.

you watched dr lupin set up, snapping on his gloves and sanitising various terrifying looking equipment on his metal table.

“just need you to pop your feet in the stirrups, lovely girl,”

you carefully did as he said, legs spread wide and feeling oh so vulnerable, but terribly scared of disappointing him. you hated it, but a small part of you was loving the way his hands gripped your ankles when he strapped you in, murmuring reassurances about it being for everyone’s safety, thumb stroking along your delicate skin.

eventually, he stood between your legs, blue gloved hands hovering above your private parts, “is it okay if i start? i’ll need to touch you.”

you nodded your consent, breath hitching as he made contact with your very inner thigh, fingertips sliding closer to where the problem originated, his eyes never leaving the area.

“are you having those feelings now? you’re all wet, love,”

a tear finally slipped free, cooling your burning cheeks as you turned your head away, shame consuming you.

“oh baby, it’s okay, i’m gonna help you, you want me to make you feel better?”

you nodded, finally looking up at him with salty tears glittering in your pretty eyes, wanting nothing more than this horrible feeling to go away. you wanted dr lupin to make you all better.

his digits glide over your pussy, your warm slick coating them. you whimper when he hits your sensitive clit, legs twitching in response. the taste of iron coated your tongue, biting down as a pathetic effort to try and keep quiet, mindful of other patients in the waiting room just down the hall.

he slowly started circling it, free hand going to press at your throbbing hole, “fuck, you really aren’t very well, are you poppet? s’alright, i have just the thing to make you feel good again, it’ll fix you right up,”

you cried out when a finger entered you, tight walls spasming around the foreign object. sobbing and shaking, so overcome with pleasure with him working you up to your fast approaching orgasm. you let out a sharp gasp, confused as to what was happening to your body. you were losing control of your movements, and you began to worry that you were being possessed by a demon.

those thoughts were cleared from your mind when you came with a squeal, thighs closing around his hands in an effort to get the overwhelming pleasure to stop. you were astounded that something medical could feel so amazing, or even that it was possible to feel like this at all. you felt very lucky that you had such a good doctor, even if he made you feel flustered.

already, the feeling deep in your belly was starting to be satiated, but you really hoped that there would be more treatment today, as it still lingered and you desperately needed to feel that bliss again.

when he pulled his fingers away, he could see the white substance ringed around them, arousal fluid still connecting your heat to him in strings. his erection was pulsing against his trousers, dampening the fabric there as he tried to hold back from corrupting you too much.

oh well, too late now.

he whispered praises to you, rubbing your thighs and smearing your cum all over them as he tried to calm you down, smiling softly when you reopened your eyes.

“that was intense, huh? you did so well for me, just need one more from you, then you’re all done for today. i know, it’s a lot, but it’s really important that we fully complete the treatment, especially seeing as you shook so much,”

you nodded hazily, head much too clouded in pleasure to be able to take in what he was saying. you’d never felt that good in your life, and you supposed that it was a good thing that you’d gone to the doctors first instead of the priest, feeling much better already.

still so caught up in your mind, you didn’t pay any attention to what dr lupin was doing, not noticing him snapping off his gloves before unbuckling his belt and pulling out his reddened cock.

“this piece of equipment is really gonna make a lot of difference in your recovery,” he said, rubbing his tip along your puffy entrance, groaning quietly when it caught, slipping inside slightly.

you moaned loudly when he finally pushed in, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the mixture of pleasure and pain.

dr lupin had to hold still for a moment, trying to hold back from giving you a creampie already at the sight of your virgin blood staining his cock, pearly white and crimson mixing to create a rosy pink that coated him.

checking that you were doing okay, he pulled out until only his tip was left inside of you. fingers grasping at your waist, hard enough that he knew it would leave plum coloured bruising, remus gave you no warning before he began to pound into you, letting out guttural groans as your back arched off the bed.

the clinical paper ripped beneath you, his hips slapping against you, the two of you moaned, fully giving up on staying quiet, getting lost in the feel of each other.

his rough hands grabbed at your ass, tugging you towards him with each thrust, sweat collecting along his hairline. his eyes switched between looking at your face and your pussy, tears still spilling over with a heated face, pussy covered in your shared fluids, throbbing around him.

feeling your high building up again, he held back his own, wanting to finally release together, he lifted a hand off of your ass, circling steadily over your little button to push you over the edge.

the band coiling inside of you finally snapped, and you whimpered as you squirmed around, body shaking uncontrollably. your nails dug into the sides of the bed, trying to hold on as he worked you through your orgasm, groaning out as he too let go.

you felt his hot cum spurting inside of you, moaning at the new feeling, praying internally that this would never end. your previously arched back fell down as your orgasm ended, aftershocks still wracking your body. you were happy that he had gotten to feel this good too, even if you didn’t understand what that fluid was, or why he’d felt pleasure as well.

breathless, his body involuntarily folded itself over in exhaustion, slumping down onto yours. he tried to catch his breath, feeling your chest expand and collapse underneath his face, heart beating wildly.

he slid he cock out of you, and you were just about lucid enough to notice this time that the piece of equipment was attached to his body. you thought it was quite handy to have something so useful joined onto him, wondering if that was a part of the training to become a doctor.

hot cum poured out of your abused hole, trailing down onto the ripped up clinical paper, soaking the already damp material. remus pulled it out from under you, binning it before grabbing a couple of baby wipes from a nearby drawer.

“good girl, did amazing for me, baby. y’might just be my best patient,”

he wiped you down, soothing you when you jolted from the cold feeling of the wipes, unstrapping your ankles, then guiding you into slowly standing and redressing, turning away when necessary but occasionally peering over his shoulder to catch glimpses of your pretty body.

“i think we’ll book you in for another session, let’s say two days from now? is 6:00pm alright with you?” he asked when you were ready to leave.

you quickly agreed, already excited for the next appointment. he helped you out to the car park where your parents were already waiting for you, ignoring the dirty look the receptionist gave the two of you, patiently holding you up as you stumbled along, before subtly patting at your bum, telling you that he can’t wait to see you again.

part 2

[shrimpybbq]

season 3 rafe with his gf & son

they’ve been on guadeloupe for a month now, and it was like rafe had transformed into a whole new person. he was the man of the family now, and he was taking over the finances, the household and all their business dealings. he had also changed drastically as a father, spending any of his free moments with charlie and everything he does, he does it for him

ugh rafe treats his gf so good in season 3, doing his best to show her just how much he appreciates her. he’s constantly spoiling her with affection, gifts, and dates. they go to nice restaurants on the island before coming back to the house, giggling as they make their way upstairs. rose groans as she sees rafe’s hands squeezing her ass, silently thankful her room is on the other side of the house (rafe is a loud grunter in bed, but sometimes he moans just that little too loudly)

they have the master bedroom in the house on guadeloupe and he loves to share a bath with his girl, relaxing with a glass of whiskey as she rests against his chest. rafe feels like everything is perfect in those moments

gf is still a bit uneasy about all the events that took place, but she tries to push her feelings away. she was here now, and this was going to be their life so she tries to embrace it

they spend lots of time out on the boat, lounging on the deck and relaxing in the sun. rafe loves to see his girl in a bikini, and he can’t keep his hands off of her, only behaving when charlie comes out with them too (rafe and charlie wear matching swim shorts)

she’s 100% in denial about the buzzcut at first, eyes widening as he walks through the door. he had mentioned getting a haircut but not this! gf is running her hands over his scalp sadly, whining about where ‘her’ hair went

“Don’t you like it, baby?” Rafe asked, looking down cheekily at his girl. He hadn’t expected such a reaction.

“I mean…. you still look good,” she said as her hand gravitated to the nape of his neck, quietly admitting “it suits you.” Rafe just smirked before placing a passionate kiss on her lips, his lips curving as she automatically went to thread her fingers through his locks, a small whimper leaving her in frustration.

when rafe meets with carlos singh, he’s already missing his family. after being blindsided by singh’s demands he goes to leave only to be stopped, the older man speaking calmly, “do I look like a fool to you, Mr Cameron? I know you want to get back to your pretty little family, but you have the cross, therefore, one of you has had the diary. If you don’t want anything to happen to those you care about, then get me that diary.” rafe is immediately on edge, telling him not to speak about his family ever again. he can’t stand the idea of either his gf or son getting caught up in his drama

rafe isn’t keen on going back to the obx, especially not after settling into a routine in guadeloupe. i can picture him refusing to go unless he gets to bring his family with him, despite their reluctance. little charlie loves guadeloupe and doesn’t want to go, but a little convincing from his mother and father and he’s excited and clapping his hands happily

barry comes around to tannyhill to discuss his and rafe’s plan, only to see the couple sitting outside on the large balcony. rafe is outstretched on the lounge, girlfriend sleepily tucked against his side. she’s almost asleep when barry walks in, whistling loudly at the sight of rafe’s hand once again on her ass

wherever rafe goes, gf goes too - he’s becoming paranoid that someone will hurt them. because she comes everywhere with him now, she’s aware of everything happening with the gold. rafe trusts her, and he tells barry that he should too. besides, it’s her and her son’s future in the balance too

when ward returns to kildare, rafe is not happy. he finally feels like things are falling into place - his girl is happy, his kid loves being home and he has the cross (or what’s left of it). he can start again, become a real businessman and provide for his family. he can give them a life others could only dream of, and whatever his dad wants is no longer relevant to him

rafe proudly displaying his girl in front of the whole party at his house, a little drunk and declaring his love for her, her cheeks flushing deeply at his words

rafe who has some of the gold turned into a ring to propose to her with, plus a pair of wedding bands for later. he wants to spend his whole life with his girlfriend, and call her his wife for real this time. rafe proposes casually, bringing out the ring from his bedside table one morning, sliding it on her finger while she sleeps. high school gf stirs later, going to brush her hair out of her face only to catch sight of the gleaming rock on her finger

“Rafe? What’s this?” She asked teasingly, rolling over to look at Rafe as he pulled on his shirt. He smiled cheekily, feigning ignorance.

“Hmmm… I don’t know anything about that, but it looks nice - don’t you think?” Rafe responded, matching her teasing tone. At the sight of a smile spreading across her face and a small ‘mmhmm’, Rafe couldn’t help but lean over the mattress, his arms caging her in. He placed a heady kiss on her lips, only drawing back once both were breathless.

“Are you gonna keep it on?” The blonde man asked, a hint of nervousness seeping through his voice.

“Of course I will, baby.”

rafe loves calling his girl his fiancée, so proud that he finally stepped up and showed her how much she means to him

he won’t tell her about his plans to kill his dad, but he’ll talk in vague terms to her about it. when she probes, he just tells her that this time it’s better if she doesn’t know

after rafe sends his dad to go on the plane, he returns to tannyhill. he had received his father’s blessing, and he was in charge of everything now. he feels like he has the entire world in the palm of his hands, and the perfect family by his side

his pretty fiancée waking him up a few weeks later with the sound of her vomiting in the ensuite, the second day in a row. she’s pale as she looks up at him, weakly resting her head against the wall as she asks him,

“What do you think about having another baby?”

Click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

Click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 4

Summary: Wanda and R have their first date ;)

Wanda: Sorry I missed you before you left for work. Wanna come over for dinner with us?

Y/N: Would love to :)

“You’re awfully cheerful for someone who just got dumped” Darcy says as you smile at your phone.

“Who got what?”

“Carol and Maria…”

“No one dump me, there was no relationship to end” you say, locking your phone. You have noticed that Carol has been avoiding you, which is pretty idiotic, considering a lot of the trauma cases that come your way are ortho related.

That would also explain why Kamala rambled so much every time you requested a consult, so you made a note to speak to Carol about it.

“So…” Darcy ponders, and you wish she’d just drop it. She snaps her fingers. “The hot mom!”

“Her name is Wanda, and we are just talking” you refuse to look at her, knowing she can smell the bullshit from miles away.

“Something tells me talking wasn’t the only thing you did with your mouths” she insists, pulling on your sleeve.

“Fine! We kissed and it was awesome! Happy, you little pestering gnome?”

“Yes, lesbian whore. Congrats on securing a ticket to MILF paradise”

“Fuck you”

“Doctor Y/L/N” Kamala enters the room as you give Darcy the middle finger. “I can come back! Sorry!”

“Look what you’ve done” you mumble as Darcy cackles. The joy doesn’t last long, as you steal her chips. She’s too distracted making fun of you to notice.

“Hey, not fair”

You close the door and go after the resident.

“Hey, Kamala”

“Oh, hi. Doctor Danvers asked me to show you some X-Rays”

“Tell Doctor Danvers to show me herself. Or better yet, I will go directly to her. Where can I find her, Doctor Kahn?”

“Uh… I…”

“Never mind, I’ll ask Maria” you turn to leave  and Kamala screeches in horror.

“OR 2. She’s in OR 2. Please don’t do it, my Baba will never forgive me if I get kicked out of the program” the young doctor clings to your arm.

“Kamala. Get it together. It’s gonna be fine. If Carol gets mad, you can be in my service for a week” you promise and she barely stops hyperventilating.

By the time you reach the OR, Carol is done with her surgery. She stops in her tracks when your eyes meet.

“Doctor Danvers, a word?” you ask, trying to sound professional.

“Of course” she nods. Leading you to an empty scrub room, Carol opens the door for you, fidgeting. “What’s up?”

“Stop making everything so awkward. I’m not mad at you. Kamala is about to have a stress induced stroke from all the consults you send her to avoid me”

“You’re really not mad?” Carol says.

“No! I never expected anything else from you. We didn’t talk about it but I always knew what your true feelings were”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be, honestly. Just, stop acting like you left me at the altar or some weird shit. We’re colleagues and friends”

“That makes me happy. I didn’t want to stop talking to you” she relaxes. “Though I have to be honest, I told Maria what happened between us”

“Is she mad?”

“Only a bit and just to me. I’ll manage to turn it around” the blonde smiles, a dreamy look on her eyes.

“If it helps, tell her I have a date on Thursday” you say, leaving the room, Carol right behind you.

“Oh, let me guess. The hot mom?” she jokes.

“Her name is Wanda!” you repeat.

“Well, let me know how the date goes?” Carol pats your shoulder, and you nod.

“Will do. Now page your resident and tell her we’re all set before she gets admitted to the Psych ward”

—

The footsteps approaching on the other side make your heart jump. You wonder if the flowers are too much, but when Wanda sees them, her face lights up and you know it was the right thing to do.

“Come on in” Wanda says, taking the flowers and then standing on her toes to kiss your cheek. “The boys are in the living room”

“Want some help with the food?”

“No, I’m almost done. It will be more helpful if you entertain the twins for a little” she says, pulling the flowers close to her chest.

“Alright, then” you’re about to kiss her when the boys walk in. They’re so excited to see you that they don’t notice how close you are to their mother.

“Y/N” Billy says, running towards you.

“Hey, kiddos” you pick them up, carrying them over your shoulder and they giggle. “Come on, there’s a new game I wanna show you”

You take your time to set everything up, explaining a bit about the game. They giggle as Crash jumps and turns in the sand of the first level, and you finish it all, including the tricky jump at the end.

“Who wants to go next?”

“Me” Tommy says, sitting next to you. They are both focused on the game, so you take advantage of the distraction to go see Wanda.

Sliding into the kitchen, you grab her by the waist.

“You scared me” she laughs, allowing you to press against her back, kissing her temple. “What’s going on?”

“I have approximately fifty seconds before they ask for my help so I’m making sure they count” you turn her around and lean forward, capturing her lips and sighing against her mouth. “You look very pretty”

“Thank you”

“You smell really nice” you add, kissing her again, making Wanda laugh. “And I really, really, like kissing you”

Wanda smiles at that, her hand caressing your cheek.

“Y/N!” the boys chant in unison.

“Like clockwork” you mutter, kissing Wanda’s forehead as you go back to the living room.

You spend a few more minutes playing with the kids, until Wanda calls everyone for dinner.

“How’s the arm, kiddo?” you say, sitting next to Billy with Tommy and Wanda in front of you. As you take a bite of the chicken, you notice a funny flavor. “Is this brocc…”

Wanda widens her eyes and kicks you under the table.

“Ouch”

“You ok?” Tommy asks, none the wiser.

“Yeah, I just bit my tongue” you lie, Wanda taking a sip of her water to hide her laugh.

“Kids, eat” she encourages them, and you get the hint. The flavor of the broccoli is hidden with the cheese, so you smile and continue to eat, enjoying every single bite.

“I’m on cleaning duty” you say as soon as everyone finishes, taking the dishes and cleaning the table.

Billy and Tommy run to the living room to continue playing, and as you get ready to wash the dishes, Wanda leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“It’s nice to have you here”

“You have an odd way of showing it, Miss Maximoff” you joke, leaning against her touch.

“In my defense, it’s the only way to get them to eat their greens” she jokes and you lean forward, your lips inches away from hers. In that precise moment, the boys call for her.

“Behave” she warns the children, pulling away to see what the fuss is about.

“Have you thought about boarding schools?” you joke and she pinches your side. “Ah, kidding! I would miss them too much”

You load the dishwasher, clean the pots and put the rest of the food on some containers. By the time you’re done, the kids are getting ready to go to bed.

“Can you come over again tomorrow?”

“If your mom wants me to, sure. I can bring the food this time so she takes a break from cooking” you offer, smiling at Wanda.

“We’ll see about that, Y/N works hard enough as it is. Say goodbye to her, boys”

Tommy and Billy wave at you, already dragging their feet. You stay on the living room, and a few minutes later Wanda comes down.

“Hi” she plops down next to you and you smile.

“All good?”

“A bit tired, that’s all. Just ignore me, you’re the one that works all those crazy hours”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’m used to it by now” you shrug your shoulders.

“Would you like some wine?”

“Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow”

“How come?” Wanda asks when she returns, handing you a glass of red wine and sitting closer to you on the couch.

“Well, I have a really hot date coming up and I need to plan every detail”

“She sounds like a lucky girl” Wanda blushes, biting her lip.

“Oh, I’m the lucky one” you say, placing both of your glasses on the coffee table. “She’s smart, funny, has legs for days, cooks amazing food…”

“Stop” she laughs, and you shake your head no. Wanda is still laughing when you connect your lips with hers, a sigh leaving her mouth when you lift her and place her on your lap, her legs straddling you.

“Is this ok?”

“Yeah” she nods, leaning her forehead against yours. “More than ok. As a matter of fact, I remember reading that kissing is good for your health”

“It’s so good” you say, your lips traveling to her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck. “I’d say do it as often as possible”

“Doctor’s orders?” Wanda jokes, her voice faltering as you come back to her mouth, your tongue swiping across her bottom lip.

“Doctor’s orders”

—

The plan is coming along. You have the tickets for the exhibit and the next thing on the list should be the dinner reservation. Your pager beeps the minute you call the restaurant. 

911.

“Shit” 

You sprint to the car, knowing no one would call you outside of work if it wasn’t serious. 

“What’s wrong?” you walk to the ER, looking around.

“What on Earth is this?” Tony Stark, neurosurgeon and professional asshole gets in your face the minute you get there.

“I don’t know, I’ve been off work since yesterday, Stark” you take the chart, reading all the information until you get to the signature. The writing got progressively worse, until it was just senseless lines.

“This person was clearly having a stroke, and the staff didn’t notice. I have to scrub in and see if I can save his life”

“And you’re wasting time arguing with me” you roll your eyes, pushing the chart to his chest and walking to the OR.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To scrub in. If you want to blame me, that’s fine. I’m staying by this patient’s side until he pulls through”

“If he pulls through” Stark says angrily and you ignore him. 

Before scrubbing in, you check your phone.

Wanda: Is everything ok? I saw you leaving in a hurry. 

“By all means, take your time” Stark says, glaring as he walks by you.

You spend the entire surgery in his OR, standing still and doing everything he asks. He’s a rude, pretentious cunt, but if anyone can work a miracle, it’s him, so you suck it up and take every snide comment with a blank stare.

After hours working, Tony sighs, nodding at his work. 

“Close him, Parker,” he asks his resident. You stand watching the young man’s work, until the surgeon asks you to come with him.

“I’m sorry” he blurts out the minute you step out. “This wasn’t your patient, nor your responsibility. And I made it seem like it was”

“It’s still not right. If I had been here, I would have noticed”

“I know. Your work is impeccable” he acknowledges and you nod. Even if he’s an ass, this is the hospital his father built, and he’s a genius with years ahead of you in experience.

“Will he be alright?”

“There’s a good chance he’ll pull through. Let’s be cautiously optimistic. I’ll let Parker explain everything to the family. Sorry for interrupting your days off”

“Not a problem” 

“It’s the first time you’ve taken PTO in 3 years. Fury’s gonna have my head for making you come” Tony says, laughing.

The patient is moved to the ICU, but you’re still not comfortable leaving, so you go back to the on-call room, sitting in a bed to gather your thoughts. Yelling in the hallway makes you stand up, watching as Parker tries to speak to a man and his wife. 

“You discharged him, said he was fine” the man yells, pointing at Peter’s face. 

“Sir, I can assure you, we’re doing our best to make sure your son…”

“We wanna see him now” the man takes Peter by his coat, almost lifting him off the ground. The young man stutters, not knowing how to deescalate the situation.

“Hey, that’s enough” you step in, not realizing the man is about to throw a punch until you make him drop Peter, his elbow connecting with your cheek.

“Crap, Doctor Y/L/N, are you ok?” Peter says, rushing to your side.

“Yeah, fine”

Fucking fantastic. 

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to wait in the foyer, or I’ll call security” Carol steps in, glaring at the man. She waits until he’s gone, muttering an apology your way. “You ok?”

“Mhm, great”

“I thought you had a few days off”

“Yeah, me too”

“Come on, let’s have a look at that punch” Carol says, dragging you to one of the exam rooms. You sigh, trying to keep your eye closed. “No stitches needed”

“Great” you mumble, pulling out your phone. There’s like five messages from Wanda but before you can answer, she calls you.

“Hey”

“Hey, are you ok? You had me worried”

“Yeah, there was a thing at the hospital and I… ouch! Carol, a little warning?” you hiss as the blonde pours some disinfectant on the bruised skin.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were busy” Wanda says, her demeanor changing. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait, Wanda!” you say but it’s too late, the call cut off. “God, could this day get any worse? I have to go”

“Want me to drive you there?” Carol says with a smile and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah. That will make Wanda so happy”

“Whipped” Carol jokes and you try to glare, but it hurts your eye.

Wanda barely put the kids to bed, when she hears a knock on the door. She’s prepared to give you an attitude but then sees your swollen cheek.

“Oh, my God, what happened to you, are you ok?” the brunette says, immediately forgetting she’s mad at you.

“It’s a long story. But that doesn’t matter. Listen, I know how it seems, I tell you I’m busy and when you call me I’m with Carol”

“I know you work together. It’s fine” Wanda lies.

“No, it’s not, come on”

“Ok, just come in and explain everything while I get you some ice, ok?”

“Thanks” you mutter, sitting at the kitchen counter. You fidget with your hands, not looking up until Wanda comes closer, her eyes soft as she moves the hair out of your face.

“Cold” she warns, placing a compress against your skin. You sigh with relief, holding her hand close.

“I’m sorry. I was called in to fix something I didn’t break”

“Don’t apologize for doing your job, Y/N” she says in a soft voice. “Is everyone ok? Is that how you got hurt?”

“Everyone’s ok. The parents were just pissed and I tried to break the fight”

“Does it hurt?” Wanda pulls the compress and examines the skin. It’s a little bruised, but not too swollen.

“It will later” you sigh.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You can kiss it better”

“Is that what Carol was doing earlier?” Wanda tilts her head, a dangerous look in her eyes that sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh, come on! Not fair!”

“I’m kidding” she says, finally kissing you softly. You close your eyes, relaxing for the first time in 12 hours. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time, you were saving lives”

“What you feel is valid. Don’t apologize for it, ok? I’ll always listen to you, I promise” you kiss her hand, smiling when she blushes. “We’re still up for our date, right?”

“We can reschedule, you must be exhausted”

“Not a chance” you say, pulling her closer again. “I’ve been waiting too long for this”

“Well, alright. If you insist” she pecks your lips and you nod.

“I do”

“I have an… odd request” she says, avoiding your eyes.

“I won’t kink shame you, I promise”

“Can you be serious for just a second?” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. You make a motion to keep quiet, and let her speak. “Can you… pick me up around the block?”

“I can. But why am I doing it?”

“First of all, if the kids see you, they’ll want to tag along. And also… I’m not trying to be pessimistic here, I just want to protect them. It’s been the three of us since they were born and I’ve never even dated anyone, let alone someone they know” she takes a deep breath, hoping you won’t get upset.

“Billy and Tommy come first, always” you nod. “I agree to the new rule, or I can wear glasses and a fake mustache”

“Nope” she shakes her head, covering your mouth with her hand.

“A bald cap then” you mumble against her palm.

She figures the only way to make it stop is by kissing you and she leans forward, her lips against yours. You smile dreamily as she pulls apart.

“Now. Would you like some dinner?” Wanda offers, and you almost drop to your knees.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, Wanda Maximoff”

The way she blushes and giggles makes up for all the shitty things that happened in the past hours.

—

“There’s food and snacks, a list of phone numbers on the fridge in case of an emergency”

“Yes, Mrs. Maximoff,” Morgan says, following the woman around the house. It’s her first time babysitting the twins, but Wanda has known the girl since she started giving her private art lessons and trusts her.

“Boys, I’m leaving” Wanda calls, the kids standing up from the table to hug their mom goodbye. “Be good to Morgan, ok?”

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.

“A work thing” she lies, feeling terrible about hiding the truth from the twins. But still, she knows it’s for the best to keep this private.

She waves goodbye one last time and walks past the house, noticing your car is no longer in the driveway. Her heart beats fast at the expectation of an evening together.

“Hey, gorgeous” you greet, leaning against the passenger door. “You look absolutely stunning”

You admire how amazing she looks in a pair of jeans, a white tee and a long sleeve sweater.

“So do you” she kisses you, smiling as you open the door to the car.

“Thanks, the purple eye gives my look a nice touch” you say as you begin the drive.

“Are you gonna tell me where we are going?”

“You’ll find out soon enough” you say, hoping she likes the surprise. “First stop” you announce, opening the car door for Wanda and looking at the building in front of you. 

“Artechouse. Oh, I’ve heard about this” Wanda nods, intrigued.

“I did too, but never made the time to go. Come on” you lead her to the entrance, showing your tickets. “There’s a small bar if you wanna have a drink before we go in” 

“Let’s go in now” she says, looking everywhere. 

You think it’s a good sign that she’s so interested in the exhibit, so you lead her to the start, both of you gasping as you enter a room that is projecting videos of flowers from floor to ceiling. Wanda’s hand searches yours in the dark, and you smile shyly as she holds it, walking around the room.

The intimacy of the place allows you to come closer, sharing everything you see in a low voice and enjoying the show. 

“Check this out” you say, lifting your arm, the animation following your movements. Wanda lets out a laugh, doing the same.

Each room enchants Wanda even more, the next installation featuring plants that react to the touch with light and sound. Your favorite by far is the tree that reacts differently if you’re holding hands or hugging. As you walk up to it, Wanda is still holding your hand and you both look at the screen. Well, she’s looking at the projection and you’re looking at her, thinking how beautiful she is. 

Taking a step forward, your arms go around her waist and you smile, admiring how the images change.

“It’s beautiful” Wanda whispers, turning to you. “You’re not looking” 

“I have the best view right in front of me” you smile, happy when she kisses you softly.

Wanda takes her time examining everything and once she’s done, you walk to the exit. 

“That was amazing. I forgot how much I enjoy these things. Thank you, Y/N”

“Glad you liked it” 

“Best first date I’ve had,” she smiles.

“Oh, this is only the first part. You don’t really think I’d forget about the food, right?” 

“Where are we going?”

“Well, there’s a very fancy option but I don’t feel like going with this thing on my face” you point at the bruise, annoyed. “If you’re feeling adventurous we could try something different?” 

“You look perfectly fine, darling” she kisses your cheek. “But I’m up for an adventure, so lead the way” 

“Awesome” you hold her hand, walking down the street and away from the museum. This is your favorite part of town, close to the pier and the little shops that are open until late. 

You walk down the promenade, showing Wanda some of the places you love. There’s a small gallery, a cafe, and other shops. 

“We’re here” you announce, pointing excitedly at the kebab shop. “This is fine, right? We can still go to the fancy place if you like”

“Sorry this place isn’t fancy enough for you, Majesty” the owner pops out of nowhere, scaring you.

“Samir! That’s not what I meant. You know I love your food”

“Mhm” he glares, but then smiles at Wanda. “What can I get for you, angel?”

“Well, what’s good here?” Wanda wonders, not as familiar with the dishes. “Maybe a shawarma” 

“How about a kebab box, fries to share and a doner” you suggest, “And her shawarma, of course” 

“That’s a lot of food” she protests and you shrug your shoulders.

“I’m always eating leftovers before I leave for work so it’s fine, babe” 

“Oh, well” she wants to scold you about your eating habits, but the pet name makes her dizzy. 

You pay and lead them to a small table outside, unaware of Wanda’s flustered state. You hand over a soda and open your can, taking a sip.

“We can go to other art shows whenever you want, you know? Even if I don’t understand anything, I do enjoy watching you” you smile, laughing as Wanda’s cheeks go red at the comment.

“I did enjoy it, thank you. You come here often?”

“I do, I love the food here. Samir noticed I came late because of my shifts and he always saved me some food. Nice fella” you turn to make sure he’s not listening. “But I promise I’ll take you to dinner to that other place when I don’t look like a raccoon”

“You don’t have to” 

“I kinda want to see you in a dress, all fancy like that time you left for another date” you smile at the memory of how beautiful she looked.

Wanda’s heart bursts with the way you look at her, complete adoration in your eyes. She’s almost left speechless, but her phone saves her. 

“It’s my brother” she apologizes, taking the call. “Hi, Pietro. No, I’m not with them. Because, I’m out. Of course with a babysitter, stupid” she rolls her eyes, and then switches to a language that you don’t understand, but sounds like Russian. You look at her in awe, until Samir calls for you to get the food. By the time you’re back at the table, Wanda already hung up.

“Sorry about that” 

“No, don’t worry. I guess I never asked, but are you Russian?”

“Sokovian” she corrects. “We moved to the States when Pietro and I were ten” 

“Wow. I never… you don’t even have an accent” 

“It slips up from time to time, especially if I’m angry or… flustered” Wanda says, and you almost choke on the food, thinking of all the ways you could make it come out. 

“Oh, well” you clear your throat. “Is your brother ok?”

“Yeah, he wanted to ask the boys something about video games that I don’t understand. I’m sure you would” 

“I don’t know, my knowledge is limited to things that existed when I was a kid. How’s the food?”

“Amazing. Wow” Wanda says, pleased with the flavor of the meat and how it compliments the rice and dips.

“See? We’re good enough for a first date” Samir shouts from the kitchen.

“Stop listening to our conversation” you shout back and he grumbles. Wanda smiles, thinking of something she’s wanted to ask for a while now.

“Do you ever visit your family?” 

“No, not really” you shake your head. “I pretty much left for college and never returned. Except this one Christmas, where I was feeling kind of lonely and tired. I just wanted to be home, but everything was so different, my half siblings were just too much to handle for anyone… and I didn’t even know what to do, no one bought me a present because I was never around and they just thought I’d be gone like last year”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked…”

“It’s fine” you shrug your shoulders. “I know it’s weird, but I like my life, you know? My colleagues are great, I’m doing what I love… and if I hadn’t moved here, I wouldn’t have met you”

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s their loss” Wanda smiles, kissing you. You smile against her lips. “You can always spend the holidays with us, you know? I mean, it’s too soon to talk about it, I’m just saying”

“That would be nice” you interrupt her rambling. “Now, I have something very important to ask. Out of all the neighbors, which one is the most annoying and why?”

“Well, I’d say it’s… Agatha”

“Harkness! Yes! I knew you disliked her too” 

Wanda laughs and you keep the conversation going. By the time you’re done, you pay and leave a big tip for Samir, who gives you a hug as you leave the store.

“I’m so full” Wanda says, patting her stomach. 

“I know. Oh, you want ice cream?” you say, remembering the gelato store that is a few shops ahead. 

“You just said you were full!”

“It’s ice cream, come on” you take her hand, and pay for two cones. Wanda orders strawberry while you opt for chocolate.

“How is it?” you ask as you walk down the pier, enjoying the view. 

“Amazing, have some” she offers the cone, but you kiss her instead. “That’s not what I meant” Wanda laughs against your lips.

“Well, it tastes amazing to me” you say, leaning forward and chasing after her soft lips, the flavor lingering as you deepen the kiss. Wanda sighs against your mouth, pulling you closer until your hand goes down her waist. “Best ice cream I’ve ever had” 

“Yeah” Wanda nods, her eyes closed. You peck her lips one last time, and continue your walk, still talking about everything you can think of, enjoying each other’s company.

When she checks the time more than once you get the hint, ready to go home.

“I’m sorry, I’m just being annoying, we can stay longer” 

“It’s ok, I know you like to be home early. Come on, we can drink wine or I’ll let you go to bed”

You rest your hand on Wanda’s leg for the entire ride home, unaware that your touch is making the woman restless. When you’re close to your house, you stop exactly where you picked Wanda up.

“I can just park at home, right? The boys are probably asleep”

“Yeah” Wanda nods, flustered. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when she moves forward, pulling you down for a rough kiss that takes your breath away. It’s a bit messy and desperate, and you ignore the strain of your seatbelt as Wanda pulls you closer to her, sighing against your mouth.

“You can’t park here!” an annoying person knocks on your window and you both break apart. “Oh, my! Wanda? Doctor Y/L/N?”

Damn it, it’s Agatha Harkness. Your nosy, annoying neighbor. Rolling down the window and smoothing your clothes, you smile at her.

“Hey, Miss Harkness. Sorry, I’ll move right now” 

“No, don’t worry” she gives you a sly smile. “Have a good night, you two love birds”

“Night, Agatha” Wanda says and you turn on the car, finally parking in your driveway.

“That was fun” you comment, opening the door for Wanda and crossing the street to walk her home.

“Yeah, just our luck” Wanda laughs, taking your hand. “Wanna come in? Or do you have to work tomorrow?”

“Not until Saturday. Come on” you let her lead you to her house, opening the door as quietly as possible. Wanda sees Morgan at the kitchen table, doing her homework.

“How did everything go?”

“Great, they went to sleep an hour ago” 

“Morgan Stark?” you greet, closing the door behind you. 

“You two know each other?” Wanda says.

“Yeah, my parents work at the hospital with Doctor Y/L/N” Morgan says, waving at you. “Nice to see you” 

“Did you drive here? Or want me to take you home?” 

“It’s fine, I drove here” she says, and you hand over some money before Wanda can pay her. 

“Drive safely, ok? Don’t want your dad giving me crap on the next meeting”

“Will do. Good night, Miss Maximoff”

“Night, Morgan”

“You didn’t have to pay for that too” Wanda says, kissing you. “But thank you” 

“Anytime. How do you know Morgan?” you nod when she offers you a glass of wine and you walk to the living room with her.

“I’m giving her private art lessons. She’s really good. Had no idea her parents were doctors”

“Not just any doctors, baby” you say, taking a sip. “Tony’s father built the hospital we work in. And he’s done some amazing research in neurosurgery. Pepper is also one of the best plastic surgeons in the world” 

“Wow, Morgan is so sweet and down to Earth”

“She gets that from her mom, Tony can be an ass” you mutter and Wanda laughs. “So, did I secure a second date?”

“A third one as well. But only if I can pay for the next one”

“Nu-uh. I’m spoiling you, baby” you say, your hand going to her leg. You notice how Wanda’s cheeks turn red, and you’re not sure if it’s the nickname or the contact. “Come here”

You take her glass of wine, approaching her slowly and kissing her. It’s tender at first, but then your hands travel to her lower back, and Wanda moans against your mouth. You deepen the kiss, sighing when she pushes you on your back, climbing on top of you.

Wanda kisses down your neck, biting slightly. The sudden nip makes your hips jolt forward, and she has to hold back another moan.

“I don’t know how you do it” she says, shivering when your hands travel down and cup her ass through her jeans.

“Do what, baby?”

“Drive me crazy with just one touch”

“Let me take care of you” you ask, kissing her, your hands going all the way to the front of her pants.

“Mom?”

“Shit” she mutters, both of her hands covering your mouth. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“I’m thirsty,” Tommy says.

“Alright, don’t come down, I’ll be right there, ok?” she says, hoping the boy hasn’t noticed anything strange. But he’s too sleepy so he just agrees and returns to his room. “I’m sorry”

She removes her hands from your mouth, helping you up.

“It’s fine, I enjoy the choking but just give me a heads up”

“Stop” she says, blushing. “I’ll be right back. Unless, you want to go? I’m sorry”

“I can stay” you nod, smiling at her disheveled state.

“Alright, I’ll be back” Wanda promises, pecking your lips.

You sit up, fixing your hair and taking a sip of the wine to calm down.

“Everything ok?” you say as Wanda comes down. She nods, smiling and sitting next to you.

“Yeah, I just didn’t think they’d be up. Maybe… we could wait a bit? When I’m not worried about the boys walking in on anything”

“Of course. Come here” you open your arms, and she settles, leaning her head against your shoulder. You kiss her temple. “Wanna watch some tv?”

“What about a sitcom? I love watching those”

“Like Friends?”

“Like Bewitched or… The Dick Van Dyke show” she says and you laugh, completely caught off guard by the suggestion.

“You’re fascinating, Wanda Maximoff” you say, handing over the remote, ready to watch whatever she wants.

[moonlightcycle571]

The Cons of being Omni-lingual

I made a post about the pros of being omni lingual. Did you really think I would make fluff without making any angst? *insert evil laugh*

As established, Cap can speak any language and knows what’s your Native tongue. Cool right? Wrong.

There’s a reason he hates speaking Themesquiran. Wonder Woman was NOT the first Amazonian he ever met. No, the first time he met one of the warrior women, it was when he was doing a sort of quest as part of his Champion duties where he met an Amazonian away from home. Seeing that she wasn’t affected by All Speak (a type of magic that lets magical or magical adjacent speak in accordance to their environment), he decides to speak Themesquiran. It does not go well. Gets insulted, accused of many things, immediate battle that he doesn’t want to be in. It’s all around not a good thing for him.

So no Diana, he will not be speaking that language, he knows it’s a trap (the last Amazonian said it was OK, but then threw an axe at his head out of reflex)

A very similar experience happened with the Valkery.

Another thing is the suspicion. Sure most of the time, it evaporates after you get to meet him, but it still hurts. What; you think Waller will think ✨magic✨ is a good enough explanation, and not try to pry into his life? Or try to exploit this other facette of him?

It gets especially rough when people don’t take it well. His a big buff white guy, so sometimes speaking more obscure language, or even any non European language, is at best seen as a parlour trick, at worst seen as an insult (how dare he defile our sacred language with his ‘dark arts’).

Another thing to note is that Billy started young. In some iterations, he started at age 8 and joins the JL at 10. So when he hears people curse him under their breath, or even to his face, in another language… he knows. He knows most people don’t think is human, and sometimes doesn’t treat him like one (it doesn’t hurt, really). He knows exactly what people say about him (be it his Cap form or Billy form). And maybe calling them out will make them worse. He’s already been called a freak enough times by his uncle and various foster families, he doesn’t need more

Maybe sometimes he would get captivated by languages long gone, and have access to tidbits of their history, but not have anyone to talk to about it. How many of the languages were forgotten and changed over time, and how many were forcibly destroyed? Would he mourn a civilisation he never knew? Was it even human? The day he found out one of his favourite obscure languages was Kryptonian, his powers opened up a bit, to see what the civilisation was like, and how it ended. He mourns in private and never tells a soul. Cap is not Kryptonian or ever been to Krypton, he has no right to openly mourn. If Supergirl noticed something different in her and Caps hang outs, she says nothing

The worst is when he forgets a word. It happens to everyone, and maybe he was in a place that makes magic glitch. It doesn’t matter. As soon as he finished the mission, he rushes back to the rock to make sure he knows EVERY language. He not forgetting, no, he refuses to forget any language. Especially since for a lot of them, he’s the only one that still remembers them (he may not know the context or culture, but at least he can keep something alive).

[vrystalius]

Hello so i have been craving angst then fluff so can you write scenarios with the uppermoons x reader, after a huge argument that ended up with the reader walking away from the fight then locking herself in their shared bedroom,and when they come back after duties they find out that she cried herself to sleep with her tear stained and red cheeks, she wakes up and they make up then cuddle (The argument is huge but they are both at fault and they are both right it's just different point of view since they are demons and she is a human).

Arguments with the Upper moons

You and your s/o had a huge argument wich caused you to leave and later cry yourself to sleep. How will they react?

Pairing: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Gyutaro x reader

(Gyutaro doing his usual scratching on himself in his part, toxic-ish relationship in his part as well, angst in every part)

Kokushibo

Your arguments are mostly about how emotionally unavailable he is and how much Kokushibo refuses to speak about his feelings. He never elaborates on what he is thinking right now or what he truly thinks of you, this relationship and his feelings for you. You know that Kokushibo is mediating when he is not training, meaning he has plenty of time to think. Why is he never sharing his feelings? You always voice out loud how much you appreciate and love your husband, but he never tells you the same things. Only occasional dry “I love you’s” and some “I appreciate your presence’s”.

You try to tell Kokushibo about how you want to hear more from him and what he truly thinks of you. Sometimes, you feel like he doesn’t love you at all with the way he acts so coldly around you.

Kokushibo’s voice is stern and condescending while arguing with you. He only states the most obvious things and still doesn’t admit his true feelings towards you. This makes your heart ache even more than before. Seeing the tears form in the corners of your eyes made him scoff quietly.

“Why are you crying now? Did I hurt your “feelings”?”

That last comment made a wave of nausea wash over your whole body. Before you let yourself throw up onto his feet, you quickly rushed into your shared bedroom to hide your crying face.

You ignored Kokushibo’s demands to open up the bedroom door for almost one hour until Muzan finally ordered a meeting with him. Tears continue to stream down your face as you curled up into a small ball below the sheets. Your bed felt eerily empty without your husband beside you, but right now, you don’t want him here. You didn’t know exactly when you fell asleep, but you woke up by cold fingers brushing against your now dry cheeks.

After you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Kokushibo kneeling beside you and gently caressing your cheeks. His bottom and upper eyes were closed. It was his unique way to show that he feels safe and relaxed around you. You noticed the soft look in his eyes and the gentleness in his touch.

“I… I should apologise for my words I spoke to you earlier. I did not mean to hurt you in any way.”

Kokushibo’s voice was deep and soothing. You could hear how hesitant he was about speaking like this. He barely ever shows his vulnerable side to you and insists to keep his guard up at all times. That is one of the many things why you two argue so much. He spend the last 500 years to perfect his fighting style and whole being. Even during his human years he forgot his own humanity, but around you, his emotions try to resurface. Your influence and affection make him softer, and in his opinion, weak. He does not want you to see him as weak, but that he is strong, powerful and a perfect being.

“Could you forgive me for acting so harshly? I do truly love you and I’d like to prove it to you.”

Douma

Douma’s lack of understanding of emotions cause a lot of arguments between you two. He continues to dismiss your feelings as just some silly moods you tend to have and never takes them seriously. Douma is listening to his follower’s woes all day every day, but he does not really pay attention to their words. He mostly zones out and then offers some loose advice based on some words he picked up while they continue to talk and talk and talk. He does the same thing with you.

When you try to tell him that you don’t like it when Douma has his meals in your shared bedroom and leaves behind a bloody mess and even some bodyparts. It’s disgusting, especially to you, who is a human. But all he hears is that he should send in a follower to clean your chambers after his meals. This was not the problem you were trying to solve, you were trying to tell him that you don’t like it when Douma eats humans in your bedroom, yet he doesn’t listen.

That isn’t even the most infuriating part. Besides him not listening to your thoughts, he sometimes mocks you for feeling emotional about it. It may be unintentional, but when you start crying during an argument, Douma sometimes giggles at your expression. It’s humiliating how hilarious he finds your crying face and in return it made you incredibly mad at him. Wich also makes him grin.

Yes, Douma may not grasp the concept of emotions, but you wished that he doesn’t dismiss them that easily.

During one of your arguments, you were trying to tell him about how you didn’t like how he disregards your emotions so easily.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do? You’re a silly human after all, your emotions are very entertaining to me!”

After Douma finished his sentence, you slapped your hand across his face as hard as you could. You knew that he will barely even feel it tickle his skin, but you wanted to demonstrate how infuriated you are with him. While your husband was trying to understand what exactly just happened to him, you already stormed off to your shared bedroom and made sure to properly lock the door. Additionally, you opened the blinds all the way and let the sun in to make sure that damn demon stays away from you for the time being. You cannot stand to see his smirking face right now.

You didn’t even notice that you started crying. There was only hoping that Douma didn’t see your tears running down your cheeks, or else he will mock you about those too, just like he does with every other emotion you have.

You fell asleep while watching the sun disappear behind the mountains and with a pillow between your arms. Long after you fell asleep, someone started slipping the pillow out of your arms and sneakily replaced it with their own body. You tried to escape out of Douma’s arms, but his grip was tighter. His face was uncharacteristically and eerily neutral, not showing any emotions right now.

“I don’t really get emotions, you know? They’re always been foreign to me.”

His voice sounded distant and detached. Who is this man that is cuddling you right now? You kept staring at his face while he spoke.

“I never really felt them. They just weren’t there then I was born. I saw them on other people’s faces and had to learn manually what they meant.”

Douma’s cold fingers slowly brushed through your hair as he leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead. He remained in this position while he continued to speak.

“I’m sorry if I insulted you. I never meant it. You just confuse me with your emotions sometimes, but you also…kind of… make me imagine? I’m not sure. Perhaps I’m trying to talk myself into feeling something, but when you’re around me, I feel something close to happiness. Or whatever that emotion is that I’m feeling.”

His eyes soften up slightly while speaking. You can’t help but smile a little at his words.

“But hey, you stopped resisting my cuddles~ does that mean I’m allowed back into bed? Would you be a sweetheart and close the blinds? You don’t wanna wake up next to a pile of ash, right?”

Akaza

“Stop worrying” and “toughen up” are things you hear almost every day from Akaza. He hates the weak and any sign of weakness, and since you are a human, weakness and vulnerability is a rather big part of you when you compare yourself to a demon like him. You can’t help but not being able to ignore the look he gives you everytime you either hesitate about something or try to explain your feelings to him. His eyebrows furrow together and his eyes have this look of disdain in them. His jaw clenches and you can see the veins pop out a little. That look alone, intentional or not, makes you shut up quickly.

You never heard him say “I love you” to you before, ever. You tried asking him about it but all that resulted in him coming up with some weak excuse. All you wanted is for Akaza to tell you if he does really love or if he is just staying by your side for his own entertainment or pleasure. You just want him to say “I love you” at least once and admit his feelings to you, but he stubbornly refuses.

Akaza was trying to contain his anger inside him while you were talking about exactly that. His fists were clenched and his eyes were glued to a spot on the floor. Until suddenly, he slammed his fist against the wall, shattering the wood beneath it, making you jump away.

“Why do you have to be so weak? All this crying and fucking feelings, they make you fucking pathetic and weak. I’m trying to protect you and you’re too blind to see it. I’m starting to think that protecting you was a waste of my time after all.”

Those words shattered your heart in an instant. Maybe he was right. Maybe you are just a waste of time to him, he has better things to do after all. He wants to become the strongest demon after all. This is the end of you two, isn’t it? You didn’t want Akaza to see your crying face and think even less of you, if that’s even possible, so you ran away into your bedroom and hid beneath the covers as if those will shield you from him and the rest of the world around you.

Tears ran down your face silently while you slowly fell asleep, but you woke up rapidly when you felt strong arms wrap incredibly tight around you. Your heart almost stopped in fear when you felt the familiar aura tightly pressing up against you, but you couldn’t help but begin to melt into his arms.

Akaza never was good with words. The words he uses are mostly intentionally and unintentionally used go hurt others, wich includes you. You felt how he buried his face into your neck and silently savoured your smell. His rough palms were gently rubbing up and down your waist, almost a little desperate to feel your skin again. He lifted his face from your neck and rested it right beside your head. His thick fingers carefully brushed through your hair.

“I should say it. You deserve it.”

You turned your head over to face him. You noticed freshly healed skin on his knuckles and all over his hands, leaving little room to guess what exactly he was doing while you slept. A nervous frown started appeared on his face. Akaza took a very deep breath before you listened to his shaky voice.

“I like you. A-A lot. Lots. Well, I-I really… uhm… Love you…I love you.”

Gyutaro

He always has been jealous, and always will be. Gyutato fears that you are going to leave him at any time and any day. That makes him incredibly clingy and protective of you and he refuses to leave your side, ever. He follows you around everywhere and tries to hover around you at all possible times. You had to convince that demon that you are perfectly capable to use the bathroom on your own without him needing yo stand right beside you. But after you finished up and left, you found Gyutaro crouched down beside the bathroom door, waiting and listening in case something somehow happens to you.

It’s incredibly tiring to have to be so careful around him. You fear that if you stray too far from him or disappear from his sight for too long that Gyutaro might start either slashing humans out of frustration or start scratching himself again. It’s mentally extremely weighing onto you. You tried to tell Daki about her brother and how stressed he’s making you feel, but she obviously takes Gyutaro’s side and shifts the issue back onto you.

“Well have you ever considered that my brother is just being very loving, hm? You better appreciate it you ungrateful human.”

Daki’s words did certainly not help you feel any better. She of course told her brother about you confiding in her, wich made Gyutaro almost seethe in jealousy and anger. That same night, you two had the worst argument yet.

You tried to tell him how suffocating he is while he is accusing you of not loving such a like creature like him. Your attempts at telling him how much you actually love and cherish him failed.

"No matter what you say or do, I-I’ll never be good enough for you...! You’re just pr-pretending to love me because you feel sorry for me…Deep down, you think I’m ugly, dirty and disgusting…”

The gut-wrenching sound of Gyutaro scratching his own skin open filled the silence as you stared at him. Gods, you had enough. You’re too exhausted to fight against his insecurities right now, so instead of continuing this useless argument, you stormed off into your private bedroom. After turning your back to him, you heard his nails tear through his own flesh and bones incredibly slowly and agonisingly.

You laid down on top of your large bed and faced away from the door, trying not to think about his words or the sound of Gyutaro’s blood gushing out of his flesh wounds. You were so concentrated on trying to think about anything else that you didn’t notice how you slipped into a deep slumber. You only woke up to the sound of bones cracking and crushing together.

Lifting your head, you scanned the space on the bed beside you. Empty. As you sat upright, you managed to glance over the edge of the bed, spotting Gyutaro being curled together on the floor. He looked like a very unnaturally bend puppy that wasn’t allowed to sleep on the bed. After calling out to him, he silently lifted his head to look at you.

Even looking at him caused a wave of nausea and guilt wash over you. Not a single inch of his skin was left unharmed by his own doing, and he seemingly refused to let them heal. His blood started to soak the carpet beneath him. Gyutaro slowly started to sit back upright, his spine cracking and breaking.

“Mh… mrrm.. am I-I allowed.. to la-lay beside you?”

💠

This took me multiple days to write so it may feel a little off. I loved writing this so much!! I always read the comments and reblogs, so don’t be shy to leave any! I appreciate every single one of you and the love you leave behind on my posts <3 I am currently working through my inbox, so expect more asks to be published over the week.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[writingsbychlo]

KNOW YOU LIKE I DO | tom riddle

summary; love letters are tom's way of communicating. unfortunately, he's not as good with his actions.

word count; 7036

notes; another one that I said was gonna be short and it wasn’t. I think I’m physically incapable of writing short fics, actually.

Dear Tom,

Tommy. 

My Tom. 

Do you still have that first letter I wrote to you, back in summer? No, I suppose you don’t, that’s not very like you. 

I’m drunk. Just a little bit (a lot), and I can’t take it anymore. Mattheo told me to tell you how I feel, and that is exactly what I’m going to do. He’s asleep on my bed right now, drooling into my favourite pillow waiting for me to write this. 

So here it is. 

I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m confused. I’m in love. And it’s all your fault.

Staring across the crowded room, your eyes fixed back onto that of Tom Riddle. It wasn’t hard to spot him, not as he was the only man who came to a Christmas party dressed in all black and sat alone, brooding. His lips were pressed into a line, the lights bouncing off of those shiny curls, green and red splashed across his pale skin as he sipped at his drink, listening to the conversation Draco and Blaise were having, but never participating. 

Your heart lurched a little in your chest, just the mere sight of him had a thousand different feelings rearing their heads, and you sighed to yourself. Shaking your head, your attention was redirected to the drinks table, pouring yourself an extra strong helping of Giggle Gin and topping it off. The urge to look back over was strong, and you steadfastly ignored it, suppressing the urge and instead, turning your back to his direction, walking towards the group of girls giggling in the opposite corner. 

Taking your seat back in the comfy corner of the sofa, Pansy offered you a smile, her arm looped over Luna’s shoulders as the blonde cuddled into her side. Astoria was currently recounting the intimate details of her latest night with Draco, and you hid a smile in your cup as you tuned back into the conversation. 

You lost the battle with your will, however, gaze moving directly back across the room to Tom. He had a slight smirk on his face now as he watched Draco speak, and you did not doubt that he was receiving a tale of the exact same encounter Astoria was currently telling, only from a different point of view. 

Blonde cut across your vision, the perfect smile of Daphne blocking your view as she sat in front of you, severing any sights of Tom you might have had. “You know,” She started, grinning as she took a sip of your drink cheekily, before handing it back. “If you stare at him any harder, you’re gonna’ drill holes in the side of his head.”

You could only scoff, but no argument formed. Lately, all you’d been able to do was stare longingly at him across any room. You weren’t subtle, and you’d never been much good at hiding your feelings. Which seemed fitting, since you’d fallen for someone who was like a blank slate, permanently. 

Tom Riddle was a harder book to read than a tablet written in a never-before-discovered language. 

“He looks so… miserable, Daph.”

She glances over her shoulder at him, snorting a laugh, and turning her attention back to you. “Because Tom Riddle doesn’t go to parties, and he’s probably counting the minutes until he can leave.” She smirked a little, shuffling closer, perched on the edge of her seat as she leaned in, “At least, he didn’t go to parties. Until you, that is.”

Your cheeks flushed, a subtle hint at the running joke your friendship group had taken on. They’d all become convinced that Tom attended parties for you, ever since he’d been a willing guest for the first time at Draco’s end-of-summer bonfire bash, and spent the majority of the night talking with you. They refused to let it go. 

“You should go over there and cheer him up. I bet he’d be smiling in no time if you gave him a little attention.”

That was exactly the problem. You’d been giving him a little too much attention, and now, everyone was painfully aware of your feelings for him. Except for him, maybe. Either that, or he was just very good at pretending he didn’t notice, in a chance to let you down gently. You didn’t know which option was worse. “Don’t be ridiculous, Daph.”

“No, you don’t be ridiculous! You and him are… something else.” She took your free hand in hers, squeezing tightly. All amusement melted from her face, and she gave you a serious look. The expression she wore when advising her sister on Draco, or comforting Pansy after a panic attack. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened over the summer, or are you just going to keep acting like it wasn’t some cataclysmic shift?”

“So dramatic.” You hummed to your roommate.

“Still pretending, I see.” She teases lightly, but her brows are still furrowed. She waited a few more seconds, to see if you’ll crack. All you do is hold her steady gaze, and take a sip of your drink. With a sigh, she released your hand, and leans back in her chair. “Well, whatever. We can all see it, see how you two pine for one another, and how perfect you’d be together. Just go and talk to him! He’s probably sat over there waiting for you anyway. He had that exact same kicked-puppy expression on at the summer party, until you walked in.”

“He did not…” You murmur, the very thought making you blush. 

“I think that’s the first time I ever saw Tom Riddle smile. A real smile, not the smile he gets when threatening someone, or when Mattheo falls over. A good smile.” 

“Now you’re just making him out like some kind of sulky villain.” You retort, and she only raises a brow at you.

“Here, take him this box, and go talk to him. The poor boy looks lost over there without you.” Reaching under her chair, Daphne produces a familiar box, wrapped neatly in black paper with dark green ribbon, and your jaw drops. 

“Daphne!—” Reaching out to snatch it from her, your brows furrow. “Did you go through my things?”

“I didn’t exactly go through your things,” She grins, watching you turn over the label with his name written on neatly. “I just watched you hide it under your bed and got curious… it smells good. Is it cookies? Can I have one?”

When she reaches for the box, you slap the back of her hand, and she sticks her tongue out at you in return. “No! You cannot, you little snoop!”

“Fine! If you won’t let me have a cookie, then you have to go over there. You either give me a cookie, or you give me the satisfaction of seeing you and him smile.” Her arms crossed, her tone annoyed but her words caring, and love shone in her gaze as she stared at you. “Go on. Go over to him. Please.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t already want to, and with her encouragement, you were a weak woman to say no. Downing the rest of your drink for a little liquid courage, you hop to your feet, present clutched in your hands.

Weaving through the room, the bass notes of Mattheo’s custom-made playlist pumped through the room from the speakers, a playlist you might have slightly altered a few days ago to add a couple of songs, just to mix up his usual tastes. Your stomach was twisting nervously, but the alcohol in your veins made for a pleasant buzz as the distance between you both closed. 

After almost taking a ping-pong ball to the eye, courtesy of Theo on the beer-pong table, you cleared the games and settled into the pleasant atmosphere surrounding where the boys had set themselves up for the evening by the fire. When you approached, Tom looked up, frown melting away as the crease between his brows disappeared, and he sat up a little straighter as you approached. 

“Hi, doll,” He murmured, shifting his arm from the armrest of the chair, so that you could take a seat on it instead. That same arm soon wrapped around your waist, his head falling to rest on your shoulder, and your heart skipped a beat within your chest. “Where’ve you been?”

“Over there, with Daph and the girls.” You whisper in reply, balancing the box on your thighs, and pointing through the crowds to the barely visible patch of chairs and sofas you’d all been occupying. He only hummed, squeezing you a little closer. 

“Stay here with me for a while?”

“Sure,” Your voice hardly worked as you spoke, emotions clogging up, and you reached for the gift in your lap. “I have this for you, anyway. I made you those cookies you like so much.”

“You did?” His head lifted, and one of those pretty smiles that made your heart stop clean in your chest was adorning his lips. “The ones with the orange peel and the dark chocolate?”

“Those very ones.” You handed it to him, and he tugged at the ribbon covering the box, fingers flipping under the seals of the paper until it fell openly neatly. Flicking open the catch on the cardboard box, the smell of freshly baked treats filled the air, and he made a rumbling noise of happiness as he plucked on up, and took a bite. As you laughed at him, he took another, pushing it between your lips with a smirk while he chewed. 

He resealed the box, savouring them, as he did all things, and putting them on the table in front of himself. You held the cookie now, eating it slowly, as Draco and Blaise finally seemed to become aware of your presence. 

“I have a question.” Draco started, and your gaze moved to him, brow raising as you took the final bite. “Is Astoria over there talking about me?”

The blond smirked, and you twisted, lifting your legs to sit over Tom, ankles crossing on the opposite arm. “No, no. She’s been recounting a scene from a book.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You know, the fun books. It was really, really hot.” You teased, fanning yourself, and Tom chuckled, reaching over you for his drink, and taking a sip. Instead of putting it back down, he rested the cool glass on your thigh, his free hand coming to sit on your calf, rubbing lightly as you shivered at the touch. “Why? You think you’re better than a good spicy romance?”

“I know I am!” Draco huffed, and Blaise rolled his eyes, watching you wind his best friend up with barely a few words at all. “What book is this?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know…”

“I do want to know! Tell me!” His cheeks were turning pink, all the way up to the tips of his ears. In the spirit of Christmas, you took pity on him, rolling your eyes. 

“I think it was called… Astoria’s Diary.” 

It took a few seconds for it to register in Draco’s mind, and the furious pink turned to an embarrassed red, and he shook his head, eyes narrowed at you. “I despise you.”

“You love me.” You fired back, and he scoffed, but the edges of his lips pulled at a smile, and he looked away to cover it. Settling back a little more, you leaned into the cushion, feeling Tom roll his head across the cushion to lean in your direction. 

“I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week.” He says, voice low for only you to hear, and your head twists towards him You were close, close enough to pick out the different coloured flecks of colour in his eyes as he looked at you, and the hardly visible steaks of lighter brown that trailed naturally through his dark curls.

“Well, I’ve had detention all week, thanks to a certain someone.” You poked his chest, and he only smirked a little bit, shuffling his head a fraction closer. 

“I needed you, what can I say?”

“You needed someone to keep a lookout while you snuck into the restricted section again. Why did it have to be me?” You scoffed, working to keep the smile on your face as the answer to your own question flickered through your mind. He chose you because he knew you’d drop everything and come, the voice taunted; you buried it under the song playing and the laughter in the room so you didn’t have to think about it...

“Don’t act like you didn’t have fun when we ran.” He chuckled, hand sliding up your leg again, fingers lacing with your own. The same way they had when you’d been caught, and he’d grabbed your hand, the two of you ducking and weaving between stacks, fleeing through the corridors. Laughing and out of breath, he’d clutched your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles just like he was doing now, staring at you with those pretty eyes.

You hadn't been caught, but you had gotten detention for skipping class to go with him, and so you’d spent all five nights of your final week in detention, writing lines. You lifted your free hand, sighing with a nod, and running it through his curls. His eyes fluttered, head tipping back to follow your hand, and a content smile took over his lips. 

You loved to see him like this, to see him so carefree and happy, to see him relax at just your touch. You’d never seen him like this before. The thought that only you could do it to him sent a thrill down your spine, made your thoughts feel hazy and slow, like treacle in your mind, and your nerves tingled. So, why had he never made a move to make it anything more? You’d given him a dozen chances, a dozen more opportunities…

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you this holiday.” He broke your train of thought, eyes opening again to peer up at you, and his lips became a frown as he thought about it. “My father is going to pile on the pressure not that I’m in my graduating year. I can already feel the headache forming right between my eyes.”

“Oh..” You coo, hand slipping down from his hair to rub your thumb over his forehead, the space you know him to get stress headaches the worst, when he works too hard or gets wound up. He just chuckled, eyes sliding shut once again. 

The song changed, and his body tensed underneath you for just a second, before his eyes snapped open, gaze locked on you. “This is my favourite song.”

“Is it?” You mumble, finger still tracing lightly over his skin, and he nods.

“I didn’t think Mattheo put it on the playlist. I asked him, and he very emphatically said no.” 

“Maybe he changed his mind.” Your shrug doesn’t convince him, not as you both hear Mattheo question the song with a stream of curses somewhere in the distance. His lips twitched at the edges, a small smile, but he said nothing else. Instead, he leaned in, your arm going around his shoulders, rubbing softly as his head nestled onto your shoulder, a sigh on his lips. 

It was perfect, just like this. If he could just open his eyes and see, he’d know how wonderful it could be. Nobody knew him like you did, he’d made sure to keep his secrets locked up tight. But over the months of exchanging letters, and candle-lit nights in the library, he’d bore so much of his soul to you. 

Deep, wounded parts, that you’d tried to put back together. 

Soft, tender parts that he protected so valiantly, but trusted you with. 

Sweet, loving parts, that never saw the light of day, unless you were together.

It was impossible, surely, that he didn’t know. He might keep his feelings locked up tight, but you didn’t hide yours very well at all. As you sat here now, fingers weaving through his hair, lips tracing his temple as you whispered nonsense to him about your day, his head on your shoulder, that he didn’t know. Even a man like Tom Riddle couldn't miss it, right?

You just wanted to make him happy, but he didn’t feel the same. 

With a heart-aching sigh, you ran your fingers through his curls one more time. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your night. Unrequited love wasn’t going to ruin your Christmas. You would not be one of those girls who gave in to their feelings, and crumbled at the feet of a man who didn’t return her affections. 

Sitting up some more, he grumbled at the disruption, blinking his eyes back open as he lifted his head again. “I’m… I’m going to go dance, and play some games, okay?”

“Alright,” He smiled, patting your thigh and lifting his drink away. “Have fun. I’ll probably leave soon. If I don’t see you again, just know I’ll be thinking of you over these holidays. We’ll write again.”

His words send a rush of heat to your cheeks, a tumble of nerves through your stomach, and you could only nod. One more chance, one more chance to make a move…

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. A kiss that was purposefully close to the edge of his mouth, a kiss that purposefully lingered just a second too long as you pulled away slowly, giving him a chance to turn his head, to close the gap, to kiss you—

But he didn’t, he only smiled. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

So, you stand. You brush it off. You brush off the moment, and the feelings, and all the disappointment and heartbreak that came with it. 

But I can’t do it anymore. 

We’ve been housemates for seven years, we’ve been friends for half of those, and I’ve been in love with you for months. 

But you don’t love me. Mattheo says you do, says you’re just stupid when it comes to feelings. But, even you couldn't miss how I feel about you.

So, I’m letting you go. 

New Year, New Me, New Heart.

“No, your dorm is that way.” You giggle, Mattheo’s arm over your shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the boy’s dorms and pointing. “My dorm is this way!”

“No, you’re wrong!” He mutters, shaking his head dramatically. “Boys to the left,” He says, pointing right, “Girls to the right, because girls are always right!”

“Well, I won’t argue with you there.” You grin, spinning him around. “Wait, now I’m confused. Who’s dorm were we going to again?”

A few too many shots, a few more drinks than your limit at the beer-pong table, and as the last of the party was dying down, you and Mattheo were attempting to stumble back to your dorms. “Theo’s.”

“Right. But why are we going to Theo’s dorm?”

“Because he’s my friend,” Mattheo said. “And also, his bed is next to mine.” Another fit of laughter, drunken giggles melting away, and the two of you collapsed down against the wall, heads tipped back to the stone as amusement took over. When you finally caught your breaths once again, he was smiling, eyes sparkling in that unique Matty-way. Kicking his legs out before himself, he sighed. “Maybe I will just sleep here.”

“You can’t sleep here.”

“Why?” He pouted, and you searched through your foggy mind for a reason. 

“Because you have to sleep in a bed.” Is what you settled on, shrugging your shoulders, even if you were getting a little bit too comfy against the stone too. 

“Can I sleep in your bed?” He wiggled his brows, smirking, before burping, and you giggled again. 

“No, you may not.”

“Why?” He whined, kicking one leg like a toddler in a tantrum. “You have fluffy pillows.”

“And you have sheets that haven’t been washed in months.” Your nose screwed up, and he let out a dramatic, wounded sound, like a soldier who had just been shot in a war movie. 

“That was cold.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Not as cold as the frozen Earth Tom would bury my wee little body in if I spent the night at your dorm.”

You didn’t respond, the mention of his name was like a bucket of ice over your head. Not exactly sobering, but shocking. 

“I’m saying he would murder me.”

“Yes, I understood.”

“You didn’t laugh.” He pouted, and you chuckled for his benefit. “No, it’s not real. Now I feel like I begged for it.”

“You did.”

“You suck.”

“You swallow.” You sighed, and he groaned once again, another argument lost. His head rolled to your shoulder, his body slumping into relaxation. 

“So… what is the deal with you and my brother?” His lips twisted as he thought about it, but he looked up at you curiously, frown only deepening at the sad look on your face. 

“There is no deal.” You shrug, “He doesn’t want me like that. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah,” He snorts, “And the sky isn’t blue.”

“I’m serious, Matty. I’ve given him a hundred chances. He could’ve made a move anytime. I haven’t exactly kept my feelings to myself, all you fools can see my heart dripping and bleeding on my sleeve. He knows, he just didn’t want to acknowledge it.” Your lungs burned for air at the end of your speech, and you took a deep breath, staring ahead at the chipping bricks in an attempt to avoid tears. “Why doesn’t he want me, Matty?”

“He does,” Mattheo mumbled, taking your hand in his and squeezing. “He’s just a fucking moron. But, he’s also scared. You know, you’re pretty much all he talks about? And, I never saw him smile so much as he did during the summer, when he’d receive your letters. He’d get all anxious and fidgety every day, waiting for the mail owl to arrive. He’s never going to make the first move. He’d rather suffer for all his life but have you like this, than risk losing you entirely.”

The words felt like a warming blanket and an ice-cold lake. Comforting and terrifying, sweet and burning, all at the same time. 

Mattheo huffed a laugh, “Maybe you should write him a love letter.”

“Maybe I should…” You whisper, drunken thoughts taking over, and his head snapped up. 

“I was joking.”

“I’m not. That’s a good idea. I should write him a letter, and tell him that I’m moving on.” You brushed your legs off as you stood, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet, determined.

“Okay, that’s not what a love letter is. That’s so far from what I said—”

“Let’s go!” You grabbed his wrist, tugging him along behind you as you made your way through the halls. 

“Now? Why are we doing it now? We should be sleeping now!” His protests fell on deaf ears as you dragged him along. Throwing open the door to your room, Daphne was already asleep, still in her party dress, face down on her pillow, out cold from the night’s festivities and snoring.

Mattheo collapsed onto your bed, rolling onto his side and clutching a fluffy cushion to his chest as he curled into a ball. 

“I’ll just wait here, then.” He yawned through his words, but you were too busy to care, scrambling for a pot of ink and some new parchment. Taking a seat at your desk, you stared at the paper, quill hovering, ready to write.

So, I will spend the end of this year away from you. You say we’ll write, but I don’t want to. 

Only write to me, Tom, if you feel the same.  If not, don’t. Let me heal, and when we come back in the New Year, I promise, nothing will change except for my heart. 

We will still be friends, best friends, and we’ll never talk about it again.

I will wait for you.

Finishing the letter, you sighed at it, the ink drying and immortalising your words onto the page. Sitting before you was the sum total of what sat in your heart, and your mind. Laid out and ready to go, your hands trembled a little as you read it over, and over, to be sure. 

But you had to do this, you had to give this letter to him, to alleviate the strain on your heart, to finally have some closure. Whether he felt the same or not, you’d have relief. Folding it carefully, you searched a strip of wax seal lighting the end and waiting for it to get hot, drips of Slytherin green filling into a pool that overlapped the edge of your paper. When there was enough, you stamped it carefully, sealing it shut as the wax cooled. 

Taking a look behind you, you caught sight of a sleeping Mattheo, his jaw hanging open, drooling onto your favourite throw pillow, half tucked under your blankets from where he’s only bothered to cover his legs. Peeling away the wax seal, you walked over to him, shaking his shoulder, until he awoke with a huff and a groan, whining as he sat up. 

“I was dreaming.”

“I wrote the letter.” You show him the proof, and he rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, glancing from it, to you, and back. “You have to give it to him.”

“Now?”

“No! Not now. Tomorrow. After we get off the train.” He blinked a little more, waking up from his power nap and taking the paper from you. Flipping it over in his hands, he inspected Tom’s name across the front, no address, and raised his brows. 

“Why don’t you mail it?”

“That’ll take days, and I don’t want to leave it up to chance. I need you to give it to him, tomorrow. I know you’ll be swamped with everything your father expects of you both this time of year, events and frivolities and all, but you have to. I don’t want it getting lost amongst other letters and Christmas cards, and such.” Your hands clasped together before you, blinking at him pleadingly, and hoping your puppy-dog eyes were half as good as his.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and muttering to himself as he stood.

“Please, Matty.”

“Fine. I’ll give it to him.” He caved, and you threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“Tomorrow? After you get off the train?”

“Yes. I will give Tom the letter… tomorrow.”

Yours,

If you want me, 

(y/n) x

Tom double-checked his bags, sighing as he zipped up the piece of luggage he’d actually have access to on the train, everything he needed to survive a six-hour train journey. A knock sounded from the door, a signature one that only Mattheo ever used, excessively long and irritating, and the door swung open a second later to reveal his brother. 

Placing his carry-on down on the bed beside his own, Mattheo slumped out on his freshly-stripped bed. “You took your bags to the carriage already?”

“I got up early.”

“Surprising, I thought I’d have to drag you out of your bed this morning considering how much you drank last night.” He gave his brother a look, a single brow raised, and Mattheo just huffed. 

“It’s called having fun, you should try it sometime.”

Tom only rolled his eyes, gaze scanning across the bag Mattheo had abandoned, snagging on the letter sticking out of one pocket. T— was all that was visible. It might have been a card, that someone had addressed it to ‘Theo’ instead of Mattheo, but everyone called him ‘Matt’ if they wanted a nickname, to avoid confusion with Nott.

Curiosity ate at him, and nudging the bag subtly revealed just enough more to show an ‘O’. 

Definitely Tom, then. Mattheo was carrying a letter for him, and had not delivered it. Before he could pluck it from the pocket, his brother was sitting up, reaching for his bag and getting to his feet, swinging the letter out of his reach inadvertently. 

“Ready to go?”

“Is that letter for me?” Tom burst instead, making another move for the bag. His suspicions were only confirmed when Mattheo shifted his body, pulling the arm carrying the bag away from him, behind his body and out of Tom’s reach. “Why do you have it? When did it arrive?”

Mattheo turned casually, looking down at it, patting it and pushing it back into the bag, deeper. Tom recognised that handwriting now, though, and the urgency swelled. “Uh… last night, I think. But I was a little drunk, so…”

“Why didn’t you give it to me?” Tom pressed, biting his tongue from yelling at his brother, and Mattheo just shrugged. 

“Figured I’d give it to you on the train, or something. Or when we got home. It’s just a letter.”

“Yeah…” Tom could only hum in response, his mind spinning a little. Everyone had exchanged gifts and goodbyes last night, before the party. For exactly this reason, to avoid the morning rush to the train, to avoid the hassle in the morning. “But— I saw her last night. Why wouldn't she just give it to me then? Or mail it to me?” 

The questions were ceaseless, almost making Tom dizzy as he tried to think them through, and Mattheo could only shrug, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself. 

“I don’t know, Tom. She just came to me, and asked me to give you that letter because she didn’t want it to get lost amongst other letters, or take too long, or something like that.” It was a small lie, really, fabricated from aspects of the truth.

“So, it’s important, then! It’s obviously important if she couldn't risk it getting lost, if it had to be hand-delivered! I should read it.” Just like that, Tom stepped right into Mattheo’s trap. Now all he had to do was pull the pin, and let the steel jaws snap shut. Yes, it could potentially backfire hugely, but Mattheo was looking on the positive side for this. 

“We have to go, Tom. Everyone else has probably already left for the train.” Mattheo swung his bag again, making his point, and kicked Tom’s suitcase from where it sat beside the door towards him to pick up. “Let’s go.”

Tom sighed, grabbing his bags and taking a few steps after him, and didn’t even make it over the threshold of the door before he gave in. His bags dropped from his hands, and planted on his hips instead. “I’m going to read it.”

“Tom—”

“Give me the letter.” He held out his pal, and Mattheo tipped his head to the side, but pressed his lips together to hide a grin. “I’ll catch up, you go. I’ll read it and I’ll catch up, it’s only a letter, can’t take that long.”

He lunged for Mattheo's bag, snatching the crisply pressed paper from the pocket before his brother could stop him. As he turned away, he missed Mattheo’s victorious smile. “Alright, I’ll take your trunk down. Don’t be long, or you’ll miss the train.” And you’ll miss her, were Mattheo’s unspoken words, as he grabbed Tom’s suitcase and disappeared, leaving him alone. 

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Tom’s hand shook a little. The paper felt like it weighed a thousand tons. There was so much unspoken mystery behind it that Tom was sure whatever this letter said, it was not their usual correspondence. Not the chatty, friendly, borderline flirty letters they’d send each other when apart, this was more. 

Sliding his thumb neatly under the wax seal he was so familiar with, Tom popped open the letter, unfolding it carefully and flipping it around to read. 

His gaze scanned over the paper, lips flicking up at the use of the nickname he only allowed you to use, the swirl of your handwriting that he loved so much. The smile didn’t last long, however, and neither did the breath in his lungs as his chest seized. He read it.

Over and over again, he read the letter. 

The minutes melted past as he absorbed what it said, until he could read the letter word for word without looking at it, tattooed into his mind now like a brand. With trembling fingers, he folded the letter back up carefully, lifting the paper to his lips as his eyes slid shut. 

His heart was pounding, more so than he’d ever felt. Tom was not one for rash decisions and sudden jumps, everything was calculated and thought through and planned. But this, this was you. This is just what you did, forced him to let go of routine and be spontaneous, forced him to be carefree, to loosen the grip he had on the reigns, to show him he wouldn't fall apart at the slightest breeze. 

He smiled against the letter, thoughts of you flicking through his mind. 

And then a clock chimed, and he jumped violently within as he was rushed back to reality in a split second. The clock in the common room chimed loudly, echoing through the empty dorms and halls. 

Rushing to his feet, Tom opened his bag, tucking the letter safely inside one of his books to preserve it, to tuck it inside the box of letters from you that was tucked under his bed at home. You doubted him, his feelings, unsure he’d kept that first letter, when in reality, he’d kept every single one.

Every letter, every note, even the silly little joke you scribbled on torn-off pieces of paper and threw at him in class, he kept them all.

Zipping his bag back up and grabbing it, he had no time to spare, racing to the chimes of the clock through the castle, to the front gates where the final carriage was leaving. 

It felt too long. Too long as the horses plodded through the snow, too long as the wheel scrolled slowly, and his foot tapped agitatedly on the floor in a way he never allowed himself to do. His thumbnail was between his teeth, flicking between the frost-covered ground and his bag, wondering if it would actually be faster to run there himself. 

Ahead, the train sounded its horn. The final warning for all students to begin boarding and settling in, because they’d be departing soon. 

You watched as the trunks were beginning loaded onto the train, all to be collected when you arrived in London, only letting out a breath of relief as Mattheo rounded the corner, finally joining your group. 

“Matty! About time, we were worried you’d miss the train.” Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he sighed, a little out of breath, and hugged you back once he dropped the two bags in his hands. Nobody followed him, and your brows furrowed, pulling back, “Where’s Tom?”

“He’s probably already on the train, sulking somewhere. He’s never late.” Theo snickered, and you rolled your eyes, smacking him across the shoulder for his joke. 

“Blaise is inside holding a cabin for us, is Tom not sitting with us?” Enzo questioned, and you turned to Mattheo, waiting for answers. 

“He’ll be here, trust me.”

“He’s late?” Draco asked, quickly followed by Enzo and Theo, all discussing it. Regulus stayed quiet, smoking and trying to hide it from being seen, but his expression was just as concerned as everyone else’s. 

The chatter continued on, by your worry didn’t cease, checking up and down the platform as people bustled and crowded it. Saying their final goodbyes and giving out hugs, climbing on and off the train as they all wished one another Merry Christmas, and being unable to see either end was causing your anxiety to rocket higher. 

The train horn blared again, and students began to board. “Mattheo, seriously, where is he—” Just like that, you saw him, the busy platform parting to let him through, the look on his face as terrifying as ever, and people moved out of his way as he made his way towards your group. 

“Told you he’d be here,” Mattheo smirked, and you raised a brow. 

“The hell did you say to him this morning, Matt?” Regulus questions. 

“He looks mad,” Draco murmured. 

“He looks like he’s plotting.” Enzo corrected.

Every step closer rose the tension as Tom finally looked up, his sights setting on you, and his jaw clenched. Brows drawn in, he did look like he was plotting, like a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind that he couldn't sort through. 

“Hey, man. We thought you were gonna’ miss the—” Draco’s words cut off at your squeak, as Tom stepped closer, never stopping the movements of his body until he was cupping your cheeks, his mouth descending upon your own. 

You were almost knocked backwards from the force of it, your hands gripping at his shoulders as he bent you over backwards, a kiss so intense your knees almost went weak. 

It was desperate, you could barely keep up, kissing back as best you could through your shock, until it wore off enough to reciprocate. Wrapping one arm around his neck, your other slipped to his face, his own hands making their way down, to band around your waist and pull you in closer, until your bodies were flush. 

His tongue licked into your mouth, a sigh escaping you as he did, and your heart pounded against your heart, the same way he was doing, felt through his jumper and layers. The boys were whistling, cheering and hooting, and if you weren’t so happy you’d have been embarrassed by the show they were making, and the attention they were no doubt drawing. 

When he finally pulled back, you panted softly, his forehead resting on your own, blinking his eyes open to meet your gaze. 

“Can I write to you regardless?” He mumbled, voice rough and tense with emotion, and your brows furrowed. 

“Wh— What?” 

He leaned in, not helping you clear your dazed mind at all as he kissed you again, and again, until you were smiling, fingers clenched so tight in his coat that your knuckles were white, just to stay upright. 

You pecked his lips once more, chasing him as he pulled back, and the train horn sounded, a final warning, but you didn’t care. “You know how I feel now. You don’t have to wait for my reply. You can be assured that I will miss you dearly over these two weeks, and I am already counting the minutes until I see you again. But can I write to you, still?”

As the realisation set in, your face flamed, jaw dropping a little bit, and he wasted no opportunity, kissing you softly. “You read my letter.”

He only nodded, a gentle chuckle onto your mouth as your lips brushed. “You’d leave it to Mattheo to deliver? He’d probably lose it at a McDonalds, trying to get a Big Mac before my father saw him, on the way home. 

Your laughter was sweet, a puffed-out sound as his hands smoothed up and down your back. “I’d love to get more letters from you, Tommy. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you in person, but I was scared. I thought I’d made my feelings for you obvious, and you didn’t reciprocate, so I had to write that letter. To get it out, to finalise it all.”

“I like to consider myself a smart man, you know. When it comes to you, clearly, I’m a fool. You leave me speechless, and without proper thoughts, every time. All I can think about is how pretty you are, and how much I like you, despite my best efforts not to.” 

The declaration was so utterly Tom, to hate being in love even if he loved it. 

“For Salazar’s sake, what have you done, Matt?” Theo cussed, and you twisted your head to look at him. “Shakespeare over here is going to be writing sonnets for the rest of the year. None of us will stand a chance with any other girls when he’s showing us up, standing under windows, yelling his love to the moon.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring their nonsense. Tom did the same, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, and leaving a kiss there.

“I’ll look forward to your letters, just as I did in the summer.” You whisper, pulling away from him as the platform clears, most students already aboard now.

“And after?” Tom questions, “May I still write you letters if I, too, find myself struggling to confess my feelings in person?”

“Oh, God,” Enzo muttered. “He’s going to be writing love letters all year. He’s making the rest of us sound like cavemen. Me, you, bed, now.” He grunted, smacking a fist in his chest. You giggled as Tom rolled his eyes. 

“We should get on the train.” You whisper, taking pity on the others and untangling yourself from his arms. 

Tom took his bag again, and your own. With a final kiss on your cheek, he walked away to the door of the carriage, letting the rest of you follow behind. Mattheo fell into step beside you, smirking as he bumped your hips with his own.

“So, should I tell my mother and father that they have a new daughter-in-law this holiday, or wait ‘til the next.”

His teasing made you blush again, cheeks already red in the cold, warming you under all those layers. “You’re a filthy traitor. You gave him my letter early.”

“I said I’d give it to him ‘tomorrow’. Never agreed to the after the train part.” He tutted, proud of himself. “Always pay attention to the words of a contract. My dear brother taught me that. You never have to break a promise, if you’re smart with your words.”

That sounded exactly like something your man would say, your eyes rolling to the Heavens. 

Mattheo leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper as the pair of you climbed the steps. “You never have to break your heart either, if you’re smart about who you give it to.”

[azrielsdove]

I had the idea late at night so idk if you don’t want to write that, i understand haha

Reader and azriel are mates and have been for a while, nesta and elain were made and feyre and rhys asked cassian and azriel to look after them. Reader was okay with it but elain showed her a different side then the others, where she is rude and is telling her az will be hers, reader tried to bring it up in private but no one believed her because elain is so nice in front of everyone. Elain starts to sit in readers place and stands next to az, so reader isn’t even going out anymore. Az has a lot of other missions as well and tells reader that he only loves her and elain means nothing to him, maybe elain overheard that. After a mission az gives rhys his reports and then fell asleep on the couch, elain lays down next to him but he is so out that he doesn’t even feel her, reader wants to see after az and sees that, when she is trying to leave, rhys finds her and she shows him everything that happened even the parts where elain was rude, reader then leaves for awhile to get away from everything and azriel just loses it. You could add more angst if you want but i would love for a happy end with az and reader maybe where is is also pregnant?

The Other Woman: Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Spiraling thoughts

***

Elain Archeron was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.

You understood the she had gone through incomprehensible trauma along with her sister, and you understood why Rhys would appoint Azriel and Cassian to help them. You had no issue allowing your mate to help the poor girl come back to life, accepting her new fate. No, that was not the problem.

The problem was that she was a nasty, two-faced, bitch.

The first time it happened you were completely taken aback, shocked by the words that had come from the otherwise soft-spoken female.

“He’s going to be mine, you know.”

You had stilled your movements, turning slowly to see her peeking out from the library doors. “Excuse me?” You asked, certain you had misunderstood.

She gave a sneering smile. “Azriel. I’m going to make him mine.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that had burst from you. “Okay then,” you said, moving to continue walking. You made a note to bring it up to your mate later, warn him that Elain may have gotten too attached.

Unfortunately the following days had been hectic, Azriel was sent on a dangerous mission for Rhys. You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to him, and with the state he came back in you had no interest in adding anything else to his plate.

It happened again a few days later.

“Why would he stay with you when i’m here?” She asked, looking you up and down.

You raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry? What are you on about?”

She rolled her eyes. “Azriel, obviously. Why would he need you any longer? I’m certain I can satisfy him miles better than you can.”

“Mhm,” you mused, nodding at her wild claims. “Do you understand the mating bond?”

She made a noise of annoyance, crossing her arms in front of her. “I have a mate, and I can’t stand him. That ‘bond’ means nothing to me.”

“It means something to Az,” you said, staring her down. “What has he done that makes you think he’s interested?”

She gave a pretty smile, smoothing the skirts of her dress. “Feyre has Rhys, Nesta has Cassian. It only makes sense, does it not? Three sisters, three brothers. He’s smart enough to have already figured it out. The only thing standing in our way is you.”

You hummed at her delusions, turning to leave the room. “Have a nice night, Elain,” you said, acting as if she had just been talking about the weather. You refused to give her the satisfaction of upsetting you.

Some nights later you were sitting with Azriel as he caught up with his brothers, lost in thought while you sipped your wine. You heard a faint call of your name, turning to meet the concerned eyes of your husband. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, scanning you over for anything amiss.

You smiled, shaking your head. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“You’re thinking pretty hard there. Az was calling your name for ages,” Cassian laughed, but his eyes showed the same concern. You sighed, taking a bigger drink of your wine.

“I’ve just been dealing with something, that’s all,” you said, swirling the liquid in your glass nonchalantly. Azriel watched you closely, trying to read what was wrong.

“You can always tell us,” Rhys offered, tipping his glass your way.

You took a deep breath, looking down at your hands. “Have any of you ever had any issues with Elain?”

Three blank stares met yours.

“I’ll take that as a no, then,” you muttered into your wine.

“What kind of problems?” Azriel pressed, worry in his expression.

“She’s just been, a little….rude to me.”

Silence.

And then loud laughter.

“Elain?” Cassian gasped out, pounding on the table. “Quiet, docile, Elain? Are you sure you aren’t confusing her with Nesta?” You shot him a nasty look, Rhys’ own chuckle drawing your attention to him.

“How has she been rude?” He asked, not hiding the smile on his face.

You looked down at the ground, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “Maybe i’m just reading into it. I thought she was jealous…that she was into Az.” You regretted even bringing the topic up as Cassian and Rhys broke out in more laughter.

“No way! Elain has a mate, remember? Why would she go after a married male?” You nodded at Cassian, acknowledging his words.

“Yea, i’m sure i’m just misunderstanding,” you mumbled, draining your glass in an instant. You stood, heading for the door.

“Aw now, we didn’t mean anything bad! It’s just such a shock that Elain would be trying to get Az!” Rhys called out behind you, trying to convince you to stay.

You looked back, eyes connecting with Azriel’s. “I’ll be up shortly,” he said, his unspoken words hanging in the air. He was not going to let his brothers get away with laughing at you. You gave him a small smile and continued out to your room, leaving him to deal with them.

***

Elain only grew worse after that. She started openly flirting with Azriel, laughing at anything he said and placing her hand playfully on his arm. He always pulled away from her, moving to stand by your side as a silent “Stop”.

She didn’t care.

Azriel spent the nights trying to convince you that Elain didn’t matter to him, that you were the only one for him. You wanted to believe him, needed to believe him, but the comments she made when no one else could hear were getting to you.

“You’re too ugly for him.”

“Don’t you think he would want someone younger? Are you even able to give him children at your ancient age?”

“I know he wants me. He looks at me when you aren’t paying attention.”

“You’re pathetic, you know. He deserves better. He deserves someone who can stand proudly at his side.”

Her words swam around your head, eating away at you. You were sinking down into yourself, drowning in self-doubt. What if she was right? What if Azriel really did deserve better?

You began spending more time locked away in your room, an attempt to avoid Elain’s nasty comments. You had no desire to see her throw herself at Azriel, and you didn’t think you could handle much more of her taunting. A rational part of you knew that this was ridiculous, your husband would never give her a second look. Another part of you was embarrassed that this young girl was so good at getting into your head, that she had rendered you a shell of yourself. The largest part of you, unfortunately, bought in to all she said and hid away in shame.

Azriel was getting progressively more worried about you.

“My love,” he murmured, stroking his hand through your hair as he held you close. “I have half a mind to tell Rhys to send her somewhere else. Why does she trouble you so?” He couldn’t understand how Elain had torn down his perfect wife, leaving this ghost in her place.

You buried your face farther into his chest, wishing you could just disappear. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

He sighed and held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You are the stars in the sky, the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze under my wings. Nothing, and no one, is comparable to you. Especially not Elain Archeron. You are all there is for me, you are my everything. My heart and my soul. She is nothing to me.”

Tears fell from your eyes and his words prompted you to look up, the love shining on his face washing over you. “I know, Az. I know it’s foolish to allow her to make me doubt us.” You ducked your head down, ashamed. “Though sometimes I still wonder if you should’ve been mated to someone more powerful.”

Azriel clicked his tongue at your age-old concern, a conversation the two of you had gone over many times. “You know as well as I do that that’s not true. You were the one cauldron-made for me. We were sworn to each other from the day of our creation. Do not ever forget that.” He slipped a hand under your chin, bringing you back up to look at him. He studied your face like it was a painting, like he needed to memorize everything he saw. His thumb came up and brushed away your tears as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Elain will never be what you are.” He kissed you again and again, swallowing your fears with his adoration.

Neither of you noticed the form of the female standing outside the slightly open door.

***

Azriel was tired, shuffling through the house after yet another mission. He hated that he had been gone so often recently, especially with the issues you’ve been having with Elain. He was sick with worry over the whole situation, and was growing aggravated with Rhys’ lack of action. Even when Azriel had spoken to his brother himself, the High Lord still struggled to believe his quiet sister-in-law was being so horrible. Az even went to Feyre, who got upset that he would accuse her sister of such things.

He ran a hand over his face, making his way to the library to find you. He was disheartened when he opened the doors and found you weren’t there. He took a seat on one of the leather couches, deciding to just wait for you there. Azriel knew that you often came around this time to browse the books, and he was too tired to continue searching for you. He gave a gentle tug on the bond to alert you that he was home before tipping his head back and closing his eyes.

***

Elain was positively delighted to find the sleeping form of the Shadowsinger. She looked around quickly to make sure no one saw as she gently closed the doors to the library behind her. She wasted no time in curling up next to him on the couch, resting her head in his lap. She slowly dragged his arm over her waist, a wicked smile coming across her face. She knew you would be coming to find him, and what a sight you would see when you did.

***

The second Cassian dropped you at the House of Wind you were practically running through the halls. When you had felt the tug that meant Azriel was back, you demanded Cass bring you home in the middle of lunch. He grumbled about not being done as you packaged the food up for him, pulling him from the little restaurant. You were in much better spirits today, Elain hadn’t approached you in days. When Cass suggested going down to Velaris to eat you had jumped at the opportunity, excited to be in the happy bustle of people who lived there.

You slid to a stop in front of the library, one of his shadows twisting around your legs. “Hello,” you cooed, a smile on your face. The shadow started moving faster, almost as if it were upset. Worry took over your heart then, concern that Azriel had gotten hurt.

You threw open the library doors and stopped dead in your tracks. There, on the couch, was Azriel. Uninjured, asleep.

And curled up on his lap was Elain.

You stood there in pure horror, not noticing Cassian coming up behind you. “What?” He said, taking in the sight in front of you. You didn’t realize you were shaking in rage until he put his hands on your arms, trying to pull you away.

“Get off of me,” you ground out, ripping your arms out of his grasp. Cassian called your name, trying to stop the explosion that was about to happen. Your vision was red, the anger and pain of seeing the two of them cuddled up like lovers too much to handle. “I’m going to kill them.”

“You will not,” came a powerful voice, Rhys stepping in front of you. “My office. Now.” You wanted to spit at his feet and tell him to shove off, but one look at his eyes told you that wouldn’t end well. You huffed, allowing him to lead you away.

Unnoticed on the couch, Elain smiled.

***

“Why would you stop me?” You practically yelled, pacing back and forth in front of Rhys.

“You can’t murder my brother and sister-in-law in their sleep.” He said, as if this was a regular occurrence.

“That filthy bitch,” you swore, turning to face Rhys head on. “I tried to tell you who she truly was, and no one listened.” You glared at him, crossing your arms in front of you.

“Elain has never showed signs of what you spoke of. As horrible as it is, could it be that Azriel was a part of this?” He regretted the words before he was even done saying them.

“Why do you refuse to believe that she could be playing a dirty game behind your back? Behind everyone’s back? I had no reason to make up lies about her, Rhysand,” you spat out, power crackling at your fingertips.

He stood, coming to stand by your side. He pulled your hands into his, looking down at your glowing fingertips. “Show me,” he said, voice hardly above a whisper. You faltered, power fading away. You were embarrassed to let him see how badly she had affected you, but you knew he would not believe you otherwise.

“Okay,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes. You felt the strange sensation of Rhys entering your mind, pulling through all your memories with Elain. He listened to all the nasty things she said when no one else could hear, and felt the pain she caused you. When he was done he looked ashamed of himself, upset that he had brushed you off.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hands from yours. “I should have trusted you.”

You nodded. “Yea, you should have.” Rhys looked at the ground, his hands in his pockets. “I want to go away for a while. Anywhere. I can’t stand to be around her any longer, and I certainly have no interest in speaking to him.” You couldn’t even say your mates name, the hurt cutting too deep in your chest.

“As you wish,” Rhys said, “I’ll meet you on the balcony in an hour.”

***

Azriel woke with a start. Something was very, very wrong. Starting with the female asleep next to him.

He didn’t stop himself from jumping up, nearly knocking her to the floor. Not that he cared. “What are you doing?!” He hissed between his teeth, angry that she would pull a stunt like this.

Elain smiled up at him prettily, stretching as if she had been asleep for hours. “I was just sleeping, Azriel.” He hated the way she spoke his name, as if it were a sensual demand. “Your sweet little mate didn’t come to you, did she?” She fake pouted, tucking a hand under her chin.

Azriel’s eyes flared, his shadows whipping through the room. He stepped closer to her, hauling her to her feet with a strong grip on her arm. “This game you’re playing is done. Speak to me or my wife again, and I will make sure it’s the last thing you do.” He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty at the fear in her eyes as he strode from the room, searching for you.

***

Rhys had taken you out to the cabin at your request. You wanted to be somewhere alone, but safe. “What should I tell him?” He asked as he headed to leave.

“Tell him to figure out what he wants before it’s too late.” Rhys nodded, looking you over once more. “If you need anything, i’m just a call away,” he quipped, tapping the side of his head before winnowing out of sight.

You sighed, sinking down into the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. You stared into the burning flames for what felt like hours, lost in your own mind. Azriel wouldn’t have lied to you, would he? Your mate has always been an honest male, had always loved you with everything he had. You found it hard to believe that he was messing around with Elain behind your back, regardless of what you saw. You knew how nasty she could be, and wouldn’t put it past her to pull something like this.

At the same time, the image of his arm draped lovingly around her was burned into your brain. You saw it over and over again, how well they complemented each other. The strong, dark Shadowsinger and the quiet, warm Archeron sister. Had the cauldron made a mistake? You couldn’t help but remember her words, ‘three brothers and three sisters.’ You and Azriel were mated decades before she was born, it could be plausible that the cauldron had made a mistake.

Yet the cauldron had also given Elain her own mate. It wouldn’t mess up twice, would it? Unless the cauldron had meant for you and Lucien to be mated, and Elain with Azriel. Perhaps something got crossed over and the pairings were mixed. Could all your years of joy and love with Azriel be wrong? You never felt anything was awry when you were with him, always feeling like you were truly meant to be.

You sighed and wrapped a blanket tight around you, willing it to keep away the lonely cold. You couldn’t imagine a life without Azriel by your side, and you didn’t know what you would do if that’s what he wanted.

***

“Where is she?!” Azriel bellowed through the halls of the House, shadows infiltrating every room and hallway. Rhys and Cass stood in front of him, trying to calm their brother. “I know you know! What kind of a game are you playing, hiding my own mate from me?!” He was angrier than he had ever been, angry at himself, at Elain, at Rhys. How could he have let Elain play him like that?

“I won’t tell you anything until you’ve calmed down,” Rhys stated, power rising to match Azriel’s.

“Calmed down? You expect me to calm down when that witch has been ruining my mates life, and now she’s disappeared and no one will tell me where she went?!” Azriel was seething, pacing angrily in the hall.

“I’d watch how you speak about my sister, Azriel.” He whirled around to see Feyre, eyes cool as she took in his agitated form.

“Your sister is a disgusting, selfish, spoiled brat! Someone tell me where my mate is before I tear this city apart!” He didn’t care that he was yelling at his High Lady, at his High Lord and brother. All he could see was red, and he was half a second away from leaving the House and looking for her on his own.

“Enough, Azriel,” Rhys commanded, bringing attention back to him. “Feyre, unfortunately it does seem true that Elain has been acting…undesirably.” There was a silence for a moment, her eyes widening as he shared the memories you showed him.

“Oh, Az,” she soothed, taking a step closer and reaching a hand out for him.

“Don’t touch me!” He shouted, pulling back from her. “I need to know where she is. I have to explain that what she saw was a dirty trick.” The anger was fading from his voice, despair taking over. What if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? He wouldn’t be able to handle losing you over this.

“Az,” Rhys started, voice calm. “She asked to go away. You’re going to have to give her time to process what has happened.” He took a step towards his brother. “I am sorry I didn’t listen before. She showed me her memories, of everything Elain had said. She will be dealt with, I promise you. I should have never let it get this bad.”

Azriel knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but that didn’t stop him from lashing out. “Yea, you should’ve listened. When has she ever lied to you, Rhysand?” He shook his head. “Let me know if she contacts you,” was the last thing he said before storming off towards your shared room.

***

Some time had passed since you left Velaris, and the loneliness was threatening to overtake you. You had felt some tugs on the bond once Azriel realized you were gone, and had shut him out. You didn’t need him bothering you as you tried to figure out what to do. After pondering for days, you still had no idea what was true or not. You felt like you were losing your grip on reality, that you were sinking down into a pit of your own creation. You’d hardly moved from the couch since you arrived, staring into the endless flames.

A knock at the door startled you, but you no longer had the energy to truly care. You turned your head slowly to see Rhys walk in, eyes full of worry. “Have you moved at all?” He asked, taking in that the food he had left was untouched.

You shrugged.

Rhys came and sat next to you on the couch, looking you over. “He’s losing it without you,” he said softly, unsure what kind of mental state you were in.

Your eyes moved from the fire to him, stare blank. “I think you should come home. Being out here alone isn’t doing you any good. You’re withering away to nothing.”

Good. You’d rather disappear than live with the idea of Azriel and Elain. Rhys seemed to read this on your face, gingerly grabbing one of your hands in his own. “She’s been removed from the House. She’s not allowed out without Feyre or myself with her. She won’t hurt you anymore.”

You blinked. “What does Azriel think?” You asked, voice hoarse from no use.

“Az couldn’t care less about her. He’s worried about you.” There was a pleading in his eyes, begging you to come back with him.

“What if she was supposed to be cauldron-made for him?” Your voice was quiet, broken. You could feel the pain of your words as they hit Rhys, the shame of having ignored your attempts at warning him how Elain truly was.

“She isn’t. Even if you and Azriel were not mates, I have never met two people more suited for each other than you. It is clear that the love you hold is a special thing, something most won’t ever experience.” He tugs your hand closer. “Please. Come home.”

You didn’t know Rhys to lie to you, and your heart longed for Azriel. You couldn’t hide from this forever, regardless of how it turned out. “Okay,” you said, allowing him to pull you to your feet and winnow you back to Velaris.

***

Azriel was waiting when Rhys flew you back to the House, eyes wide as he took in the state of you. When Rhys set you down you immediately stumbled, head light from the lack of eating and sleeping. Azriel caught you before you could hit the ground, an alarmed gaze shooting to Rhys. “We will talk later,” he said, “take her to your room. I’ll send for Madja to check her over soon.”

Azriel nodded his thanks and carried you to your room, tucking you into the bed. You sunk into the familiar smell of him, trying to force the spinning in your head to disappear. “My love,” Azriel murmured, brushing hair out of your face. “What have I done?”

You opened your eyes and took him in. Truthfully, he didn’t look much better than you. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and his face was unusually gaunt. The stress of this situation had clearly taken its toll on the both of you.

“Are you in love with her?” You asked, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.

Azriel looked at you as if you had grown two heads.

“I’m sorry? In love with Elain? In hate with her is more like it.” You couldn’t deny the acid that dripped from his words, the anger the permeated the room.

“I saw you two. Asleep in the library.”

He scoffed. “I fell asleep waiting for you. She took it upon herself to take advantage of the situation.” He looked down at his hands, silver lining his eyes. “I never should have let it go this far.”

You sat up slowly, reaching out for him. Azriel moved quickly, gently laying you back down as he laid beside you. “Easy, my love. Your body is weak.” You hadn’t realized how bad you had gotten during your time at the cabin, suddenly feeling dizzy and sick.

“I’m so sorry, Az. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t handle it,” you sobbed, not even noticing the tears that had started falling.

“No, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I should’ve fought harder against her, tried harder to get Rhys to listen.” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb through your tears. You curled into his touch, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest.

You cried until your head was pounding, Azriel whispering sweet nothings into your ears. “I love you. Only you.” Your tears slowly stopped, until you felt confident enough to look up at him.

“I love you. I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you said, leaning up to kiss him.

A knock sounded at the door. Azriel jumped up to get it, letting Madja into the room. She began checking you over, tsking at the state of you. “I’ll give you something for dehydration, and you’ll need to start introducing food again. Start with soup, and work your way up. I have a sleep aid as well, I recommend you take it promptly.” She ran her hands over your arms and legs, ensuring all your bones were still in good shape. She did the same over your head, shoulders, and chest.

“Your heart sounds good, and your lungs are working well. You were lucky the High Lord came when he did, much more of letting yourself wither away and you’d have a significantly harder recovery ahead of you,” she chided, continuing her check of your body. Her hands swept over your abdomen before she paused, bringing them back up. “Ah,” she murmured, Azriel immediately on guard.

“What is it? Is something wrong?” He asked, gripping your hand a tad too tightly.

Madja shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong.” She looked up at you and cocked her head. “You are a lucky girl, you know. Not many pregnant fae could have refused food and drink for that long and still kept a reasonably healthy body and fetus.”

You stared at her.

She stared back.

Azriel stared at the both of you.

“What?” You finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

She smiled, pressing her hands against your abdomen again. “A baby. Healthy, winged, i’d say 12 or so weeks along?” 12 weeks? You did the math in your head, realizing with a start that around 12 weeks ago Elain started terrorizing you. That shortly after that her words began affecting you worse and worse, that you couldn’t understand why she was able to make you so upset.

Now you knew.

“A baby,” Azriel whispered, looking at you. Madja took that as her cue to leave, placing the medicine on your nightstand and slipping from the room. He pulled you into his arms, inhaling your scent deeply. Sure enough, there it was. A lighter, fresh scent hidden under yours. He must have missed it throughout the recent stress and his back-to-back missions.

“A baby,” you whispered back, more tears threatening to fall. “Our baby.”

You saw tears of his own in Azriel’s eyes as he leaned down to kiss you, whispering “baby” in between each kiss.

The ordeal with Elain behind you, you allowed yourself to slip off into sleep, dreams of your future with Azriel and your child playing in your mind.

***

I’m so sorry this took so long for me to finish! I got into a bit of a writing rut, but I hope this was what you wanted. Thank you so much for your request! <3

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 1

Rhiana is your dear friend who lives just out of town in a cozy cottage in the forest. You met while shopping. You two talk about the different spices she suggests to flavor meat and veggies. It leads you to a fast but close friendship with Rhiana, close enough that it becomes a usual event to visit her monthly while you’re in the area. Whether it’s shopping, karaoke, or just coffee date hangouts there is one thing that comes up a lot.

“Rhiana you’re so pretty.”

“Aw (Y/n) thank you!”

“Seriously though you’re like a painting. I still can’t believe you don’t model.”

“Honestly (Y/n) you’re such a charmer!”

Your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t do anything for a nightly routine or facials or specific remedies to look how she does. Seeing her when you do it seems like the scale of her looks ranges from glowing to immaculate. It certainly makes getting free stuff with her much easier. She just will credit one thing to her looks and even then she doesn’t talk about it much.

“Maybe it’s what I eat…I have been eating more meat, lately.”

But your dear friend Rhiana doesn’t explain anymore, usually going on a tangent about how she can season her meat. She’ll refuse to tell you just how stringent her beauty is on her carnivorous diet. Because on top of being a good friend to you, she is a Witch. Specifically, the kind that maintains her health and youth by devouring the souls and bodies of human beings. She usually prefers eating children but since she’s met you she’s decided to reign it in.

“What if me and (Y/n) had a baby? Hehe, I can’t believe it’s making me blush so much.”

“Aaaaahh please let me go home!!! I promise not to tell!”

“Hmmmm maybe we’ll have 3…or 5 or 10. They won’t be allowed to leave if we have that many right?”

Rhiana the Witch has been doing this for hundreds of years and she’s had her fair share of lovers and harems. But she’s never found out about someone so early in advance. When she was much younger much dumber of 113  she’d seen a vision featuring you, of course at the time she didn’t know. Nor was she aware just how much seeing the future you had awakened something in her. Now she’s well in her 600s and she realizes how all of her flings in the past have features of yours or they speak like you. Or how her familiars mirror different aspects of your personality and as she delves into her past she realizes how all her life she’s been building up to be with you.

“(Y/n) is my….special person….their mine. All Mine!”

Now on top of feeding her voracious appetite, she’s trying to gain your affections so that she has your consent to make you immortal like she. If you might think it’s because she respects boundaries, then you’d be wrong. The potion she’s perfected over centuries only works if you give your express consent, with as little pressure as possible. So she’s refrained from drugging you on her many outings with you…for now. 

If I wanted to I could sprinkle a light aphrodisiac dust into the food they just keep shoveling into their mouth.

“But then I–HACK—*cough cough*”

“Hon, maybe don’t talk while you’re eating.”

“Right! So as I was saying–”

But Elements do I adore just watching them eat so happily.

She feels like a hapless teen all over again as her stomach flips and turns the more time she spends with you. No longer can she get a wink of her enchanted eyes and some choice sugar-coated words to get you exactly where she wants you. She has to try with you and she’s never wanted to do so more than with you. She’s even begun to tailor her meals with the ones that seem to bother you most. It’s risky but the satisfaction of a full tummy while she reads your letter about the creepy vendor finally stopping their emails makes her happy. 

“That is convenient.”

“I know. It’s not right to celebrate anyone going missing—”

“But it doesn’t take away from the harm they’ve done. Don’t feel bad hon it’s probably just an extended trip somewhere to the underworld.”

She thinks about how she’ll hide her rejuvenating diet when she finally gets you closer to her. You might not notice when she uses magic but you're not an idiot; you’d figure it out eventually. Not to mention the added trouble of her familiar’s growing interest and past suitors budding their noses in her business with you. She’s got a lot of work on her hands—and not a lot of time.

“Hey (Y/n) why don’t I come visit you every once in a while? Two days a month just isn’t enough time to make you fall in hopeless love with me+. What do say to me spending a night or two at yours?”

She's giving the former mc going for the side character reader Debating about a part 2 🖤🖤🖤🖤

I did it! Part 2: Here 🖤🖤🖤

[kooktrash]

lace & luxury | kim taehyung

summary: Money, Money, Money, must be funny in the rich man’s world. At least that’s how you feel working day and night to make end’s meet and still never having enough. Out of nowhere you get roped into a give and take relationship with a very powerful fashion designer who shows you the way into a life of luxury and lingerie. You’ve become his muse and in exchange he’s become your source of pleasure and riches. It’s a rich man’s world and you’re living in it.

➣ genre/au: sugar daddy!taehyung x exotic dancer!reader [she/her, female anatomy], taehyung aged up

➣ 13.6k words

warnings: smut. tae is 31 oc is 21. a lot of teasing. mention of NDAs. he’s a bit cold to everyone else. oc is an exotic dancer. oc dances on Tae a couple times. Tae adores oc. lavishes in gifts. protected sëx. oc is confident af. oc has belly button piercing. Tae is very handsy. jk and Hobi are oc’s besties so a lot of locker room talk between the three. oral [f receiving].m. multiple positions. missionary. mating press. and riding. an open ending but also I feel like y’all know what’s gonna happen

THE BILLIONAIRE’S CLUB

Money does not buy happiness.

Money does not buy happiness.

Money does not bu—

“Fucking hell,” you groaned in annoyance as you hit the machine in front of you. The vending machine seemed to mock you with its silence even as you pushed the button for your drink a dozen times. There was a clear sign above that said not to hit the machine yet here you were beating the shit out of it with your foot.

Three dollars. It just took three dollars and refused to give you your drink. What a fucking con.

Money doesn’t buy happiness but you know that if you had that nice and refrigerated fizzy drink right now you would be at least .05% happier than you are now. With a defeated sigh you gave the vending machine one final ‘fuck you’ and left. Listen, you’re not a moody person [not usually] but you’re stressed, broke, and hungry… and now annoyed.

“You’re stressing over a drink or three dollars? I can’t tell,” Jungkook asked you as you stood at the entrance to work still thinking about earlier, “Go get a drink from Hobi and once you get on stage you’ll make more than 3$ quickly. No biggie.”

“It’s about the morals, Kook,” you sighed, “In this country even the vending machines are capitalists, taking money from the poor and not giving us anything in return.”

“It’s fine, you take money from horny rich people, speaking of which if you don’t go get ready, boss will throw a fit,” Jungkook said, pushing you forward and cutting your talk short. You whined in frustration as you did as told and headed to the dressing room.

You were a bit dramatic, you know you were. It was just three dollars but damn did that piss you off. You haven’t eaten a single thing since you were working a full day waitressing and now you’ve got to get on stage and dance on an empty stomach. You just paid rent and your stupid student debt bills and now you’re very broke. After tonight you’ll surely have way more money but it doesn’t change the fact that this is a common problem you have.

During the day you waitress and at night you dance at an exotic club where the clients treat you like some dress-up doll they touch whenever they want and stuff crumpled dollar bills in your lingerie because they think it’s sexy. You loved to dance, that was not the problem, it was the people you danced for and why you did it. If you had the money to finish off school you would have a degree by now in fashion marketing but instead you’re stuck with two jobs struggling to pay off loans and reach ends meet. It was exhausting.

“I heard about your drink dilemma,” Hoseok said apologetically as you got to the bar already dressed in lingerie waiting for your cue. He handed you a glass meant for whiskey filled with the fizziness of caffeine and you thanked him profusely before chugging it down.

“But if it makes you feel better, a group of very wealthy looking young men just walked into V.I.P,” he added. You released a content sight as you handed him the empty glass, “I’m not in the mood to be groped tonight.”

“So just the stage? Got it,” he said and you gave him a soft smile as you heard your stage name be called and you left.

“You need to loosen up, get some inspiration even,” Jimin said with a chuckle as he led Taehyung by the shoulders into the red night club. He’ll admit it’s above his expectations but at the end of the day — or night — it’s still an exotic club with women in lingerie unlike he’s ever seen. He should be used to it by now but he’s not. He’s too stressed to even enjoy whatever his friends had planned for him tonight.

“How about that one?” Jimin asked pointing to a dancer who was currently sitting on the lap of an older man wearing the ugliest Rolex watch Taehyung has ever seen. He just shook his head and kept his gaze forward as they went to a V.I.P section close to the stage.

Here’s the thing, Taehyung is new to all of this but at the same time he isn’t. Being the eldest grandson of the one and only original creator of the luxurious lingerie brand, Erotes: Sexy, Sensual, & Surreal, you would think he’s more used to this by now and he is. He’s used to the designs and fashion shows that his grandmother and mother would put on but to be the one in charge of it all now? That’s an entirely different ball game and he’s failing miserably to come up with something for the spring catalog. In truth, his younger sister should have been the one to take over but unfortunately that wasn’t the case and now they’re both unhappy with the outcome. He’s 31, he’s thankful to be able to get in the position he’s in at the head of his own empire but he’s just struggling. How is he supposed to find inspiration to follow their footsteps?

“Next up is the loveliest of them all, Venus, with her sensual movements you’ll have no choice but to fall to your knees, worshiping her like the goddess she is.”

You nearly gagged on stage at your intro as the lights went black and you stood at the center of the stage ready to walk forward when the song started. To clarify, you didn’t choose the stage name.

Some bottle girls brought expensive liquor to their section but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention anymore. He’s not sure when he tuned out how the night was going until you came out on stage. It wasn’t your introduction that drew him in but it was the sudden shift in the air that made him take in what was going on. The lights had gone off with only a red and blue hall above your head and it was the first time he took notice in one of the dancer’s he’s seen tonight.

He didn’t know where to look first, his eyes went from your feet which were in tall crystal heels to the length of your smooth legs before stopping at the first hint of lingerie he could see. You wore baby pink panties under a sheer babydoll dress and you looked simple yet elegant, like the stage was where you belonged. Your hand trailed up from your thigh to your stomach lifting the frill fabric for anyone’s watching eyes and he watched you dance, entranced for the first time tonight.

The lingerie was cute, it was simple and appealing to the eye but it wasn’t for you. He could see it in your strong gaze, this wasn’t right for you. You should be in a dark color that matched your strong presence and the desire you brought upon whoever watched you. You needed something that showed more, less concealing. He can picture you in a garter belt, pearls around your neck maybe…

The way you moved seemed to captivate every single person in the room and Taehyung especially.

By the end of your performance Taehyung watched you walk off stage and it’s the same confidence you put formed and the energy immediately changed when you were gone. He hadn’t realized how focused he was on your dance until he released the breath he had been holding in.

“Getting inspo yet?” Jimin joked as he snapped Taehyung out of his trance with a pat on his leg.

When Taehyung first took over Erotes, everyone expected a lot of changes. The company went from being owned by generations of women to now the first man in charge and not a lot were comfortable considering the lingerie was specifically for women and those others who would choose to wear it—very clearly not Taehyung. He knew he would face a lot of challenges and that’s what’s happening right now.

He wants to create a line of lingerie that the wearers [whoever that maybe, biologically female or not] would feel comfortable in. He doesn’t want to make it simply for the male gaze, he wants the wearer to feel comfortable and sexy and proud of their body. It probably isn’t much help that the person who had suddenly inspired him to create is an exotic dancer but something about you just caught his attention.

He’s solely looking at you from a designer’s point of view and he’s picturing that some of the company’s target audience would be people like you. Of course he’s going to create pieces for those who would just like to feel sexy at home or under their work clothes, but he needs to find inspiration first.

That is the sole reason why he went back to the gentlemen's club a couple nights later all by himself. The atmosphere seemed to fit what he was looking for too and he just needed to be in the element and in the presence of someone he considers sexy.

By the time he arrived it was late and since it was a weekday there weren’t that many people there. Business was good, just not as busy as on weekends but it worked in his favor. When he asked for a private dance they directed him to a red room where all he had to do was wait patiently for you to come in.

To be honest, you were a bit annoyed to do the private dance. Usually the ones who request are young arrogant men who don’t pay enough for what they get and if that wasn’t the client then it was typically some old ass dirty sleazebag who needs Viagra to keep it up. You definitely weren’t expecting for a man who looked like a God to be sitting there on the red velvet couch, dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana suit and had sandy blonde hair. He looked arrogant but for a reason, look at him. He was lounging comfortably on the seat with his arms stretched out on the back of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. His legs were spread in a manly way and his shoes shined even in the darkness.

You didn’t say anything when you walked in but the silk robe you wore simply slipped off your shoulders as the music began and exposed your lingerie to his hungry eyes. He raised his glass to his lips as he watched you let it fall to the floor and saunter over to him. You fell to your knees before him and your manicured hands skimmed over his thighs making his legs open just a little more to make room for you. Neither of you have spoken but for the moment it didn’t feel like you needed to.

The room was a little foggy too but Taehyung could see you very clearly as you pushed up against his thighs until you were standing back up and his eyes locked on yours when you swung a leg over his lap and swayed to the music. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch but he kept himself composed as he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Venus,” you used your stage name for obvious reasons as you situated yourself on his lap. Taehyung wasn’t aware of his moving hand until he was just inches away from touching your waist when you grabbed it and pressed it into the couch. Your breasts pushed against his chest as your fingers locked with his and you whispered into her ear, “You can look but don’t touch.”

“Got it,” he said breathlessly and he really did understand. He knew the rules and honestly he was unaware of what his hand was trying to touch until you called him out on it. He watched you closely as you arched your spine back and his eyes caught on the shiny reflection of your belly button ring and he hated to admit he’s a lot more turned on than he thought he would be.

He honestly was just interested in seeing what you wore tonight but he couldn’t even think about that right now when your body looked so appetizing to him. “Have you ever modeled before?”

You had your back to him now as he watched you bend forward and present yourself to him and once again he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching when you showed off your flexibility. You gave him a simple response as your hand came to the back of his neck and your back pressed against his chest to grind on his lap, “No.”

“Would you want to?” He asked in a whisper when you pulled on his neck tie harshly. His suit would have wrinkles now but he does not mind one bit. You laughed softly and he even liked the sound of that more than the music, “No.”

“I’ll pay you for it.”

“You’re paying for this, isn’t that enough?” You asked with your face just an inch away from his that he could feel the heat run between you.

“It’s far more than enough and yet I still want so much more, Venus, I think you would be a perfect model for me,” Taehyung said honestly, “Since the first time I saw you I wanted to see you in my designs.”

“And here I thought you wanted a dance because you found me attractive,” you teased. He was a client of the club and you should just treat him as such but he’s very attractive and he listened to you when you told him not to touch. Most men would still try and catch a feel even after being warned.

Taehyung released a breathy laugh, “Oh I find you absolutely irresistible but I’m sure that’s not something you don’t hear on a regular basis. I think you know your effect on others especially when you dance like this.”

You smiled, content enough that this God of a man found you irresistible, “What kind of model?”

“Lingerie, a boudoir shoot if you will,” Taehyung said but you wanted to play a little longer and his time was almost up.

“Not interested,” you said seductively and though your rejection stung, the way you said it made his growing arousal all the more prominent.

When his time was up he paid for the 140$ fee for a private dance and when he was ready to tip you and give you the money you let him slip it into the waistband of your panties and with that he left. You took out the money, surprised to count a total of 800$ just for you.

“I’ve never wished I had a pussy before in my life.”

You and Hoseok looked at Jungkook completely speechless as the three of you stood around the ivory box that was delivered to the club. It was from your client the other night and when you told Jungkook that he seemed annoyed.

One, he was mad you got tipped so much for a simple dance and second, that you just got a custom lingerie set designed specifically for you by a billionaire. You only know this because he left the Erotes business card there along with a couple hundred more with a note that said, ‘If you’re interested, come visit me.”

“I smell Sugar Daddy in the air,” Hobi finally said after the long silence that followed an envious Jungkook. To be honest, none of you knew much about the company until Jungkook went ahead and searched it up only to find a picture of the man you danced on just a few nights ago tied to an article titled, ‘the newly appointed CEO of Erotes Lingerie, Kim Taehyung.’

They brought your box over from the club and being their nosy selves, they wanted to see what you got.

The two were at your shitty, run down apartment where the three of you have been talking shit about your main boss all day. There’s nothing specifically wrong with the guy other than the fact that’s he’s a fucking cunt who steals from his dancers and never cares for it a man gets too touchy unless Jungkook has to kick them to the curb. You were all just tired of him.

“Go see what he’s gotta say,” Jungkook said with a smirk, “I’ll even drive you there and if he offers you money just remember how supportive your bestie was.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “Should I?”

That’s how you ended up in front of the skyscraper before you. Erotes was your typical gray building on the outside but there were hues of red lights basically oozing out of the window panes. It felt otherworldly and stepping inside felt like you were stepping into an Oasis on Mount Olympus. There were large statues of Greek gods and goddesses of love inside and the red and yellow lights seemed to set the mood in the corporate building. You walked right up to the front desk with absolutely no clue on what to say that you found yourself stuttering.

“Uh, um, can I speak to Kim Taehyung?” You immediately wanted to slap yourself for the way you just asked to see the CEO OF THE COMPANY and clearly the receptionist wanted to do the same considering she looked you up and down unimpressed before looking back to her computer. You waited for her to say something but after a minute or two she looked at you as if confused why you were still standing in front of her desk.

This time you couldn’t help but scoff at her rude behavior and reached into your purse for the card. You slid the business card across her desk and looking annoyed, she picked it up and looked it over. You smiled, “Now can I speak to Kim Taehyung?”

“Not if you don’t have an appointment,” she smiled tightly and you mirrored her expression. “So can you set an appointment then?”

“For what reason?”

“You can ask him when you set the appointment since he’s the one who told me to come here, or I can just leave and the next time I see him I can let him know how I tried to see him but I was refused,” you smiled and with a clenched jaw she finally picked up. You were bluffing because in truth you didn’t know if he would see you again or it he would just give up on whatever he’s trying to gain but it scared her enough to finally call whoever she needed to.

“What’s your name?”

“Venus,” you said, “That's all.” With another look at you from head to toe she muttered the name to the person on the phone and hung up shortly after. She flashed you another fake smile and said, “Alright follow me.”

You went up the elevator to the 100th floor which meant a long and uncomfortable ride with this snobby receptionist who kept glancing at you like she couldn’t understand why the man upstairs wanted to see you and in truth you weren’t sure either. His secretary gave you the same judging look as she knocked on Taehyung’s large office doors and honestly you didn’t get it.

It was clear you weren’t his girlfriend or anything so what was their deal? Unless he was just some rich guy already engaged or married and they knew you weren’t the wife… maybe you should check that, men are trash anyway—especially ones with a lot of money. When the receptionist left with Taehyung’s secretary you awkwardly stood in front of you as she typed away, “He’s in a meeting, go ahead and sit over there.”

With a small huff in annoyance you took a seat at one of the waiting chairs not far from the front desk. There was a stack of lingerie magazines but you didn’t bother going through them as you got on your phone instead to text your closest friends.

you: im too poor to be in here

hobi: did they check ur bank acc and see u only have 2.75$ in there?

you: fuck u

kook: is he wrong tho

you: no

you: anyway idk I’m getting bad vibes from the employees

hobi: ask if they’re libras and if they say yes you better run

kook: true. I don’t trust libras

“It was great seeing you again Tae, we need to get together for drinks like old times.”

You looked up for a split second to watch a beautiful tall blonde leave his office as he held the door open for her. She had sparkles in her eyes that made you want to gag at the thought of ever looking at a man like that. You visibly cringed and looked back down to your phone and waited until he was done.

you: oh god I’m scared. I’m about to go in

kook: remember that he’s just a man

hobi: ^ a very rich one who made u clothes for dancing on him

kook: yes that too

“I’ll have to see if it fits into my schedule,” Taehyung finally said back seemingly unmoved by her flirtatious smile and as he was out the door with her his eyes shifted to you making you look up. He didn’t send another glance her way as he asked, “Ready?”

You released a sigh as you finally got up from the chair and walked past the shocked blonde like you’ve been here before. Being a dancer meant you needed confidence — or at least pretend like you had it — so that’s how you acted most of the time. Also, he’s a member of the club and at the end of the day you’re still just an exotic dancer who doesn’t have a place in this building meeting with the CEO.

Taehyung is a little surprised at the sight of you. Well, for clarification, he had hoped you would take him up on his offer but he’s just surprised to see you outside of your normal dancing attire. It’s not that he expected to see you dressed provocatively out in public but… well you simply just looked pretty. You wore a plain long skirt that fit your body nicely and a plain fitted long sleeve and regular heels. Your hair was even pinned back in a cute way and it caught him off guard. He looked over to his secretary who was pretending not to watch as he held the door, turning the lock for privacy and following you in.

You looked around the space, his single office was bigger than a studio apartment. There was no need to have so much space especially if it was big enough to have an entire statue of aros. It was obnoxious, kind of. You could see Taehyung’s suit hanging on a hook and all he wore was a navy blue button up long sleeve tucked into black slacks and a belt. The sleeves were even rolled up and the tie seemed just a bit loose. He looked at you, “You received my gift already? I thought maybe you would get it tonight.”

“Someone brought it to me,” you told him as you stood behind his large glass coffee table, “Did you not want to see me?”

He released a small scoff, “On the contrary, it’s a pleasant surprise, I am curious to know what you think.”

“About the lingerie? Yeah, you designed it?” You asked. He nodded, “As you can see this is a lingerie company and I’m the new appointed CEO and designer. The only problem is that I can’t seem to find any inspiration for original and unique designs. I actually was made to go to the club and well that’s when I saw you and I’ll admit, you were very captivating and for some reason I was able to visualize you in a set.”

“Really?” You asked, genuinely surprised. You knew you were at least somewhat attractive but you didn’t think it was enough for someone to design something for you. He said it so confidently and professional like this was just some sort of business meeting for him and in truth this is not what you had in mind when he gave you his business card. You assumed he wanted to try and gain something with the lingerie like give him a private show. The only reason why you had come is because of how good of a tip he left you and why he gave you the gift.

“Yes, that’s why I would have liked it if you modeled for me,” Taehyung said as he rounded the table to get closer, “I mean you seem to wear lingerie confidently and from what I can see now is that you also seem confident in ordinary clothes—is that second hand?”

Your jaw nearly dropped as he read you like a book and you looked down, “Yes? How’d you know?”

Taehyung moved on instead of answering, “Did you bring the gift?”

“Yes.”

He looked around you like he would suddenly find the white box he sent his gift in but all he could see was you. So Taehyung couldn’t help but let his eyes run along the length of your body as he came to a realization and his eyes seemed to widen with peaked interest, “Is that so? Would you be willing to show me?”

A small smile to your face as you nodded, “Of course, I thought that was the whole reason why you wanted to see me.”

He watched as you began to strip your clothes from him right there in the middle of his office just letting the clothes fall. You made sure he was watching too and he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. It was exactly how he pictured it would look. He found himself looking around as if the idea of having a woman undress in his office and looking damn good in it was a crime. Not necessarily a crime, but enough to raise questions but he sort of liked that. He locked the door so it’s not like his secretary can barge in and he doesn’t have any meetings till later.

“Well?” You asked completely undressed aside from the lingerie. It was a simple black bodysuit made of lace with embroidered leaf and vines that met over the valley of your breasts down to your navel where the lace didn’t wrap around. The only thing that kept the lace together were those vines down the middle. The straps were made of silk black ribbons that continued into the cups of your breasts where a clip rested in the middle to undo the top. It seemed plain but the lace had small shimmers of glitter that shined the same way your belly button piercing did. It hugged all your curves in the right places and you fit it so well.

Taehyung just nodded, assessing you with a tight lip smile, “Looks amazing.”

“The lingerie?” You questioned even if it was very clear he was talking about that. This man seemed strange to you. You knew people in the fashion world could be eccentric and creative but this was the first guy you’ve ever met more pleased by the lace you wore rather than the body that wore it. Taehyung’s gaze shifted to your face, “No. The wearer.”

He came up to you, finger lightly tracing the silk strap and sliding it under so it grazed your skin too. You tilted your head to the side, an innocent gaze in your eyes as you looked up at him, “Is that all you needed me for? To dress me up?”

Taehyung’s finger traced up toward the curve of your tilted neck and jaw not yet touching but you could feel the heat from it, “Not the only thing, but I’m too tempted to touch you right now and I know that’s off limits.”

“You’re not a guest of the club right now, are you?” You asked softly. Listen, you knew how to play the game. You knew exactly how you should act to have a man entranced and that’s how you get tipped so well. The amount of money he gave you the other night was enough to cover rent and if you had to find a way to make him tip you again, you will. There’s a reason you became a dancer.

“I’m not,” Taehyung softly said back to you, “So what now?”

“Now you sit,” you lightly pushed at his chest until he was walking backward toward the couch. There was no music playing so it felt a bit awkward for you still yet the second you moved closer to him, he took the initiative to guide you onto his lap as you said, “No music? How am I supposed to perform?”

You were teasing him a bit but he didn’t seem to mind as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trace along your ankles toward your thighs, hips, waist, and then linger along your rib cage. Taehyung was too busy looking at your body in his design to care for music, “Do we need it?”

He looked up just as you gave him a smile and said, “Without music it feels too close to sex.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in response. You slowly began to move on his lap and now that he could touch he didn’t hold back. He was still gentle but his hands did come forward to graze your covered breasts before running down the exposed front. You also played with the collar of his navy blue button up, pulling on his tie slowly ready to stop if he wanted you to. “What’s your name?”

“Venu—“

“Your real name,” Taehyung said, feeling his breath hitch when you fully yanked his tie open and pulled him closer. You flashed him a smile that showed the whites of your teeth, “Do you really want to know?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but scoff with a small chuckle, “It’s only fair, you know my name is Kim Taehyung. Now can I know yours?”

“Y/n,” you said as you moved to get off his lap but his strong hand held you in place, not hard enough to feel like he’s forcing you, but enough to know he didn’t want you leaving. You made yourself comfortable once more running your hands up his shirt untucking it and making him look like a complete mess of a CEO. Taehyung just let you too, his hands did move up your rib cage until his thumbs pushed against your breasts but other than that he was letting you lead. Once again it’s like you’re back in the red room with him under you as you perform.

“Y/n,” he repeated as he guided your hips however you moved them. Taehyung will admit, he’s turned on by the whole thing but there’s just no way he couldn’t be, right? You’ve stripped down to what he designed for you, sitting pretty on his lap and he can’t help but want to get closer… it’s only natural.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“22,” you told him and you could see the surprise on his face but you already knew his age since your friends looked him up earlier and you found yourself saying, “But I like them a little older.”

Listen, you have rules as an exotic dancer and performer set for your safety and comfort specifically. You keep things professional when you’re at work and if you run into anyone outside of it you simply act oblivious. You very rarely visit any client unless booked for an event and usually you aren’t alone. You never let them get too touchy or personal yet here you are letting him in all because Taehyung was undeniably attractive and wealthy with some sort of interest in you.

Neither one of you seemed to notice the way you both leaned closer until your lips brushed against his suddenly. Taehyung did pull away as he whispered, “Model for me.”

“I don’t have time,” you whispered back, “I have two jobs.”

There was just a small hint of a kiss but it wasn’t long enough to be worth anything and he said, “I’ll pay better than both.”

You smiled and without much thought into what you were doing, you finally kissed him. Taehyung didn’t need any sort of push to be curling his fingers into your hair and kissing you back deeply. It was an intimate kiss, needy and wet. You had a limp hand on his chest nearly touching his tie and his free hand was down on your thigh. Just as your fingers began to slide toward the buttons of his shirt, a loud ringing cut into the room making you jump in surprise.

Just before you could pull away, Taehyung’s tongue licked along yours drawing a light sound out of you as he chose to ignore the ringing. You figured if he was ignoring it then you would too for the time being and soon enough it stopped.

You pulled away a few seconds later feeling out of breath and hot and he looked the way you felt. Shirt untucked. Tie undone. Hair a mess. Like swollen. Eyes hazy. Jesus, this stranger was beautiful and he didn’t even have to try. Looking down into his eyes it made you snap back into realization. You’ve never gotten so physical with a client before and he’s probably not even going to pay you because there’s no reason for him to, so you're wasting time here. It was cute and fun but it’s over and you should get dressed and move on, right?

Taehyung let you slide off his lap as the phone made you both realize where you were and he tried fixing his own appearance as much as possible. He kept his gaze down when you undressed — knowing the moment was over — for privacy but he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the other job?”

“Waiting on tables,” you told him, slipping your long skirt back on. His brows furrowed, “Really?”

“Why? Is it a surprise?”

“A bit,” he said honestly as you both stood straight looking as organized as you could after what happened. You didn’t give much of a response then, only said, “Alright, I’ve got to go if I want to catch the bus.”

You were looking at the time on your phone not noticing as he left you for a moment only to come back with a checkbook. He didn’t say much as he quickly scribbled away and handed it to you. Your eyes met when he grabbed your hand and made you hold the check.

“This is for today,” Taehyung said, sounding a bit out of it, “Um… I’ve never done anything like this but…” he looked down at the check, “Maybe we can work something out between us. Beneficial to us both.”

You raised a brow as you looked at the number written down on the check, “How so?”

His thumb brushed some hair away from your face and without thinking he leaned further down until your lips never touched but didn’t move closer. You knew he was probably giving you the choice to decide if you want to do it or not and you reached up to kiss him. His hand was firm against your cheek and kept you in place as he pulled back and ran his tongue across his lower lip, “Like this.”

“Truthfully, I don’t have time to go out with someone and personally I don’t want to. I have a lot of work to do and being in a relationship is not something I want right now but,” Taehyung kissed you again when you didn’t pull back, “I want to be able to do this.”

You smiled, pulling back, “You can find any woman who would die to be with you even if it’s for one night.”

“I can,” Taehyung said in agreement, “But I want you. You won’t push me for a relationship, would you?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then let me spoil you with whatever you want and in exchange—“

“Let you have me?” You asked and he nodded his head.

Taehyung was attractive.

He was wealthy and respectful.

There is no doubt in your mind that every woman he comes across wants him yet…

For some reason he would rather have a give and take relationship with no ties and he only wants it with you. It might even free up a little bit of your time too. You finish one job only to go to another that very same night. You’ve been trying to pay off college debt and other things too so money always seemed to be an issue. You don’t mind dancing, you actually enjoy it and that’s where your friends were. You would have to cut back time at the restaurant—it seems like you’ve already made your decision.

“Give me your number then,” you said. It was a short contact information exchange and just as you reached the door with Taehyung behind you, there was a loud knock against it.

The second he opened it, your eyes fell to the secretary who worked right outside his office. You watched the way her eyes seemed to narrow as she found you back in your sweater and long skirt — completely unaware of what was underneath. Taehyung turned to you, “Let’s connect later tonight, I’ll give you a call. Miss Jia, please call a cab for my guest before telling me whatever was so urgent you had to interrupt us more than once.”

The secretary looked stunned before nodding her head and running back to the desk giving you one last dirty look.

As strange as this might sound, you had no idea what to expect the last time you had seen Mr. Kim. You understood what he had implied and in the moment you wanted the same but now as you’re reading over the contract he’s had printed out for you, it all was beginning a little too real. It wasn’t long but the words felt like they just went on forever and ever and he looked at you like he was waiting for you to have some sort of question. It was nothing more than a non disclosure agreement and you understand what it’s for but it all felt just a little bizarre. You’re not put off by it by any means, you’ve signed a few as a dancer, but this will include sexual acts—things like what you did in his office and much more… did you really not mind doing this? Even if it felt a little like signing your freedom away.

Maybe you were just worrying too much, it’s not like you were looking for a real relationship and at least this way you’ll get money and your sexual needs dealt with from an ungodly attractive man.

“Is everything alright?” Taehyung asked once the silence had gone on for too long, “If this is not something you’re interested in then…”

“It’s not that,” you held the paper up and looked over at him from across the long stretch of dining table between you, “I thought this all started because you wanted me to model for you. There’s nothing about that here?”

Taehyung just looked at you, the corner of his lips turning upward as he smirked, “Well this contract is just between us two, I figured if you wanted to stop busting tables or dancing, I could hire you on as a model the legal way.”

You released a laugh, “And have to deal with seeing all of your prissy employees more often? Probably having to work with them? No, thank you.”

His eyes hardened as he watched you eye the contract. Before he could ask you what changes you would like him to make to get you to agree, you picked up the pen and quickly signed your name. A small smile came to his face as you slid the white sheet over to him and he quickly signed in his own name without a single ounce of hesitation, looking up at you with that same dark gaze you’re used to seeing before he gets his hands on you.

After dinner, you got into the back of Taehyung’s G-wagon with him following suit, ordering his driver to take you both back to his penthouse. You couldn’t help but smirk, “Are we starting so soon?”

Taehyung only smirked back as he stared out his window but you watched the way he loosened his tie with one hand, “This is soon to you, dear? After the day in my office?”

You’ve grown slightly accustomed to the deep mess of his face and the seductive way it sounded when it was just the two of you and you couldn’t help but reach over the back seat and press your face against his neck, breathing softly as you said, “You just don’t seem as eager yet.”

He turned to look at you, tongue running along his lips like he was ready to devour you and before he could utter out a single word, he felt your lips on his neck, kissing softly and making his eyes shut for a second. Once the shock had worn off he couldn’t help but look toward the rear view mirror where his driver was trying so damn hard not to stare back and catch sight of your arched back and short dress riding up with the way you stood on your hands and knees on the backseat, just kissing his neck teasingly. Taehyung brought an arm around to run a hand along your back, just keeping you close before turning his neck to capture your lips with his, and just like that the two of you were making out the entire drive to his home.

He blames it on all the teasing you did every time you would meet for his impatience. He’s felt your body on his, he’s touched your lips and stared at you as you stripped for him, it’s not his fault he couldn’t wait much longer to get to the real thing.

You barely had time to take in the sight of the hundred story building of luxury apartments before you when Taehyung was already pushing you through the front door and into the empty elevator. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, dragging him close and kissing him once more. He kissed back with such eagerness to feel all of you, hands holding your sides like his life depended on it, not wanting you to slip away.

His penthouse was huge, straight out of a movie and when you walked in it even echoed with each step you took.

“Welcome home si—“ a woman’s voice died on the spot and you couldn’t help but squeal at the thought of being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. The two of you both turned to look at her, Taehyung holding you by the waist to keep you pressed against his front and you took the chance to get a good look at her.

She was dressed in a stiff pencil skirt with a gray blouse tucked into it. Her hair was in a tight bun and she wore black flats. She looked like house staff to you but you’re not sure, all you know is that she’s just as surprised to see you as you are at her. Taehyung released a deep sigh, clearly displeased, “Did I not tell you to head out early today?”

His voice was stern and authoritative, no room to argue and she looked genuinely scared like she would lose her job or something. You pulled away from Taehyung nervously but he didn’t let you get far as he kept his hold on you, waiting for the cleaning lady to leave and she did so rather quickly, not shying away from looking at you in confusion.

It wasn’t until she was scurrying out the door that you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked around, “What? Do you not have guests over often?”

“Not like you, no,” Taehyung said as he stood behind you, slipping the strap of your dress off your shoulder before placing a kiss on it, “Not as pretty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared up at the large chandelier above you, “So you only bring home ugly women?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckled as he slipped his hand off your shoulder to your wrist, pulling you along toward his room once more, “We’ve been over this before, I don’t have the energy nor time to deal with romantic partners, and we don’t just pick up any woman off the street and bring her to my home.”

“No,” you teased stepping into his room, “Only women you meet when they dance on you half naked.”

He smirked now, watching as you began to slip your dress off only a couple steps ahead of him walking toward his king sized bed of satin sheets. He couldn’t help but begin to remove his blazer, undoing his tie too as your dress fell at your feet. He slowly began to unbutton his shirt, unable to keep his eyes off when you bent down by the waist to undo your heels, ass in perfect display for his eyes only, “My apologies for having taste.”

Once he was fully undressed he walked straight to you, pushing you onto the bed and taking you by surprise. You quickly turned on your back using your elbows to sit up as you watched him began to crawl between your legs still fully dressed but clearly on his way to change that.

"God, your body is so fucking hot," he said in a low growl as he took in the sight of you on his bed. He’s always thought this since the second he saw you on stage and now he has you in his sheets looking at only him and he couldn’t help but allow himself to let his eyes roam down your body.

You bit your lip as you felt his hands begin to slide along your stomach toward your breasts. A small smirk came to your face as he stopped, looking straight down at the center of your breasts and once he realized, he couldn’t stop his fingers from moving. Taehyung released a small chuckle as he held the small clip that rested right between the mounds of your boobs, “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Obviously,” you said with a small moan as he tugged harshly on the clasp, quickly undoing it and your boobs practically spilled out as your bra fell. He smiled, “Like my own little present.”

Taehyung did not hesitate to dip down and place a kiss on your collarbone, hands cupping your bare tits now and holding the weight of them against his palm. You released a breathy sigh of hen he sucked harshly on your skin leaving a line of red live marks trails toward your boobs until finally he was mouthing at your left nipple, tugging at it softly with his teeth and letting out a quiet groan himself.

He’s ashamed to admit how turned on he was just at the sight of your tits in his face, he’s imagined what they look like under your lingerie but right now you’re laying bare beneath him letting him lavish you in wet and sloppy kisses.

“I need you to take this off,” You told him as he licked along your nipple and slowly began to tug at his shirt. He just smirked sitting up in his knees, “Take it off me.”

You did just that, ripping the buttons open and tugging hard enough to make his body move toward you with his lips parted, turned in by how rough you pulled on him. His eyes fell to your nimble hands as they yanked open the top button of his slacks and undid the zipper, brows scrunching together, “Hurry up.”

He let out a soft laugh at your impatience, nodding his head as he flung the shirt off and quickly got off the bed to kick his slacks off too. He stood there in his Versace briefs, dick print evident and it only made you smirk when you saw how hard he was. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Just for me?”

He picked up on your teasing tone similar to the one he used when he asked if you wore the front clip bra earlier. He brought a hand down to his dick, palm running over it, feeling the weight of his bulge, unbelievably hard, “Do you want it?”

You spread your legs even further apart, “Give it to me, Mr. Kim.”

You said the last part in a mocking tone, remembering the way his employees always referred to him as and he just big his lip, crawling back between them and dipping down to kiss you. You welcome his kiss happily, his body pressed against yours and dick snuggly between your legs rutting against your covered pussy for any sort of friction he could get. Your tongue snuck into his mouth, wet and sticky as it swirled around his and a line of drool connected the two when he pulled away from the kiss till only your tongues kissed.

“Are you going to fuck me yet or make me wait?” You asked with your arms wrapped around his neck, hips grinding against his clothed cock, “I’m already so wet for you.”

Taehyung released a low groan at your dirty words when he felt your hands slide down toward his briefs and begin to tug them down on your own accord.

“Horny girl,” he said deeply as he reached down to tug on your underwear, a tearing sound heard clearly and your na dropped in surprise but he just smirked, “I’ll design you a new pair, love, a million of them for every new set I ruin.”

“That’s a big promise, Taehyung,” you said watching him reach into the drawer in his nightstand for a condom. Taehyung just smirked, “A promise I could keep.”

Taehyung knew he should give your pussy some affection, maybe get you stretched out before he completely impaled you with his cock but as he looked down at the gap of your entrance and the way your slick pooled inside it, he wondered if you would even need it. Your lips parted in surprise at the weight of his cock sliding between your folds coating him in your arousal, teasingly grinding against you until his tip bumped into your clit, “Want my cock, pretty girl?”

His hair was all out of place and his lips swollen from how hard he bit his bottom lip, waiting for you to nod

Your hips were becoming restless, “Give it to me.”

Taehyung smirked finally taking his cock in hand and guided his tip toward your entrance and before he could even attempt to push in, your hands were pulling at his hips and with a low groan, he sank into your heat in one go. You both moaned against each other as his hips fell against yours and unable to stop himself, he laid his body flush over yours, moaning against your chest, “Oh fuck.”

He’ll be honest and say he can’t remember the last time he had the chance to be in a tight wet pussy but he does remember that it didn’t feel like this. It was probably fast and unsatisfactory, just a way for him to release whatever stress he had at the moment. This… this was all just so fucking good, the teasing that led up to this, the dancing, the lingerie, all of it.

"Please fuck me,” you breathed out as he finally began to move and you wrapped your legs around his waist only for him to bring his arms around the underside of your knees and drag your legs up toward your chest. Your pussy stretched wider in the new position as he began to thrust, cock pushing in and out of your wet cunt with low moans leaving his lips.

Your hands clawed at his back and it made his eyes roll with the burn of each scratch, veins in his arms protruding as he made sure that you didn’t move your legs from the position he put you in and fucked you in a mating press that had you releasing moan after moan, head tossed back into the pillows in complete ecstasy.

“Such a good pussy,” Taehyung licked his lips but his mouth felt so dry, fucking you hard with his dick, “Fuck baby, haven’t had pussy this good in so long.”

“Good thing it’s yours,” you moaned, as he rocked his hips into yours roughly. His back muscles tensing with each powerful thrust and he growled, “Show me then.”

You didn’t need any explanation to know what he wanted and you were a bit thankful to relieve your sore legs from this position as he rolled onto his back with you on top.

"So good," you moaned loudly, when his hand groped a handful of your ass digging his nails in with small grunts every time your thighs smacked his. If he thought you were a flexible dancer, nothing compared to the way you split your legs open for him, bouncing on his cock using him like he was just another client of yours watching you perform. He didn’t mind that one but especially now that he could touch and he didn’t hold back from lifting his hand only to smack your ass hard enough to make you whine at the pain. Your hair fell to one side and your hand rested on his chest, riding him like your life depended on it just enjoying the depth his cock went into your cunt, “You’re so big.”

“Mhm,” he moaned in agreement, it was one of his proudest achievements and it had him pushing his upper body up to sit, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and fucking up into you in this new position. Unable to hold himself back he dropped forward, your back hitting the opposite end of his bed instead of how you had originally been when your head was against the pillow. He quite literally made you switch to the other side just so he could be on top again but his hands never left your ass even as they got trapped between your body and the bed, “Am I fucking you good?”

"Mhm,” you whined softly, “I’m gonna—oh fuck, Taehyung.”

He only growled in response, drilling his cocking into you fully allowing himself to lose all sensibility and just do what he’s been wanting to do since he saw you in his lingerie—just fuck you roughly like he knew you were a slut for.

“You a slut for me?” He asked and you surprisingly nodded your head making him kiss along your neck, “Say it.”

“Wanna be your slut,” you moaned, nails scratching along his back as he just pounded the fuck out of you with his big dick, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“My slut gonna cum?” He asked in a whispered voice, feeling your legs shake and he just knew you couldn’t hold on any longer, "Cum for me then.”

“Oh my go—“ your words died in your throat when he swallowed your mouth with his, giving you the nastiest kiss you’ve ever had and just like that, the knot in your stomach came undone just as he came in his condom. He released a low growl into your mouth as he felt the flood of your release around him, pussy tightening and he physically began to shake through his orgasm.

You’re not sure how much time had passed with his cock still stuffed inside you and once the two of you both came down, he was finally pulling out of you with a tired groan, “Goddamn.”

You were both covered in sweat as he fell to your side and released a sigh, “Fuck, that was good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still out of breath as you attempted to sit up, “Bathroom?”

Taehyung pointed toward the door in the corner of his bedroom letting you go on your own to clean up. As you left you wondered what would happen now. Were you supposed to leave now? Was he at least going to call you an Uber or have his driver take you home? As you finished up, you decided you would ask him, you will pick up your dress and pray it wasn’t torn like your underwear and just leave with your dignity in tact.

When you stepped into the bedroom it was empty, you looked around in shock and feeling the insecurity of being completely bare after rough sex was too much to handle and you picked up your dress, wincing a little at the soreness between your legs.

Just as you were getting ready to pull the dress on, a warm hand touched your shoulder blade, moving your hair out of the way and your breath hitched. Taehyung pressed a soft kiss along your neck, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t you want me to leave?” You asked looking fully convinced it was what he wanted until he hugged you from behind, hand caressing your arm until he laced your fingers together, “What I want you to do is get your pretty self back in bed.”

You couldn’t help but blush, not sure how to handle the tenderness in his voice and touch. Usually after sex the guy would barely pay you any mind, basically toss you to the side even if it was your boyfriend but Taehyung only pulled you back into bed.

“I’m cold,” you said in a soft voice, suddenly feeling a bit more pliant to get in bed with him. Taehyung just smiled as he lifted the covers, “Then come lay down and let me warm you up.”

“I didn’t expect the CEO to be soft after how hard you fucked me,” your words were blunt and yet he still smiled pulling you into his side to cuddle.

“I was just giving you what you asked for, I’m not a monster, Y/n,” as he said that he pressed a hand to your hip, rubbing the part that was sore from all the positions he had you in, “If I was too rough, just tell me.”

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” you snuggled against him, letting him sooth the pain in your muscles as you rested a head on his chest. You brought a leg up around his waist and he hugged you close, “Good, but don’t think I’m letting you leave this bed anytime soon. I want to hold you to make up for all the marks I left.”

“Fine,” you yawned against him, “I’m tired anyway.”

Hoseok could not hide the look of shock on his face the next time he saw you. You wore an expensive silver diamond necklace, “You actually did it.”

It didn’t take him long to figure out what happened, especially when you grinned teasingly, “I did, and let me just say, oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?” Jungkook asked, coming over. The club has yet to open yet so the only people around were employees and that meant you could all hang around before actually having to do anything. That’s how a bartender, a body guard, and an exotic dancer, found yourselves sitting in a private booth having a very private discussion.

All you had to do was give Jungkook the look for him to examine you curiously, eyes widening at the sight of what adorned your neck, “You screwed the rich guy?!”

You nodded, not all offended by his crass tone, knowing he was just caught off guard, “He was so… so… listen, I’m not in love but wow.”

“That good, huh?” Hoseok asked before looking at Jungkook, “I wondered if I’ve ever been good enough to brag to her friends like this after just one night.”

You gave him a feigned pitied expression, “You’re about seven figures short of being that good.”

He playfully glared at you as he said, “Money doesn’t make up for ability.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed with his equally broke friend, “Quality over quantity.”

Your brows furrowed wondering if he used the phrase right but unable to create a concrete thought on it, you decided to move on, “Well I guess Taehyung just happens to be lucky enough to have both.”

“So how does this work?” Hoseok asked, deciding to just change the subject before you destroy his ego any more than you already have, “Did he just toss cash out on the counter and leave or did he stay and do all that lovey dovey shit for shits and giggles?”

Despite your two best friends being guys, you all felt extremely comfortable discussing your sex lives. When you first started working for the club you thought they were so fucking hot that you would explode right on the spot if they even looked at you… now you can only see them as friends who know way too much about your sex life and vise versa… You did not need to know about the time Jungkook got head wearing nothing but his stupid toe socks.

Taehyung didn’t throw cash at you. You had originally thought he had wanted you to leave once you were done but he went as far as pulling you back in bed and made sure you stayed till morning when he had a driver drop you off back home.

You shook your head no, “No, I didn’t leave till morning when he was getting ready to leave. He let me sleep in when he left and when I woke up a check was laying under this necklace.”

“Should I get myself a sugar mama?” Jungkook asked in all seriousness but the girl dancing on the stage was done and you wanted to practice a new dance.

You shrugged as you stood, “Good luck finding one.”

“Sir,” his secretary Jia knocked in his door lightly, “Ms. Choi is here to see you.”

It took him a second to respond as he looked at her slightly displeased. She knows by now that unless he has an appointment with her, he does not want her just storming into his building. It was very obviously too late when Yuna was letting herself in following the secretary, the familiar blonde hair tied back with a hair clip.

“Do you have an appointment?” Taehyung asked from the comfort of his desk chair. She rolled her eyes at him, “Come on Tae, since when did I need an appointment to see you?”

“Since always,” he said, not bothering to rise from behind his desk, “You just never listen.”

With a small huff in annoyance, she plopped down on his couch, “Well, I just wanted to know who the girl was last time I was here. She didn’t have an appointment either.”

Taehyung seemed to stiffen. He absolutely hated when she asked too many questions like she had the right to know. It’s been heard and he still doesn’t understand how she can’t get the hint that he’s just not interested in her. He does not care that they’re family friends. He does not care that their parents would prefer them to marry. He just does not care about her beyond a friendly view. He enjoys being her friend and he’ll always be on her side but she also needs to know her place—which isn’t next to him.

“But I was expecting her,” Taehyung said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate on what he meant.

Jia just continued like he hadn’t said anything, “Who is she anyway? I didn’t peg you as the type to like them so young.”

“A few years never hurt anyone,” Taehyung said, looking down at his phone to see you finally responded to his last text.

taehyung: I’ve got dinner plans but I’m free after. are u?

you: nope, I’ve gotta work at the club tn and u left me a bit sore :/

He couldn’t help but smirk, lip pulled between his teeth as he remembered last night. The two of you were rough, aroused from the get go and he was not able to hold back. You told him not to so in the end he didn’t and now you’re sending him a picture of a small bruise he left on your hip. He was tempted to show you the scratch mark you left on his shoulder blade from clawing at his back.

He ran his thumb across his lips, unable to stop himself from noticing the red lingerie you wore and he knew you would be performing tonight. It was late in the evening and he did have dinner plans but he’s sure he can move it around… maybe.

taehyung: tomorrow?

you: working at the restaurant till close

Jia watched him completely ignore that she was even there and it was starting to really annoy her. She knows that they’re not dating and they most likely never will but she just doesn’t get it. Does he realize how many guys think he’s lucky just for her considering him?

“So are you two dating or is she just an easy lay?” Jia couldn’t help but ask and that barely got his attention enough to glare at her.

“Careful Jia, you’re beginning to sound bitter and I hate bitter women,” Taehyung said with a deep gaze that had her biting her tongue, “Now is there anything you need or did you just come to complain?”

He looked back down to his phone as he typed back a response.

taehyung: I’ll see u before u gotta go

you: what about ur work?

taehyung: I’m boss. I can do whatever I want

“That’s all,” Jia said, plastering a forced smile on her face and rising to her feet, “Just wanted to know who the slut was.”

That made Taehyung snap, “Go ahead and walk your ass out, Jia, I don’t want you coming back here until you learn how to act.”

Taehyung will never deny how much of a classist he really was deep down. Maybe not to the extent as his friends but when he stepped into your apartment he had become very aware of your financial situation. It wasn’t a studio apartment but pretty damn close and just being in there made him feel a bit suffocated. The whole place had to be about the size of his office.

“Are you judging?” You asked, arms crossed over your chest and hip popped out just slightly. Even knowing you were giving him attitude, he couldn't help but smile and say, “Only slightly.”

He just wanted to see if he would get a reaction. You scoffed, “Well sorry not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouths and a lingerie empire just handed to us.”

Normally Taehyung would get annoyed if someone said that to him, he’s very aware of his privilege but it annoyed the hell out of him when his own wealthy friends would say it. Instead of getting frustrated he just shrugged, “I’m just saying, two jobs and this is all you get? I could help y’know.”

“I don’t need a handout,” you told him even if it sounded a bit hypocritical. You know he’s giving you money but that was different, it was like a job that you got to enjoy too. He was very attractive and he was really good in bed, plus he’s lavished you with gifts every day of this week and yes you’ve allowed yourself to be spoiled but for him to offer help for an apartment? Now that was a bit too much, even for you.

Taehyung only smirked as he stood in front of you now, hand sliding under the waistline of your short skirt, “Who said anything about a handout?”

You rolled your eyes even as you let him begin to kiss down your neck, “I’ve got to work in an hour.”

“Plenty of time,” he muttered against your skin, “I just want a taste anyway.”

There was something about a rich, attractive man desperate to touch you that always had you smiling. Taehyung was slowly dropping to his knees and kissing down your clothed sides, raising your shirt to move it out of his way, “And if you quit the restaurant it’ll free up a lot of time for us, you know I can give you more anyway.”

“Yeah?” You asked teasingly, “And what about when you get tired of me?”

His fingers found their way under your skirt and pulled at your underwear, a smile on his face, “Tired of this? Never.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” you bit your lip as he disappeared under your skirt, placing soft kisses along your thigh getting closer and closer to your heat.

Taehyung’s hands circled to the back of your thighs, going higher and until he was groping your hurt, nose brushing against your bare pelvis leaving teasing touches that had your breath hitching. He kissed your mouth doing everything to avoid the space between your legs and you were struggling not to move away from his hold. You were standing in the middle of your living room with no back support whatsoever. Your hand snuck under your skirt to move it held a firm grip on his hair.

Just before you could hurry him along, a breathy sigh left your lips when he pressed a tentative kiss on your hood clit feeling the way it began to rise with arousal. The single kiss became two and finally his tongue was slipping between the folds to lick it directly, feeling it harden. He looked up at you from between your legs urging you to move closer to his face with his hands on your butt pushing you into him and you had to spread your legs even further to do so. Taehyung sat prettily on his knees just under you, his tongue flattening against your slit, licking up the pool of wetness you were protruding rather quickly. You had to bite back your lip to hold in a moan and his brows scrunched together in displeasure. You hissed at the feel of his nails sinking into the softness of your ass in warning, “Don’t hold back on me. I wanna hear you.”

You barely had a chance to nod your head in response when he dug his face even further into your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your slick before traveling the tip of it all the way up to your clit and flicking it a couple times, the hard nub covered in his spit. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan as you failed to pull your hips away from the pleasure with his hands holding you in place.

Your hand tightened in his hair when his tongue curled inside your pussy traveling between your folds until he was swirling it around your hardened clit once more. He wrapped his lips around the small nub, sucking softly while his tongue continued to flick the tip of it, meaning around your clit when you pulled on his hair. You were completely soaking his chin but that did not stop Taehyung from making out with your clit, hands keeping you upright so he could eat you out to his heart’s content.

"Oh god," you moaned as he moved a little rougher now, never once easing up on your clit and mouth open as he fucked you with his tongue. Taehyung knew he was on a time limit because you had to get ready for your shit too so he was doing everything he can to make you cum soon. Your jaw went slack at the sudden rough feeling of his two front teeth just barely applying pressure to your clit teasingly and you felt your legs begin to shake. You repeated yourself, “Oh god, Tae, I’m gonn—“

He licked along your swollen folds, lighting tugging on them with his teeth, not enough to hurt but enough for you to jolt in surprise and you were damn near rutting against his face, ducking your pretty pussy into his wainting mouth.

Taehyung didn’t need a verbal sign to know you were at your breaking point, he could practically feel the way your cunt twitched and just like that, his mouth was being flooded with your released and like a starved man, he happily licked it up.

“Good girl,” he said softly but in his usual deep voice as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mound before dropping your skirt back down and caressing your thighs as he stood up.

From the look the secretary had given you, you just know she was very displeased to see you again. You’re not sure if it’s because she felt like she had a chance with Taehyung or maybe she just doesn’t think you’re good enough for her employer, but she never failed to have a scowl in her face when you walked in, this time sporting a long Prada coat that reached down to your mid-thigh.

Once again you were here and her boss failed to tell her he had an appointment with you and she’s started to realize what your relationship is with him. You just know in her head she’s saying every word she can to make you seem like a slut but frankly, you didn’t care. You were here in business today… real business.

Okay, well, still with your body but it was different today.

When you got in his office he immediately locked the door and pressed a kiss to your lips in greeting. You whined when the camera around his neck dug into your chest but he smiled as he pulled away, “Let me see.”

“Eager?” You asked, “Take this off me then.”

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to do just that. He pulled in the tie in the front and practically yank off the coat he bought you, eyes scanning your body with his usual lustful gaze.

“You know, you should make your lingerie more affordable,” you said to him as he bid his lip at the sight before him. You were wearing white today with satin ribbons and sheer lace. You put on some body shimmer too and you just looked like a little present for him to unwrap. It was another custom design for you aside from the garter belt you added for a nice touch. Taehyung just nodded as he pulled you by the hand toward the couch, “I’ll look into it.”

He directed you to lay down, a hand down your back as he moved you however he wanted you to be. Today would be a different sort of touching, he was only making you pose however he liked on the expensive couch of his. He had you on your stomach, butt slightly raised making your back arched and he framed your hair around your face perfectly. You rested a side of your face on the couch with an arm stretched out behind you and the other tucked under your chin.

He took a step back, raising the camera up for him to get a good view and that’s how it started. Taehyung looked so fucking hot as he snapped picture after picture of you in whatever pose he liked. He wore his usual white button up but it looked completely messed up. The top three buttons were undone exposing his chest, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a slight mess. He looked like a sleazy photographer even if he was anything but.

Remember in the beginning when he asked you to model for him and you just kept saying no? Well, there was a change of plans because now you’re in his office doing just that and modeling for him. You don’t even know how he finally convinced you because this was definitely something you weren’t used to. Obviously you were confident in yourself when it came to dancing or putting on a show for Taehyung but to have yourself photographed for others to see? That felt a bit much.

Still, he asked you and you said yes so now here you are listening to his words of assurance, “You look so good, baby.”

Of course with his words you were able to get more into it and did your own poses that had him smiling, “Such a pretty girl.”

“How many more?” You asked as you laid on your side and Taehyung took more close ups of the material. He sighed, “Almost done.”

It went on for a few more minutes till you were beginning to get fed up and Taehyung knew it.

“I’ve got something for you,” Taehyung said as the shoot came to an end and you watched him head toward his desk as you reached into your bag and changed into real clothes. You only came in the coat earlier because you knew he would like to take it off you but now that you’re done and you had work, you had to change. You watched him curiously as he came over to you with a yellow enveloped and a smile on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion as you took the envelope and opened it.

Taehyung watched your eyes widen with a smile on his face as you skimmed the document, hearing a small jangle and turning it over to drop the last of its content into your palm.

“What’s this?”

“Papers to your new apartment,” Taehyung said as you examined the key, “It’s in your name and fully paid. I’ve signed a contract that covers all the added bills even if you and I happen to fall out.”

“Why’d you do this?” You asked as you looked at the picture of the apartment building. He shrugged, “Call me greedy but I want to spend more time with you and I want you to leave the restaurant, at least. This way you won’t have to worry about making more if I’ve covered your student debt and your housing.”

You just looked at him, unsure how to feel because this all was too much but at the same time you weren’t completely put off by it. You couldn’t comprehend why he would go as far as putting it in your name because then he won’t be able to take it away if you two end.

He didn’t expect you to be jumping in glee but your silence worried him a bit and he had to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of you to talk, “Sign it and it’s yours, baby, if you want it.”

He handed you a pen and like before when you signed the NDA, you signed the contract wordlessly after reading through it all. He couldn’t help himself, happy to spoil someone with goods and pulled you into him with a hand behind your head and a kiss on your lips.

“You’re spoiling me too much,” you said between kisses and he only smiled.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” He said, making you laugh softly. When you pulled away you checked the time, eyes widening, “I’ve got to get to work.”

Taehyung released a low groan in a whine, “Noooo.”

You smiled, “How else am I supposed to resign?”

That made him smile and finally, he walked you to the door, “We’ll work out a move-in day and I’ll hire a moving truck so you don’t have to lift a single finger.”

You said your goodbyes and like before he ordered his secretary to call you a cab and promised to see you tonight.

Just after you left, Taehyung called his secretary in holding a flash card in his hand, “I need you to go get these printed, I don’t care how much it costs and if they tell you they can’t fit it in, offer them more. I want these by the end of tonight.”

By late evening Taehyung had what he wanted and a worker was in to install all over his office. There were beautiful black and white photographs, high quality and with a nice depth of field with shadows in all the right places. He purposely did not include your face in a single shot per your request but at least he got to admire the pretty body of yours he gets to touch.

The one above his desk was his absolute favorite, a four foot picture of your breasts clad in the pretty white lingerie wearing his gold Cartier tiger necklace that stopped perfectly at the start of your cleavage, right between them. He looked at it proudly as it looked against the wall behind his desk, distracted by it to the point that he didn’t hear his friend storm into his office with a loud gasp.

“Holy shit,” Jimin did a full 360 as he took in the new art work in his office. Aside from the huh one he had about four others of you in various poses. One was just your arched back, another of your thighs, one with your hand grazing your side and finally, another of his favorite, a pretty view of your belly button ring where he oh so kindly wrote his signature down right next to it with a heart.

“Who’s the new model and is she single?” Jimin asked, smirk on his face as he watched his friend turn to him, clearly displeased.

Jimin wasn’t used to seeing Taehyung like this. Taehyung was always put together and never really let his emotions show. Even if there would come the rare chance when he would be in a relationship he was always private about it but not like this. Jimin has no clue who the person in the pictures was and he was unaware of the NDA you and Taehyung signed. In truth, Taehyung shouldn't even have these pictures in display for anyone who walks into his office to see but he’s not taking them down. The rules of the contract are slowly leaving his head and he’s wondering if the same is happening to you.

Taehyung looked back at the pictures adoringly, “Don’t worry about it, she’s all mine.”

::.

idk how I feel about this 😭💀um hopefully it wasn’t horrible idk man fr. also I’ll probs add more to their relationship in short drabbles

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 8

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, hurt , language, PTSD, mention of drugs, mention of torture

Word Count: 4674

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

You asked Ben again, “What did you do to those people?” while he continued to look at your furious and angered look.

He avoided watching the news and simply replied in a dry voice, “I didn't mean to hurt them. Everything happened so quickly.”

Despite your hopes that, after all this time, he would change a little, you came to the conclusion that his appearance was the only thing that had changed. He was the same guy who hurt everyone around him like they were just insects, never thinking twice about it. He remained the same merciless man who just cared about himself.

You were too ignorant to believe that it was Crimson Countess had drastically changed him, but this was simply another lie you told yourself in defense of Ben's behavior. It was just who he really was.

You talked softly while Butcher continued to watch TV, “How can you even stay the same after all the things that happened to you?”

“I killed the doctor who hurt and tortured you. You already knew; whatever I did for him, he deserved it,” he angrily said, gesturing to you as though he were doing you a favor and somehow trying to convince you.

“Should I feel like a graduate and thank you?” You questioned him bitterly, glaring at him. “You are the reason I spent decades being imprisoned and subjected to torture in vain. You are the reason I am currently homeless and the state's number two foe. How come you're still so blind and self-centered?”

Ben grumbled, “Calm down, baby,” ignoring your inquiries as he roughly grabbed the remote control out of Butcher's hand and flicked through the channels. “We can talk about things at a later time. For now, take a moment to rest.”

Ben continued to stare at the TV and shifted on the couch in an attempt to make himself more comfortable, so you replied, “Don't call me 'baby.'”

“It looks like Tony Montana is going to bed alone tonight.” With a cunning grin, Butcher attempted to reclaim the remote control from Ben's grasp. “Also, don’t be dramatic and so upset, you have a place to stay, you’re not homeless.”

“Tony Montana—who the fuck is he?” Ben muttered, pushing Butcher's hands a little too hard while refusing to give up the remote control. “I’m in charge in here. What I watch, you'll watch too.”

“Hey, you remember our deal, don't you? I'm hoping you won't back down.”

You turned to Butcher and questioned, “What deal?” with a confused gaze on your face when he suddenly started speaking in a serious and mysterious tone.

Ben stepped in immediately and shot Butcher a quick glance, saying, “It's not so important.”

“All right, there's nothing to worry about. Your teammate just promised me that he would help me kill a cunt named Homelander.”

Ben kept shooting Butcher with a deadly look as he immediately spilled the beans.

“I'm not worried about anything,” you cut Butcher off abruptly, averting Ben's tough stare. “Whatever he's up to, he's alone in this. But tell me, what’s deal about.”

“Sweetheart, I don't need your help anyway. You simply stay at home and take care of things while you chill,” Ben said in an amused way, attempting to hide his tiny sense of hurt that came from your coldness.

He didn't intend to include anything that would distress you further, but he couldn't stop remembering the times you supported and fought alongside him. He would never ask you to get involved in the Homelander situation, though, since he knows you've already been through a lot of terrible things. He was also too proud to accept your assistance.

Turning to face you, Butcher added, “You don’t have to be so ruthless. He made the deal to get help from me to save you.”

Butcher believed that, given Homelander's strength, helping him would be beneficial and that it would be great if you would just soften and offer a helping hand. Butcher knew Soldier Boy would be happy to let you fight alongside him, as he was aware that he took your suit from Legend. You were once the strongest superwoman, after all, and he would have a better chance of finally killing Homelander.

Hughie, thankfully, returned to join you with a meal in his hands before you could ask Butcher any more questions. You were so hungry that you didn't even realize it until you smelled pizza. It was all about pleasure, yet even if you starved for decades, you wouldn't die.

Hughie smiled hesitantly and said, “Sorry, I didn't ask you before ordering, but I hope you're okay with pizza.” It's likely that he was the only decent person in the room. You wondered why this person was willing to work with a man like Butcher. He gave off an air of deception.

“Of course it's okay,” you said as soon as you smelled it. You then gave him a graditude look and said, “Thanks a lot.”

Ben quickly got up, tossed the remote control in Butcher's face, and grabbed the pizza from Hughie's hands as he sat next to you before you could move. Ben stepped closer, spreading his legs a little and making contact with your thighs, but you put some distance between you two right away. You didn’t understand why he was acting like that out of the blue, but you didn’t ask anything.

None of you spoke, even though you felt Ben's gaze briefly lingering on you. Although you were unsure of what Ben truly wanted from you, you were determined to learn from your past mistakes. Therefore, it was best to clarify it for him as well.

Upon seeing Noir's visual on TV, you exclaimed in shock, “Is Noir still working for Vought?”

That was the moment you understood. Earving never came to save you. If he just wanted to, you knew he could and would find you. You could understand why he might not have wanted to take the risk of going through the same things with you if he had a legitimate reason for not saving you. You had no right to be selfish. However, you were certain that you would behave differently if he were in your place. You therefore couldn't help but feel a little let down.

Ben angrily remarked, “Of course he does,” as he watched you devour the pizza. “He wouldn't even take his shit without the permission of Vought. Fucking traitor. He didn't even give a fuck about the things you went through all those years. I had no doubts that he was going to abuse your friendship. There was always something sneaky about him.”

You couldn’t left out a small hiss as Ben started to talk about loyalty.

“All right,” you replied, casting him a piercing glance. “I got used to being betrayed.”

He aggressively exclaimed, “Don't compare me with that son of a bitch,” and launched into a self-defense tirade. “I came to save you too as soon as I was free, and I looked for you everywhere.”

“How could I ever compare you with him while I know you are worse. And yes, Ben, you're quite considerate to have searched me in the Countess' home. Many thanks for it.”

“I payed a visit to her because I knew she was most probably the one tricked you. It was nothing else.”

“Whatever,” you said back harshly. “I don’t care anyways.”

Butcher interrupted you after making a brief phone call in the kitchen, saying, “Listen here, Bonnie and Clyde. Hughie and I need to get out and meet some buddies, but if you're not going to make trouble and if you don't want to fuck in peace all night, it's best if you don't stay at home. In every other case of emergency, you need to join us.”

You hurriedly swallowed the large slice of pizza and gasped, “We won't... I mean, we wouldn't,” to Butcher. Your cheeks flushed. “It's not like we're together or anything, so don't misinterpret and talk like this, please.”

Ben leaned back to the coach and said, “Well, I'm all in, baby,” pleased to see you flushed and in a panic. “Keep in mind that. Since I'm free, I didn't even fucking jerk off once. You can use me however you like,” he stated, stretching his legs and making an attempt to brush against you briefly while grinning genuinely and invitingly.

You grumbled, “I'm trying to enjoy my meal here,” ignoring the absolute filth that was flowing from his mouth.

“All right, that's OK.” Butcher urged you to complete your dinner, saying, “You can continue eating where we go. We must leave in five minutes.”

Ben growled, “Don't fucking order her around.”

“It's fine,” you stopped eating right away. “Where we're going to go?”

“We have to get some Temp-V from Hughie's friend. It appears that we will need to use it soon,” Butcher replied, glancing at Ben. “Unfortunately, you can't beat Homeland with just one guy.”

Ben did not even respond to Butcher's crap; he only rolled his eyes. He was aware that Homelander would be the easiest to take down. He was Soldier Boy, and someone of Butcher's age wouldn't fully get who he was.

You and Ben were seated in the back of Butcher's car, and Ben was covering the whole place almost as if he wanted you to lean into his body. He was always on the move, both his hands and his legs, and occasionally you would think he looked a bit bashful if you didn't know just how arrogant he really was. Somehow, you sensed the uncertainty, but you didn't look him up or ask him questions.

You couldn't help but feel confused and depressed as you gazed out of the car window at the enormous, gleaming structures. You no longer felt like you belonged in the world because so many years had passed in a tiny little cage. It seemed as though no one knew you, cared about you, or you had no place to stay. It's not your world, but rather other people's, that you see when you peek out the window.

You said, “Everything looks so different,” as a sense of melancholy took over you.

“Not at all,” Ben remarked in an arrogant tone, as if he had figured out everything in a single day. “I've learned many things; I will teach you all; don't worry.”

You challenged him, casting him a skeptical glance. “What do you know?”

“Well, I might teach you a thing or two because you're too eager to learn. For instance, GPS and the Internet were quite helpful in helping us learn about you and the place you were kept,” he added with pride as he smiled at you and waited for your reaction.

You whispered, “You're just making those words up,” unsure if he was trying to trick you.

“Those words are real words. I had said the same to that fuckface; believe me, sweetheart,” he continued, giving Hughie a harsh shoulder pat. “Hand over your damn android phone to me.”

Hughie murmured in distress, “Oh, God,” as Butcher nodded awkwardly and gave him an odd look. “Just don’t break it or something, please.”

Hughie handed his phone reluctantly to Ben, who took it with a swift move, and Ben used it like a pro, tapping the screen quickly. When he wrote down his name and yours on the screen called 'Google', your eyes widened open as you saw a ton of images and details about the two of you, Payback, and everything else.

Captivated by what Ben showed you, you muttered, “Everything about us is written down there.”

“See,” he declared with pride, chuckling at your bewildered response. “I told you I was very well-informed. The name of this one is Internet.”

You challenged him again, interested in learning more about this small device, which seemed to know a lot of things. The modern world is unquestionably something else, with easy access to knowledge at any time and about any subject matter.

“I am familiar with social media. If you don't want to be identified by your real identity, you can put up a fake profile and follow anybody you want. I made one for the two of us as well.” Ben responded, seeming proud of everything he had achieved with a cunning smile on his face.

You pretended to understand everything he said as you asked, “And what's your fake name?”

“It’s ‘soldierboyy/n69.' Pretty creative, isn't it?”

“Oh my gosh, Ben,” you said, pushing the phone and his hands in an annoyed tone as your face turned red. “Everyone will know that it is you. I shall be accused of having once again supported your actions if they find out the identity of your account. Why do you act so carelessly?”

“Everyone has those fake names,” Ben said, grimacing at how much you disapproved of what he had done. Nobody will find out because I'm not using it anyway."

He intended to show you that he never thought of himself apart from you and that he thought of you even while he was setting up the account, but all he managed was to distress and upset you once more. Observing your defensively crossed arms on your chest, he sighed and moved his strong arms to your seat in an attempt to get close to you.

“How are you so sure?” you asked as he handed over the phone to Hughie in a rude manner.

“Because that's the way the modern world works, sweetheart. Nothing and anyone are real when it comes to Internet.”

“Indeed,” Butcher said, glancing at the two of you through the mirror. “He is right; no one will find out. It's not really a big deal; trust me, if it were, I would have problems as well because of him.”

You cut it short, closing your eyes and lowering your head to the seat. “Okay,” you mumbled.

It was as though some odd numbness overcame your body, leaving you exhausted and unbalanced even after decades of sleep. It was most likely due to the quantity of sleep that your body became accustomed to, and it's also possible that you were experiencing a side effect from what you experienced in the lab. Nonetheless, it didn't concern you because you knew you still had your strength. You only needed to get a bit more rest. As you closed your eyes to give your body a break until you got there, you inhaled deeply.

You slowly opened your eyes, feeling Ben's gentle touch on your cheek, and heard him say, “You really turned into sleeping beauty, didn't you?” in a lighthearted manner.

“Have we arrived?” you muttered as you opened your eyes and noticed his intense gaze on you. The moment Butcher and Hughie slammed the car door, you immediately fully came to your senses.

Ben nodded, confused, not knowing how to react to your coldness as you gently moved his hands away from your face.

Ben and you had just followed Butcher and Hughie to the small, slightly desolate house. You looked around the room, and the other two women, who were glancing at you warily, exchanged glances. You could tell they were supes, just like you, from the whiff of Comp-V in their scents. You were a little nervous because you had no idea what their intentions were toward you. You had no friends or someone to rely on anymore, and you were a stranger to everything after all.

“Ladies, how are you doing here?” Butcher grabbed a glass of whiskey from the kitchen and inquired as he sat down right away on the closest couch.

“I can't believe you and you especially you Hughie,” the blonde remarked angrily. “You two really set them both free, and you forced me to take so much Temp-V; we're going to be caught. It's only a matter of time.”

“So you're the supe woman that bottom-faced guy pounding?” Ben aggressively exclaimed, pushing the short-haired man to the right while he snatched a cola from the refrigerator. “And the one who works for Vought when you're not getting off and doing other things.”

“Stop it, Ben,” you said in a warned tone as his abrupt aggression caused the air to thicken.

“Why don't we just sit down and have a nice chat?” Hughie looked at you anxiously, as if you wanted to soothe Ben before anything happened.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a cunning grin when he spotted you approaching him, and you gave him a cold look while he sipped his coke in joy.

“Well, Annie, that it wasn't in vain. Soldier Boy and I struck very useful bargain, didn't we?” Butcher inquired, glancing back to Ben with a sly smile. “We're going to kill Homelander together.”

You felt uneasy, and your thoughts turned to the Homelander once again. Even if you didn't care about Ben at all, you couldn't help but feel concerned because you were both strangers to Vought and the outside world now that Ben had gotten into so much trouble. Not only did you not want to return to the lab, but you also didn't want Ben to go through the same painful experiences. Even though he had been vile to you, you didn't want him to suffer forever in Russia.

Annie replied, “You should have told me, Hughie,” casting a disappointed glare at her boyfriend. “You’re so acting strangely these days.”

Hughie insecurely responded, “I know, I know,” rubbing her cheeks. “And I’m really sorry for it. It won’t happen again.”

The man with short hair said, “You all know that they both are being searched by the government, right?”

Butcher shot back, “Of course we all fucking know that, Frenchie.”

Annie looked at you and said, “Well, I guess Y/N's situation is worse,” while you stood by Ben, watching him carefully to make sure he didn't suddenly lose his temper and start some serious drama. “Well, she's a known traitor after all.”

You immediately defended yourself by saying, “I'm not a traitor,” and you were enraged at her haughty demeanor. Despite her lack of knowledge, she was constantly talking about things she had no idea about. “Vought only spread lies and caused us pain in order to build up the next generation, which is your generation. They tortured me for years just because I wanted to quit.”

Annie's expression softened as she realized that Vought would do something like that and that she was having trouble as well in Seven. She then apologized to you by looking at you and sincerely saying, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

She went on, making an effort to get you to see how complicated the situation was, saying, “But you need to understand that no one will believe you. For all this time, you have been regarded as a spy for the entire world. The same remains for Soldier Boy.”

“What is your point?” Ben cut her off with a harsh voice.

Ben was becoming mad at those morons; they were just some stupid kids who liked to order other kids around, but he was a man, a true leader, the strongest supe to live, and they had no idea what him and you had been through or who had been in charge decades earlier. He was already becoming a little tense about that blonde's cunning ideas, so he realized he had to proceed with caution going forward. He had to watch out for you too, in order to keep you safe.

With defensive hands on her hips, Annie retorted, “The thing is, it's best if you don't see each other for a while. I can help you spend a week in various secure locations, separated.”

Ben abruptly tensed up, enraged that the blonde had already made plans in her cunning mind to keep him away from you. “No fucking way,” he said. He was certain that those fucked-brains would propose something so incredibly moronic.

Even if it made sense, you realized those new guys weren't to be trusted as they were strangers. It was true that you needed some alone time apart from Ben, but for the time being, it was preferable to ignore what you’re told.

“Everyone is talking about what happened in New York and Ohio,” Annie said furiously. “I’m just asking you two be hidden for a week. Everything’s already complicated in Vought and I have my own problems.”

“Look, sneaky woman,” Ben hissed, “I don’t give fuck about your problems or anything at all. If you ever suggest such thing, you won’t have a head to think such idiotic things anymore. I’m warning you.”

“Ben, you need to calm down,” you said. You scowled at the feeling that his chest was unusually heated compared to normal. 

Frenchie agreed, saying, “Y/N is right; there is no need to fight each other.” The supe woman next to him smiled and patted his shoulders.

Butcher responded, “Annie is right too, though,” as he examined the Temp-V carefully on his lap. “Too much attention has been paid to Soldier Boy during the past three days. We are also doomed if he is seen soon enough.”

“They could be right,” you acknowledged, nodding to Butcher, understanding that his points were reasonable. Since you and Ben were currently the state's number one and two foes, you also didn't want to get into any sort of trouble.

Ben cursed, “Fuck that,” and he gave Butcher a menacing stare. He got offended at the fact that you instantly agreed with them but not with him. “I didn't realize I had done business with so many jerks. If you're that afraid of what's ahead, I might accept your suggestion, but Y/N is staying with me.”

“Calm down, buddy. Why are you so obsessed?” Butcher questioned, putting the bag down from his lap.

When you realized Ben was about to start an argument without reason, you asked him, “Why are you being like this?” in an irritated tone.

“Are you saying that you're prepared to follow those fuckfaces' instructions?” While you could tell he was angry, he inquired quietly, “What's wrong with you?”

Ben set down the coke and paid no attention to Butcher's irritating remarks. Instead, his attention was drawn to you. The fact that you didn't trust him but did trust the new people you had met most disturbed him. It was not them who saved you, but it was him who considered your safety and future. Still, you were ready to follow what they had to say. You'd been away from each other for a long time, so there was no reason to spend another minute separately.

“I'm not saying anything, Ben. I just want you to quit being irrationally dissatisfied and to be reasonable.”

Butcher sighed as he watched you start to debate, but Annie grasped Hughie's arm and guided him to another room to have a conversation.

Ben stated, “I'm not getting angry for no reason,” while attempting to stay controlled.

Despite Ben was desperate to touch you, he restrained himself since he knew that you two needed to have discussed the situation before acting on it. How in the world was he supposed to talk to you properly after a week apart? “I'm just saying, we don't have to spend a week alone and separated,” Ben said with a low voice.

Your eyes wandered around everywhere except for him.

“I'm not sure, Ben,” you teased him, feeling hesitant about his response. “Maybe we should.”

“How can you be sure that those people won't imprison you to a metal box once more? Do you really want to go back to that lab? You're saying you have faith in them, but not in me?”

You angrily gasped, “Don't you ever talk to me about trust. I would never make the same mistake by trusting you again.”

He tried to calm himself down, saying, “I'm the only one who saved you,” but the heat inside his chest kept growing.

“Will you stop arguing?” Butcher got up and asked, watching Ben trap you against the kitchen table while grinning at Ben and sipping his whiskey. “She obviously wants to be by herself for a while. Would you please just accept her decision and let her to enjoy herself?”

Ben angrily remarked, “Mind your fucking own business; we are fucking having a conversation here.”

You stopped disputing with him and cast a puzzled glance at his chest as soon as you felt the warmth in his chest increasing once more.

Butcher said, “It's like you're forcing her for something she doesn't want to though. Don't be such a drama queen,” ignoring Frenchie's warnings. “She might just want to spend time alone in a nice place and fuck with some hot dudes, savor the time she missed all those years.”

Ben snarled, turning to face Butcher and ignoring you this time. “Watch your fucking language," he growled. “If you say one more word, I fucking swear I'll rip your heads off.”

Ben's chest began to glow suddenly before he could finish his sentence, and your eyes widened, sensing the anxiety and the heat coming from his body.

“Ben,” you whispered quietly, uneasy with his rage and the anguish on his face, as if he tried to maintain self-control.

With an expression of fright on his face, Frenchie and the supe woman next to him also retreated a step. “Calm down, buddy,” Butcher muttered. “Let's not cause another accident. You've already done enough damage, huh. ”

But Ben's chest continued to glow, alerting you. “Hey, what's wrong with you?” you asked as you walked up to him, stroking his arms and then his face and making him to look at you.

He snarled, “I can't hold it,” and shoved your hands away right away. “Stay away from me.”

Instead of following commands, you remained in the same spot and continued to massage his upper arms in an effort to soothe him though you got extremely anxious. Then, in the hopes of calming him down a little, you put your hands on his burning, hot chest. Even if there was smoke slightly arising from his body, your hands felt chilly.

You whispered, “It's okay,” feeling his temperature drop beneath your fingertips gradually.

Next Chapter

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[szasfuckingwife]

Your day starts and ends with a tender stroke on your protruding pregnant belly. Your husband is across the minka, probably scaring men half to death. However, now, it’s breakfast and your maids prepare you for the start of the day.

The maids lead you to the dining room where your husband sits on the opposite side. You bow before him as you slowly take a seat. “Good Morning, Ryomen.”

He stares at you with all his eyes, not saying a word. His eyes also linger at your belly. Sukuna has never felt fear especially considering his fear was a small baby that was yet to appear. It kept him up at night

“How was your morning..?” You sweetly smile at him, only to be met with his unchanged face. “The baby was moving a lot today…”

He exhaled sharply, “Terrible. Some weakling was outside begging me for forgiveness.”

You nod before he speaks again, “Why aren’t you eating?”

His words earn a raise of your brow as you stare down at the array of food. It wasn’t your desire to eat, especially after hearing some maids speak ill of your pregnancy cravings. You would’ve laughed it off if they hadn’t have proceeded to call you ‘fat’ and ‘ugly’ and wondered ‘why Lord Sukuna married an ugly concubine like her’.

But you were extremely hungry. “I…I’m not hungry…I-”

“What happened?” He asks in a low voice.

Sukuna knows what happened, he just doesn’t know if you heard it too. Or, better yet, if you heard it and refused to tell him. He squinted his eyes at you slightly before you cracked.

“I heard…someone say that I was fat. And ugly. And you shouldn’t have married me…” The words leave your mouth hurt Sukuna more than they do you. He wonders how you must have felt, it’s enough being pregnant but hearing that from other women must hurt.

“Y/N.” You look up. “I do not think you’re fat. I do not think you’re ugly. Tell me, whose opinion matters more? Mine or some maids.”

You inhale, “You.”

“So, if that’s the case, why do you care about them? Why do you-”

“Because I feel that way too! I see myself day by day getting more uglier and…I don’t want to eat!” All the anger and sadness inside you lashes out and instead of holding it in, Sukuna watches as you push the food off the table and walk off.

As you marched back to your room, you regretted everything you did. He was sure to get rid of you now, how could you speak to your lord in such a way. Not only were you scared of Sukuna’s reaction, you were scared of your own. You’ve never let yourself get so heated before. A thought crosses your mind, what if you were becoming just like your sadistic husband..?

With your loud sobbing, you didn’t realise Sukuna enter the room. His touch caused you to jump as you faced him.

“They’ll be…dismissed. As for you, do not listen to them. You are carrying my heir, and you are my wife. No one knows how I feel about you, and I fear they never will. Don’t let them think they know anything about us, me, and especially you.”

You nod, staring up at him. “Now, dry your eyes, get rid of your tears. I want to parade you around and show you off one more time.”

[inklore]

code breaker

premise: there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something.

pairing: joel miller x (f)reader

word count: 6.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unprotected p in v, smut with feelings really, fem receiving oral, friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, mentions of violence and blood, alcohol mention, toxic exes and relationships discussed, dirty talk, biting and love marks mention, lots of banter, au (preoutbreak).

note: i meant for this to be darker but it turned out wayyy more fluffy and i’m actually really happy about it. i hella edited this but it still feels choppy so if it is i’m sorry ya girl has bad eyes lmao. gif made by me so don’t be an ass and steal it tysm <3

There’s words you should be saying right now. Expressing. Spilling from your mouth in a heap of thank you, I appreciate you, what would I do without you always being there for me…

But they just can’t seem to come out. The speech part of your brain—and your heart—aching and prompting you to speak. To show courtesy, your vocal cords refuse to let you get out. Like your mouth has forgotten its purpose, your throat hoarse from screaming Joel’s name in the chaos of thrown fists, people shouting, men trying and failing to haul Joel’s weight off of the bloodied body below it.

The blood on his knuckles pulls your eyes in like a neon sign: caked, dark, and drying the longer the air gets to it. If it hurts Joel doesn’t state it—show it as he grips the steering wheel. You’ve never thrown a punch before, have never seen something like this up close and personal. You excelled at resolving conflicts before they arose. Never let arguments get past the phase of unfair yelling. But you would assume his knuckles must be aching, even if only a dull pounding.

You know for certain your ex's face is.

Good. 

You hadn’t expected him to show up at the bar, your job. Hadn’t expected him to start in on the possessive act—coincidently the local patrons were less than surprised at the all-too-cliché behavior. The town having labeled him as bad news ages ago. Something you had to learn the hard way, when you finally took off those rose colored glasses. 

Joel had been staring at you for the duration of the exchange. Even after your ex left to hang out with a group of his buddies in the corner, his gaze lingered on you.

"You alright?" He asked as he slid his glass towards you, his forearm leaning against the bar. A wordless nod letting you know he wanted another. 

"Yeah, he’s not the first creep I've had to deal with. It's in our DNA as women to deal with the lesser species of the male population."

"Can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse as a father."

"Oh," you send him a sweet smile. Setting his refilled whiskey in front of him, "no creep dare mess with Sarah. I’ve seen her make jocks cry."

"That’s my girl, taught her well." The grin he wraps around the rim of the glass makes something girlish—and foolish—spark in your stomach. 

Maybe if you had a man like Joel in your life, you would be less likely to keep making the same mistakes with no-good assholes who are good for a week and bad for the rest of the 358 days. 

A girl can dream. 

And she has. Embarrassingly. 

The two of you had continued to talk, your hip pressed against the bar as you cleaned a glass; perhaps you had been smiling and laughing too hard at what Joel was saying because your ex was back and grabbing you from across the bar in an instant.

An action that quickly landed him passed out and bloodied on the bar floor, and your boss trying to make sure Joel hadn’t taught him too good of a lesson to have him see God. 

And while the adrenaline of shock had been bruising your heart against your rib cage, your lungs devoid of air—when Joel had put his non-bloody hand against your arm, calling your name (the white noise of the commotion in the bar creating an impenetrable barrier to your ear drums), a warm thumb under your chin pulling your attention away from the limp body on the floor and up into his eyes—that adrenaline melted and turned into serendipity. 

Gratefulness. 

Those girlish sparks turning into an entire flame that quickly engulfed you as he asked if you were okay. As he comforted you with a barely there touch on your arm and chin, concern in his dark eyes. Concern for what? Frightening you? 

When your gaze is drawn to his knuckles, his body language responds with a grimace. When you see the gashes only bone against bone brings. 

He’s worried he’s upset you. As if he's done something wrong.

When he insists on driving you home you don’t argue. Wouldn’t dream of it even if the circumstances were different. It wouldn't be the first time he drove you home because your beat-up car wouldn't start or because the weather was bad and your anxiety was high.

That’s the thing about Joel. 

He was always there. 

If you needed help, he always seemed to find time. 

Because of this, and the aforementioned beating your toxic ex to a pulp, you shouldn't be allowing the silence to spread between the two of you like strangers. Like something in the air was making everything awkward, like you hadn’t sat in his truck a dozen times before. Like he hasn’t gotten you out of a pinch (minus the blood) before. 

And after he’s pulled into your driveway, engine turned off, the cicadas and crickets filling the silence, it’s Joel who finally speaks. 

Who cracks that barrier you have mentally been trying so hard to climb over. 

"I’m sorry if I," he clears his throat, flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "If I overstepped." 

And the ridiculousness of him even apologizing has your mouth finally moving into action. "Joel, no, oh my gosh, no." Your palm presses against your chest as you look at him apologetically; you should be the only one saying sorry, thanking him, worshiping at his feet for this. "I should be the one saying that. I should have handled it myself or-"

"Or what?" He looks almost angry, shocked at your words. "He had a hold of you, and no disrespect, but I ain’t ever seen you kill a fly, let alone throw a punch at someone." 

"Hey! I could punch someone." 

"Could and would are two different things." 

"You sayin I couldn’t?" 

"I’m sayin' you wouldn’t." 

"Not tough enough?" 

"Your heart's too big." 

"If you knew how hard I was holding back the urge to prove you wrong by bruising that bicep of yours, Joel Miller, you’d think differently." Your scowl and threat only seem to amuse him because he’s grinning at you. "You’re lucky you’re injured." 

"I’m shaking in my boots." 

"As you should be." The laugh the two of you share makes your cheeks burn.  On the outside, many could and have labeled Joel as a complicated man. A man who takes a lot of nudging and persistence to get to know past that surface-level workaholic grump he sometimes displays. But he’s a man who would lend a hand at the drop of a hat. A man with honor embedded in his very DNA.

There’s a list you’ve kept in the back of your mind that has every bullet point filled out and doodled hearts around the edges of all the reasons Joel is a good man. A man you trust. A man you adore.

"Thank you, Joel." He starts to shake his head, but you stop him with your palm resting on his forearm, "thank you. "You're right, I don't think I even know how to make a proper fist, let alone connect it." Your soft laugh makes the corners of his lips tick up. "You didn’t hesitate to help me. You never do. It means a lot to me, I hope you know that."

He nods, his eyes only on your face. Listening. Taking in every word you’re saying, even if you know he hates the fact that you’re thanking him for this. But he deserves to know how much you appreciate him.

Your hand moves to his wrist, gently yanking it away from his vice-like grip on the wheel. Your index finger runs along a vein at the top of his hand—the one spot the blood didn’t cake on to. "Does it hurt?" 

"No. Between the callouses and the whiskey, it’s nothing more than a cat scratch." 

"You should still get it looked at."

"You’re looking at it, aren’t ya?" 

Your eyes roll. "I’m not a doctor, Joel." 

"All a doctors gonna tell me is to be more careful, hand me a band-aid, and charge me three hundred dollars."

"Well, in that case," you drop his hand and grab for the door. The dry summer air ineffective to your already burning skin from the man whose raising his brows at you, "I got band aids in the house, and I didn’t get to finish my shift, which means you owe me three hundred in tips alone sooo."

"There's barely three hundred people in this town, and you’re tellin me you make that in tips?" 

"Joel, just get in the damn house." You order, slamming the door of his truck and walking up the path to your front door. Smiling when you hear him huff and grumble under his breath as he gets out. 

A hiss—and a scowl so deadly it could scare away even the biggest and badest of grown men—has Joel’s hand twitching in your hold as you run a wet cloth along the tops of his knuckles. The fabric pulling up the caked on flecks of dried blood, the surface of the cuts along the bone already starting the healing process from being clotted with red. 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt?" You smirk playfully. 

"Whiskey’s wearin' off," he grunts. 

"Or," you dab the cloth in the small cap of saline solution you’ve pulled from your first aid kit under the sink. Bringing it back to his skin to press gently across his cuts, his body tensing. "You’re human after all," his eyes roll. 

"Don’t alert the press." 

"Oh, they’ve already been informed." 

His hand rests on your thigh as you ball up some tissues to dry the area around his knuckles. Enough to keep the band-aids—the only thing he would allow you to use because gauze would just get in the way at work, he informed you when you insisted—from falling off. The heat from his palm burns through your jeans, and it's a blessing in and of itself that you're ignoring how it makes your insides feel; how your body's warmth is no match for how hot he feels. His legs are spread, body slouched against your couch, his knee against yours. A closeness he’s never been before. A casual touch and directness between friends that shouldn’t be making you feel feverish and cheeky. 

When he flexes his fingers a couple times and his fingertips run along the top of your thigh, you find yourself wishing you’d worn a dress to work. A skirt. Anything to have been able to feel him do that against your bare skin. A thought you chide yourself for. A thought you hope isn’t written all over your face when you look over at Joel and he’s staring at you. Eyes darker, expression unreadable and stoic, in that way you can never tell what emotion he’s feeling at that exact moment. He gives nothing away but still sends your stomach plummeting. 

After the band-aids have been stuck and you’ve cleaned up the mess on your coffee table you offer him a drink. 

"Unless you have to get back to Sarah, then I understand."

"She’s with a friend tonight." 

"You gonna tell her how you saved the day, all knight and shining armor style?" You tease as you walk back to the living room with two beers in hand, putting one in Joel’s outstretched one and the other to your lips. Taking a sip as you take your place beside him once again, this time a leg pulled under you as you face him. 

He snorts, "don’t know about all that."

"I’m sure word has already gotten around. Her friends are probably gabbing about how heroic Mr. Miller is, a real prince charming." You laugh when you see his grin. 

"Or," he says, swallowing the sip he's just taken. "She’ll give me that death glare that all teenagers possess after puberty, you know the one?"

"Oh, I know the one. Mine was so fierce my mother banned it from our house."

"It’s deadly."

"Truly."

"I’m sure prince charming will be the last thing connected to my actions. Rage and jackass sound more on the money." 

You frown. Watch as he stares down at the result of the rage he thinks will now be accompanied with his name. Tarnishing it that now people will forget the kindness that was once there, the man whose hardworking now turned into something vile all because of an act of heroism some might find obscene; with how much blood and possible damage it has caused to one mans face, you could understand why such an act would be. 

But to you—and those who knew how horrible your ex had been, how he had deserved every bone crunching punch, every spit of blood and teeth choked on—you knew that what Joel did was right. And maybe, somewhere deep down in those morals against violence everyone gets handed out to them at birth, you knew that Joel could be sitting in a jail cell instead of on your couch if those punches had been any worse. If it had been pure untamed rage like some will say. 

"You’re a good man, Joel. So you potentially hospitalized an asshole, who hasn’t?" Your heart leaps in your chest when he laughs, and you thank God that your joke landed. Thank him that this man with his disheveled hair that's begging to have a hand run through it, work shirt and jeans looking like they’ve seen better days—is in your life. Not every girl has someone willing to bruise another man's face while destroying the hand that's needed to do their job properly.

No one had acted as quick as Joel had. 

Joel Miller was a good man. 

"What did you see in him anyway?" Joel asks, taking another sip of his beer. His gaze is drawn to you from the hole he was burning into his hand. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know. 

Couldn’t answer that question with the full truth because you didn’t know why you always went for the assholes. The guys who liked to scream instead of talk it out. Who liked to steal money from your wallet for booze or a habit they couldn’t kick. The ones who never remembered your birthday but made sure didn't forget theirs.

Your father had been a great man. Your mother an amazing woman. You couldn’t take the easy way out and blame it on family trauma. 

So you answered with the only viable reason that came to mind. 

"Loneliness makes you ignore all the bad stuff." You take a sip, swallow it down (washing away the pinpricks of potential embarrassment for being so brutally honest with Joel). "It makes you talk yourself out of throwing all their stuff to the curb or burning it in your backyard, because it’s not always bad. Some days are good. Some of them wait to be assholes before the novelty wears off; others wait until you're two years in and they’ve already slept with half the town behind your back. And some will bring you flowers every time they mess up, until one day you look around and realize you don't have any room to put this new vase and there's dried flower petals all over your floors. But hey, at least you’re not lonely, and your house smells really good." 

The smile on your lips fades when you see the look on Joel’s face. See that he’s finding no humor in this story. And the gulp that swallows down the beer in your hands burns your throat the entire way down. Your cheeks are burning, and you have to look away from him. Distract yourself by picking at the label on the bottle. 

"Or maybe it’s as cliché as saying I haven’t found the right one yet." You try to save, nervously chuckling under your breath. In hopes that he forgets everything you’ve just said and clings to this one shitty joke. 

"Look at me."

You do, and you wish you hadn’t. The roughness of his voice makes your stomach swoop and fall like a rollercoaster of emotions you did not prepare yourself for. Hadn’t imagined this being in your future when you’d walked into work. But you’re looking at him. Meeting his eyes. Seeing the stern glower in them before he speaks. 

There’s a million things you imagine him saying. Telling you how much better you are than that, than all of those meaningless assholes. How you deserve better, and you’ll find it someday. Hell, you expect him to scold you with how low his brows are.

What you don’t expect is to feel his lips on yours. His fingers digging into the skin at the back of your neck, his chest inches from your now-heaving one. And it renders you speechless. Still. Your brain not computing with the signals your nerves are giving off right now. 

When he pulls away and looks at you, it takes you several blinks to meet his gaze. The air in your lungs weighing your chest down. You shouldn’t speak. Should allow yourself to get your bearings in order. To catch your breath and sort through everything you’re feeling right now. "Was that a pity kiss?" 

"A what—pity kiss?" 

"Cause of the," you swallow, lick your lips, "of the aforementioned assholes?" 

Joel’s breath fans across your face when he chuckles, "anyone who’d pity kiss you deserves to be added to that list of assholes. And I might be on many asshole lists, but hopefully not on yours." The fingers on your neck skate forward to your cheek, thumb pressed gently along your jawline. His features grow serious again. "I didn’t just knock that asshole out because he had it comin'. And if you haven't noticed, I’m either working or at home with Sarah. Both keepin' me more than busy."

"Too busy to be making house calls for leaky faucets and tarnishing your good name with your fists?" 

"Exactly." 

There's a long pause between you two, as if you're both waiting for the other to say something, anything, to put these unspoken mutual feelings out there.

"Joel, are you saying you coming over to fix my faucet and staying for the occasional beer was you…flirting?" The grin he gives you makes you laugh, "who taught you how to flirt? And please don’t say Tommy."

"No. If I had listened to him we’d be–" he doesn’t finish. Just shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. 

And maybe affirmative action with your hands wasn’t your forte, maybe you couldn’t do what needed to be done when it came in the form of actions. But when it came to words, to saying what you wanted, needed, craved when it was right here in front of you being hinted and teased at, you didn’t hesitate. 

"Maybe you should have listened to Tommy." Your hand mirrors his own, resting on his cheek. You already knew he ran hot from his palm alone. But his cheek feels just as warm as you do, burning right through to your bones. His gaze falls to your parted lips, and a decision is made in the seconds it takes him to return his gaze to yours.

An agreement. 

"C'mere." His lips collide with yours in a heated kiss of nicks of teeth and tongue that taste like whiskey and beer and something that your brain will forever recognize as Joel. A taste you know you’ll be wanting to swallow down again and again. To feel the burn of his beard against your chin until your skin is raw and blotchy from how hard his mouth is devouring yours. An arm wrapped around your waist pulls you into his lap, and your forgotten beers spill and stain the cushions of your couch. "Shit, sorry, let me," Joel starts, but you stop him with your hands on his cheeks. 

"Leave it, just come here." You insist, lips returning to his. 

"Yes, ma’am." His smirk molds to your mouth, wipes away as his tongue runs along your bottom lip to press against yours. A hand on your ass squeezes and presses you forward so you’re grinding against his lap. The seam of your jeans rubs up against the wet patch that's quickly forming on the fabric of your underwear, becoming sticky and clinging to your pussy. Joel's other hand runs down the column of your neck, gripping and pulling you away from his mouth so that his lips can latch onto your sensitive skin. A gasp leaving your lungs, teeth and tongue making you shudder and cling to his shoulders. 

Shoulders you don't let go of until your back hits the mattress and you're both pulling your shirts above your heads, your fingers quickly working the clip of your bra, joining the discarded pile of shirts and shoes on your bedroom floor.

Your heart feels as if it’s beating a hole through your chest, like it’ll fall into Joel’s hands as he leans over your body, knees between your open legs, as his palms run down your chest, between your breasts. Over the globes of them, calloused thumb circling around your nipple. Your breath caught in your throat as you press yourself up into his touch. He’s taking you in, letting his eyes trail every dip, possible mole, scar, and marking on your skin. How your chest heaves in response to his hand. How your breasts fit in his palm. How you gasp and cry into the air when he leans down and swirls his tongue around one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive flesh when he pulls off and does the same to the other one. 

His mouth finding its way back to yours again. His hips canting against yours; you can feel his cock digging into your thigh. And when you let your hand skate between the two of you to give him more friction. A dizzying desire to feel more of his heat and need for you burning through your skin and to your core, where you truly crave him. 

The deep grunt that falls from his mouth and onto your waiting tongue sends a shockwave of arousal through your entire body. Being. You want to hear it again, want to pull every noise from this man with your body and mouth until you are both drained and cursing yourselves for not doing this sooner. And you know he wants to do the same. Wants to catalog every pressure point and sensitive bit of your flesh so he can draw this out, can rile you up with a simple touch, scrape of teeth, run of his tongue along your jugular. Until you tell him how badly you can’t stand not having him inside of you. 

He's leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach, his fingers digging into the skin above your jeans, holding your hips still. Preventing you from moving them the way you want to from each press and prickle from his mouth and beard—scalding the nerves of your skin and making your insides whirl. 

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." Joel murmurs into your skin as his fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans. Your body feels barren and cool away from his heat as he sits back on his knees, your hips lifting as he frees your legs from their confines. His thumb runs along the lace of your underwear, dipping lower and lower until it’s pressing into that wet spot. A silent, smug praise tugs at the corner of his lopsided smile as his eyes look up to yours.

If your mind was working coherently and not filled with Joel Joel Joel (the way he smells woodsy and rugged, the way something deep and gruff reverberates in his chest when your teeth sink into the skin of his neck, and how he keeps looking at you like a fine art piece hung in the Louvre. Movements quick and gentle as he pulls your underwear down your thighs, making quick work to push your legs apart, fingers digging into the back of your thigh as he lets himself take his time adorning you fully on display for him) there'd be a sassy remark aimed at him.

The callus of his thumb nicks your swollen clit, eliciting a whimper from your lips, your hips following the descent of his finger as it spreads you apart. Trailing a line from your clit to dip into your entrance, gathering your arousal on the pad of his finger, his eyes on yours as he presses it against his tongue. A burning hunger in his eyes as he sucks your wetness from his fingers. 

You're a panting mess by the time Joel positions his head between your legs, arms wrapped behind your thighs, lips, teeth, and tongue trailing up your inner thigh. Your fingers clench the blanket in anticipation, need, and want. The closer his mouth gets to your center, the more you can feel his hot breath moving in, the potential love bites and marks he’s leaving on your inner thigh—all a certain type of torture you don’t think you’re strong enough to put up with right now. 

You lift your head to start begging, to plead with your torturer, but he’s speaking before you can. 

"Wanna take my time, sweetheart." His tongue swirls at the joint of your inner thigh. And just as earlier, the words you mean to get out, to speak from the storm cloud of lust in your head, die in the back of your throat when Joel runs the flat of his tongue up the seam of your pussy. The torturous muscle wraps you around his tongue, following the slowest path to your clit, until the tip of his tongue flicks, making a pattern of strokes and licks, until his lips wrap around the swollen nerve, making you feel delirious. Keeps pulling gasps, moans, and pants of pleasure and ecstasy from your parted mouth; head thrown back on pillows; legs trembling around his head from the blazing fire that grows and grows the more he consumes you.

The more his nose nicks your clit when he fucks you with his tongue, the more his fingers dig into your quivering legs to keep you anchored to the bed and his mouth. 

It feels like hours with how slowly he goes. Keeps you dangling from the ledge with every stroke and suck. Every soothing indent his fingers are leaving in your thigh. Your skin slicked with sweat, knuckles cramped from its grip in the blanket. When your moans go up in pitch he goes slower in that motion, that spot that has you seeing stars. Then he lets your breath come back to you with slow strokes of his tongue at your entrance, giving attention to the other parts of you that you didn’t think could elicit such erotic noises from your lungs. 

Your fingers find their way into those disheveled strands you’ve been waiting a lifetime to thread through. To pull and keep yourself from the feeling of floating away from the intensity of the pleasure. From your orgasm coming closer and closer until you’re panting his name, "Joel, Joel, Joel–fuck," your body shaking, the cries pulled out from this man burning your throat as you finally fall from the ledge and into him; his tongue coated in you, his chin wet with your essence. 

Your body sensitive and heavy as you come down, a sweaty heat making you feel sticky. Joel’s fingers seem to bypass every sensitive part though, as his palm caresses the tops of your thighs, your hips, your curves, the side of your breast. Until he’s reached your burning cheeks, mouth pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips. The kiss was slow and gentle. Your arousal coats your taste buds when his tongue meets yours.

The kiss feeling more intimate than before, more heady. Knocking you right back on that loop you just got off of. That ache and throb he just sedated starting again in your belly, moving to where your thighs are soaked. 

"You’re overdressed," you murmur against his lips. Joel kisses you again, your open mouths exchanging a breathy chuckle.

"Do you wanna change that?" 

The question holds more than just the surface level of a joke and an answer of "yeah, obviously."  There’s a seriousness to it that makes you pull back from his lips and stare up at him. His thumb traces a soothing pattern into the bottom of your chin, his eyes holding an unspoken reassurance that he’s fine with it ending right here. With him just pleasing you, getting to take you apart and reassemble you with tender touches and a torturous mouth.

It can be all about you.

It is all about you.

You deserve nothing less.

His eyes and soft grin speak unspoken. 

Your nod is slow and reassuring. Your fingertips copy the motions of his thumb against the patches of skin in his damp beard. "Unless you’d rather help me get the stain out of my couch that you caused."

"I caused?" His brows shoot up. 

"It's to be expected when you can't keep your hands off of me," you say before shrieking as he pinches your side. His lips kissing your scowl away—a problem you foresee in the near future.

The kiss lasts for minutes (centuries you wish). Your fingertips never lift from the other's face, moving along jawlines, chins, and cheek bones. His chest comfortably against yours, giving you that heat you missed so dearly. His cock still stiff and hot in his jeans, grinding slowly against your pelvis. 

Is this how it’s supposed to feel? When feelings haven't even been discussed yet, but you just know? Already know what each touch, kiss, and caress holds behind it. Telling a wordless story in the way he had wanted to give you pleasure first—to taste—and take his time making you feel everything his mouth could do. Everything he wanted to do to you.

He wasn’t thinking about himself after the fact. Wasn’t rushing to put you in a position that made it all about his pleasure. Giving you little to no space to cool down, regain your bearings, and have that fire slowly relight and become more tantalizing, as he is right now.

You really did date assholes. 

Your fingers move to his chest, splaying your palm along his body until you’ve reached where he’s hard and pressing against you. Your fingers curl around the outline of him. Stroking, massaging. 

"I want you, Joel." You breathe into his mouth. 

He growls against your lips in something akin to frustration and agony. It makes something inside of you sink, overthink that maybe he doesn’t actually want to push it past the points you’ve already reached. Maybe it’s too much, all too soon, for this new territory of your friendship—even if it already seemed a little too late with the couch confessions and his saliva still coating your center. 

He must see the thoughts volleying in your head because he’s scolding himself under his breath and shaking his head. A soothing touch placed on your skin. "I feel like I’m some horny teenager again, with how bad I want you." His chuckle soothes your heart, "I don’t have-"

And you can't help but laugh at his waving hand towards his pockets and the sentence he's about to finish.

"Jesus, Joel. Bless anyone who's ever thought you were the ungentlemanly type." Here you were worrying about whether or not he wanted you, the proof being clearer than just his dick against your fingers. While the only thing on his mind was protection. 

"Glad I’m amusin’ to you." 

Cupping his cheeks, you pull him back to your lips. "All a girl wants is a decent man to make her laugh, not break her heart, and be able to make her come. And so far you’ve done all three." You let your tongue slip between your mouths and run along his bottom lip, "I’m good if you are." 

I’m clean.

I take a little pill every day because life is chaotic enough and I don’t want any surprises. 

We’re protected.

Now take me already.

The drag of your tongue, the roll of your hips against him, the little whimper you let out when he bites your lip—speaks for you.

It’s all either of you needs to rid Joel of his jeans: hands tangled in belt loops, tugs, pulls, pushing until he’s completely bare in front of you. Your breath hitches when you feel the underside of his cock spreading you and running along your clit slowly and languidly. The heat of him feels nothing compared to your own, the throb and ache of requisite in every roll and drag. 

And when neither of you can stand it anymore, when he’s grunting and you’re begging, he leans up on an elbow, hand wrapped around his cock, lining himself up to your entrance. Your breath leaves your lungs, stomach falling falling down to where he’s pushing into you. Stretching you, filling you until there’s no telling where either of you ends or begins. Attached by that intangible string of pleasure and bliss of only being able to feel each other.

"Fuck," Joel groans. Mouth finding your shoulder, breath hot and heavy. His thrusts start leisurely, taking his time in that way you’re learning he loves to do. Loves to compartmentalize up what you need—more, faster, harder. Going off of the moans panted into his neck, nails digging into his back. 

There's a hand gripped in the pillow beside your head, another at your breast, his mouth connected to your neck, your jaw, your chin, your lips. His hips slamming against your open thighs, thrusts deep, sharp. His cock hitting places that make your back arch, his name strung together with pleas for more. The slapping of skin and wet squelching of bodily fluids between the two of you making a symphony of lewd delight. 

When the hand at your breast hikes up one of your legs, the cry you let out is swallowed by his mouth. The deeper he fucks into you, the more your body shakes, the more you feel him completely consuming you. turning you into someone who will never get enough of this. Of him. Of how good he's making you feel. 

"Sound s’pretty," his tongue brushes against the underside of your chin, teeth nipping at the bone. A trail of him brought down to the shell of your ear. Where his heavy breaths and grunts fill you just as his cock does. Fills you to the brink of pain turned satisfying pleasure, as each stroke brings you closer to a precipice he’s already pushed you from. "Can’t believe I held myself back from you."

"Joel."

"I should knock out every asshole who thought to hurt you, t’not love you the way you deserve. Put you first," he slips his hand between your slick bodies, palm hot against your pelvis as his thumb rubs fast tight circles around your clit. His words getting filthier, ragged. Becoming heaving breaths against your ear as he fucks you faster. As his thumb matches the pace, as you grow closer and closer. Led by his words and pushed over by his cock. 

"That’s it, sweetheart." He’s encourages as you come. As he fucks you through it, as that white-hot heat makes your body contort against his. Cling and squeeze around him. The string of groans and curses, your name mixed with something incoherent but soft and deep, makes your chest swish—bit into your skin as Joel comes not long after. 

And after the two of you have cleaned up enough to call it satisfactory, two new beers condensing on your night stand. Your cheek pressed into his chest as your bodies lay pressed together under your sheet. His chin resting atop your forehead, a soft brush of fingertips at your spine—there’s cheesy grins on your faces, "Tommy’s going to have a heyday."

"He owes me fifty bucks."

There’s faux shock on your face when you turn and lean on your elbow to look at him, "excuse me?"

"He didn't think I'd ever tell ya," Joel shrugs as his hand caresses your shoulder. A fondness in his eyes, "I never do anything for myself." You press a kiss to his thumb, "I think we both deserve something good for once though." 

"I guess I solved the mystery of how to get Joel Miller to be soft," you joke. Nip at the skin of his thumb playfully. 

"I ain’t soft." He grumbles.

"Postcoitous Joel disagrees with that statement," you say. The dramatic roll his eyes do makes you laugh. Your teeth nipping his thumb harder, a bite this time, you shift so you’re on top of him. Sitting up on your knees. "Since this bet is half at my expense.."

"Expense, huh?" His palm grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, causing you to rock in his lap. His cock already twitching to life again.

"I think we should get you your money's worth," you smirk.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all night," his fingers tangled in your back hair, pulling your mouth down to his in a hard kiss, before you get the chance to at least pretend to be offended.