#so usually she just comes with or her and her husband and best friend 2 comes with

[bosbas]

Chapter 3: it was all by design

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 1.7k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, morally grey daphne ??, slow burn!!!, anthony being a SIMPPPP (i love it)

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

June 2, 1812 - As you walked into Lady Danbury's ballroom, your hands were gripping the skirt of your dress to keep them from trembling. Tonight was the night you were going to ask Anthony to court you. You were asking him. It was an absurd concept at best, a lady asking a gentleman to court. But you'd already come this far, asking him to dance and all, so you supposed it wasn't that large of a jump from one thing to the next.

It wasn't real, you kept reminding yourself. It was just a way to give Daphne the season she deserved. And Anthony had absolutely no interest in marriage anyway, so he would surely not particularly mind when you ended things with him.

Besides, you were fairly certain he only saw you as a sister, much like Daphne, so it was doubtful he’d even be amenable to the prospect of starting a courtship with you. It was taking a lot of mental work to convince yourself that this would be fine.

But at the end of the day, you had your own reputation to think about. As much as you enjoyed spending time with Anthony at high society balls, you knew it wasn't the best for your image if you were constantly seen dancing with a man who wasn't courting you. Someone was bound to think that something was wrong with you. Several people had asked you already, actually.

So, you smoothed your skirts and steeled your nerves. This was the best option for Daphne. And for you if you wanted to keep spending as much time with Anthony as you were now.

Looking around the ballroom, your eyes met the eldest Bridgerton's.

His eyes immediately lit up, blinking as he took in your impressive ballgown and elbow-length gloves. Quickly, he started walking toward you, practically tripping over Cressida Cowper's train because he was in such a rush.

“Good evening, Lady L/N,” he bowed, putting on the stuffy voice you’d heard him use with his mother’s friends.

“Good evening, Viscount,” you responded, playing along with him.

He flashed you the most charming smile you had ever seen, and you understood completely why the ladies of the ton swooned over him. If you had his charisma and good looks, you’d probably be a rake, too.

“Fancy a dance tonight?” he asked casually, his hand reaching out to softly touch your dance-card-clad wrist.

“I suppose I do,” you responded, flashing him a vibrant smile. The nerves you had felt a few minutes ago had practically evaporated, leaving only room for excitement as Anthony interwove his fingers with yours and led you to the dance floor.

A few minutes after the dance had begun, you caught a glimpse of Daphne and Mr Norwood looking completely smitten with one another. It quickly reminded you of your goal for the night. If Daphne was going to marry Mr Norwood then you needed to bite the bullet and get this over with right now.

As you were staring intently at your best friend and the man she wanted to marry, your brow furrowed and lips pursed, you felt Anthony's warm breath close to your ear.

“What’s on your mind?” he whispered softly, sensing your mind was elsewhere.

Having spent so much time with you in the past few weeks, Anthony had grown accustomed to your quirks and knew that you weren’t being your usual self.

You froze. It was now or never.

“Um… Well… I was just thinking about how our dancing every night looks. To other people I mean. Given that we’re not courting,” you babbled, unable to meet the eyes of the man in front of you.

Confused, Anthony continued, “Is this about what I said the other night? About only being able to dance so many times?”

“No, not at all,” you reassured him. If you two did end up courting, you didn’t ever want him to think he was at fault. “Just some comments I’ve heard from ladies around the ton, you know how they are. They ask me questions I don’t particularly know the answer to,” you said dismissively.

“And you’re worried about how this will affect you in the future, as an unmarried lady?”

“Well… yes,” you responded lamely. Although everything you had said up to this point was true, you were still unable to meet his eyes, the guilt of deceiving him eating away at you.

Anthony knit his eyebrows together in confusion. Hadn’t you physically recoiled at the thought of courting him just a few days ago when he said it as a joke?

Regardless, he mulled over what you had said. He knew you fairly well, and even though you weren’t usually bothered by a bit of gossip (you were spending time with him even though he was the world’s biggest rake, for heaven’s sake), he understood your hesitation.

“Does this mean you want me to properly court you?” he asked gently, not wanting to scare you off again.

Perhaps it was the sincerity in Anthony’s voice, or just you realizing the gravity of the situation, but you immediately tensed up.

“No, I don’t think so,” you started slowly, torn between helping Daphne and protecting yourself. But you had already made your choice. You loved your best friend, but not to the point of breaking all social decorum and asking a man to court you. “Not at all,” you laughed airily. “I know you’re not looking to marry, and honestly neither am I. It was just a silly comment, my apologies.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed.

You cursed Daphne’s brother for being so perceptive. How on earth could he tell exactly what you were feeling?

“I don’t know,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. God, this would be so much easier if you had feelings for him and wanted to court him. Then you could just say yes and stop feeling so guilty.

Seeing how torn you were, Anthony decided to let the subject lie. The season was still only beginning, and there would be yet time to figure out what exactly was going on between you.

However, letting the subject lie decidedly did not mean that he would stop thinking about it. In fact, it was the only thing he thought about for the rest of the night, completely missing an almost inappropriate kiss Mr Norwood left on Daphne’s hand.

--- 

Anthony hadn’t stopped thinking about the possibility of properly courting you the following morning. He sat in his sunroom, rereading the same paragraph for the sixth time as he tried to focus on anything other than your anxiety-filled eyes the previous night. 

“Y/N was looking rather lovely last night,” commented Daphne offhandedly as she worked on her needlepoint. 

“What?” said Anthony, startled out of his thoughts. He’d completely forgotten his sister was in the room with him, too. 

“Y/N, last night, looking lovely,” repeated Daphne, covertly looking at her brother as he remembered what you were wearing at Lady Danbury’s ball. 

“Err… I suppose she did look rather fetching, yes,” he responded awkwardly, shuffling the newspaper on his lap to another page. 

Then, looking at his sister suspiciously, he added, “But I wasn’t looking to get married this year, Daphne.”

You had told her about how you’d been unable to ask Anthony to court, of course. You had apologized profusely, but Daphne would hear none of it. Reassuring you that it was no problem, really, and that she understood your hesitation completely, Daphne had decided to shift her focus to her brother. It was true, a woman asking a man to dance was completely taboo, and it probably wouldn’t even have worked. So, although you hadn’t outright asked Anthony to court, you had certainly gotten the closest to it that a woman in polite society could. Now all he needed was a little push. 

“Neither was Y/N, to my understanding,” she responded, keeping her tone light and her eyes on her thread and needle. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Anthony waved dismissively. “She’s said it herself, I’m the biggest rake in Mayfair. Getting involved in her would only hurt her image in the long run.”

“Don’t be daft,” laughed Daphne. “You’re a Bridgerton. Rake or not, I doubt any association with you would taint her image in the slightest. She’s been involved with us for years! She’s my best friend, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Anthony humphed, annoyed that his little sister was making sense. Stubbornly, he continued, “Exactly, it’s not a good idea to bring feelings into a courtship, anyway. She’s been a friend of the family for ages.”

Daphne shrugged, slowly becoming more supportive of her best friend courting her brother, whether it was under false pretenses or not. “I certainly wouldn’t mind, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

After a pause, she added, “And how do you know the feelings are there? That’s what a courtship is for, isn’t it?” 

She was in quite a similar situation herself, though she could never tell Anthony lest he completely lose his mind. 

Daphne looked up at her brother, almost seeing the gears in his mind turning. 

“Do you really think I should?” he asked, setting down the newspaper beside him. 

“If you want,” she responded flippantly, knowing Anthony had already made up his mind. 

“Oh my word, it’s almost afternoon!” exclaimed Anthony, looking at the grandfather clock on the other side of the sunroom. “I should go now, I suppose. What if someone else has already come to call on her? Am I too late?”

Daphne, highly amused at her brother’s sudden sense of urgency, laughed. “Only one way to find out…” 

But Anthony didn’t hear her response, already rushing out of the room to grab his coat so he could go call on you. Properly. Like a gentleman. For the first time. 

And funnily enough, Anthony felt no fear, no anxiety, no dread. Nothing that he usually felt when thinking about courtship and marriage. He was simply excited to see you.

—

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[polyamorouspunk]

Me: I can’t believe I don’t have a polycule life is so unfair

Also me: *literally cannot go on a date with my gf without 1-3 other mandatory people being involved*

[helenisaweirdo]

think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

when they leave you—but don’t worry, they’ll come back.

ft; kaiser, sae

part 1 - kaiser

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

where was he?

you sat on the swings, a bag of warm bread on your lap. fifteen was probably too old to sit on the swings, but you really couldn’t care less. the bread was his favorite; michael’s favorite. you had even gotten the sugar and garlic flavored ones too—the ones that he always had the softest expression eating.

he was always there whenever you were there at the swings, usually with his soccer ball too. whether it was winter or summer, spring or autumn, you knew that you could always count on him to be there. your wallet sits lonesome in your pocket. he wasn’t even here to take your money either. (not donations, you would always tell him. you knew he wouldn’t accept anything you give him if he thought that you were donating.)

you stared up at the sky, your eyes flicking to your watch every 1 or 2 minutes, although it felt like hours. where was he?

⋆｡°✩₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧₊ °✦

2 years later

“pookieeee! come onnnn! let’s go! i heard that bastard münchen have themselves michael kaiser! i have a boyfriend and all, but he’s soooo hot! come on, just this once? i even bought bread

your best friend tugged on your arm, bright red and golden nails grasping onto your shirt. you froze. michael kaiser? no, no. can’t be. there are probably thousands of michael kaiser’s in the world. but if it’s really him, does that mean that his father finally left him alone? “okay, fine. just this once.” you muttered. “where’s the bread?”

.

after the match, all you could hear were screams, yelling, screams, yelling, screams, yelling, cheering, screams, yelling, and…yeah, nothing else.

bastard münchen won by a hefty amount. 5-1, yeah, that was pretty good. but it was the guy who was portrayed at least a thousand times on the screen. michael kaiser, that guy. okay, so looks like you were wrong. looks like it really was him. “come on, let’s go! my boyfriend’s waiting for us!”

before you could even open your mouth, your best friend was already dragging you to the locker room. “wait, no! i don’t wanna watch a bunch of sweaty teenage boys change! who knows what they do in there!” your best friend ignored your words as she pushed open the mahogany door to the locker room.

“i still have college ess-“

“oh, don’t be such a buzzkill. you have a 4.7 GPA! you’re fine.” your best friend cut you off before you could finish before running over to go hug her boyfriend, who scored a grand total of zero points for the team. you sighed and stood by the door, eyes searching around for michael. but since it’s been 2 years, you’d expect that he probably forgot about you already. he’d be 17 now, which is the prime age for hot guys to be dating a girl and being a dick.

you just didn’t expect a blue rose tattoo and long blonde hair to cover your sights, and a “long time no see, mein schatz” with a clear smirk in the words to flow through your ears.

———

bro this shit is so ass, i wrote this in like 5 minutes at 3 in the morning

BUT MY GLORIOUS KING KAISER HAS FINALLY BEEN ANIMATED AND VOICED ACTED BY MY GLORIOUS KING MAMORU MIYANO TOO YESSSS (the guy who voiced the loml chrollo and my husband atsumu)

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Not So Hidden Half

Part 2 of The Better, Hidden Half

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After Tim decided he didn't want to keep you hidden any longer, you meet the rest of his friends (colleagues, as he prefers), but not the way he planned.

Warnings: depiction of minor injuries (Tim), fluff, grumpy!Tim, Smitty, mentions of drugging

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

When Tim was infected by an unknown biological weapon, he told you that he wanted to stop keeping you separate from the rest of his life. You’re his better half, and he cares deeply about you and your safety, but that doesn’t mean you should be his hidden half. During his short stay in the hospital, Wade introduced you to Lucy Chen, Tim’s rookie, and John Nolan. Since then, however, Tim hasn’t done proper introductions or made any real changes. He has started wearing his wedding ring to work, though, rather than leaving it on a chain around your neck. Baby steps, maybe, but it’s progress.

Your phone rings while Tim is at work, and your breaths grow shallow when you see Wade’s name on the screen. The last time something happened to Tim, Angela called you; any time you see Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, or Talia Bishop’s names appear on your phone, your heart drops in fear for your husband.

“Hey, Wade,” you answer softly.

“Can you please come talk some sense into your husband?” he asks.

Wade's tone and accompanying sigh are all you need to hear to know he’s tired. Sirens have surrounded you all day, so you’re not surprised that something happened.

“About what?” you reply.

“Sorry for the surprise call,” he adds, “I know those can be concerning, so I’ll go ahead and tell you that Tim was in a minor accident, but he’s refusing to get looked at.”

“Shocking,” you joke. “I’ll be there soon. How is he?”

Wade begins to answer, but you hear Tim yell, “If I need a break, I will take one!” in the background.

“Sounds about the same as usual,” you say and answer your question. “See you in a few.”

“Thank you. You’re the best honorary cop I’ve got.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sergeant Grey.”

When you walk into the Mid-Wilshire Station, Tim and Wade are nowhere to be seen. You see Angela waiting nearby, and she rushes to hug you after you wave.

“Are you finally here to meet everyone? Since someone decided that he needed to talk to you alone to heal last time?” she asks playfully.

“I’m here because Tim is injured and stubborn,” you answer.

“And he’ll still be injured and stubborn after you meet the boots who can’t stop talking about you.”

“Is he okay?” you whisper.

“He’s fine. Barely injured, I promise.”

You nod and thank her before she leads you toward a small crowd of officers. Talia says hello, and the three in long sleeves stand up straighter when they see you.

“Mrs. Bradford, nice to see you again,” Lucy greets.

“You too, Officer Chen,” you reply.

“Lucy, please.”

“You’ve met Lucy and Nolan – however brief Tim kept it. And this is my rookie, Jackson West,” Angela introduces.

“Nice to meet you,” you offer with your handshake.

“So, you married Bradford?” he asks. “Why?”

You chuckle at the question but can’t answer your cliched answer of because I love him, and he’s really just a big softie under the sarcastic eye rolls and grumpy yelling before Nolan asks another question.

“At the hospital, you said less than five words to Tim, and he listened. No complaining, no hateful looks, just immediately obeyed. How do you do that?” Nolan inquires.

“Wait – how did you meet?” Jackson adds. “Let’s be chronological.”

Nolan nods in agreement, and you prepare to answer.

“Then I want to know your first thought of Tim. Before you met, just saw each other, whatever… what did you see that drew you in?” Lucy asks.

Angela and Bishop smile as your eyes bounce between the rookies and their never-ending questions. You can’t answer one before the next one is asked, and though you don’t feel the same, you can understand why Tim didn’t want you to meet them all at once.

“No!” Lucy exclaims. “Where did Tim propose?”

“The place where they met,” Talia answers.

Nolan turns quickly to yell, “You knew Tim was married! Why didn’t you mention her?”

“She’s not my wife,” Talia replies sarcastically. “Not my story to tell.”

“I would have talked about her because she’s my best friend,” Angela interjects. “But Tim threatened me.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Jackson says. “We’re just excited and shocked and have so many questions.”

“Mrs. Bradford?” a passing officer asks. “You’re too young to be Mom Bradford, and you’re not his sister…”

“I’m Tim’s wife,” you finish.

“This is Smitty,” Angela tells you.

She winks quickly, and you nod in understanding. You’ve heard plenty of stories about Smitty, and more than enough complaints when you’re alone with Tim. He seems unique, to put it lightly (and kinder than Tim does).

“You married Tim Bradford? Was he by any chance in possession of narcotics or mind-altering drugs when you met? Because it’s pretty easy to convince a woman to do something these days, just a little powder in an uncovered drink, you know,” Smitty continues.

“Smitty, have you drugged a woman before?” Nolan asks. His suspicion is evident in how he asks and the narrowing of his eyes.

“Well, Officer Smitty,” you begin. You nod at Angela, and her smile grows when she realizes you plan to play along.

Tim stands with a quiet grunt of pain. He stretches to the side to fight the growing stiffness and sees Lucy talking to a group of people. Smitty approaches the side, and Nolan steps back to reveal the focus of all of the attention. Tim doesn’t think twice and races out of Wade’s office to save you from the boots.

You address Smitty but don’t say anything more before Tim wraps his hand around your arm while the other grips your hip and pulls you backward. Tim moves you away from Angela and ignores the protests that follow your sudden departure. You don’t fight him as he leads you into Wade’s office. Wade looks up and mouths a relieved thank you.

“Tim, as much as I love meeting the people you pretend not to care about, would you please stop getting hurt and giving me an excuse to drop by unannounced?” you ask.

“I didn’t get hurt,” Tim argues.

His hands are still on you, so you turn in his hold to look at him. Several scrapes litter his left cheek, and you run a gentle finger under them. You can see that his shoulders are tense but you're grateful that his injuries seem to be limited to some stiffness and scrapes.

“What did Wade tell you?” Tim whispers.

“That you were being stubborn and not listening,” Wade mumbles behind you. “I’m surprised she believed me.”

Tim keeps his eyes on you but doesn’t comment further on his injuries or the rookies you just met. He looks down, and you follow his eyes to his hands. His left hand is wrapped tightly with gauze and bandages as he slides his right hand into his pocket.

“Had to take this off,” he tells you.

You extend your hand to accept his wedding ring and curl your fingers around it. After unhooking your necklace chain, you slide his ring on and keep it safe against your chest. Tim nods once it’s secure with you and pulls you to sit beside him. You lay a hand against his right cheek and smile as he leans against your hand. He leans in and kisses you quickly before glancing at Wade to ensure he isn’t watching.

“He’s seen us kiss before,” you remind Tim.

“And I will never let you forget it,” Wade agrees, focusing on the paperwork before him.

“No mind-altering drugs required,” Tim says with a small smile.

“Now I understand why you didn’t want me to meet Smitty.”

“I warned you.”

“Luckily, Angela introduced me to the rookies first, and I invited them over for dinner on Sunday. Wade, you and Luna are welcome to come, too, if you’d like,” you say.

Tim groans as Wade promises to pass the invitation on to Luna. You sit back carefully as Tim leans against you. He’s grumpy about your new connection with the boots but loves you. Tim meant it when he said he didn’t want to keep you hidden and risk wasting his life by separating from everything else that matters to him.

“Lucy won’t shut up,” he realizes with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, because I’m sure you carry half of the conversation as it is,” you tease. “Don’t forget how well I know you, Bradford.”

“As long as you don’t forget that I don’t like these people, Bradford,” Tim counters.

“You let Angela come over all the time. And don’t give me the whole ‘she scares me’ thing; you love her.”

Tim moves closer to you to whisper, “I love you more.”

“Then go get a full physical examination. Make sure all the handsomeness is still put together like it’s supposed to be.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Then maybe you don’t love me like you claim to. That’s why you leave your ring with me, right? Easier to bring women in when no one knows you’re married.”

Wade fails to hide a laugh before he covers it with a fake cough. Tim shakes his head but kisses you again before standing. You follow him to the door and thank Wade for the call. Tim waves everyone over, and Lucy beats the rest of them by a solid three seconds.

“Hi again,” she tells you.

“I’ll go see the medic if you rescind the dinner offer,” Tim tells you.

“You’ll go see the medic either way, so no,” you reply.

“We’ve decided a better way to ask questions, and we’ll give you time to breathe in the future,” Jackson says. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Jackson. I understand the excitement; not the shock because, I mean, look at him," you wave toward Tim and continue, "but it’s not every day that you meet Officer Grumpy’s secret wife.”

“Did you just gesture to me like I’m a game show prize?” Tim murmurs.

“Tim and I will be happy to answer all your questions at dinner. It was very nice to meet all of you, and if Smitty asks again, I was absolutely drugged.”

Tim drags you away once again, and Angela only hears him ask, “Officer Grumpy?” before the door closes behind you both.

You turn and place a hand under Tim’s chin. One touch, a smile, and a kiss turn Tim back into your loving husband. He didn’t realize that keeping you separate from his work life gave you a unique power over him because he’s never had to hide his love for you or the physical affection he’s grown to crave.

“Be careful,” you request softly. “And call me if they find any other injuries.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tim answers.

“Don’t,” you warn.

“You kissed me first.”

“Thanks for letting me be part of your life, Tim.” He nods and kisses you slowly, but you push him away to warn him, “Ask Angela to tell you about Smitty before he says anything about our relationship.”

“You talked to Smitty, too? Maybe I should start leaving you at home again.”

“I love you,” you call over your shoulder.

“I love you,” Tim replies.

He walks back into the station with two things on his mind: learning what Smitty thinks about you and Tim that was worth a warning and getting home to you. Your touch, kiss, and the soft return of his ring will always be the best part of Tim’s day, and even though he wears his ring more often now, you still pull him in because he needs you more than he’s ever needed the ring.

[murdockparker]

Bridgerton Masterlist

* = indicates 18+ rating

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Foolish Endeavor * (not complete)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 * , Part 8

Benedict Bridgerton was certainly no fool. Bad at cards, sure, a bit taller than most, that was a given, but he was seldom called a fool. Though, one could argue that falling for your best friend was a foolish endeavor, indeed.

Summer Nights

Benedict was born to be a father, she was sure of it.

Our Cottage

A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.

A Million Dreams

He didn’t believe he could be so taken with her, taken with such a lady of the ton. If only she were to stay in London, stay with him.

In the Oven *

She was never all that good at baking, so perhaps a bit of assistance from her husband would be a sufficient help?

Expectations

While the honeymoon may be well and over, the new Mrs Bridgerton has yet to make her presence in the ton since the wedding. Anxious as ever, she listens to her husband and gives it a go.

Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker

Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family’s bakery. She just hadn’t expected to have met him in such a state.

Of the Same Mind

A mutual distaste in a certain author—should he even have the grace to be called that—leads to an unexpected meeting.

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Roses and Regrets * (not complete)

Part 1 , Part 2 * , Part 3

Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Coming soon!

[fishfooddude]

The Aftermath

Carmy left- he just left? Where the heck was he? Was he even alive? Your anxiety almost gets the best of you.

The Bear MasterList

Directory

Part 2

MDNI 18+

You groaned as you stretched, trying to crack your back. You’d been cleaning all afternoon, Carmy was still MIA, and this was the one thing you knew would distract you enough not to storm into The Bear demanding to know where your husband had been last night. You hopped up on the counter and grabbed your phone from the charger. A knot formed in the back of your throat when you saw a text from Carmy displayed on your lock screen.

Sorry about last night, baby.

On my way home.

“Okay. Fuck you, Carmy. At least you’re alive.” you mumbled to yourself before hopping down from the counter and going down the hallway to your bedroom. You knew the two of you would have a screaming match when he got home; you rolled your eyes at the thought. He was usually predictable; this running away from home debacle threw you for a loop. Since the fighting was inevitable, you opted to take care of yourself a little bit at least, and an everything-shower seemed like the move.

Pregnancy was hard; you were in a constant state of nausea, you were exhausted, you had almost daily migraines toward the end, and, oh boy… hormones were interesting. You gained a decent amount of weight, but loved how you looked. Carrying Mia made every body insecurity you had vanish. You felt powerful as she grew in your womb, and the feelings were only amplified by the way Carmy would caress your stomach at night when he’d get home from work. He’d pepper kisses across your stomach and talk to Mia as he helped you rub shea butter in an attempt to prevent stretch marks. You laughed about it now as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Cellulite, stretch marks, loose skin, and a c-section scar decorated your body. All those insecurities you’d thought vanished returned as soon as you showered for the first time post-partum. You didn’t want anyone to see you, especially Carmy. 

You’d always been so secure in your relationship with Carmy. Something ignited within you when you saw him sitting at the bar by himself the night the two of you met. He was sexy and aloof. You had turned to your friend and told her, ‘I’m gonna marry that guy,’ and cocked your head in Carmy’s direction. She gave you a nod of approval, and you were off. He was shy and confused about why the prettiest girl in the bar would want to talk to some loner drinking a ginger ale instead of one of the guys coming up to her throughout the night. After months of casual hookups or late-night lounging around his apartment, Carmy found the courage to take you out on an actual date. After that, you declared he was your boyfriend. He admitted to being in love with you and was overjoyed when you returned the sentiment. Carmy was your knight in shining armor. You knew he was in your corner if you ever had a problem or needed to talk about something. It was you and him against the world, and it only amplified when he proposed to you. The two of you had a small wedding on the beach and decided to travel for a few months. When the two of you started dating, Carmy recounted tales from his time in culinary school- you were shocked that the man had lived in Frances for years but hadn’t explored the city beyond his campus or the restaurants he worked at. Exploring Europe together felt like a dream; it was everything you’d wanted to do with him. The two of you hadn’t planned on having kids, but after a couple of years of living as a married couple and buying your home, it felt like a natural progression to just ‘see what would happen’ if you got off of your birth control.

Now you stood in the shower while your mother took care of your baby and your bitch of a husband hid at work. You sighed and exited the shower, wrapping your hair in a towel and tying your bathrobe at the waist. You checked your phone to see no new messages from Carmy and that Natalie had left you on read.

As you blow-dried your hair, you couldn’t shake the thoughts of Carmy doing something dumb last night. You knew he’d never cheat on you, but the curiosity about where he’d gone was killing you. You took your time blowing out your hair and doing your skincare routine. As you brushed your teeth, you heard the front door open. “Hey… I’m home.” Carmy’s voice called through the house. Your stomach twisted at the sound. You took a deep breath and quickly put on deodorant before walking out of the bathroom in a pair of fresh pajamas. After contemplating jumping out the window to avoid this conversation from happening, you cautiously exited the bedroom. You went down the hallway to see Carmy washing his hands in the kitchen.

“Hey.” you grinned, rubbing your arm nervously. Carmy inhaled sharply before closing the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, feeling the stress of the day melt away as he took in the scent of your conditioner. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have left like that,” he spoke into your hair. You sighed and hesitantly hugged him; he rubbed circles into your back and wished to go back in time and change what had happened. 

“Where were you? You’ve never done something like that before- I thought you were dead or something Carmy.” Carmy tucked your head under his chin and contemplated what he should say. He knew he’d have to come clean eventually but wanted to relish in this moment.

“I just drove around and went to work early.” he lied, hoping you’d not push it further. Natalie had ripped him a new one when he’d confessed the details of his indiscretion. She ranted about how she’d feel if Pete had treated her like that; she’d kick his ass to the curb. “You realize she’s gonna leave your ass, right? You absolutely can not sleep at my house- Carmen Anthony Berzatto, you’re no better than Dad.” before he could respond, Natalie threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t come clean to you about what happened. Carmy wanted to tell you, but being compared to his father was something he hadn’t expected Natalie to say. He didn’t know the guy that well, but he knew a little about the cheating. He didn’t have a second family or kids outside his marriage with Donna, but he saw the hurt it put her through and vowed never to be like the man. Now he stood in his kitchen holding his wife- the love of his fucking life, lying about his whereabouts from the night before. Yeah, he didn’t get past third base, but would he have gone all the way if he had gotten hard? Would you constitute this as cheating? Would you leave him and keep Mia from him? He pushed the thoughts back and pressed his nose into your hair. He took in the scent of your conditioner, just in case this was the last time.

You pulled away from the hug and nodded, “Okay. I trust you, but never do something like that again. You scared the crap out of me.” 

Carmy and you sat at the dining room table that night and talked about your insecurities postpartum and that while you were medically cleared to have sex, you were nervous about the actual act. He nodded, and you felt vindicated. You kissed his cheek and headed into the kitchen to order dinner. Carmy grinned and fished his phone out of his pocket. He deleted his text chain with Selena and quickly blocked her number before you came back to ask if he had any preferences for dinner. Carmy shook his head, “Whatever you want, baby.”

The two of you ate dinner in the living room and watched the newest cheesy romcom on Netflix. Carmy sat back and took in the moment. It was like when the two of you had started dating. You’d always had some kind of freelance video editing job or some other creative endeavor that gave you a good amount of flexibility in your schedule. No matter how late he’d get off, you were always down to come over, watch a movie, eat takeout, or whatever new recipe he was trying to perfect. You explained that quality time was your main language, so as long as you were together, you were happy doing whatever with him. 

As the movie continued, you’d put your head on Carmy’s chest and held onto his waist. He had an arm around your shoulder- he stunk of his usual kitchen smells and smoke, but there was another scent you couldn’t quite place. “I should probably shower if you wanna cuddle, baby.” he laughed as you pushed a hand under the hem of his T-shirt. Carmy had long forgotten about the hickey that decorated his collarbone. You hummed in disagreement, “Your BO is comforting Carm…” 

Carmy laughed and kissed the top of your head. Carmy tapped your shoulder as the movie ended, signaling he wanted to get off the couch: “I need a shower, baby.” He shifted in his seat, and you looked up at him. “Kiss me?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. Carmy swallowed and hurriedly nodded as he gently placed his lips on yours. You smiled into the kiss as the taste of tobacco and spearmint flooded your tastebuds. You removed your hand from under Carmy’s shirt and put it on his cheek. Carmy wasn’t sure where to put his hands. This felt like a 180 from the previous day, confusing and excited him.

You threw a leg over Carmy’s hips to straddle him as the kiss turned more passionate. Carmy’s hands found your hips; his touch felt like electricity shooting through your body in the best way. You pulled away from the kiss, gently pulling Carmy’s bottom lip between your teeth, eliciting a deep throaty moan from him. You ran your hands down Carmy’s chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of your nails tickling his skin through the material of his shirt. “Still need me, baby?” you asked, leaning in to kiss Carmy’s jaw. “Still need to be inside of me?” you said as you trailed kisses up his jaw toward his earlobe. You felt his cock harden beneath you as you rolled your hips against him. Carmy’s grip on your hips tightened at the sensation, “Please, baby.” he whined. You giggled at his response and slowly swirled your tongue around Carmy’s earlobe before leaning back on his thighs. Carmy leaned back into the couch. His eyes were dark with lust as you reached for the hem of your shirt, quickly discarding it. 

Carmy’s eyes widened at the sight of your bare breasts, “Fuckin’ hell, baby.” he muttered. You bit your lip as Carmy stared at you, “Can-can I-” Carmy began to stutter before you cut him off by bringing one of his hands to your chest. “Fuck.” Carmy laughed as he snaked an arm around your waist to bring you closer. You giggled as Carmy massaged your breast in his large, calloused hand, “Baby- fuck, you’re so sexy.” 

You moaned softly as Carmy gently pushed you back onto the couch before trailing delicate kisses down your stomach to the top of your pajama shorts. As eager as he was to remove them, he still felt like he was dreaming. Your eyes met and you nodded, Carmy bit his lip holding back a groan. He swiftly yanked the soft cotton material down your legs to reveal your lack of panties. He smirked as he spread your legs wider and stared down at your core like a starved animal. 

“Carmy?” you asked softly, “Do you want me to stop?” he responded, hoping you would say ‘no.’ You shook your head, “Be gentle?” you whispered. Carmy nodded, “Of course, baby. Say, stop, and I will…” 

Carmy put your legs over his shoulders and nuzzled his face between your thighs, placing delicate kisses against your folds. Your legs shook as he ran his tongue up to your clit, “Mmm,” you hummed as he took your clit between his lips. “Oooh,” you moaned as Carmy slowly pushed his index finger into your entrance. Your reaction only fueled Carmy’s desire to please you. As your juices flooded his tastebuds, you bucked your hips up against his mouth, making him moan against your clit.

“I need you,” you whined, pulling at Carmy’s hair. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away from your heat. “What do you need me to do, baby?” Carmy teased. You giggled as he moved to hover above your body. You pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to feel his skin against yours. 

Carmy’s body tensed. You noticed the color drain from his face, the weight of his actions from the night prior finally hitting him. “Are you okay, Carmen?” you asked as you stopped pulling at his shirt. He nodded, “Yeah-h.” 

You didn’t believe him. “You’re being weird. I don’t care that you’re gross from work. I want you.” You looked into his eyes and could sense he was hiding something from you. “I’m not being weird,” he said defensively. You shook your head, pushed up at his chest, and sat up against the arm of the couch. “You literally left last night because I didn’t want to have sex- now I want you and you’re being fuckin’ weird. Take your clothees off and fuck me.” you demanded, Carmy swallowed and sat up on the couch. He shouldn’t have let it go this far, you rolled your eyes and yanked his shirt off. 

“What the fuck is that!” you screamed when you saw the dark purple hickey decorating his collar bone, Carmy stared at you nervously. “YOU FUCKIN’ LIAR!” you screamed louder pushing yourself off the couch picking up your T-shirt from the floor. 

“Baby, I swear—I didn’t—" Carmy explained as he scrambled to his feet as you walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. Your blood boiled at the thought of Carmy fucking another woman last night while he was ‘getting air,’ “YOU’RE A FUCKING LIAR GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD CARMEN!” you screamed at the top of your lungs as you glared at him as tears started to fall from your eyes. Carmy’s face regained color and softened in reaction to your screams. 

“Y/N, it was a mistake! We didn't have sex because I couldn’t get hard-” Carmy attempted to explain the situation, and you shook your head in response. “That’s fuckin’ bullshit! Get out!” you screamed through your tears.

Carmy dropped to his knees and reached out for your hand. You slapped it away and ignored his begs to hear him out and let him explain what had happened. “No. No. I don’t want to- that’s why you wanted to fuckin’ shower so bad, right?! Didn’t want to fuck your wife with your dirty fuckin’ cock you fucking liar!” you screamed as you attempted to pull your wedding ring off of your finger. When it wouldn’t budge, you screamed in frustration and slammed the bedroom door. 

Carmy fell back and brought his knees to his chest, the weight of his actions truly hitting him when you had tried to take off your wedding ring. He really had ruined his marriage. Carmy heard your sobs through the door as he got up, “Y/N- it was a mistake. I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much-” 

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE CARMEN! I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

~

Tag List

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Part 4

[potatoplace]

Mastermind - Part 2

Dark!Feysand x Reader

Part 1 | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: non-con, abduction, being kept prisoner, smut, drug use (pot)

Words: ~5k

Author's Note: it's here! Feyre... you live in my head rent free so often... also this is just like a purely self indulgent fic at this point, I think it'll be a mini-series. Please read the warnings!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You woke up with a headache and a confusing ache between your legs.

Your bed was comfier than usual, and so, so warm. Almost like you had a heated blanket going. You mouth cracked open into a yawn, and you stretched your limbs as far as you could-

Which wasn't far.

Both your legs and arms bumped into something solid and warm, surrounding you on both sides.

Your eyes flew open, very, very confused when you saw your friend Feyre laying to your right, and her husband Rhys on your left and-

You're naked.

Completely bare between the two of them, with absolutely no memory of how you got there. Your face flushed with heat.

God, what have I done?

Your tried to wiggle your way out from between the two of them, but one of Rhys's arms merely locked tighter around you, pulling you further against him.

He's naked. You could feel him hardening against you already as he stirred slightly, burying his face in your hair.

You struggled slightly, trying to move away from him, he's your friend's husband for crying out loud.

"What's wrong, sweetness?" Feyre's sleep heavy voice asked from your right. Her hand moved up your thigh and over your stomach, coming to rest between your breasts.

You pushed her hand off of you. "I'm so confused right now, Fey, why are Rhys and I naked? I should go," you said, moving to sit up, but Feyre's hand shot out to keep you down, and between her and Rhys you were powerless to move.

"You're never going to leave us again, darling," Feyre said, wiggling closer to you and pressing her body against yours- she was naked as well.

What the fuck did I do last night?

"Feyre, let me up," you demanded, doing your best to get her hand off of you, but in your struggle you must have woken Rhys up.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" His sultry voice sent shivers down your spine. Your always found it attractive, but now? Trapped between him and your best friend? You wanted nothing more than to bolt out of their apartment and back to yours and never come back out.

"Rhysie, she's trying to leave," Feyre said poutily, hand rubbing circles onto your stomach.

"And why would our sweet little kitten want to leave, hmm?" He asked, lips finding your neck and pressing soft kisses along the expanse of it. "You were so happy last night, sweet thing, what changed?"

You shook your head- this was wrong, all of this was wrong. And Rhys's lips had brought to your attention something wrapped around your neck snugly.

"This isn't right, I can't even remember what happened last night," you said, tears leaking from your eyes now, and you brought a hand up to your throat, fingering the fabric on your neck. Is it leather? Is it-

"You put a collar on me?" You asked, disbelief in your voice as your fingers attempted to tear the item from your body.

"I figured you might freak out, sweetness," Feyre tutted from beside you, a hand raising your grasp both of yours. "You're ours now, Y/N, you just need a little help realizing that. That's what the cute little collar is for, just to keep you from running away like the silly little kitten I think you might be." Feyre's voice was soft but condescending as she explained it to you, but you were still so lost.

"I don't understand, Fey," you cried, attempting to pull your body out of their embraces. "We're friends, you're married. This isn't okay."

Rhys shushed you, running his hands over your hair. "We might be married, but you're the secret missing piece we've been looking for, kitten. From the moment Feyre introduced me to you, I knew what she meant when she said she had to have you. Neither of us can resist how absolutely sweet and lovely you are." You went to open your mouth to protest, but Feyre's mouth covered yours in a heated kiss. "You'll realize just how much you can't resist us either, soon," Rhys added when he felt you involuntarily relax into Feyre's dominating hold over you.

"As for the not remembering last night..." Feyre started when she finally pulled away from claiming your mouth. "I think I know the perfect way to fix that," she said with a smirk, already moving down below the blankets and between your thighs.

"Feyre stop," you pleaded. "I don't want this, I want to go home," you cried, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Really?" Feyre asked with a smirk, dragging a finger through your folds and collecting the wetness that had pooled there. "Because this sweet little pussy says otherwise."

Tears fell from your eyes faster, shame welling within you as Feyre sucked her finger clean, closing her eyes as she did so. Feyre lowered her mouth to your sex in the next moment, not wasting any time in working you up to your breaking point.

You were still so sensitive from whatever they had done to you last night, and with Feyre’s tongue working your clit like magic you could hardly keep yourself still, even as Rhys pinned down your torso. One of his hands was fondling your breast and keeping you in the bed while the other ran through your hair and kept your face tilted towards Feyre.

You could see her face well again, now that the blanket had slid further down the bed while you twitched and writhed in their hold and against the pleasure Feyre was giving you. Her eyes were locked on your face, taking in every detail as you got closer and closer to the brink with every delicious swipe of her tongue.

To you it was wrong, all wrong. You didn’t want to be reacting, to even be warming their bed at all, yet you were trapped here as the couple worked you into your first orgasm of the morning against your will.

The strangled moan that left your throat was enough to have Feyre smirking up at you from between your thighs.

“See? You love us, and what we can give you. And we love you, Y/N.”

“No you don’t, Feyre, this isn’t love,” you cried softly, too tired and ashamed to put up much of fight anymore.

“It is, darling. We love you,” Rhys reiterated, peppering your neck and face with kisses as if to prove his point. “Now, will you let us feed you? I imagine you’re hungry after all the work we did last night,” he said with a dirty grin, two fingers pinching your right nipple.

Feyre began to move back up the bed and you took the opportunity to roll to your right into the spot that she had occupied while the three of you slept. Feyre sighed.

“Rhys, you can go take a shower and then start breakfast, okay? I’ll get this one into the shower after a little more… persuasion,” Feyre said in a disappointed tone.

Rhys chuckled, but got up from the bed anyway and walked into the bathroom. “Tell me pancakes or waffles after I come back out, darling.”

Feyre’s hands were pulling your back against her front snugly, allowing no room for you to escape the soft press of her body. Once you’d calmed a bit, she let one of her hands snake down between your thighs, gathering a bit of wetness from your center and then rubbing quick circles on your clit.

So sensitive. Her deft fingers brought you to completion twice in the time it took Rhys to finish showering and enter the room for his clothing.

You were a whimpering mess by the time he rounded to the side of the bed you were facing, leaning into Feyre’s embrace as she forced you closer and closer to a third orgasm in such rapid succession.

“I see, you’re just more comfortable with Feyre, hmm?” Rhys asked as he pulled your lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess I’ll just have to spend every waking second of the next week getting you used to me,” Rhys said with a smile before heading to leave the room.

“Pancakes,” Feyre told him, right as her fingers brought you to your fourth orgasm of the morning.

“Got it, darling. Make sure to actually get her in the shower, okay?”

Feyre’s merely lowered her lips to the left side of your neck, sucking a pair of dark, claiming marks over the spaces that Rhys had left unmarked.

Your breathy, contented sigh shocked you so thoroughly you jerked from Feyre’s hold finally and landed on the carpeting.

“Oh, sweetness, still afraid of liking us?” Feyre asked amusedly, bringing herself to the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over that in a couple of days, I think. Unless you decide to be a brat and fight your fate which, I might add, is useless. Rhys and I love you, Y/N.”

You shook your head at her words. “This is wrong, Feyre, you know it’s wrong. You can’t just keep me here,” you said indignantly, getting up from the floor on shaky legs and attempting to cover yourself with your arms.

“Why not?”

You scoffed. “Because, Feyre, I am a human being and not a pet. I have a life and people that care about me, you can’t just abduct me and get away with it!”

“People that care about you? You have me, Y/N. Your family is mostly dead and the ones that are alive, you don’t talk to! And you even told me that I’m the first friend you made in Velaris, you belong with me. You have belonged to me ever since I first saw you in that coffee shop.”

“What about my job? I have a job, Feyre, they will be worried when I don’t actually start in a few days,” you told her desperately, hoping for any shred of the kindness you’d thought your friend had possessed before today to shine through.

“At the marketing firm? Rhys owns it, sweetie, his cousin Mor manages it. She already knows that you won’t be starting, you have a much better life set up for you now.”

You stared at her in shock. Had everything about your life recently been one big set up?

"What did you do Feyre?" You asked her, despair lacing your tone. If she was telling the truth, then there was no way out of this for you. And-

Oh my god. Your apartment here. Feyre had recommended it.

"I didn't do anything, Y/N. I suggested the job at the marketing firm because you were working yourself to the bone at that coffee shop, dear. I couldn't stand to see you suffer," Feyre explained, prowling across the room to stand in front of you. You were backed against the corner of the room now, with nowhere to go. "And I suggested the apartment here because we have good security, and I've seen the way your regulars would look at you, like they were just waiting to snatch you when the opportunity presented itself." One of Feyre's hands comes up to cup your face, following you as you turned away, still finding its mark. She turned your face back to look at her, and her eyes held such a fiercely protective look, you almost couldn't get your next words out.

"How are you any better than them?" You asked quietly, instantly taking note of how her eyes darkened with anger. "You snatched me away, Feyre, not any of those men. So how are you-"

Feyre surged forward, cutting your words off by slotting her mouth over yours. The kiss was harsh, claiming as she pulled your naked body against hers even as you struggled and tried to pull away.

"I love you, Y/N. And I would never, ever hurt you..." Feyre trailed off as her fingers played with your hair once you'd stopped fighting her. You opened your mouth to refute that claim, but she started speaking before you could. "I am not hurting you, sweetness. You simply don't know what is best for you right now, and sometimes we just need to be shown the right path." You went to argue again- "Now, if you don't shower with me, you won't be given any clothes to wear for the next week," Feyre said with finality.

Fight her, continue to feel disgusting in the off chance that she doesn't still force you to shower, and have no clothes for a whole seven days, or don't fight her, deal with it this once, and have clothes.

You didn't fight as Feyre steered you by the shoulders into their grand bathroom, stopping by the large triple sink counter. She carefully removed the collar from your neck with some type of key, then led you straight into the massive shower that had four huge, separate shower heads- one on each of the three walls, and one overhead.

You turned around right as Feyre started the shower, turning on just the three wall spouts. Water hit you from three sides, and Feyre came at you from the remaining one.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Feyre asked softly as she ran her hands over your body, passing over your nipples far more times than you felt was necessary. You shook your head. All that you could vaguely remember was getting to the bar Feyre had suggested. “That’s too bad, sweetness. You were very eager last night,” she said with a smile, and your cheeks flushed. “Don’t worry, at some point you’ll be able to admit to yourself how much you want us. For now we’ll just keep reminding you how much we want you.”

Feyre gently tipped your head back to wet your hair, taking her time to get it soaked in the warm spray. Her nails scratched lightly along your scalp, and you nearly sighed at the soft gesture.

This is not the same friend you’ve known all these months, you reminded yourself.

Before today, you would have never guessed you would be taking a shower with Feyre. A small part of you had maybe dreamed about it, but never would you have thought it would become a reality. Especially with the added element of you being forced.

Still, you couldn’t help but relax into Feyre’s gentle grasp and she shampooed your hair, then rinsed the lather from it, being careful to not get any suds in your eyes. The shampoo smelled just like the one you used before all of this happened. Strange. When Feyre began putting a thick conditioner in your hair, you realized it.

They don’t just smell like the products you use at home, they are the products you use at home.

Your accusatory glare hit Feyre once she was done rubbing the conditioner in.

“What?” Feyre asked innocently as she wet her own hair.

“Why do you know what products I use?”

Feyre smiled. “I pay attention, dear. I wanted to make the transition as comfortable as possible for you, so I got everything I could think of that you use regularly. Now, will you help me wash my hair?”

You didn’t move.

“Pleaaase, Y/N?” Feyre asked again, a pouty look on her face now, one that you were rarely able to resist.

“Fine. Which bottles?” You conceded, grabbing the shampoo bottle she pointed to and squeezing some out into the palm of your hand. You lathered it up, then set to working it through Feyre’s thick, golden brown hair. When you rinsed her hair, you wanted to let soap run into her eyes, but couldn’t let yourself for some reason. You repeated the process of working the conditioner through Feyre’s hair, and once you were done she turned around to fade you again.

“Time to rinse yours, cutie,” Feyre said, already tipping your head back into the water to rid your hair of conditioner. Again, her nails scraped along your scalp gently, just enough to get your body to relax more. When she finished, she grabbed a cloth and loaded it with body wash, one that smelled of lilacs and pears- very Feyre. Feyre soaped up your body slowly, lingering in the sensitive areas as long as she could before you started to fight her hold again. She helped you rinse off, then extended the cloth to you. “Do me?”

You shook your head. No. “I already washed your hair, Feyre, just let me get out please.”

Feyre sighed, and started washing her body. “You can’t get out yet, you still need to wash your face. I’d suggest it after last night,” Feyre said with a wink, and your stomach churned.

You don’t really want to know what that comment was about. But you wash and exfoliate your face nonetheless, using the identical products to those you had before, finishing just as Feyre was done washing her own face.

She turned the water off, and grabbed two fluffy towels off of the rack for the both of you. She wrapped one around herself, then patted you dry, taking her time to get every inch of skin and dry your hair as much as she could before she dried herself off.

Feyre went to the sink closest to the shower, and you spotted all of your skincare and hair care products lined up attractively behind the middle sink. Feyre was already doing her routine as you examined the bottles and jars, picking out what you wanted to use.

At least they’re giving you something normal.

Once the two of you had finished, Feyre locked the collar back onto your neck, then pulled you back into their bedroom, the massive bed lurking in your vision no matter where you turned. Feyre grabbed two sets of clothing, pulling on her own outfit. First was a lacy black set of lingerie that looked flawless on her, then a pair of black leggings, a rich brown sweater, and slippers.

She then forced you to let her dress you, slipping a pair of blush pink panties up your legs to settle snugly on your hips, and a matching colored bralette over your breasts, which she had for once refrained from squeezing. Your arms were lifted above your head to let a soft pink, long sleeved peasant dress fall over your body, and you were instructed to sit to allow Feyre to put white knee high socks onto your legs and slip your feet into cute pink slipper booties. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as Feyre dragged you out of the bedroom. You look cute, if you had to describe the outfit. It’s similar enough to the style you wear on your off time, though everything seems to be made of higher quality materials than what you were able to afford.

The door to the bedroom led to a short hallway, which Feyre led you to the open end of, coming out in the living room. The two of you walked to dining table, near the far end of the open concept room. There was already a good amount of food on the table, and Rhys was just walking away from the stove with a large plate of pancakes in hand, a large smile spreading across his face when he spotted the both of you.

“And I was just thinking I might have to come and get you girls,” he said with a grin. “Come and sit down, breakfast is ready.”

Rhys pulled out a chair for you, pushing you in once you’d sat down and repeated the gesture with Feyre, who was sitting to your left. Rhys then took the seat to your right at the head of the table and began piling food onto your plate. A couple of sausages, pieces of bacon, chunks of cut up melon, and of course pancakes.

You didn’t think you could eat.

If you had woken up in a separate bed this morning, all of this would feel normal enough. Feyre and Rhys had let you stay over once before, and the following morning had a breakfast similar to this.

But everything had changed, you weren’t here because your friends were kind and invited you, you were here because they had trapped you here. You had a collar wrapped around your neck, that alone would be reason enough for you to want to leave.

“Eat up, darling,” Rhys said as he moved on to plating his own food.

You stayed still, staring down at the food that had your stomach turning.

Feyre’s elbow nudged you gently, and you instinctively looked to your left.

“Go ahead and eat, Y/N,” Feyre said gently. When you still didn’t move, she sighed. “Not eating won’t do anything for you, sweetness. Have just one of everything, please,” she begged, using her soft eyes that were so hard to resist.

So, even with your stomach protesting, you lifted a bite of pancake to your mouth, chewing and swallowing but tasting nothing. Maybe if you play along for a little bit, they’ll let their guard down and you can escape.

Feyre and Rhys chatted about their jobs as the three of you ate- Feyre about her studio, and Rhys about the various businesses under the Night Corporation umbrella. You choked down each bite of food, doing your best to keep attention off of you.

A phone ringing cut through their chatter, and Feyre sighed as she picked it up.

“What?” She asked, annoyance clear in her tone. “Can’t you deal with it? I have something important today,” Feyre said, shooting a smile your way. The person on the other end replied with something that made Feyre groan. “Fine, I’ll be there in a half hour.”

Feyre dropped her phone onto the table and ran her hands over her eyes. “Well, I have to go into the studio, apparently the art class has taken a drastic turn that only I can fix,” Feyre whined. “Will you be okay here with just Rhys, sweetness?”

You raised a brow at her. “As though I have a choice?”

Rhys chuckled at your words. “That’s true, Fey, she’s stuck with me for the day. I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.” Dread pooled in your stomach at his words. You don’t want to know what type of ‘care’ he has in mind.

Feyre was still staring at you, like she wanted to say something, then looked away when she stood up. “I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour, but I’ll text you to let you know if there’s anything that will hold me up,” she remarked as she placed a kiss on Rhys’s cheek, and one on yours as well. “Love you guys!” Feyre said as she was walking out of the door, purse in hand.

“Love you darling!”

In the silence that followed the door slamming shut, the dread in your stomach grew.

“So, would you like a little tour?” Rhys asked, already stacking your breakfast plates together.

You stared at him. “A tour?”

Rhys smiled. “Yes, darling, a tour. You need to know your way around now that you’re living here. And don’t say no, this is mandatory,” he added when you shook your head.

He placed the dishes in the sink before smoking back to the table, pull in out your chair and extending a hand to help you stand. You ignore it, standing on your own, which made Rhys sigh.

“Right this way, darling,” Rhys said, pulling you by the hand back towards the hallway containing their bedroom. You dug your feet into the ground, unwilling to enter the bedroom with him. Rhys stopped walking and turned to face you. “What’s the problem, doll?”

“I am not going to take this sham of a ‘tour’ if it just means that you’re going to rape me.”

Rhys’s eyes softened at your words, and he pulled you into a hug even as your tried to resist his hold. “Oh, darling. You won’t have to worry about that. I won’t fuck you until you are begging for my cock.”

“Like that will ever happen,” you spat, finally wrenching yourself free of his grasp.

“Oh, it will,” Rhys said assuredly, smirking down at you. “Now, will you let me give you the tour?”

You sighed, but did feel mildly better knowing that he supposedly wouldn’t be forcing himself on you. “Fine."

He continued to lead you back down the hallway their their bedroom resided, but stopped at the doorway opposite it. He swung it open, and gestured for you to walk inside. When you did, your jaw dropped.

It’s as though they had gone into your mind and plucked your perfect bedroom out of it just to recreate it here. The walls were in a soft, dusty pink color with a pale cream ceiling. There was fluffy pink carpet on the floor, looking so soft and squishy you wanted to be barefoot on it. At the far end of the room was a large canopy bed, decorated in hues of pink and purple, with a mound of pillows against the wall. There was a dresser and large closet off to the left, and on the right there was a small sitting area gathered around a table with a tv on it, your favorite consoles already lined up and plugged in, along with stacks and stacks of your favorite games. There was even a cute pink mini fridge and little snack shelf, all filled with your favorites.

“Do you like it?” Rhys asked hesitantly from his place in the doorway.

“Do I-?” You stopped to laugh. “Do I like it? It’s like the two of your read my mind. How?”

Rhys’s cheeks colored slightly as he met your eyes. “Feyre had the idea to look through your Pinterest, and you had a board dedicated to your dream room, so she worked tirelessly to get this ready for you.”

The thought and effort would have been sweet- were they not keeping you here against your will.

You just sighed and shook your head. “Is there more to the tour?”

Rhys nodded and grabbed you by the hand once more. He showed you around to the various guest rooms, the guest bathroom, then to Feyre’s home studio and his office, and finally you were back to the living room. The two of you were stood in front of the couches, looking out at their pool and massive patio.

“Do you want to play a game together?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the double TV and console set up in front of you. “We can play whatever you want, you can even play alone,” he offered.

Strangely, this request put you at ease even more than him saying he wouldn’t fuck you. Almost like it confirmed that the Rhys you had known was still in there, just… different. Darker.

“I don’t know…”

“We could smoke a joint,” Rhys said in a sing-songy voice, having grabbed one out of a box on the coffee table. “Or two. Or three. Just something to help you get your mind of things, maybe?”

The offer was tempting. You could pretend like you were just hanging out at your friends’ house and playing a video game with him.

“Sure, why not?”

The feeling of smoke filling your lungs calmed you down, settling you into a sleepy state where you weren’t thinking about the situation and how fucked up it is, just the passing flow of the river of your thoughts. You and Rhys shared two joints together on the patio, passing it between puffs.

“You know that Feyre cares about you, right?” Rhys asked as he took the second lit joint from you. You exhaled the smoke from your mouth, watching as it was whipped away by the wind.

“I don’t know that I would call this,” you gestured around you and at the collar, “caring about me.”

Rhys sighed. “But it is, Y/N. I know we went about it in a twisted way, but Feyre and I truly want you to be happy and safe. And before you ask, no, I won’t let you go. Just give us some time, you’ll come see how nice your life can be here and how much we care about you.”

You took the joint back from him with a pout, annoyed with him now. Sure, they care about me enough to steal me away and lock me up, but not enough to let me make the choice myself.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Rhys laughed sadly. “No, you don’t. But giving us a chance will make this much more enjoyable for you.”

You took another long drag before passing the joint back to Rhys’s waiting fingers.

“Will you… would you convince Feyre to not… touch me until I’m begging?” You asked hopefully, knowing that that day would never come now.

Rhys eyed you carefully. “I can talk to her about that, if it would make you feel more at ease around us darling."

A weight was lifted off your chest at his confirmation that he would wrangle Feyre in. He let you take the last drag before putting the joint out, and followed you back into the living room.

“Do you have Minecraft?” You asked hopefully, wanting to dick around and maybe build a cute house.

“Of course, darling,” Rhys said, booting up the TVs and consoles, passing a pink controller to you.

Within a couple of minutes, the two of you were as focused on the blocky game as you could be, your minds covered in a weed soaked haze.

Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff (let me know if you want to stay on the taglist for the mini series!)

[yuyu1024]

Escape

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞 smut/angst, mention of food/eating, cursing, sensual touching, making out, needy/clingy, Pet name, lies, kink, unprotected sex, Smoking, jealousy, insecurity, mention of weight&food/eating, oral (m/f receiving), mention of blood/violence

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.8k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: continuation of Prisoner.

I hope this is a good part 2. 🙏🏻 took me a while coz idk if i should or not. 😅 sorry guys.

(This may continue a bit more...? But please be patient 🙏🏻 as I do have work & usually I try to write before i sleep but lately i've beeen so tired and drained that I cant even function 😅)

***

Another day, another event to go to. You are wearing your best 'pretend' smile. The smile you have practiced for months, to be your default expression whenever you meet anyone in any formal event. It's not that your trying to be fake. You just want to represent your husband the best that you can. And being a shy person, this is what you can do to help yourself.

Although, you wish, that even just one time, Yoongi would show up to these events with you.

At the first month of your marriage, he did. He did that to introduce you to everybody. You could still remember how you two were holding hands and always together. Those were the days when you have spent so much time with him.

But... Now, it's just always you. Alone. Amongst everyone in the whole place, you are the only one who always arrives with no partner.

"Excuse me?"

You twirl around and find the prettiest girl you think you have ever seen in your life. She looks like a goddess.

"Ahm, yes?" Your voice sounded so weak. You haven't said a word in the last hour.

"You are the only one wearing a corsage with a hint of lilac flowers in it... I'm guessing... you are Yoongi's wife?" She asks

"Ah, yes. I am." You look down at the flower pinned on your chest

She's smiling at you. She looks sort of happy to see you. "Finally... I've met you."

You haven't said a word. You are not sure how to approach this. You have no idea who she is and why is she approaching you. Plus, You are sort of intimidated by her. She is a beautiful, a sophisticated woman. She have this energy from her that says she is different than anyone else. You could feel your difference with her. Though you are covered with all highend brands of clothing and accessories. You can still see it.

"Oh, sorry... if I'm invading your personal time..." she says, "I am a friend of Yoongi... well... an old friend... from University" she explains. "Sarang."

"Oh." You smile and bow. "Hello, nice to meet you. I'm Y/N... I'm sorry... I've not met any of his friends yet so...I didn't know..."

"It's fine. I understand."

She looks like she came from a regal family, the same level as Yoongi. Also, her beauty.... takes your breathe away. She remind you of how you reacted the first time you saw Yoongi. In awe.

"Thank you for coming here also..." she says as she walks you around the gallery. "I hope you find something to your liking here that... would be a part of your home or either a gift to anyone you love."

As you two talk more, you learned that she's the one that threw this charity event. She gathered all these arts from known artists, to auction. She says that 100% of the earnings from it will go to the children's hospital that she have been donating ever since.

You have just met her and you are already at amazed by her. Not by just her prominent looks but also the way she talks and speaks her mind is very inspiring and uplifting. Because of her words you find it easy buying two items in the collection. You know all of the money will go and be used for something good.

You chose the items, the two that caught your attention the moment you entered the gallery. Both are paintings of a beautiful flowerfield which reminds you of your past. The field where you would always go with your friends and have picnic during summer break.

Such beautiful memory that you wish you could've not taken for granted. You wish you could re-live those moments again. And the paintings, those paintings you chose might go well in your own study room.

"It's nice meeting you..." she says, cutting you from reminiscencing your past

"Thank you too for inviting us.. though... my husband couldn't come..."

She smiles, lips pressed together. "He hasn't changed at all. Not very social and just focused on just working..."

Hmm.. The way she talks, the way she describes your husband is very detailed. She seem to know him pretty well. 'They are friends' you say to yourself but then at the back of your mind, a thought, just a tiny thought about him and her, is peaking through.

'Is she an ex of his?'

'If not an ex... probably... someone who liked him?'

I know, this is no place nor time to think about these but you can't help it.

Look at her and then you look at yourself. You two are totally opposites. From status to looks. And probably from personaly to intelligence. She is more than you. She is perfect. You think that he and Yoongi might or will get along more than you and him.

"Ahm... I ahm..." you start to feel uncomfortable with all of your self pity thoughts. You need to get a hold of yourself. "Sorry... I'll... I'll just go to the bar and have some drink..." you say as you clutch on to your dress.

"Oh. Okay." Sarang says. "You want me to accompany you...?"

You shake your head, "No... thank you... don't mind me... please go ahead and tour the rest of the guest." You say pointing at the newly arrived guests.

You turn around immediately before she could response again.

This is weird. You're not sure why you suddenly have the urge to drink. Even though you don't drink. Also because, you can't. Literally, can't.

You only drink red wine when you are offered to drink, by Yoongi of course. It's only when he asks you to join him during nights when he needs company or if you two are to discuss things about the family.

You don't drink also because you are a lightweight. You get tipsy and red easily. One time when you had more than three glasses of red with your husband, you instantly changed personality. You have no idea how and what changed besides the stories that your maid said the day after which were embarassing.

You have no recollection of anything besides the fact that you were on the sofa, inside Yoongi's home office, butt naked and only have Yoongi's blazer on you.

"Mrs. Min, what can I get you?" The cute guy behind the bar asks as you reach your destination.

"How... do you know who I am?"

He smiles, "We had the lists of the guests coming tonight... with photos." He pours water into a glass

"With details...? who can and cannot drink... I suppose?"

He nods. "Your husband noted... to not serve any alcohol to you Miss."

"Even... I want to? Or... pay?"

"I'm sorry Miss..." he says, "If you like we can offer you our non-alcohol champagne?"

You sigh heavily. You badly want to drink. Even just one glass to calm yourself. But...you can't. Yoongi have rules and you cannot avoid and disobey them.

He does give you the freedom to do whatever you want but when it comes to what not to do or what he likes, he have a handful.

1. Don't cut your hair short

2. Don't drink when he's not present nor ordered by him

3. Don't leave the house without atleast one body guard

4. Don't wear perfume (he gets dizzy)

5. Use the safeword during sex

And etc.

The rules are quite simple. Nothing to weird nor to hard to follow. It's just you compromising. And also, you do have a hard time saying no to Him.

"Thanks." You mumble, sighing as you take the glass of water and walk away from the bar.

After figuring out you can't drink to calm yourself, you decide to just go somewhere outside, away from the crowd and peaceful to get fresh air. Lucky you, you found an exit that leads you to the garden.

As time have gone by, you're not sure how long have you been there, staring at the fountain, the flowers and even starring down at your feet every now and then. You thought being out here will leave your head empty. Not worrying about anything. But then you'd catch yourself pouting and comparing yourself to all the ladies you have seen in the event, especially the last person you have talked to.

Your self pity and low self-esteem is thriving today than usual. Is it the lack of sleep? Or because of the one guy from earlier giving you a judging look that made you regret wearing the dress you picked? What happened?

These thoughts are not very helpful. Especially lately, well probably more on daily basis, you do wonder why Yoongi chose you. To marry.

They've said, more particularly his parents said, that he didn't like the ones they suggested for him; so he decided to pick you. To marry you instead of those women who is on the same level as him or close to his family's wealth.

Odd isn't it? Why would someone like him, an elite bachelor, pick a girl from a lower class family to marry? What did he see in you? What made him randomly pick you? You are not special, inexperience about life and not alluring as the other girls in his world. What did he saw? How did he even saw you? You were sure you two never met before. So did he hire someone to find a daughter from a poor family or what?

Instead of clearing your mind, you suddenly had these outburst of questions.

"What are you doing here?"

Your eyes widens after hearing a familiar voice. You didn't dare to speak. You just slowly turn your upper body around to see him, walking slowly towards you.

He's wearing a tuxedo. His hair is slightly slicked back and his scar. His beautiful scar. It's him.

You can't believe what you are seeing. He's really here. Why? He's been away for a week because of work and when did he came back?

"Y-yoongi..." you mumble, standing up

"I asked you..." he says as he stands right in front of you. Then you see his eyes darts down at your glass of water, sitting beside you. "Your bodyguard said... you asked for a drink." He looks back at you, his expression is so serious.

"I ahm... sorry..." you lower your gaze.

"You know... you can't drink."

"I'm sorry..." you whisper softly

"Let her have fun." A woman's voice says. "She just wants to have a glass of wine. It won't hurt."

Slowly raising your eyes, you see her, Sarang, standing from afar from you and Yoongi.

Her stance at this moment is unidentical to her persona earlier. It feels like she is a completely different person, though her appearance is the same. Something shifted.

"She did an amazing job.. representing you earlier." She adds

Your eyes then goes to Yoongi. You want to see his reaction to the angelic woman speaking. You are curious. No one talks to him directly like that, blunt and straight forward, even you.

Sarang is brave to talk casually to him.

"Ready the car..." Yoongi finally speaks after a monent of silence. Ordering one of his men to move.

That was it?

"I'll return the items. Keep the money. I don't care." He says while he's looking at you, straight into your eyes. Though you know, even his eyes are on you, he's not actually speaking to you.

"Yoongi le---" she tries to speak again but he didn't allowed it.

Yoongi just slightly turned his head to give her a side eye. He is not pleased. "My wife and I are leaving..." and then takes your hand to hold onto. "Let's go home..." he says that only you can hear.

"Ahm...ahh... okay." You say, lost by the sudden fierceness from him

***

"Get in." He orders you

Carefully climbing in the car, you move to the other side making sure there is a space betweem you two.

"Home please." Yoongi says to his driver as he shuts the door.

"Sir." The man answers, nodding and then pushes a button that closes the opening between the driver to the passenger seat of the car.

We are now isolated.

He looks so tired. Looks like he just came back and went straight to event to pick you up.

"I have my driver with me... you could've rested at home." You say

He sighs and closes his eyes. "I'm fine."

Did he purposely pick you up because he wants to see you? Did he missed you while he was away for a week?

Your mind is filled with questions and curiosity but you cannot dream of these questions to be real. You have to remember, he just married you because he have no other choice. There is no love in between you two. You are married by paper only that is worth a lot of money. Everything you are doing for him is to repay all of his kindness to you and your family.

This is all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy.

"Come closer..." he softly says. His eyes are still shut but his arm is arching, gesturing for me to take place in then. "Y/n..." he opens his eyes, calling my name. You scoot over his side. He immediately puts his arm around you, making sure you are close. "You're shaking..." he utters as he goes back to closing his eyes, resting his head back. "You're almost naked with that dress of yours..."

"Sorry..." you say looking down at your knotted fingers. "I thought it will look good....that's why I wore it."

He sighs. "You do look good..." then he shifts in his position and makes sure you're looking back at him. Then he starts leans in, to kiss you.

"Wait..."

He pauses, confused by your reaction. You have never denied his kiss before.

"I'm sorry..."

"What for?" He asks

"Well..." you look to the front, where the driver is. "Do we just kiss or..." you whisper

Yoongi didn't expect your question which made him smile. "It depends." He is looking straight into your eyes, your face are just inches away.

"He might hear us..." you whisper

"I don't fucking care." He moves forward and finally catches your lips.

***

After travelling for almost half an hour, you finally reach home.

"Welcome home, Miss..." The maid greets the second you slide out of the car. she then sees Yoongi, coming out from the other side of the car. "Master!" She bows again. "Welcome..."

They are suprised to see him. They didn't expect him to arrive with you. Looks like none of them knew he went to pick you up.

"Do we have anything to eat?" You softly ask the maid, then you realized that it's already late and that they have to rest too. "Oh... Sorry... never mind... you may go and rest." You give her a faint smile.

Then slowly walking towards the elevator, you could see your husband's reflection through the glass doors. He is busy already with his phone.

"Y/n..."

You glance up, peaking through the reflection. He is walking towards you. So you wirl around and waited for him to stand in front of you.

"Ask your assistant to remove all charities or event under the Lee's tomorrow. Even parties." He says as he undo his bow tie. "And... to not accept any invitation from them...again"

"Why?"

He didn't answer. No answer means he's serious.

"Okay..." You just answer before turning your back at him again.

Thinking about what you are in his world is heart breaking in a way. You are nothing but someone he owns. You just go with the flow of his world.

Yes you do had an idea what you've signed up for but its still shocking nonetheless how everything is unfolding and is doing.

"Aren't you getting in?"

You look up and see that he is in the elevator already, waiting.

"S-sorry..." you say before entering. You try your best to not make eye contact with him.

After both of you settled in, the maid follows and taps on level 3. That is where both your rooms are.

Oddly, Yoongi taps on the Upper ground after her. "Can you please cook something light before you leave? My wife needs to eat." He orders

"Yes, Master." She answers just in time when the elevator stops on UG.

"We'll both be down after we shower and get rested a bit."

"Understood, Master." She exists the elevator, bows and immediately walks off.

'My wife'. It is the second time he said that today. He never says that.

"Don't skip meals." He mumbles as the door closes

You didn't answer. You didn't mean to skip a meal or two today. And maybe a few days before too. You were nervous. One main reason is the dress you're wearing right now is very revealing. A satin black backless maxi dress. You wanted be perfect in the dress thats why, even though you know it's not achievable.

*pings*

The elevator door opens on level 3. You step out and about to turn to your wing when you hear him call your name again.

"Where are you going?" He asks

"T-to my room..." you sound so weak, "To shower..."

"Shower here." He says, suggesting the shower in his wing. Meaning in his room. Meaning his bathroom.

"Hmm?" You are lost in translation. Why is he asking you to shower there all of a sudden.

"To my room." And then he undo the first two buttons of his shirt.

"W-what? Why?"

He didn't say another word. He just continued to walk off towards his room leaving you.

"W-wait..." You take two steps forward but then stops.

"Y/N...." you hear the heels of his shoes stop hitting the marbled floor. His back is facing you. "I said, shower here. I didn't ask you to decide." he then turns around and you see his white top basically open now. "Will you go and shower with me or do you want me to peel that dress off you and carry you to my room?"

Flusttered by his remark, you just released an unsolicited shaky breathing. "Ahm... yes... I'm... I'm coming..."

***

[Flashback to Yoongi's side]

(Earlier... as soon as Yoongi arrived at the charity event)

Some of the people in the event went silent for a few seconds the moment they saw you enter the building. They all didn't expect you to show up since your wife was already present. But of course, they still greeted you with a smile and tried to make small talks. They want to be on your good side. They know what you are capable off. What power you hold in this world.

However, you don't care about these fuckers. You dropped by because you received a call from your wife's bodyguard that Y/N is not looking okay.

"Where is she?" You ask the man standing behind you.

"She just left the bar, Sir. And went out to the garden." He reply.

"I see."

One step, you just took one step and somebody already stands in your way to your wife.

"Look who's here."

"Sarang." You say her name, bitterly. You are not expecting her to be here.

"You have been ignoring my invites for quite some time now... I thought, helping others is one of your goals in life that's why you work 24/7?"

"I thought this event was by the Lee's?" You hiss at your male assistant.

"It is, Sir. By--"

"Lee Do-Hyun..." she cuts off the assistant. "My husband..." she proudly says. "Aww.. That kind a... hurts my feelings...that... you have no idea I got married..."

"I don't keep tab on people who's not important to me."

She scoffs but she sounded a bit insulted and her ego got hurt. But she's good at pretending that it didn't bothered her. "You say that now...but a few years ago... I was your muse..." she tries to move closer to you but your body guards stands in between quickly.

"Was." You look away from her and try to search for your wife through the window not far away from where you stand. "My mistake for socializing to a liar, back stabbing... leech like you." You say, then giving her a side eye. "I wish your husband good fortune... or that he loves spoiling you... or esle... he'll found out his wife's true color..."

You're about to walk away, again, but this bitch still wants to talk to you.

"You think... she'll not get tired of you? Of you controlling her? Especially getting married with you... with no love at all?" She snorts a laugh again. "Or maybe... she will not..." she mumbles under her breathe, "Now... It figures... why you picked someone from a low class family... someone with no choice but to stay with you because her family needs your money. I see..." she laughs again, "poor girl... if I were her, I would milk you all of your money so it will be worth it... after all she married a controlling, dominant, and a freaky person like you."

You know Y/N is not like her. She is a nice person. She's not into money like this bitch is. However, you do think about how Y/N thinks about you and her marriage to you.

You admit that you are very controlling when it comes to her. It is one of your negative trait that you cannot put away. It comes natural with you because of the life you have been brought up and your business. You want things to happen in your way and you are also possessive. You do try to controll it when it comes to her but you are not sure if you are doing it right.

Well how could you know, you never talk about it. Even with your wife. You never asked about her feelings and opinions.

"Watch your mouth." You mumble. "You might think you know me from the years we've been together. But you haven't seen half of what I can and would do... if anyone picks a fight with me.." you glare at her. "Consider this a warning."

[End of flashback from Yoongi's side]

*************

"Miss..."

Slowly opening your eyes, your eyes carefully adjusted to the light. You could see the ray of sunshine peaking through your dark thick curtains.

"Miss..."

You turn your head to the side and see your maid bowing.

"It's noon Miss..."

"Oh."

It has been a quite a few days now, since you start waking up this late. You are usually up early. You are a morning person. You also do jogs or walks around the property and sometimes go to the home gym to move, always. But something shifted in your routines.

You are tired, less motivated and no will to get up your bed.

"I think we need to call the family doctor now, Miss." The maid suggested. "You've lost a bit of weight and you look pale."

"I'm fine." You say as you push your duvet off your body and slide down off your bed. "I'll take a quick bath..." you mumble

"Understood." She is ready to come along with you.

"No... I'm fine... I'll just go alone... just prepare food for me please."

"But... Miss..." she usually prepares your bath and always stays with you there. After the little accident you had a year ago when you first experience a hot bath on the tub. You fainted because you fell asleep. Too much enjoyment and you forgot it is not good to stay long in there.

"I'll be fine." You smile and requested for her to leave

"Okay Miss... but... I will be back after half an hour to check."

"Sure."

You slept last night, wearing your silk robe and your fancy cream nightgown, his favorite. You were expecting Yoongi to come home last night as per usual schedule. But he didn't. He didn't even informed the staff that he'll not be home for a longer period.

What happened? You don't know.

The last time you talked to him was the night he asked you to come to his room and shower with him.

Everything that night was magical. For you atleast. But then you ruined it.

When you both entered his dark room, he immediately clung onto you. He held you like everything depends on it. It was more intemate and hungry than the usual and you liked it for some reason. After all the self doubt and insecurity you felt in the party, the intemacy made you feel more than what you feel.

And when he peeled off your dress from your body, you didn't expected him to go down on his knees and lick your soul out of your body. His tongue did more than you know he could do. It brought you to another level of high. And you didn't know you could screech like an animal because of it. He really made sure you are on cloud nine or even beyond that.

"Fuck me... please..." you begged him after you knees weakened and fall down the floor where he is.

"No." He said. He was sturn. "No request for tonight." He said and then he positioned you underneath him where he could properly see you crumble because of him.

"Y-yoongi... please.... I need... I want to come..." you begged

He brought you to cloud nine but then hold onto your pearls when you were about to orgasm.

"I'm punishing you right now..." he said as he lowers down and starts to run his tongue from your chest up. "Next time... don't wear any sort of revealing clothes...when I'm not around.. do you understand that Y/N?"

"Y-yes..."

"Another rule to add... are you okay with that?" He hummed the last words on your ears before he let both his hands squeeze your breast. "Answer me..."

"I don't... mind..." you were squearming underneath him. He was playing your nipples then. "I... I don't mind... Yoongi..." you repeated, pleading.

His punishment continued for another few minutes. It was too much. You were struggling catching your bliss but he's playing you. However, you are patient. You know his kinks and you know what he wants and so you do whatever and accept whatever. Coz you know it is from him.

"Scream my name." He grunted as he pounds you with no mercy.

You were holding on to his massive bookshelf on the wall, your legs were lifted and hanging over his forearm whilst he was thrusting deep in you. You were getting hurt from your back hitting the shelves but it didn't matter. You don't know why but for some reason you can endure everything just for Yoongi. Even pain.

"Nnggghhaaa..." you threw your arms around his neck as he went faster. "Please!" You cry on his neck. "Aaaahhh!!" You screamed the orgasm you have been keeping for a while. You felt relieved and content.

And as you two were catching your breath. You uttered words that surprised the both of you. You said 'I love you' to Yoongi.

It should not be a surprise. You two are married right. However since yours are different from others, those words were never said or mentioned ever after the wedding. It is like a forebidden phrase though there are no rule about it. It's like an unspoken deal that no one says those words since THIS.. YOU TWO... is just a fantasy. You two got together with no love. It is not real. You are just one of his property.

And so, after that night. That magical night for you ended up into this cold, quiet and empty prison. Again. You are back to nothing.

You thought you are on a journey escaping that confinement. You thought that something is going to change. You thought... that you were wrong about him. But who are you kidding? You were just having sex like you used to. It is nothing special. It is the same crap. So you saying you love him is... worthless.

"Did I even mean it?" You ask yourself as you lay down in your hot bath. "I said it... after sex.." you are trying to understand how those words slipped out of your lips. If it all just happened because of such high from the sex.

You can clearly remember how you said it. You paused, looked into his eyes and carefully said it. You know you said it with the intent for him to hear it but when you saw his reaction. It made you realize what a big mistake it was.

"Am I having feelings for him?" You mumble as you lower yourself more into the water. "I should not right?"

You know the answer to your own quesion. Look at him even ignoring you for almost two weeks now. Who are you even kidding thinking it will have an effect on him?

After the 'I love you' incident, He eat dinners without you or he let you eat first before he comes out of his home office. And then when he leaves, he does not inform you now. You just get the news of him flying off somewhere from your maid. Even his men are being cautious with you. He must've ordered them to be distant but at the same time protect you.

How funny that these are his responses to you. You know you deserve it but you're a little bit hurt, your not going to lie.

"Who am I for him to love?" You sigh. "Maybe... I should just prepare myself for the ending of this fantasy..."

*********

"Master." The maids bows as they suddenly sees Yoongi enter the main entrance while they are all cleaning.

Yoongi have not been home for a while. He has been... busy.

"Give them all my clothes." He says to his right hand man. "Sorry if it's quite a lot today." He then says to the maids as he removes his black coat revealing his white button up shirt, stained with blood. A lot of it. No one reacted to the visual that is shown. All the staff are used to it. They know how his world is.

"Where is she?" He asks as he loosen up his tie

All the maids in the corredor suddenly turn heads to the youngest one at the end of the line. She is Y/N personal maid.

"Master." She steps forwards and bows again. "Miss is in her bath."

Yoongi frowns. "Alone?"

"Ahm..." she suddenly stutters. "Sorry, Master! She... Miss wanted to... alone... but I told her after half an hour I will go back."

"How long has she been there?" He then throws his tie on the ground.

"Twenty."

"Okay." He takes a deep breathe and tries to collect himself. "Just go and be on standby in her room. She can't stay any longer."

"Okay, Master." She bows again and briskfully walk back to Y/N wing.

"Are you not going to... visit her Sir?" His male right hand asks. "She have been messaging you since..." he pauses for a bit. "And calling too."

He didn't answer. "Ready my bath please." He orders and just continue walking his way to his room.

"Understood." The man replies

"She can't see me like this." Yoongi mumbles as he walks

"I see..." his right hand man smiles at his master's response.

"Why are you smiling?" Yoongi asks, one eyebrow up.

"Nothing, Sir."

"Just spit it out."

The right man, Mr. Kim have been Yoongi's right hand man ever since he was in his teens. Mr. Kim saw him grew up and be the man that he is now. And for sure, if something changed he would be the first one to notice

And now, the tiny changes in Yoongi's mood and decisions, He might not know or see it but it is obvious for Mr. Kim. He knows it is something about his wife.

"2nd week of your marriage, Sir. She saw you coming home with a bloody lip and injured knuckles. You said you don't give a damn if she sees you looking like a murderer."

"So? What's your point?"

"It's just lately...."

Yoongi pauses and turns around to see Mr. Kim, wearing a smile.

"What are you implying? Just... say it."

Mr. Kim bows and says, "Nothing Sir."

"Hmmm..." rolling his eyes, he continued to walk.

*****

"Miss..." your personal maid rushes in your room, "Master have return." She says.

To her suprise, she sees you standing in the middle of the room, wearing your bathrobe and a towel in your hair already.

You take a deep breathe, not letting your eyes look away from the view you are seeing from your window, a clear blue sky.

"Miss.. shall I prepare your clothes?"

You close your eyes and then removed the towel wrapped around your long hair. "Please..." you softly answer

"What do you prefer to wear today, Miss?" She asks she she begins to walk towards your walk in closet.

"A black dress..." you say as you follow along. "Maybe the one with the longer sleeves."

She nods and then continues to search for the dresses you have that matches your description while you on the other hand looks at yourself in the full length mirror while you undress from your robe.

You stare at your body and see how you thin you are. Not super thin but thinner than what you used to.

It's your own fault. You have been skipping meals when you are stressed and it's not good.

"Miss?" She then lays three dresses on the sofa in the middle, for your choices.

"The middle one." You says.

You then open the drawer for your undies to grab a black lace matching underwear.

"Ahm, Miss...?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to eat with Master, in the dinning today?"

"Hmm... what did he say?"

"Nothing. He just asked me to stay with you when I told him you are in your bath."

"Did he say if he wants to see me?"

The maid didn't answer.

"I guess not." You scoff as you getting into the dress. "Just bring my food in my study room. I'll eat there while I do some reading."

"Understood." She bows and exists the room.

"I'm not gonna wait for him anymore." You say to yourself while looking onto the mirror. "If he's going to avoid me or ignore me... then... that's what I'll do as well..."

Starring once again at yourself on the mirror, you look at your face and then your eyes goes down to your belly.

"I have to learn to go on with my life... with or without him..." you mumble. "I should start to escape this fantasy... a dream that maybe the 'us' will be something."

Part 3 - Twilight

[clockmax]

﹒𝐗-𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 | 𝐓𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝟏﹒

← previous | next → | ﹗𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹗

pairing: dilf!Miguel O'hara x babysitter!fem!reader

Summary: In a AU where his marriage doesn't work anymore, he spends time away from his house. In turn, his 'wife' hired you to keep watch over Gabriella. But soon, a infatuation bloomed between someone who you couldn't have.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI. infidelity, mentions of divorce, age gap(19-31), drinking, no use of y/n, oral(f receiving), p in v, mating press, praising, slight breeding kink if you squint, not proofread uhh thats it i think

w/c: 3k

You stood outside in the cold night, the sounds of crickets and other sorts of bugs in the night kept you from silence. It was cold, body shivering as you held your jacket close. Your breath was visible, the cold nipping at whatever skin was left exposed. Your body was flushed from the drop in temperature, winters air cruel. You were absolutely freezing. Yet you stood outside, watching as Miguel counted a stack of 10 dollar bills.

“40.. 50… 60..” The man mumbled, fingers sorting through the cash, “ 70.. 80, there.” 

His hands moved to your own, placing the cash in your shaking hands. Fingers find themselves delicately sorting through the cash, double counting. Miguel Looked down at you, watching as you re-counted the cash.

“That’s the agree amount, right?” He tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes-” *You nod, putting the cash inside your purse.

“Then that’s your pay, I hope Gabriella wasn’t too much trouble.” He gave himself a small chuckle, putting his wallet away.

“It was nothing, really, she isn’t any trouble at all, sir.” For some reason you just couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every movement. You felt your body almost become warm against the weather, heart beating faster than it was before. Christ, you couldn’t get more embarrassed on the inside about it though. A crush on your boss’ husband? Really? Even your friends poked at you for that.

“There’s no need to be modest, I know she can be a handful. Kids got so much energy that she doesn’t know what to do with.” 

His hands shuffled back in his wallet again, pulling out another 20, “There’s an extra 20, ‘cause I know,” Handing you the bill, giving a small playful wink.

His eyes happen to wander your body, looking at how you shivered and tugged your jacket closer, freezing hand putting the 20 with the rest of the cash. There was a slight twinge of guilt for having you outside when it was this cold. Muttering something to himself in spanish before he headed for his front door, turning back to you.

“Would you like to come in? I don’t want to leave you in the cold.” The offer felt a little weird, out of place for him. I mean he wasn’t your boss, his ‘wife’ if you could call her that was. But hey, practically the same thing, right?

“Are you sure?” You asked, looking up at him. The offer was still a little strange.

You two didn’t really talk much besides work and a few personal questions, but those were usually 2 minute conversations before you were on your way. Still, none of that stopped your eyes from looking at Miguel whenever you had the chance. It was a stupid crush, really. He was a married man with a daughter, plus he was older than you by a long shot. 

“It’s no worries, I’d rather have someone to talk to while I drink much rather than drinking alone.” Miguel opened the door, holding it as you entered inside.

“Thank you.” You nodded, taking off your coat.

You tried your best not to let your emotions get the best of you. All he needed was someone to talk to, nothing more. Yet your mind couldn’t help but wander with thoughts that, even if you were being interrogated, would never say out loud. 

You settled yourself in on a nearby chair, watching as Miguel walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whatever he was drinking, you couldn’t read the bottle, not from a totally different room. Soon enough he walked over to the couch, sitting down with his glass. 

“Will your wife get mad that I’m still here?” You asked, still a little hesitant. 

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll be gone for a long time,” His hands held his glass, taking a sip from it before setting it down, swallowing the liquid, “That’s how it’s been since she met her yoga instructor.”

You tilted your head, confused at the situation. You knew from what you were told that there was a rough patch in their marriage, but didn’t expect to be greeted with cheating.

“Aren’t you mad?” Mumbling a little, still hearable though. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” You quickly ducked your head, looking down in embarrassment for asking such a question.

Miguel let out a sigh, taking another swig of his drink.

“No, I’m not mad. Our marriage isn’t what it was, so we don’t really care about who sees who.” Taking another drink of the alcohol, the liquid running down his throat.

You moved your head back up to look at him,mind running wild with that. I mean, if they don’t care who sees who, you could make your move? But still, weird. He’s technically your boss, and still married, and with a kid. You’re just the babysitter, someone trying to make money for college. 

“Nevermind. What about you, how is college coming along?” He asked, trying to change the subject from that of his now broken marriage.

“Rough, barely making enough with as many jobs as I have to pay tuition.” Leaning back in your chair, hands balling up in your lap.

“Hope every penny is worth it. Everyone where you’re at is probably struggling too, don’t get in a fuss over it.” Miguel's eyes looking over your frame once again.. Eyes looking at your thighs for maybe a moment too long before looking back up at your face.

“I know I know, but some people are just so care free, able to go to parties while I’m wondering if I’m gonna be able to stay at college.” You whined, upset about the financial situation  you were in.

“Some people are just better at hiding it then others. I struggled in college, even being financially stable now, I was in student debt too,” Miguel sighed, “Look the message is a struggle always has a solution… 7 years of fatherhood and I still can’t give any good dad advice, if you can call it that.”

Miguel found himself getting another sip of his drink, getting up to get another glass full.

“You should relax though, don’t stress too much. Never does any good.” He’d tell you from the kitchen, refilling his glass.

“I’m just worried I’ll never get anything done if I don’t hyperfocus, forget what I need to do because I get too caught up with free time.” Your thoughts were racing, your worries about your current life situation flooding out of your mouth. 

“No no, get what you need done too. Just don’t let it take over your down time. You’re young still, a whole life ahead of you.” Walking back to the couch, taking a seat again as he took yet another drink, “You got a boyfriend?” He asked, nonchalantly, no hesitation.

“No,” You mumbled, a little embarrassed. 

“No?” Miguel Repeated, “I’m surprised.” “Why?” You turned your head, a puzzle expression painting your face.

“Cause you’re a young, pretty girl on campus, and no varsity jacket has come to take you away?” It sounded almost as if he was joking, teasing you for it. But he meant no harm.

“No, not yet. They already have themselves a girlfriend or something.” You sigh, sinking back into your chair. 

“Yea times have changed, but, there’s probably a guy out there waiting to say the right things to you.”

How you hated that sentence. Another guy. You wanted Miguel, deep down you wanted him, but you couldn’t have him. Not at this moment, at least. Not only could it put you out of a job, but complicate things. And what if his wife catches you? He said that she doesnt care, but what if she cares that the person she employed is sleeping with her husband? I mean, why would she? Their practically divorced anyways. Or maybe you’re just thinking too much. Your body tensing up. 

“I have my eye on someone, actually. Just having troubles about it.” You confess, looking down, kicking your feet.

“Oh you do? That’s rare. And troubles? Yea, I get that… Okay, what’s he like?” He questions you, sitting upright and fixing his posture. 

“He’s older,” You start off, hands shaking a little. Were you really about to do this? Tell him how you feel? I mean the doors open for you to tell him, it’s only a matter of how he’ll react. 

“Older? Like his senior year?” Miguel took notice of how tense you were, gaze softening a little. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“No.” You bluntly respond.

“Okay so not that old, I hope he’s nice to a sweet girl like you.” Miguel offered a faint smile, leaning back into the cushion. 

“He has a kid-” You usher out, mouth speaking faster than your mind.

For a second, Miguel is taken aback. That old? Seriously? 

“Has a kid? At that age?” I mean, for anything it could have been a toddler kid, no way a full kid at that age he was thinking of. “Well.. as long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.” He took another swish of his drink.

You gulped, body shaking as you tensed up, mind feeling dizzy from the whole situation. “No he’s not my age, what I mean is-” 

But you were quickly cut off, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Yea, I got the hint.” Miguel looked at you, face stone cold as he held his glass. 

“Listen, uh, I’m flattered, really. But uh, that would be weird, right. I mean, that would be taboo even. I’m too old for a sweet heart like you. Don’t you have anyone on campus you’d rather be with?”

His expression was stone cold, and you sunk back into your chair. Not you really regretted yourself for telling him this. How you wish the ground would just swallow you whole right now, or simply pass away on the spot. 

“No, I just- I can’t get my eye off you and-” Quickly shutting yourself up, biting your tongue. You swore you were biting hard enough to draw blood, mentally cursing yourself for making this a conversation. He was right, Miguel was too old for you. But yet here you were, admitting those stupid feelings that you should have never brought up in the first place. 

“But what about your parents, certainly they wouldn’t approve? Hell, Dana would have a fit if she smelt your perfume where it doesn’t belong. Let alone knowing her divorcing husband is with, uh..” Miguel sighed, slumping, hand on his elbow as he clenched his glass so hard he could probably break it if he wanted to. 

Miguel sat back up, chugging the rest of his drink down before setting the glass on the coffee table, beckoning you over to him with his finger. “Come here,” He told you, almost as if it was a order. 

Within what feels like minutes of you moving through the room, air thick with tension as you make your way over to him. Yet no sooner does he have you sitting under him, frame tower over yours. 

Both of your lips were practically glued to each other, tongue exploring each others mouths as his hands felt up your body. You couldn’t help but feel his up too, hands tracing over each and every one of his well toned muscles. 

Miguels hand moved under your shirt, grabbing one of your breasts. His hands fondled the soft skin of your tit, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You let out a whine, muffle by the kiss. You felt your juices start to form a puddle in your underwear already, thighs clenched together to give your clit some friction. 

When he finally pulled away, eyes looking at yours. Christ this was wrong, but there was no stopping now. Miguel kissed down your neck, taking off your shirt. He kissed your breasts, sucking on them too. Making his way down your stomach, gently biting as if to mark it, hands working at your pants, tugging the material down and away. Getting on his knees infront of your legs, hands pulling them apart by your inner thigh. 

His eyes took a moment to look at your cunt, how pretty it looked, how your juices were moving past your slit. His eyes moved black up to you,

“You sure about this, Corazón?”

It was without hesitation that you nodded, opening your legs more, almost presenting yourself to him. Miguel quickly became fixed on your pussy, tongue licking a stripe between your leaking folds, tasting your sweet arousal. 

“Taste so sweet.. Didn’t take you for someone who likes older guys.” He mumbled against your clit, sucking on the bud. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he moved you closer to his face, burying himself in your cunt. 

He licked and sucked on your clit before moving down to lick your juices from your folds, tongue moving inside your soft walls. Miguel was eating you out like you were his last meal, arousal coating his mouth and dripping down his chin. You just tasted so sweet, he couldn’t get enough of it, groaning in your pussy, tasting you like you were some sort of desert. 

Miguel kept eating you out, noises almost sounding pornographic. He took in every moan and whine that left your mouth, feeling how his cock hardened just from the thought of being inside you next. You were so tight on his tongue, walls squeezing and contracting. You felt your orgasm approach, stomach tightening into knots. It wasn't long as he sucked on your clit, juices gushing out of your slit as your back arched, Thighs squeezed around his head as he kept licking up your juices, hand squeezing your ass. After a few more licks, he moved his head up , leaning over you again as he unbuttoned his pants and removed his boxers, cock springing free. 

“This is what you were after the whole time, isn’t it?” Miguel cooed, grabbing your legs to fold them up, knees practically meeting your chest. 

He lined his tip up with your entrance, slowly sinking himself in. It was a tight fit, almost too tight, sinking himself deeper into you. You whined and moaned, hands holding at his thigh.

“Ease up for me, pretty girl.” Miguel moved one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing the swollen tissue as your walls slightly eased up, taking the advantage to put himself balls deep inside of you.

He let out a groan once you clenched back down on him, hand moving back up to hold your other leg up. You looked up at Miguel through lidded eyes, mind clouded with lust. God, did you feel so full. His tip was prodding at your cervix, a vein gently pressing against that spongy spot inside of you. 

After a few seconds, his hips started moving. A fast yet not too rough pace. His hips snapped against your skin, the faint sound of clapping as well a few curses under his breath mixing in with your moans. Fuck, he was in too deep, and you were already cock drunk. Your hands found their way to his head, pulling him in for a heated kiss. 

Your noises were muffled in his mouth, the squelching sound of your pussy getting stretched out by him taking up the noise. How good it felt to finally have Miguel's cock in you, how many times you dreamed of this, touched yourself to the thought, yet the real thing was even bette.

“Good girl, taking me so well.” Miguel Praised, forehead touching yours, looking at how your pupils were blown wide, legs gently shaking. You couldn’t help but clench around him from the praise, letting out a mewl as you moaned again. Your second orgasm was building up already, and fast. 

“ ‘m so close-” You moaned, the pleasure feeling almost too good then it’s supposed to. This was so wrong, yet, it just felt so right.

“Go on, come for me, be a good girl and listen, hm?” He’d whisper, pace picking up slightly.

Miguel felt his own high approach, letting out a groan as he trapped your lips in a kiss again,the grip on your legs getting slightly rougher, pace getting rougher too. His dicktouched all those special places inside of you, juices coating his thick cock and dripped down his balls, some dripping onto the couch too.

Before you knew it, you were both coming. Walls tightening around him, practically milking Miguel dry as thick, hot ropes of cum painted your walls. For a few moments, you both stayed like that, coming down from your high. 

The reality then set in of what had just happened. His hands moved away from your legs as he pulled away from your body, eyes looking at your pussy, how he dripped out of you.

“Sorry-” You mumbled through your panting, body hot from the adrenaline, eyes looking down at the small mess.

“No it’s okat- let me uh, let me get a towel..” Miguel replied, fixing his boxers back on. He was only gone for a few moments before coming back with a towel, gently cleaning up the mess. Miguel folded the towel, gently placing you on top of the soft material.

The rest of the night was a blur, head reeling from the events. All you remembered was eventually landing in his bed, laying next to him. Miguel was fast asleep next to you, and you laid awake. All you could do was try and process everything. You slept with the person you had a stupid crush on, but also slept with a father, with a (almost non) married man. Oh you weren’t supposed to do that. What about morals? God this was such a stupid thing. You put your feelings over thought, and now, you were going to land yourself in such a difficult situation. Falling in love with someone who you couldn’t have.

taglist: @pandoraslxna @deputy-videogamer @its-paprika @yuuuumii @buggiecrawls @l0vedi3n @projectdreamwalker @urbimom @chshiresins @1tsk1tty

©clockmax 2023 ━━━ do not repost, copy, or translate my work.

[kpop---scenarios]

Blind Spot (1)

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader x Lee Know

Warning: Smut, Threesome - ish [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 2.3k

Everything Taglist: @ivydoesit23 @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@silly250 @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @1810cl

A/N: Part one of 3! Enjoy!

“Never have I ever… cheated in a relationship.” You say, watching your boyfriend, and best friend to see if they're going to drink. Neither of them do, honestly you're surprised that Chae doesn't drink, but not surprised your boyfriend, Jeongin doesn't.

“Never have I ever… been with two guys at the same time.” Chae giggles, both of you watching Jeongin.

“Oh come on you guys, as if.” He laughs. “Okay my turn.. mhmm..” he pauses. “Never have I ever… had a threesome with two girls.” Jeongin half whispers, his eyes darting between you and Chae. “That's a conversation for a later date.” You both laugh, you in particular because he was trying to be so nonchalant about it, but after 2 years, you knew Jeongin pretty well to know what he was hinting at, but you don't say anything about it, instead moving on to your turn, switching the subject. You knew he would bring it up again, it was just a matter of time.

*

"Hey, baby.." Your boyfriend murmurs, walking into the living room, glancing around the room before his eyes land on you. It had been a few days since Chae had been over drinking with the two of you.

"What's up love?" You say, smiling at Jeongin. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, taking a breath as he tries to come up with the words he wanted to utter.

"I know you said we'd talk about it at a later date..” he pauses. You had a feeling you knew where this conversation was going. “But it's been a few days, and I was wondering if you thought about…the.. um, threesome?" He says, forcing a laugh, while rubbing the back of his neck.

There it was. It wasn't that you were really opposed to having a threesome, honestly it seemed kind of exciting, but it was the fact that he was a little more persistent than you'd like.

"Who would we even bring in?" You sigh, closing your book. That was one thing that confused you about the entire thing.

"Oh, I don't know.. I mean, we could find someone random... it could maybe be Chae… it doesn't matter." He trails off.

"You know, this is the third time that you've mentioned Chae. Are you trying to tell me something?” You laugh, making him laugh.

“We could just find a girl at the bar.” He smiles.

“Let me think about it.. it might be better to have someone that we both know and are comfortable with.” You say. “I just worry about our friendship… I don't want this to ruin anything.”

“Babe, you guys are good friends. This won't ruin things at all. I love you, and who knows, maybe it'll make the two of you even closer.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

You bite your lip, looking at Jeongin, trying to stop your smile, but you can't, it turns into a full-fledged grin. “I'm meeting her later tonight. I'll talk to her.”

Jeongin grins like a kid on Christmas, clapping his hands together, turning around, practically skipping off to another room. Part of you started to wonder why he was so giddy, yes you knew that she was gorgeous, sexy, and almost everyone's ideal type, so yes he'd probably be excited but it made you feel a little sad that he was so excited about it.

Later that evening, you showed up to the bar, finding Chae sitting in your usual spot, with your usual drink sitting across from her waiting for you.

“Hey you.” She smiles, scooting in closer to the table as you sit down across from her.

“Hey.” You grin, taking a sip of your drink. “Thank you for this, I really needed it.” You laugh. “So how are things? I feel like I never get to see you anymore. Even though I saw you last week.” You laugh.

“Things are… things, you know.” She laughs. “I broke up with that guy I met at the gym.” She sighs.

“Wait, was that the one who claimed to be tatted up but had two small tattoos? Or was it the one who did the part-time work at the store where he stood around shirtless?” You laugh.

“Oh my god, when you put it like that, it sounds so fucking bad.” She groans, dropping her head into her hands. “It's not my fault!” She yells, jolting her head back up, to defend her choices. “We can't all find a Mr. Perfect, like Jeongin who has good looks, a good job, smart, funny, nice and did I mention good looking?” She says, taking a sip of her drink.

This seemed like your chance to talk to her about your and Jeongin's plan.

“So you think he's good looking?” You giggle, watching her facial expression.

“I do have eyes, you know.”

“Well I'm glad you think so, cause I actually have something to ask you…” You pause.

“I'm intrigued…” She smiles. “Continue.”

“He and I have been… um discussing… a threesome.”

“Yes.” She almost yells.

“You didn't even let me finish.” You half chuckle. You noticed you were twiddling your fingers underneath the table, while your leg shook with what you could only assume was anxiety.

“Oh fuck.” She laughs. “You were going to ask me right? I didn't just agree to it and you were going to ask if it was a good idea or not.”

“I was going to ask you, yes.” You say, no expression on your face. “I'm glad you both are so eager about this.”

“You should be too… it's going to be so hot.” She gushes. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday?” You suggest.

“Two days? I can wait that long.” She giggles.

A few hours later, you walk into your shared apartment, seeing Jeongin jolt off the couch at the sight of you, rushing towards you with puppy dog eyes like he was begging you for information.

“She agreed.” You say, setting your bag down, waiting to gauge his reaction.

“Yes! I was hoping she would.” He smiles, throwing his hands up in the air in excitement. “When's it for?”

“Saturday.” You say. “2 days.”

“Thanks babe, I can't wait.” He grins, heading to the bathroom. Part of you felt a little uneasy about the whole thing but you chalked it up to a little anxiety about trying something new. If Jeongin was excited, and Chae was excited, then why shouldn't you be as well?

“She'll be here soon.” You tell Jeongin, glancing down at your phone, looking at the text message she had sent. You wander to the kitchen, pouring yourself a shot, and then another one, and one more for good measure. Your stomach felt like a ball of knots as you waited for her, you felt like you couldn't sit still, constantly moving until the knock at the door broke you out of your nerves. Jeongin walks over to the door, opening it for Chae, letting her into your apartment.

“I need a fucking drink.” She grins, holding up a bottle. “Shots for everyone.” She finishes, heading to the kitchen. She grabs three shot glasses, pouring the liquor into each glass before passing you and Jeongin each a glass. “To good friends and good times.” She laughs, taking her shot, you and Jeongin taking yours seconds later.

The three of you stand there, the silence is deafening before Jeongin breaks it.

“Have you two ever kissed before?” He asks, looking between you both.

You both shake your heads no, you're feeling drunk enough already, while Chae takes a swig from the bottle before walking towards you. She cups your face with her hands, leaning in to press her lips against yours. You can hear Jeongin groan as he watches the two of you, slowly deepening the kiss, your tongues slipping into each other's mouths as you hold each other closer. Jeongin moves in, joining in on the kiss, his tongue swapping between your mouth and Chae’s until she breaks the kiss, licking her lips as she smiles at you and then Jeongin. Your heart is pounding, you feel flushed and tingly as you all look at each other. Chae's eyes are soft and sultry, Jeongin's lips are parted and panting.

“I guess we’re doing this,” She says, grabbing both your hands, leading you both to the bedroom.

Jeongin sits on the bed as he watches you and Chae undress each other, firstly discarding each other's shirts, and then pants and finally underwear. You both move towards him, undressing him, leaving his boxers last before finally letting his hard cock spring free. The three of you lay on the bed, Jeongin laying on his back. You hover your mouth over his cock as Chae immediately straddles his face, and he begins eating her pussy. You wrap your mouth around his cock, his fingers moving between your lips, to rub your clit as you shove his cock so deep down your throat, making him moan into her cunt. You spread your legs, giving Jeongin better access to your clit, his fingers were like magic on your body, making it almost impossible for you to last very long.

You cum quickly, as does Chae, you lay down on the bed as Chae gets off Jeongin's mouth, laying down on the other side of him. He gives you a half smile as he rolls over, towards Chae. You watch as he lifts her legs up, sliding his cock inside of her, making her moan. “Mhmm.” Jeongin groans. “Now for the main course.” He murmurs quietly. You're assuming he thinks you didn't hear him, but you most definitely did.

You notice how his eyes linger on hers, they both smile at each other as he slowly thrusts into her, a lot more sensually than it should be. He intertwined his fingers with hers as he leaned down to kiss her, the pace of the kiss matching the pace of his thrusts, slow and passionate. You clear your throat a few times but they don't notice you. You can hear him whispering in her ear, her moaning whispers in response but you can't hear what either of them are saying.

This wasn't what you expected when you three had decided to do a threesome. After a few more minutes of being ignored, you climbed out of bed, going into the bathroom to take a shower, trying to wash the shame and uncomfortable feeling you felt off your body. When you were done, you wrapped yourself in a towel, leaving the bathroom to your room where Jeongin was laying in bed, his chest heaving. You heard the front door slam shut, and you knew Chae left.

“That was.. wow.” He chuckles, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Thank you.” He breathes.

You don't respond, you're so upset at what just happened you can barely wrap your head around what just happened.

You get yourself dressed, walking out of the room to the kitchen where you grab a snack, going to the living room to watch a show. You just wanted to forget for a little bit and watch your favorite show.

“You okay babe?” Jeongin asks, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“I just wanna watch my show.” You mutter, moving yourself away from Jeongin who sat too close.

“Hey.” He says, taking the remote to pause the show. “What's wrong?”

“I don't want to get into it now.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/N.. talk to me.” He says, placing his hand on your knee.

“Don't!” You snap, pulling your knee away from him. “Don't touch me right now.”

“Okay, what is going on?” He asks, sitting back, almost as if he was offended.

“You and Chae are what's going on.” You snap. “You completely left me out to fuck her. Was that the plan all along?”

“What!?” Jeongin says, acting shocked. “We tried to involve you! You were so hesitant and we didn't want to force you! And then you left so we just assumed you didn't want to be involved anymore.” He explains.

“No.” You say. “You didn't try to involve me, not after you started fucking her. I saw the two of you.”

“Y/N.. were we in the same room?” He scoffs. “Yes we did, but you pulled away so many times. How much did you actually drink?” He asks.

“I didn't drink that much.” You murmur, but maybe you were wrong? Maybe you did drink too much.. maybe you weren't remembering it correctly?

“I wouldn't do that to you…” He half smiles. “I love you.”

You let out a big sigh, glancing over at your boyfriend. He had never previously done anything to make you feel like he was lying to you, so maybe the liquor did hit you harder than you realized.

“You're right… I'm sorry.” You say, snuggling into him. “I don't think I wanna do it again though.” You tell him.

“Mhmm… I agree.” He whispers, in a less than convincing tone.

A week later, you could cut the tension in the house between you and Jeongin with a knife and you didn't understand it. The night it happened, the two of you talked it out and everything was fine. But a few days later everything changed.

“He's distant, he won't talk to me, he's being really weird and I don't understand it. Everything was fine.” You complain to Chae.

“That's so weird.” She sighs, looking stumped.

“Has he told you anything?” You ask.

“What? No? I haven't heard from him… why would I hear from him?” She chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You wanted to believe her, but she was also acting weird but it could also be in your head. To be honest, you weren't sure what to believe and it was driving you insane.

Chae reaches over the table grabbing your hand. “He loves you. Maybe it's just something with work.” She smiles. “Everything will be just fine.”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Everything will be fine.”

[badasmuse]

“Homewrecker”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI), lowercase intended, language, cheater!bada, bottom!bada, bada is married to h*wl, bada has a daughter, top!reader, lonely bada, she also cries, appearance from itzy’s yuna

Summary: bada is lonely, you fix that.

Part 2 Here

you absolutely loved children. ever since you were fifteen when you started babysitting for your neighbor that’s when you knew. you actually wanted to start your own daycare but you wanted a degree so you decided to take a few online classes in early childhood education. but, going to college meant you need money for books and such so you never stopped babysitting. but your usual child’s father came back into her life making you jobless once again, so when you received a text from an unknown number stating she got your number from her friend you jumped with joy. and that’s how you started working for bada lee and her husband.

on your first day, you pull up to the extremely big house, you’re nervous. you keep thinking, what if i lose this kid in this big ass house.

there’s a tall woman and a slightly shorter male standing in the doorway holding a little girl. she looks about seven. you step out of the uber and approach the little family. “hi i’m y/n. i’m looking for ms. lee?”

“that’s me.” she steps out shaking your hand. “you can call me bada. this is my husband howl, not his real name but as a dancer it’s just what he goes by, and our daughter chaeyoung. come in.”

you follow the woman in and dude when i tell you this house is huge. you could probably fit three semi trailers stacked on top of each other in here. with the wheels still on and everything. you’re too busy admiring the house to hear what bada is saying.

“got that y/n?” is all you hear.

“huh? oh i’m… im sorry i was admiring your house i didn’t hear a thing. could you… repeat that?” you say shyly.

“oh no problem. this is a list of people you can call if you can’t get in touch with either of us. always try lusher first she’s my best friend she’ll always be able to get ahold of me. i’ll be out at the studio a lot this month because i’m choreographing a few comebacks and howl is getting ready to go to japan to teach some classes. i will be back around nine tonight. here’s chae’s bedtime routine. she’ll try to stay up past eight thirty, if she fights let her because she’ll fall asleep in the next five minutes. you can just lay a blanket over her on the couch and i’ll carry her to the room when i come back. is that too much at one time?” bada asks after literally vomiting a shit ton of information.

“no no i think i got it all. also, if you’re gonna be dancing, i don’t mind carrying her to her room. you’ll be tired and probably want to shower, i can handle it.” you say smiling.

“if you can i’d appreciate it. oh we have to go. chae you be good for y/n okay? i mean it.” bada says crouching in front of the girl who just nods in response before hugging her mother tight and hugging her father’s leg.

soon, it’s just you and her. boy did she give you a run for your money. you did lose her in the house while playing hide n seek. she made you play dress up with her. she took your phone and hid it, spilled apple juice everywhere, and even went into her parent’s room and took one of her mom’s lipsticks.

by now it’s eight thirty and she surprisingly went to bed without an issue, which you were grateful for because now you have to clean the mess in the kitchen and living room.

“hi i’m home.. y/n?” you hear bada say.

“kitchen!” you respond.

“what.. happened?”

“oh she spilled apple juice. this- here. she took this from your room. um, do you mind calling my phone?” you mumble.

bada sighs and goes into a room before coming out with your phone in hand. “i’m sorry she did this to the last babysitter, and the one before. if you don’t want to continue just let me know okay?” she says helping you clean the apple juice.

you look up at her and see the sweat dripping down her face, the tired look in her eyes. she’s obviously struggling. “what time should i be here tomorrow?”

her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. “um, same time okay? it’ll just be me and her, my husband will be gone early.”

“i’ll be here. go shower. i’ll finish up and make my way out of here.” you pick up the used paper towel, throwing it in the garbage.

thirty minutes later she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a new pair of sweats and a tank with her wet hair flowing down her back.

“i’ll get your uber home. can you put your address in here?”

*

now it’s been four months and man, the feelings you feel towards this woman are crazy.

“she’s just so.. fine, yuna.” you say to your best friend. “when she comes home from the studio and she’s dripping with sweat. you know how hard it is to not jump on her?”

yuna laughs, “isn’t she married?”

“yes but… come on. her husband is never really there. she’s always tired and probably sexually frustrated. i could fix that for her for real.” you say taking the drink from her.

“that’s mine.” she sighs, “well are you gonna go for it?”

“i don’t know, should i? what if i get fired?” you say.

“then you get fired. come on i’ll drop you off. it’s almost time.”

once you arrive at the house, you knock and wait, watching yuna pull off. bada opens the door and looks at you surprised. “y/n? what are you doing here?”

you blink, “it’s.. saturday?”

“oh! oh i’m so sorry. first come in.” she steps to the side, “i’m sorry, chaeyoung is with her grandmother for today. i thought i told you. probably forgot i was doing so much this morning. i feel so bad you probably ubered here, let me pay you for that and i’ll get you one back.”

“my friend dropped me off. i can ask her to come get me.” you say sending a quick text to yuna.

“well have you eaten? let me get you something.” she says.

“i’m okay i’m not hungry.” at least, not for food.

“well.. here’s a water bottle. i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay bada. my schedule is open.” you look at the reply from yuna and sigh. “actually could you get the uber? my friend is busy, she won’t be able to come get me for at least an hour or so.. unless you don’t mind me waiting?”

“i don’t mind. i actually wanted to talk to you about chaeyoung.” she says sitting next to you.

“what is it?”

“i’m not too sure what you’re doing but.. she used to be terrible in school, behavior wise, and ever since you came along it’s changed. what are you doing with her? what can i do to make sure she doesn’t act that way once you get your degree and stop working for me?” bada sighs, leaning back on the couch.

“bada,” you turn your body to face her, “the issue with chae is you don’t give her enough attention. i know both you and howl work a lot. it happens. but she tells me all the time how she wishes at least you were here more often. she’s lonely. it’s only her and you stick her with a bunch of strangers. she told me she feels happy when i’m here because even tho i’m leaving, i still make her happy because i’m giving her the attention she craves.”

bada wipes a tear from her cheek, “i try. it’s just hard. i want to be here. then howl took that stupid job traveling to different countries like he doesn’t have a wife and child at home. i feel like i’ve been snapping at her which is why i sent her with her grandmother. i wanted to.. be with my husband and he’s not even here he went to america. i wanted to talk to him about this.”

you pull bada in for a hug and rub her back as she cries into your shoulder. “you’re doing the best you can, bada. you can’t be too hard on yourself. howl should’ve thought about that before he left. he needs to understand you need help.” you say softly.

bada pulls back and looks at you, “you really think i’m doing my best?”

“i do.”

there’s a tension filled silence as you look at each other. you don’t know what fueled you but you lean in and kiss her on her lips before pulling back quickly. “oh shit i’m sorry you’re married-“

she cuts you off with another kiss gripping your shirt. this one is a lot more desperate. “please…” she mumbles against your lips. “i need this please.. please don’t go.” she whines.

“your room.” you say and she stands up pulling you into the bedroom she shared with howl.

she pushes you on the bed and climbs on top of you finding your lips again as your hands trail under her shirt. you pull it off her and she whines.

“relax baby, i’ll make you feel good, just be patient.” you turn her on her back kissing her neck and down to her chest. lifting up her bra you attach to her nipple, sucking gently and she moans. you pinch the other one with your fingers and her hips buck up against you, looking for friction.

“keep your hips down.” you whisper, kissing down her stomach. you leave marks on her hip bones and she moans your name.

“y/n please… please i want you so bad!” she writhes on the bed.

you pull her shorts off and she’s not wearing anything under them. “made this easy for me huh? oh you’re so wet for me bada.” you run a finger over her clit and her leg jerks. you put her leg on your shoulder and make eye contact with her. “can i?”

“please y/n please do- OH!” she moans out when your tongue makes contact with her clit. her hands clutch the sheets as you suck on her clit, sticking two fingers in her.

her breath hitches and she lets out loud moans, “oh my god s-so good! please more!”

you insert another finger curling them up into her spot. she lets out a squeal. “why are you so good at this?” she moans, hands going to your hair as she fucks herself onto your fingers. “i’m cumming!”

you speed up your fingers, flicking your tongue skillfully and she cums with a scream, your name falling off her lips.

you pull your hand out giving her a minute to breathe. “you okay?” you run her lower stomach gently.

“i need… more. please? i have.. have toys in my sock drawer.” she pants.

you walk over to where she points and find a different array of toys. “oh you’re kinky.”

“please use whatever you want. make me your slut. please.” she whines.

you bite your lip, grabbing the dildo, a vibrator, and some handcuffs. “you mind?”

“oh please!” she moves her hands to the headboard, letting you cuff her to it. “i-i can eat you out while you fuck me. you can sit on my face.”

you shiver at the thought before stripping and doing what she wants. her tongue skillfully explores you and you question how she let a man trap her with a tongue like that? you lean forward and put the dildo in her, immediately thrusting it in and out of her while putting the vibrator on her swollen clit. she moans into you and pulls at the cuffs. you’re worried she might be uncomfortable so you lift up but she whines loudly. “i’m not finished!”

you sit back down, thrusting the toy faster and turning up the speed on the vibrator. you let out a moan trying not to grind on her face. you move when she starts to mumble something.

“what did you say baby?”

“use me. use me to get yourself off. make me your personal tuck toy.” she moans out.

you moan as you move back onto her face doing as she asks all while you fuck into her tight count with the dildo. you’re close and you know she’s close from the way her moans get higher. she latches onto your clit sucking roughly as you pound the dildo into her gspot and you’re both cumming with loud moans. you remove the toys and she squirts all over her bed. you get off her and rub her clit, helping her ride out her high.

“okay! okay i’m done i can't…i’m done please!” she moans pulling the cuffs.

“give me one more. let me make sure you’re 100% satisfied. you might not get it this good for a while.” you whisper.

she whimpers and cums one last time, her juices flow out of her and you caress her thigh gently.

“so good for me bada. did such a good job.” you uncuff her and she pulls you in for a kiss. you can taste yourself on her tongue.

“thank you.” she whispers. “i needed that. god i needed that.. tell your friend nevermind. stay with me.”

“what about your husband? and chae?” you ask.

“he’s gone for a week, chae will be back tomorrow night. after i take a nap i want to go again.” she groans, turning on her side.

grabbing your phone, you tell yuna to just bring your backpack that has your strap instead and you lay down next to bada. she immediately moves her head onto your chest and sighs, falling asleep.

that was a lot easier than you thought it would be.

[sgiandubh]

News from Birmingham, 2: 'we're out of battery soon'

ACHTUNG, BABY: these pics do NOT belong to me. Please do NOT steal them, Mordorians, as you usually do. I don't want to see them chez Marple, BIF or Purv, I do not want them on X and I certainly do NOT want them on Brazilian Instagram accounts who also charge people, or ANY OTHER Instagram account, for that matter. I will come for you with feather and brimstone if you do. Fuck ye and yer clan if you show no respect - this is a legit casus belli situation.

Heroically reporting from the Q&A panel, our girls are running out of battery juice in their phones, because -as loyal C mainly - they took a bajillion pics. I am selecting them as I write.

First thing, C specifically asked the minder (whom many people I have talked to, today, described as a 'nasty pox of a man'/'un asco de hombre') to let the fans sit next to her and ask their questions as they feel, no tedious standing in line needed. C, always the politician of Those Two, LOL:

Before anything else, I was entrusted with a FULL audio recording of the Birmingham panel. As per copyright regulations and attendance contract I am NOT allowed to post it and I do not want to harm my two wonderful friends in ANY way, shape or form. That being said, I will take my time, tonight (and lots of Nescafe Brasero Strong) to listen to it and give you all the juicy parts, in transcription. Short transcribed bits, we can do. Thank you for your understanding,

And boy, do we have juicy parts, babes. For now, I will just share the best pics and the on the spot reactions.

First question was 'how do you feel as a real mom?' Her solution was to simply say ' Sophie, where are you?' I will check with the audio and repost, but it simply goes to say: a) she won't address anything Blonde Bambino related and b) she/they are still very close to Skeleton, whom they seem to have adopted. Sort of. Sophie knows many secrets. Trust.

✔️Will she stay/remain in Scotland after OL is over? 'Well, my husband is Scottish and so are his parents'. Lip service to the narrative all the way.

✔️A fan asked something she did not understand/catch well, while Steve the 'Asco de Hombre' minder was fumbling around with the mic, so she informally went 'whaat?' So Steve dutifully barked, in a LOUD voice 'IT'S ABOUT TONY, YOUR REAL HUSBAND' (🙄 - I would fire that dick on the spot, he simply makes her look controlled and a fool). I was also told to listen carefully to the audio, for context and I shall give you my honest sentiment, as always. Note to self: to be found around the 25' mark.

✔️Turns out the fan asked if she and Tracula share the same musical tastes. She answers du tac au tac/on the spot, 'who, me and Sam?' (CAITRIONA!). And this is when Steve 'Nasty Pox of a Man' interjected, 'NO, TONY, YOUR REAL HUSBAND'. Like father, like daughter: remember that Tydavnet interview for the public Irish radio, when she was promoting Belfast? Well, there we go ('And Tony!/ 'And Tony' - zero enthusiasm, Mr. Balfe, bless your big 💖in Heaven).

I will come back with more. Our friends' batteries died, but they still managed to share with me the entire audio panel.

And I swear to God - if I ever see one of your sock accounts (@homechef, anyone?) come to steal from here and then tell the world it was the Team or who the hell else who found it while you were having your tonsils polished/an umpteeenth root canal mended/dinner with Brad Pitt's Sunset Boulevard lookalike/whatever, you shall be reported.

And yes, I have more pics. In fact, I have about 35 of them, in all and for all.

I LOVE MY FRIENDS AND THEY LOVE ME. TAKE THAT, HATERS.

[totaly-obsessed]

Baby Fever

Leah Williamson x reader

-> reader experiences Baby fever for the first time and does not know what to do with herself

-> Based on about a thousand pictures of Leah with Kids

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Tearing her ACL in April had been horrible – and Leah knew that. But she also knew that she was mentally prepared to deal with it – she was in a good place and would come out even stronger. That was the plan, and now in June, just two months in, she had her surgery done and started rehab. 

The blonde found herself having a lot more time on her hands now and she loved spending it with you and her family. While most of the world saw her go out with her best friend Alex, she came home to you – her wife for over two years now. She would not change her busy schedule for the world, even though there was a World Cup that she could not attend. 

The defender relished the time she had with her family. 

Together with her cousin Jordan, she had been working on a book, her second one but the first fiction book for children. While the beginning was slow, Leah busy with Match after Match a mountain of training in between – the process sped up rapidly after her injury. 

In June they announced the release date – the 31st of August. Which was just a little bit short of three months away, plenty of time to finish writing it. 

You had a couple weeks off as well – it was the summer holidays and the schools were closed, and you were bored out of your mind. Leah could not take your whining anymore, so she dragged you to Jordan’s house to babysit. Her husband, Rob, had to work and their one-year-old son was just as bored as you were. 

The beginning was hesitant. While Jordan was lovely, how much fun could a one-year-old be? 

Turns out, a lot of it. It had been hours by this point, from when Leah and Jordan removed themselves from the living room and moved into her office. Leaving you with little Henry. 

When the two blondes emerged from the office, two more chapters done it was dark outside already – the cousins having lost themselves between the pages. Where Jordan expected complete chaos, she found a clean home with you resting on the couch, her little boy asleep on your tummy. 

Leah’s heart melted. 

She loved kids, especially the ones in her family, and while she knew that you wanted them as well – this was new. Usually, it was her holding the kids with you watching her with wide eyes, eager to see her in such a maternal role. 

But now it was her turn to stare – and she could not help herself but imagine having a child with you. The drive home was calm with Leah’s heavy hand resting on your thigh while she drove – both of you deep in thought. 

While Leah had a busy week coming up, you had a lot of time and you found yourself watching a bunch of TikToks of adorable little babies. All of a sudden, your usual shopping trip took a different route when you stumbled upon the kid’s section. Looking at one fuzzy romper after the other – tears in your eyes as the pregnant women were met with jealous stares from you. 

You were lying in bed when Leah returned home from a night out celebrating with Alex, who promised you that she would look after the blonde. “Baby? Why are you still awake?” To your surprise, the blonde was completely sober and changed into comfy clothes before joining you under a soft blanket. 

“Look at them, Lee!” You excitedly showed her your phone, a video of a baby meeting a cute little kitten. 

“Very cute baby. But that is what kept you up?” You hesitated for a second before showing her video after video of little kids and babies until you finally fell asleep, the blonde gently took the phone out of your hand. 

While your wife had no clue what had gotten into you, she loved it. 

Aston Villa had beaten Arsenal 2-0 in one of the last games of the season. And while it had broken Leah's heart she was still there, supporting her girls. 

Once the match was over the two of you had joined the teams on the pitch when a little blonde girl caught your eye. She was heading straight to you, making grabby hands with her tiny fists at you – so without much thinking, you hoisted her up onto your hips. “Leah!” 

“I’m not Leah baby. You wanna go see her?” Big blue eyes stared into your soul and with just a little imagination you could see a little Leah in her. 

You did not have to look very far to find your wife as she limped her way over to you. “And who are you, little lady?” The toddler however did not care about formalities and went straight to business 

“Faster tan you!” A fake gasp left Leah’s lips at the words.

“I don’t believe you! I think we will have to race!” 

And with that, you were made the race official, moving back a good distance, as you clapped into your hands. 

The tiny blonde started making her way to you, Leah following her on her as well as she could. You could see in your wife’s face that she was in pain, yet she tried to make this as fun as possible for the young girl who she just knew had taken over your heart. 

To no one’s surprise, it was the toddler who ran into your arms – winning the race. “Good job girlie!” With the girl back on your hips, you made your way over to Leah, rewarding her valiant efforts with a kiss. 

About a million pictures were being taken right now but neither of you minded. 

“Kimie!” The toddler in your arms had found her aunt, so the two of you said ‘bye-bye’ to Leah. 

Katie just had to tease her vice-captain “Careful Lee, your eyes will glue themselves to ya missus!” The nudge to the blonde's side nearly made her fall over after the exhausting sprint. “Shut up McCabe.” 

“Aww – grouchy. You jealous that it's not yours?” Leah knew that her friend referred to the toddler who did not want to leave her wife's arms, but she could not face that right now. “At least I still have a wife.” 

Ouch. That hurt. 

Back at your joined home, you could not stop talking about Kim’s niece, showing her picture after picture you had taken with the little girl. “What’s gotten into you baby?” 

You knew it was coming, but you still tried to play dumb. “What are you talking about?” Leah took hold of both of your wrists in one of her hands, keeping you sat on the couch, stopping you from fleeing. The other hand found its way to your hair, stroking it gently, hoping to calm you down. 

“Don’t play dumb baby. I found tiny shoes in our closet this afternoon. Shoes that are much too small for either of us.” 

Your eyes roamed the room, desperate for an explanation when you found the first copy of ‘The Wonder Team’. “They’re for Jordan!”  

But the blonde did not even have to say anything, already seeing your eyes tearing up. She pulled you on her lap, as you sobbed into her shoulder. “I- I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I jus couldn’t help myself.” 

You were slurring your words together, making it hard to understand. Your wife however pulled out her phone and opened the period tracker she had for you. “Baby, you are close to ovulation. Your body is ready for a baby.” 

But your crying did not stop, it just got worse. 

“Yeah, b- but I don’t usually get like this.” Leah did not know how or what to answer, the last week had been exhausting on your mind so she just leaned back, positioning you in a way that you could hear her calming heartbeat as your swollen eyes started to droop. 

“I jus wan a baby with you.” The footballer could not help herself but coo at your sleepy confession as she rubbed your back. 

“I know baby – me too.”

[estrellami-1]

We’ll Help You

Started as Steve and Robin platonic soulmate fluff. Devolved into *vaguely waves hands* whatever the fuck this is. I considered writing more but realized it would very quickly become Just Words, instead of a story, and I want y’all to have this because personally I think Steve and Robin are Goals in this one. As it is, there will not be a part 2 to this one… at least, not one written by me! If y’all want to do something by with this, go right ahead; just tag me in it!

“Bye, Mom, Dad, I’m going to Steve’s!” Robin calls into the house.

“Have fun!” Her mother calls back.

“Use protection!” Her dad yells.

“Dick!” Her mother yells back.

“That’s what I’m saying!” He says.

Melissa sighs. “Richard,” she says, faux-sweetly, “Robin and Steve are not together. She’s told us this many times.”

“Yeah, and neither were we when you-”

“Richard!” Melissa takes a breath. “Bye, Robin. Have fun, okay?”

“Okay,” Robin says, and closes the door, getting into Steve’s car with wide eyes.

He chuckles at her expression. “You good?”

“My parents have scarred me.”

Steve makes a face. “What, did you walk in on them?”

“No, they were talking about when they had me! I don’t need to know this, Steven!” She hisses back.

Steve just snorts, shakes his head, and drives on.

Robin is suddenly hit with a familiar, unwelcome pain. “Fuck,” she hisses, bending over and clutching her stomach. “Steve? I need to turn around.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

She wants to cry. “I, uh. Just started? And I didn’t bring anything with me.”

“Oh.” A pause, “What medicine do you usually take?”

She blinks. “Um. Advil?”

“Okay. Then I’ve got you covered.”

“No- Steve, it’s not just-”

“Robin,” he says calmly, “I’ve got you covered. I’ve got supplies at home.”

She blinks at him. “Since when?”

His cheeks pinken. “Since we became friends? I just… I dunno. I knew we were gonna be forever, y’know? And I want you to have access to anything you’ll need. So I got some stuff.”

“What the fuck,” she whispers, tears beading in her eyes. “What the fuck, Steve, I’m gonna cry, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Steve shrugs. “I just want you to have what you need.”

She sniffles and leans her head against the window. “Fuck, I love you.”

Steve smiles, puts a hand on her arm, squeezes gently. “Love you too, Robin.”

They get back to his house and get settled in on the couch. “I’ve got a heating pad, if you want it,” Steve offers.

Robin blinks at him. “Marry me.”

Steve laughs. “I thought that’s exactly what we’re trying to convince your parents isn’t happening.”

“I don’t care,” she responds, groaning in relief when she positions the heating pad. She collapses back into the corner of the couch. “I want to have a dick.”

Steve laughs. “You can’t even look at a dick, Robin.”

“I could if it was mine,” she argues nonsensically.

“You don’t want a dick,” he assures her, then pauses. “If you were a guy, would you still like girls? Or would you still be gay?”

“I… don’t know,” she says, thinking. “I mean, there’s people who were born one gender and are the other now, right? And they still like the same gender. So I would too.”

“Okay, but are we talking you were born a guy? Or you’d turn into a guy? Cause if you were born a guy, that might change things.”

Robin groans in frustration. “I wouldn’t care, as long as Satan stopped throwing parties in my uterus every month.”

Steve snickers. “I can’t fix that, but I do have chocolate ice cream.”

“And again I say, marry me.”

He smiles at her, affection shining through. “We’d be the best platonic husband and wife ever.”

Robin smiles, best she can through the pain. “Only if I’m the husband.”

“Okay,” Steve shrugs. “I can be the wife.” He pauses for a second, then asks, “Is that… is that something you’d want? Being a guy?”

Robin hums. “No. Much as I hate certain things that come with being a woman, I definitely wouldn’t want to be a guy.” Steve hums, frowning, and Robin shifts on the couch. “Hold on,” she says, “I know that look. What’re you thinking?”

“Just…” he runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t get what the big deal is? I don’t have super strong feelings about being a guy. There’s nothing telling me, this is who you’re supposed to be.”

“Okay,” Robin says slowly, carefully, “and how about your feelings on being a girl?”

Steve shrugs. “Same. I don’t care either way.”

“Huh,” Robin says, and leans back. “That’s… I mean, that’s okay, obviously, but that’s not… what a guy would typically say.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, ‘cause you’re such an expert on guys.”

Robin groans and thinks her head on the cushion. “Okay, so call someone. Call Eddie, he’d know, right?”

“Oh yeah,” Steve says, and hops up from the couch. “Hey, while I’m over here, should I order a pizza?”

Robin snickers. “Call Eddie first. Maybe he’ll come over and it’ll be the three of us. Actually, don’t even tell him, just invite him over. I wanna see his face when you tell him.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Robs. Eddie, hey! Wanna come over? Pizza and ice cream with me and Robin?”

Robin hisses at him, so he says, “Sorry, ice cream’s been spoken for, actually. Wait, Robs, are you sure? The whole tub?”

“Do not test me, Steven,” comes her response.

“Yeah, okay. Yeah, if you want to get one for the two of us to share, that would be great. See you in twenty? Okay, cool. I’ll order the pizza. Bye!”

He orders the pizza without a hitch. He’s promised delivery within fifteen minutes and wanders back over to the couch, where he grins at Robin. “Wanna pick a movie before Eddie gets here and can veto it?”

Robin grins back. “You know I’m gonna pick something you hate.”

“I know.” His smile turns more genuine. “As long as you’re happy.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

He waves her off. “Course you do. You gonna pick?”

“I’m surprised you doubted me,” she says, and picks something he hadn’t realized he had.

The pizza arrives a short minute before Eddie does. They all eat before Robin makes Steve and Eddie sit so she can recap everything.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, shrugging. “I just don’t care.”

“So our question is,” Robin says, “do you? Is there something in you that says you’re a guy, or would be wrong as a girl?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods, studying Steve. “Y’know there’s people in between? Who aren’t really a guy or a girl?”

Steve’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “They go by they or them, and a lot of times they’ll change their name to be something more in-between too, like Avery or Taylor.”

“Huh,” Steve says, tipping his head back to stare through the ceiling as he thinks. “So… so if I were to do that… and maybe go by Stevie-”

“Then we’d call you Stevie,” Eddie nods. “We’d say they’re so cool, they have a nailbat, I’m so glad I’m friends with them.”

“Oh,” Steve says. His voice is shaky.

“Stevie,” Robin murmurs. “You’re crying.”

“Oh,” he says again, wiping his face and giving a little laugh. “Sorry. I dunno why. I think… that makes sense.” They look at Eddie, then Robin, holds eye contact when they say, “That’s who I am.”

Robin’s tearing up, too. “Nice to meet you, Stevie,” she whispers.

They choke out a little laugh and move to sit next to her, pulling her into a hug. “Love you, Robbie.”

“You too,” she whispers. “Hey, can I still call you dingus?”

Stevie laughs. “Sure, Robs.”

“Cool.” She beams and pulls them into a tight hug. “‘M glad you figured this out.”

Stevie giggles. “Me too.” They turn to Eddie, “Thanks for helping me figure this out.”

Eddie smiles warmly at them. “Anytime,” he promises. “And hey, now that you know, there’s plenty you can do, if you want to.”

Stevie furrows their brows. “Like what?”

“Well, you could grow your hair out, or cut it. You could change your wardrobe. You could get makeup, if you wanted. Anything that’ll help you feel more like you.”

Stevie frowns. “I don’t know what feels like me.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie says, smiling first at them, then at Robin. “We’ll help you.”

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[g0thnico]

Things that if I were Rick Riordan I would make more dramatic:

Percy and Gabe's relationship. I understand that it's a children's series so it's normal not to be explored as much, but if PJO was written by me, I would be turning this into one of the main points of Percy's traumas

Percy's mortal life. The only times this is introduced in PJO is to show something divine next, usually monsters or new problems. I would have shown more of what Percy was like at school and his relationship with mortals (or lack thereof)

Percy's powers. Okay, Percy is super powerful and doesn't have any conditions for this?? Nico has nothing more fair. For me, Percy's healing should 2hurt, a burning sensation for cuts and the feeling of bones going back into place when he needs to fix them. In addition, his ability to control water will cause hunger that varies according to how much he used his powers

Ares. Okay Ares is the god of war, but also the protector of women, don't you think he would have at least conflicted feelings about Percy because he was abused along with his mother? I think he would have at least a little empathy for him because of Sally

Percy's romantic life. Okay Rick, we already understand that you definitely don't know how to write romance novels, so leave it to me. Your development of Percabeth was crap and Perachel manages to make it worse, don't even talk to me about Percalypso, he accidentally ended up making Percy's romantic development with two of Hades' sons better than the canon couples. Yes, I'm talking about Bianca di Angelo because it seems like no one noticed the way he talked about Bianca (she was different from the other girls and easy to talk to), Nico (he felt a great sense of protection towards him and couldn't stop thinking about the boy who ran away) and HADES (he was amazed by Hades' dark form and would like to sleep at his feet????)

Grover and Percy soul connection. The fact that Grover and Percy are bonded and feel each other's feelings and the fact that if one dies, the other dies with them, has only been explored 2 or 3 times and that is absurd!!!! I would do at least 5 dramatic scenes where Percy feels an indescribable sadness and can't show anything but Grover cries and breaks down in helplessness just by feeling his friend's emotions. Maybe another one where Grover almost dies and Percy spits blood and faints and everyone has to find a way to save both of them or simply undo the bond before one dies, or even take care of one through the other's body (if that's possible) ok I have a lot of ideas

finally, the older brother complex coming from Sally (feeling like the experiment that went wrong and watching what went right grow). Long title, I know, but it's necessary and self-explanatory. Sally had Percy and went through a lot of hardships because he was a demigod and she was practically a single mother (having Gabe as a husband is the same as nothing) so Percy grew up with a lot of trauma and somewhat neglected by his parents and society (don't be fooled, Sally is an excellent mother, but they were a poor family and she had to work, leaving the boy to fend for himself and become somewhat independent too soon). He did everything possible to avoid causing trouble and in Sally's eyes, he really didn't! She sees all the problems they went through as the fault of the gods or monsters, not her son (the victim). So Sally gets rid of Gabe, moves out, marries a good man who understands her and accepts her "we have to deal with half-blood stuff" lifestyle, and has a normal, mortal daughter who has a perfect family. Percy never had that, and when he does, he feels like he's second best in this butter-business family. So he wants his sister to have the best life possible but realizes it's too late for him to live that

and the younger brother complex from Poseidon (feels like he must exceed his expectations, become the hero everyone expects, become as good as all the other sons of Poseidon). Percy is a demigod, accidentally a son of Poseidon and that shouldn't be a big deal. But suddenly there is a prophecy and he is the chosen one, so he is Poseidon's favorite son, strongest demigod, hero of Olympus and he needs to be strong, more than ever Percy needs to be not only good, but the best. Never in his life was he expected to do anything, not even get past the 6th grade so dad God Almighty puts all this weight on his back and he almost dies more times than he can count

[izvmimi]

daddy's home (2) - izuku x reader

cw: MINORS DNI, noncon/dubcon, horror themes, you and izuku have a child, parental dynamics, manipulation, villain!deku, yandere!deku, violence, fem!reader summary: izuku tries to make amends with his family after his absence. (~3.4k words) a/n: reposted. part 1 here.

As you continue to hear his footsteps approach, the dreadful sound amplified by genuine fear of your partner, you think wistfully of the past. 

Clearly, it hadn’t always been like this. Izuku, at his core, was someone sweet - bashful, kind, protective… not whatever monster was marching through your home this very second, causing your mind to race as you thought frantically of ways to protect your daughter. That was your first priority.

But he wouldn’t hurt his daughter, right? That’s where he would draw the line, no matter how altered his thoughts concerning allies versus enemies had become over time. And even if now you had drawn a clear line in the sand, you’d like to think that he wouldn’t hurt you - he hadn’t ever threatened to hurt you, now had he? He’d only given you warnings, reminding you that turning against him wouldn’t be in your best interest. After all, according to him, he’s the only one who really cares for your well-being. That’s why he married you, right?

“I... I think all of this is excessive,” you mumble to Mei as she demonstrates the security upgrades to your home. Iida shakes his head almost furiously, and seems to double and triple-check his wife’s work and potential blind spots, peering at new cameras shoved in the corners where the ceilings meet and laser tripwires invisible to the naked eye. There’s a panic device in the hallway between the kitchen and one of the living rooms hidden behind a wedding picture where both of your smiles are radiant enough to be blinding. The fact that it’s come to this makes your stomach turn. 

“In all honesty, there’s a good chance it might not be enough,” Mei admits, and the fact that for once she realistically communicates her own engineering limitations underlines how grave the situation is. If even she is admitting that she’s not infallible, that means your situation is bad.

What is he, God? You think bitterly, but resign yourself to saying nothing. You are not too distraught to accept kindness from your friends.

Bakugou, for example, now texts you every morning, a simple two words.

You good?

While you understand and appreciate where he’s coming from, every time you see those words, you can feel yourself losing your patience. If you could have your husband back, you’d be great. Fantastic even! You’d always texted back the same thing, in different variations - 

Yeah, thanks for checking!

He never responded after that. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; it’s that he still did not want to entertain the idea that his friend had gone off the deep end for too long. 

It’s hard for everyone, not just your family, you have to remember.

You can hear Izuku’s steps almost right outside your door, the pace almost synchronous with the pounding in your heart. There’s no use in hiding anymore. Steeling your resolve, you hold your slumbering daughter close for a moment, and kiss her forehead.

“Mommy loves you,” you whisper. She doesn’t stir, and you wonder what it is to be a child again, safe and naive and uncorrupted by circumstance.

And then you tumble out of the room to face him.

—

He stands at the end of the hall facing you; you stand, fists balled tightly by your sides and your expression unnecessarily fierce - it’s thought that fear and anger often are mistaken for each other, and Izuku seems to think so today as well.

He tilts his head slightly, and his voice is slightly raspy, deeper than usual, as he calls out to you. There’s a strained quality to it, as though his voice has been unused for a while, even though the two of you did technically just speak, or maybe he’s forgotten how to speak to you softly, how to speak to anyone with kindness.

But he tries.

“Are you mad at me, love?”

There’s a little bit of electricity in the air that you can feel in the strands of your hair that you know emanates from him. Energy that he hasn’t kept inside now that he has no reason to show any restraint. His eyes aren’t glowing however; if anything, they’re devoid of any light, dull like a lifeless forest in the dead of night. You wonder if, haggard as he appears now even if he is always and forever handsome, has come out of the wilderness. Where does he stay when he’s not here? Where is he physically when mentally he is lost?

You can’t get words out of your throat no matter how hard you try to answer him. He breathes from his nose, a sigh, and in the blink of an eye, he’s crossed the distance between you two, and has you pressed up against the wall. Caged in, his hands pressed on either side to make it clear that you have no escape, your faces are millimeters apart. This is not the man you love who values your space and your autonomy and the idea of you, above all, freely offering yourself to him. 

This is not your Izuku.

Nevertheless, not-Izuku kisses you roughly and bites your lip sharply as his mouth disconnects from yours. It’s painful and bruising and you think you taste blood, but the salt on your tongue probably comes from the tears that fall from your eyes as you tremble. 

When you look at him through a moisture-blurred view, for a moment it seems as though his eyes shine too. 

Maybe, maybe for a moment. You blink, and they’re dull again.

“Izuku, please don’t hurt her,” is the first thing that falls from your lips. 

His facial expression turns wicked for a moment and then he laughs and it is not his laugh. It’s something tinny and sick and wrong coming from him. He kisses you again, bites even harder this time, enough that you wince, and this time you are sure your lip is bleeding. 

“Hurt? Why would I hurt my princess? How could you even ask something so silly?”

Izuku presses his forehead against yours, and his cool breath runs over your wet cheeks. His hands grip your wrists and raise them up above your head, pressing the back of your hands to the wall.

“Why would I hurt her or you when you’re so vulnerable and need to be cared for?” The way he stresses that adjective - vulnerable - turns your stomach and your whole body tenses, which he notices, tightening his grip on your wrists. 

“See, love, that’s why I had to come back. I said I would come back, didn’t I? To think I’d leave the two of you alone in such a twisted, unsafe world… what kind of man would I be if I behaved like this?”

You swallow hard, unable to look at him as you search for other points to focus on. He notices.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he hisses. Your eyes snap obediently away from everywhere else in the room and focus on him. There’s nothing behind his eyes. You want to scream into the endless void you stare into. What happened to him? What happened to your Deku?

“W-what do you want?”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrow, and for a moment, he looks genuinely confused, like a kid faced with a particularly difficult arithmetic problem. You stun him enough with your words that he lets go of your wrists for a moment and steps back, rubbing his chin.

It wasn’t meant to be said harshly - maybe it was your grief that hardened your voice, but he seems to retreat to somewhere deep in his chest, before shaking his head.

He smiles again, that unnatural grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I thought I was coming home. Do I need permission to see my family?” he asks in a honeyed voice. 

He leans in further, pressing a scarred, calloused hand to your cheek and stroking gently. Once upon a time, you would have leaned into his palm and kissed it, maybe even pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt so that you could kiss him. 

But all you can do is freeze, and let it pass. 

And he gets impatient. His fingers now pinch instead of caressing; it would be cute, and it was once cute, when he pulled your cheeks like this to steal a kiss, but now the downturn of his lips show that he is trying very hard not to accept the truth that you are rejecting him, or at least the ‘him’ that you see before you now.

His voice flattens.

“You really thought you’d keep me out with those silly trinkets?” he growls. The other shoe has dropped.

“Who made them?” he asks. “Who did you ask to help you keep me out of my own home?”

Izuku’s hands move quickly, now cupping your chin in his hands and pulling you to him roughly as he stands, so that you’re nearly lifted up off your feet. It’s an action that’s lacking any tenderness as though he’ll yank your head clearly off your shoulders. 

“Honey? That’s a direct question, not rhetorical,” he repeats.

You don’t utter a single word, and by now he’s beyond frustrated. He lets go of your face and you lose your balance ever so slightly, but before you fall he grabs your wrist again. You pull away reflexively and a flash of anger rises in him, and he pulls even harder, enough that you can feel the tingle of his Quirk intensify. 

“Clearly, we seem to be having trouble with intimacy, so I guess we’ll have to address that first before I ask you to communicate basic information with me.” The edge to his voice is palpable but the pain of the pressure he’s putting on your arm is almost worse and you try so hard not to cry out at the sensation of him nearly crushing your bones, knowing very well that this is the least of his rough handling of you for now but then - 

“Daddy?”

Your heart stops. Izuku lets go immediately, and you turn around with a gasp to see your little girl, a flurry of nightclothes and curly green hair, leap into his arms without the slightest bit of hesitation.

No, no, no, how… of all the times to wake up! You ignore the dead feeling in your arm to run into him and shove him as he holds your daughter and twirls her around, but he barely feels you, and you practically bounce off of him like rubber on glue. 

She barely even notices you fall flat on your ass. Rather, she lets her father give her the affection she’s been missing for months, and you can only watch in abject horror as Izuku throws her up and down in the air a couple times, then asks her if she’s been good.

“Daddy, where’d you go?” She finally asks, once she’s stopped giggling. Her cheeks are rosy and excited and her eyes are bright enough to fill his darkened ones - you clutch your bruised arm and can only watch. 

Izuku glances at you then blows a raspberry in his daughter’s neck which has her giggling again.

“Mommy gave me a timeout!” he says cheerfully, holding her close. She nuzzles herself into the security of his chest, and holds tightly.

“Time out?” she murmurs. She clutches at his shirt possessively, and Izuku gives you a look. Your stare becomes hardened - it’s a plea but it’s also a threat that he better not try a single funny thing with her because then fear will give way to desperation and he will have to be prepared to kill you instantly and-

He laughs - it’s less tinny than before, but still it sucks warmth out of the room, unbeknownst to your daughter. “Yeah when you’re bad you get time out!” he reminds her, poking her belly. She laughs again and presses her hands on his cheeks squishing them.

“You can’t be bad!” she exclaims.

Izuku glances at you again, his chuckle drier and his eyes more narrow as he adjusts his baby girl in his arms.

“Well, your mommy seems to think so,” he replies, quieter this time. Somehow, she picks up the serious turn to his voice.

Your baby girl looks at you too, disheveled on the ground and breathing a bit heavier than usual, looking wrong, like a feral creature, the sudden reversal of positions being apparent in such a short time. 

She looks into your soul for a moment and furrows her eyebrows. She is thinking - assessing the situation. Her father who she hasn’t seen in quite a while is holding her tightly, her mother sits in a heap and does nothing. It is always too dark in this house these days. She can’t see clearly, not this, not anything.

“That’s not right, Mommy,” she says, finally. 

Your heart pounds. You want to charge at him,  knowing full well all you will do is traumatize your daughter at best and get yourself killed at worst. You swallow your saliva as your throat is hot and dry.

Izuku grins at you, then pats her hair gently. He sets her down and kneels to her eye level. 

“Can you be a good girl for me, sweetie?” he asks.

She nods enthusiastically, clutching fistfuls of her dress to contain her excitement at having her dad home. The longer you watch her beam the more you feel like you want to puke up your insides. What do you do? What do you do?

“Go to your room and I’ll tuck you in in a little bit, okay?”

She nods and runs off immediately, back to the center of the home where you’re not sure how much of the structure still stands appropriately, but Izuku wouldn’t send her where it’s not safe - that’s his little girl after all - and the two of you watch as her small figure disappears.

The moment she’s out of sight, you finally spit up the vitriol that’s been bubbling inside you since that horrible display.

“Fuck you.”

You’re shaking, you are so upset. The thought that he can just barge in here, and put you in an awful situation, making you look like a bad person no matter what you do. 

Izuku’s dusky eyes narrow, and in seconds he’s dragging you to your feet and pulling you into the nearest bedroom.

“Gladly.”

It doesn’t matter how hard you kick and scream and protest. Eventually, Izuku gets tired, and throws you over his shoulder, clapping a hand over your mouth. You bite his palm and he barely reacts and instead of biting harder, you break out into muffled sobs. You don’t want to hurt him, it occurs to you. You don’t have the resolve to truly take purchase into his flesh and tear away like a beast.

He throws you onto the bed and locks the door as you bury your face into the bedsheets, continuing to muffle your tears. You’re not crying because you hate him, it’s because you love him still and the situation is so awful and confusing that it’s clear that there’s no way out. You scream and terrify your daughter, and Izuku will make you the problem. If she, by some magic, understands what’s going on, is it worth it for her to develop that same darkness behind your Izuku’s eyes right now?

Izuku snorts derisively as he watches you come undone in your own mind, as the reality sets in that there is truly no way out of this situation. You sob, and you sob and you sob, and he lets you, watching you with neutrality that is so atypical of him. You’re not the first person he’s seen cry, and even if you are the most important person to him, he’s had enough of your tears. Any tears, in fact. 

He sits at the edge of the bed until your sniffles die out, then finally runs out of patience.

“Stop it.”

You rise slowly to watch him stare at you, his own eyes red-rimmed. It’s the most emotion you’ve seen out of him since today, but you can’t understand what he’s feeling. You can barely understand your own right now. 

You sniffle and he sneers.

“Stop it right now,” he repeats, harshly this time. His lips crash into yours again and he pushes you so that you lay on your back. He tears at your clothes and your defenses, and soon you are kissing back, miserable and pathetic a creature as you are.

He whispers something about loving you and never letting you go, and you don’t have the strength to whisper back but you know it’s true. Your body misses him, misses the heat of his skin against yours and the scrape of his tongue across your nipples. It misses his fingers that tease you apart and make you fall apart, the sensation of being full of love for him and physically stretched and strained to accommodate him. It misses his teeth marking you, palms sliding across every surface.

“It h-hurts, Izuku,” you moan, sucking at his shoulder to distract from the corrupted pleasure. He groans into you as he continues to dig, deeper still when your nails dig into his back, deeper still when your legs tighten around his waist. “It h-hurts,” you murmur into his neck.

“You’ll endure for me, won’t you baby?” 

He doesn’t stop; maybe he slows, but he doesn’t stop.

The truth is you will. It’s not the only thing you’ll endure for him, you think as your head swims in desire.

“You feel better than I remember,”  he groans into your ear. “Perfectly tight, like you’ve been waiting for me this entire time to reclaim you, haven’t you?”

You sigh deeply and your back arches as you climax. It’s the only answer he needs.

“You’re mine forever, no matter what, aren’t you?” he says.

Till death do we part, you think, and you crash into full, reckless indulgence. Your husband lets out a cry; his hips stutter to a stop and he pumps you full, over and over again, and before you can catch your breath, he begins again. Faster this time.

“I love you. I will love you to pieces,” he whispers into your ear, and for the first time that day, looks at you with his own eyes, the look you remember. Your eyes well up. You’ve missed him terribly.

Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I love you, too.”

There’s catching up to do.

—

Bakugou has not heard from you all morning, and while he tries not to think about it, he can’t help but think about it. 

It’s only been a couple hours - he sent the message somewhere around 8 am, knowing that you’re usually up by this time. However, it’s almost 11 am and you should at least be up to take your daughter to school and yet you’ve neglected to respond. 

Not even a read receipt.

Oi, just let me know you’ve seen this message, okay? He texts finally, before shoving his phone back into his pocket. There’s quite a few other things he needs to be worrying about today, including tracking members of the second iteration of the League of Villains and figuring out what exactly happened to his friend. You are fine. You have to be, he thinks. 

His phone buzzes.

Instead of a message, it’s a video according to the banner. Bakugou hesitates, and there’s a tiny bit of dread as he opens it.

And his eyes widen in horror. 

You are wrapped up in white sheets, body facing away from the camera, but he can tell from the transparency that you’re most likely wearing nothing else. By the steady rise and fall of your chest, he can tell you’re still alive, albeit fast asleep. The camera shakes ever so slightly. 

From the audio, which he turns up he can hear a voice, Izuku’s voice.

“She’s just fine, don’t worry about us.” 

The video ends and Bakugou can feel his blood run cold as his mind begins to race. Before he can play the video again to look for clues, there’s a text message that pops up.

If you text my wife again, I’ll dash your brains on the concrete.

Have a lovely day.