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ultralightpoe · 6 months ago

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JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain.

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person.

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth.

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare.

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said.

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’. But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink.

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention. Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat.

This could be fun.

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it.

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh.

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic.

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin.

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?”

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost.

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door.

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you.

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.”

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.”

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress.

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath.

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms.

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining.

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him.

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence.

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark.

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster.

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about.

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill.

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person.

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors.

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan.

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn.

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back.

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off.

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to.

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap.

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm.

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check.

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement.

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you.

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.”

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt.

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center.

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own.

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair.

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan.

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him.

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up.

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze.

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them.

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time.

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back.

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure.

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off.

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild.

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump.

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher.

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets.

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was empty.

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs.

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin.

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

“Goodnight, Doll.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door.

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look.

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

[Thank you for the gif @weekdaygladers ]

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel fluff #marvel angst #winter soldier

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buckyalpine · 10 months ago

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Chicken nuggies.

Crack thought with all the fluff. ALL the fluff. Maybe a tiny dash of angst at the start but it's to set the plot.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong went sideways as soon as the mission started. The team was ambushed. Bucky was separated from everyone else. His trigger words blared through the speakers and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the soldier from awakening.

Worst of all, you were badly injured. Steve groaned in pain, struggling to pull himself up when he saw the solider lock his eyes on your limp form, taking long strides towards you with purpose.

That wasn't good.

"Tony-I-I need back up, y/n is-what the hell"

Steve blinked watching his friend pick you up with the utmost care, holding you securely in his arms. A hydra agent attempted to order him, only to be silenced with a knife thrown to the throat. The soldier made his way towards the exit with you along with a limping Steve trailing behind him.

"Buck-

"Быстрее" [move] he ordered, carrying you close to his chest and sitting in his designated on the spot on the jet. He didn't say a word as the others filed in, growling when Tony didn't start the engine up fast enough. No one dared look in your direction, not wanting to make the wrong move and happy that Bucky had busied himself with looking over your injuries, mumbling in Russian while letting his hand brush over your cheek.

As soon as the jet touched the ground, he was on his feet and carrying you over to the medbay, refusing to set you down until he saw a doctor ready to help. While it wasn't exactly protocol to have him in the operating room while the doctors worked, no one was interested in arguing back with him when he placed himself in a corner, watching intently. His blue eyes which were normally filled with warmth and softness were now stone cold, eyeing every single movement of what was being done to you, his gaze relaxing when the surgeon gave him a shaky thumbs up.

He sat by your side the entire time, gear still strapped to his body, watching the steady beep of your heart monitor while you slept, the rest of the team quietly waiting outside. Sam peered in, quickly retreating back when Bucky glowered at him, getting up and closing the door so you could rest. He and Steve continued to peep through the little glass window, immediately ducking when they could feel steel blue eyes watching him.

"Do we try and help or-

"I don't want to die yet, also based on what I'm seeing, y/n in the safest place she could be"

You sighed happily as you blinked awake, feeling hazy as if you were floating upon the softest of clouds. The room was bright and clean, you could have been in heaven for all you knew.

Or you were just high as a kite from all the pain killers.

Then you saw him beside you.

Such a gorgeous man.

Handsome.

One who gave you butterflies with shy smiles.

"Soldat" You giggled, reaching over to stroke his scruffy cheek, brushing your thumb over the scowl on his lips, "Hi" You admired his sharp jaw, idly tracing over his features while his mouth twitched into something of a smile, all his muscles finally relaxing seeing you awake.

You yawned, stretching yourself out like a kitten out before rolling over with a flop to face the very pretty man who was sitting at your bedside. Your admiration was cut short with the rumble of your tummy.

There was only one thing you wanted now.

"Soldat, I want chicken nuggies" You demanded, the growl of your stomach solidifying your request. He simply nodded, getting up and out of his seat, making his way over to the one place he knew you'd want your "nuggies" from.

"H-how may I h-help you" The Mc Donald's cashier stared at the numerous guns and knifes strapped to the infamous soldier, his metal arm pointing to a kids meal combo that came with a 6 piece nugget.

A little red box was placed in front of him at lightening speed but that wasn't good enough. He peered into the bag, frowning when he saw a toy that you already had. He grabbed it and placed it back onto the counter, staring at the trembling employee while they rummaged to find a new one, grabbing fistfuls and stuffing into the bag instead. The soldier nodded when he was given one you didn't have before, making his way back to ensure you were fed.

It didn't take long for the news outlets to catch on that the Winter Soldier was out buying Happy Meals.

*Tony's suit, Thors hammer, Steve's now broken shield and some gentle deprogramming later*

"Still want more nuggies" You murmured against Bucky's chest, still a little hazy while he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I'll always get you chicken nuggies, doll"

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sunshineangel0 · 3 months ago

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-control. ⋆｡°

pairing- mafia boss!bang chan x enforcer!reader summary- A business meeting turns violent when you—second-in-command of the Stray Kids Syndicate—break the nose of a man who dared to undermine you. The room watches in tense silence, but Bang Chan? Your boss? He’s amused. What starts as a power play spirals into something far more dangerous when Chan finally pushes back—and neither of you are willing to lose. genre- mafia au, workplace romance (???) word count- 2.1k warnings- violence (reader breaks someone's nose), powerplay, blood and injury mentions, implied dom/sub, heavy attraction, heavy make out, explicit tension, slight choking (light touch, not aggressive), strong language, bang chan being dangerously seductive a/n- part two of the stress relief series. that happens when i should be studying and procrastinate instead. part two

Blood smeared across your knuckles and your still perfectly manicured hands, a crimson testament to the chaos that had erupted. Whose blood it was, you couldn't be sure, but in this moment, it was irrelevant. The air hung heavy with tension, as if it were a palpable entity, and the steady hum of the fluorescent lights overhead did little to dispel the charged atmosphere. The meeting had unraveled into pandemonium, threads of order snapping one by one—all because of you.

Earlier, he had been sitting across from you, his voice slicing through yours, dismissing every word you said, treating you like an afterthought when you were the second-in-command.

"Look, sweetheart, we all know you're just here because Chan likes having a pretty face at the table."

"You should let the men handle this—it's not really your area, is it?"

"Tell me, does he let you talk this much when you're not at the table? Or just in bed?"

Now, he lay sprawled on the floor, a crumpled heap, his hands desperately clutching at his nose, which was clearly broken, blood trickling down his face. He groaned, voice thick with pain. "You— you crazy bitch—”

You tilted your head, expression eerily calm. “Crazy?” You took a slow step forward, watching as he flinched away. “No, darling.” You crouched down beside him, wiping your bloody knuckles against your sleeve. “What’s crazy is that you thought I’d just sit there and take your bullshit.”

His eyes widened, but he still had the audacity to glare.

"You think you can just—" You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up just enough for your lips to hover near his ear."I don’t think. I know." Then, just as easily, you shoved him back to the floor.

You stood above him, your breaths coming out in measured, steady intervals, your fingers flexing as if testing their strength. Your gaze bore down on him, cold and unyielding, seeing him as nothing more than an insignificant pest. "This was your warning," you had stated, your voice low and dangerous. "Next time, I won’t be so nice."

And just like that, silence reigned. The room's occupants were frozen, eyes wide, breaths held, watching and waiting for what would happen next.

Because everyone in the dimly lit room could feel the tension crackling in the air, aware of what was about to unfold. Not from you, the one who had just thrown the punch. But from him. Bang Chan, the leader of the notorious Stray Kids Syndicate. He was the man you reported to, the one who held your fate in the palm of his hand.

Chan was currently leaning against the long, polished oak table, his arms casually crossed over his chest. His head was tilted slightly to one side, and his dark eyes were fixed on you with a look of unreadable amusement. He seemed unfazed, almost entertained, by the chaos you had just caused.

He hadn’t intervened. He hadn’t instructed you to take a seat. He hadn’t reprimanded you for the bloodied, crooked nose of one of his business partners, now gingerly nursing his face on the other side of the room. And that was what made the others shift uncomfortably on their feet, casting nervous glances at each other. Because Chan wasn’t displaying any signs of anger, and that unpredictability was unsettling.

No.He was entertained, and that was a far more dangerous state for him to be in. The room was thick with a tense silence, the kind that precedes a storm. Then, Chan broke it with a soft, low chuckle that seemed to reverberate through the dimly lit room. “Now look what you did,” he murmured, stepping forward with a casual confidence, his hands buried in the depths of his pockets. “You made them mad.”

A slow smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you locked eyes with him, your gaze steady and unyielding. “Them?” you questioned, your voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Chan's eyebrow arched in response, and he flicked his chin toward the man sprawled on the floor, clutching his ribs as he groaned in pain. “Your little punching bag,” he replied, the words dripping with a playful taunt.

You let out a short, breathy laugh, the sound echoing off the cracked, plastered walls. Then, with a fluid motion, you gestured around the room. “Well. I didn’t throw a chair across someones face when they got on my nerves like the last time” The edge in your voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife.“That was very mindful,” you continued. “Very mature. And very stable.”

Chan halted just a foot away, his head tilting slightly as if contemplating a puzzle only he could solve.

He let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, shaking his head with an air of exasperation. "You love testing me, don’t you?" His eyes narrowed slightly as he spoke. You leaned back in your chair, a smug smile playing on your lips. “And you love watching,” you replied, your tone playful yet challenging.

His jaw tightened, a muscle twitching as he fought to maintain his calm demeanor. The room was enveloped in a tense silence, the kind that makes every breath feel loud. All eyes were fixed on the two of you, waiting to see what would happen next.

Chan, ever the master of composure, allowed a faint flicker of amusement to pass over his face for just a moment before he shifted back to his authoritative self. With a swift flick of his fingers, he signaled to two men standing like sentinels by the door. “Get him out of here,” he commanded.

The bodyguards moved with practiced efficiency, lifting the injured man to his feet without a word and dragging him toward the exit. Chan barely spared them a glance, his attention unwavering as he turned back to you. There was a glimmer in his eyes, a mix of amusement and intrigue that hadn't faded. “You.” His voice was firm, yet inviting, as he gestured toward the door. “Come with me.”

It wasn't a request. His voice carried the weight of authority, firm and unyielding. It wasn't a question. His eyes locked onto yours with unwavering intensity, leaving no room for negotiation. And yet—your lips curved into a subtle smile.

The heavy door clicked shut behind you with a soft thud that echoed in the quiet room. You stood frozen, your breath barely audible, while Chan remained equally still, his eyes fixed on yours. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, a tension palpable enough to slice through.

Then, Chan exhaled softly, a sound like a gentle breeze, and rolled his neck as if he were trying to dislodge the weight of the evening from his shoulders. "You're lucky I don't mind cleaning up your mess," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Mess?" you asked, your tone teasing. Chan chuckled quietly, a sound like distant thunder. "Come on, princess," he said, a hint of amusement in his eyes. He took a deliberate step forward, his shoes making a soft scuff against the floor.

"I let you do a lot of things," he continued, his voice calm yet firm. "But breaking noses in the middle of business meetings?" He took another measured step, closing the distance between you.

"That's pushing it," he added, his gaze unwavering, a mix of reprimand and admiration glinting in his eyes.

You hummed a low tune, remaining perfectly still, your eyes steady on his. "And yet, you let me do it," you said, your voice laced with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

Chan's lips curled into a smirk, his gaze unwavering. "I was curious," he replied, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes."About what?" you inquired, your heart beating a steady rhythm against your ribs.

Chan moved closer, reducing the already narrow space between you to a mere whisper. The air felt charged, like the tense calm before a storm unleashes its fury. "I wanted to see how far you'd go," he murmured, his eyes briefly flickering down to your knuckles, still raw and stained with dried blood.

You flexed your fingers, feeling the tightness in your skin, and tilted your head slightly. "Disappointed?" you asked, your voice carrying an edge of defiance. Chan's laughter was soft, a gentle rumble that seemed to echo in the charged silence. Then, in a voice so soft it was almost a sigh, he said, "Not at all."

The words floated between you like a whisper, yet their impact was profound, resonating through every fiber of your being.

Because this was the game you played with each other. The push and the pull, like a tide that never ceased. You tested him, throwing challenges his way, and he accepted them with a subtle nod, a glint in his eye. Deep down, Chan relished these tests, embracing the thrill of walking the fine line between control and chaos. He enjoyed the adrenaline rush, the challenge of it all. And he enjoyed you, the person who brought this daring side of him to life.

Your breath quivered ever so slightly, a tremor that betrayed the calm you tried to maintain. Chan noticed. His fingers, calloused from years of playing his guitar, moved deliberately but with a touch of hesitation. They reached for your hand, grazing your knuckles gently, brushing against the rough patches of skin that told stories of their own.

His voice dropped to a whisper, softer than you'd ever heard it, as he asked, “…Does it hurt?” The question hung in the air, not surprising in itself, but the way he asked it caught you off guard. His voice carried an unfamiliar tenderness, and his fingers lingered like a promise of comfort.

Because Bang Chan? He wasn't known for softness. But for you, he bent the rules, allowed a gentler side to surface. A breath escaped your lips, followed by a momentary pause as you absorbed the unexpected shift. Then, your lips curled into a smile, acknowledging the unspoken understanding between you.

"You tell me," you said, your words hanging in the air, charged with a palpable tension. It was as if the room itself held its breath, waiting for Chan's response. His eyes locked on yours, unblinking and unwavering. Time seemed to stretch between you, each second a weight pressing down.

And then, with a suddenness that left you breathless, he moved. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your throat with a swift precision, pinning you gently but firmly against the cool surface of the wall. It wasn’t a gesture of aggression but a silent assertion of control, a reminder of the power dynamics at play. His fingertips rested against the delicate skin of your neck, feeling the rapid flutter of your pulse beneath them.

A slow, dangerous smirk spread across his lips, the corners curling upward with an ease that belied the intensity of the moment. "You like pushing me too, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice a low rumble tinged with amusement. His breath brushed over your lips, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach, the proximity only heightening the tension.

In that charged moment, the air seemed to crackle with the authority he wielded effortlessly. And then, just as you braced for the inevitable clash, he kissed you. It was a deliberate, measured motion, a stark contrast to the chaotic fervor you had anticipated. His kiss was an exercise in control, calculated and commanding, as if every movement was part of a carefully orchestrated plan.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, seeking purchase, but Chan remained unyielding, dictating the pace with an unspoken resolve. His grip at your throat shifted slightly, his palm sliding down to rest against your collarbone, then gliding over your chest and along your waist—exploring, claiming territory with each touch. Your back met the wall with a jarring thud, but the sensation barely registered, overshadowed by the intensity of Chan's presence.

His other hand settled on your hip, fingers curling possessively, anchoring you to him. Your breaths came in shallow, quick succession, mirroring the rhythm of his own. Just as you attempted to assert your own tempo, to deepen the kiss and draw him closer, he withdrew slightly. His lips lingered against yours, a whisper of contact, his exhale hot against your skin.

"Be careful," he breathed, his voice a velvety warning that sent a shiver down your spine. Your eyes darted up to meet his, a mischievous smirk of your own forming. "Why?"

A quiet chuckle escaped him, a low sound that carried a hint of mockery. His lips traced a path from the corner of your jaw to your throat, then to your ear, each touch soft and deliberate, as if imparting a secret. "Because, sweetheart..." His hand tightened on your waist, a subtle reminder of the power he held. "You’re playing a game you won’t win."

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

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planetaryupscaled · 1 year ago

Text

Honeymoon 1: Guilty Pleasure

Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi

Tags: 8k, anal, cheating, creampie, oral, squirt

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

It’s hard to wake up in a more relaxing way than I just had. Lying on a soft comfortable bed in the bedroom of the expensive suite I was renting. The sounds of ocean waves crashing on the beach coming in through the open balcony door. Though the part best of all was the feeling of tight feminine lips wrapped around my dick as my cock was being blown.

I let out a moan as I opened my eyes, and I used pillows to sit up and look down my body. I was still naked from last night’s activities, and the sheets had been thrown aside. Down around my waist was also a naked body of a thin fit woman. I could see her cute nude ass, and she had legs crossed and kicked up in the air. She moved her red hair out of her face, it revealed her brown eyes, looking up at me. Though she continued to suck me, her stretched lips did seem to smile a bit when she noticed I was awake. She kept going for a few more seconds before releasing my pole from her mouth.

“Morning husband,” she said with a big smile, obviously enjoying getting to say those words. We had gotten married only two days ago, and now we were enjoying our honeymoon at an exclusive private resort. The hotel had many amenities, but the best of which was that its security kept photographers away and guests knew better than to take photos of others as they enjoyed their own privacy.

“I could really enjoy waking up every day like this.”

“I bet you could,” she said as her hands took over working my rod from her mouth. “I had to wake you up, and this seemed like the most fun way. You need to hurry up and finish though, we only have 30 minutes until they stop serving breakfast.”

“Or… we just call for room service, and then really enjoy ourselves in the shower while we wait for it to arrive.”

“See, that’s one of the reasons I love you. You always have such great ideas.” Yunjin than happily went back to sucking my cock. I had to remind her a few minutes later that I still had to order the food. She let my erection slip back out of her mouth and told me what she wanted for breakfast then headed to the in the shower to get ready for me. I called in the order and told them that there was no rush on the order since I was about to take a shower.

Walking into the bathroom I saw my new wife under the spray of water. “Babe, next time we sneak out and have sex on the beach we need to make sure and bring towels or a blanket or something. I still have sand in my hair from last night” Yunjin yelled over the sound of the shower. I just stood and watched as she twirled in the large shower stall letting the water rinse off the soap suds.

When she wiped the water from her eyes, she saw me standing against the wall watching her. Yunjin gave me a flirtatious look and bit her lip. She then stepped up and pressed her delicious tits up against the glass and gave me the come here signal with her finger. I quickly followed her command and got in the shower with her. She spun around to face me and we made out under the spay of the water. I moved her back as we kissed until she was up against the glass wall. Then I could not help myself but to bend down and take one of her nipples into my mouth. I was still obsessed with how perfect her tits were, and she loved how I loved her tits. I could go for a while playing with them, and playing with her, but she had already gotten me very worked up and we had food on the way, so I flipped her around. Knowing what was coming, Yunjin bent at the waist a bit and stuck out her ass as she braced herself up against the glass. Taking hold of her hips I pulled her back and push my hips forward. We both moaned in pleasure as my cock entered her. After all the sex we’d had since we’d been together, her pussy fit me like a glove.

“Oh god yes,” Yunjin said repeatedly as I pounded her from behind. Our bodies were in perfect sync, her pushing her ass back right as I pushed my hips forward causing the sounds of our sex echoed in the bathroom. When I knew she was getting close to her orgasm I moved my hand around to rub her clit until I finally felt the familiar feeling of her pussy clenching around my cock as she climaxed. As she came, I grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her body. With nothing else holding her up, Yunjin once again found herself with her tits pushed up against the glass. This time instead of silently motioning for me to join her, she was loudly moaning as I used her body. I kept hammering her from behind until I was all but about to cum. I let go of her arms and pulled out, thinking I’d just cum all over her ass this time, but my wife had other ideas. She spun around and dropped to her knees. Wrapping her lips around my cock, she pushed my hand away from my dick and took hold of it herself. She began jacking off my dick with her tongue probing the head of my dick, all the while her eyes looked up at me with a look that seemed to be pleading me to cum. I didn’t hold back and fired my load in her mouth, which like so many times before she happily accepted and swallowed.

“Well, I got my morning protein,” she joked when it was over.

“Ha, yeah… Oh, shit the room service.” I said as I jumped out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel. When I walked out of the bathroom, I saw that they had left a cart with our breakfast just inside the door. We had our breakfast, of course, Yunjin decided to have it naked and let her body air dry after she found out they already delivered the food. Afterward we got dressed and headed out to into the resort. We stopped in on a few of the shops and then walked along the beach. I’ll freely admit, we were totally acting like that couple you hate to be around. We had our arms wrapped tightly one another as we walked everywhere, there were tons of public displays of affection. I normally would have hated us for being that couple, but we were on our honeymoon and Yunjin was in a particularly lovey-dovey mood so I just went with it.

We were pretty much attached at the hip until mid-afternoon. We had dinner reservations tonight and Yunjin wanted to go to the salon for a mani/pedi. With time to myself, I hung out at the beach. The suite we were rented also came with a private cabana, so I relaxed and did some reading in there. After a little while, I got up and headed over to the bar to get myself a drink. As I approached the bar, I couldn't help but notice the blondie standing there ordering a drink. Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice her, I mean notice that really nice ass in her small bikini bottoms cut.

“Getting a good look?” I apparently had looked a little too long because the woman had looked around while waiting on her drink, and had caught me looking at her ass.

“I...um...shit, sorry.” I apologize as she looked at me through her big sunglasses. As she turned around fully, I couldn’t help but check out the rest of her. Compared to Yunjin, she had a whiter complexion, perky breast, a bigger ass, and she was about as tall barefoot as Yunjin was in heels. “I guess I should almost take it as a compliment that I can get the guy honeymooning with Yunjin to check me out.”

“You know who I am?” I asked as I leaned against the bar next to her.

“Of course. This resort isn’t that big, and security doesn’t stop guest them from gossiping like high schoolers.” It was not until she raised her sunglasses and I saw her eyes did I realize who it was I was talking to.

“Oh, Somi. wow.”

“So you know who I am too?” She asked flirtatiously.

“Of course, I’m a fan actually. I surprised Yunjin with tickets to your concert last summer.” Somi stayed and talked with me even after she had gotten her drink and I ordered two mojitos, We ended up both taking a seat at the bar and chatting even after my drink arrived.

“So what do you do, for work?”

“I work for advertising agency.”

“Huh? So what’s your connection to the entertainment industry?”

“None, unless you include Yunjin.”

“Hmmm.”

“What?” I asked she was obviously probing for some bit of information.

“It’s nothing. Just trying to figuring out what Yunjin sees in you.”

“Well fuck you too.”

Somi laughed. “I’m sorry that sounded bad. I mean you’re handsome and all, and in pretty good shape. If we meet at a bar and you started hitting on me, I sure wouldn’t stop you. It’s just that...well, generally we don’t end up with people outside the entertainment industry. When they do, it usually comes back to one of two reasons.”

“Oh yeah, what are those?” I asked curious to hear her theory.

“Well, one, is that they are rich, and I mean like really rich. So are you…”

“I mean I make decent money for a normal person, but no, I’m not from money and you probably made more from your last tour than I’ll make in the next several years.”

“Okay then,” she said with a very big smirk on her face before taking a sip of her drink.

“So?”

“So? So what?” She asked knowingly.

“What’s the second reason?”

“Well, let's just say…” She then put her hand on my thigh, “that they tend to have certain specific talents that women find irresistible,” she said in a hushed tone.

“Ummm...wellll…I mean, I don’t know, I… well I know Yunjin is always more than satisfied with the job I do.”

“I bet.” Somi was now rubbing my thigh. “Any chance I can take a peek at what she’s been enjoying?”

“Gezz” the word slipped out of my mouth before my brain could react. I lifted up my hand with my ring on it. “Look I’m flattered but I’m married remember? As extremely tempting an offer as that might be, I really can’t.”

“Come on. Come back to my cabana, I’ll even give you a peek at what’s under my bathing suit first if you promise to show me what’s under yours. She doesn’t ever have to know” Somi whispered into my ear in a sultry voice. I hadn’t noticed until just now how close she had moved her chair to mine.

“Are you serious?”

“Come on, I know you want me. I know you think I’m hot. Maybe even a little hotter than your wife.”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You can put something in my mouth if you want.”

“I...umm...look, another time, another life, I would have happily mounted you right on this bar and spend hours going to town on you, but as I said I am happily married.”

“Okay,” Somi said as she got up from her chair. “If you change your mind or just want to get out of the sun, I’ll be in cabana number 5.”

“I have a cabana of my own, but thanks.” Somi gave my thigh a squeeze before walking back to her cabana, and I couldn’t help but watch her ass as she walked away. And I am pretty sure she knew it too. When she was gone from view I sighed and finished off my second mojito. I then texted Yunjin to see when she was going to be finished. I was hoping soon, so I could meet her back up in our room and plow the hell out of her.

Unfortunately, she said she had decided to also get her hair done and wouldn’t be back to our room for another hour or so. I sat at the bar to collect my thoughts while trying cool off a bit, and then I paid my bill. The bartender, who had obviously been listening to me and Somi, gave me a look like I was crazy as I paid and left.

I took a quick dip into the ocean before heading back to my cabana. I thought for a quick second about heading to find Somi’s cabana but I knew I shouldn’t. As I approached my cabana, I seemed a little odd that the privacy flaps were closed. I just assumed that someone from the hotel staff closed them because it was unattended and I had left some stuff in there.

“Oh hey,” I heard a female voice casually say as I passed through the curtains.

“Ho-ly shit.”

“I guess I accidentally mixed up which cabana was mine,” Somi said as she laid on the patio couch in front of me. Resting against her elbow with her torso facing me. With the two pieces of her bikini crumbled into a ball on the coffee table, she was giving me an amazing view of her naked body. The hottest part about it was Somi had her legs split at almost a perfect 90-degree angle with one resting on the on the couch and the other pointing straight up in the air. I was speechless. I have no clue for how long or how many times my eyes scanned up and down her naked body. From her long perfect legs to her pussy with just a slight landing strip, to her tight toned stomach, to her perky b-cups with thick hard nipples just begging to be sucked and nibbled on, and finally up to her pretty face and mesmerizing eyes.

“Well, I guess you have seen me now,” she said as she slowly lowered her leg and used her free arm to rub and emphasize parts of her body, “It would only be fair you give me a peak now.”

“Okay,” I unconsciously agreed. I knew it was wrong, I was married, I was on my honeymoon, but she had me under her spell. I had been able to avoid earlier temptation since me and Yunjin had become official, including several attempts, last time being just a month before the wedding. This time, I just couldn’t say no. I moved the coffee table out of the way as I approached her, and then stood right in front of her face.

“Just so we’re clear,” I said as I undid the drawstring to my board shorts, “we’re not going to have sex.” I was hoping to keep some control over the situation and set up some boundaries.

“That’s fine,” she agreed. I then dropped my shorts and my hard cock sprang forward right in front of her face.

“Hmm, not bad. I’ve had bigger, but you still have a very nice cock.” She reached over and took hold of my shaft.

“Thanks,” I said as she slowly stroked me.

“By the way,” she looked up at me with her brown eyes and said, “oral doesn’t count.” Her eyes dropped back to my dick and she leaned forward. She gave my cock head a very sensual kiss, then stuck out her tongue and flicked it a few times against my tip. Any thought of leaving left my mind as soon as she closed her lips around my dick and began sliding more and more of me into her mouth.

“Oh fuck” I groaned as I rested one hand on the back of her head and she sucked me with earnest. My eyes were focused on her and her face until I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Looking down the couch I saw her legs squirming as she used her off-hand to play with herself. God watching her play with herself, I wanted to do more.

“Fuck it, stand up,” I said as I took a step back, my cock slipping from her mouth.

“What? Why?”

“Just stand up and get off the couch.” She had a confused and upset look on her face as she got off the couch. Once she was off, I got on the couch and laid flat on my back. “If we’re going to do this, and oral doesn’t count, then we're going to do it right,” I told her and Somi’s face quickly went from frustrated to smiling. She quickly got on the couch, straddling my face before bending down over my cock. As she opened her mouth and lowered it around my dick, she also lowered her crotch onto my face. Soon we were in a full-blown 69 on the couch. The two of us loudly moaned without mouths full while we serviced each other.

My mouth moved around between lapping up her pussy to teasing her clit, all the while my hands had a firm grasp on her tight ass. As we continued, Somi continued to squirm around on top of me as she deep-throated me. While she humped my face, I occasionally had to move my hands around, and at one point I found one of my fingers resting on the outside of her anus. I did not realize it as I was too focused on my task of getting the gorgeous woman to cum, but Somi obvious felt it. She quickly sat up.

“Yes, do it!” She yelled. I tried to ask what she was talking about, but my voice was muffled by her continuing to sit on my face. She still seems to understand me though. “Your finger, stick in my ass,” she pleaded. It was then I realized where my index finger rested. Instead of giving her exactly what she wanted I took my finger away and shoved it and my middle finger into her pussy. I fingered her hard for 30 seconds, getting my fingers nice and wet, then pulled them from her pussy and drove my index finger into her ass.

“Uggghhhh yyessss!” She moaned as I began fingering her ass. She enjoyed my tongue on her clip and her finger in her ass before she went back down to sucking my cock. I could feel Somi moaning more and more around my cock until I felt her ass tighten around my finger and pussy gush on my face. Even after she came, she continued to suck my cock as I continued to tongue her pussy. We kept going until I could finally feel my impending orgasm approaching. I wanted to warn her but with my mouth still buried in her cunt, speaking was difficult. Instead, I used a free hand to give her ass two hard slaps. Somi moaned in response, but she also lifted her ass up a bit, anticipating another slap. With my mouth now free I told her what was coming. Somi quickly got off me and the couch and went to her knees on the ground.

“Quick stand up,” she told me, “I want you to watch. I want you to watch as you cover me in your cum.” I got up and stood in front her. She used both hands to jerk me off, staring up at me the entire time with a big dirty smile.'

“Oh fuck, uugggghhhh” I said as I came. Somi closed her eyes and stuck out her tongue as jets of cum continued to shoot out my dick. You would have thought it’d been days not hours since the last time I got off. When it was over Somi had streaks of my cum running down her face and breasts.

“Holy… wow,” I said when it was all over.

“Wow is right. You can eat pussy like that and your dick is still hard? No wonder Yunjin married you.” Looking down, Somi was still holding my shaft with one hand and I was still almost totally hard. “You sure about that no sex thing? I promise you, I’m worth it.”

I quickly declined, got dressed and left the cabana as soon as I could. I had no doubt that Somi was ‘worth it’ and given any time she would have gotten me to comply. As I headed back to our room, I texted Yunjin and said she would meet me up there in 10 minutes. Thanked god that I would beat her back to the room. As soon I was in, I tossed off my clothes and got into the shower to try and rub off any scent of Somi that might be on me. I made real sure to wash my face and to wash my fingers as well.

“Oh, is that for me?” Looking at the bathroom doorway I saw Yunjin standing there in her sundress. She had come back sooner than I thought, or maybe I was just taking a longer shower than I realized. The thing she was referring to, was, of course, the boner I was still sporting. Even as I showered to tried to get the smell of Somi off me, my mind could not help but think about what would have happened if I stayed and everything I would have done to her.

“Of course it is,” I lied. “Why don’t you take off that dress and come in here so I can give it to you?”

“I’d love to, but I just got my hair done and I want it to last this way at least until after dinner. When you’re done in there meet me out on the balcony.”

“Okay,” I agreed. Once she left, I gave myself one more quick scrub down with some of her scented soap. When I finished, I dried off, wrapped myself in a towel and headed out to the balcony. Yunjin was sitting in one of the chairs looking out at the ocean. She was sipping on a drink she made for herself and she had also used the mini bar to make me a rum and coke. I came up behind her and then bent down to give her a kiss. She kissed me back, and as we kissed, she playfully gave my towel a yank causing to fall off. We were high enough up that I didn’t have to worry about anyone looking up and seeing me nude. As we broke our kiss Yunjin ’s eyes looked down to my crotch and then back up to my eyes.

“Take a seat and just remember to not mess up my hair,” she told me. I sat down on the other chair as she got up. She took the pillow from the chair and tossed it to the ground at my feet. Knowing where this was going, I spread my legs as Yunjin dropped to her knees on top of the pillow.

“I love you,” she told me before proceeding to give me a blowjob on the hotel balcony. I told her I love her back as she slid her mouth all the way down my tool. As I sat there getting my shaft blown by Yunjin while I looked out at the ocean at a fancy tropical resort, I thought that I must have been crazy earlier to put any of this jeopardy. This was all I ever wanted for a long time and to put it at risk, even for someone like Somi, was madness. I then just sat back and enjoyed as my wife gave my balls a tongue bath and then went back to deep-throating me. Once I was set to blow Yunjin was once again all too happy to take my load in her mouth. Unlike this morning, she collected it all in her mouth and one I was done cumming she opened her mouth and swished her tongue around, showing me my load before swallowing.

Once that was over, she gave my cock another once over with her tongue, then returned to her seat. We drank and talked and watched the sunset over the water. She told me about what she was up to when at the salon, and I told her about hanging out at the beach. While I wasn’t sure it was the right move at the time, I told Yunjin that I had met Somi at the bar at the beach and that I talked to her for a bit. In my head, I thought if we ever ran into Somi it would be a lot easier to just act as we had met and nothing happened than for Yunjin to find out I had met Somi and for some reason never told her about it. Yunjin said she wished she was there when I meet Somi and that she was going to keep an eye out for her at the resort. Just like that, the topic of Somi was over. Yunjin got out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the sunset and then insisted we take some selfies in front of it. I quickly put a shirt and shorts on then came back out and let Yunjin pose me however she wanted for a bunch of pictures.

After the sun had set, we got ready for dinner. We were set to have dinner at the upscale restaurant at the resort. I put on a light-weight suit with a white shirt and no tie, leaving the top two buttons undone. Yunjin dressed in a light flowy blue dress that shows off her legs and cleavage, and a pair of scrappy knee-high peep-toe boots. When we got to the restaurant it was still nice out so we told the hostess to give us a seat outside. Yunjin asked her to also take a picture of us together before we took out seats. She was nice enough to take a few of us, Yunjin hugging tightly up against me in each one. Eventually, we sat down and began looking over the menu. We were seated for a few minutes when all of a sudden Yunjin called.

“Oh, Somi!” Yunjin was looking past me and waving at someone. “Babe look, it’s Somi,” Yunjin said. I turned around, and walking towards us next to the hostess was Somi. She had a big smile and was waving back at Yunjin . Somi was wearing a short white dress with black heels.

“Oh my god, hi,” Somi said as she came over to our table. Yunjin got up and the two women hugged. “Congratulations on getting married!”

“Thank you, I was hoping I would run into you after my husband said he met you today.”

“Oh, he told you about that?” Somi looked at me with her eyebrow raised.

“Yup. Just about how we met at the bar and talked a bit,” I said making sure Somi knew the story I told.

“So, who are you here with?” Yunjin asked.

“Oh, no one. I’m just here alone on vacation. Wanted to get away while I had time between projects.”

“That’s nice, but you shouldn't have to eat alone. Why don’t you join us?”

“Really? You don’t mind?” Yunjin insisted. I in the meanwhile did not like how this was going. More to the point, I didn’t know if Somi was just here just by coincidence or if it was to tease me. The hostess moved the three of us over to a larger table. Yunjin sat across the table from me and Somi sat between us. We ordered drinks first, with a bottle of wine to come when our food arrived.

“So how was the wedding?” Somi asked.

“Oh my god, it was amazing!” Yunjin pulled out her phone and began showing off some of the pictures and telling her about the details. The two were totally engrossed in details and went back and forth for a while.

“Wow sounds like it was perfect,” Somi said.

“Well, it had a few bumps,” I finally said.

“What bumps? My sister?” Yunjin asked knowing what I was talking about. “It wasn’t that bad, and it was a little funny.”

“I still say she did it on purpose. She may deny it, and you may not believe it, but I’m telling you that she hates being in your shadow.”

“Wait, what are you two talking about,” Somi spoke up.

“Yejin gave the singer of the band at our wedding a blowjob in the bathroom, and about halfway through his mic came on,” I explained. “Suddenly through the speakers, we could hear his heaving breathing her slurping on his dick. It took five minutes before anyone knew what the sound was or where it was coming from.” Somi burst out laughing, and I also couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“Well at least the singer enjoyed himself at the wedding” Somi laughed

“Not as much as a couple of my husband’s groomsmen did,” Yunjin said.

“I still don’t get why you invited Ning to the wedding,” I said.

“Because I didn’t think she’d actually accept, and I wanted to rub my wedding in that bitch’s face” Yunjin replayed.

“Ning?” Somi questioned.

“Ning Yizhuo.”

“Oh, this must be good. I gotta hear this.”

“She fucked three of his groomsmen,” Yunjin said bluntly.

“Bullshit!” Somi yelled.

“Yep,” I told her. I took out my phone, opened a group chat, and handed it over to Somi. “Just scroll down and you’ll see the photos.”

“Oh wow,” Somi said as she scrolled.

“Yup two different guys during the wedding, and then all 3 in a hotel room afterward.”

“I still don’t get why she thought I’d care about her having sex with them. But she definitely made their night.”

“Wait, I thought you said she took 3 guys back to the hotel room, I only see two,” Somi said as she scrolled through the pictures.

“Third guy is taking the picture,” I told her.

“Right, that makes sense,” Somi asked if I had any photos of the wedding and I told her yes and where to find them. In general, it was all a very normal time. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was Yunjin was drinking a little more than usual. By the time our dinner and the wine arrived both women were on their third sex on the beaches.

“So how did you guys meet,” Somi asked. I knew Yunjin enjoyed telling the story, but it was also an edited version of the story that she liked to tell.

“Well, we went to the same gym and would see each other around, but never talked to one another. Then one night when I was leaving my car wouldn’t start, and he happens to be leaving as well and helped me out. He drove me home that night, drove me back the next day, and helped me find a good mechanic.” She left out the part where I asked her to flash me her tits as repayment for the ride and we ended up having sex in my car.

“Then for the next few months, we hung out a bit.” We were somewhere between friends with benefits and booty calls who’d occasionally grab dinner or see a movie together. “Then one morning something happened, we started fighting and both finally admitted we had real feelings for one another.” What happened was I ran into her sister at a club one night, we got drunk and ended up hooking. Yunjin found us both passed out naked on a lounge chair by her pool, my morning wood still inside her sister. “And ever since then, we’ve been together and totally in love.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.”

“Yeah, it is,” Yunjin said looking my way and rubbing her foot along my leg under the table. Dinner continued and by the time we finished eating Yunjin was drunk. She continued to rub against my leg periodically. Twice she fully pressed her foot up against my crotch. After our plates were taken away Somi ordered chocolate lava cake and a bottle of champagne,

“Oh one more thing,” she told the waitress “charge the whole dinner to my room.” The waitress nodded and walked back to the kitchen.

“Somi, you didn’t have to do that,” I said.

“It’s nothing, consider it a wedding gift.”

“That’s so sweet,” Yunjin said.

“I gotta tell you, Yunjin , I didn’t earlier, but I am starting to get why you married him.”

“What’s not to like? He’s handsome, he’s supportive, he’s funny, and the sex is great.”

“Yunjin!” I objected, but she and Somi just laughed.

“What, I’m not telling her anything I haven’t already told my friends,” Yunjin explained.

“So you’ve been enjoying your honeymoon,” Somi asked Yunjin.

“Oh yeah,” Yunjin gulped the rest of her wine. “Some guy’s brag about being able to go all night and whatever, but he really can. Ever since he got past the ‘oh wow I’m banging a celebrity’ phase, you know what I’m talking about?” Somi nodded in response. “Well, ever since then it’s been so good. Not that it wasn’t good before, but after, WOW.” Yunjin started to giggle.

“Well, that’s nice to know.” Somi placed her hand on my thigh. “You two really do seem to be in love though.”

“We are.” Yunjin reached across the table and took hold of my hand. “I’m so comfortable and trusting of him. I gotta tell you if he were some of the other exes, I’d be totally threatened by you. You are exactly his type,” Yunjin told Somi.

“I don’t have a type” I disagreed.

“Are you kidding? The first time I met your mom, she said I was so your type, but then she showed me pictures of some of his exes. All of them have those slender athletic bodies, boobs between a ‘B’ and a ‘C’, and don’t forget their big ass.”

“It does sound like you have a type.” Somi looked at me. Under the table, however, she had moved her hand up my thigh. I was about to say something, but Somi pulled back as a server arrived with our dessert and champagne.

“Look, I should at least let you two have desert alone,” Somi said as she stood up from the table. Yunjin told her that she didn’t need to leave, but Somi said it’s fine.

Just she’s about to left, she said “I hope to see you again soon,” all the while looking right at me. Yunjin didn’t notice this, but I did. The two of us ate desert alone, and when we finished, we headed back up to our room. I told Yunjin to bring the bottle of champagne with us since we both only had a single glass and it was already paid for.

After dinner, Yunjin was very drunk and very horny. We made out passionately in the elevator. By the time we got to our floor, Yunjin had her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist. I carried her that way down the hallway to our room. I had to stop kissing Yunjin so I could see where I was going, so she started kissing biting my neck. She seemed very intent on giving me a series of hickies.

When we got to our room, I put her down and we quickly left a trail of clothing to the bedroom. Once we reached it, I was naked and Yunjin was left in nothing but her boots. She stood there still hold the champagne bottle. I took the bottle from her and I began pouring some of it down her chest. I did my best to drink it off her as I poured. Sucking it off her tits, chest, and stomach.

I then gently pushed her so she fell backward onto the bed, her legs still hanging off the edge. I filled her belly button with champagne, did a body shot off her, and then repeated the process a few times. When I was satisfied, I dropped down to my knees on the floor in front of the bed and poured the rest of the champagne all over my wife’s pristine pussy. Yunjin moaned loudly and wrapped her legs around my neck as I began lapping up her cunt. When I could taste not more champagne, I spread apart her lips and buried my tongue into her pussy.

I have loved eating her out, and I loved listening to the moans she makes when I do it. Since that day I had learned a lot tricks of her body and knew what she liked and when she liked it. I knew when was the right moment to move up to her clit and to suck on it, when to flick it with my tongue, when to rub her clit and when to finger her, and on a rare occasion when she wanted her nipples tweaked. That’s how five minutes after first sticking my tongue into her, I was now working towards her second orgasm.

I had my lips on her clit while I used two fingers to finger her. I had Yunjin holding her legs up to her torso, keeping her thighs wide apart. Between the booze and the bliss, Yunjin was lost in her own little world. I sucked on and flicked her clit while I finger blasted her. I could hear her moans quickening. I knew she was getting close. I moved my mouth away and placed my thumb up against her clit. I then used my arm as a jackhammer as I fingered her. I soon had her cumming, but I didn’t slow down. I kept on going. The room filled with the sound of wet skin slapping as my hand and her pussy was now covered in her juices. I knew I was getting close and a minute later my wife screamed and began squirting like a fire hydrant. Yunjin rarely ever squirted, but when she was drunk and really, really horny it was possible. When it was over I took my hand away and stood up over Yunjin.

“Fuck me, seriously?” I said as I looked upon Yunjin naked, well pleased, body. I had apparently done too good of a job because she had passed out on the bed. Knowing from experience she was not going to wake up until morning. I now stood at the end of the bed with a cock as hard as steel, and nowhere to put it. I mean I could just go ahead and have sex with her anyway. We’d both had sex with the other before while the other was asleep or passed out, and with little guilt at all. However, something about doing it to my wife on our honeymoon didn’t feel right. I decided to just call it a night and take care of myself, but first I had to tuck Yunjin into bed. I took off her boots and then picked her up and slipped her under her covers. When she was safely settled, I put two bottles of water and some Excedrin on her nightstand, I then went over to the couch, opened my laptop, and started to type in one of my favorite free video sites.

As the site loaded, I suddenly heard a text on my phone. I had no clue who could be texting me. It was 1 AM, When I opened the message it was pictures of two fingers holding open pussy lips of a pussy I recognize really well from my up close view this past afternoon. It also came with a note that read “in case you’re interested in a midnight snack” along with her room number. The name of the saved contact was ‘Beach Buddy’.

I quickly texted back “When did you save your number to my phone?” She quickly texted back three messages.

“Wow, that was a fast response. What happens to can go all night? Also, you should really pay more attention to your phone when you hand it to strangers.”

I knew I shouldn’t respond. Between the picture, I was sent and the memory of this afternoon, I had more than enough material to get me off before bed. I knew this in my head, but it wasn’t the head on my shoulders that was doing the thinking at the moment. I texted back, “She said I could last all night, she never said that she could.”

“Aww, poor baby. Why don’t you come up and we can talk about it? Or… if you don’t want to talk, I’m sure we can find something else to do.” I thought about texting her back, but I knew there was no point. The moment I answered her text I knew how this was going to end. I took my phone, slipped on some shoes, put on some gym shorts and a t-shirt. I made my way to the room number I had been given and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute and the door finally opened.

“You win. Let’s do this” I said as I pushed past her and entered the room.

“You could sound a little more excited,” Somi said as she closed and locked the door. She had her hair down and appeared to only be wearing a pink silk robe. “I mean…” I didn’t let her finish. I pulled her to me and slipped my tongue into her mouth. After momentarily being caught surprised by my action, Somi started kissing me back. I pinned her against the wall and we continued to make out, my hands roamed all over her body. Somi began lifting my shirt and we broke off our kissing.

“Am I excited enough for you now?” I asked as I took off my shirt and pressed up against her a little more, making sure she could feel my hard cock against her. Somi gave a dirty little giggle as she felt me against her.

“Oh, those are new,” Somi said as she could now see the marks Yunjin left along my neck.

“Yeah, Yunjin can be a little aggressive when she drinks, though I think she’ll be as surprised as you are in when she wakes up in the morning.”

“Really, she’s that out?”

“Oh yeah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her that drunk.”

“Good, then she’ll never know if I give you a few of my own.” She raised up and began biting and sucking on the side of my neck, meanwhile I slipped my hand under her robe and found her wet pussy. Somehow her pussy felt even smoother than it had just hours earlier on the beach.

“We should take this to the bedroom,” she seductively whispered into my ear when she was satisfied with the work she had done to my neck. I eagerly agreed and stepped back and let her lead the way. She took a couple of steps then stopped and looked back over her shoulder at me. I then watched as her rope slowly slipped off her shoulders before falling to the floor. I almost began to drool as the ass that first got me to notice her at the bar was now on full display for me. Somi laughed as she saw the pure lust in my eyes and then ran off to the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants as I chased after her. When I got there, I saw her smiling brightly as she sprawled out on the bed. As I looked up her long shapely legs, I noticed something different between her legs.

“You shaved,” I said as I crawled onto the bed. Her landing strip from earlier today was now gone.

“I hoping tonight would be a special night. Care to see how it feels...with your tongue?” she asked.

“Normally I’d love to, but I’ve had enough foreplay today.” Remembering how she looked when I first saw her in that cabana, I knew exactly how I wanted her. I picked up one of her legs and lifted it straight up into her air as I moved in between her legs. Taking my cock, I rubbed it against her already wet and freshly shaved cunt. Once my dick was nice and wet, I pushed forward. Somi moaned and her eyes rolled back as she felt my cock head pierce her. I slid all the way inside and enjoyed the feeling of her tight warm pussy around my cock. Her pussy felt different but just as good as Yunjin. I soon slowly started to build up tempo.

“Ummmm….yyyeeeessss… give it to me. Harder,” Somi pleaded. I was not there for slow sensual love-making like what me and Yunjin had done the night prior. I was there to fuck and Somi wanted me there to get fucked. As a result, I soon had the bed shaking as I pounded her pussy with my cock. I still had one of Somi’s legs pressed up against my chest, pointed straight up as I banged her and looked down at her.

“Tell me you want me,” Somi begged.

“I want you.”

“Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“I want to fuck you so hard that at worst you will have problems walking tomorrow, and at best you end up shattering your pelvis.”

“Fuck!” she called out. Looking down at her, I found my eyes locked on her breast, glistening with sweat, and her hard nipples. They looked so tempting, I couldn’t resist anymore. Moving her leg down I sat with my legs out and pulled her on top of me. Somi wrapped her arms and legs around me and I lowered my head to her chest. Now in the lotus position, we continued to fuck as my mouth toyed with her nipple. Somi was loving it. She pressed my head firmly against her tits as she bounced on my lap, only ever loosening her grip on my head as I switched from the right one to the left and vice versa.

“I’m so close,” she moaned. “Lay back, let me take over.” I did what she asked and laid down on the bed. She put her hand on my chest, leaned forward and let the hips do the rest. Those years of performing on stage had really done her well as she moves her hips quickly. Her moans and breath quickened I knew she was getting close, I put my hands on her hips as she rode me until she finally came all over my cock. As she came, I pulled her hips all the way down. With my dick all the way buried in orgasming Somi, I let go myself and shot my load deep into her.

“Oh wow,” Somi moaned as she dropped to my chest. I took a minute to catch my breath and then rolled us over. I was still hard inside Somi and ready to go again. With Somi on her back, I moved to my knees again and put the gorgeous woman legs on my shoulders.

“Gawd, Yunjin wasn’t lying about you, was she,” Somi said as I began pounding her again.

“Nah-uh, we’ve just gotten started,” I told her as my cock pumped in and out of her. My previous load now leaking out of her as I fucked her. We fucked like this for a while longer. She came again as I rubbed her clit and she played with her nipples as we fucked. I knew I was getting close again, but I still had time.

“Roll over, I wanna do it from behind,” Somi happily obliged. She made some comment about how all guys want to with her, but I wasn’t really listening. I was watching as she rolled over and instead if getting on all fours, she moved to the top of the bed and grabbed the headboard and stuck out her ass. I quickly moved in behind her and slammed my dick back into her. I loved watching her ass jiggle as we fucked.

“Remember earlier,” Somi said through gritted teeth as she looked back at me, “My ass. Stick your finger in my ass.” I gave my finger a long suck, I could still taste Yunjin on it, making it nice and wet.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Somi yelled as I fucked and fingered her ass. “You can fuck my ass you know. I got lube in the nightstand. You can stick your big, hard, married cock in my ass. When was the last time Yunjin let you do that?” I gave Somi’s ass a hard slap for insulting Yunjin, and because an ass like hers is hard not to spank.

“The morning after our wedding actually. Right before we had brunch with her parents and friends. As for the lube, we won’t need that.” I kept pounding her. Somi’s ass quivered as she climaxed once again. As I felt my cum rising from my balls, I pulled out of the Fast Forward singer. With one hand pumping my cock, I used the other to spread her ass cheeks. With my dick pointed at the target, I came all over her puckered asshole.

When I finished cumming I did not waste much time. I used my cock to spread my cum all over her asshole before I started to push the head into her puckered hole. Somi let out a loud groan as my cock head slipped in and then moaned as she pushed back, letting more and more of my shaft into her. I began banging her in the ass, though at a slower pace than before. At first, just to loosen her up a bit, but after a little while, it was just because I was physically exhausted. My cock and head were willing, but my body just couldn’t keep up with the fucking I had given Somi before. Even still we went at it for a few minutes. I gave her tight ass a few more smacks. I could see my red handprint starting to show up on her.

Feeling me slowing down Somi once again decided to take command of the situation. Again having me lay flat on my back, she then got something from her nightstand before mounting me reverse cowgirl. I watched as she pointed my cock towards the ceiling and then lowered her ass down. Somi looked back at me as she started bouncing her ass on my cock. I then heard the sound of something vibrating and Somi began crying out louder than ever. She had pulled out her vibrator and was using it to toy with her clit as she fucked her as with my hard-on. Somi came two more times before I finally painted her colon with my third load of the night.

When it was over I stayed down on the bed and caught my breath. Somi got down and cuddled up next to me. We stayed like this in silence for about 10 minutes. I knew what I had just done was wrong, and Yunjin would be devastated if she ever found out, but damn I would have done it all over again. Yunjin was right, Somi was my very much my type and she was also a hell of a fuck.

Looking over at the clock it was now getting to be early morning and I knew I had to leave. I told Somi I needed to use her shower. I turned on the water and began to soap up when Somi, still naked, walked into the bathroom with my clothes and put them on the counter. Instead of then heading back to bed, she then opened the shower door and got in with me. She stood behind me and washed my back. I could feel her breast press into my back, as she began reaching around washing my cock. Soon enough she had me hard again and she blew me once again until I came all over her face. She then said goodbye and went to bed. I finished up in her shower, got dressed, and snuck back to my room. It was passed 6:30 am when I got back to my room. Thankfully Yunjin was still passed out and looked like she had hardly moved since I tucked her in. I then stripped off my clothes, got back into my honeymoon bed and wrapped myself around my wife, before drifting off into a deep well-needed sleep.

#yunjin smut #somi smut #le sserafim smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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luveline · 1 year ago

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hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33

love you!!! fem!reader

“You’ve always had terrible posture.”

“What?” Spencer asks.

You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.”

He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet.

“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest.

You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath.

“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…”

He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish.

“Does that sound okay?” you ask.

He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.”

“I love you.”

He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.”

“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly.

“I’m fine.”

You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.”

You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop.

Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine.

He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all.

After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel.

“Don’t sit so far away,” he says.

“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.”

He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology.

You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers.

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.”

“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.”

“It’s not like that,” he insists.

“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.”

He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.”

He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line.

Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again.

“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.”

“I always mean it,” he says honestly.

For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be.

“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.”

He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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covenofagatha · 5 months ago

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alright alright i’m thinking dub!con modern/nonmagic au.. into something rough and/or bondage. we love the age gap. i’m leaving a lot of holes lmfao i will talk shop if you want specifics baby

finally finished omg

hope everyone enjoys

title is from Chains by Nick Jonas cause why not

Chains for your love

When you're house sitting for your neighbors Agatha and Rio, you decide to throw a party and they are not happy when they find out

Word count: 3400

Warnings: dubcon, smut, rough sex, bondage (handcuffs), vibrators, fingering, spanking, choking, threesome, might be missing one or two sorry if so, age gap (all legal)

Your neighbors would kill you if they found out what you were doing right now.

Agatha and Rio, the couple next door, had asked you to house sit for them while they were on vacation to Cabo for a week as a favor to your mom.

You had just graduated from high school and she said, and you quote, “you need to get your lazy butt off the couch and do something with your life or so help me.”

So when Agatha mentioned to her that they were leaving for a while, your mom had thrown you under the bus.

You didn’t know much about your neighbors, only that they were two smoking hot older women who were kind of crazy. You had also barely ever interacted with them, always at school or doing homework when they came over to have lunch with your mom.

Agatha is about ten years older than her wife, with long dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. Her fashion sense is always on point and her veiny hands do things to you.

Rio, while pale and a brunette as well, is tall and lean, and very intense. Her hazel eyes bore into you whenever you’d come downstairs to get a glass of water, like she knew something that you didn’t. When she looks at you like that, you can’t help but squirm and wonder if you did something wrong. And yet, for some reason, you find it hot.

All you had to do while they were gone was stop by, water their plants, collect their mail, and make sure their house was in order.

Which you did, perfectly, you might add.

It just so happened that on the last night of house sitting, you were supposed to go to a party at your friend’s house to celebrate the end of senior year, but her parents came home early so she needed to move it.

And you had the brilliant idea to use the giant, empty house at your disposal.

Cue the music, lights, and drinks.

“This is so nice of your neighbors to let us use their house!” Your best friend Wanda yells at you.

You laugh, pretending not to have heard her over the bass, because they certainly did not.

In fact, you think, you think they would be quite opposed to it.

Agatha and Rio were quiet people; they didn’t like mess, especially in their house.

And this here, with Jimmy Woo throwing up in the bathroom and Natasha Romanoff knocking over a bottle of beer on the ground and two people making out in the pool, was as messy as it could get.

You’re on your second wine cooler, feeling it start to hit, and you stumble around the living room, trying to assess the damage before the party is even over.

It may have gotten more out of hand than you were intending it to. When you had told your mom what you were doing, you had mentioned having a few people over for pizza, and she had said that if it got out of hand, or if she heard about even one thing being out of place when Agatha and Rio got back, she would, and you quote, “ground your butt until you graduated from college.”

You almost pointed out the irony of her wanting you to do something, but the moment you were going to, she threatened to not let you do anything for the next four years, but decided against it.

“Here!” A bottle of beer is pressed into your hand and you turn to find Darcy Lewis standing there. Even though you shouldn’t, you take a swig and Wanda leaves to go find her boyfriend. “Cool party!”

“Thanks!” You shout back and she giggles before taking your hand and leading you into the kitchen, where it’s a little quieter. You haven’t talked to Darcy that much, but she was in two of your classes and you know she’s going to MIT.

“Got any summer plans?” She asks but she slurs the words. You laugh like it’s the funniest thing ever. “What?”

You point at her, almost doubling over. “You’re so drunk!”

She looks scandalized for a second, raises her hand to fix her glasses, and then becomes hysterical too. “So are you!”

The next thing you know, Darcy and you are kissing.

You’re not sure who started it, but her mouth is against yours and your tongue is in her mouth.

You pull back, there’s some eye contact, and then the two of you crack up again and she goes outside to the patio.

Drunken makeout accomplished and your head sufficiently spinning from the two and a half drinks now, you make it a mission to start cleaning up.

You’ve collected half a trash bag full of cans when people start pouring out of the house, telling you to “stay in touch!” and “have fun at college!” and then it’s just you in the house.

There’s still a lot to clean up, but you’re tired and sloshed, so you set an alarm on your phone for six in the morning so you can get up and tidy up the rest before Agatha and Rio get home.

You pass out on the couch immediately.

Which turns out to be a huge mistake, because when you finally wake up in the morning, your neighbors are sitting in the chairs across from the coffee table, both wearing matching displeased looks.

You shoot up, scrambling into a sitting position, heart pounding. “What–” You furiously tap your phone to find out why the alarm didn’t go off, but it doesn’t turn on.

Of course it died.

Rio chuckles, leaning back and crossing a leg over the other, amused with your panic. “Care to explain what happened here last night, doll?”

Your cheeks redden and you try to think of something that won’t get you in trouble because it seems like you are fucked. “I had some friends over,” you say, and it sounds pathetic even to your ears.

Agatha tuts and rests her elbows on her knees. “‘Some friends?’ Angel, have you seen what our house looks like?”

You gulp and take a look around, dread sinking deeper into your stomach. The pieces of glass that no one picked up. All the cans and bottles you missed. A sweatshirt thrown onto the floor. Pizza crusts and plates scattered across the furniture.

“I was going to clean it up, I swear,” you say, your throat suddenly really dry.

“Oh, and,” Rio says, so cheerful for no reason. You can only imagine what she’s going to say, but she takes out her phone and taps the screen. You raise an eyebrow and she turns it to you.

At first, you’re not really sure what you’re looking at, but then it becomes clear.

It’s a recording of you and Darcy making out in their kitchen, the angle from somewhere on the counter.

You lurch back on the couch. “You were spying on me?” You hiss, feeling violated.

Agatha rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Please, darling, this is our house, we can do whatever we want in it. Plus, we weren’t sure if we could trust such an immature, young thing like you and clearly, we couldn’t.”

The jab about your age makes you angry. “I’m not that young and I’m not immature!” You say indignantly.

“Making out like a slut with the first girl who gives you attention while drunk at a lame high school party?” Rio taunts, standing up and sliding next to you on the couch. You feel the pit in your stomach grow when Agatha does the same on the other side. You’re not sure who to look at. “Seems like something a childish brat would do.”

“And now, we think there should be consequences,” Agatha coos, hand coming to brush a piece of your hair back behind your ear. Fear spikes through your veins.

“Please don’t tell my mom! She can’t find out about this, I’ll be in so much trouble,” you beg and Agatha smirks. You jump when you feel Rio’s hand touch your thigh and you freeze when it slides up to the hem of your short skirt.

“So you don’t want us to tell your mom,” Rio muses, toying with the edge of the fabric. You have to bite back a moan and it becomes hard to breathe. “I guess that means we’ll have to punish you some other way for creating such a mess.”

“What did you–” You have to stop to swallow roughly. “What did you have in mind?”

Agatha hums lowly. “We need to make sure you learn your lesson, no matter how hard we have to beat it into you.” You whimper and pray that neither of them heard it.

But of course they did.

Rio snickers and cups your pussy, all the air being punched out of your lungs. “God, she’s dripping, Aggie,” she says and your face burns hotter than it ever has.

You shake your head, denying how much you actually want this, and try to clamp your legs close, but Agatha pries one open and Rio moves her fingers up and down your clothed slit.

“We can always go next door and tell your mom,” Agatha warns and that’s all it takes to convince you. You turn to Rio, wrap your arms around her, and pull her in for a kiss.

Immediately, Agatha yanks you back by your hair and Rio slaps you across the face. It’s not hard enough to seriously hurt, but the sting makes you gasp.

“Bedroom, now,” Agatha barks and practically drags you off the couch and up the stairs, Rio practically cackling while she follows.

You’re thrown onto the bed in the room that you may have snooped through a few times this week. Enough times to find all of their toys in their bedside drawer and imagine the women using them on each other.

The same nightstand where Rio is heading toward now. You watch her saunter over, lips parting, but Agatha roughly grabs your chin and forces your mouth open with her thumb.

“Don’t look at her,” she growls and leans down to whisper in your ear, “If you ever want us to stop, say purple.”

The second you nod, she spits directly into your mouth. A strangled moan leaves your throat and Agatha slides two fingers inside your mouth to spread her saliva all over your tongue. You gag around them as she pushes them deeper and you feel tears pricking your eyes. She scrapes her nails against your tongue and you roll it up to flick at her fingers, not missing the way she bites her lip.

And then she flips you over so your stomach is on the bed, hikes your skirt over your ass, and spanks you. The impact reverberates through your body and the sound echoes throughout the room.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“A young thing like you shouldn’t be using such dirty language,” Agatha tsks and slaps you again. “That’s for kissing that whore in our kitchen.”

Again.

“That’s for leaving a mess all over our house.”

Again.

“That’s for proving us wrong when we thought we could trust you.”

Again.

“That’s for making us punish you the second we get back from our lovely vacation.”

Again.

“And that is for teasing us all those times at your house when you’d come downstairs dressed in barely anything. It’s like you wanted us to notice how desperate you were for us,” she snaps.

You’ve dissolved into a moaning, sniveling puddle on their bed but the thought that you’ve been unknowingly turning this couple on makes you even hotter inside.

Agatha reaches down to the crotch of your underwear and laughs meanly. “God, you’re so fucking wet, did being spanked like a slut turn you on?”

While you consider yourself a proud person, there’s absolutely no pride in the way you nod your head so hard it hurts.

She tears your panties off and shoves two fingers in you without preamble. A loud sound rips out of your mouth and your body rocks forward with the force. She fucks you with a brutal pace and it’s exactly what you need, but then she pulls out and slaps you harder than before on the ass. You groan, absorbing the hit, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

You need her fingers back inside you, but she turns you back over and you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Rio comes back into view with two pairs of fluffy handcuffs and a few other toys. “Get against the headboard,” she orders and you scramble to obey. She hands one pair to Agatha and they both make quick work of chaining one cuff to your wrist and the other to the bedside post. You give an experimental tug of both hands and while you can wiggle your arms and wrists comfortably, there’s no getting out.

The two women come back around the bed to face you and you squirm under their direct attention.

“What do you think we should do with our naughty little plaything?” Rio asks, tongue pushing against the inside of her cheek, eyes lighting up with possibilities.

They fall into these roles so well and you can only imagine what it’s like when the two of them have sex.

“I think we should fuck her until she can’t take anymore and she’s begging for us to stop,” Agatha muses with a smirk. Your breath catches at her idea.

“I think the slut likes that sound of that,” Rio says and Agatha nods in agreement. “Maybe we hold the vibrator against her until she cries. What do you think, doll?” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Whatever you want, please just touch me,” you beg.

Agatha bends over to run a finger up your thigh, watching how you shake. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.” She crawls onto the bed so she’s kneeling in front of you and once again, pushes two fingers forcefully into your dripping pussy. She’s not gentle at all, curling her fingers and scraping her nails against your insides, but it’s perfect.

You struggle against the handcuffs, wishing you could touch her, but Rio tuts, takes off her pants and underwear, and moves to straddle your stomach, blocking Agatha partially from your view.

Your breath hitches as she pulls up the crop top from the party last night and lowers her wet cunt onto your abs and lightly grinds. Her head falls back and you think you could cum from the feeling of her against you like that.

And then she starts moving faster just as Agatha does, her fingers filling you and fucking you just how you need it, and Rio’s right hand comes to clasp around your throat. You throb around Agatha’s fingers and you had no idea that would be such a turn on for you.

Agatha’s thumb presses down so hard on your clit that it almost hurts while she keeps her merciless pace and your hips start to buck against her fingers. Rio squeezes harder and the lightheadedness you feel only drags you closer to the edge. Her nails dig into your skin and you think you might die from how good it feels.

“Are you going to cum for us?” Agatha asks from behind the woman riding your stomach faster.

“Yes,” you manage to choke out, seeing Rio’s delighted face on top of you.

And then Agatha pulls her fingers out of you and you whine loudly, only for her to slap your pussy hard.

You can hear the wetness.

And then you can hear buzzing.

Agatha presses something against your clit and you almost jump out of your skin.

It’s the vibrator and you’re guessing she turned it up to one of the highest settings. It’s so intense on you and you can’t help but cry out as it sends you straight into an orgasm. Being breathless from Rio’s hand around your throat only increases the pleasure and you’ve never felt anything like that before.

You expect some relief from the assault on your clit but it never comes. Agatha holds it against you while Rio slips a finger down to her own pussy to get more direct stimulation where she needs. The woman on top of you is beginning to fall apart and it only heightens your own sensitivity.

The vibrations have your hips rolling and you quickly cum again, and this time, you try to close your legs or scooch up the bed to get it off, but Agatha doesn’t let you.

She rakes her nails on your leg and then you feel her roughly bite your inner thigh. You gasp and your hips buck up, almost throwing Rio off.

Rio finally takes her hand off your throat and bends down over you so she can suck marks into your collarbones as well.

Both their mouths on you and the vibrations still on your clit throw you right over the edge again.

This time, Agatha does move it away from you and you can finally breathe.

But not for long, because Agatha slides a finger back inside your sopping cunt and lazily fucks you. Rio’s panting on top of you and she finally buckles with pleasure as she cums for the first time. It’s the hottest thing ever, the way she tosses her head back and seizes up, small sounds falling out of her mouth.

Once Rio comes down from her high, she gets off you, smirking at the glistening wetness on your stomach. You gape down at them as she joins Agatha to watch her fuck you.

And then your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back in your head when Rio pushes a finger into you too.

Fuck.

You have both of them inside you.

They move in sync, dragging their fingers out and thrusting back into you at the same time, and you groan loudly.

“How does it feel, angel?” Agatha says, voice thick and low.

“Feels so good,” you babble, sweat breaking out on your forehead as you raise your hips to meet them.

“Does our little slut need to cum over both our fingers?” Rio taunts.

Your head falls to the side, blissed out with the feeling of them both curling and pressing on that spot inside you that you can rarely get to on your own. Your stomach is almost cramping and your arms are aching from pulling so hard on the cuffs. “Yes, please, fuck, wanna cum, so close.”

And then they pull out of you at the same time like they planned it and you clench needily around nothing, your hips still undulating.

“Wait, what, why?” You wail and they start laughing at you. “No, no, come on, please.” You pull at your restraints like that will do anything and Agatha harshly slaps the inside of your thigh where she bit you earlier, and it makes you jump.

“Stop being a greedy little slut,” she scolds. Rio walks over and unlocks the handcuffs from you so you can sit up. “You already came twice. Maybe you’ll think twice about using our house for an orgy next time.”

“It wasn’t an orgy!” You protest and Rio rolls her eyes and grabs your jaw roughly.

“We don’t care if it was your fucking church group,” she snarls. “You made a mess and hopefully you’ve learned your lesson.”

You slouch, still feeling desperate. You can still feel both their hands in you, twisting and fucking you so well, and you don’t think you’re bound to forget that anytime soon.

“Well, angel, did you learn your lesson?” Agatha presses and you petulantly nod.

Not exactly beating their young and immature allegations anytime soon. Who cares though.

“You better get home before your mom starts to worry and thinks we’re torturing you,” Rio says, playful glint in her eye.

“Cause that would be so far from the truth,” you mutter and Agatha swats your leg again.

“Get out of here,” she says. “Maybe next time we go out of town, we can see if you were actually paying attention.”

All you know is that next time they leave, you’re going to throw an even bigger party.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha smut #agatha all along #agatha x rio #agathario #agathario x reader #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal x agatha harkness #covsfics

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firewasabeast · 6 months ago

Note

Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's 🥺 eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly 🥺, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.

(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)

A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!

One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.

While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.

He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.

Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.

Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.

How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.

How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.

How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.

How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.

Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.

Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.

Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.

Then it was just heartbreaking.

It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.

They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.

It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.

However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.

Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.

Buck let out a whistle. “What a view,” he teased.

Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. “Hey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.”

To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.

This... This was the start of an emotional night.

*****

Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.

Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.

It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.

“Evan?” Tommy called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Is... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?”

“No, it's-” Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.

He also knew today wasn't a regular day.

“I think it's all gone, Babe,” he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh. Okay.”

He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.

He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.

Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.

He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.

“I'll have cookies instead,” he said with a sniff.

Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.

“Honey, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?”

“I just...” His shoulders sagged. “I really don't want cookies.”

Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. “Why don't we go sit on the couch, okay?”

Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.

The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.

Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.

There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.

They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.

“Why don't you tell me about work?” Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.

“I only had two calls.”

“And?”

“And the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.”

“Casualties?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.”

Now Buck had a starting point.

“After that?”

Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. “The new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.”

“What'd he do?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“If it pissed you off, it matters.”

“He's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,” Tommy explained. “I guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.”

Buck knew where this was going. “You're kidding me?”

“I wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.”

“Good for you.”

Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. “The only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

“My aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.”

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I- If you wanna go-”

“There's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“What about your truck?” Buck asked. “You were working on it when I got home.”

“Oh. That.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “That was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. “You do need to get the door though. It's for you.”

Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.

About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. “You ordered my ice cream?”

Buck nodded, giving him a smile. “Of course I did.”

Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. “I love you so much.”

After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”

#bucktommy #911 #tommy kinard #evan buckley #my number one rule: if you can't figure out how to end a story- end with 'i love you' 😂#this would have been longer but im tired and emotional myself #thanks for reading! remember to VOTE!

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bigfatbimbo · 8 months ago

Text

I love you like an Alcoholic

2.1k words,, Bill x Reader

a/n — You did it, you saved the town.

warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, sub!Bill, toxic relationships, book of bill time era, orgasm denial, ambiguous superpowers, NOT PROOFREAD**

summary — Bill goes to his incredibly powerful (moreso than him) business partner, you, to try to get him out of theraprism. Things take a turn.

“I had to pull a lot of strings for this Bill,” you cross your legs and lean back in your thrown.

Bill straightens his bow-tie, “Well toots, what if I told you I can make it worth your while?”

You breathe and then get up from your chair, “I’d tell you to stop floating in my lair. It’s distracting.”

Snapping your fingers, a bar appears in your otherwise empty room. While pouring yourself a drink, you can feel Bills eye-roll from across the room.

With a tip of his hat, his more human form appears, and sits down at the bar stool next to you. “Better?”

“Could do with more abs.”

He laughs but doesn’t change his appearance, “So, y/n. We go way back, right? I’m not gonna sugar code it, you’ve always been one of my favorites to do business with, doll. Wanna know why?”

“The fact i’m always so interested in what you have to say?”

His eye practically twitched at your indifference. Your attention was never payed in full. “Ha! Don’t flatter your self, pal. No, i’ll tell you why: did you know out of everyone in the galaxy, you’re the only equal I do business with?”

Your eyebrow arches, “equal?”

“Humor me,” he doesn’t give you the chance to reply before continuing. “Now, given my current position in ‘necessary therapy’—“ he makes a point of doing obnoxious air quotes, “—I don’t have much to occupy my days. And we both know i’d be of better use to you out here, right?”

You took another sip of your wine before getting up from the bar and walking over to your throne. The bar disappears behind you, leaving cipher ass-flat on the ground.

“Oh come on—“ His open eye turns red momentarily, before he dusts himself off, “Look, it’s hard being a god, y/n, I know that much. With that responsibility, I think a business partner would do you good. And all you’d have to do is bail me out, that’s practically no downside for you at all, buddy.”

Your patience had been wearing thin, and without further consideration you let out a larger grown from your chair, “Cipher, you’re a liability. I don’t want you. I’m honestly struggling to find enjoyment in sharing a drink with you, despite our history.”

A flick of your hand lifts him off his feet and brings him over to you, “Thought you had a no floating policy, eh?” There’s no fear in his voice, but there is in his eye. He’s losing.

“I’m gonna make this clear to you. You’re gonna take your disgusting human form, and you’re gonna march your happy ass back to theraprism, and you’re gonna stay there. Want my advice? Stop being so damn pathetic.”

A portal opens to take him back and he struggles in your invisible grasp, “No, wait! Please, I’ll do anything, just wait!”

A human form was already a disadvantage, one he’d accepted in order to strike a deal, but a disadvantage still. And he hadn’t had any contact in a long time, aside from various psychiatrists telling him what’s ’wrong with him.’

So, you being someone he has history with could have contributed to his annoyingly human problem. Maybe it was the excitement, your attention or the lack there of, but something terrible happened at that moment.

“Jesus, Bill. You really have hit rock bottom,” You murmur to yourself as you pull his floating body closer to you, your fingers dance around the bulge without touching it.

“Hey, hey, watch it— Your the one that made me have this stupid fleshbag, anyways— cut that out!” He struggled in the air, finding that he just couldn’t turn back into his normal form. You’re doing, he’d assume.

To his dismay, you giggle and lean back, “Well now i’m enjoying myself. Now this I could help with, Cipher,”

“Ah, ah pass! Just get me down from here and—“ Back to prison? He’d have to swallow his pride on this one. And besides, it’s not like he wouldn’t like it… “Whatever you want, doll. I’m here all night.”

You examine him further, “Is that so?”

Before he can answer, you drop him to his knees in front of you. “Ow! Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart. I’m not in mint condition these days— ah!”

Your foot presses down lightly on the bulge in his pants, and your fingers grab onto his chin, “Been a minute since we’ve done this. Huh, Cipher?”

He nods, going to say something, before you interject, “So i’d be good if I was you, baby.”

You press down on his hard-on with more pressure, watching Ciphers face flicker, biting his lip, before letting on a whimper.

Despite not being his first encounter, so to speak, with you of this nature, it never failed to eat as his pride. And furthermore, despite this, it felt good. If Bill was anything, he was selfish. He could admit he was letting it happen for himself, instead of in spite of himself. So it can’t be that humiliating?

But in this position, there’s always shame.

“Y/n — give me a break—“ He breathed, eye twitching.

You rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers, with that, his pants were gone and his dick was exposed. That’s another thing he could do without: your unpredictability

“Next time, say please. Asshole.” You say, lifting him up with your powers once more.

“Wow, buddy. I’m not the one being the jerk here—“ It came out quick, as Bill words often did. But these ones he regretted immediately.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Tough crowd?” He felt a sensation tugging at the base of his dick, indicating the start of mind games that wouldn’t end anytime soon.

He backtracked. Play it off. “Yeesh, you’re a tough crowd! Did I say jerk? You heard me wrong, I meant lovely— Ah, wait! Wait!”

A wave of pleasure flooded his senses abruptly, followed by a short pinch of pain, similar to what a mortal feels when they prick their finger on a piece of metal. Does that happen a lot? They’re all so clutsy, can’t be that out of the ordinary—

“Smooth talk your way out and maybe I’ll lighten the blow, yeah?” You smile cruelly, hand dangling out, flexing as if teasing what you could do to him.

“I— I know we’ve had our disagreements but I— augh!” A spike of pain, his eye rolled back a bit, “You— I’ve always admired your work— Yes! Respected you even, you’re an idol, sweetheart, ah, yes!”

With each compliment a burst of pleasure would go through him, landing at his unnatural dick, now leaking with precum. He was nearly babbling, but he was as aware of that as he was aware of the fact it was dearly encouraged.

“Very good, Billy. You’re too sweet, really.” Your voice was smooth and you bit your lip, watching him writhe with pleasure mid-air.

“A-anything for you, toots! Ah, more, more!”

He didn’t notice he said anything wrong this time until it was too late, but your face had noticeably darkened at the statement.

“That’s awful demanding for someone in your position, dontcha’ think?” You weren’t actually mad, of course you weren’t. But you loved to you with him, and you took every opportunity. One of the reasons Bill tried to avoid you when he could; you were far too similar people, dealing in cruelty for the sake of entertainment.

“Wha- No wait!” The attention to his dick ceased to exist, and he was left with only aching for attention again, despite the fact you never gave anything physical in the first place.

All mind games. “That’s- That’s not fair!”

“I’d watch who you were talking too, baby,” You flick your hand, spreading out his body parts mid air, hard leaking cock protruding out, crying for any kind of sensation.

“You know what I can do. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” You sigh expectantly.

Bill tried to speak to defend himself, to talk his way out, but he found his ability to gone.

“I can make you do what I want, Cipher. Can make you feel whatever I want. Extraordinary pain—“ He cries out for a split second, eye flashing with fear, “—Or overwhelming pleasure.”

This time his eye rolled back, and he moans in wonderful agony, unable to move expect for wriggling his body parts weakly. His dick twitched.

“You like that feeling?”

He nods weakly, eyes fogging up, letting a small whimper escape.

“Don’t want me to hurt you?” Another nod, “Want me to make you feel good? Think you deserve it?”

“Ah— y/n, I need…” He swallows, revising his words in his mind, “Please, I need this.”

It’s true, Bill had never reached such a low in his entire existence. And he wasn’t sure if this interaction was pushing him further down or making him feel better. Now, however, he was struggling to think.

“Aw, baby. You have taken your punishment well? Been having a rough time too..” Your tone switched to something softer, almost to a condescending note.

His pathetic appearance did him justice, he pretended this was on purpose.

Either way, a whine slipped from his throat and he shut his eyes, playing into it. You cooed in response, bringing him closer to you in order to run your hand along the side of his cheek.

A spurt of pleasure shoots through his dick once more, and now he can’t help but yearn for something more. “Touch me— I need it— Please.” He threw in, trying to help his chances, despite the struggle at forming a coherent thought other than need.

“Hm,” You consider. Finally you reach out, running a finger along the base of his cock, to the tip. “You really want me to?”

He nodded desperately, mouth falling open to let out a small whine. Swear bedded his hot, red face, and dripped down, make his multiple chins glisten. Ugh, you preferred him further away. His already greasy looking hair was now slick against his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over.

You slowly shift all of your fingers onto his shaft and then saintly drag them up and down for the first few strokes. A gutteral whimper falls from Ciphers mouth, “Oh, yes!”

“What do we say, baby?” You ask, grip tightening suddenly as if to bring him back to reality, but not too tight.

“Ah— Thank you!” He’d almost forgotten to detest you for making him say that. And he’d almost forgotten to remind himself to be mad after he was done feeling good.

He used to daydream about taking you down after these sessions. Rising to power and having you at his feet. But now he only wants to keep your attention on him. Now it’s all he can think about.

You continue to stroke his leaking cock, leaning in to kiss his cheek fat, “Good boy.”

He moaned, “Don’t do that-“

“I’m not patronizing you. I mean it, you’re acting better than usual and i’m glad. Maybe you’re more desperate, or touch-starved, but you’re doing good. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Ah—“ He would have came right there if he could. And in the most literal sense, he couldn’t. You weren’t letting him. “Please, let me come. I can’t do this, have mercy, I’ll do anything—“

“I don’t know, I’m having a good time. Why should I?” Another desperate need to release wipes over him, an uncontrollable need that was actively being controlled.

Despite himself, he teared up. His fingers rose to touch his face, which he realized, was now damp with falling tears, “No, no, no! I can’t- I’ve never- Human bodies— I need to. Please!”

You look at him and smile.

“I’ve been good,” He reminded you.

With that, you have in. Your other hand moved away to snap your fingers, a gesture that wasn’t need to carry out the action, but to show that he’d earned his reward.

“Yes! Thank you! Oh gods— Oh-“ He leaned back, finally having the orgasm that was being withheld from him. And god, it felt good.

You felt good, and he hated that.

#gravity falls x reader #bill cipher x reader #gravity falls x you #gravity falls #gravity falls imagines #dom reader #sub male character #bill cipher imagines #bill cipher smut #bill cipher #x reader

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mintyys-blog · 15 days ago

Text

QUIET KICKS | batfam x pregnant! batsis! reader

DC COMICS MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: pregnancy, complicated relationships,

It started small.

No one noticed at first. When Y/N dropped out of patrol for a “mental reset,” everyone figured it was burnout. That life was catching up. That being a Wayne and a vigilante meant she needed to breathe before she broke.

And maybe that was partly true.

But the real reason sat under her hoodie, growing by the week.

At 10 weeks, she officially stopped suiting up.

Barbara raised an eyebrow during their video call. “Since when do you take breaks?” she teased. “Last time you had a dislocated shoulder and still limped through the warehouse raid.”

Y/N just smiled. “Trying out the whole ‘self-care’ thing, you know? Big fan of not being thrown into concrete.”

Babs didn’t buy it, not really. But she let it go. For now.

At 13 weeks, Cass showed up at her apartment unannounced.

She stood outside with a coffee and a cinnamon roll. Y/N hesitated before opening the door—her hoodie just barely zipped up.

“You’re off,” Cass said after five minutes. She was direct like that.

Y/N chuckled nervously. “Is that your way of saying I look like crap?”

“No. You’re glowing. But… tired. Hiding.”

Cass stared too deeply. Too long. Y/N shifted behind the counter, hiding her stomach.

“Just worn out,” she lied.

Cass blinked slowly. She didn’t believe her. But she nodded.

At 15 weeks, Steph sent her memes all night and didn’t get a single reply. The next day, she cornered her on Facetime.

“You’re ghosting me,” Steph said, arms crossed. “You never ghost me. Even when you’re dying, you send at least one gif.”

“Been sleeping a lot,” Y/N said. “Sorry, hormonal. Cranky. Didn’t wanna snap.”

Steph squinted. “Hormonal? You sick or something?”

Y/N froze for half a second too long.

Steph leaned in. “Wait. Wait. What aren’t you telling me?”

Y/N forced a grin. “Just PMS stuff. Relax.”

Steph didn’t. She talked to Cass later. They looped in Babs.

A quiet investigation began.

The girls didn’t tell the boys yet. Or Bruce. They decided to try to coax it out of her instead.

So at 17 weeks, they planned an ambush brunch. Y/N showed up in a baggy sweater dress and a long trench coat, claiming she “was just cold.”

They talked. Ate. Laughed. She was still her—just… more cautious. A little slower sitting down. She pressed a hand to her stomach once when she thought no one was looking.

Cass noticed. Babs did too. And Steph? Steph reached out suddenly across the table and said, “If you’re pregnant, you know we’ll love the baby, right?”

Y/N froze. Her fork clattered.

Silence. The table went still. She stared at them. “I’m not—”

“Don’t lie,” Cass said softly.

Y/N’s eyes burned. Her breath caught. “I didn’t want to tell anyone yet,” she whispered. “Not even the father knows. We… it’s complicated. And I didn’t want to drag you all into it before I figured out how to be okay with it myself.”

Steph grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to hide from us.”

Barbara smiled gently. “You’re family. We protect our own. Even the tiniest ones.”

Y/N blinked hard. Tears slipped out before she could stop them. They didn’t push her for the name. Or the father.

They just held her. Whispered support. Laughed about onesies and argued about which of them would be the “cool aunt.”

And when Y/N felt that little kick under the table—the first one she’d felt during the day—she smiled through her tears.

Because for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel like she was carrying a secret. She felt like she was carrying something

Y/N sat on her couch, hands cradling her now unmistakable bump, the sunlight leaking in through her curtains.

The brunch with the girls was three days ago.

Cass had started sending baby name suggestions via coded messages.

Steph ordered a “Best Aunt Ever” mug.

Barbara offered to hack medical databases for prenatal care access like a true Oracle.

But one thing still weighed like a brick on Y/N’s heart.

Hal didn’t know.

It had been months of silent panic. Of missed calls. Of “I’m fine, just tired” texts and white lies that tasted worse every time she said them.

He wasn’t absent, exactly. Just… off-world. Lantern duties. Cosmic threats. And when he was around, they met in secret. Quiet dinners. Stolen nights. His hand always warm against hers.

She hadn’t seen him in three weeks. But he was back now. She saw it in the JL logs.

And tonight—tonight she had to tell him.

11:47 p.m.

Her finger hovered over the call button. Then pressed. Hal answered on the second ring, voice bright and cocky like always. “Well, well. I was just thinking about you, sweetheart. Missed me that bad?”

She didn’t even answer at first. Her throat tightened. “…Y/N?”

“I need to tell you something,” she said quietly. A pause. His voice dipped low. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I just… I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Babe, I kinda figured. I thought maybe you needed space. Or your Bat-brood was clamping down.”

“No. It’s not that.” He went silent. Then, softer: “You’re scaring me.” She closed her eyes. Took a breath. “I’m pregnant, Hal.”

Static silence. “…What?”

“I found out a while ago. I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to drag you into something life-altering without knowing how you’d react.” Another long pause. Then he laughed—not mocking, not cruel, just stunned. Disbelieving.

“Wait. Wait. You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna be a dad?”

“…Yeah.” Her voice broke. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

There was a sound like he dropped something—maybe his ring had glitched mid-hover. Maybe he actually sat down. She imagined him in some motel room lit by neon signs, hand over his mouth.

And then: “Holy sh—I mean—wow. Wow.”

Y/N blinked fast. “If you’re gonna freak out, just—do it now. I already told the girls. I’m prepared.”

“No, hey—Y/N.” His voice steadied. “No freaking out. Okay? I’m—this is big. It’s massive. But I’m not bailing. Not now. Not ever.”

“You’re not… mad?”

“Mad? I’m the luckiest guy in the galaxy. I just… I need a second to catch up. You’re pregnant.” She smiled through her tears. “Seventeen weeks.”

“Seventeen weeks?! Oh, I’m so dead. Bruce is going to put me in a gravity well.”

“Don’t tell him,” she whispered.

He snorted. “Who do you think I am? I like breathing.” Y/N wiped her face. “So… you’re good? You want to be part of this?”

“Absolutely. I want all of it. The weird cravings, the mood swings, the late-night kicks—hell, I’ll build a crib out of hard light if you want me to.” She laughed. “You might need to.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow,” he said. “Whatever else is going on—this comes first.” Y/N closed her eyes. “Okay.”

“You’re not alone, Y/N. You never were.” She rested a hand over the steady kick under her ribs. “…I know that now.”

THE NEXT DAY

The knock on the door was gentle. Hesitant. It was also glowing green. Of course it was.

Y/N stood frozen in her apartment, one hand resting under her bump like a reflex. She hadn’t seen Hal in person in almost a month. She hadn’t told him she was showing. Not really. Not in pictures. Not in video calls.

But here he was.

She opened the door slowly. And there he stood, in civilian clothes—a bomber jacket, jeans, slightly scuffed boots, and the world’s most awkward grin.

In one hand: a bouquet of slightly squished peonies and daisies. n the other: a neon-green construct of floating toys—stackable rings, a rattle, a stuffed alien bear, and something that suspiciously resembled a baby-sized power ring.

“Hey,” he said.

Y/N’s eyes welled up immediately.

“You brought toys.”

“I panicked.” He stepped in slowly, eyes glued to her. “I didn’t know what to get. I figured flowers were for you, toys were for the little peanut.”

She laughed, her voice cracking. “The peanut?”

“What, you got a name already?” he teased, stepping closer.

His voice lowered as his eyes fell to her bump, more visible now that she wore a fitted shirt instead of her usual loose hoodie. His breath caught.

“Wow.” He looked genuinely stunned. “It’s… real.”

She nodded, swallowing thick emotion. “Yeah. Kind of hard to ignore now.”

“Can I—?”

She took his hand and gently guided it to her stomach. His fingers trembled a little. And then—just faintly—kick.

His eyes widened. “Oh, sh—” He stopped himself. “Oh, stars.”

Y/N smiled through her tears. “That’s been happening more often.”

“You feel that all the time?”

She nodded.

Hal exhaled, rubbing gentle circles. “You’ve been doing this all alone. All this time.”

“I didn’t want to pressure you.”

He shook his head. “You’re not pressure. You’re—you’re it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wow. That was almost romantic.”

“Hey, don’t make me recite space poetry. It exists. It’s weird.”

She snorted.

He looked up at her, the grin faltering into something more serious.

“I mean it. I want to be in this. I want to do this with you. The diaper disasters, the night feeds, the awkward ‘don’t touch that, that’s radioactive’ talks. All of it.”

“You’re not scared?” she asked softly.

“I’m terrified,” he said immediately. “But I’m more scared of you going through this thinking I wouldn’t want to be here.”

Y/N finally let herself lean into him, arms wrapping around his waist, her face buried in his shoulder. He held her so carefully, one hand protectively on her back, the other never leaving her stomach.

“You’re going to be such a chaotic dad,” she mumbled.

He chuckled against her hair. “Only fair. Our kid’s gonna have Bat-blood and Lantern trouble in their veins.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. “We’re going to have to tell the others. Eventually.”

Hal groaned dramatically. “Ugh. Your brothers are going to string me up.”

“Cass, Steph, and Babs already know.”

“Traitors. Should’ve recruited them to the Corps.”

Y/N laughed, and it felt easier this time. Lighter. Safer.

They sat down on the couch a few minutes later, her feet in his lap, one of his arms around her, his other hand still toying with the stuffed alien bear he’d made.

“You know,” she said, eyeing the plush, “you didn’t do terrible.”

“Thank you,” he said proudly. “I googled ‘baby toy that doesn’t look cursed.’”

“Impressive restraint.”

“I’m trying. For you. And peanut.”

The baby kicked again—maybe just to punctuate the moment. Hal grinned so big it lit up the whole room.

Outside the window, Cass sat perched on the opposite rooftop, sipping tea like a sniper.

“Target: secured,” she whispered into the mic.

Steph’s voice crackled back. “Lantern is IN. I repeat: Lantern is IN.”

Barbara, from the comms channel: “Tell him he’s not getting out of diaper duty. I don’t care if it’s intergalactic.”

Hal had only wanted a crib.

That’s it. One normal, not-made-of-hard-light, Earth-certified, non-collapsing baby crib that didn’t look like it came out of a cursed Pinterest board.

He’d even been doing well—he had narrowed it down to one that looked “safe and dad-like.” He was winning.

Until the voice hit him like a batarang to the kidneys.

“Hal? What are you doing in Gotham?”

He flinched so hard he nearly knocked over a display of cloud-shaped mobiles. Turning slowly, he found himself face to face with Bruce Wayne: tailored coat, unreadable eyes, and the kind of energy that said I’ve already solved seven crimes before lunch.

“Oh,” Hal croaked. “Hey, Bats—Bruce. Just, uh. Browsing.”

Bruce’s gaze dipped to the crib display.

Then narrowed.

“…At a baby store?”

“Looking at cribs?”

Hal nodded way too fast. “Yep. My girlfriend’s pregnant.”

A beat of silence.

“Congratulations,” Bruce said finally. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship—let alone a serious one.”

Hal snorted. “Like you’re one to talk…”

Bruce’s eyes sharpened like they were calculating a heat signature off Hal’s forehead.

“I see.”

Hal grabbed the crib box like a life preserver. “This one’s great. Five stars. Sturdy. No sharp corners. Doesn’t look like it’ll collapse and yeet my kid.”

Bruce blinked. “Yeet?”

“Yeah, you know—modern slang for catastrophic child ejection. Anyway. Never mind. Forget I said that.”

Bruce said nothing, which was worse than anything he could’ve said. His stare bore into Hal’s skull like a drill.

Hal coughed and tugged at his collar. “Sooo, you should… go. Or stay. Or not interrogate me. That’d be fantastic.”

Without breaking eye contact, Bruce calmly reached into his coat pocket and handed Hal a business card.

Embossed. Clean. Gold lettering.

“My contact for pediatricians. Private. Trusted.”

Hal blinked down at the card. “Wait—you’re giving me dad resources? You’re not mad?”

Bruce tilted his head. “Should I be?”

That. That was it. That was the line.

The one that meant: I know you’re hiding something. I just haven’t pulled it out of your skull yet.

Hal’s grin was so fake it practically squeaked. “Noooope. Everything is totally, completely fine and unrelated to any Bat-family members. No connections whatsoever. Thank you. You’re the best. Cool card. Love this vibe. Really healthy.”

Bruce took one last look at him. Then at the crib. Then at Hal again.

“Good luck,” he said softly. And walked away.

Just like that.

But Hal didn’t exhale until Bruce was gone.

He slumped forward over the crib, muttering into the mattress pad:

“Ohhh no. Ohhh hell. He’s gonna figure it out. He’s Batman. He already knows.”

A kid nearby picked up a plastic rattle and started slamming it against a toy box.

Hal pointed at him. “Exactly. That’s my future.”

He sighed, gripping the crib like it could shield him from the World’s Greatest Detective.

“This thing’s got more parts than a fighter jet.”

Hal muttered the words under his breath as he stared at the disassembled crib pieces laid out across Y/N’s living room floor. Screws, bolts, bars, and instructions that looked more like ancient scrolls—it was chaos. Plastic bags littered the floor. There was already one piece he was convinced didn’t belong to any crib.

Y/N sat on the couch, a pillow tucked behind her back, tea in hand, trying not to laugh too hard.

“You could just use your ring,” she offered sweetly.

Hal shook his head immediately, jaw set like a man on a mission. “No shortcuts. This is sacred work. Crib construction is a rite of passage. It’s gotta be done by hand.”

“With your manual labor and dad-muscles?”

He flexed one arm, completely straight-faced. “Exactly. Can’t have my baby thinking I’m some lazy light show.”

She rolled her eyes, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smile.

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you chose me. Sucks to be you.”

He fumbled with a screw, then cursed softly when it rolled under the couch. She just laughed, sipping her tea with an amused little hum.

After a while, she got up and waddled over to sit beside him on the floor, her legs crossed slowly. “You know,” she started gently, “I’m hosting dinner at the manor this weekend.”

Hal, halfway through attaching the crib railing, paused. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. All of them are coming. The whole Bat-family.”

He looked up slowly. “Like… all of them all of them?” She nodded, watching him carefully. “I’m going to tell them.”

Hal sat back on his heels, screwdriver still in hand. “…Tell them about the baby?”

“Yeah.”

He blinked. “And you’re sure it’s a dinner and not a trial by combat?” She smacked his arm. “I’m serious.”

“I know. I just…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Wow. Okay. That’s big.”

“They deserve to know. And I’m tired of hiding. It’s not just my life anymore. It’s theirs, too.” He looked at her belly, softening. “You’re right.” Her hand rested over his. “I want you there.” Hal froze. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” she said. “You’re their father, Hal. And you’re mine.”

He swallowed, throat dry. “You’re really doing it. Bat-family dinner. Pregnancy reveal. Me at the table.”

She smiled. “You nervous?”

“I’m terrified.”

She giggled, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. You’re building a crib with your bare hands. If that’s not bravery, I don’t know what is.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her. “You really think they’ll go easy on me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“…Yeah, that tracks.”

Hal stood over the crib, tools scattered everywhere, sweat clinging to his brow. But it was done. Built. Solid. Standing tall like a tiny fortress.

“No alien help. No ring tricks. Just pure, raw, dad energy.” He looked proud. Y/N came up beside him, resting a hand on the edge. “It’s perfect.”

He kissed her temple, soft and slow. “We’re gonna be okay.” She nodded, voice small. “Yeah. I think we will.”

Wayne Manor was glowing.

Alfred had outdone himself. The long dining table was set with polished silver, gleaming candles casting soft, flickering light over everything. The good china was on display—an immediate warning that this was not a dinner for casual conversation.

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the soft fabric of her dress, a trench coat over it— one hand smoothing over her barely-there bump. Her other hand, however, was tightening around Hal’s, who was currently trying to make himself as invisible as possible.

“You ready?” she asked, her voice steady but the slight tremor in her smile betraying her nervousness.

Hal, already sweating through the collar of his suit, tugged at it for the fifth time. “Absolutely not.”

“You look handsome,” she said, her voice gentle, reassuring.

“I look like I’m about to walk into a supervillain intervention.”

Y/N grinned. “You kind of are.”

His eyes widened, and he shot her a panicked glance. “Thanks, that makes me feel so much better.”

She kissed his cheek quickly and gave his hand a comforting squeeze, tugging him toward the dining room. As they entered, the Bat-family was already gathered, looking as polished and dangerous as usual, their eyes immediately locking onto the unfamiliar face at Y/N’s side.

Bruce Wayne stood at the head of the table, arms folded, his gaze sharp and calculating. His eyes narrowed the moment he saw Hal.

Beside him stood Selina Kyle, her gaze flicking between the two with a raised brow. Then there was Damian, the youngest but certainly not the quietest, who barely spared a glance at Hal before turning his attention to Y/N.

Cassandra Cain, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Duke Thomas, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, and Dick Grayson all sat at the table, their eyes moving over Hal like he was a puzzle they were trying to solve. Kate Kane stood near the back, her arms crossed, and Alfred, as always, was overseeing everything with a knowing smile, clearly anticipating the chaos that was about to unfold.

Y/N stood in front of them, holding Hal’s hand tightly, and cleared her throat. “This is… my boyfriend, Hal. Hal Jordan.”

The room fell silent. “And he is the father of my child, I’m pregnant.”

Bruce’s glare could have melted steel, and the tension in the air was palpable. Even Selina seemed to be holding back a comment, while the others exchanged silent, knowing looks.

Hal tried his best to remain casual, though his smile was tight, his posture stiff. He cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you all.”

Damian, of course, was the first to break the silence.

“So, you weren’t fat? Just pregnant?” he asked, blunt as ever, his arms crossed, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

Y/N blinked, her face flushing a deep red. “Yes, Damian. Thanks for that.”

Damian gave a small nod of approval. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of the Bat-family seemed to struggle with either laughter or disbelief. Tim’s eyes flicked between Y/N and Hal, trying to process everything. Stephanie couldn’t hold back a snicker, while Dick looked at Hal with an eyebrow raised, as if silently daring him to say something that would make this more entertaining.

Bruce, however, was silent, his gaze still locked on Hal, studying him. There was no denying the simmering anger just beneath the surface, but whether it was directed at Hal himself or the situation in general, no one could quite tell. Selina, though, gave a small, amused smirk, clearly entertained by the tension.

“Well, I guess now we know,” Stephanie said, her voice laced with laughter, “you’re really full of surprises, Y/N.”

Y/N shot her a sharp look, then let out a sigh, squeezing Hal’s hand tighter.

“I wasn’t sure how to tell you all,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But now, I guess you know. Hal and I… we’re expecting.”

The room was silent for a few heartbeats. Then the questions began.

“Wait, you?” Tim blurted out, still processing. “Green Lantern? Really?”

“Green Lantern?” Duke’s voice was slightly incredulous. “Seriously?”

Bruce finally spoke up, his voice deep and controlled. “You’re sure about this?”

Y/N nodded firmly. “I’m sure.”

Hal, sensing the disapproval, took a step forward. “I get it. I know I’m not the ideal boyfriend material you were hoping for, but I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Cassandra’s gaze softened slightly, but she said nothing.

“I’m not as bad as he looks,” Hal continued, half-joking. “Although I’d probably get in trouble for that one.” He glanced at Bruce, who hadn’t broken his glare once.

Dick, always the peacemaker, tried to lighten the mood. “So, uh, are we throwing a baby shower, or is that going to be the next surprise?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You guys are ridiculous.”

But despite the teasing, there was a warmth to the way the family shifted, a sort of grudging acceptance as they realized that maybe—just maybe—this was all going to be okay.

Bruce was still glaring at Hal, but there was something else there now. The faintest flicker of understanding, maybe even approval. He nodded once, short and clipped.

“Don’t mess this up,” he muttered, his tone somehow both a warning and a blessing.

Hal smiled, even if it was a little strained. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#x reader #reader insert #x female reader #pregnant reader #batfam x fem reader #batfam x batsis #batsis!reader #hal jordan x reader #hal jordan #bruce wayne #damian wayne #barbra gordon

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girlyassumes · 24 days ago

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Repetitively affirming isn't necessary

I need this reminder, and you might need it, too. A lot of coaches and content creators pitch the idea of repeating affirmations to saturate and help reprogram your mind. I've done it for a couple of manifestations now and it can definitely help, which is why I've talked about it here on my blog. However, when you're doing it so frequently, it can feel tiring, like you're experiencing burnout. I know this because I myself have been experiencing it lately and realized that this is definitely not how I'm supposed to feel.

Think of all the times you've made a decision, only stated it one time, and then it came to fruition. Or how you might've rampaged for only 5 minutes and then you manifested what you wanted. There's already proof that you don't have to repeat your affirmations over and over to get what you want. And, if you're like me and feeling burnt out from ridiculous amounts of repetition, then stop yourself. Whether you're doing it in your mind, scripting a lot, etc, slow down if it's causing you stress and burnout. Because, again, that is not how it's supposed to feel.

Looking at my successes, both big and small, I've noticed it didn't come from affirming over and over again, weeks on end. It came from being in a state of confidence and convincing myself that I already had what I wanted, not worrying and stressing that it's not something I have yet. I am very guilty of stressing myself out with one of my seemingly bigger manifestations, which absolutely sucks but it can happen when it feels like a big leap and you feel it needs to show up in a short period of time. There can also be underlying feelings that you might not be catching onto to, like, doubtfulness, disbelief, unworthiness, etc. These feelings might be subconsciously manifesting themselves into your present state, making it feel harder and more stressful for you. I know damn well because I've put myself through it.

So then, what's the solution? Well, we have to dodge those doubts and what circumstances are being thrown at us, because those doubts and insecurities are what's causing problems in the first place. Affirm when you're experiencing feelings of doubtfulness, disbelief, and stress. You don't have to constantly affirm like there's no tomorrow. Affirming is here to keep you in that positive, wish fulfilled state. It's here to remind you that you already have what you want, no matter what your 3D reality is trying to push. View affirmations as your safety net, not what you constantly need to do in order to get your manifestation. Techniques (like repetitive affirming) are there to assist; they're not requirements for you to get what you want. If repetitively affirming helps, then do it. But, from my own experience, I've done it too much at times and it fried my brain.

I cannot stress enough, LOA works paradoxically when it comes to timing and how it shows up. When we pressure ourselves too much on time, it'll slow down the manifestation from showing up. It's a form of acting as if it's not already ours. Don't say things like, "If I don't get this thing in [x] amount of time, it's not mine." or "Law of assumption doesn't work if I don't get it within the period of time I want it." That is doubt. Time - including timelines like the past and future - is something made up by society. Time is an illusion, as crazy as that sounds. If you take your focus off of it, it'll relieve so much stress and make your manifestation show up quicker. You also don't focus on how you'll get it because, again, there are infinite ways your manifestation can make its way to you. That is not for you to worry about. The action of manifesting is simply putting it out there that it's yours, not repetitively affirming, focusing on time, etc. Manifesting isn't a process - it's a simple action we take.

Something that relieves me - who's a worrywart and overthinker - is reminding myself that manifestation is 100% guaranteed to happen. Think of it like riding a mechanical bull at the bar. It's supposed to be fun and the object of it is to hang onto it without falling off. View the bull as what you're manifesting. You've gotta hold onto that bull and not lose your grip. If you stress about it and lose your grip, it knocks you off of it. But guess what? Even if you do, you can hop right back onto that bull and get a better grip on it. The only way you won't win a mechanical bull ride competition is if you say, "I give up" and don't try again. So, what I'm saying is that wavering is okay - it happens to all of us. But don't think it'll stop you from getting what you want and that you can't pick yourself back up just because you knocked yourself down. You. Cannot. Fail. At. Manifesting.

Also understand that if you tell yourself, "I'll just keep living life like I had been before I knew about law of assumption," things won't change or they won't necessarily improve. You are always manifesting, and when you do things like complain or let insecurities get to you, you'll subconsciously manifest things that are unfavorable. If you feel burnt out or stressed, understand that it's not because the thing you want isn't meant for you or that you're doing something wrong, it's you thinking from the state of "I don't have it" and forcing techniques onto yourself that aren't helping you. Don't put pressure on yourself and do something that brings you to a better state of mind, even if it's as simple as doing a hobby you enjoy.

Also keep in mind that there are times where manifesting change may feel uncomfortable because you're shifting your reality to one that you aren't used to. But realize you want that change because you noticed something in your life that's lacking; something that's making you unhappy. Ask yourself: Do you want to keep living the life you've been living without seeing any change or do you want to improve your life even if you experience feelings of discomfort for a short period of time? You decide. You're the operant power and can change your life for the better just by making a simple decision.

#law of assumption #manifestation #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #how to manifest #manifesting #affirmations #affirming #loass tumblr #loassblr #loass states #loassblog #loass post #loablr

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rkvriki · 1 year ago

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GOT ME THINKING NONSENSE sim jaeyun ౨ৎ

synopsis! you get paired up with jake, your sweet classmate who’s always willing to help you, but while you’re both working, he seems to be the one needing help. wc! 5.1k cw! porn with barely no plot unprotected sex (wrap it up yall!!), SUB!JAKE, dom!reader obvi, oral (m! receiving), jake is whiny and reader is just a tad bit mean, unexpirienced but not virgin jake, had huge writers block in the beggining pls spare me 😣

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You could still feel the high heat in your body when you were walking away from your and Heeseng’s place. You probably didn’t look the most presentable, cheeks flush, hair a little bit tousled and your clothes were most likely all wrinkled from being messily thrown out. The walk from your apartment to Jake’s wasn’t longer than 10 minutes since he lived quite close. You checked your phone and it had been 6 minutes past the time you had planned with Jake so you tried to walk a little faster, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling between your legs, the aftermath of your and Heeseung’s sins.

You had met Jake during one of the classes you had together when one day you were late and the sit next to him was the only one available. He was the usual classmate who didn’t talk much but still had a good group friend, in which Heeseung was included. You two didn’t talk much unless when you ask him to help you with something and to you it almost looked as if he avoided talking to you. You often noticed how his cheeks warmed up when you talked to him or how his eyes flickered from yours to the environment around him, which you found cute and made you bite back a smirk each time you interacted. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Jake attractive. His face looked like it could’ve been sculpted by the Gods above, and when he wore his glasses you swore you could drop all the dignity you had left for him.

It wasn’t too long after that you reached Jake’s apartment building. You took your phone out, texting him that you had reached his house. You didn’t have to wait long to see how good Jake looked today. Sporting basic jeans with a striped polo sweater and his usual black specs, he looked better than ever. Before your mind could wander any further, you walked towards the entrance, greeting him with a smile and following him upstairs and inside his apartment. When you first walked in, you noticed right away how neat his place looked, just like him.

“Nice place you got.” You said with a smile, making him look back at you with a surprised expression. “Oh? Thanks, though! I’m not very good at decorating but I tried my best here.” Jake answered with a shy chuckle. “Yeah, I could tell you did.”

He leads you further into the hallway, entering the door to his room. His room was a reflection of himself. Anyone could tell this was his room just from the way it’s organized and coordinated. The books on the shelves were all neatly placed and organised in alphabetic order. His desk was free of clutter and had only the necessary things placed above it, that, if you considered a picture of what you assumed was his dog necessary. Your eyes found Jake’s and you could see him tense up when you did so.

“Shall we get to work then?” You asked with a smile. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He said quickly moving to sit by his desk. You put your things down and sat next to him, your thighs almost touching since the desk was clearly made for only one person to sit there. You pulled out your laptop and opened the document your teacher had sent you with all the instructions.

“I think we could divide the topics for each other and then discuss which information to keep..” Jake suggested, his eyes flickering between the various topics shown on the screen. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, Jakey.” The nickname slipped faster than you could catch, but you don’t regret it, especially after seeing how Jake’s ears slowly turned red. You bit your bottom lip to prevent the smirk threatening to form.

You had been working for a little past an hour and you could feel your eyes getting tired from looking at your computer screen for so long. From your peripheral vision, you could see Jake running a hand through his raven hair with a heavy sigh, making your eyes turn to look his way. With your head propped on your hand, you admired as he scrolled through endless reports, trying to find any good content he could for the presentation.

He hadn't noticed your staring, too focused on the screen ahead of him. Your eyes moved down his body. His sleeves had been pulled up a little, just below his elbows, showing off the veins that ran down to his hands. Oh, his hands. Something you always stared at. Anytime you would ask him for help in class you would always get distracted by the hands of the man beside you as he used them to point things out in your textbook. You would almost drool as you stared at his thick fingers, letting your mind wander further than it should.

Obviously, you didn’t keep these things for yourself. This had been a hot topic on your late-night calls with Yunjin, the one you would always run to when you needed feminine advice and didn’t want to hear the constant nagging Jay gave any time you talked about boys. The girl would always laugh at you, mentioning that you must have a thing for nerdy-looking guys or, in her words “pathetic men” (her theory got confirmed when you told her you fucked Heeseung). It wasn’t totally false. It is true that you liked weak men who wouldn’t hesitate to get on their knees for you. Blame you for being tired of guys with big egos who think they’re all that.

Another big sigh, almost groan, snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at Jake and saw him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. “Everything alright?” You asked as you slid your chair closer to his. “Yeah, sorry. Just can’t find any good info for my topics.” He said as he nodded his head towards the screen in front of him. You let out a small sigh as your lips pout with pity, pulling your chair even closer to his. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Jakey.” You told him as your hand made its way to his thigh, feeling it tense at the touch. You leaned your body towards his way “You know you can always ask me for help.” our hand moves upwards “Anytime.” You finished with a smile, leaving that last word floating in the air with an uncertain meaning. Jake’s breath got stuck in his throat and he felt the weight of the last word that left your lips. The gears in his head twisted and turned as he tried not to show how the way you were smiling up at him affected him.

You sat back straight in your chair, acting as if you didn’t know what effect you left on him. “Let's ge back to work, yeah?”

It had been a few hours since you started working. During the whole time you could see Jake squirming in his seat, maybe from the tension in the air, so thick that it could be could with a knife. With a sigh, you closed your laptop with a thud, your hands falling to your lap as you turned to look at Jake who seemed to avoid looking you in the eye.

“I guess this is all for today, Jakey.” You said smiling at him. “We can talk tomorrow in class and choose another day to meet again, maybe at my place next time, yeah?” You asked him as you started getting up from your seat, him doing the same. “Oh yeah, we can do that. I was about to finish this part as well so you’re all free to go.” You nodded at his words, your eyes subtly looking him up and down. His hands twitched in his sides. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Reaching his door, he opened it to let you out. You looked back at him one last time with a slight smirk. His cheeks warmed up and he swayed in his place, suddenly feeling awkward in the loud silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You said, now fully smiling. “See you, y/n.” Jake said not moving from his spot.

You walked away from his door, and as soon as you were out of sight, Jake moved to close the door, resting his back against it as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He brought his cold hands to his cheeks, trying to heat them down. He knew working with you wasn’t going to be an easy task.

This cycle of going back and forth between each other’s houses has been going on for a few weeks now and the project was almost done. The thick tension between you two every time you were together was undeniable and it had Jake feeling tense around you.

Ever since you pulled that thing the first time you went to his house, Jake could seem to fully focus when he was around you, always getting distracted by whatever you did. Even during classes, you seemed to purposely sit next to him, only to spend half of the time subtly touching the side of his leg and moving up to touch his tight. Jake was going crazy from your shenanigans and they were the only thing running through his mind when he laid in bed wide awake, head full of you and his hand running down from his tummy to where his body needed him the most.

It’s not like Jake never had sex or related activities, but he wasn’t the most experienced. He had only had sex with his ex and only serious girlfriend he had and it wasn’t anything too out of this world. He knew you’ve had your fair share of sexual encounters, he knew you had plenty of experience and he knew you were damn good at it because he has heard stories from the men you were with. If you asked him a long time ago, this wouldn’t bother Jake, but now, with all you’ve been doing to him, it makes him feel a bit insecure, because if your teasing escalates further he knows he could never compete with those men. But maybe that’s not what you think.

You were waiting for Jake since he was coming over to finish and wrap up the project. You had spent a good two hours in front of the mirror, trying to make yourself look more presentable for him, something you would never admit to anyone even if they paid you. It wasn’t too late but you could see the sun setting from the view in your window. You were about to check your phone when you heard the doorbell ring, meaning Jake had already arrived.

Walking towards the front door, you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before opening the door. “Hey, Jake! Come on in!” You said stepping aside so he could enter your house. “Hey, um, I brought some snacks, since it’s getting kinda late and I remembered you said you liked these so…” He trailed off, showing you two packs of your favourite snacks, making you surprised he even remembered that. “Oh my god, Jake! You definitely didn’t have to. Thank you, though!” You said smiling at him, his cheeks warming up as usual. “Anyways, let’s get started before it gets too late for you.”

The project was going smoothly since today you two were only doing the final touches and reviewing the whole thing. The dynamic between you and Jake today felt different. There were more lingering touches coming from him who you would accidentally touch his hand but he wouldn’t move away or flinch like he usually does. You were surprised that he acting this way, but you were definitely not complaining, you like this less conserved side of him.

You tried to focus on the text on your screen, but you couldn't help but let your eyes drift off to where Jake was sitting working on the powerpoint. It’s not like he didn’t look good any other day, but maybe it was the dim warm light in your room or maybe it was the moon shining from your window behind him, you weren’t exactly sure, but something about him today had him look so good and you couldn’t avoid the warm sensation in the bottom of your tummy that made your thighs press together.

Your inner turmoil was interrupted by Jake’s little sigh, making your eyes focus back on him. “I’m finished with this.” he said turning to look at you. “Do you need any help with that or…?” he trailed off. “Oh! Um no, I’m finished as well.” a thought came up to your head. “Can I check the powerpoint?” you asked leaning a little towards him. “Ah, yes, of course.” He answered, adjusting his glasses.

You pushed your chair closer to his, purposely making your thigh touch his. Jake felt his heart race when you got suddenly so close, the scent of your sweet yet intoxicating perfume invading his senses. His eyes drifted from your focused face down to your exposed neck, making him lick his dry lips as if to stop himself from letting his lips fall into its soft skin. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts of you out of his mind and maintain his composure.

“Well, this looks pretty good!” you said smiling at him, almost missing the way his eyes quickly fall from your eyes to your lips. “Oh, really? Thank y-” “You did such a good job, Jakey.” You interrupted him, as you let your hand fall on his thigh. His lips opened and closed as he tried to speak but no words came out. “You worked so hard on this.” your hand started moving up and down, making him tense up. “Think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” his eyes doubled in size as you spoke so softly, yet your words were filled with nothing but lust.

“Answer me, Jake.” you said, leaning closer to his face. “I- Yeah, please.” he answered, voice barely above a whisper. Your lips immediately connected to his, making him let out a low moan. His lips felt soft against yours, fitting almost like two pieces of a puzzle connecting. Your hand moved further upwards, now dangerously close to where his bulge was growing. His wands that were awkwardly laid by his side moved to lay on your hips, gripping them when he felt your tongue swiping against his bottom lips. He gave you access and you started exploring his mouth, tongues rubbing against each other, making both of you moan at each other’s tastes.

Kissing Jake felt heavenly, almost better than anyone you’ve kissed. It felt good to finally be the one leading. You felt so powerful with him writhing against you, yearning for more than just your kisses. You pulled away so both of you could catch your breath. Jake looked up at you, lidded eyes with a glow on them and his lips red and swollen from you biting on them occasionally. “Fuck, Jake. You look heavenly.” He only answered by chasing your lips, already missing the feeling of your lips on his. You pecked his lips before pulling away again, making him let out a whine. Your pussy throbbed at the sound, never had heard a man make such a beautiful sound, almost like a melody to you.

“Let’s move to the bed, yeah?” you asked breathlessly, making him nod eagerly. Both of you stumbled as you got off from your chairs, almost bumping into each other. Jake was the first one to lay in your bed, head hitting your soft pillows. You followed him, crawling in his way, until your legs were straddling his lap, sitting on it. You leaned down, taking his lips on your again. The kiss was messy and heated, both of you probably getting coated in spit but neither could care any less about the mess. His bulge felt delicious as it grew harder and harder below you, rubbing against your clothed core.

You grinded experimentally against his clothed member to which he let out a groan, feeling the heavenly friction of you against him. You kept slowly and teasingly grinding against him as your hands ran down from his face to his chest stopping by his nipples that felt hard against your fingertips. You pressed on them, his hips bucking up as he let out a yelp, not expecting the sudden stimulation. You smirked against him, pulling away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both. Your hands left his nipples to pull at the bottom of his shirt, indulging him to take it off. You stared at his toned torso, not expecting to see the lines on his abs, something you would deal with later.

Your mouth made its way to his neck, starting by kissing all over until you found his sweet spot. Your hands started moving back up again to his nipples, rubbing them, making him whine again as he grinded harder against you. “Never had your nipples played like this, Jakey?” you asked, pulling away from his neck “Tell me, baby. Do you like it?” he had his eyes closed and his brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to say. “F-fuck yes” he stuttered “Feels so good!” he said with a whine, making you smirk at his already fucked out state.

You lowered yourself, mouth moving to kiss from the dip in his chest, down to his abs, sucking on the area there, creating red marks all around. Your mouth kissed lower, following his happy trail until you reached the line of his pants. “Can I take this off, baby?” you asked him, pawing at the button. He nodded quicker than he would like to admit. “Need words, Jakey.” you demanded, wanting to hear him voice out his consent. “Yes, y/n, please, fuck”

With his green light, you started unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper. You tapped his hip, signalling him to raise them so you could take them off. He did as he was told and you pushed the jeans off, leaving him in just his boxers that already had a damp spot where the tip of his cock was. You stared at the bulge, already noticing that he was probably huge, making you feel a little nervous about fitting him in you. You squirmed in your spot, feeling an uncomfortable sticky feeling in your underwear, making you aware of how wet you were getting.

Jake whined, snapping you out of your thoughts, looking at you with eyes begging for you to touch him. You smiled at his helpless state “What d’you want, Jakey? Need you to speak or I won’t know.” He whined at your words, his brain feeling like a mush inside his head. “N-need you to touch it, please, just do something.” He answered, squirming in your bed as he felt more and more desperate. You didn’t say anything else as your hand moved to his bulge. Poor baby, was hard as a rock. It probably even hurt. You squeeze his length, pre cum escaping the tip and staining his boxers even more. “More, please! I need more,y/n!” he said with a whine.

You took some pity on him and your hands automatically moved to remove his boxers from him, cock hitting his stomach with a bounce, Fuck, he really was huge, and thick. A long vein ran from the base to the tip and you wanted nothing more than to do that. You lowered your mouth on his cock, licking up from the base until you reached the tip, engulfing it with your lips. You licked a stripe on the slit, making him groan at the delicious but almost overstimulating feeling. Your mouth moved down, taking almost his whole length. One of your hands wrapped around what you couldn’t fit, while the other moved to play with his balls, his hips bucking inside you making you gag around him.

The vision Jake had of you ass up and face down on his cock was what he hoped heaven looked like. Your mouth felt warm and heavenly and he already felt brain fucked. He had never felt such pleasure in his life and he just knew this was gonna be the suck of his life. He dared to look down again and his eyes met yours. He could bust right there and then with just the look you gave him. Your eyes were dark, pupils blown out, making him feel so powerless underneath you. His eyes closed shut when he felt you hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder.

You could tell he was close. His hips were twitching as well as his whole cock and you could feel him throb in your mouth. You removed his length out of your mouth and licked down to his balls, licking them as your hand moved to jerk him off at a quick pace. His breath was getting shorter as he felt his release come closer and closer. “Oh, f-fuck! Please, Please, y/n!” He didn’t even know what he was begging for, his whole body felt numb, except for the knot on his stomach getting tighter and tighter.

Your lips moved to suck on his tip as your hand kept jerking him up and down. His cock started twitching hard in your grip “y/n I-I’m gonna cum-!” His warm cum spurt inside your mouth, making you moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He was moaning loudly as he rode out his orgasms, chest heaving up and down quickly as he tried to keep breathing. You gave him one last hard suck, making him shudder in overstimulation.

You moved to eye level with him, hand moving up to brush his hair away from his face. “Such a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded in your hold, face flushed and eyes teary from his orgasm. Your lips met his, tongues instantly meeting. He could taste himself on you, making him groan as the bitter taste touched his buds. You pulled away from the kiss, sitting on him fully clothed. Your hands pulled at the hem of your top, taking it off and leaving your torso naked as you weren’t wearing a bra. Jake’s mouth gaped as he stared at your bare chest, hands twitching at his side, wanting to touch them.

“You can touch them, Jakey.” you smiled sweetly at him, showing him you were comfortable with whatever he wanted to do. He let out a shaky breath as his hands hesitated to travel to your chest. He held your boobs in his hand, fitting them perfectly in his calloused hands. He didn’t really know what to do so you moved your hands to hold his, moving his thumbs to rub and twist your hardened nipples. You quietly moaned at the feeling of his rough fingers touching your sensitive buds. You removed your hands from his, letting him experience you by himself. He pinched on your nipples, making you yelp in surprise. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt-” “Do it again.” you told him “W-What? Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “Yes, I liked it, Jakey. Was just surprised.” You answered, smiling at him.

His hands returned to your nipples pinching and rubbing them, making you clench around nothing. As much as you enjoyed the feeling you were getting impatient and needed to have him inside you as soon as possible. You grabbed his hands, taking them off of you as you stood up on the ground to take your bottoms off. You slowly pulled them down along with your panties. His eyes carefully watched as you stripped for him and him only.

You straddled him again, your pussy sitting right on top of his cock, making both of you moan at the feeling. Jake grabbed your hips up and sat against the headboard. “Wanted to have a better look at your face when you fuck me.” he said looking up at you with his puppy eyes. You were out of words so you cradled his face in your hands as you kissed him again. Your hips start moving as if on their own, rubbing our cunt against his length, making the tip bump against your clit. He whined inside your mouth as you swallowed his sounds.

You pulled away, hoisting your hips up as your hand grabbed his length and aligned the tip to your entrance. “W-wait!” he suddenly said making you stop in your movements. “Everything ok?” you asked worried that he might have been uncomfortable. “No, I just- You weren’t prepped and-” your lips clashing against his interrupted him, making him let out a protesting sound. “Don’t worry bout that, Jakey.” You simply said as you grabbed his length again positioning it on your gaping hole.

You slowly sink on him, your mouth opening in a silent moan while he whines in your ear, hands moving to circle your waist. You bottomed down and stayed still for a while to adjust to his big and thick size. The only thing heard was both of your heavy breaths. His hands were comfortingly rubbing up and down your back. When you felt ready you moved your head to look at him. “Ready?” you asked him and he nodded eagerly at you.

You started by slowly circling your hips around his length, both of you moaning at the euphoric feeling. He rested his head against your shoulder, panting in your ear. You circled your arms around his neck as you started to pick up your face. The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and the squelch coming from your pussy. “F-fuck, y/n! Never felt s-so good.” Jake whispered as he felt his eyes roll back at the feeling of your raw cunt moving on his hard cock. “Yeah? You’re filling me up so good, Jakey. Even let you go in me raw.” You grabbed his head to make him look at you. His eyes were low and he had drool almost dripping out of the corners of his open mouth.

You moved around him at a now stable pace, moaning loudly when the tip of cock found the spongy spot inside you. “F-fuck, Jake!” he was stretching you out so good, taking you to cloud 9. You looked back at him, his head leaning back on the headboard, completely fucked out. “Look at you.” you said making him open his eyes, barely keeping them from closing again. “Fucked you dumb, didn’t I?” he nodded even though you weren’t really looking for an answer. “Poor baby, just wanted to be a good boy for someone, isn’t that right, Jakey?” he whined at your words, knowing they were fully true so he nodded his head as his eyes got even more teary, one tear even dropping out. You laughed at his state, knowing he had nothing on his brain but your pussy.

You felt the too-familiar pressure on your tummy starting to build up and his cock twitching again. You bottomed out on him again, grinding your hips down on him as you tried to reach your climax. “Oh God! I’m getting close, Jakey.” you said in a whiny moan” You’re gonna cum with me, yeah?” you felt his cock twitch harder inside you as he nodded at your question, wanting to fulfil your request. Your breath was getting laboured but you tried to maintain your composure for him.

Jake could feel you clench around him, knowing you were almost reaching your high. He slowly moved his hand from your waist to where your bodies met, rubbing on your clit. You let out a surprised yelp as you squeezed hard against him, eyes widening at the unexpected contact. “F-Fuck, Jake!” you said breathing heavily. “You make me feel so good.” Both of your lips met, desperately trying to reach both of your releases. You grinded faster on him, now moaning in sync against each other mouths. His finger rubbed faster on your swallowed nub, making your head spin as you threw it back.

“J-Jakey, I’m so close!” you said as you felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. “Me too, f-fuck!” His hips started slightly bucking upwards, trying to match with your movements. Your synced movements had you moaning loudly, not even caring if you’re gonna get complaints from your neighbours later. The sound of Jake’s whines getting louder along with the frequent twitching of his cock indicated that he was just as close as you. You sped up your movements as you felt the knot in your tummy about to burst.

“J-Jake, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cu-” you were cut off by your orgasm, almost stopping in your movements with a silent scream. The feeling of your juices releasing against his cock had Jake cumming right after you with a loud whine. The aggressive twitching of his cock along with the feeling of his warm seeds painting your insides felt heavenly. You looked down to see a white ring form around his length, slowly moving up and down as you rode both of your orgasms out.

Your heads rested against each others’ shoulders as you stayed like that for a while, you with the feeling of his hands rubbing shapes on your back soothingly. The sound of both of your panting filled the silent room. The sound of traffic could also be heard from outside and it made you go back to your senses. You got your head up, urging Jake to do the same. You pulled him in one last kiss before you pulled his length out of you, making both of you hiss. You got up and walked towards the bathroom to grab a washcloth. You cleaned yourself up first before going back and cleaning his length for him. He shook from still being sensitive, making you chuckle at him.

You tossed the cloth onto the ground and laid next to him, sighing happily when your head hit the comfort of your pillows. Your hand rested on his chest rubbing circles on it as you simply looked at his peaceful state. The silence in the room wasn’t uncomfortable and you felt like you both made a silent rule of not talking about what happened. He grabbed your hand from his chest and gave it a kiss. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He said as he felt his cheeks warm up. You chuckle and prop your head on your hand to get a better view of him.

“Well, thank me when we get a good grade. This was my thanks in advance.” You said, making both of you laugh. “Yeah, maybe I’ll be the one rewarding you next time.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen sim jaeyun #enhypen sim jake #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake x you #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jaeyun #jake smut #sim jake smut #sim jake x reader

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snowysosturn · 3 months ago

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Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 15

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

Matt finishes up his shots, handing the jacket off to Chris before running a hand through his hair.

I take that as my cue, slipping my own jacket on. Just as I’m adjusting the sleeves, Matt starts walking toward me. My pulse skips slightly, but I force myself to act normal.

"Nice jacket" I say, my voice light, playful. I tug at the sleeve for emphasis. "We’re twinning."

He follows my motion, then looks back at his own. For a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his expression, something almost unreadable, before he smirks. "Yeah, guess so."

I tilt my head, raising a brow. "Trying to be me now?"

Matt huffs a short laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, this was all Chris. Maybe he wanted to show it was unisex or something, I don’t know." His tone is easygoing, dismissive, like the whole thing didn’t really matter.

Something in me sinks slightly. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe some kind of confirmation that there was a meaning behind it. That it wasn’t just a coincidence. That he had chosen it intentionally. But I nod, forcing myself to brush it off, not wanting to read too much into it.

Before I can say anything else, Nick, who had clearly been listening, steps in. "Okay, well, since you two are basically in matching outfits, you should get some pictures together."

I blink, glancing at Matt, who looks just as thrown off by the suggestion. He hesitates for a split second, then shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Chris, already looking back at photos, gives an approving nod. "Yeah, that could be cool. Matt stand behind Y/n."

I swallow, suddenly more aware of the way my jacket feels against my skin, the way Matt's standing just close enough for our sleeves to almost touch. I nod, stepping forward, trying to ignore the way my heart is beating.

We start taking photos, the fading sun casting a golden hour glow over everything. We take turns, everyone gets their solo shots, duo shots in turns between the boys then some of just Chris, Matt and Nick together. There’s small moments, genuine laughter caught between shots.

At one point, Chris calls me over, gesturing for me to stand beside him. "Let’s get some together" he says, adjusting his hoodie. It would be nice for both of us to have photos together, considering how hard we've worked on this.

By the time we’re done, the sky is a deep navy blue. We huddle around, flicking through the photos. The excitement is evident, everyone’s happy with how they turned out.

Chris straightens up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright" he announces, a grin stretching across his face. "I say we celebrate."

Nick smirks. "You just want an excuse to go drinking."

Chris shrugs. "Yeah, and?"

We all laugh, the energy still buzzing in the air as we gather our things. The beach is still calm and quiet with the sounds of distant music playing from the bars lining the shore. We make our way up to the strip and walk into a lively sports bar.

Chris makes his way over to the bar and orders a round of drinks, effortlessly charming the bartender as he waits. Meanwhile, the rest of us find a table near the open air area, where there's a light breeze.

I decide to make my way to the bar, stepping up beside Chris. “I’ll help you carry them” I offer, reaching for a couple of glasses.

He flashes me a grateful smile. “Thanks” he says, passing two drinks to me. “Man, I’m so happy with how everything turned out. The photos, the jackets, everything.”

I smirk, nudging him playfully. “Even Matt’s jacket?”

Chris raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, don’t act clueless. His is basically identical to mine, my initial, my favorite number. You trying to make us twins or something?” I tease, though there’s an edge of curiosity in my tone.

Chris looks at me for a moment, confused. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he says, “I didn’t do that.”

My head snaps towards Chris. “What?”

“I didn’t pick Matt’s design” Chris explains, grabbing the last drink. “He sat with me when I was placing the order back in Vegas. I had already filled in everyone else’s details, but he got to choose his own.”

The words hit me like a slow motion realization, the pieces falling into place one by one.

Matt chose it himself.

The same initial. The same number. On purpose. And he played it off.

I swallow, my fingers tightening slightly around the glasses in my hand. My heart thumping in my chest. Chris is still talking, but his voice fades into the background as my mind races. I don’t even know how to feel, shocked? Conflicted? Something deeper?

Chris finally glances over at me, noticing the shift in my expression. “You good?”

I snap back to reality, forcing a small smile. “Yeah,” I lie. “Just.. taking the whole night in.”

Chris doesn’t question it, just shrugs before nodding toward the table. “Come on, let’s bring these over.”

I follow, but my mind is elsewhere.

Matt did it on purpose.

And I have no idea what that means.

As we set the drinks down on our table, I sneak a glance across at Matt. He’s leaned back in his chair, talking to Nate about something. My His jacket rests against the chair beside him, the initial and number staring back at me like some kind of silent confession.

I try my best to brush it off and we fall into easy conversation within the group. Chris and Nate get another round of drinks, sliding them across the table. The energy between us is nice, everyone is buzzing after a successful shoot and the anticipation of whatever the night might bring.

Chris grins as he leans back in his chair. “I mean, tell me that wasn’t one of the cleanest shoots we’ve ever done. No arguments, no disasters.. kinda feels wrong.”

Nate laughs. “It’s because I was there. Everything runs smoother when I’m around.”

Matt snorts, taking a sip of his drink. “Yeah, okay, let’s not rewrite history. Weren’t you the one who knocked over a whole light stand last time and blamed it on the wind?”

Nate places a hand on his chest, replying in defense. “It was the wind. A strong gust. Nature conspired against me.”

Chris shakes his head. “The only thing working against you is your own coordination.”

I laugh, settling back in my chair as the teasing continues. It’s easy like this, the kind of comfort that only comes from knowing each other for so long.

Nick pulled up some of the photos on his phone. He slides it across the table, and everyone leans in to look.

“Oh, this one’s sick” Matt says, tapping the screen. “But I feel like Y/n should’ve gotten the solo shot standing on the rocks instead of me.”

I raise an eyebrow. “So you’re admitting I would’ve done it better?”

He tilts his head, pretending to think. “Mmm, not exactly. Just saying your balance is probably better, considering I nearly fell to my death up there.”

“You tripped once.”

“And it was a near death experience.”

Nick laughs. “Guy swayed a little and saw his life flash before his eyes.”

“I felt myself falling, kid” Matt insists, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t expect you guys to understand.”

I roll my eyes, reaching over to take the phone from him. “Anyway, let’s look at other pictures before this turns into the Matt Survival Story.”

The night continues like that, joking and teasing. The drinks kept coming, round after round, and at some point, I stopped keeping track. The buzz in my head was fun, my limbs loose, and the laughter around the table made me feel nice.

Chris, clearly feeling it too, leaned forward suddenly, eyes wide with a drunken revelation. “You know what sounds unreal right now?”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “Enlighten us.”

“Churro’s.” Chris declared, as if he’d just discovered the meaning of life. “Like, really good, proper churros. There’s gotta be a spot somewhere on this strip.”

Nick laughed, swirling the last bit of his drink in his glass before setting it down with a clink. “That actually doesn’t sound like the worst idea. Wanna walk and see what’s around?”

Chris nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah.”

Nate stretched, already pushing himself up from his chair. “Might as well. I could go for something sweet.”

I expected Matt to get up too, but he stayed seated, nursing his drink with an unreadable expression.

Nick glanced between us before shrugging. “You guys staying?”

Matt barely looked up. “Yeah, we’re good here.”

Chris wiggled his eyebrows at us like he knew something we didn’t before nudging Nate to move. “Alright, suit yourselves. Don’t get too bored without us.”

With that, the three of them wandered off, their voices carrying over the music and street noise before fading into the night.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling as I swirled my straw in my drink. The silence between Matt and I stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was.. easy.

“You’re holding up well” he commented, nodding toward my glass. “Thought you’d be slurring by now.”

I smirked, tilting my head. “So you underestimated me?”

“Never” he said smoothly, a small grin forming on his lips. “I just figured you’d be the responsible one tonight.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m on vacation. Responsibility is not in my vocabulary right now.”

Matt raised his glass slightly, as if to toast to that. “Fair enough.”

We both took a sip, the air between us charged with this weird tension, a different tension to normal, something neither of us seemed in a rush to address.

Matt set his drink down, leaning forward slightly, his elbow resting on the table. His eyes, a little lazy from the alcohol, flickered with something unreadable.

“So, if responsibility isn’t in your vocabulary right now” he smirked, “what is?”

I smirked, continuing to swirl my straw in my glass. “Recklessness, maybe. Spontaneity.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Spontaneity, huh? That’s a dangerous game.”

I tilted my head, meeting his gaze. “Maybe I like a little danger.”

A slow grin spread across his face. “Yeah?” He leaned in slightly. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

I took a sip of my drink, letting the ice clink together. “And here I was, thinking I was predictable.”

He shook his head, studying me like he was trying to figure me out. “Not even close.”

Before I could respond, Nick’s voice cut through the moment, his energy a stark contrast to our quiet exchange.

“Guys!” he said, slightly breathless, plopping down into a chair, “we just found something way better than this place.”

Chris and Nate sat down beside him, both grinning.

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Better how?”

Nick leaned forward, excitement clear in his face. “There’s a bar at the end of the street with a full on drag show happening. It looks insane.”

Chris nodded enthusiastically. “We’re talking full performances, outfits, the whole thing. You guys down?”

I glanced at Matt, whose lips twitched into an amused smirk.

“Well” he said, looking at me, “since you’re in your spontaneity era…”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t even like using the term era”

Nick grinned, slapping the table. “That’s the spirit. Let’s get out of here.”

Matt lingered at my side, as we stumbled down the strip and into bar. The place is alive, bright neon lights, a shimmering backdrop behind the stage, and a drag queen in a sequined bodysuit commanding the crowd. She’s scanning the room, mic in hand, looking for her next victims to drag onstage.

Before I even have a chance to process what’s happening, Nick’s hand clasps around mine.

“Oh no” I start, shaking my head, but it’s too late.

“You know we have to do this.” he grins, practically dragging me toward the stage.

Chris, Nate, and Matt cheer from the table, egging us on like we have a choice in the matter. I laugh, half in protest, but I already know what’s about to happen.

Nick’s been dying to perform Alter Ego ever since we watched Crystal Envy and Lexi Love lip sync to it on Drag Race. And now, here we are, center stage, spotlights on us.

The beat drops, and suddenly, Nick transforms. He throws himself into the performance, rapping along flawlessly, hyping up the crowd, while I do my best to keep up, dancing and laughing through the whole thing. The drag queen is eating it up, hyping us both as if we were seasoned performers.

By the time the song ends, we’re completely breathless, and for once I’m not embarrassed by all of the attention. The drag queen dramatically bows to us, then gestures to the bartender.

“Now that is how you commit to the bit” she says into the mic. “Drinks are on the house for these two.”

We walk back to our table, joining back with the others when a tray of free shots is handed to us.

Chris whistles from the table. “I mean, if free drinks are involved, I might have to hit the stage next.”

Matt shakes his head, chuckling as I sit down.

“You really went for it” he says, impressed.

I grab a shot from the tray, still catching my breath. “What can I say? Spontaneity, remember?”

He raises his glass, smirking. “Guess you weren’t lying.”

I clink my glass against his before throwing back the shot, the burn of alcohol mixing with the rush of the night so far.

The warmth of the alcohol spreads through my body all at once, a delayed hit that makes my head spin slightly. The mix of adrenaline from the performance and the lingering buzz leaves me feeling lightheaded. My skin is still damp with sweat, a mix from dancing under the lights and the Hawaiian heat.

I set my empty shot glass down and push back from the table. “I need some air” I mumble, mostly to myself, but Matt’s eyes flick toward me for a second before I turn away.

Stepping outside, the slight breeze feels cool against my overheated skin. I exhale, running a hand through my hair, trying to steady the rush in my head. So much has happened in just the past 24 hours. Getting my locket back, the jacket, the way he looked at me earlier, the teasing, the tension.

It was a very different side of Matt that I wasn’t used to.

I lean against the side of the building, staring down at my heels, my thoughts spinning faster than they should. Maybe I’ve been looking at this all wrong. Maybe Matt isn’t just Matt, the frustrating, teasing, sometimes unbearable guy in our group.

Maybe he’s the guy who went out of his way to do something meaningful for me. The guy who gets jealous when I give someone else my attention. The guy who’s been watching me just as much as I’ve been watching him.

And maybe he likes me. And maybe I like him too.

I heard the sound of the side door to the bar swinging open behind me, catching my attention. I turn to see Matt walking toward me.

“You good?” His voice is softer than usual, lacking its usual teasing edge.

I glance at him standing there with his hands in his pockets, watching me. The concern in his eyes is subtle, but it’s there.

“Yeah” I say, offering a small smile. “Just a bit warm. And very drunk.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Yeah, no shit. You and Nick just put on a whole damn concert in there.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “He’s been waiting for that moment.”

Matt smirks but then tilts his head slightly, considering me. “You wanna go for a walk on the beach or something? Might make you feel better.”

I hesitate for a second, but something about the way he’s looking at me makes it impossible to say no.

“Yeah” I say. “That sounds nice.”

We head down toward the sand, the noise from the strip fading as the waves take over and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Matt walks beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, but there’s an ease to his posture. “So” he starts, a teasing lilt creeping back into his voice, “you gonna add karaoke connoisseur to your resume after that performance?”

I roll my eyes but laugh. “Oh, absolutely. Gonna start touring next week.”

He grins. “I’d buy tickets.”

I nudge him playfully. “You’d probably take the piss out of me the whole time.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, biting back a smirk. “Or maybe I’d just sit front row and admire the view.”

I feel my stomach flip at his words, and suddenly the air between us feels differen again. Even more intense. My steps slow just slightly, and he matches my pace.

“You’re such a flirt” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

Matt smirks. “And yet, you’re still walking with me.”

I shake my head, trying not to smile, but I know he sees right through me. The alcohol has made me bold, but maybe it’s not just the drinks. Maybe it’s him.

We keep walking, the conversation flowing like we never hated each other. Playful. Teasing.

I laugh at something he says, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins, nudging me lightly with his shoulder. “And yet, you love it.”

I roll my eyes but don’t deny it. Before I can think of a comeback, my heel suddenly sinks too deep into the sand, throwing me off balance. I stumble to the side, my hands instinctively reaching out.

Matt reacts fast, catching me before I fall to the ground. One arm wraps firmly around my waist, steadying me, while the other grips my hand. The warmth of his touch against me sends a jolt through me, and I realize just how close we are, his face only inches from mine, his breath grazing over my cheek.

“Damn” he laughs, holding me upright. “You good?”

I grip his forearm, steadying myself. “Yeah, just, heels and sand? Not a great mix" I say, trying to play it cool. "And to think you were suggesting that I should’ve been up on the rocks earlier.”

Matt smirks, but instead of saying anything witty back, he suddenly crouches down in front of me.

I blink. “What are you-”

“Relax” he murmurs, fingers already working at the straps of my heels. “You’re gonna break an ankle trying to walk in these out here We don't need any more ankle problems.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the way he carefully unbuckles each strap, sliding the shoes off my feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world, has my brain rewiring itself.

Once he’s done, he stands, holding my heels in one hand. “There. Now you won’t have an excuse to fall into my arms again.”

I cross my arms, scoffing at him. “I didn’t mean to fall into your arms.”

Matt tilts his head, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He grins. “And yet, you’re still walking with me.”

I bite my lip to keep from smiling too much, but I know he sees it. He always does. I bump my shoulder against his playfully. “You know, you don’t have to carry my shoes. I am capable of holding things.”

He smirks. “Yeah, but then what excuse would I have to be a gentleman?”

I laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, so you’re a gentleman now?”

Matt raises an eyebrow, stopping in his tracks.

“I mean” he says, looking down at me, “I did just save you from eating sand. That’s got to count for something.”

I glance up at him, my heart racing, but I play it cool. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I let myself fall on purpose.” I say sarcastically.

His lips curve into a slow, knowing smirk. “Oh yeah? You wanted me to catch you?”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “Don’t flatter yourself, Sturniolo.”

“Oh, so we’re using last names now?” He steps closer to me. “Careful, that’s dangerously close to flirting.”

“Please, if I was flirting, you’d know it.”

“Would I?”

I exhale, feeling my stomach flip. He’s so damn cocky, but I can’t even pretend I don’t love it.

I tilt my chin up defiantly, a slow grin spreading across my lips. “Mhm.”

My heart is racing. I can feel the alcohol in my veins, but this, this moment, is all me. No liquid courage, no overthinking. Just me and him.

I step closer, tilting my head slightly, my body moving on instinct. My mind is made up. I want to close the distance. I want him.

I lean in.

But just as my lips are about to brush his, Matt turns his head.

“We should head back.” His voice is quiet, almost strained.

I freeze.

The rejection slaps me across the face. I pull back quickly, my face heating in a way that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

I swallow hard, forcing a nod. “Yeah.. yeah, okay.”

Matt shifts awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. His usual cocky demeanor is gone, replaced by something I can’t quite read. Guilt? Hesitation?

I don’t wait to figure it out. I turn on my heel and start walking back toward the bar, my arms crossed tightly over my chest.

My stomach twists uncomfortably. How did I get it so wrong? The way he looked at me, the way he held my waist, the way he played into everything, was it just in my head?

I don’t know.

But what I do know is that I just made a move.. and Matt Sturniolo didn’t want me back.

a/n : i would run into the ocean and never return if i got rejected like that

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

#snowy speaks #fire & desire #snowys sturniolo series #snowys series #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #enemies to lovers #matt sturniolo fanfic

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evermoreness · 2 months ago

Note

ok girly I have no idea why but I need angist rn. so

what do you personally think the story would go if barty or regulus had to watch reader be tortured by death eaters (their own family) and what would the final out come be?

— Thank you for the amazing prompt, i loved writing it! Hope you like it! @msfandomsblog

secrets | regulus black - barty crouch jr.

pairing: regulus black x barty crouch jr. x reader

summary: you are working undercover for the order of the phoenix but things take a turn when your boyfriends, proud death eaters, discover how much danger you're in.

warnings: angsty, sad, mentions of blood purity, torture, blood, death and swearing.

obs: feel free to send your request!

masterlist

The first time you, Regulus, and Barty had been seen together, it had sent shockwaves through Hogwarts. The ever-composed, brooding Black heir and the unhinged, sharp-tongued prodigy of the Crouch family—both utterly devoted to you.

It had started as a game of wits. Barty loved a challenge, and Regulus enjoyed the quiet thrill of being underestimated. You had simply walked into their world with a smirk and sharp tongue, meeting their teasing and sarcasm with equal fire. Somehow, that had turned into late-night meetings in the Astronomy Tower, stolen kisses in the library, and whispered confessions between hex duels.

Regulus was the calm in the storm, his fingers always gentle when they brushed against your skin, his words measured and thoughtful. He would read to you on quiet nights, his voice a low murmur against the crackling fire, while Barty lay with his head in your lap, grinning as he plotted mayhem for the next day. Barty, for all his chaos and sharp edges, was fiercely protective, with a gaze that burned whenever someone dared to look at you the wrong way. He had a habit of pulling you against him, smirking down at you like you were the best-kept secret of his life.

The three of you were a paradox that shouldn’t have worked, yet it did.

The years passed, the war was creeping into every part of your lives. It slithered into the quiet moments, the laughter, the stolen kisses. It wrapped itself around your wrists like the Dark Mark, a constant, suffocating reminder of the choices they had made.

Regulus, Barty, and you had all taken the Mark—because what else was there? A refusal meant death, meant dishonor, meant betrayal of the very blood that ran through your veins. And so, you played the part well.

But Regulus was watching you.

At first, it was just a feeling. Something about the way you never seemed comfortable in the meetings. You didn’t speak with the same conviction as Barty, who thrived in the chaos of war. You didn’t look at the Dark Lord with the same reverence as the others. And then there were the small things—the way you flinched when Bellatrix praised a particularly gruesome mission, the way your fingers curled into your palms whenever the word "Mudblood" was thrown around carelessly.

Regulus noticed everything.

But he said nothing. Not yet.

One night, as the three of you sat in your living room, away from the prying eyes of other Death Eaters, Barty was ranting about a recent mission. His eyes were alight with excitement, his hands moving wildly as he spoke.

"And then you should have seen how he begged," Barty said, smirking. "Pathetic, really. I almost felt bad for the poor bastard."

You were staring at the fire, your fingers curled against your palm. "Almost," you murmured.

Barty glanced at you, grinning. "Come on, love, don’t tell me you’re getting all soft on me."

You forced a smirk, playing along like always. "Hardly. Just thinking about how easily that could be any one of us if we weren’t born pure enough."

Barty laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, I love when you get all philosophical on me." He leaned in, brushing a kiss against your temple. "But don’t overthink it, yeah? We’re winning. That’s what matters."

You hummed, nodding. But Regulus saw through you.

Later that night, when Barty had fallen asleep in the armchair across from the fire, Regulus pulled you aside. His grip was gentle but firm as he took your hand, leading you to the farthest corner of the room.

"You don’t believe in this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You froze.

"What?"

Regulus exhaled, his grey eyes searching yours. "You don’t believe in the cause."

Your heart pounded. "Reg, that’s ridiculous. Of course, I—"

"Don’t lie to me," he interrupted, his tone sharper now. He leaned in, his fingers tightening around yours. "I know you, Y/N. I’ve seen the way you look at them. The way you flinch when they talk about—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Why are you here?"

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. "Because we don’t have a choice."

Regulus studied you for a long moment. "No," he said quietly. "Because you’re hiding something."

You didn’t answer. Because what could you say? That he was right? That while he and Barty were blindly loyal to the Dark Lord, you had been sneaking off, feeding the Order information? That every time you put on the mask and followed orders, you felt like you were suffocating?

Regulus’ voice was softer now. "Tell me the truth."

You took a shaky breath. "I can’t."

His jaw tightened. "Then I’ll find it myself."

And with that, he turned, leaving you standing there, heart hammering against your ribs.

Days passed, and Regulus was unraveling.

He knew you were keeping something from him—something big. And whatever it was, it was dangerous.

He could see it in the way your shoulders tensed when certain names were mentioned at meetings, in the way your hands trembled ever so slightly after a mission, in the way you lingered at the edges of conversations instead of throwing yourself into them like Barty did.

Barty didn’t notice, of course. He was too busy basking in the thrill of war, too caught up in the chaos to see what Regulus did.

But Regulus?

He saw everything.

And it was driving him mad.

He didn’t say a word to Barty. Not yet. If he confronted you and was wrong, it could put you in danger. If he was right—which he was sure he was—then he had no idea what the hell he was going to do.

So, he watched. He waited. And the more he saw, the more the truth clawed at his chest, making it harder to breathe.

Then, one night, he’d had enough.

You were alone in the living room, sitting by the fire with a book in your lap, though you weren’t reading it. Your mind was elsewhere. It had to be—you had just returned from a secret meeting with the Order, slipping back into the house under the cover of night, your pulse still racing from the risk of it all.

You should have gone to bed. Should have buried yourself beneath your blankets and pretended—like you always did—that everything was fine.

But you didn’t get the chance.

Because Regulus found you.

"You’re going to get yourself killed," his voice was quiet but sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

You looked up, heart skipping a beat at the sight of him standing in the dim glow of the fire. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, his stormy grey eyes locked onto yours with something dangerous brewing behind them.

For a split second, you considered pretending you didn’t know what he was talking about.

But the look on his face told you there was no use in lying.

"Reg—"

He took a step closer, his voice strained. "Do you have any idea how reckless you’re being?"

Your fingers curled around the pages of your book. "I don’t know what—"

"Stop it." His voice wavered, just slightly. "Don’t lie to me."

You sucked in a breath.

He sat down beside you, but there was no warmth between you this time, only tension so thick it was suffocating. His fingers were twitching against his knee, a nervous habit he rarely let anyone see.

"Tell me the truth," he said. "Please."

You looked away. "I can’t."

Regulus let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his dark curls. "I knew it," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I knew something was wrong, but I thought—" He exhaled shakily, shaking his head. "You don’t believe in any of this, do you?"

You didn’t answer.

That was answer enough.

Regulus let out a humorless laugh, leaning back against the couch. "Of course. Of course you don’t." He turned his head toward you, his eyes burning. "Then why are you still here?"

Your throat tightened. "Because I have to be."

"That’s not good enough."

You turned to face him fully, your pulse hammering. "What do you want me to say, Regulus? That I think this war is a nightmare? That I hate every single second of pretending I stand for something I despise? That every time I watch you and Barty throw yourselves into this, I feel like I’m losing you both?" Your voice cracked on the last words, and you bit the inside of your cheek hard.

Regulus flinched.

"You’re—" His voice caught, and he swallowed hard. "You’re working against us."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

You inhaled sharply. "I’m trying to stop something that I know will destroy us all."

Regulus closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing shallow. "And if the Dark Lord finds out?" His voice was soft now, almost fragile.

You hesitated. "Then I die."

His eyes snapped open, and for the first time since this conversation started, there was something like fear in them.

"You can’t do this," he whispered. "Y/N, if they even suspect—"

"They don’t," you cut in quickly. "No one does."

Regulus stared at you, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked painful. "I do."

Silence.

A long, unbearable silence.

Then, finally, he spoke again.

"I should turn you in."

You stiffened.

"But you won’t."

Regulus swallowed, his hand flexing at his side. "No," he admitted, voice hoarse. "I won’t."

Your chest ached at the conflict written all over his face.

"You don’t have to believe in this either, you know," you said gently.

He let out a bitter laugh. "It’s not that simple."

"Yes, it is," you whispered.

Regulus turned his face toward you, his gaze flickering to your lips before settling back on your eyes. For a moment, he looked like he might say something—something important, something real—but then, instead, he reached out and cupped your face, his fingers barely trembling.

"You’re a fool," he murmured.

"So are you," you whispered back.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t desperate or hurried—it was slow, lingering, like he was memorizing the feel of you in case this was the last time.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath uneven.

"I’m going to lose you," he said. It was a fact.

You closed your eyes, your fingers curling around the front of his robes. "Not yet."

Regulus exhaled shakily, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back completely. He looked at you for a long time, as if trying to burn the image of you into his memory.

Then, without another word, he stood up and walked away.

You watched him go, knowing that, after tonight, nothing would ever be the same.

Regulus didn’t sleep that night.

He sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor while his mind spun in endless circles.

You were risking everything. Everything.

And the worst part?

He knew you were right.

He had known for a long time that Voldemort wasn’t a leader to be followed—he was a tyrant, a monster. The things he demanded, the cruelty he enjoyed—Regulus had seen enough to know that this was not the future he wanted. But still, he had stayed. Out of fear. Out of duty. Out of some warped sense of inevitability.

And now, you were standing against it.

And he was too much of a coward to do the same.

He clenched his fists, breathing heavily.

He hated himself for it.

But more than anything, he was afraid. Afraid for you. Because if Voldemort ever found out—if even the wrong person suspected—you’d be dead before you had the chance to defend yourself.

And he—God help him—he wouldn’t survive that.

Something had changed.

Barty was growing restless.

He wasn’t stupid—he saw things.

The way you and Regulus had become something else—something charged, something that teetered between love and fury. The whispers, the stolen glances, the tension so thick it made his skin crawl.

He didn’t get it.

You and Regulus had always been close, but now? Now it felt like there was something unspoken between you, something he wasn’t a part of. And Barty hated being left out.

One evening, as the three of you sat in the living room, Barty was watching the two of you like a predator studying prey.

Regulus was seated beside you on the couch, but he wasn’t touching you. That was the first thing Barty noticed. He always touched you, even in the smallest ways—a hand on your knee, fingers tracing your wrist. But now? Nothing. He was sitting stiffly, arms crossed, jaw clenched, like there was a war raging inside of him.

You were no better. You kept sneaking glances at him, your brows knitting together in frustration, your lips parting as if you wanted to say something but didn’t.

Barty leaned back in his chair, tilting his head. "Alright," he drawled, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "What the hell is going on?"

You blinked, turning to him. "What?"

"Don’t play dumb, love," Barty said, his voice almost teasing, but there was something sharp beneath it. "You two have been acting weird. Whispering, staring, fighting without actually fighting—what is it? Did Regulus forget your birthday? Did you finally tell him you like me more?" He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Regulus exhaled through his nose. "Drop it, Barty."

"Oh, I don’t think I will," Barty shot back. His smirk widened, but his eyes glinted dangerously. "Because I’m starting to think you two are keeping secrets from me."

You forced a scoff. "Oh, please. What, do you think we’re plotting against you?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time," he said. "But no, I don’t think it’s that." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "See, I’ve been watching you two. And whatever this is—" he gestured between you and Regulus "—it’s not normal."

Regulus’ jaw clenched. "There’s nothing—"

"Yes, there is," Barty cut in sharply. His gaze flickered between the two of you, and for the first time, there was something like hurt beneath his usual bravado. "When did I become the third wheel?"

You inhaled slowly. "Barty—"

"Don’t," he said, his voice tight. "Just tell me what’s going on."

Silence.

Regulus was looking at the fire, his profile cast in flickering gold. He looked tired.

Barty’s expression darkened. "You know, whatever this thing is, it’s starting to piss me off."

Regulus let out a sharp breath, finally turning to look at him. "Not everything is about you, Barty."

"Oh, fuck off, Reg" Barty snapped. "Don’t pull that on me. If you two are going to keep secrets, at least have the decency to lie to me properly."

Regulus stared at him for a long moment, then stood abruptly. "I’m going to bed."

Barty let out a bitter laugh. "Of course you are."

Regulus ignored him, turning on his heel and stalking toward the dorms.

Barty turned to you. "Well?"

You hesitated. "I… can’t tell you."

Barty’s lips parted slightly, his expression twisting. "Why?"

You swallowed hard. "Because it’s not something you can know."

His jaw ticked. "That’s bullshit, and you know it."

You closed your eyes, inhaling shakily. "I’m sorry, Barty."

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a response.

He just stood there, staring at you, his fingers curled into fists at his sides. Then, without another word, he turned and left, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

And just like that, the cracks in your carefully built world grew wider.

Fractured bonds.

The tension between the three of you was unbearable.

Days had passed, but it felt like years. Your relationship was holding on by a thread, fragile and stretched too thin.

It was like walking on broken glass—painful, dangerous, and yet none of you could step away.

One moment, there was anger—shouting, sharp words, accusations that cut too deep. The next, there was longing—a desperate need to hold on, to kiss, to pretend that none of this was happening. It was a cycle, a vicious one, but one none of you had the strength to break.

You knew Regulus was still watching you, studying you with that sharp, knowing gaze. And Barty? Barty was unpredictable. One second, he was angry, bitter, pushing you and Regulus away—then the next, he was pulling you both back in, acting as if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

And tonight, it all came crashing down.

The three of you were in your room.

A storm raged outside, rattling the windows, but the storm inside the room was far worse.

"You’re lying to us," Barty snapped, his voice laced with frustration as he paced the room. His fingers twitched at his sides, the way they always did when he was on edge. "You’re both lying to me."

"Barty—" you started, but he cut you off with a sharp glare.

"Don’t," he hissed. "I don’t want more excuses, I don’t want more half-truths. I want the fucking truth."

Regulus was standing by the fireplace, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But you could see the way his jaw was clenched, the way his fingers dug into his own arms like he was holding himself back.

"There’s nothing to tell," Regulus finally said, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Barty let out a bitter laugh. "Right. Because you two sneaking around, whispering behind my back, looking at each other like you’re going to shatter any second—that’s normal?"

"Barty, please," you tried, stepping toward him, but he stepped back.

His eyes burned into yours. "Don’t do that," he said lowly. "Don’t act like I’m the problem here."

Regulus exhaled sharply. "You’re not."

"Then tell me what’s going on," Barty snapped, turning on him.

Regulus hesitated. Just for a moment.

And that was enough.

Barty let out another sharp laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t trust me," he said, voice quieter this time. "After everything. You don’t trust me."

Your chest ached. "It’s not about trust—"

Barty scoffed. "Of course it is," he said bitterly. "Regulus barely looks at me anymore, you only talk to me when you have to, and I’m supposed to believe that everything is fine?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I’m not stupid."

"Then why are you making this harder than it already is?" Regulus said suddenly, voice tight.

Barty’s head snapped toward him. "I’m making it harder?" he repeated, incredulous.

Regulus let out a sharp breath. "You think I don’t know what this is doing to us? You think I don’t know that everything is falling apart?" His voice cracked slightly at the end, and that alone made your stomach twist. "I don’t need you to remind me."

Silence filled the room.

Barty’s expression flickered—just for a second. Then, just as quickly, he covered it with anger.

"Then fix it," he said. His voice wasn’t loud anymore. It was quiet, almost pleading. "Fix it before we lose this."

Regulus inhaled shakily, but he didn’t answer.

And neither did you.

Because deep down, you both knew—this wasn’t something that could be fixed.

Not when you were still lying to them.

Not when the war was getting closer, tearing you in different directions.

Not when you were all breaking apart and couldn’t find a way to hold on.

But despite it all—despite the anger, the pain, the lies—Barty still stepped closer.

The silence stretched between the three of you, thick and suffocating.

Regulus wasn’t looking at Barty anymore. He was staring into the fire, his jaw tight, his hands curled into fists at his sides.

You took a slow breath, steadying yourself, and then—"I’m working against him."

Barty’s entire body went still.

His breathing slowed. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"What," he said, voice eerily calm.

You swallowed hard. "I’ve been helping the Order. Gathering information, passing it to them." You hesitated, glancing at Regulus. "He figured it out days ago."

Barty didn’t even blink. His eyes flicked to Regulus, and his voice was dangerously quiet when he spoke.

"And you didn’t tell me?"

Regulus turned then, his face tense. "No."

"You knew she was working against the Dark Lord, and you didn’t say a word?" Barty’s voice rose, sharp with disbelief. He took a step forward, fury rolling off him in waves. "You knew she was walking straight into death and you just—what? Let her do it?"

Regulus’s jaw clenched. "It’s not that simple."

Barty let out a short, humorless laugh. "Oh, no, it is that simple, Reg." He turned to you, his eyes burning with something almost wild. "You—do you have any idea what he’ll do to you if he finds out?"

You met his gaze steadily. "I do."

"And you still—" His voice broke off as he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He looked like he wanted to throw something, break something. "You—fuck."

Regulus took a step forward, voice low. "Barty—"

"No." Barty shook his head. "No, don’t ‘Barty’ me right now. I—I don’t even know what to—you’re both fucking insane."

Regulus stayed silent.

You, however, took another step forward. "I knew you’d be mad, but I didn’t think it’d be because of this."

Barty turned to you so fast it made your breath hitch. "Are you joking?" His voice was rough, strained. "I’m not mad because you don’t believe in him. I’m mad because you—" He let out a harsh breath, shaking his head. "Because I thought I’d have a lifetime with you, and now I don’t even know if you’ll make it to next week."

Your chest tightened.

"You can’t—" His voice cracked. "You can’t just throw yourself into this war like you’re untouchable. You know what he does to traitors."

"I know," you whispered.

Barty let out another breath, and before you could react, his hands were on your face. His grip was firm, almost desperate, his thumbs tracing over your cheekbones like he was trying to memorize you. His forehead pressed against yours, and for the first time in days, he wasn’t pushing you away.

"You’re going to get yourself killed," he murmured. "And I—I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens."

Your hands came up to rest over his, your fingers curling against his wrists.

Regulus was watching, his expression unreadable. But then, finally, he stepped forward too. His arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you into him.

Barty’s breathing was ragged against your skin, and you felt Regulus sigh against the top of your head.

For a moment, just a moment, none of it mattered.

Not the war.

Not the danger.

Just the three of you, holding onto each other like you were the only thing left in the world.

The world outside seemed to disappear.

For a few moments, the only thing that mattered was the feel of Barty’s hands gently cupping your face, the heat of Regulus’s body pressing against your back, his arms around you, both of them surrounding you like a fragile lifeline.

Barty’s breath was still uneven, but there was a tenderness in the way he held you now. His fingers traced over your jaw, soft, as if he were trying to memorize you. He pressed his forehead against yours again, his lips hovering so close you could feel his every breath.

"I can’t lose you," he whispered, voice breaking, as though the admission hurt. "You can’t just—" He shook his head, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "You can’t keep doing this. I can’t—"

"Then stop me," you said softly, your voice trembling.

Barty’s eyes met yours, and for a second, he just stared, his gaze dark, conflicted. He didn’t know what to say to that. His hand moved down to your neck, fingertips brushing lightly over your skin. "I’m trying," he murmured. "But I’m losing you. Every time you walk out, every time you’re not with me..." His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard, as if the words were too much for him to say.

You closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath, but the weight of it all felt heavier than it ever had. You could feel the pull between you and Barty, the tension of unspoken feelings, but also the love—the ache that had been there since this all started.

Regulus’s arms tightened around you, and he leaned down, his voice softer, quieter. "We’re here," he said gently. "We’re not leaving you. Not now, not ever."

His words, spoken in that calm, steady tone, did something to you. The tears you had been holding back threatened to spill over, but you fought them. You couldn’t break down now. Not when they were both holding you together.

"I can’t keep doing this," you whispered. "I can’t keep lying to both of you, to myself."

"You don’t have to lie," Regulus said, his voice full of quiet understanding. "You’re doing what you think is right. But you don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone."

Your breath hitched at his words. It was like something inside you was unraveling, something you had been holding onto so tightly, afraid of losing control. But now, with them here, with them holding you, maybe it was time to stop pretending.

You turned to face Regulus, letting your fingers curl into his arm, pressing your cheek against his chest. "I’m scared," you whispered, the words coming out in a rush. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this. I’m so afraid of what might happen. Of what’ll happen if he finds out."

Barty’s grip on you tightened, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, "Then let us help you. We’ll keep you safe." His voice was rough with the desperation that mirrored your own. "I’m not going to let you walk into this mess without me. I’m not going to let you face it alone."

Regulus’s voice was firm, unwavering. "Neither of us are."

The three of you stood there, pressed together in the dim light of the room, the weight of everything that was happening in the world outside pressing in on you, but somehow, for a moment, it didn’t matter. The war felt so far away when they were holding you like this.

But the truth was, you couldn’t keep this secret much longer. The lies, the deception, the danger—it was all closing in, and you knew it. Yet, here they were, both of them, offering you their trust, their protection, and their love.

And somehow, for a split second, you let yourself believe that maybe it would be enough.

Barty pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours. "Promise me you’ll tell me next time," he whispered, his voice softer now. "I need to know. I need you to trust me."

You nodded slowly, looking at him. "I promise."

Regulus’s arms tightened around you again, his chin resting gently on the top of your head. "I’ll be here, too," he said quietly. "Don’t think for a second you’re alone in this."

The room was so still, the storm outside distant and almost irrelevant now. You could feel their hearts, both of them, beating against you in sync. For a moment, it was as if time had stopped, as if nothing else existed except the three of you.

"I’m sorry," you whispered. "I never wanted to hurt either of you."

Barty’s thumb stroked over your cheek, wiping away the tear you hadn’t even noticed had fallen. "You haven’t hurt us," he said softly. "But you will if you keep doing this alone."

Regulus’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair. "We’re not asking you to fight this battle for us," he said, his voice low but steady. "But we can’t lose you."

The room felt heavier than ever, but it also felt strangely comforting. The love, the unspoken understanding between the three of you—no matter how much the world outside seemed to be falling apart, right now, here, this moment was everything.

"I don’t want to lose you either," you whispered, finally letting go of the fear that had been consuming you for so long.

And in that moment, for all the turmoil and pain and uncertainty, you knew that you wouldn’t face it alone. They were there, both of them, and as long as they were by your side, maybe—just maybe—you had a chance to survive this. Together.

His favourite.

The dark chamber was cold, the air thick with something suffocating—fear, anticipation, devotion. The Death Eaters stood in a circle, their black robes blending into the shadows, the eerie flicker of candlelight casting long, twisting silhouettes along the stone walls.

You stood between Regulus and Barty, their presence anchoring you, though it did little to quell the sickening dread curling in your stomach. Every meeting was unbearable, but tonight felt different.

The Dark Lord sat at the head of the room, his pale fingers drumming lightly against the armrest of his throne-like chair. His red eyes flickered over the gathered figures before settling on you, a slow, satisfied smirk pulling at his lips.

"Ah," he murmured, voice smooth as silk. "My most promising ones."

You fought to keep your expression neutral as he rose from his seat, gliding toward the three of you with that effortless, inhuman grace.

"You never fail to impress me," Voldemort continued, his gaze lingering on you for far too long. "So young, yet so skilled. A rare combination."

Regulus shifted beside you, subtle but protective, his fingers twitching at his side. Barty, on your other side, clenched his jaw so tightly you could almost hear his teeth grind.

"My Lord," you said, lowering your head slightly, feigning deference as best you could.

His lips curled as he took a step closer, just near enough that you could feel the cold presence of his magic brushing against your skin.

"Tell me," Voldemort mused, reaching out a single, skeletal finger to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "do you understand how valuable you are to me?"

Your stomach turned.

"I only serve where I am needed, my Lord," you answered carefully, lowering your gaze just slightly, playing the part he expected of you.

His lips curled in something akin to a smile. "Humble as ever."

Barty stiffened beside you. You could feel the way his entire body was wound tight, the anger radiating off him in waves.

Regulus, ever composed, subtly shifted closer to you, his fingers brushing against yours, a silent reminder that he was there. That neither of them would let this go too far.

Voldemort, of course, noticed.

His amusement grew. "Ah," he mused, voice smooth as silk. "You boys are always so protective of her. As if she needs it."

Barty’s jaw clenched. "She is ours, my Lord." His voice was unwavering, firm, but careful. He knew better than to openly challenge him.

Voldemort’s head tilted ever so slightly, amusement flickering in his red eyes. "Oh?"

Regulus’s voice was calm, carefully measured. "We are bound to each other, My Lord. Devoted. She is ours as much as we are hers."

There was a long silence. The tension in the room crackled like static.

Then Voldemort chuckled.

You hated this. The way he looked at you. The way he spoke to you as if you were his.

"Fascinating," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over the three of you with something almost like amusement. "How devoted you are to each other. It is rare to find such unwavering loyalty."

You swallowed, resisting the urge to step back. You knew better than to show weakness here.

Voldemort exhaled through his nose, seemingly satisfied for now, and turned away, his robes billowing as he strode back toward his seat.

"But," he continued, lowering himself into his chair once more, "loyalty is not always absolute, is it?"

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay still.

Voldemort’s eyes flickered over the room, sharp and calculating. "I have reason to believe there is a traitor among us," he said, his tone casual, but the weight of his words made the air feel even heavier.

Your fingers curled into your robe.

Regulus, beside you, barely moved, but you could feel how tense he was, every muscle in his body coiled tight. Barty, too, was unnaturally still, but you could tell his mind was already racing.

Voldemort’s gaze lingered on different Death Eaters, as if searching for any sign of guilt. "Someone has been leaking information to the Order of the Phoenix," he said, his voice almost lazy. "They think they can deceive me."

The chamber was utterly silent.

You could feel your heart pounding against your ribs, but you kept your breathing steady, your expression carefully blank.

"Whoever it is," Voldemort mused, his fingers tapping lightly against his armrest, "will be found. And when they are…" His smile was razor-sharp, chilling. "Well. You all know what happens to traitors."

Your stomach twisted violently.

Regulus’s hand brushed against yours—so briefly, so subtly, that no one else would have noticed, but the message was clear.

Barty, too, shifted just slightly, moving closer, his body half-angled toward you in an instinctive stance of protection.

Voldemort watched the three of you again, his expression unreadable. "Tell me," he said, "do any of you have thoughts on this… traitor?"

You knew what he was doing.

He wanted you to speak. He wanted to hear you condemn someone, to prove your allegiance.

You forced a small frown, tilting your head slightly, as if deep in thought. "If someone has betrayed you, My Lord," you said carefully, "they have made their choice, and it will be their downfall."

Voldemort regarded him for a long moment before his gaze slid back to you.

"Yes," he murmured. "I trust you will handle it."

Your throat felt dry. "Of course, my Lord."

His lips curled again, but this time there was something calculating in his eyes.

Then, without warning, he reached forward.

His cold, skeletal fingers barely grazed the side of your face before—

Barty stepped in.

Regulus moved at the same time.

"My Lord," Barty said smoothly, though his voice was tight, almost shaking with the restraint it took to keep his anger in check. "She is ours." He said again, as to remember what he just said mere minutes ago.

Regulus was more measured but no less firm. "We have always been loyal to you, my Lord. And we remain loyal to each other."

For a moment, Voldemort merely watched them.

Then he laughed.

Low and cruel.

"Fascinating," he mused. "Such devotion. Such love." His voice curled around the word as if it was something vile. "And yet, love has always been a weakness, hasn’t it?"

Regulus didn’t flinch. "Love is what makes us fight harder, my Lord. We would die for you."

Barty nodded sharply. "And we would kill for her."

Voldemort exhaled through his nose, as if weighing their words. Then, finally, he leaned back in his seat, his amusement still evident.

"Very well," he said, his voice smooth once more. "You may keep your prize."

Your stomach churned.

Your mind was racing, your body still thrumming with the aftershock of his scrutiny.

The meeting dragged on, each passing second heavy with tension. Voldemort had moved on from his initial speech, now discussing upcoming attacks, new strategies, and those who had been caught opposing him. Every word out of his mouth was a reminder of how deep they were in this war, of how much blood was on everyone’s hands.

You kept your expression neutral, nodding when appropriate, keeping your breathing steady. Barty was standing stiffly beside you, arms crossed, barely keeping himself in check. Regulus, ever composed, listened carefully, but his hands were curled into fists at his sides.

Then, as the meeting was beginning to wind down, Voldemort spoke again.

“Before you all leave,” he said smoothly, his red eyes sweeping over the gathered Death Eaters, “I will require a few moments with each of you. Privately.”

A few people shifted uneasily.

You felt a cold wave wash over you, but you didn’t let it show.

Voldemort leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable. “There is a traitor among us,” he repeated, voice silk-soft, yet carrying an undeniable weight. “And I will not be made a fool of.”

The air in the chamber thickened.

“You will come to me, one by one,” he continued. “There is no need to fear. If you are loyal, you have nothing to hide.”

A lie.

No one spoke.

Then Voldemort’s gaze flicked to Barty. “We will begin with you, Crouch.”

Barty stiffened, then exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders back. You could tell he was biting back something sharp, something reckless, but he held his tongue.

Voldemort stood, gesturing toward a door at the back of the chamber. “Come.”

Barty turned to you for half a second—just enough for you to catch the flicker of fire in his eyes. He wasn’t afraid. He was furious.

Then, without another glance, he followed Voldemort into the private room, the door clicking shut behind them.

The room was dimly lit, a single candle on the desk casting elongated shadows along the walls. Barty stepped inside, keeping his head held high, his expression carefully blank.

Voldemort took his time, moving to the other side of the desk, settling into a high-backed chair.

“Sit.”

Barty hesitated, then dropped into the chair across from him, his movements casual, but his muscles coiled tight.

Voldemort studied him for a long moment, red eyes gleaming. “You have always been a fascinating one, Barty,” he murmured. “So eager. So loyal. Unlike your father.”

Barty clenched his jaw. His father. That was the entire reason he had joined this war in the first place—to rebel, to ruin his father’s perfect reputation, to show him that he would never be the son he wanted. But the more he had thrown himself into the Death Eaters, the more he had begun to realize just how much he hated being under someone else’s control.

Especially when that someone was Voldemort.

Voldemort reached into a drawer, pulling out a small vial of clear liquid. “You know what this is, of course.”

Veritaserum.

Barty schooled his expression into one of mild interest, watching as Voldemort poured a few drops into a goblet of water.

“You will drink,” Voldemort said smoothly, pushing the goblet forward. “And then we will talk.”

Barty didn’t even blink. He took the goblet, swirling the liquid absently, as if he had nothing to fear. Then he tipped his head back and drank.

The potion slid down his throat, cool and tasteless. A normal person would already be feeling its effects, their mind opening like an unlocked door.

But Barty had poisoned himself with Veritaserum long ago. The resistance had built slowly, painfully, over time, but now it was absolute.

Voldemort sat back, watching him with keen eyes. “Good,” he murmured. Then, after a pause— “Tell me, Barty… have you noticed anything unusual within our ranks?”

Barty raised an eyebrow. “Aside from the obvious paranoia?”

Voldemort’s lips curled ever so slightly. “Clever,” he said. “But not an answer.”

Barty exhaled through his nose, tilting his head as if in thought. “If there is a traitor,” he said lazily, “then they’re damn good at hiding it. No one seems particularly suspicious to me.”

A lie, spoken with absolute ease.

Voldemort’s gaze was unwavering. “You are close to her,” he said, voice soft, but pointed. “Your little love affair is no secret.”

Barty’s hands curled into fists beneath the table. He forced a smirk. “Jealous, My Lord?”

A sharp, ringing silence.

Then—Voldemort laughed. A slow, cold sound, more amused than offended. “Ah, Barty,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “Your loyalty is not in question. Your temper, however… is intriguing.”

Barty said nothing.

Voldemort watched him carefully, then took a step closer. "Tell me, Barty," he said, his voice a whisper of silk and steel. "Have you ever doubted me?"

Barty tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question. Then, smoothly, he said, "No, my Lord."

It was a performance. The perfect lie.

Voldemort’s gaze bore into his, sharp and probing. Barty felt the magic press against his mind, slithering, seeking. He focused, let his occlumency build walls of ice, let his thoughts scatter like mist. He had trained for this moment, had carved his mind into a fortress that no one—not even the Dark Lord—could break into.

After a moment, Voldemort made a small sound. Amused. Intrigued.

"You are not so easily read," he mused.

Barty allowed himself a small, careful smirk. "I’ve always valued my privacy."

Voldemort chuckled, a low, cold sound. "Indeed."

He turned slightly, circling him like a predator sizing up its prey. Then, almost lazily, he asked, "Do you trust your… companions?"

Barty knew exactly who he meant. He forced his body to remain relaxed. "Regulus and her?" he said, as if the question was absurd. "Of course. We trust each other with our lives."

Voldemort hummed. "And yet, trust is so often misplaced."

Barty’s fingers twitched at his sides. He hated this. Hated the way Voldemort spoke about them, hated the way his gaze darkened with something possessive whenever he mentioned her.

Voldemort leaned forward slightly, his red eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “She is… captivating, isn’t she?”

Barty’s blood ran cold.

The way Voldemort said it, the way he let the words roll off his tongue like a slow poison, made his skin crawl.

“I have seen the way you look at her,” Voldemort continued, watching him closely. “The way both of you do.”

Barty gritted his teeth. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to do something reckless, something stupid.

“I have no objections to… loyalty,” Voldemort said. “But tell me, Barty—would you be so loyal if she were to betray you?”

Barty inhaled sharply, forcing himself to meet Voldemort’s gaze with unwavering eyes. “She would never betray me,” he said, voice steady, but laced with something dangerous.

Voldemort studied him for a moment longer, as if searching for something in his expression. Then he hummed. “We shall see.”

He leaned back again, fingers tapping against the desk. “You may go.”

Barty didn’t hesitate. He stood, turned, and strode toward the door, his every movement sharp and controlled.

But as he reached for the handle, Voldemort’s voice stopped him.

“Oh, and Barty?”

He clenched his jaw before slowly glancing over his shoulder.

Voldemort’s smirk was barely there, but it was there nonetheless. “She is quite lucky to have you.”

Barty said nothing.

Then he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him.

The moment Barty stepped out of the room, Regulus knew something was wrong.

Barty had always been good at masking his emotions, but right now, his shoulders were too stiff, his fists clenched too tight. His usually smug expression was gone, replaced by something dark, something furious.

Regulus didn't ask. He didn't need to. He simply met Barty's gaze for a fraction of a second before Voldemort’s voice called his name.

"Regulus."

Regulus inhaled slowly, steadying himself before stepping forward. The air in the room was thick with something unseen, something suffocating. He kept his posture straight, his expression blank.

Voldemort gestured toward the same goblet, still laced with Veritaserum.

"Drink."

Regulus took the cup and swallowed it with the same practiced ease as Barty. He felt nothing. The years of slow poisoning had paid off.

Voldemort studied him carefully before speaking. "You are an interesting one, Regulus," he said, pacing around him. "So quiet. So… calculating."

Regulus said nothing.

Voldemort tilted his head. "Do you doubt me?"

Regulus met his gaze, eyes as cold and unreadable as ever. "No, my Lord."

A lie. Smooth, effortless.

Voldemort hummed, stepping closer. "Your mind is quiet," he mused, his tone amused. "Most people cannot silence their thoughts so well."

Regulus remained still, his Occlumency shields firmly in place. He had learned early on that emotions were weaknesses, that showing anything more than cold obedience would only draw suspicion.

Voldemort circled him like a predator. "You are devoted to the cause, are you not?"

Regulus nodded once. "Of course."

Another lie.

Voldemort chuckled, seemingly entertained. "And yet," he murmured, "I wonder… what is it that you truly believe in, Regulus?"

Regulus held his gaze. "I believe in what you have taught us, my Lord," he said smoothly. "That power is meant for those who can wield it. That weakness must be eradicated."

Voldemort smiled, pleased.

Regulus had always been good at telling people exactly what they wanted to hear.

Voldemort’s gaze darkened slightly, his next words slow, deliberate. "And what of her?"

Regulus’ jaw tightened, barely perceptible.

Voldemort’s smirk widened. "You, Barty, and her… it is amusing, really. You act as though she belongs to you."

Regulus remained silent.

"But you forget," Voldemort continued, stepping closer, "that I am the one who chooses whom she belongs to."

His voice was soft, almost thoughtful, but the weight of the words sent something cold and sharp crawling up Regulus' spine.

Regulus forced his expression to remain blank, but his blood was burning beneath his skin. He wanted nothing more than to lash out, to put an end to the way Voldemort’s gaze lingered on her. But that would be reckless. Stupid.

Instead, he inhaled slowly, masking his fury behind a carefully controlled voice. "She is loyal, my Lord," he said smoothly. "That is all that matters."

Voldemort chuckled. "Is it?"

He studied Regulus for a long moment, searching. Trying to push past the wall of ice that Regulus had spent years perfecting.

But he found nothing.

After a moment, Voldemort let out a quiet sigh, as if slightly disappointed. "You may go," he said finally.

Regulus didn’t hesitate. He turned and walked out of the room, his steps controlled, his breathing even.

But the moment the door shut behind him, his fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms so hard it hurt.

Barty was waiting for him in the corridor, his expression just as stormy.

Regulus exhaled slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I hate him."

Barty’s lips curled into something dark, something sharp. "That makes two of us."

Just some moments ago, it was your turn to be interrogated by the dark lord.

The door creaked as you stepped inside, your heartbeat steady but your stomach twisting. You had always known this moment would come. The moment where you had to sit across from him, knowing the web of lies you had carefully woven could crumble with a single misplaced word, a single crack in your composure.

Voldemort’s crimson eyes locked onto you, and a slow, knowing smile stretched across his pale lips.

"Finally," he murmured. "I saved the best for last."

You forced a small smile, polite but distant, before stepping forward and taking the goblet from his outstretched hand. You tilted it back, letting the liquid slip down your throat. It tasted bitter, like metal and rot, but you didn’t flinch.

Voldemort watched your closely, his head tilting slightly.

"Tell me," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Do you know who has been leaking information to the Order?"

You met his gaze without hesitation. "No, my Lord."

Truth spilled effortlessly from her lips—just not the whole truth.

Voldemort hummed, tapping his long fingers against the arm of his chair. "Curious. I was sure someone of your intelligence would have some idea."

You shook your head. "If I did, I would tell you."

Another lie, clean and sharp.

Voldemort leaned back, watching your in consideration. Then, without warning, he reached forward, long fingers pressing against your temple.

You didn’t flinch. You had expected this.

The moment his magic touched your mind, you strengthened your Occlumency shields, keeping your thoughts blank and your emotions steady. You had practiced for years, had learned from the best.

The fact was that Regulus was the one to teach you and Barty the secrets of occlumency. It was Regulus who slowly poisoned the three of you until you were resistant to veritaserum. Regulus was always thinking three steps ahead.

Nothing.

Voldemort’s frown deepened.

"You are difficult to read," he murmured, almost fascinated. "Like Regulus. I wonder… have you been learning from him?"

"I learn from those who are worth learning from, my Lord," you answered smoothly.

Voldemort chuckled. "Clever girl."

You held still as his fingers traced lightly down your cheek, the cold, skeletal touch sending revulsion curling in your stomach. But you remained impassive, empty. Just like Regulus. Just like Barty.

"You are so obedient," Voldemort praised, his tone almost… fond. "So loyal."

You didn’t respond.

Voldemort let his fingers drift lower, brushing against her jaw. "Unlike the others, you understand true power, don’t you?"

You swallowed back the bile rising in your throat and answered, your voice steady. "Yes, my Lord."

His eyes gleamed, and his thumb ghosted over your lower lip.

"You could be greater than them," Voldemort mused, his tone light, almost indulgent. "Why waste your time with children when you could stand beside someone truly powerful?"

Your stomach twisted.

"I am where I wish to be, my Lord" you said flatly.

Voldemort chuckled again, as if your words were amusing rather than a rejection.

"Are you?" he asked, tilting his head. "I see how they cling to you. How they think you belong to them." His fingers trailed down your arm, slow, deliberate. "But you are not theirs."

You kept your breath even, forcing yourself not to recoil.

"You deserve more," he continued. "Someone who can give you more. I could give you more."

The disgust was a wildfire in your chest, but you did not let it show. You met his gaze, cold and impassive. "I am honored, my Lord," you said carefully. "But I am loyal."

Voldemort searched your face, as if trying to find a crack in your perfect mask.

Then, after a long silence, he sighed. "A shame," he murmured, his fingers finally drawing away.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, your skin still crawling.

Voldemort leaned back, watching you with something close to amusement. "You may go," he said finally. "And do not let those boys keep you from reaching your true potential."

You gave a short nod and turned on your heel, leaving the room without haste but without hesitation.

The moment the door shut behind you, you sucked in a breath, your hands shaking slightly before you clenched them into fists.

Barty and Regulus were already waiting for you.

And the moment you saw them, the disgust, the revulsion, the lingering phantom touch of Voldemort’s hands—it all became unbearable.

Barty noticed first. His eyes darkened. "What the hell did he do?"

Regulus stepped forward, his jaw tight. His hand brushed against yours, grounding, steady. "Did he—?"

"I’m fine," you said quickly, but your voice was strained, your mask cracking.

Barty’s fists clenched. "I’ll kill him."

Regulus said nothing, but his eyes were filled with something dark, something murderous.

You shook your head, swallowing hard. "Not here. Not now."

Barty let out a sharp breath, still furious, but he stepped closer, his hand curling around the back of your neck. "That bastard," he muttered, his voice low, deadly.

Regulus placed a hand on your waist, grounding you. "You’re trembling," he murmured.

You exhaled shakily. "I just need to leave."

They didn’t argue.

Regulus slipped an arm around your shoulders, and Barty took your hand, squeezing it tightly.

And together, you walked away, leaving the darkness behind you.

The moment you were outside, far from prying eyes and listening ears, the weight of what had just happened crashed down on you.

You felt filthy. Like Voldemort’s touch had left something rotting on your skin, something you couldn’t shake off no matter how hard you tried. Your stomach twisted, nausea rising, and you could feel your hands shaking. But you kept walking, head high, expression cold and unreadable. You knew better than to let anyone see you like this.

But Barty and Regulus saw.

They always saw.

Barty was practically vibrating with rage beside you, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles had turned white. Regulus was walking with tense, controlled movements, his jaw locked, his eyes dark.

As soon as you were far enough from the meeting place, in the secluded forest where they had Apparated in, you stopped. And then—you broke.

A sob wrenched its way out of your throat before you could stop it. Your knees buckled, and you covered your mouth with your hands, trying to quiet the sound, but it was useless.

Barty was at your side in an instant. "Fuck," he muttered, voice tight. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—come here." He pulled your into his arms, crushing you against his chest.

You clung to him, fists curling into his robes as the sobs wracked your body. "I hate him," you choked out. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him—"

Regulus placed a hand on your back, rubbing slow circles. "It’s over," he murmured, his voice low, controlled. But you could hear the restrained fury underneath it. "He can’t touch you now."

Barty’s breathing was ragged, and you could feel the way his whole body was shaking with barely restrained anger. "Where did he touch you?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.

You hesitated for half a second before whispering, "My face. My jaw. My arm. My—my lip."

Barty made a sound so vicious it barely sounded human. "I’m going back there," he growled. "I swear to fucking Merlin, I’ll—"

"No, you won’t," Regulus said sharply, his grip on you tightening as if to remind Barty of what truly mattered right now. "She needs us. Not a fight you won’t win."

Barty let out a sharp breath, his whole body still shaking with fury, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he pressed a fierce, lingering kiss to your temple, his fingers curling protectively around the nape of your neck. "I swear to you, if he ever does that again—"

"He won’t," Regulus interrupted, his voice filled with quiet, deadly certainty. "We won’t let him."

You sniffled, finally pulling back enough to wipe your tears away. "I just—I just want to go home," you whispered.

Regulus nodded. "Let’s go."

Barty took your hand, squeezing it tightly. "And then you’re taking the longest shower of your fucking life, and we’re going to make sure you forget every second of what just happened."

You exhaled shakily, nodding. "Please."

The moment you Apparated back to the Black estate, the suffocating weight in your chest barely lifted. The grand, dark halls of the house were cold, eerie, but you were safe. Safe from him. Safe from the way his fingers had burned into your skin like something rotten, something vile you couldn’t scrub away.

You barely made it past the threshold before your legs gave out again, but this time, Barty caught you before you could fall. His arms wrapped around you, strong and grounding, holding you up even when you felt like crumbling.

Regulus shut the door behind you, locking it with a flick of his wand. Then he turned to you, his gaze sharp, analyzing. His mind was already working, calculating, planning—what to do next, how to stop this from happening again.

But Barty? Barty was all fire.

"You’re shaking," he muttered, voice raw with barely contained fury. He pressed his forehead against yours, his grip tightening around you. "You’re fucking shaking."

Of course, you were. You could still feel Voldemort’s touch like something etched into your skin. You hated it. Hated it so much you wanted to rip yourself apart just to make it go away.

Regulus took your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up so he could look at you. His touch was nothing like Voldemort’s—it was steady, firm, but careful. His thumb brushed over your jaw, where Voldemort had dared to trace. His eyes darkened. "I should kill him," he murmured, almost too quiet to hear.

You let out a shaky breath. "You can’t."

Regulus’ jaw clenched. "Doesn’t mean I won’t find another way to make him suffer."

Barty growled under his breath, still vibrating with rage. "Why didn’t you slap his fucking hand away?"

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. "Because he’s Voldemort, Barty."

Barty’s grip on you tightened. "I don’t care," he hissed. "If he ever—if he ever fucking touches you again—"

Regulus cut him off, voice sharper than usual. "He won’t."

Barty turned to him, expression still twisted in fury. "How can you be so sure?"

Regulus met his gaze without hesitation. "Because next time, I’ll kill him myself."

You let out a broken sound, something between a laugh and a sob. "I love you both," you murmured, shaking your head. "But you can’t just kill Voldemort."

Barty scoffed, running a hand through his hair, eyes wild. "Watch me."

Regulus exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing against yours before he took your hand. "Right now, we need to take care of you." His voice was softer now, but there was no mistaking the steel underneath it. "Shower. Fresh clothes. Something warm to drink. And then sleep."

You hesitated. "I don’t want to be alone."

Barty scoffed. "Like we’d let that happen."

Regulus’ grip tightened. "We’ll be with you the whole time."

A lump formed in your throat, and you exhaled, nodding. "Okay."

Barty pulled away first, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the bathroom. "Come on. We’re scrubbing every trace of that bastard off you."

Regulus followed, quiet, watchful, protective.

And for the first time since the meeting, since Voldemort’s hands had dared to touch you, you felt like you could breathe again.

The bathroom was warm, steam curling around the air as the enchanted taps filled the bathtub. The scent of lavender and cedarwood filled the space—Regulus’ doing, no doubt, since he always had a way of making things feel softer, safer.

Barty sat on the edge of the tub, sleeves rolled up, watching the water rise. His knee bounced impatiently, hands still clenched into fists, but his eyes kept flickering back to you. Regulus stood behind you, fingers at the clasp of your cloak, carefully undoing it before sliding it off your shoulders.

Regulus sighed, stepping closer. "You don’t have to do anything," he murmured. "We’ll take care of you."

You swallowed, exhaustion pressing into your bones. "I feel disgusting."

Barty’s jaw tightened. "That’s because he is disgusting." His hands curled over yours, his grip firm but warm. "We’re fixing this. Now."

Regulus reached up, brushing his fingers against your jaw—the same spot Voldemort had touched. His touch was a whisper against your skin, gentle, reverent, as if trying to erase the phantom feeling of someone else’s hands on you.

"Let us," he said simply.

Your throat tightened, but you nodded. "Okay."

Regulus undid the buttons of your robes, slow, deliberate, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he slid the fabric down your arms, leaving you in only your underwear. Barty stood, pressing a kiss to your temple before whispering, "Get in."

You stepped into the tub, the hot water enveloping you instantly, and let out a shuddering breath. It was comforting, but the unease in your chest hadn’t left yet.

Barty knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves even more, grabbing a washcloth. "Close your eyes," he murmured.

You did.

The cloth was warm, soft against your skin as Barty ran it over your arm, wiping away the invisible filth you still felt clinging to you. His touch was uncharacteristically gentle, slow and careful. "It’s just me," he murmured, as if reassuring you. "Just us."

Regulus kneeled behind you, gathering your wet hair in his hands, his fingers brushing against your scalp. "Tilt your head back," he instructed softly.

You did as he asked, and a moment later, water poured over your hair, washing away the remnants of the night.

They worked in quiet synchrony—Regulus washing your hair with slow, practiced fingers, Barty scrubbing your arms and shoulders, tracing patterns into your skin that felt like protection, like a vow.

"I hate him," Barty muttered under his breath.

Regulus hummed in agreement, fingers still in your hair. "He doesn’t own you," he said quietly. "No matter what he thinks."

Barty’s fingers curled around your wrist, his lips brushing against your knuckles. "You’re ours," he murmured. "Not his."

Your breath hitched. The weight of their words, the warmth of their hands—it was all too much and yet not enough. You turned your head slightly, opening your eyes, meeting Regulus’ gaze.

"Stay with me," you whispered.

Regulus’ thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a droplet of water. "Always."

Barty grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You’re not getting rid of us that easily, love."

You exhaled shakily, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. "Good."

Regulus rinsed the last of the shampoo from your hair, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "You’re clean now," he murmured. "Inside and out."

Barty kissed your wrist again before reaching for a towel. "Time to dry off, sweetheart. We’ve got a bed waiting for you."

You let them pull you up, wrapping you in the warmth of the towel and their hands. Every touch, every whispered reassurance, every kiss against your skin was a promise—of protection, of devotion, of something bigger than the war, bigger than the darkness that loomed over all of you.

Because tonight, for just a little while, you weren’t a soldier.

You were just theirs.

Regulus carried you out of the bathroom, his grip firm but careful, like he was holding something precious. Barty was right behind, still fussing, rubbing the towel over your arms and legs, making sure you were completely dry before you got into bed.

"You’re treating me like I’m made of glass," you mumbled, your voice still hoarse from earlier.

Barty scoffed, tossing the towel aside. "Yeah? Well, you bloody shattered back there, didn’t you?"

Regulus shot him a look. "Not helping."

Barty groaned, raking a hand through his damp hair. "I’m not trying to be an arse, alright? I just—" His voice wavered, and for the first time that night, you saw something else behind his anger. Fear.

He had been scared.

You reached for him, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. "I’m okay," you whispered.

Barty let out a sharp breath, looking down at you, his hands settling on your hips. "No, you’re not," he murmured. "But you will be."

Regulus, ever the silent force of control, gently nudged Barty aside and guided you toward the bed. "Lie down," he instructed softly.

You obeyed, sinking into the mattress with a sigh. It smelled like them—clean linen, a hint of Barty’s cologne, and something darker, something that always reminded you of Regulus.

They crawled in beside you, one on each side, their warmth seeping into your skin. Barty was always restless, so it didn’t surprise you when he pulled you against his chest, his heartbeat steady under your ear. His fingers trailed along your spine, drawing lazy, distracted patterns.

"You still feel it?" he asked after a moment.

You knew what he meant. The ghost of Voldemort’s touch, the suffocating presence of him, the way your skin had burned under his fingers like a brand you couldn’t wash away.

You swallowed hard. "A little."

Barty made an irritated noise in the back of his throat, his grip tightening. "I’d kill him if I could," he muttered.

"You’d die trying," Regulus pointed out, his voice quiet. He was lying on his side, watching you, his hand resting just above your knee. "And she wouldn’t want that."

Barty sighed, pressing his forehead against your hair. "Yeah, well. It’s the thought that counts."

Regulus gave a small, almost amused exhale, but his fingers traced small, soothing circles against your skin. "Close your eyes," he murmured.

You did.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Barty’s lips brushed against your temple, and he whispered, "Mine."

Regulus leaned in, pressing a kiss just below your jaw, his voice a ghost against your skin. "Ours."

A shiver ran down your spine—not from fear, not from disgust, but from something else entirely. Something safe.

Something that felt like home.

And for the first time that night, you felt clean.

Trying to understand.

The three of you sat in the dimly lit bedroom, an unspoken tension thick in the air. Days had passed since the last Death Eater meeting, and the weight of everything was pressing down on you. You knew this conversation was inevitable. You had kept your secrets long enough.

Regulus sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded, looking calm—too calm. It was the kind of stillness he carried when he was deep in thought, when his mind was running faster than he’d ever let on. Barty, on the other hand, was sprawled across the chair near the fireplace, one leg bouncing up and down in irritation. He wasn’t good at keeping still when he was frustrated.

"You’re going to have to explain," Barty said, voice sharp. He wasn’t yelling, but his frustration was evident. "Because I get that you hate the Dark Lord. I get that you hate everything he stands for. But what I don’t get is why you’re still doing this. You know it’s suicide, right?"

Regulus finally looked at you, his cold grey eyes searching, studying. "Barty’s right," he said, and Barty let out an incredulous scoff at Regulus agreeing with him. "If anyone finds out what you’re doing, you’ll be dead before you can even pull your wand. And we won’t be able to stop it."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "I know the risks," you said.

"Then why?" Barty demanded. "Why the fuck are you doing this?"

You looked at both of them, really looked at them. They were your boys—angry and protective and scared in their own ways. But you had to make them understand.

"Because someone has to," you said simply.

Barty groaned, running a hand through his hair. "That’s not a real answer. Try again."

You exhaled slowly. "You want the truth? Fine. I never believed in this cause. Not for one second. I never thought blood purity meant anything. I never thought Voldemort was some great leader destined to change the world. I never thought any of this was right."

Regulus tilted his head slightly, something unreadable flashing in his expression. Barty, however, leaned forward, his jaw tight. "So why the hell did you join in the first place?"

"Because I had no choice," you admitted. "Just like you."

Barty flinched. You knew you hit a nerve.

"You did it because of your father," you continued, voice softer now. "You wanted to spite him. You wanted to prove something. But you never really believed in it either, did you?"

Barty clenched his jaw. "I believe in blood purity," he shot back, though there was something defensive in his tone, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You gave him a sad smile. "Do you?"

His fingers twitched. "I—" He stopped, huffing. "Fuck. I don’t know."

Regulus finally spoke. "You joined the Order, didn’t you?"

You nodded. "Not officially. But I’ve been feeding them information. Helping them from the inside."

Regulus didn’t even look surprised. He just let out a long breath, rubbing his hands over his face.

Barty, on the other hand, looked like he was going to explode. "And what, you thought you’d just keep this up forever? That no one would ever figure it out? That the Dark Lord wouldn’t eventually start questioning why one of his most trusted followers is always one step behind the Order?"

"I know it won’t last forever," you admitted. "I know eventually I’ll get caught. But until then, I can make a difference. I can save people."

Barty scoffed. "Save people? And who’s gonna save you?"

You swallowed hard. "I’m not asking to be saved."

"Well, too fucking bad," Barty snapped. "Because we’re not just going to sit here and watch you get yourself killed."

Regulus was quiet, but you could see the way his hands clenched into fists. "You should have told us sooner," he murmured.

You looked down. "Would you have helped me?"

Regulus didn’t answer immediately. But then—"Yes."

Your head snapped up. Even Barty looked startled. "What?" you asked.

Regulus met your gaze, something resolute in his expression. "I said yes. I would’ve helped you."

Barty let out a frustrated groan, slumping back in his chair. "Oh, for fuck’s sake, not you too."

Regulus ignored him, keeping his focus on you. "I never wanted this life either. I was born into it, like you. Like Barty. But I never wanted it."

For the first time, Barty looked genuinely thrown off. "Are you saying you’re going to join her?"

Regulus didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at you. And in that moment, you realized—he already had. Maybe not officially, maybe not yet, but in his mind, he had already chosen.

"I’m saying I can’t just keep pretending," he said simply.

Barty groaned again, rubbing his temples. "This is insanity. You know that, right?"

"You don’t have to make a choice right now," you told him softly.

Barty glanced at you, his eyes burning with something unreadable. "You’re my choice," he said. "You and him. That’s it. That’s all I fucking care about."

Regulus’s expression softened, just slightly.

You exhaled. "Then let’s figure this out. Together."

Regulus shook his head, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "We won’t die."

Barty snorted. "You say that like you actually believe it."

Regulus met your eyes again, and his hand found yours, fingers lacing together.

"I do."

Not alone.

The room was silent, the air thick with the warmth of sleep. The steady rise and fall of Barty and Regulus’ breathing filled the dimly lit space, the only sound breaking through the stillness. You moved carefully, inching out from beneath the covers, making sure not to shift too much weight onto the creaky floorboards. Every muscle in your body was tense, every movement calculated.

You had done this before—sneaking out while they slept, slipping away into the night. But tonight was different. You barely made it two steps from the bed before—

"Where the fuck do you think you’re going?"

Barty’s voice, thick with sleep but sharp as a knife, cut through the air.

You froze, cursing internally.

Then, another voice—low, cold, but not groggy. Regulus. "You weren’t seriously about to go alone, were you?"

Your stomach twisted. Of course they woke up. Of course they did.

You turned slowly, your expression schooled into neutrality. "I have something to do."

Barty let out a humorless laugh, sitting up in bed, rubbing his hands down his face. "Oh yeah? And let me guess, it involves you sneaking out like a fucking idiot in the middle of the night?"

Regulus was already sitting up too, his sharp grey eyes locked onto you like he was reading every thought in your head. "You’re going to them," he stated. Not a question. A fact.

You sighed. "I need to—"

"No, you don’t," Barty snapped. "You don’t need to do shit. What you need to do is stay here, where it’s safe, and not get yourself killed."

You crossed your arms. "I can take care of myself."

"Yeah? Then what? You come back bleeding?"

Regulus was already moving, already reaching for his wand, his shoes, his cloak. "If you’re going, I’m going."

You frowned. "Regulus—"

"Don’t start," he said, cold and final. "You’re not doing this alone."

Barty groaned, dragging a hand through his messy hair. "Oh, for fuck’s sake—both of you are insane."

Regulus didn’t even glance at him as he pulled on his coat. "Someone has to make sure she doesn’t die on the way there."

Barty stared at him like he was the dumbest person alive. "Or—and hear me out—we could just not go."

You turned to Barty. "I have to do this, Barty."

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Why?" His voice was quieter now, less rage, more frustration. More worry. "Why do you always have to be the one risking everything?"

You softened, stepping closer to him, resting a hand on his arm. "Because I can help."

Barty closed his eyes briefly, exhaling hard through his nose. "I hate you," he muttered.

You smirked. "No, you don’t."

He shot you a glare before looking at Regulus, who was already fastening his cloak like he had accepted his fate. "And you. You’re supposed to be the smart one. What the hell are you doing?"

Regulus raised a brow. "Making sure she doesn’t do something reckless and die."

Barty scoffed. "That’s my job."

"Then get dressed."

Barty groaned, throwing his head back dramatically before grumbling, "I swear to Merlin, you two are going to be the death of me." But despite his complaints, he was already pulling on his cloak, grabbing his wand.

Regulus smirked slightly. "Then we’ll make sure you die in good company."

Barty shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up, Black."

You smiled despite yourself, your heart swelling at the sight of them. They would never let you do this alone. Even when they were furious at you, even when they thought you were making the worst decision possible, they were with you.

"Alright," you said, exhaling. "Let’s go."

Barty shook his head, muttering under his breath as he stepped closer to you and Regulus. "If we die, I’m haunting you both for eternity."

Regulus smirked again. "Noted."

And with that, the three of you disappeared into the night.

Working for the order.

The weeks bled into each other, every day more dangerous than the last.

You were in too deep now, tangled in something that could kill you at any moment. Regulus had started helping, slipping into the shadows with you, covering your tracks, whispering secrets in dark corners when no one was listening. And Barty—Barty never agreed, never wanted any of this, but he came anyway, because as much as he bitched and groaned about your "stupid, reckless decisions," he refused to let you and Regulus run into the fire alone.

Tonight was no different.

The three of you crouched behind an old stone wall, hidden in the ruins of what used to be a manor before Death Eaters had burned it to the ground. It was your meeting spot with one of the Order members, but something felt off. The air was too still.

Barty shifted beside you, whispering, "This is a fucking stupid idea. Just so we’re all aware."

Regulus didn’t even glance at him. "Noted."

Barty scowled. "You keep saying that, and yet we keep doing these stupid things."

You smirked slightly, despite the tension crackling in the air. "And yet you keep coming."

Barty groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Because you two have a death wish, and apparently, I’m the only one who gives a shit."

Regulus’ voice was calm, quiet. "You give a shit because you care."

Barty scoffed. "Shut up, Black."

Before Regulus could respond, you stiffened. Footsteps. Three of them. You immediately pressed yourself lower against the stone, heart hammering. Regulus was still, calculating. Barty’s hand was already on his wand.

Then, a voice: "It’s me."

You exhaled, recognizing the voice of the Order member. Slowly, you stood, stepping out of your hiding place, Regulus and Barty moving with you.

"You’re late," you whispered.

The man—tall, broad-shouldered, his face lined with exhaustion—nodded grimly. "Ran into some trouble. Had to take a longer route." His gaze flickered to the two boys beside you. "I see you brought company."

"They’re with me," you said firmly.

The man studied them both for a long moment. "Black," he said, looking at Regulus. "Didn’t think I’d ever see you working against them."

Regulus didn’t blink. "You still haven’t."

The man raised a brow. "You’re here."

"To protect her," Regulus said smoothly.

Barty let out a scoff. "Yeah, well, same. I don’t give a shit about your little rebellion, mate."

The man didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he handed you a small, folded piece of parchment. "There’s going to be a raid. Tomorrow night. You know where."

Your stomach twisted. You knew exactly where.

Regulus was reading your expression like a book. "You’re not going."

You looked at him sharply. "I have to."

Barty let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, of course you do. Because throwing yourself into a fucking raid is such a brilliant plan."

You turned fully to them, your hands clenched into fists. "I don’t have a choice."

Barty stepped closer, anger flashing in his eyes. "There’s always a choice."

"Not for me."

Regulus exhaled, his voice calmer but just as firm. "We’ll go with you."

You hesitated. "Reg—"

"We’re going," he interrupted, voice final.

Barty groaned. "I hate you both. I really do."

Regulus smirked slightly. "No, you don’t."

Barty scowled. "I do. I hate you both so fucking much."

You sighed, exhaustion creeping into your bones. "We should go before someone finds us."

The Order member gave you a nod before disappearing into the night.

As soon as he was gone, Barty let out another dramatic groan. "I swear to Merlin, I should just let you both die one of these days."

Regulus hummed. "You won’t."

Barty shot him a glare. "I’m actually going to kill you, Black."

You rolled your eyes. "Can we go home now?"

Barty let out a breath, looking at you, his frustration melting into something softer. "Yeah. Let’s go home."

And with that, the three of you vanished into the darkness once more.

The next day came quickly.

The raid was chaos. Spells flew in every direction, lighting up the darkened alleyways in flashes of green, red, and white. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood and blood, the screams of both fighters and innocent people caught in the crossfire.

You moved quickly, ducking behind debris, sending hexes at Death Eaters while trying to get civilians to safety. Regulus was somewhere nearby, casting silent curses with deadly precision, and Barty—Barty was fighting like a man possessed, reckless and furious.

Everything was going to plan. Until it wasn’t.

You turned a corner, trying to get to the last group of civilians, when a hand grabbed your wrist. Before you could react, a Disillusionment Charm was lifted, revealing a group of masked Death Eaters waiting in the shadows.

It was a trap.

Cold fear shot down your spine as a wand was pressed against your throat. "Look at what we have here," a voice sneered. "The little rat."

Your stomach twisted.

They knew.

You struggled, trying to reach for your wand, but someone yanked it from your grasp, shoving you hard against the wall. The impact stole the breath from your lungs.

"Thought you could betray the Dark Lord and get away with it?" another voice hissed.

You tried to think, tried to find a way out, but there were too many of them. Your mind was racing, but before you could even attempt to escape, someone hit you with a spell—

"Crucio."

Pain exploded through your body, white-hot and unbearable. A scream tore from your throat as you collapsed, the ground cold and unforgiving beneath you. Your nerves were on fire, your body convulsing against the relentless torture.

The spell lifted for a moment, just long enough for you to gasp for breath, before another Death Eater crouched beside you, yanking your hair back so you were forced to look at them.

"How long?" they demanded. "How long have you been feeding them information?"

You gritted your teeth, blood dripping from your lip where you had bitten down to keep from screaming again.

"Fuck. You," you spat.

A hard slap cracked across your face.

"Wrong answer," the Death Eater growled.

Another curse slammed into you, sending fresh waves of agony coursing through your body. Your vision blurred, black spots dancing in your sight, but you refused to break.

You couldn’t.

Not too far away from where you were, your boys were having a heated argument.

Regulus was fuming. "You’re going to get yourself killed, Crouch."

Barty scoffed, wiping blood from his cheek. "And what the fuck do you call what we’re doing right now? A lovely evening stroll?"

"You’re reckless," Regulus snapped. "You don’t think. You act on impulse, and one day, it’s going to get you caught."

"Funny," Barty shot back, eyes narrowing. "Because I could say the same about you, Black. At least I know what I stand for. What the fuck do you believe in?"

Regulus stiffened, his expression unreadable.

"That’s what I thought," Barty muttered.

Before Regulus could respond, something changed. A shift in the air.

It took him a moment to realize what was wrong.

"You hear that?" he asked suddenly.

Barty frowned. "What?"

Regulus’ heartbeat picked up. "Exactly."

The sounds of battle were still loud, but something was missing.

You.

Regulus turned sharply, scanning the wreckage, the bodies, the flashes of spells, but you weren’t there. His chest tightened.

Barty must have realized it too, because his face paled.

"Where the fuck is she?"

Neither of them hesitated.

They ran.

Running but not fast enough.

Cold stone bit into your knees as you were thrown onto the dungeon floor. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, your body aching from the curses that had already been cast upon you. The Death Eaters loomed above, their masks concealing their faces, but you didn’t need to see them to know who they were.

You could hear Bellatrix’s delighted laughter before you even looked up.

"Oh, this is simply delicious," she cooed, stepping forward, her wand twirling lazily between her fingers. "The Dark Lord’s favorite little pet… a filthy traitor all along."

You swallowed hard, refusing to let her see your fear. You wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

Bellatrix crouched in front of you, tilting her head as she examined your bruised face. "Where are they?" she asked sweetly.

You blinked, confused.

"Your little lovers." Her lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Where are they now, hm? Surely they would’ve come storming in to save you by now, if they cared so much."

You clenched your jaw. "They’ll come," you rasped.

Bellatrix’s laughter echoed through the chamber. "Oh, darling," she purred. "No, they won’t. You’re alone. Just like you always were."

You glared up at her, forcing yourself to meet her wild, dark eyes. "Do whatever you want to me," you spat. "I’m not telling you anything."

Bellatrix let out a delighted gasp. "Oh, I was hoping you’d say that."

And then—

"Crucio."

Pain, unbearable and all-consuming, shot through your body. Your back arched violently as a scream tore from your throat. It felt like fire in your veins, like your bones were breaking from the inside out. Every nerve burned, every muscle spasmed, and the agony was endless.

Bellatrix giggled, letting the curse linger before finally releasing it. "My, my," she mused, watching as you gasped for air. "You’re strong. I like that."

You panted, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Go to hell," you croaked.

Bellatrix feigned offense. "Now, that’s not very nice, is it?" She reached forward, running her fingers along your jaw mockingly. You wanted to recoil, but your body was too weak to move.

"You’re going to tell me everything," she whispered, her voice sickeningly sweet. "How long have you been betraying the Dark Lord? Who else is involved?"

You lifted your head slightly, your lips curling into a bloodied smirk. "You’re not as smart as you think you are," you murmured.

Bellatrix’s face twisted in rage. "Crucio!"

The pain returned, worse than before. Your vision blurred, black spots dancing before your eyes. You knew this could kill you if it went on long enough.

And maybe that would be better.

Maybe it would be easier than giving them the chance to break you.

But you weren’t broken yet.

Not yet.

Meanwhile, Regulus and Barty were losing their minds.

"She was right there!" Barty snapped, his eyes wild with panic and fury. "How the fuck did we let this happen?"

Regulus didn’t answer. His hands were shaking.

They had searched every corner of the battlefield, but you were gone. Vanished. Taken.

"We need to think," Regulus muttered, trying to suppress the sheer terror clawing at his chest. "They wouldn’t kill her immediately. They’d want information first."

Barty ran a hand through his hair, his breath ragged. "They’ll torture her," he whispered.

Regulus swallowed hard. "I know."

Barty turned on him, grabbing his collar. "She’s not like us, Reg," he hissed. "She’s strong, but she’s not like us. We grew up with this. She didn’t. They’re going to break her."

Regulus stared at him, eyes dark and unreadable. "No, they won’t."

Barty let go of him, pacing. "We have to find her. We have to—"

"We will," Regulus interrupted. His voice was eerily calm, but Barty could see the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. "We’re getting her back."

Barty met his eyes.

"Whatever it takes," Regulus added.

Barty nodded. "Whatever it takes."

Saving each other.

Your body was barely holding on. Your wrists ached from where they had been bound, your head was spinning from the sheer pain coursing through every inch of your body, and you could feel the warmth of blood dripping from your temple, your lip, your ribs. Everything hurt.

And then, suddenly, you heard them.

A scuffle, the sound of struggling, and then—

"Barty—Regulus—?" Your voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

They were here.

But it didn’t matter.

Because they had been captured too.

Your heart twisted violently as you watched them being dragged into the room, their wands ripped from their hands, their arms forced behind their backs as Death Eaters shoved them to their knees.

"Ah, now this is a sight," Bellatrix mused, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "The Dark Lord’s three little favorites, reduced to this. Isn’t it just tragic?"

Regulus’ eyes snapped to you, and the second he saw the state you were in, something in him shifted. His normally cold, unreadable expression cracked—just for a second. Just long enough for you to see the sheer, unfiltered rage and fear burning beneath the surface.

Barty, on the other hand, was already losing it. "You fucking bitch!" he roared, trying to lunge at Bellatrix, but the Death Eater behind him yanked him back harshly. "I swear to Merlin, I will rip you apart with my bare hands—"

Bellatrix only laughed, delighted by his fury. "Oh, how precious," she cooed. "Look at him, so protective of his little pet."

She turned back to you, crouching down so she was at eye level. "I wonder," she mused, dragging her wand along your bruised cheek. "Would you be more willing to talk now that your lovers are here? Or should I make them watch a little longer?"

You spat at her.

Bellatrix’s smile disappeared.

And then she backhanded you across the face so hard your head snapped to the side, a fresh burst of pain blooming across your cheekbone.

"You fucking touch her again, and I’ll kill you!" Barty snarled, his voice raw, desperate. He was thrashing against his restraints now, barely being held back by the Death Eaters pinning him down.

Regulus’ voice was quieter, but no less deadly. "You’ll regret this," he said, his tone eerily even. "Every single one of you."

Bellatrix chuckled. "Oh, will I? And what exactly are you going to do, little Black? You don’t even have your wand."

Regulus didn’t respond. He only stared at her, his silver eyes glinting with something cold.

Bellatrix smirked. "Well, in that case, let’s continue, shall we?"

And then—

"Crucio."

Your screams tore through the chamber once again.

Barty’s entire body tensed like he had been physically struck, his breathing erratic. "Stop—STOP!" he shouted, his voice breaking. "PLEASE!"

Regulus wasn’t speaking. He was staring at you, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful, his entire body trembling with restrained fury.

Bellatrix lifted the curse, smiling. "Oh, did that upset you, boys?" she taunted. "Are you feeling… helpless?"

Barty was panting, his entire body shaking. "I swear to fucking Merlin," he rasped, "I will kill you. I will fucking kill you, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix only laughed again, twirling her wand between her fingers. "Now, now, that’s not a very nice way to talk to a lovely woman like me, is it?"

She turned back to you, running her wand along your collarbone. "Now, love," she purred, "are you ready to talk?"

You lifted your head slowly, meeting her gaze despite the agony radiating through your body. And then, through cracked lips and bloodied teeth, you smiled.

"Go to hell."

Bellatrix sighed dramatically. "Wrong answer."

And then the pain came again.

This time, you heard Barty scream your name.

And then—

Then you heard Regulus.

Not screaming.

Not begging.

His voice was calm. Cold.

"Let us go," he said simply.

Bellatrix looked at him in amusement. "Oh? And why would I do that?"

Regulus didn’t blink. "Because if you don’t," he said, "you’re going to wish you had killed me when you had the chance."

There was something terrifying in the way he said it.

Something that made even Bellatrix pause for half a second.

But then she smirked. "Oh, I do love empty threats."

She turned her wand back on you.

And this time, when the pain came, it didn’t stop.

Bellatrix finally lifted the curse, and your body collapsed onto the cold, stone floor, chest heaving, every nerve still screaming from the aftermath of the Cruciatus Curse. Sweat and blood mixed on your skin, your limbs trembling violently, but you didn’t let out another sound. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Regulus and Barty had gone deathly silent.

The second the curse lifted, Regulus’ expression hardened into something terrifying—something unshakable. His silver eyes burned with pure hatred, and yet, his face remained eerily calm, like a frozen lake hiding something deadly beneath the surface.

Barty, on the other hand, was still breathing heavily, his body straining against the Death Eaters holding him back. His entire face was flushed with rage, his eyes wild. He was ready to kill.

Bellatrix tilted her head, examining you with an almost lazy curiosity. "My, my," she mused. "Still so stubborn, aren’t you?" She crouched beside you again, running her wand along the side of your face as if she were admiring a piece of art. "I must admit, I’m impressed. Not many last this long without breaking."

Your breath was shaky, but you still managed to glare at her, your lip curling despite the pain. "You talk too much," you rasped.

Bellatrix let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, I do like you," she said, almost fondly. Then, she glanced over her shoulder at the two boys. "What about you, dear cousin?" she purred, locking eyes with Regulus. "Is it painful? Watching your little girlfriend suffer?"

Regulus didn’t react. His face remained a perfect mask of indifference. "You’re pathetic," he said quietly.

Bellatrix’s smirk twitched.

"Really, Bella?" he continued, voice smooth as silk, laced with venom. "Using me against her? That’s the best you can do?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You think I care about you?" Regulus scoffed, tilting his head. "You think I’ve ever cared about any of you?" He leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping lower. "You are nothing to me."

Something flickered in Bellatrix’s expression.

"Aw, is the little Black boy finally growing a spine?" she cooed, but there was a slight edge to her voice now. "Careful, Regulus. That sounds a lot like treason."

Regulus smirked. "So kill me."

Bellatrix’s jaw clenched.

And then, before she could say another word—

"You fucking touch him, and I will burn this entire place to the ground," Barty growled.

Bellatrix turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that, Crouch? Without your wand?"

Barty’s eyes were wild with fury. "I don’t need a wand to rip you apart."

Bellatrix let out a breathy chuckle, clearly amused, and turned fully toward him, slowly walking closer. "You’re quite the feral little thing, aren’t you?" she mused, circling him like a predator. "It’s a wonder the Dark Lord keeps you around."

Barty bared his teeth. "He keeps me around because I’m useful," he sneered. "Unlike you."

Bellatrix’s expression darkened.

In an instant, she lashed out, backhanding Barty across the face. His head snapped to the side, a thin trail of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Regulus’ entire body tensed.

You could barely lift your head, but when you saw the way Barty slowly turned back to face her, his eyes burning with something dark, something terrifying—you knew she had made a mistake.

Barty licked the blood off his lip and smiled. "You hit like a fucking coward," he muttered.

Bellatrix’s grip on her wand tightened.

"Enough," a voice commanded.

One of the older Death Eaters stepped forward, his voice heavy with authority. "The Dark Lord wants them alive. We still need answers." He turned to Bellatrix. "Torturing the girl further might kill her. And we need her conscious."

Bellatrix sighed dramatically, but she stepped back, twirling her wand between her fingers. "Fine," she drawled. "Then let’s see if the boys are more willing to talk."

Two Death Eaters grabbed Regulus, dragging him forward.

"Get your fucking hands off him!" Barty snarled, but another fist slammed into his stomach, making him double over, coughing violently.

Regulus didn’t resist. He didn’t fight.

He just looked at you.

And in that single glance, you knew—he wasn’t afraid.

Bellatrix leaned down in front of him, gripping his chin tightly, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Tell me, cousin," she purred. "Do you know what she’s been up to?"

Regulus didn’t even blink. "No."

Bellatrix smiled. "Liar."

She nodded at one of the men. A fist slammed into Regulus’ ribs, but he didn’t even flinch.

Bellatrix clicked her tongue. "You always were the quieter one," she mused. "The good boy. Mother’s favorite." She leaned in closer. "Tell me, Regulus, does it kill you to know that Sirius abandoned you?"

Regulus’ face remained unreadable. "You don’t know anything about me."

Bellatrix chuckled. "Oh, but I do," she whispered. "I know that no matter how much you pretend otherwise, you’re still the scared little boy who always did what he was told." She smiled sweetly. "You never had a choice, did you?"

Regulus’ fingers twitched, as if itching for a wand he no longer had.

"Tell me the truth," Bellatrix murmured. "And I’ll let her go."

Regulus finally spoke. "Go fuck yourself."

Bellatrix’s smirk faltered.

Another punch.

Another.

Regulus took each one in silence, his jaw locked, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Then it was Barty’s turn.

"Last chance, Crouch," one of the Death Eaters sneered. "Tell us what you know."

Barty spat blood onto the floor, grinning through crimson-stained teeth. "Kiss my ass."

A boot slammed into his stomach.

Then another.

And still, neither of them spoke.

Neither of them broke.

You tried to move, tried to reach for them, but your body wouldn’t obey.

You could only watch.

And pray that this wouldn’t be the end.

—— ☄️ ——

A note from the author:

Hello beautiful people!

I was NOT expecting for this to have two parts.

I had to stop writing because somehow Tumblr has a limit? I didn't even know about it.

So here's part two.

This story was a challenge for me to write, but i hope you all liked it as much as i did.

See you soon!

#barty crouch jr #regulus black #regulus black x you #regulus black x reader #barty crouch junior #barty crouch x reader #barty crouch x regulus black #marauders era #harry potter #fanfic #x reader #x yn #slytherin #slytherin skittles #voldemort #james potter

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