#they only realized what they did when they woke up the next day but then 'hm? this isn't bad tho?'

[connorsui]

“ Irresistibly Drawn ”

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Satoru is usually unfazed by the world around him, but now he finds himself obsessed with you, torn between playful teasing and a deepening affection.

Genre/warnings: fluff is so soft, light Jealousy on gojos part, playful banter ,unspoken feelings, pining, gojos six eyes are constantly looking at you with hearts all over

Note: suguru lowkey would be a good bf

w.c: 1.5K

It was a peculiar thing, the way Satoru Gojo found himself inexorably drawn to you. A man of unparalleled talent, charisma, and presence, he was rarely one to be captivated by anything that did not directly challenge him. Yet here he was, seated in his usual spot in the back of Yaga's class, his cerulean eyes drifting toward you like the moon tugs at the tide.

You sat just a few rows ahead, head slightly tilted in concentration, your brow furrowed as you absorbed Yaga’s lesson. For the life of him, Satoru couldn’t tell you what the class was about. Not because he couldn’t, but because it didn’t matter. Nothing in that moment mattered except the way you were lost in thought. He felt a strange satisfaction in knowing you were this focused on something, but all he could think about was how lovely you looked—how the sunlight spilling through the window softly illuminated the curve of your cheek, the strands of your hair that framed your face.

He leaned back in his chair, one long leg casually crossing over the other, as if utterly indifferent to the world. Yet beneath the veneer of laid-back carelessness was a growing restlessness, an unfamiliar tension that knotted in his chest. Why were his eyes always drawn to you? Why did it bother him when Suguru leaned in close to offer you help, his warm laugh filling the room as you fumbled through the training exercises?

Satoru had never considered himself jealous. Jealousy was a weakness, and he was anything but weak. But when Suguru’s hand had brushed yours that day, when he'd caught you mid-stumble with an effortless grace, a smile playing on his lips, Satoru’s jaw had tightened. His fists had clenched at his sides, the itch to intervene almost unbearable. He hadn’t, of course. That wasn’t his style. But the irritation simmered beneath his calm exterior, the feeling foreign and unwelcome. That even his own six eyes grew in irritation.

She wouldn't choose suguru over us would she?

He's a certified pretty boy on both ends of the spectrum losing to him would feel worse than anything we have dealt with

Not unless we get to her first

Are we seeing the exact same thing?

Her heart is increasing

Let's just play it safe…for now ..

That evening, he’d found himself sprawled on his dorm bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the scene in his mind. Why did it bother him so much? Why was it Suguru’s grin, your laughter, the brief contact of your hands that haunted him?

When Yaga had offhandedly commented on Satoru’s distraction during class—teasingly suggesting that someone had “taken up residence in his mind”—it was like a light had flickered on in the darkest corners of his consciousness. The realization hit him all at once, as sudden and unavoidable as a torrent breaking a dam. It wasn’t jealousy he felt.

It was something much worse. He was smitten.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, the invincible prodigy, was utterly and hopelessly smitten with you. And it terrified him.

The next morning, he woke with a pounding heart, the memory of Yaga’s teasing and his own restless thoughts gnawing at him. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn’t think straight. Suguru’s knowing laughter had echoed in his ears after he’d confided in him, and though Satoru had laughed it off, the weight of it sat heavy in his chest. There was only one way to settle this.

So when he spotted you after class, your figure small and unassuming as you descended the steps, he found himself moving before he could think. His long strides carried him toward you, the steady thrum of his heart growing louder with each step. He felt like a fool. Satoru Gojo, who had never been nervous in his life, now felt his pulse racing, his stomach twisting with a kind of anticipation that was wholly unfamiliar.

When you finally came into view, your feet barely making a sound as you stepped lightly on the path, he stopped in his tracks. You looked up at him with those wide, curious eyes, a slight smile playing at your lips. It was the kind of smile that made something in him soften, that reminded him just how fragile this feeling was, how much power you unknowingly held over him.

“Satoru?” Your voice was gentle, laced with surprise, and it hung in the air between you both, soft like the afternoon breeze.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, words caught somewhere between his mind and lips. How could he, the one who always knew exactly what to say, find himself so completely undone in your presence?

What do we say?

Say something…

.. she's looking straight at us

For a brief moment, the idea of deflecting with one of his usual jokes crossed his mind—a laugh, a quip, something to brush this moment away. But the look in your eyes stopped him. There was a warmth, an openness, that seemed to unravel all of his carefully constructed bravado.

“I—” he began, hesitating, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

The confession felt startlingly simple, but its weight settled in the air between you, thick with unspoken meaning. You blinked, taken aback for a heartbeat…

That's the best we can come up with?

We have done better than this ..

before a smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a knowing smile, one that made his heart stutter in his chest.

“Is that so?” you asked, a light laugh escaping your lips as you tilted your head at him. “And what exactly am I supposed to make of that? Do you actually mean it, Satoru, or is this just another one of your games?”

His smirk silently returned, the familiar glint of humor and charisma flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I mean it. I don’t throw around compliments unless they’re deserved. And trust me, you’ve been distracting me all day.”

Your smile deepened, but your voice carried a playful edge as you crossed your arms. “Distracting you, huh? Should I feel honored? Or is this just your way of telling me you’ve been spacing out instead of actually ”

“Heyyyy,” he leaned in ever so slightly, the mischievous grin never leaving his face, “can you blame me thoughhh? You’re a lot easier on the eyes than whatever there is going on. Honestly, I think you’ve made my life more bearable to deal with.”

You rolled your eyes, but your expression softened in amusement. “Is that all I am to you? Just a way to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Satoru said, and for a moment, his voice lost some of its teasing lilt. “If you must know, I’ve been thinking about you—quite a bit, actually.” His gaze held yours for a moment longer, the humor in his tone giving way to something more genuine.

I can't read to her …

Well read harder?

Her heart is steady

And her eyes are so direct to us

..Is she teasing?

There was a pause before you spoke again, the playful spark still dancing in your eyes. “Well, since you’ve been so preoccupied with me, what are you going to do about it?”

He blinked, a bit caught off guard, but quickly recovered with a low chuckle, brushing a hand through his hair as he leaned back with that signature ease. “I was thinking of taking you out far with me …something to ease up our little life into something far more exciting..maybe some fun in the city?”

“Hmm,” you mused, feigning thoughtfulness. “And what makes you think I’d accept such an offer?”

Satoru grinned, the confidence returning full force as he straightened up. “Cmoonn you really going to say no to me?, your favorite? —letting go of such an offer as my wallet in your hands?”

You shook your head, laughing softly at his audacity, but there was a flicker of excitement in your smile. “Alright then, why don’t you meet me outside the tech’s gates later? And we’ll see if you can keep me as entertained in person as you claim.”

Satoru’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it with his usual bravado. “Wait, you mean today? ...Like, today today?”

You giggled, taking a step back, your laughter light as it filled the space between you. “Yes, today. If you really mean what you say, I’d love to see you try.”

This is working

How is this working?

Don't question it

He felt his heart skip, his usual mask slipping for a moment as something warmer, more real, surfaced beneath the swagger. “Then I guess I’ll have to bring my A-game. But don’t think I’ll let you win so easily. I’ve still got a reputation to uphold.”

You turned with a playful smile, your voice drifting back to him as you walked away. “Oh, don’t worry, Gojo. I’m expecting a challenge.”

He watched you leave, his grin widening as a thought flickered in his mind—perhaps, just this once, losing wouldn’t be so bad.

Listen I just want a smitten gojo who wants us internally ...mmhkay?

[azu1as]

Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!

It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.

So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estate—because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.

The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.

However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.

Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.

He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.

For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.

"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"

The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."

"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"

The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."

The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.

It snowballs from there.

All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.

The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.

Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!

On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.

Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.

Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.

It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.

The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.

And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.

%%%

Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.

'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.

"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.

Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."

He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!

"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.

Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua for—

"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."

—?????

"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.

"Yup. It's going to be great."

"No."

"'No'?"

Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.

...

...Oh no.

"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.

"...Sect Leader?"

Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!

The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.

"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."

Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"

Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.

If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.

And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.

((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))

"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.

But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrong—!

"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"

[arionawrites]

1. it’s my 24th birthday today, so my goal of being published by the time i’m 25 is now a one year looming monster, but i never specified what kind of published and am currently looking in various literary magazines that are recommended for writers who have yet to be published, so i’m surprisingly confident that i can make it work? and tbh even if whatever i write isn’t officially published before my 25th birthday, if i have someone in the process of being published then i’ll be happy!! no matter what though, i’m gonna try to be proud of myself for at least giving it my best shot!!

2. i honestly love that my birthday is on the ides of march because the ides of march meme shitposting is only a thing on tumblr but it also being my birthday makes it easier to like. be excited about the ides of march outside of tumblr. like even in person i can be like “it’s my birthday! i’m an ides of march babe (:” and if someone is like oh what’s that? or if they say something along the lines of oh like julius caesar? i can be like yep!! and even if it’s a small thing outside of tumblr it brings me immense enjoyment and amusement being able to bring it up off of tumblr

3. transportation situation has been very rough since june 2023 when i totalled my car, my gap insurance are being assholes and i ended up putting my foot down on the phone with them yesterday which i’m pretty proud of because i am NOT a confrontational person (something i’ve been working on this past year, so seeing some improvement with my ability to hold my ground and not be a pushover yesterday was very cool!!) i was told i’d get a response from them by friday next week no matter what, and if i don’t then friday of next week i will continue to wreak havoc upon them. but my moms car which i’ve been using since my accident broke down yesterday, hopefully it’s fixable but my parents were saying it might be done for, so trying to think of how i’m gonna get to work next week is kind of stressing me out lmao, but for now i’m just gonna focus on enjoying my birthday the best i can because i don’t want to start off being 24 with an overwhelming anxiety for something that won’t be a potential issue until monday. plus i already messaged my boss today to let her know that i’m going to do everything i can to make it work out but just so she’s in the loop and knows of the potential of me not being able to make my morning shifts (one of my coworkers said she’s more than happy to give me a ride for our afternoon shifts which does help relieve some of the stress!) and i told her i’d let her know for sure sunday so that if necessary she can have time to figure out someone to fill in for me in the mornings!

overall: life is weird and i ended being 23 yesterday with a shitty situation but a positive outlook and i am going to enjoy my first day of being 24 no matter what because honestly i fucking earned it. happy friday everyone, i hope it’s a good day for you and me both!

[2tcs]

DCxDP Prompt

Ah. It's good to hear the voice of god above me instead of below. Dick thinks as he begins to wake up more and realizes that it's Jason’s voice yelling above him. 

Wait. Why is his voice above me? Where am I? Suddenly Dick shoots up from where he is lying, only for pain to flare in his hip and up his side.

“Hay Mr. Nightwing? Are you awake?” A little boy asks as two kids open the door to the room he was in.

How did I get here?

“See Dan? I told you I heard him moving around.” The little girl said as she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“Mama said that you should never ashoom anything and should always verify.” The little boy, Dan said with an adorable glare.

“Your Mama is right. It's not good to make assumptions. By the way, where is your Mama?” Dick asked trying to derail the argument he could see coming and hoping to get some answers.

“Mama is in the kitchen making supper. You slept the whooole day. But Mama wouldn't let us wake you up. She said that you needed your sleep because you were hurt. Are you still hurt Mr. Nightwing?” The little girl said while bouncing on her toes.

“Mama will want to know you're awake.” Dan said before grabbing his sister's hand and dragging her out of the room.

Watching them go Dick decided to take another look around the room. Other than the bed and a dresser the room was pretty barren of personality. Not even a window to break up the monotony of the room's walls. Must be a guest bed then. Dick thought as he managed to get up and hobbled his way to the main area of the apartment.

“Good morning Mr. Nightwing. Or good evening? Never mind. If you want you can go sit down while I finish making supper.” A man who looks around his mid-twenties said from the kitchen. “How are you feeling? You were pretty banged up when you came in last night but I managed to pop your hip back in place and stitched up your side. You really should sit down so you don't aggravate your hip. I am sorry if the kids woke you up.” He said, only for the sound of something hitting a wall and more yelling before what sounded like a door slamming and everything going quiet filtered down to them from the upstairs apartment. “Or my neighbor. He's normally really quiet.”

“It's okay. And thanks for patching me up Mr…?”

“Oh. Sorry. I'm Danny. My daughter over there is Ellie and my son is Dan.”

“Well thank you Danny. But can I ask how I got here?” Dick asked as he sat down.

“You climbed in through the window!” Ellie said excitedly.

“I think you thought it was an old safe house because you unlocked the window and came in before passing out. Ellie…” Danny said with a stern look at his daughter “had apparently decided she needed a midnight snack saw you come in.”

“Ya, probably. I don't remember much of what happened last night.” Dick admitted as he watched Danny plate up food and started handing it out to Dick and the kids before sitting on the couch with his own plate as his kids ate next to him.

“Hmm. You might have a bit of a concussion. You should probably call someone to pick you up if you can’t remember anything.”

After eating Dick opened his com and notified everyone where he was and that he needed help getting home. He'll have to figure out a way to thank Danny for his help. After dealing with the batlecture and his sibling's teasing.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic Idea: Marriage trap the Office supplier!

Danny had developed an appreciation for office supplies. He didn't know where it came from; just that one day, as he was cleaning his parents' office, he noticed their invoices and Order forms were out of order, so he chose to organize the binders.

It was just to make things easier to find the information when Tax season came around, but he found a strange joy in locating the correct stamps to mark each form.

Approved with a little thumbs up.

E-mailed with a flying envelope.

Entered with a little arrow.

Scanned with a picture of a scanning machine. Completed with a little check mark. Even the Cancelled and its accompanying x-out circle made him feel giggly.

Before long, Danny went hunting from some dividers and was excited to assign colors to certain tasks. He even made sure to separate everything by the order in which it was completed. By the time he was done, he realized he had no more use for his stamps, so he chose to go about the rest of the office.

He did not sleep that night. The next morning, the Fentons woke to their office lab in its best state since they had moved in. Everything had a place, and everything was neat and tidy with Danny happily explaining his organization system- all written down and marked on colorful legal pads he found shoved in a box.

Since then, Danny would excitably talk about the newest pen, sticky note, paperclips, or paper clamps he had found. Often, they were in strange shapes- "Look, Dad, these are sticky notes shaped like toast inside a Toaster holder!"- and no one could tell why it bought him such joy.

Even desk organizers excited him, often seen changing up his things every once in a while with new highlighters or traveling pens. His two best friends were often spotted walking behind Danny at any store within a fifty-mile radius of Amity Park that sold office supplies.

But that meant no one was surprised when Danny eagerly announced he would work in an office until he had enough money to open his own stationery store. What was surprising was that Danny somehow managed to find a job at Wayne Enterprise right out of high school as an office admin assistant.

A high-ranked one. He was the right-hand man to Bruce Wayne himself, working as a personal assistant then anyhting else.

It was clear across state lines no one knows how Danny even managed to land an interview since Mr. Wayne asked for at least a bachelor in office management to even apply or that Danny seemed unworried about living in a crime-infested city working for the man that was target a lot due to his wealth.

Danny only talked about all the superb brands of pens and notepads he would get with his new salary.

What was more shocking was how efficant Danny was at his job. He breezed through his work like a pro, getting Mr. Wayne on time every time (no one knows how) and cheerfully gaining the approval of the board.

Danny often stepped in for Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne-Drake or Mr. Fox, quietly becoming known as "Third-in-Comand" at WE despite the fact everyone knew him as "just the admin assistant"

He was also known for being very excited to show his desk to the office, covered in cute or interesting supplies from around the world. He spent hours schooling through websites and making wishlists of things he wanted to buy and try out.

Danny Fenton was a gift among the staff. He ran the office like a smoothly oiled machine, employing new systems and communication means that errors rarely happened in different departments.

WE genuinely feared the day he would leave the company to open that store. They tried to bride him by offering to pay his entire college career and make him a head of any department he wanted, or even officially give him Mr. Wayne's PA position but Danny insisted he wanted to open his store someday.

A plan was hatched by a low-level intern who had personally seen Danny take minutes with an invisible-ink pen and black light at his interview, only to witness the man fight for his right to have a paid internship and full benefits.

He mentioned how convient it was that Danny was close to every member of the Waynes. Yes. Bruce Wayne made it clear he would not be adopting the boy seeing as he was too old for that but what if....they ensured Danny stayed with WE if they made it the family bussiness?

Danny could still be a Wayne. They just had to get him to marry into the family, and WE could keep the embodiment of an office employee forever.

His idea spread through the company like wild fire, and not long, every single person who's checks were signed by Bruce Wayne was gunning for a chance to give Danny and a Wayne a wedding.

(Unknown to them, Danny is the hero Phantom, who, upon learning Batman's ID, instantly asked to work for him in an office setting because he wanted to open a stationery shop one day. Feeling blackmailed, Bruce allowed it, thinking he would catch Danny lacking, only to....find out the kid genuinely loved his job? And was good at it?

His kids are close to him as fellow vigilantes and are unaware of the WE employee's goal.

Danny just really likes Office Supplies. It might have something to do with his Ghost Obsession changing, or it's a Specail interest. He doesn't really care for the reason)

[ahsokaismyqueen]

Stay Stay Stay Pairing - Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary - Until you met Tyler, you'd only had shitty boyfriends who would leave at the first sign of trouble or when you started to get too attached. Tyler Owens however is there to show you that he's in it for the long run, even when he finds out you're pregnant with his child. Word Count - 4.5k Warnings - Pregnant Reader, but this is just 4k words of pure fluff based on Taylor Swift's Stay Stay Stay ngl.

You woke up feeling miserable. You had barely gotten any sleep, staying up most of the night crying, and all you could think about was how stupid the fight you and Tyler had seemed now. You glanced over at the clock on your bedside table, and shot up when you realized how late it was. Tyler might have already gone, and now you wouldn’t get the chance to say how sorry you were. The fear of that gripping your chest had you rolling out of bed and out the door. What you saw in the hallway however, had you stopping in your tracks. 

 As soon as you shut the door behind you, Tyler jolted awake from his spot on the floor, rubbing his eyes. He was still in his clothes from last night, the button up and jeans, complete with cowboy boots. “You stayed out here all night?” You asked, emotion tight in your throat. 

Tyler looked up at you, brushing his hair back from his face. “Of course I did. Didn’t know if you might need me or not after those nightmares you’ve been having.” 

“But - but I threw something-”

“Your phone.” He informed you. 

Heat rushed to your face in embarrassment. “-My phone at you.” 

“I don’t know if I’d really say ‘at me’. If so, your aim was pretty off for someone who used to play baseball.” He said, and he started to move so he could stand up. 

Before he could though, you bent down and scrambled into his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around him as the tears fell down your cheeks. 

He let out a surprised grunt, but put his arms around you as well. “To be honest, not the greeting I was expecting this morning.” He said in a strained voice, probably because you were squeezing him so tight. 

“I thought you left already, and I didn’t want you to leave mad at me, because if something happened to you out there. . .” You wondered if he could even understand you with the way your tears messed with your breathing, but you had to tell him. The thought of him leaving while the two of you were mad at each other made you feel sick. 

“Hey,” Tyler started running a hand through your hair, the comfort of the motion easing into you. “I wasn’t about to leave without talking to you. I told them I’d catch up.” You closed your eyes as you felt his lips against the side of your head. “And you know I can’t leave without my good luck kiss.” 

You pulled back so you could look at him when you said this. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I got so mad. I’ve just been all over the place lately, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’m mad one second, the next I’m sobbing, then I can’t keep my eyes open, and the next second I feel like I’m going to die if I’m not jumping your bones-”

Tyler reached up and brushed your tears away with his thumb. “That one’s my favorite.” He said with a smirk. 

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. “I think I’m going crazy.” 

“Baby, you chase tornados in your spare time. Pretty sure by most people’s standards you are crazy,” he said, putting some hair behind your ear. 

You shook your head, and playfully smacked him in the chest. “I’m serious. I mean I know I get a little crazy around-” the thought hit you like a freight train. “Tyler, what’s today?” 

His brow furrowed, his smirk turning into a frown. “Sunday . . .”

“No! I mean what day of the month?” Were the calculations you were doing in your head right? Had the time passed that quickly? 

“It’s the 11th. Why?” 

Oh god. You gripped his face in your hands. “Ty, I’m late.” 

Tyler squinted at you. “Did you have somewhere to go . . . ?” 

You shook your head, your eyes wide with panic. “No, Tyler. I’m late.” You grabbed one of his arms and put his hand on your stomach, giving him a significant look. 

It was funny, how you could almost see the gears moving in his mind. It was like when he was trying to decide what storm to chase. You could tell the exact moments your words and actions landed. His eyes widened, and he glanced down at your stomach, then you. “You’re late . . . For that?” 

You nodded, watching his face for his reaction. It was an accident of course. The two of you tried to be careful, but one night a couple of months ago after an insane chase . . . The adrenaline got the better of both of you. While you had known you could get pregnant, you thought the chances of it happening the one time you didn’t use protection couldn’t be that high. Well, the universe might be proving you wrong. You weren’t sure how you felt about the possibility, but you were damn sure terrified of what Tyler might be thinking. 

You didn’t need to be. 

A slow grin started to spread on his face, and within seconds you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder and into the air. 

Letting out a little shriek, you grabbed a hold of his shirt. “Tyler! Put me down!” 

“Can’t! Got to go buy a pregnancy test.” He said, giving you a smack on the ass that made you squeal again. 

“We can’t! I’m not wearing pants!” 

“You don’t need pants to take a pregnancy test!” He said. 

A laugh left your lips at that, but then you smacked his back to get his attention. “Ty, what about the crew? They’re waiting on you. I can take the test, and call you-”

He put you down then, his hands holding your face and making you look at him. “If you think there is anything more important to me right now than this, you’re wrong.”  

It almost embarrassed you that you had thought for even a second any different. “I might not be, you know? I could actually be losing my mind.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Either way, there’s no place I’d rather be right now than here with you.” He said, sliding his hands down to grab your own, then leaned forward to give you one of the sweetest kisses you’ve ever had in your life, all gentle and tender, enough to almost bring tears back to your eyes. “Now, there’s my good luck kiss.” He said once he pulled away. 

“And what do you need good luck for, huh Owens?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 

He smirked at you. “I’ll tell you later.” 

And he did. In about five months after he shot fireworks up in a tornado to reveal you were having a boy, just like he wanted. 

————————

“Ty! I can pick up potatoes. I’m barely showing.” You said, shaking your head at him as he dived in front of you to get the sack of potatoes before you could. 

He put them in the grocery cart, leaning over it and crossing his arms. “See, I know that, but the gentleman in me won’t let the woman carrying my son do something as lowly as pick up potatoes.” 

You rolled your eyes. It was sweet, but you knew it was also going to drive you crazy. “If you don’t let me do some things I might murder you in your sleep. I hope you know that.” 

Tyler raised his eyebrows at you, pretending to look confused. “Then who would reach all the stuff on the top shelf?” He asked, his expression morphing into a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“I guess I’ll have to find another tall, handsome cowboy. Shouldn’t be too hard.” You teased, and then grabbed the cart, pushing it past him. 

He stopped you, grabbing you around the waist, holding you back against his chest and pressing a kiss against your neck. “Unfortunately, you’ll find I’m very hard to replace.” He murmured against your skin. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, elbowing him in the side. “All right cowboy, if you’re going to not let me pick anything up heavier than three pounds, go do me a favor and get the water. Lily said you guys are running low, and the weather conditions for the weekend look rough.” 

Tyler pressed another kiss against your neck, and then let you go. “Whatever you say ma’am.” 

You watched him walk away, a sight you always enjoyed in those jeans, then hurried up to get as many of your groceries as you could before Tyler came back to not let you do anything again. 

“Well, look who it is.” 

Oh god, you knew that voice. It was one you hadn’t heard in years now, and one you hoped never to hear again. You almost didn’t want to turn around so you could pretend it wasn’t there, but you knew this person wasn’t going to allow that to happen. It would hurt his ego too much. Turning around, you let out a sigh at the familiar face. “Hey, Charles.” 

Your ex was a dick. In fact almost all of your exes were dicks. Until you started dating Tyler, you hadn’t known what it was like to date someone that put you above themselves. Charles was no different. In fact, he was one of the worst, and the way he was looking at you right now made you want to throw up. Or maybe that was the morning sickness . . . 

“I’ve got to say,” he looked you up and down. “You’re looking good.” 

Nope, it wasn't morning sickness. “Thanks.” You replied, moving your cart so you could go around him. Hopefully you could make a quick escape and pretend this whole interaction had never happened. “It was good seeing you.” Lies. 

He grabbed the cart, stopping you in your tracks. “Wait a second. Don’t you think we should catch up some? I mean it’s been-”

“Five years.” You answered, your hands squeezing the handle of the cart. 

He smirked. “You kept track?” 

You wanted to smack that expression off his face, “to celebrate.” 

The nice facade faded upon your words. “You know, I thought maybe you’d changed over the years, but it seems like you’re still a-”

“Got the waters!” You breathed a quick little sigh of relief as Tyler came to a stop beside you, carrying not one, but two packs of water. He placed them in the cart, flipped his baseball cap around backwards, and put his hand on the small of your back. “Who’s this?” Tyler asked with his charming grin. 

You took a step closer to Tyler, not because you were scared of Charles, but because you liked the comfort of his presence. Something you never felt with the douche in front of you now. “You remember me telling you about Charles? This is him.” 

To Charles, Tyler showed no response to the name, but you felt the hand on your back press a little harder against your skin. Tyler turned to look at you, and there was a little glimmer in his eyes when he spoke. “I don’t actually. Are you sure you’ve mentioned someone named Charles before?” 

You had to bite back a smirk once you realized what he was up to. “Yeah, I think so.” You played along. 

“Hmmm, I must not have thought it was that important. Anyway, Tyler Owens.” He held out his hand to Charles, and you watched Charles’s face with delight. Not only had Tyler made him feel unimportant, something you knew from experience he couldn’t stand, but Tyler was . . . a big man. At least a foot taller than Charles, and more muscles on him than this guy could ever hope to have. You didn’t however expect the look of disbelief that crossed his face. 

“Tyler Owens? The tornado wrangler?” He asked, almost too shocked to shake his hand, but then he collected himself and reached for Tyler’s. 

“The very same.” He said. “Though I’ve got to say, I think my favorite title is her future husband.” He said, nodding his head back to you. 

Heat flushed straight to your face at the bold statement. Tyler and you hadn’t talked much about marriage. You had thought that might be the logical next step, but you also didn’t want to bring it up if it scared him away. With past boyfriends, including the one in front of you, it always had. You should’ve known by now though that Tyler was nothing like that. You leaned into him more now, smiling as his arm went around you and his hand rested on your stomach. 

“Her future-” Charles looked dumbfounded, and you also didn’t miss the wince when Tyler shook his hand probably more roughly than necessary. 

“Got to lock her down, you know? Plenty of other idiots have already let her go. I’m not going to make the same mistake.” Tyler replied, giving you a smile full of mischief. 

You placed your hand on top of the one he had on your stomach. “Ty, I’m having your baby. I don’t think you have to worry about that.” You assured him, your smile widening as he kissed your cheek. 

“You’re - you’re pregnant?” 

You’d almost forgotten Charles was there with Tyler’s sudden proclamation, but his words pulled your attention back to him. Turning to the side, you let him see the slight curve to your stomach. “Yep. Four months to go before we meet our baby boy.” 

As soon as you said the words, Tyler’s face lit up with genuine excitement like it always did. “I can’t wait.” He turned back to Charles, putting both of his arms around you protectively now. “How do you two know each other again?” Tyler asked, and once again you had to fight back a laugh. 

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, looking back up at Tyler with a soft smile. “We need to be getting out of here anyway right babe?” 

“Yes ma’am. Well, it was nice to meet you, Chuck.” Tyler said, stepping back from you so he could grab a hold of the cart with one hand, taking your hand in the other. 

You couldn’t hold your laughter back anymore at that point, entwining your fingers together as you followed him to the register, leaving Charles standing dumbfounded in your wake. 

________________

It was the thing you had been the most scared of happening. You had no one else to blame other than yourself though. You were the one who had insisted that Tyler go on the chase. It was supposed to be a large storm, and you reminded him that it was the last one he’d probably go on for a while since the season was ending, as was your pregnancy. You had faith that he would be careful, knowing that he wouldn’t risk anything that would endanger him from meeting his son. 

What you hadn’t expected however, was your water to break three weeks early. 

It was safe to say you were panicking when you called your sister to come get you, and by the time they wheeled you back to your room, you were close to a full blown meltdown. “I can’t do this without him.” You told her, holding your stomach as if that could keep him in, tears streaming down your face. “And he’s at least five hours away! What if I don’t have that long?!”

Your sister, who was more calm than you, grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “He will make it, I’m sure. You’ve texted him right?” 

You bit your lip, and when your sister gave you a look, you blurted. “I didn’t want to ruin his chase! I thought I’d wait to see if the doctor was even going to take me!” 

“Oh my god.” She reached into your bag and grabbed your phone. You held out your hand for it, but she was already texting away. “There, done.” 

“What did you say?” 

But she didn’t answer, instead she waited about ten seconds and said, “he said he’s on his way.” 

You nodded, watching as she put your phone back in your purse. God you hoped he was going to make it. The thought of doing this without him was terrifying. You were already scared enough that something was wrong because of how early he was. Having to have this baby without Tyler by your side, reassuring you the whole way, seemed impossible. 

A few minutes later, while you were lost in your thoughts, the door to your room opened and a nurse walked in. “Hey, honey, how’re we doing?” 

“She’s panicking.” Your sister replied for you. 

You glared at her. “My boyfriend, he’s - he’s not going to be able to get here for a few hours, do you think I have that long?” 

She gave you a sympathetic smile. “Well that’s according to him I’d say, because I speak from experience when I say babies don’t wait for no one.” She said. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to make it. You just knew it. He wasn’t going to make it in time, and you would have to try and do this without him, and you didn’t think that you could. You needed him. You needed him so badly it added to the pain you were already in, and the worst part was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t forced him to go on that chase - 

“I’m here, I’m here!” 

To your complete and utter shock, Tyler came sliding into your room, taking his cowboy hat off and hurrying to your side. 

“Ty?” Was all you could think to say.

“Did I miss anything?” Tyler asked, taking your hand in his own and looking at your nurse. 

“Dad, I assume?” The nurse said with a smile. 

Tyler beamed at the use of the word. “About to be.” 

“In that case, you haven’t missed a thing yet. We’re about to take some vitals and get this show on the road.” She informed him. “Glad you could make it.” She said, and left your room. Your sister, sensing the two of you needed some alone time, followed close behind. 

Once they had both left, your thoughts caught up to your brain, and you squeezed Tyler’s hand. “Tyler Owens, I’ve never been more happy to see you in my entire life, but how the hell did you get here so fast?” 

He gave you an affectionate smile, and reached up to wipe away the tears you didn’t even know you’d still been crying. “Yeah, so about that chase . . . I never went.” 

“You - you what?” 

He started stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You were less than a month away from having our son. I knew you’d blame yourself if I didn’t go, but I also knew if something happened while I was away . . . You’d blame yourself too. So I just . . . stayed at a hotel the past couple of nights.” 

You couldn’t even be mad. He knew you too well, and the relief you felt that he was here to help you was too much to be upset. “I was so scared you were going to miss it.” 

“Not for the largest tornado in the world baby.” Tyler said, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss it. “You ready to do this?” He asked as they started wheeling in the equipment. 

Not five minutes ago you were horrified. The effect of Tyler’s presence on your emotions was remarkable. With him by your side, you had no doubts that you could do this. You could have this baby. “Now that you’re here? Definitely.” 

Tyler leaned forward to give you the last kiss the two of you would have before you were parents, the smile on his lips unmistakable. 

————————

“He looks so much like you it’s like you birthed him.” You said with a tired laugh. It was god knows how many hours later, you had never been more tired in your life, and somehow you and Tyler had squeezed into your tiny hospital bed. You were leaning against his shoulder, eyes glued to the baby he held in his arms that was looking up at you both curiously. 

“Not completely. I know that nose anywhere.” He said, gently tapping your son in the nose. Then, for the first time since his son had been placed in his arms, he looked at you, the unmistakable glint of tears in his eyes. “He’s perfect.” 

You knew that you were already emotional. You were exhausted, overwhelmed and a million other things at once, but the way Tyler was looking at your son, then at you? Your whole body seemed to light up with warmth. It was love all over his face, pure, intense love, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to forget what it looked like again. You felt too choked up to speak, so you slipped your arm through his to curl your hand around his bicep, and turned your head to kiss his shoulder. 

A smile formed on your face as Tyler looked back at your son, that adoring expression not fading for a second. “This is the best day of my life so far.” 

“So far?” You said curiously. 

“Well, you haven’t agreed to marry me yet.” He replied, grinning over at you. 

Your smile widened, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Ty, you haven’t asked.” 

“I haven’t?” Tyler said, pretending to look confused. “It’s a great proposal. You’ll just have to wait and see.” 

You rolled your eyes, but the thought of Tyler proposing to you made you feel giddy. “Does it involve fireworks in a tornado?” You teased. 

He shook his head. “Nah, been there, done that. Boone would love it though.” Tyler shifted your son, who cuddled right against his chest. “By the way, the crew’s waiting outside with your sister.” 

You sat further up, wincing when you moved too quickly. “Jeez Tyler, how long have they been out there?” 

“Since they dropped me off.” He admitted. 

“You mean none of them went on the chase either?” You said in shock. 

Tyler shook his head again, “They said this was going to be better than any tornado.” 

Your throat clogged with emotion again, and you really hoped this crying at the drop of a hat wasn’t going to last long. “Go get them! They deserve to see him!” 

He reached up, brushing a tear away from your face. “Are you sure? I know how tired you are, and I can tell them to come back tomorrow.” 

“I can sleep when they’re gone. Right now I want them to see what they gave up a chase for.” You said, holding out your arms for the baby. 

Tyler leaned forward, giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing your son over as gently as if he was made of glass. You smiled as he snuggled right up to your chest, and knew that there was no better feeling in the world than this right here. When you looked up, Tyler was staring at the two of you as if he was trying to memorize this moment. “I love you.” He said finally. 

You felt like you could float at that moment, so light and loved. “We love you too.” You told him, and the softest smile formed on his face. “Go,” you told him before you started crying again. “We’re not going anywhere.” You joked. 

“You better not.” He played along, giving you a mock stern look, and then he went outside the door. 

Not ten seconds later you heard a cheer from outside your door, and you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at their enthusiasm. Of course, they were shushed by nurses, and then Tyler brought them all in. 

You smiled at them as your sister, Lily, Boone, Dex and Dani’s eyes all went straight to the baby in your arms. Lily, Dani, your sister and Dex rushed forward to get a better look and started cooing over him, the biggest smiles on their faces while Boone hung back, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe the baby was a real thing.

“We got you guys something.” Dex said, holding up some familiar looking material as Tyler got back into the bed with you. He handed him the shirts, and Tyler unfolded them, letting out a laugh before showing them to you. It was similar to the normal shirts, but instead of Tyler’s face, it was a baby with a cowboy hat. That would have been hilarious enough, but instead of saying, “not my first tornadeo” it said, “this is my first babeo.” 

“Oh my god, it’s so cheesy. I love it.” You said with a laugh yourself. 

“We also got little man . . .” Dani held up a little onesie that said, “mini wrangler” on it with their tornado logo. 

You grinned, looking down at the bundle of cuteness in your arms. “It’s perfect.” You said, turning your smile to them. “Thank you guys for bringing Ty by the way, and staying. I would have understood if you all went on the chase.” 

“Are you crazy? We weren’t going to miss this.” Lily said, giving your son a little wave. 

Your eyes went over to Boone though, still standing back a little ways. The man who had gone into tornados and helped shoot fireworks and rockets up into them was looking at the baby in your arms like it was a bomb. “Hey Boone, you want to hold him?” You asked. 

“Oh, I don’t - I wouldn’t even know how-”

But Dani was already pushing him towards you. “It’s all right Boone, you got this.” You reassured him, sitting up a little more to hand him your son. 

“Make sure you get the back of his head.” Tyler said, watching with the eyes of a hawk as you gently placed him in Boone’s arms. 

“Woah.” Boone said, as he looked down at him. 

Tyler wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and now that your arms were free, you curled into his side, resting your head on his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach. 

“T, man! He looks just like you!” Boone said, and you smiled at the excitement in his voice. 

“Except for the nose.” Tyler said, and you found your eyes closing as Tyler pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

He was so comfortable, and you were so tired. You felt yourself starting to drift off as his thumb brushed up and down your shoulder. It was hard not to when you felt so safe and loved, surrounded by your family, your new baby and the love of your life. 

Tyler could sense it, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You want me to kick them out?” 

You shook your head, tightening your grip on him. “They can stay.” You murmured, nuzzling into him. “Make sure Boone doesn’t get too excited and drop our baby.” You joked. 

“Yes ma’am.” Tyler responded with a chuckle, pulling you closer. “You go ahead and rest. I'll be here when you wake up.” 

“I know.” You mumbled sleepily with a soft smile. “You always stay.”

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

[cutielando]

I don't usually request things but I saw that your request were open and that you're more of a fluff writer and thought this would be perfect for you. I'm not sure if you e written so.ething like this or not, so if you have feel free to ignore.

Lando Norris with a gf who always wears contacts and has to switch to her glasses for some reason but he didn't know she wore contacts (since they are a pretty new couple only a few months) and he thinks her glasses are so fucking adorable because they are kinda big and nerdy and now he always wants to see her in them

glasses | l.n.

my masterlist

You hated being blind.

Ever since you were little, you had been prescribed glasses because you couldn't see all that well. Of course, hoping you would be rid of them in a couple of years at most.

Oh, how wrong you had been.

There you were, in your 20s, still blind as fuck. But this time, nobody could really tell you needed glasses because you had opted for contacts instead.

That's the Y/N that Lando knew. Not the glasses, just the normal you.

You'd never actually told Lando about your vision problem, and he hadn't managed to figure anything out. You would put your contacts in as soon as you woke up and take them out before bed, all without Lando giving you a second thought.

But, unfortunately, your contacts era was going to come to an abrupt end.

You had scheduled a regular check-up with your optometrist, wanting to check things out as you usually did. But she seemed very concerned when she explained her findings to you.

"It looks like your eyes are very irritated because of the frequency with which you've been using your contacts, Y/N. I'm afraid you're going to have to switch to your eyeglasses for a while" those words had hit you like a ton of bricks.

You hated the way the glasses made you look, all big and round on your eyes like a nerd. You hated them, you hated even seeing them hidden away in your nightstand, and now you had to wear them?

Permanently?

Oh, boy.

Getting home to an empty apartment had never felt as good as it did in that moment.

Lando has been in the UK at the MTC for the last couple of days, and was supposed to be coming home in the evening. Plenty of time to think about what you were going to do when he got back and saw your glasses on the bridge of your nose.

You knew you were practically making a big deal out of nothing, but you couldn't help the thoughts swirling around in your mind.

How would Lando react? Would he love the glasses? Would he despise them because they made you less attractive or something? You couldn't have any of that, you loved him too much.

You sat on the couch, lost in your thoughts for what seemed like hours. The only thing that broke you out of your trance was the sound of keys jiggling in the lock and the door opening and closing.

"Babe, I'm home" Lando called out, just around the corner from the living room.

Your eyes widened, not realizing so much time had passed that Lando had already arrived home.

Any kind of plan you might have come up with in those few hours went out the window, now replaced with accepted defeat that in a few seconds, Lando would round the corner and come face to face with you.

Just as predicted, Lando entered the living room 5 seconds later, leaving his suitcase at the entrance while making his way to you.

"Hey" you said, your voice small as you timidly raised your head to look at him.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows furrowed with confusion at the sight of your glasses.

“What’s with the glasses?” he asked, chuckling as he inspected your face.

In all truth, he thought you looked adorable with them. But to you, his silence was the worst possible thing in that moment.

You sighed, resting your head in your hands. Seeing how beat up you seemed to be, Lando took a seat next to you on the couch and started rubbing your back.

“I can’t see all that well, have had a prescription ever since I was 12 and I’ve had contacts for years now. When I went to my optometrist this morning for a checkup, she told me my eyes are irritated because of how long I’ve worn contacts, so I have to wear my glasses for a while” you explained, your voice slightly muffled by your palms but clear enough for Lando to understand.

“Okay, and what’s wrong with them? They look hot on you, why do you look so sad?” he asked, making you look up at him in confusion.

“What do you mean they look hot? They are ugly, they make my face look big and I hate wearing them” you explained the problem, but nothing you were saying was phasing Lando in any way.

He smiled at you, his eyes lingering on your glasses for a couple of seconds before he started speaking.

“Baby, you look hot both with and without your glasses. I personally prefer you with them” he cooed as he held your face in his hands.

“But they make me look like a nerd” you pouted, making your expression even more adorable in his eyes.

Lando shook his head, standing firm on his statement.

“Y/N, I don’t care whether you wear glasses for the rest of our lives or not, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world in my eyes, even more so with them on your pretty face” he said, pecking your lips twice.

You sighed once you pulled away, your chest feeling much lighter now. The fear that you had been feeling since the morning wore off, relief settling in instead.

“Thanks” you said, biting your lip before leaning against his side, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder.

Thank God.

And so, ever since that day and for the remaining of your relationship, Lando made it his mission to show you just how much he loved those glasses on you.

Especially in bed ;)

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[lurochar]

The Buck Stops Here

His shadow must be punished. You find out Alastor did not put his shadow up to your little play date.

Warnings: Reader's name game sucks

18+ MDNI

Part 1 + Part 3

-------------------

“Oh, dear.”

It hit him in more than just one way as soon as he entered your shared room. He had used his shadow travel to simply slip in the hotel without bothering to talk to the others, wanting to greet you first to bring up his mood.

It had been an irritating day, dealing with territorial disputes and all. 

He hadn’t bothered to knock and just bypassed the door, emerging from the floor and expecting a cheerful greeting from you when his senses were seemingly all bombarded all at once.

The room smelled almost entirely of you – of your sweat, of your tears, of your cum.

He almost found himself thanking some unknown deity he had not called upon his shadow earlier that day, otherwise, he would have been put in a highly uncomfortable situation where he would have no other choice but to slaughter any and all witnesses.

His shadow was a part of him after all – it felt what he felt and vice versa.

Though it sometimes did go rogue.

Alastor knew his blasted shadow liked to watch and never really thought much of it, but he never imagined it would take the visuals as knowledge and actually use it against you.

“I believe I told you to behave, didn’t I?” Alastor finally spoke, watching with a tight smile as his shadow’s ears perked up – as if it was only just realizing he was standing in the room – and its head lazily lifted from its position between your legs.

You were passed out.

He vaguely wondered how long his shadow had you going for if the scent of you was this strong and taking another inhale, Alastor could feel drool drip down his fangs and his antlers growing.

His shadow had the nerve to lick the slick from its lips before it chattered at him, resting its head back on your thigh and licking the skin there. You shivered unconsciously, letting out a sigh and the shadow cooed at your sleeping form.

“What. Did. You. Just. Say?” A screech of static escaped him before Alastor could help it and he quickly looked over to see if it woke you. Luckily, it did not and he felt his eye twitching in annoyance. “You do know this is the opposite of ‘behaving’, don’t you?”

The shadow actually seemed to huff at him, snuggling deeper against you while its ears twitched wildly as if to mock him. It let out a series of chirps and titters before settling down again.

Alastor felt his own ears twitch. “Cute? She thought it was ‘cute’?” He murmured, his expression scrunching with bewilderment.

Would a moment of bliss be worth it in exchange for the humiliation? Of you stroking his ears for a bleat? Sex was the only time he could not control the damned little noises and so, he had been very careful in not allowing you to touch that part of him during.

His shadow chittered again from its place and Alastor did not give it a response. Instead, he snapped his fingers a few times, regretfully clearing the room of your heavenly scent. 

The bed and sheets were cleaned next and you didn’t even stir when Alastor cleansed you of your bodily fluids. The shadow snickered when Alastor eyed him for a moment and the snicker instantly turned into a whimper with his next words.

“Since you couldn’t behave, I won’t allow you to watch for the next week.”

(So harsh, Master!)

–

“Tell me, Darling.”

You try to talk, you really do, but how are you supposed to, with a tentacle shoved in your mouth? All you can do is let out muffled moans and heaving sobs when you feel Alastor’s fingers trail up and down your thigh.

What are you supposed to tell him?

“You have been a naughty little brat, my dearest Doe.” Alastor purred, grinning wide as more tentacles appeared from the shadows, wrapping around you and restricting any and all movement. “And brats must be punished, don’t they?”

What are you supposed to tell him!?

Alastor spreads your legs, before throwing them over his broad shoulders. “What do you want? I want to hear it from you.” He teased, just barely rubbing at your folds as you tried to bite down on the tentacle gagging you. “What would a fitting punishment be? Should I leave you wanting, needy and begging for more?”

You could feel his thumb swipe over your clit, beginning to rub the bundle of nerves in tight little circles and you clenched your eyes shut, feeling that familiar warmth heat up in your belly. You tried to arch up into his touch, but the tentacles allowed no movement.

“Open your eyes.” Alastor commanded, his thumb leaving your clit and you whimpered, quickly complying as his fingers went to stroke your cheek, smearing your slick across your heated skin, “Keep your eyes on me, dearest.”

You gasped as the appendage from your mouth retracted, drool trailing down your lips as tears began to form in the corner of your eyes, “A-Alastor.” You choked, “W-what am I… I supposed to..?” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he cut you off.

“Should I fuck you with my fingers? My tongue? Are you greedy tonight, Darling? Do you want my cock?” Alastor smirked as you gaped at him, before throwing your head back and letting out a wail when a tentacle slid up into your dripping cunt. “Where have your words gone?”

You see stars when the tentacle jams up against that spot in your pussy and your toes curl almost painfully. “F-fu–” You panted as another appendage toyed with your clit, knowing you’re on the edge and about to fall over any second now.

“Language, Darling, language.” Alastor sighed in mock disappointment, ceasing all movement and you almost sob at your broken orgasm. Should he ask while you’re incoherent? It seemed a little more entertaining that way, certainly. “What did that damn shadow of mine tell you?” 

Huh?

What?

Your brain isn’t exactly completely in the realm of reality when you feel the tentacle slowly slip out of you, wriggling against your wet walls and leaving you clenching nothing but air. “S-shadow?” Ah, that’s right – you haven’t seen Alastor’s shadow in a day or two. “W-where is… where is Shadowy?”

Shadowy?

‘Shadowy’?

You gave it a name?

(And one as simple as that!?)

“As a result of misbehaviour,” Alastor’s grin widened, fangs gritting in irritation. He shuffled his position, “it must be disciplined. Deprivation of you – an entire week’s worth – should be sufficient in teaching it a lesson.” He gripped your hips, fucking his cock into your slippery hole. “Must you think of my shadow when I am right here, my dearest Doe?”

“H-hah!” Your eyes rolled back, feeling your arms strain as they were still restrained above your head by Alastor’s tentacles. “I-I…” It felt good, your mind felt like mush, but Alastor wanted something out of you, didn’t he? “I thought… you put Shadowy up to it.” 

Alastor gradually unravelled the appendages from your restrained arms, watching as his drool dripped down into your face while he deepened his thrusts, each deeper, harder, and faster. “You believe I would reveal such a… humiliating secret about myself?”

Your glazed over eyes seemed to gain coherency with his words. “Your shadow is a part of you, right?”  Your arms trembled. “Maybe, maybe you did? I would never make fun of you, Alastor. I love you.”

Alastor tensed, but wrapped his hands around your wrists, slowly bringing your arms up to his head. Your hands shook and his ears flattened against his skull. “Well? I would like to get this over with.” His grin seemed to wobble.

You squeezed his ears and jumped, watching in awe as Alastor’s eyes instantly shut and he quivered. “Harder, dearest.” Your warm wet walls were starting to flutter around him and he felt the sound get caught up in his throat. “Fuck!”

Once more, another squeeze.

And you finally shattered.

“A-Ala–!” You whimpered, feeling Alastor bury his face in the crook of your neck and you clamped down on his cock, just barely hearing that same sound you had heard with his shadow even through your bliss. “Alastor.” You hesitantly stroked his ears, becoming more assured when he relaxed against you.

“Fuck.” Alastor twitched inside you, shuddering after his own pleasure. He kept humping into you, trying to fuck his cum deeper in you until you whined in clear overstimulation. “Oh hush now.”

He hoped you didn’t hear it.

That sad little bleat.

“I… I like it.” You finally said after long yet comfortable silence. Alastor seemed to let out a huff and you did too. “I mean it! It’s… ‘en-deering’!” 

“Please Darling, no.”

----

Taglist:

@cosmiccandydreamer

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Unchaperoned.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 5.2k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Prolonged Captivity, Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of Physical/Psychological Abuse, Mentions of Kidnapping, Reader's Just Going Through It In This One Okay, and Dissociative Behavior. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You should’ve known something was wrong as soon as you realized Satoru wasn’t in bed.

Most mornings, he’d already be gone by the time you woke up, with the only signs that he’d ever laid down next to you at all being the phantom weight of his chest pressed into your back and a sickly sweet note left on the bedside table (usually something to the tune of ‘be home late tonight, can’t wait to see you again’ or ‘if you keep trying to pick the lock on the kitchen window, I’ll know’), but today was supposed to be one of his prized days-off, and when he wasn’t pried away from you by obligation, he preferred to spend as much time as he could sprawled out across the mattress, your body tucked against his, waiting for the haze of a slow morning to dip and ebb until his mouth founds its way to your neck and his hands to your waist. Sometimes, he was called away by an emergency mission, a sudden problem with one of his students, but you weren’t often that lucky, and he never left without waking you up, first.

Failing that, you should’ve known something was wrong when you did finally open your eyes, and immediately found Satoru looming above you, perched on the edge of the mattress, already dressed and wearing the wide, toothy grin that made your stomach drop and something embedded deep within your chest curl up and pray for death.

You tried to shut your eyes, to roll over, to pretend you were still asleep, but Satoru must’ve been watching you for a while. His hand was on your shoulder before you could so much as settle into place, his mouth crashing into yours before you could brace yourself for his rough affection. He’d never been a very good kisser, even when you’d been a willing victim, but there seemed to be no moment sweet enough and no occasion soft enough to stop him from forcing his tongue down your throat, from keeping his mouth slotted against yours until your lungs ached, from nipping at your bottom lip with enough force to sting. Too resigned to be genuinely annoyed, you remained limp and pliable underneath him until he finally pulled back, his smile just a little brighter as he beamed down at you.

“I picked out something nice for you,” he muttered, his voice low, sentimental. If it wasn’t for the cold bolt of dread that accompanied the sound of his voice, you might’ve called it playful. “Get dressed. We’re going on a field trip.”

You swallowed, thickly. “Where are we going?”

Impossibly, his smile seemed to grow wider. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it, I promise.”

You blinked up at him, too used to suppressing your reaction for the effort to be conscious. Satoru was possessive, but he was also childish, impulsive – too self-indulgent to keep his favorite toy locked away for very long. Usually, though, your little trips were planned meticulously and limited to five-star restaurants with private backrooms, rented-out theaters, picnics in the countryside where he could ensure you wouldn’t have anyone to pay attention to other than him. He’d never been so vague, before. You didn’t like having to guess what he was going to do to you.

But, his grip on your shoulder tightened, and you were abruptly reminded that you didn’t have much of a choice. It was either go along with his whims, play into his domestic fantasies, or risk disobeying him and—

And disobedience wasn’t an option. Not anymore. Not after so long.

A little more than an hour later, you were in the backseat of a black sedan, hands clasped together in your lap and Satoru’s arm draped over your shoulders. Every so often, your eyes flitted from the floor to the window, lingering on the passing landscape for no longer than a few seconds before falling back to something less direct, less contentious. Still, from what you could tell, you were miles outside of the city and deep into the backwoods that surrounded it. Anxiety alternated between tying knots in the pit of your stomach and stabbing into the tender flesh at the back of your throat. You’d never been very prone to motion sickness, but maybe, if you told Satoru, you’d look pale enough for him to buy it, tell his driver to turn around, and let you go back to the kind of misery you were used to.

You straightened, sucking in a deep breath and doing your best to choke down the worst of your paranoia. If Satoru noticed the extent of your distress, the most the offered by way of reassurance was an airy laugh, a gentle tug that left you pressed that much deeper into his side. Fighting not to draw back, you broke the silence, more eager for a distraction than a genuine answer. “Are you really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I can’t, baby.” He was still playing coy, playing cute. It might’ve been charming three years ago, when you were just having fun with a mysterious man with endless funding and eyes brighter than cloudless sky, but it was hard to find someone charming after you’d known them longer as a captor than you ever had as a friend, as a partner. “If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now, would it?”

Your gaze fell into your lap. You’d been allowed to do your make-up and style your hair to your preferences, but he’d chosen your outfit – an ankle-length sundress the color of snow and daisy petals and pale skin bled dry. The color of his hair, although you tried not to let the automatic association needle its way into your conscious mind. “I don’t like surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.” Another laugh, another tug. Your skin was crawling. Maybe you wouldn’t have to play sick after all. “It’s real special to me. Thought I should finally get around to sharing it with you.”

You could remember complaining about that kind of thing, once – just how little you knew about Satoru in comparison to just how much he knew about you. You shared your life openly with him, and even if you hadn’t, he always seemed to be just around the corner, always where he needed to be to walk you home after a dull workday or invite himself to drink at a downtown bar with you and your friends. He’d been more secretive, more discreet. It’d taken you three months to find out he was a teacher, and another six so much as hear the word ‘sorcerer’. In retrospect, it was probably more of a deliberate effort than you’d been willing to give him credit for, at the time. He’d assumed that, the moment you found out anything more than his name, you’d try to run, and he’d been right. He’d wanted to delay the inevitable, and he’d succeeded.

It was stupid to be so worried. It was stupid to be so… so upset. Most days, you would’ve traded anything to be able to leave Satoru’s suffocating penthouse apartment, would’ve sold your left kidney for just an hour of freedom, but this wasn’t freedom, and it was hard to enjoy the illusion of it when you didn’t know what price you’d have to pay after it was pried away from you. You didn’t like not knowing what to expect. You didn’t like not knowing what you’d done to deserve this. You didn’t like that, even after years of learning to deal with Satoru’s bullshit, he could still make you feel just as scared and just as helpless as the day you first woke up in that dark room, your hands tied behind your back and—

The car jolted to an abrupt stop. Reflexively, you snapped up, going rigid, but Satoru seemed unaffected. He started to reach for the door, then stopped himself – fishing something out of his pocket. “Show me your hand, princess.” Satoru didn’t give you time to obey before taking you by the wrist and slipping a thick, silver ring onto your finger. You glanced from it to Satoru, who winked. “Just in case.”

You didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant before he was threading his fingers through yours and dragging you out of the backseat, into the open air. You tried to be thankful to have room to breathe – tried, and failed.

The driver didn’t follow you out. You stood, alone and unprepared, next to Satoru at the foot of massive, winding, temple-style staircase. Weather-beaten torii separated the pathway from crowded foliage, and with your hand still trapped in his, Satoru guided you through the steep ascent, each step accompanied by another drop of tell-tale dread, a fresh wave of anxiety. For one long, terrible minute, you managed to convince yourself that there was a sacrificial altar waiting at the top, or a guillotine – something ornamental and damning that he’d use to cut your life that much shorter, to tie you that much closer to him. Your eyes were clenched shut by the time you crested the peak, your breathing rapid and shallow, any panic you might’ve been able to stave off during the trip now returning in full force. It was all you could do to keep yourself from breaking down entirely when he finally, finally came to a stop, squeezing your hand with enough force to leave it aching.

 You wanted to stay like that, blind and deaf and only on the verge of sobbing, but it wasn’t possible – your body couldn’t take much more, and even if you had been more durable, Satoru wouldn’t wait much longer. Tentatively, you forced yourself to open your eyes and took in—

A schoolyard. A bog-standard, borderline uninteresting, utterly devoid of life schoolyard. The architecture was a little pre-modern, sure, and it was strange not to see any students or teachers milling through the open space, but it was far from the ceremonial execution site you’d primed yourself to step into. As far as you could see, at least.

“Pretty, right? In a rustic kind of way, I mean.” Satoru was still grinning from ear-to-ear. You doubted he’d stop any time soon. “I promised I’d get around to showing you where I work eventually. C’mon, I’ll give you the tour.”

Right. You’d known he was a teacher, but somehow, you’d managed to go your entire captivity without ever so much as attempting to picture the school where he must’ve taught. Then again, to be fair, you may have had more important things on your mind.

The tour wasn’t optional. When Satoru wasn’t dragging you from building to building, he was rambling on about his students, his own education, telling you decade-old stories with more energy than a man closer to thirty-one than eighteen should’ve had. You listened to very little of it and retained even less, but Satoru seemed satisfied with your occasional nod muted noises of acknowledgment. You never passed anyone else, but he kept a vice-grip on your hand, as if he was scared you’d make a run for it as soon as he turned away. A few months ago, you might’ve considered it, but you weren’t that hopeful, anymore.

“One more stop,” he said, as he pulled you towards the last building – or, buildings, rather. It was a row of ornamental classrooms, all divided into separate schoolhouses. Against your better judgment, you edged forward, willing him to move a little faster, too. This was the last stop. He just wanted to show you his classroom, then you could leave. This was the last thing you’d have to endure, and then, you could go back to the kind of misery you were used to.

Or, at least, that’s what you might’ve told yourself if a blur of pink and black hadn’t emerged from the nearest corner, sprinting across the small courtyard, and running directly into Satoru’s chest.

You flinched back, but if Satoru was fazed, you couldn’t tell. You couldn’t see his eyes, not through the tint of his glasses, but he wore a crooked smile as he looked down at the teenage boy now standing in front of you. He must’ve been in high school – a first-year, if you had to guess, his black uniform coated in dust and debris. Rubbing the back of his neck, he blinked a few times before seeming to notice Satoru and straightening, bowing his head shallowly. “Gojo-sensei,” he barked, speaking quickly enough for the name and the honorific to blend together. “I was looking for Nanamin, but— So, Kugisaki found this ultra-cool cursed weapon, and we thought Fushiguro could figure out—”

He was cut off abruptly by a sneaker hitting the back of his head. A second later, another teenager – a girl, this time – seemed to appear behind the boy. Notably, she was missing a shoe. “He’s lying,” she said, her tone nearly venomous enough to be believable. “Whatever he says, it isn’t true. He’s a liar, and sexist, and I heard Sukuna say—” Abruptly, she cut herself off, her attention snapping towards you. She was quiet for a second, then another, before going on with a polite smile. “Hello, ma’am.”

For the first time, the boy turned to you, his eyes immediately widening. “Fuck,” And then, his gaze falling to where his hand was still wrapped around yours, “Fuck.”

You couldn’t stop yourself – bringing up your free hand to stifle your laugh. You almost introduced yourself, but Satoru was quick to cut you off. “These,” he explained, with a broad gesture to both teenagers. “are my beloved students, Kugisaki and Itadori, who value my mentorship and look up to me as their teacher.”

“I know,” the girl, Kugisaki, whispered to her companion, Itadori, only half-heartedly trying to hide her voice. “I really didn’t think men or women could stand to be around him.”

“And, adoring students, this,” His grip tightened as he forced your hand into the air, your new ring facing the students. “is my beautiful fiancé.”

“Fiancé,” Itadori repeated. “Was it, like, arranged?”

And then, from Kugisaki to you, “Did he pay you up front?”

Reflexively, you moved to respond, used to having to provide an answer as soon as you were asked a question lest Satoru resort to more drastic means of getting your attention, but something else caught your attention. A mop of black hair rounding the schoolhouse’s corner, the collar of a white t-shirt pulled over a bloody nose obscuring, but not completely hiding, a familiar face. You didn’t want to, but you recognized him immediately.

Megumi.

Huh.

You’d never seen him without his sister, before.

He made a point not to look at you, dark eyes trained on the ground as he positioned himself a few feet behind his more energetic classmates. You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it again just as quickly. You might’ve actually found the courage to say something, if Kugisaki hadn’t lurched forward, shoving Itadori out of the way and tearing your hand out of Satoru’s. She clasped both your hands between hers, staring up at you with a frantic kind of urgency. “Listen,” she started, her tone just as dire as her expression. “If he bribed, kidnapped, or threatened you to make you go along with this, say so. There’s another sorcerer on campus – we’ll make sure you’re safe while he’s brought to the proper authorities.”

You hesitated, for a second.

Then, you opened your mouth, and distantly, heard your own voice spilling out. “We used to be in a relationship.” You stopped, swallowed, then went on. “But, he kidnapped me three years ago, and he’s kept me trapped in his home ever since. If I ever leave him, he says he’ll break my legs and kill everyone I know. He hasn’t really proposed, yet, either. He just shoved a ring onto my hand and started calling me his fiancé a few hours ago.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

And then, Satoru laughed. It was a cheery, juvenile sort of laugh. A ‘forget everything you just heard and look at me’ sort of laugh.

Soon enough, his students joined him – Itadori first, then Kagisuki. Megumi never made a sound.

“I think what you meant to say,” Megumi didn’t even look at you. You wished you could ask how his sister was doing. You wished you could say anything at all. “is that it was love at first sight. I was on a mission, fighting my way through a group of a hundred curses. That’s when I heard someone crying out from the heart of the swarm, and I—”

You made no attempt to listen. As Satoru’s story drowned on, Megumi’s eyes flitted upward – first to Satoru, then to you, widening slightly. You made the same realization a second later.

Satoru wasn’t holding your hand, anymore.

Satoru wasn’t paying attention to you at all.

Finally, Megumi met your gaze. He held your stare for a second, before shifting – looking towards something behind you. His message was glaringly apparent, albeit unspoken.

 You took half a step back, then another. Satoru was still caught up in his story, and if his students noticed you moving, they didn’t feel the need to comment. It wouldn’t work, something vile and fearful whispered into the back of your mind. He’d notice, and he’d drag you to somewhere isolated and claustrophobic, and he’d break every finger on your right hand, or dislocate both your ankles, or lock you in a room so dark and so tiny that you would be able to convince yourself he’d buried you alive. It wouldn’t work, but you were already three feet away from him, then ten, then twenty. At some point, Megumi shifted, taking your place just outside of Satoru’s peripheral, replacing your presence at his side. When you reached the corner of the nearest schoolhouse, you turned on your heels and ran.

Your mind raced as you made your way back to the main schoolyard, back to the front gates. You were in the backwoods, but you couldn’t be that far from the city �� not if you’d been able to drive here. There was bound to be a public road nearby, or better yet, a highway, something with drivers you could flag down and beg to take you as far from here as possible. You’d pawn the ring, dye your hair, call yourself by a different name until you found someone willing to get you out of Tokyo, to get you out of Japan. Maybe, if you made it to a port city, you could—

You stopped abruptly about twenty feet away from the main gates. A blonde man in a suit leaned against one of the wooden beams, his face familiar but not immediately placeable. Someone working for Satoru, you thought, irrationally. Someone who wanted to stop you from getting away.

He was already looking at you. He nodded, the gesture slow and measured, and you continued to stare blankly in the direction of the gates. “(Y/n).”

His identity came to you immediately. Not Satoru’s employee, but one of his coworkers, only barely remembered from a few nights spent drinking, a handful of conversations you only barely remembered. “Kento.”

You’d taken a few beats to respond, but Kento wasn’t as hesitant. “Gojo said you left the city.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re here with him?”

You swallowed. “He’s talking to his students, right now.”

He took a moment to evaluate you – your disheveled dress, your wide eyes, the way you couldn’t seem to stop breathing in shallow, panicked huffs. Should you have tried to look more sympathetic, more like a captive? Should you be talking to him at all?

 He didn’t smile, didn’t soften his tone into something overly sweet, overly dizzying. It was good that he didn’t – or, actually, it might’ve been bad. If he had, you would’ve forced your way past him without ever stopping to hear what he had to say. “He was never the type to think further than he could reach,” Kento said, straightening. “I’d like to talk to you, sometime. Somewhere private.”

“I… Satoru doesn’t really like it when I—”

“Gojo doesn’t have to know.” He paused, straightened. “Honestly, I’d prefer if he didn’t.”

Something thick and acidic rose into the back of your throat. It was your turn to straighten, now, to ball your fists at your side, to let your mouth fall open and—

And shut it again as you felt an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you against a broad chest. You didn’t have to check to know it was Satoru. You felt his fingertips dig into your side, his chin settle onto your shoulder. “Just can’t stand not to havin’ me all to yourself, huh?” His voice was low, playful. If you’d been able to think over the deafening static in your head, you would’ve called yourself an idiot for ever thinking it was cute.

“Thanks for looking after her for me.” He was talking to Nanami, now. You might’ve been grateful, if not for the ever-present pressure of his hand on your waist. “My fiancé tends to wander off.”

Kento’s expression, as always, was near-unreadable. He seemed to catch on the word ‘fiancé’, but whether that was because of the implication or the way Satoru seemed to bask in it, you couldn’t tell.

His response was curt, polite. “Congratulations.”

You could feel Satoru’s grin against your throat. He’d been glad to show you off in front of his students, but it almost seemed compulsory for him to flaunt you in front of Kento. “One wrong step, and suddenly I’m a taken man. Not that I’d have it any other way.” His arm fell away from your waist. Rather than reaching for your hand, he took you by the wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise. “I’ve gotta show the little lady a couple more things. You’ll keep an eye on the first years for me, right?”

Kento might’ve tried to answer, but you were around long enough to hear it. Satoru was already dragging you back in the direction of the schoolhouses, and willingly, you followed, keeping your head bowed and your teeth grit. It was almost a relief to know he was going to do something terrible to you. At least, while you were injured, or bound, or so heavily sedated that you couldn’t remember your own name, you wouldn’t be able to try to run away again. You wouldn’t be able to get your hopes up, and have to bear the hollow, gnawing agony that came when they were, yet again, dragged back down and crushed under Satoru’s heel.

There were no flustered students to intercept you before you reached his classroom, this time, no stoic teachers to pretend to care that you looked so miserable. Satoru only let go of your hand once you’d crossed the threshold, once he’d shut and locked the door behind you. Idly, you wandered into the empty space at the front of the classroom, only sparing a quick glance towards the empty chalkboard, the vacant teacher’s desk, the barren walls before letting your eyes fall back to your feet. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I didn’t mean to do anything, but—” You almost brought up Megumi, but stopped yourself. “I… I’m just sorry.”

Satoru hummed. You felt a hand on your hip first, then your side, nudging you towards the desk. When you failed to move, he chuckled and abandoned the idea of your cooperation entirely – lifting you off of your feet without a hint of strain and placing you on edge of the empty desk, positioning himself between your legs. His hands fell to either side of you, caging you between his arms. “I know, pretty girl, I know.”

“And—And, your students seemed so nice, or—uh, energetic, at least. I haven’t talked to anyone other than you in so long, I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I get it, princess. You were always shy like that.”

Shy. You’d never really been shy. Not before he kidnapped you, at least. Not before he took all the things you’d always told yourself that people just didn’t do to each other and done them to you.

Still, you didn’t correct him. “Can we…” You trailed off, shrunk into yourself. “Can we go home, then? I don’t want to—”

His mouth was crashing into yours before you could finish. You jerked back, but one of his hands was already on the back of your neck, keeping you in place while his tongue racked over yours and he moaned shamelessly into your mouth. Just as suddenly as he’d lounged, he drew back, his mouth falling to your throat as his free hand slipped under the skirt of your sundress.

There were a few minor differences between building dread and cold, pointed fear that you’d never noticed, before your time with Satoru – that you still managed to sometimes forget, during the brief calm patches spread throughout the course of your captivity. What you’d felt in the back of his car, that aching pressure that can only ever stand on the precipice of crushing – that was dread, all anticipation and no catharsis, your own mind doing worse things to you than Satoru ever could.

What you felt as the pad of his thumb traced over the length of your slit – that was fear.

“No,” as your hands found his shoulders, nails burrowing down, and then, a second, later, as your eyes found the door you’d come through. “Not here, ‘toru, it’s—Your students, they’re still—”

“You don’t have to worry, pretty girl. I’ve still got an eye on them.” His voice was airy, distant, his words only just audible in the gaps between open-mouthed kisses pressed into the curve of your throat. You could feel his saliva on your skin, the heat of his breath fanning across your jugular. Disgusting. He was disgusting. Disgusting and messy and vulgar and perverted. You were ashamed that you’d ever so much as considered loving him willingly. “I’ll be quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit still and look pretty.”

“But, someone might—” Your voice cut off as he found your clit and pressed down, immediately using too much force and too little care. You jerked forward, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, but Satoru had only ever taken your aversion as a sign to go further, to do more. You could feel him drawing little, quick patterns into the sensitive bud through the thin fabric of your panties, and even worse, you could feel liquid heat beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach, dripping out from the space between your thighs – your own body betraying you when faced with Satoru’s coercion. “Satoru,” you whined, your pleading tone the closest thing to actual anger that he would allow. “Please, I don’t want to do this her—”

He hushed you, the noise soft and definite, and just like that, you gave up on speaking entirely.

Satoru’s impatience was unparalleled, but he’d had time to train your body to keep up with his impulsivity. By the time he pulled your panties to the side, slipping two fingers into your tight entrance, you were already wet, already waiting for something new, something more. “That’s my girl,” Satoru muttered as he slid his ring and middle digits into your dripping cunt, only stopping once he was knuckle-deep. “Always so bratty until you get something inside of you. It was a good thing I found you when I did, before someone else realized just how easy it was to get you all soft n’ pouty.”

His fingers curled upward, scissored apart, and you let out the smallest, weakest possible whimper – quickly cut off by a bubbling, half-choked moan. Your eyes darted to the second door; he’d been decent enough to lock the one you’d come through, but there was another, leading into a hallway that must’ve connected the disparate classrooms. It didn’t have a window, meaning you wouldn’t be able to see if someone walked by, wouldn’t be able to know you’d been caught until it was too late to tell Satoru to stop – not that he’d listen, even if you did. Rather than drown out the feeling of Satoru’s pumping into you, it only seemed to make the sensation of his fingers battering against the walls of your cunt more acute, only seemed to heighten the awful pressure starting to mount in your core. You buried your teeth in your bottom lip, shut your eyes and buried your face that much deeper in his shoulder, but no amount of self-suppression could stifle the slick, lewd noise of his fingers thrusting into you. No amount of self-loathing could convince Satoru to shut up, no matter how strongly you willed him to choke on his own tongue and die.

“I don’t think you were taking me seriously – about the whole engagement thing, I mean.” His voice was airy, almost distant. It was the same way he’d talk to you over breakfast, or when he insisted on resting his head in your lap as he told you about his day and you half-heartedly pretended to listen. “I meant it, y’know. I’ll have to do something more romantic for the actual proposal, but—” He paused, laughed. You felt his lips ghost over your cheek, then the corner of your jaw. “I meant it. Couldn’t stand the idea of putting it off any longer, ‘specially not when I already knew that you were going to say yes.”

Whether he was speaking out of narcissism, cruelness, or genuine delusion, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t want to know. All you could seem to focus on was the terrible heat of his affection, all you could seem to do was whimper through grit teeth as he forced another finger into your hyper-sensitive cunt. “We’ll have to get married, too. I wanna do it as soon as possible – fuck, I wouldn’t mind being able to call you my wife today.” You stiffened, shook your head, and Satoru huffed, amused. “Right, right – gotta pace the good stuff out. That’s why I love you so much, babe. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have time to breathe.”

A ragged sob escaped your pursed lips as you came undone around his fingers. He nursed you through your climax, only drawing back after you’d gone limp against him. There was another kiss, this one to the corner of your mouth, before his lips found yours – his touch suddenly gentle, featherlight. Your head fell to his collarbone as he straightened his back, but you were beyond the point of caring. You let your eyes fall entirely closed, sinking into him. At least, if someone walked in now, you’d be able to write it off as Satoru comforting you after a sudden bout of heat exhaustion, or a purely romantic (albeit, uncomfortably intimate) moment between a man and his—

His captive.

You could last a few more days before you fully submitted to the role of his fiancé.

You opened your mouth, unsure as to what you wanted to say but aware that you couldn’t stand to sit in silence for any longer, but anything you might’ve said was swiftly and callously drowned out by the sound of rustling fabric, the weight of a hand on your hip while another positioned Satoru’s now-free cock against your entrance. For a moment, you thought about attempting to shove him away. For a moment, you thought about screaming and hoping someone was close enough to hear you.

Then, he thrust into you, and you couldn’t do anything at all.

[allywthsr]

FIRST RACE WIN | (l.norris)

summary: Lando wins his first race

wordcount: 1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: none

notes: wrote this in 10 min, might delete later and rewrite it

Miami. The first thing that came to your mind was the heat and the money that this city had, but after tonight, this city will hold a different memory, the memory of your boyfriend winning his first Grand Prix.

You woke up in the morning with a burst of energy, Lando wasn’t as energetic, he crashed in the sprint, his qualifying wasn’t the best, and he didn’t expect anything big for today. He ate breakfast with slumped shoulders, every few seconds he let out a sigh, and you tried to get him into a better mood, but whatever you did, nothing helped.

“Today is the day for new opportunities”, that’s what you told him this morning, trying to get him excited.

If he had the opportunity to call in sick for work, he would’ve.

The race started, and it didn’t look the best for Lando, it annoyed him even more that Oscar had an even better start, not only was he one (sprint) race win ahead of him, but he also was chasing for p1 now, while Lando had to pass several cars to be close to him.

You sat in the garage, feeling the normal race jitters and crossing your fingers, you would always be proud of Lando, no matter what he did, but you had a good feeling for today.

The first laps were going by fast, Lando was fighting for every position, and Oscar was fighting for P1, after some more difficulties from Max, Oscar was racing to keep his leader position. You knew what Lando was thinking, how this would be a normal race if he got lucky, p3 and if he was even more lucky, maybe a p2, but not the real thing, Lando felt too disappointed in himself.

After the crash with Sargent, and Lando pitting during the safety car, you knew this would be it. Max was losing more and more time behind him, and couldn’t catch up with Lando. He was flying today, getting the fastest lap almost every time he crossed the finish line. The more laps passed, the more excited you got, holding hands with Jon, who stood next to you. When it was safe to say, that Max wouldn’t be able to catch Lando and overtake him, you were walking up and down through the garage, a TV camera was on you constantly, showing you on the screen how you nervously were trying to get rid of your nerves, but to your dismay, you didn’t.

During the last lap, you were watching the screen through your fingers, too scared that he would crash on the last meters. You’ve been in this position before, you don’t want to think about Sochi, but you were scared he was going to repeat this nightmare, thank god it wasn’t about to rain anytime soon.

When Lando crossed the finish line in P1, you fell to your knees with your hands in front of your face, crying. This was his dream, and you were so incredibly lucky to experience that dream with him.

Before you could continue to cry, Jon lifted you off the ground and dragged you up, hugging you tightly before running with you to where you would wait for Lando.

You stood behind that barricade and waited for your boyfriend to come get congratulated, you watched on the big screen how he got out of his car and you saw him take a deep breath. Carlos being the first to congratulate, was such a carlando thing, but now you couldn’t wait to be in his arms. Your tears were still rolling down your cheeks, and no matter how much effort you put into wiping them off your cheeks, new ones were coming by the second.

After what felt like days, you finally saw Lando running towards you.

You opened your arms and waited for the impact that was about to hit you, with the speed he was running at you. He closed his arms around you, and you did the same, squeezing him tightly and muttering: ‘congratulations’ over and over again. You heard him sobbing, he probably didn’t even realize what he had just done, he was shaking and when he lifted his head off your shoulder, his eyes were red and tears were spilling out of his eyes with no control, but you were no different.

You could wait for all the memes and pictures you were about to see on social media, you and Lando were crying messes, the kiss you shared after hugging for what felt like hours, tasted like tears and happiness. You couldn’t believe he was a race winner now.

His team celebrated him the perfect way, throwing him in the air and hugging him close. The hugs he shared with Zak and Andrea, warmed your heart, you knew how much he meant to these two and vice versa.

After the interviews where he thanked his family, but especially you, for always supporting him no matter what, he was driven to the podium, just like you and the rest of the McLaren team, you had to see him lifting that trophy.

When he came out running, even more tears spilled out of your eyes, you knew you were an emotional mess, and it would stay like this for the rest of the day. And the way Lando was wiping away the tears while listening to the British hymn, you knew he was no different, especially hearing the Lando chants from every direction, you all knew, this was long overdue.

He threw his trophy in the air, and you were scared he was going to break it, but he safely caught it and pointed to his heart and then at you. This was cheesy, but at this moment, he was allowed to do whatever he wanted. He felt like the king of the world.

Popping the champagne was always your favorite part, and with the way Charles and Max were drenching him in the liquid, you knew you would be soaked in it too, after some more hugs, which followed immediately after he came down from the podium.

The rest of the day was spent partying and celebrating Lando and McLaren, you were incredibly proud of him and what he achieved today.

taglist: @millinorizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg @noneofyourfbusinessworld @myownwritings

[hihomeghere]

Salt and Pepper | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word count : 1.4k Summary : Arthur notices his hair is starting to gray. I saw a post on here about Arthur with salt and pepper hair and I couldn’t stop myself hehe. Warnings/Tags : talk about death, getting old, Arthur loves his wife, no tb, Arthur and reader own a house, mention of past gang members, cursing, lots of fluff, self deprecation on Arthur’s side, bullets, mention of weight gain (in a positive way)

“Godamn ugly bastard.” Arthur huffed, his gaze piercing as he looked into the mirror. He hadn’t meant to have himself a pity party this morning. In fact he was feeling quite fine this morning before looking in the small bathroom mirror. Waking up next to you always puts a spring in his step. Especially when he’s waking up in a real bed, underneath a soft quilt that you happened to sew in some free time. Mismatched patches and all, it was his favorite thing in the small home you two shared. Hell, you were becoming quite domestic ever since the house was completed.

But he wasn’t exactly expecting to find gray hair sprouting from his hairline. He wasn’t that old, was he?

“Jesus.” He sighed, inspecting further he realized it wasn’t one or two gray hairs, it was almost twenty. Hidden under his longer than normal locks after forgoing a haircut for the last couple weeks. He was surprised you hadn’t noticed them, especially with how much you loved to run your fingers through his hair. Although, he loved it just as much, maybe even more.

God, he needed to get rid of these before you saw them. He was sure you had some tweezers around here somewhere. He opened up your drawer, rifling around for your tweezers. Bingo. His hands gripped the small piece of metal, a triumphant smile on his face.

It was only once he looked back up into the mirror, determined to fix this issue before you woke up, that he noticed you padding into the bathroom. Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his middle.

“Mornin’.” You hummed, laying your cheek against his bicep, smiling sweetly at him through the mirror.

“Mornin’.” He said, clearing his throat.

“What do you need those for?” You asked, eyeing the tweezers in his hand. Caught red handed, he tried coming up with some excuse.

“Nothin’ sweetheart.” He said, giving you his signature smile, kissing your forehead. He slipped the tweezers into his pocket for safe keeping, at least until he had a free moment without you around. After all those years on the run and he could come up with nothing, Hosea would have been so disappointed in his lack of an answer. He swore he could hear the old man chastising him now.

“For a former outlaw you sure are an awful liar.” You tutted, shaking your head, slipping your fingers into his pocket and pulling out the tweezers.

“Well it ain’t my fault,” He huffed playfully, “Could never get nothin’ past you anyway.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. You removed your hands from around his waist, leaning back on the sink as you looked up at him.

“Spill.” You said raising an eyebrow, your arms crossed over your chest.

Knowing he’d been caught, Arthur hung his head, a low sigh leaving his lips.

“It’s just-“ He cursed, turning to look away from you, “Well I’m goin’ gray.” He admitted, not meeting your eyes.

“And?” You asked in such a nonchalant manner.

“And?” He asked looking up at you, his brows furrowed.

“So you have some gray hairs.” You said with a shrug, “You’re acting like the damn world is ending.” You chuckled softly, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Well-“ Arthur sighed, pursing his lips, he didn’t want to be vain but damn it, it did feel like the world was ending.

“Honey.” You said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Ain’t nothing wrong with some gray hairs.” You said, shaking your head, looking so goddamn patient as always. What he did in a past life to deserve you he would never know, he definitely didn’t deserve you in this one. You smiled, running your thumb over his couple day old stubble. He couldn’t help but sigh softly, leaning into your touch.

“Just makes me feel old ‘s all.” He shrugged, closing his eyes.

“Arthur.” You said softly, he opened his eyes. His bright azure pools looking into yours. “Getting old means we’re still alive.” You said pointedly, not missing the way your fingers trailed lightly down his chest.

He sighed softly, anyone who said he was the most like Hosea had obviously never had a one on one conversation with you. You had shared the same dry wit along with being just as wise as the old man. Sometimes he wondered if the two of you were more closely related than just being adopted by him as a kid.

As your hand settled over his heart, he couldn’t help but remember a time when you didn’t have this place. When his next breath had been an undeserved blessing. When you and Charles had pulled his broken body off that godforsaken mountain. You were right, he should be grateful for these gray hairs and new lines on his face. Should be grateful that he made it this far out west with you, where the air was dryer and slowly his lungs didn’t hurt as bad with each breath.

If anything he should be grateful that you’re here, here in this house. The house that he built specifically for you. That you’re not buried six feet under like most of the fellow gang members. That you didn’t catch a bullet like Lenny or Sean, how he wished they could have had the chance to grown old. Even as mouthy as Sean was, the poor bastard didn’t deserve that. Lenny was just a boy, foolish enough to be sucked in by Dutch’s silver tongue. He shook his head trying to clear any thoughts of the past.

God, along with the fact that somehow both of you still happen to be standing, the fact that you chose to stand by him after everything you went through makes his head swim. You could have left him at any point, hell he had begged you to leave after his death sentence. And yet, here you were.

“Guess you’re right.” He said, a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Course I am.” You teased, a smile spreading across your face. You leaned forward, brushing your nose against his. He accepted your silent invitation, pressing his lips against yours. So soft and warm and inviting. He could feel you smile against his lips. That small smile warmed him from the inside out, nearly making his toes curl.

Jesus, he was lucky. More than lucky, he still couldn’t figure out how he had tricked you into marrying him. He wanted to be the best version of himself for you, he had made a promise to try every day to be a better man for you. You shouldn’t be tied down to a miserable old fool like himself.

As if you could read his mind, which he often suspected you could, your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Besides,” You began as you pulled away, “I like the salt and pepper look.” Arthur scoffed, shaking his head.

“Really?” He asked, raising a brow.

“Really.” You nodded, running your hand through his hair. “Think you get more handsome every day.” If anyone was getting prettier every day it was you. Your hair was longer, cascading down your shoulders in waves. No longer tied up in a tight braid or bun. You looked relaxed, at peace. You became softer once you both settled into your new lifestyle. Not just emotionally, although you still had that fire which had first drawn him towards you, like a moth to a flame. You were physically softer, your harsh edges smoothing out as you started to eat and sleep better. Your curves became more prominent, and he certainly didn’t mind having more to hold onto late at night.

Maybe you truly did feel the same about him. He had never known you to lie. A blush settled on his cheeks at the thought. He shook his head, a small chuckle rumbling through his chest.

“Yeah, alright darlin’.” He says taking your face in his hands, kissing you again before you had the chance to embarrass him further.

Maybe getting old wasn’t so bad if you had someone to grow old with.

[undressrehearsal]

dare to fuck this up

summary: ever since your last game of truth or dare ellie's been avoiding you and it's time for an intervention

tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs and alcohol (not used), oral (e receiving), fingering (r receiving), finger riding (r receiving), little bit of angst, afab reader, the knee thing

a/n: this took me 2 months cause i work full time and it's 10k words so. enjoy (thank u for all the love on part 1! <3) also for anyone who doesn't know the tiktok dance i mentioned i linked it. don't look under the sound you'll spend way too long watching hot women dance

part 1

You hadn't talked about it. 

You had woken up the next morning, the sun blinding you from the window that was still left open. A cold autumn breeze ruffled your curtains, pricking at your bare skin. With one foot still in a dream, you'd groaned, turning over and pulling your blanket over your head. You had burrowed your head into your pillow - it still smelled earthy, rich with cologne and the faintest smell of weed. It had made your nose wrinkle only briefly, before you had reached out, searching for the warmth of another body - but your fingers only landed on the sheets, now cool to the touch. 

You sat up with a gasp, the blanket pooling around your lap. But you had fallen asleep on top of your blankets, hadn't you? 

The comforter was laid neatly over you, the pillows on the other side of the bed propped against your headboard, unbothered. The sun was streaming through the window, filtering through your curtains and shining in splatters of light against your own bare skin. Your small room was deafeningly quiet. 

That had been three weeks ago. 

For three weeks, Ellie avoided you. You hadn't seen her when you left to take your exam that morning. By the time you got home - after classes and after your part-time job - it was dark. The door to her bedroom was firmly shut, the muffled sound of music leaking into the living room - you wanted to smile when you realized she was listening to that song you had recommended. You thought about knocking on her door; not even to talk about what happened, really, but just because she was your best friend. Instead, you ate leftover takeout - cold because you were too tired to microwave it - and went to bed. You could hear her quietly singing to the music through your flimsy wall, falling asleep listening to her voice. 

At first, you honestly thought you had dreamed it. You thought maybe you had fallen asleep, sleep deprivation and vodka drawing out this fantasy in your dreams to torment you when you woke. But when you looked in the mirror, the bruises were still there. You ran your fingertips across the one on your collarbone, pressing at the one left behind your ear; you could still feel the warmth of Ellie's mouth against your skin, her teeth grazing across your hips. The phantom feeling still sent a shiver down your spine, heat creeping in your stomach. 

Ellie was trying her best to avoid you, but she still lived with you. After three days of not speaking, you resorted to a different approach. She didn't seem to have any plan to speak with you anytime soon - certainly not about what happened - so you let your body do the talking. You began wearing primarily v-necks and tank tops - ignoring the fact that it was still fall - simply to broadcast the line of lovebites she had left, her signature written all over your skin. They had faded slightly, but the purplish bruises still blossomed along your collar. You began wearing shorts around, short enough to show the bruise on your thigh; you let the fabric sit low enough to show the one at your hip, a pretty blend of colors that made you ache. The few times you did see her - when she was scavenging for food in the kitchen or right when she got home, before she could scurry away back to her room - you could feel her eyes lingering on you, gaze like a brand against your skin, burning all the spots she had marked. 

And she would hurry back to her room, locking the door behind her. 

Fine. 

If she refused to talk about it, you thought, you'd just have to make her. 

Which is why, three weeks after your original game - three weeks after that stupid fucking night - you bought a new bottle of vodka (by the time you had found the old one, it had spilled the last of its contents into your rug. Your room still smelled of it). When you got home, Ellie’s door was shut, just as it had been every day for three weeks. You kicked off your boots, leaving them in a pile in the hall, and knocked on her door.

“Sorry, I’m busy,” she called - just as she had every day for three weeks. 

You pursed your lips and knocked again, harder. 

“I’m busy!” she called again, her voice hard. It might have stung if you didn’t know her so well.

So, you knocked again. And kept knocking, a steady, continuous rhythm that echoed against the walls. You heard Ellie curse under her breath, could hear the scrape of her chair and her footsteps, and you kept knocking. You didn’t stop - didn’t even slow - until she opened the door in a huff, your hand falling against open air. 

“What the hell are you-” 

You shoved the bottle of vodka against her chest, cutting her off. She gripped it hastily before it could shatter against the floor. 

She looked frazzled. You had seen her during several exam seasons, during harrowing projects and infuriating essays. You had seen her in the hospital, two years ago, after breaking her leg skateboarding to work. But there was something in the way her hair was disheveled, sticking up at odd angles as though she had been running her fingers through it over and over and over again. There were bags under her eyes, purplish splotches like watercolor. 

And her eyes…. Her eyes were completely shattered. 

So you hesitated - briefly, just long enough for her to see the stutter on your lips - before you said, “Truth or dare?”

And the game began. 

Ellie looked at you, staring for several moments that stretched into infinity. You wanted to grasp it, to wrap your fingers around that stretched thread of a moment and hold it there where it couldn't hurt either of you. You weren't ready to let it go. But Ellie was looking at you with those broken eyes, and before you could say or do anything - before you caved and took the bottle back, fleeing back to the safety of your own room - the thread snapped. 

Ellie shook her head - and kept shaking it, as if doing so would rid her of this… whatever this was. “No,” she murmured, avoiding your eyes as her grip around the bottle’s neck tightened. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m busy, okay? I have an exam tomorrow-”

She moved to close the door - shutting it right in your face - but you kicked your foot out to stop it. 

“When somebody asks the question,” you said, reciting the stupid little agreement you both had written out two years ago, the night you established this tradition, “you have to play the game to its conclusion; when you run out of questions or pass out from alcohol poisoning. Those are the rules, El. Remember?” 

And still, she just looked at you, her brow furrowed like you were an equation she couldn’t solve - couldn’t even read, really. Her knuckles were white around the bottle’s neck, and when you looked down, her hands were shaking. You wanted more than anything to put your hands over hers, to still them - to bring those hands to your lips and kiss the white knuckles until she released her fists. Instead, you dug your nails into your thighs. 

You watched as Ellie took a deep, steadying breath, clenching her fists tighter before releasing the tension, her fingers relaxing around the bottle; her hands stopped trembling. She smiled at you, but it was tight, her eyes empty of their usual mischief. “Alright,” she said, and her voice was just as tight as her fists had been moments ago - the tension not gone, only transferred. “Okay, I’ll play. But you only get an hour - I really do need to study.” 

Ellie’s bedroom was the same layout as yours, only flipped, the two a mirror of each other. Strings of lights hung crookedly along the walls, the bulbs casting a soft, warm glow amongst the room, the same hazy hue of a dream. An easel leaned in one corner, a canvas propped against it; there were only the barest scribbles of an outline, incomprehensible to you. You thought it may be a profile, the gentle slope of a nose and soft lips sketched in pencil, but you weren’t sure. 

You ran your fingers over her desk as you passed; it was in absolute disarray. Two different astronomy textbooks lay open, covered in highlighter markings and Ellie’s sloping writing in the margins. There were three different cups on the surface in varying levels of full: a mug half full of coffee, still steaming; a glass of water that was completely full, untouched; and a cup filled with murky, grey liquid. A few paintbrushes had been left to sit in that one, and in large writing along the cup was written PAINT DO NOT DRINK. You almost laughed, remembering all the times you had watched your roommate spit water out after she had picked up the wrong cup. 

It felt strange when you sat gingerly on her bed. You had sat in this spot so many times before, more than you could count. You had spent so much time lounging on this bed, your laptop open in front of you while Ellie worked at her desk - on homework or her latest painting or nothing at all. There were days laid out before you where you both at lain in a crumbled heap, eating takeout on top of the covers because Ellie didn't give a shit about crumbs, an open laptop playing whatever horror movie she wanted to show you (she was always more scared than you, hiding her face in your shoulder). God knows how many truth or dare games you had played in this room, a bottle of alcohol passing between shaking fingers. When Ellie bought it, it was cheap whiskey and you hated it; you drank it anyway. 

Now, sitting on her bed - carefully, as though you thought it might break - your skin felt aflame, a fire burning in your muscles. When you ran your fingers over the messy sheets, you could only remember how it had felt to have your fingers clutching the ones on your own bed. 

Ellie sat at her desk across from you, folding herself so that she had one foot propped up on the chair with her, her knee folded to her chest; her other foot tapped anxiously against the floor. She was looking at you, her face strategically neutral, but it was like she was looking through you; her eyes kept shifting away, unable or unwilling to settle on you. Her voice gave nothing away when she said, looking at a spot above your shoulder, “Dare.” 

You sighed, feeling the questions wanting to claw their way from your throat with nowhere to go. You knew what you wanted her to do - what you wanted to dare her to do - but the words would only cause her to withdraw further. You felt like you had to approach Ellie as if she were a scared animal, ready to flee at the first sight of danger. 

Wracking your brain for something mild, you said, ��Try to recreate one of those dumb popular TikTok dances.” 

You didn't miss how Ellie's shoulders relaxed, her hands noticeably unclenching. She looked at you and it was almost like nothing had happened; like she hadn’t been avoiding you for three entire weeks, becoming a ghost in your apartment. Like you both hadn’t made what had obviously been a drunken mistake. 

The beginning of a smirk tugged at her lips as she dug in her back pocket for her phone - its case had an astronaut on it, because of course it did. The screen illuminated her face, flashes reflecting minutely in her eyes as she scrolled. She bit her lip absently - she often did when she was thinking. You tried not to stare and failed miserably. 

“This’ll be easy,” she muttered to herself, half laughing. She scrolled through a few videos, and she had the volume down on her phone, but you could still recognize the song that kept playing on repeat; you were going to fucking die. 

There were several minutes of quiet, only the music playing from Ellie’s phone. With nothing to do but wait, you brought your legs up onto the bed, tucking them under you; your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the stack of paintings by her desk, both finished and unfinished. The figurine she had of Kassandra from Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey had toppled on her desk, her spear falling in a glob of paint, the tip smudged bright yellow. You investigated the posters she had hung up of her favorite bands - almost all of them with female singers; she had a very specific taste. On her nightstand, in a frame made of macaroni, there was a picture of her and her dad, taken at the zoo when she was quite a bit younger, the blurry image of a giraffe in the background. She was holding up a peace sign, smiling so wide her eyes were practically shut. 

You turned back when Ellie stood up from her chair, placing her phone on her desk. Shoving her hands in her hair, she said, “Can’t promise this’ll be anything amazing, but you get what you paid for.” Even as she said it, she was smirking, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. 

You watched as she rummaged in her closet, shoving aside probably half a dozen flannels and at least 10 different band t-shirts. She rummaged through a bucket with a few beanies in different colors, and you couldn’t see her face, but you already knew she would be wrinkling her nose like she always did when she was getting frustrated. 

You jumped, startled, when she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her head from her closet and turning to you with a triumphant grin. She held a black belt in her fist, holding it up like a trophy. 

You shook your head at her, even as your throat closed up with anticipation. “If it took you that long to find one, it’s no wonder your pants are always hanging from your fucking ass.” 

“Hey,” she said, picking up her phone again and looking at you with mock offense; she was still smirking. “I don’t exactly hear you complaining when my ass is out.” 

You heard the stutter, heard the way her breath caught after she said the words. It was so stupid - a stupid little remark that she would have made any other day three weeks ago. She wouldn’t have even thought about it, wouldn’t have batted an eye. You would have rolled your eyes and said something mean in response - something like, “I save my complaints for when I see your face instead.” You would have laughed and then watched a fucking movie or something. 

Instead, Ellie only coughed awkwardly, ducking her head to fiddle with her phone. In the dim light, you could see the flush of her cheeks behind her bangs. You looked anywhere but at her, your eyes darting around to find something to focus on that wasn’t how pretty she looked when she was flushed pink - how pretty she looked with her cheeks red from alcohol and exertion, her lips shining wetly - 

Your brain short-circuited when Ellie started the music - only the bite-sized sample that was trending on TikTok. She set her phone on her desk and took a deep breath, waiting for the song to loop again as she positioned the belt by her hips. She didn’t look at you, instead casting her eyes to the ceiling and muttering, “This is gonna be so stupid.” 

When the music looped again, you were forced to watch as Ellie thrust her hips to the beat, pulling the belt slowly away from her hips. When she brought it up to wrap the piece of leather around her neck, pulling it taut, you were surely convinced you must be paying for some sort of crime, that this was your eternal torture. Her movements were janky, stuttering and unsure and off-beat - she had only watched the videos for a few minutes and was relying solely on memory to guide her limbs. When she tried to tie her wrists into the belt, she got stuck, her hands ending up in a knotted mess. Still, her eyes met yours when she raised her bound hands above her head - coincidentally or purposefully - and you couldn’t look away. 

This was definitely Hell. It had to be. 

When the song started to loop again, Ellie hastily tried to pull her hands from the knot. The belt clattered to the floor, abandoned, as she scooped her phone up, fumbling with the buttons to cut off the music. She nearly dropped her phone in her haste. 

When the room was silent again, Ellie sat back down at her desk. Last time you had played, you had asked her to do something ridiculous for her first dare, and she had grinned with pride, practically preening. Now, she wasn't smiling; she hardly even looked at you, fiddling with one of the many paintbrushes on her desk. You compartmentalized the image of her thrusting her hips with her hands bound over her head, saving it for later. You always did torture yourself with these things. 

Ellie was looking at that same spot over your shoulder when she said, “Truth or dare?” She sounded pained, her words strained against some invisible weight. It was like your very presence in her room - on her bed - pained her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave and give her relief. 

“Truth,” you said, hoping against hope that she would ask you fucking anything about that night three weeks ago. 

But she had never been that easy. Ellie had never been one to give you straight answers and she wasn’t about to start now - especially not now. So instead of saying anything - asking anything - about that night that she seemed keen on forgetting, she asked, “What’s the worst first date you’ve been on?” Before you could protest that you always told her about your worst dates, she added, “One I haven’t heard before.” 

So for the span of one question, you let yourself believe that you were still talking to your best friend. That she hadn’t been avoiding you for three fucking weeks and this was only your typical truth or dare game in between studying. You believed that you were simply gossiping with Ellie, who had been your best friend for several years and nothing more. In the space of one question, you let yourself believe that this was still only a game and not an intervention. 

So, in the spirit of pretend, you thought for a moment, rifling through the index of all the shitty dates you’ve been on. Ellie had already heard most of them, had been there whenever you came back home; she was there whether you were heartbroken or relieved that you wouldn’t see the person again. There were a few times where you had come home laughing, and she had passed you a joint as you told her all about the horrible date - you would take twice as long to tell the story because you couldn’t stop laughing. 

Finally, you said, “Okay, this was before we came to college. We weren’t close enough friends in high school for me to tell you, so I don’t think you’ve heard this one before. Stop me if I’m wrong.” She waved her hand for you to continue, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “I had just graduated high school so I was dating around before I left for college - nothing serious, just casually looking around.” 

“Window shopping,” she interrupted you with a grin - that same easy grin she always had with you. Your heart tugged embarrassingly at seeing it again. 

You swallowed the lump and continued, “Yeah. So, I went on a date with this guy - he was some friend of a friend’s, I didn’t know much about him. We went out to dinner at some local dive bar - which was already fucking weird because, like I said, I had just graduated high school.” 

“Was this guy a fucking cradle robber?” Ellie said, wrinkling her nose. 

You shook your head. “He may as well have been. He was either 21 or he was just really good friends with the bartender because as soon as he came in, he got two beers - the cheap shit, too. It tasted like musty ass.” Your stomach twisted when she laughed. “So we sit at a booth and I finally get a second to really look at him.” You leaned forward, bracing your hand on the bed so you wouldn’t fall, and made sure she was looking right at you when you said, “And this motherfucker was wearing a shirt that said Black Rifles Matter.” 

You reveled in the way Ellie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening. Her lip turned up in disgust, and the only thing she could say was, “No.” 

You grinned, nodding, and you had to focus really hard to not start laughing. “Yes. And I rolled up to this dive bar, fresh out of the womb, with bright pink hair freshly dyed and a crop top that literally said Femme on it in bright pink letters - which, okay, maybe not the choice to wear on a first date with a straight guy, but still. I was in this booth with a baby face looking every bit as queer as I am, and this fucking dude with a patchy mustache and a shirt that has more problems than I care to admit opens up by telling me he doesn’t like when girls dye their hair.” 

Ellie was rolling her eyes, on the edge of her seat. She leaned closer as you continued, “But fine, whatever, everybody has preferences I guess. But this guy gets three beers in, and he’s already been talking about weird shit - conspiracy theories and telling me how kids today are too soft - one of those fucking guys, right? But then he stops,” you hold up your hands for emphasis, leaning even closer, “and he leans into me over the table, and he looks me straight in the eye - you wanna know what he said?” 

Ellie groaned. “Tell me he didn’t ask who you voted for or some shit.” 

You barked out a laugh; it echoed on the walls. “God, I wish. No, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, his breath reeking of bad beer, and he says, ‘Are you on your period? I have this weird talent for smelling when girls are on their period.’” 

You watched, delighted, as Ellie slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling a choked gasp. “No!” 

You couldn’t stop laughing, pressing your hand to your stomach as you fell back against the sheets. Her laugh filled the room like helium, making everything feel lighter - easier. Even now, you couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was being around Ellie. And for a moment, you did forget what had happened. You forgot about the string pulled taut between you waiting to snap. You forgot that this was anything more than simply another dumb game of truth or dare.

Until you looked up and saw the press of Ellie’s lips again, the way her eyes darted away, and you could feel yourself sinking again. 

And that’s how the hour went. Ellie - infuriating Ellie - did every single dare you asked of her. She did a handstand for a minute straight, her face turning so red you thought she might pass out. She called the local pizza place you often ordered from and asked for one hundred sardine pizzas, laughing when the poor teenage boy on the other line started stuttering. Last time, she didn’t take all the liquid in the fridge and make a nauseating cocktail; but this time, she did go and find four different liquids of her choosing - apple juice, almond milk, an old flat Dr. Pepper, and the remaining vinegar in a Kimchi jar - and downed it in front of you. She tried her hardest to hold a straight face, but only ended up scrunching her eyes closed, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle a gag. She never chose truth. 

For your part, you never chose dare. You answered every pressing, embarrassing question she asked, ignoring the flush to your cheeks. You told her the most absurd dealbreaker for a relationship. (“What do you mean you’ll break up with someone if they don’t like garlic?” Ellie asked, smiling even as she shook her head.”) You went through the original Wiggles band and said which you would fuck, marry, or kill (“There are four of them! Do I choose to have a threesome?”) 

And you waited. Each time you chose truth, you held your breath. You watched Ellie mull it over, her eyes darting around as she thought, and prayed that she would just ask you something. You knew it was an unrealistic wish, but you still watched her lips and hoped against hope that she would give you some kind of acknowledgement that this wasn’t all for nothing. You just wanted her to stop being such a pussy and fucking talk about what happened. 

But the clock kept ticking. 

After about an hour had passed, Ellie looked at her phone and sighed, standing up. “Okay, I really have to get back to studying. I have this dumb astrophysics exam tomorrow and I can’t wrap my fucking head around this shit, so I have to -”

“One more,” you cut her off, standing up from the bed. You followed her as she walked to the door, one step behind her when she put a hand on the doorknob. She paused, her hand frozen there as she looked at you - actually looked at you, not through you. It was only a moment, but it was there; you could feel the way her eyes had branded your skin even after she’d looked away. Your voice was rushed, breathless when you added, “We haven’t even opened the bottle, so what’s one more? Just for fun.” 

Ellie looked behind you, back at the vodka bottle on her desk with the seal still intact. She sighed, but she never could say no to you. 

“Fine,” she said, and her voice was so quiet in the dark room; the word felt like a secret between you, soft against the tension stretched thin. “One more.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. You tried to sound casual - you really did - but when you spoke, you found you couldn’t speak any louder than a whisper, afraid to disturb the air around you. You ducked your head, trying to meet her eyes when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 

She looked at you, meeting your eyes, and she seemed to deflate, sighing out a breath that ruffled your hair - you hadn’t realized how close you were. Her breath smelled of canned ravioli and weed; it was almost enough to make you laugh. 

Ellie took a step back, clearing her throat, and answered for one last time, “Dare.” Because she was too afraid of the fucking truth. 

And fuck it if your heart didn’t stutter in your chest. You felt your fingertips buzzing, your stomach twisting nauseatingly. You felt like you were going to be sick, but you forced yourself to look up at her. You squared your shoulders, feeling like you were preparing for fucking battle, and said, the words familiar on your tongue, “Kiss me.” 

A moment of silence passed, the words suspended between you. They were tangible, and part of you still wanted to snatch them back - to swallow them and leave, to pretend this never happened - but you didn’t. You held them out to Ellie - you weren’t sure if they were a threat or an offering. 

Ellie didn’t recoil, and you weren’t sure if that was more insulting. She looked at you for a long moment before turning away, shaking her head and turning the doorknob. “I really need to study, okay? I don’t have time for thi-” 

You put your hand against the door, holding it there so she couldn’t open it. Your stomach was a mess, tying itself into knots that you would never be able to undo. And you knew - you were far too aware - that this could ruin everything. It could drive her further away, pushing her further into this little cocoon she was hiding in. Ellie might hate you for it. 

But this was too important to ignore. 

“Kiss me, Ellie,” you said again, and you could feel the bite of it on your own tongue. When you had said it three weeks ago, you had been so unsure. It had been a rush of words on a breath, tinged with alcohol and desperation. The words had been so careless, a sober idea that had made its way from your drunken mouth. 

Now, Ellie was the one who couldn’t look at you. She stared at the spot where your hand pressed to the door, willing you to let go. Her knuckles were white around the doorknob. Her voice was a rumble that you felt in your chest when she said, “I need you to leave. Please.” That last word - please - made your heart break. 

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and said, “No.” 

Ellie finally turned her whole body towards you, but she was wearing a mask; she had schooled her face into a mockery of nonchalance, her eyebrows raised expectantly as she watched you. She crossed her arms, leaning against her hip, and watched you with measured expectancy, shaking her head. She shrugged and said, “What do you want? I really need to study.” 

And it was the lack of care that broke you. 

You slapped your hand against the door in frustration, feeling the sting in your palm, disappointed when Ellie didn’t so much as jump. You shook your head at her, and you were so fucking angry you could feel tears stinging at your eyes. You blinked them away and snapped, “What’s your fucking problem?” 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up, her mouth opening in indignant shock. “What’s my problem?” 

“Yeah,” you cut her off before she could even continue. “What’s your fucking problem? You know what happened - what we did - but ever since that night you have been so determined to act like it never happened. You haven’t even talked to me in three fucking week, Ellie!” She closed her eyes when your voice broke on her name. “You’ve hardly looked at me all night. And look,” you sniffled, feeling some of the fire in you die down, “if you regret it - if you want to act like it never happened and go back to how things were before, I get it, okay? But can you at least have the balls to fucking tell me?” 

Your voice echoed off the silent walls, filling the space between you until you couldn’t breathe. You wiped a hand roughly over your face; your cheeks burned and you hated yourself for it. The room was so quiet you feared Ellie could hear the sound of your racing heart. 

It felt like hours before Ellie spoke; her voice was so heartbreakingly quiet, tip toeing on eggshells that were already broken. “I don’t regret it.” 

You huffed out a breath, shaking your head as she still wouldn’t meet your eyes. She couldn’t even look at you. When you took a step closer, you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, could feel the warmth in your chest. Your voice had lost its fire, your throat cold and raw and broken. You could only murmur, “Then kiss me again, Els. What are you so afraid of?” 

“You,” she snapped. You jumped, taking a step back; your heart lurched when she finally looked at you. Those shattered eyes were watching you, so open and vulnerable you wanted to look away. You forced yourself to watch, to bear witness to it when she shook her head, blinking tears from her eyes. Ellie pressed her lips together, blinking several times before releasing her held breath. She held your gaze like it was a lifeline and said, “I’m scared of you.” 

And just for a moment - so filled with silence it might pop - you saw it. You saw how Ellie had run from you like an injured animal, hiding away. You saw the way her hands shook around her biceps. You saw the way she bit her lip to keep it from quivering. 

You shook your head, feeling so incredibly small underneath those eyes that had avoided you all night; now they were vividly, overwhelmingly focused, broken in the hazy light and so green it was dizzying (and you couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol this time). You didn’t recognize your own voice, so small and vulnerable that the words themselves ached: “How can I fix this, Els? You want me to-” You huffed out a heavy breath, choking on your own voice. “Do you want me to act like it didn’t happen? Do you want me to leave you alone? I’ll do whatever you want, Ellie, I just… fuck. I just want my best friend back. So just… tell me what I did wrong.” 

You jumped when Ellie barked out a laugh, so dry it cracked. It may have been a trick of the light, the soft string lights making everything feel unreal, but when she looked at you again, she went impossibly soft. 

“You,” she said, so softly it ached, “haven't done anything wrong.” She sighed, leaning back against the wall; it was like all the fight suddenly drained from her, her shoulders sagging against the weight of three weeks. She looked away, her lashes casting shadows over her cheeks, and said, quiet as a confession, “You were drunk.” 

You furrowed your brow, shaking your head. “What?” 

Ellie ran a hand through her hair, making it even more disheveled. Pathetically, you wanted to fix it; you knew how soft the strands would be under your fingers. 

“You were drunk,” she repeated, as though it pained her; as though it explained everything. Her voice broke, the shattered pieces falling at your feet. “And I…. Fuck, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… forced myself on you.” She heaved in a shaky breath, her words tumbling from her, broken glass cutting her throat, leaving it raw. “I couldn’t even… wait for you to wake up after. I just fucking ran - I couldn’t even look at you, and that’s even shittier! And for three weeks, I’ve been trying to figure out how to fucking talk to you when I know that we - that I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Ellie pressed her hand to her mouth, taking in a shaking breath - her entire body was trembling as she fought to hold it all in. She looked ready to burst, struggling to take in a deep breath. You reached out to grab her hand - to hold her together - but she flinched away. 

“I don’t-” you started, unable to find the words. You watched your best friend dissolve, and you couldn’t seem to fit all her pieces back together. “Ellie… Els, are you saying you’re avoiding me because - because you thought you took advantage of me.” The words tasted ridiculous on your tongue, a foreign object.

Ellie was shaking her head wildly, her hands balled into fists. “You were drunk!” she repeated, like a mantra. She pressed a hand to her chest as though to keep everything in. “You were drunk, and you kept telling me no, and I just… pushed. I pushed and I didn’t know when to stop and, fuck, I still can’t believe I did that and I didn’t even have the fucking balls to face you or even tell you I’m sorry, and-” 

“Ellie.” You reached out and grabbed her wrist, cutting off her rambling; she flinched again but didn’t pull away. She looked up at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable and so impossibly green. “For one, do I need to remind you we were both drunk. And that I was the one who told you to kiss me?”

She watched you carefully, guarded; her bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss it again more than anything. She took in a deep, shaky breath, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks; they mixed with her freckles like watercolor. “You kept telling me to stop - to leave it alone. And I didn’t listen.” 

“Els, I told you to stop because I was scared,” you admitted in a rush. Before she could respond, you continued, “Not of you. I was scared of how badly I wanted you, okay? And that’s fucking embarrassing to admit, but I’m saying it so you know it wasn’t your fault. I was scared because… fuck.” You scrubbed a hand over your face, feeling tears on your own cheeks. “Because you’re my best friend. And I knew that, as much as I wanted it, it could fuck everything up. But I didn’t want you to stop.” 

She shook her head. Her voice was raw when she said, “You couldn’t fuck anything up. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Neither did you,” you practically shouted. “Ellie, I asked you to kiss me! Yeah, I had a few shots that night, but I knew what I was doing. You asked me how long I’ve wanted it - what did I say, Els? Tell me.” 

Ellie looked up at you, her cheeks splotchy from crying; she let you slip your hand into hers anyway. “A long fucking time.” It was no more than a whisper. 

“Yeah,” you said, gripping her hand to keep her grounded. “Not just when I was drunk. Not just when it was late. And definitely not just when you wanted it too. I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time, Els.” 

Ellie watched you, studying you like you were an equation she couldn’t figure out (she really needed to study for that astrophysics exam). She pursed her lips, nodding slowly, rubbing roughly at her damp cheeks. “Yeah.” Her voice broke again; she cleared her throat. “Yeah. Me too.” 

You took a step towards her; her body was so warm it was dizzying. You could hear her breath catch when you reached up and pressed your palm to her cheek. 

“What do we do now?” 

When she sighed, you could feel it on your lips. You felt the warmth of her hand at your waist, a steady anchor. “Like you said,” she murmured, her gaze soft; she reached up to brush your hair from your face, her fingers grazing the side of your neck. “This could fuck everything up.” 

Your heart lurched; you swallowed it back down so it could throw a fit right next to your twisted stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered, afraid to break the spell that made Ellie’s eyes watch the way your lips moved, captivated. “But….” 

“But,” Ellie repeated, leaning in so her nose brushed against yours; it was cold against your skin. 

You hardly had to move to kiss her, tilting your chin up to finally kiss that pouty bottom lip you had been staring at. You heard her breath catch again, her fingers pressing at your waist, drawing you closer so the warmth of her pressed against you. After three fucking weeks, you hadn’t forgotten how her lips felt against yours. It was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time; you were dizzy with the way she moved her mouth against yours, warmth spreading through your chest. 

Ellie broke away from you, but she didn’t stray far; she pressed her forehead to yours, and you could see that her eyes were still closed, her brow furrowed. She sounded impossibly small when she said, “Are you sure about this? I mean, what-”

“Ellie,” you interrupted; you twisted your fingers into her short hair and tugged lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from her lips. “Just shut up for once, okay?” 

You hardly even heard her replied Okay before her mouth was on yours again. Last time she had kissed you, you had felt lightheaded, floating with the weight of alcohol in your veins. Each press of her hands on you had felt unreal and distant, like she was touching you in a dream. 

Tonight, the vodka bottle sat unopened and forgotten on her desk, and Ellie was pressing against you with a sharp realness that made your breath stutter in your throat. When her fingers ran along your jaw, cupping your face and tugging you closer, they were lightning against your skin. She had the welcoming warmth of a bonfire, and you were like a fucking moth drawn to her. 

Ellie took a hesitant step forward, pressing you back, moving so slowly as though she thought you’d push her away. You let her push you backwards - encouraged her, really, entwining your arms around her neck and tugging her with you. You stumbled on the last few steps, practically falling back against the wall; Ellie braced her hands on either side of you to keep herself up, laughing into your mouth. You wanted to swallow the sound, to take it into your chest where it could curl up right next to your heart. 

The wall was cold against your back, but Ellie was quick to chase it away; her warm hands ran up your back, rucking up your shirt and scratching her nails lightly over your skin until you shivered. She was so gentle with you this time, running her fingers over your skin with such careful deliberation, as though each kiss and each caress was meticulously planned out. 

It was with this painstaking consideration that she lifted your shirt, pooling it around your chest; you raised your arms so she could pull it over your head. 

Ellie snickered, snapping the strap of your bra against your skin. “This is new.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, batting her hand away. It was one of your nicer ones, and you couldn't tell her that, embarrassingly, you had worn it on purpose with the hopeless thought of just in case. “Sorry I’m not in my pajamas. I’ll be sure to fix that next time.” 

She grinned, ducking her head to press a kiss to your jaw. She hummed against your skin, “No, I like it.” 

You didn’t talk about the implication of what you had said - next time. But the way she kissed her way across your jaw, her teeth grazing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, promised a next time. As Ellie’s tongue darted out to lick along your pulse, you could feel the words in the breathy sigh that escaped your lips. When she ducked her head to bite at your collar, she branded the words into your skin. 

“You’re such an asshole,” she said, her laughter warm against your skin. She pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone; the bruise had long faded, but the phantom ache was still there.  You could feel her smile when your breath hitched. “Just had these on full display. Drove me insane.” 

You huffed out a laugh that stuttered when she pressed a kiss at the edge of your bra. “I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?” 

Ellie lifted her head to meet your eyes. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her breath brushing your lips when she said, “You’re crazy if you think you’ve ever not had my attention.” 

When she kissed you again, it was with a new fire that burned bright in your chest. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer so that you could feel her body against every inch of you. Her fingers dipped below the waist of your pants, pressing at the soft skin there. You felt her tongue press against your lips; when she ran it along the room of your mouth, she swallowed your moan. 

Ellie hummed against your lips, pressing you firmly into the wall and shoving a knee between your legs. You gasped at the sudden friction, heat pooling in your stomach when Ellie gripped your hips and pulled you closer, grinding against her sweatpants-covered leg. Her lips brushed against your ear and she murmured, “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.” 

She had said those same words last time, pressed drunkenly into your skin. There was an affirmation hidden somewhere underneath: Do you still want me? Before, they had been slurred, like a sloppy kiss against your lips. Now, her hands steady against your hips, her body warm from something other than vodka, it was whispered like a promise. 

You answered by pressing your hands to her chest; she didn’t fight you as you pushed her away, didn’t hesitate as you walked her backwards until the back of her knees hit her bed. She let herself fall backwards, but she wrapped her arms around your waist as she did so. You fell into a crumpled heap on top of her, knocking the air from both of your lungs, and you could feel her laughter against your neck. 

Lifting yourself up on your elbows, you glared down at her; she only answered it with a grin, lifting herself just enough to kiss you briefly. You couldn’t suppress your own smile when you said, “You’re infuriating.” 

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. She hooked her fingers in your belt loops and gave them a tug as she said, “Yeah, get used to that.” 

You kissed her again to hide your smile. You didn’t talk about the inclination of that either. 

Growing impatient, you swung your legs on either side of her, sitting up and straddling her hips. Ellie’s hands ran up your sides, captivated, as though refusing to keep her hands off you for even a moment. You idly ran your fingers over her stomach where her hoodie had risen up, the warm skin right above her sweatpants; you delighted in the way she shivered at your touch. 

“This doesn’t seem fair,” you hummed, running your hand higher up her abdomen, revealing the expanse of soft skin; if you pressed just a little bit harder, you’d be able to feel the muscles beneath. You smiled when you heard her breath stutter, chest rising just slightly to meet your touch. “You’re wearing way too many clothes.” 

Ellie - ever enthusiastic - wasted no time in sitting up just enough to tug her hoodie over her head, leaving her hair an absolute mess. She tossed it across the room; you thought you heard it knock something over, but you didn’t have a chance to look before Ellie was grabbing your hips, digging her fingers into the soft skin. You gasped when she used the leverage to pull your hips down, grinding against her. 

This time, she was the one not wearing a bra - she had been home studying all day, so you hadn’t expected otherwise - and your eyes raked over miles of fair, warm skin. You wanted to run your fingers over it and watch the shiver your touch pulled from her. You wanted to press your lips to every inch of hot skin and feel the way her body arched into you, chasing your tongue. 

But she was watching you with an intoxicating shade of anticipation in her half-lidded eyes. You realized you had been staring for a few seconds too long because she had that cocky ass grin on her stupid face. 

“Like what you see?” she teased, pulling your hips down again so you had to bite down a moan. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you mumbled. You couldn’t tell her how many times you had imagined what she would look like under your hands or how you had always wondered how far down her freckles went (you couldn’t keep yourself from running your fingers down her chest, tracing them like constellations). You couldn’t tell her how your eyes had tracked her anytime she walked around the apartment in a sports bra or, sometimes, in only a towel, your imagination running away from you. 

If you told her, she’d never let you live it down.

Instead, you let your hands drift across the small swell of her chest, feeling the way her body arched into your fingers. You had to bite back a grin when your thumb brushed over her nipple, feeling her body shudder beneath you. You wanted to record the way her breath caught in her throat to listen to over and over again. Her eyelids fluttered, her lip caught between her teeth; you knelt down to kiss her, hard and deep, smiling into it when you pinched her nipple gently and she moaned against your lips, fingers tightening around your hips. 

You needed to taste her, you realized. Your mouth watered with it. 

You bit her bottom lip between your teeth, grinning when you heard her hiss. You took a moment to kiss your way across her jaw and down her neck, open-mouthed kisses pulling sighs from her lips. You couldn’t resist sucking the skin into your mouth, feeling the way her pulse jumped under your tongue and loving the moan that rumbled in her throat, her fingers gripping your hips so tightly you were sure you'd have bruises - again. But when you pulled away and saw the red beginnings of a bruise on her pale skin, a thrill ran through you. She would have to walk around with a physical reminder of how you had made her feel. 

You loved revenge. 

But you weren’t like Ellie, who had taken her sweet time in unraveling you. You didn’t have that kind of patience - certainly not now, not tonight. You had spent far too long holding yourself back - too long averting your gaze, never letting your touch linger. You had spent so long schooling your own imagination, trying to ignore the way your heart stuttered whenever Ellie wandered too close. You had spent too many nights letting your mind wander, only feeling safe to let your imagination run when you could hide in the dark; you had spent far too many nights with your hand between your legs and the fleeting image of green eyes and that crooked fucking smile. 

So no, you didn’t have any patience left in you.

When you reached between your bodies and pressed your palm to her sweatpants, you swallowed her moan, drinking it in and feeling like you could survive on it alone. Maybe it would finally satiate your fucking thirst. 

Kissing your way down her chest, you pressed the words into her skin - “I can't fucking believe you though I didn’t want this.” - before pressing the flat of your tongue to her nipple. You could get drunk on the breathy moan that dripped from her lips, the way she arched up into you like her body ached to be closer to yours. She pressed her hips into your palm and you could feel the heat through her sweatpants. 

When you pulled back just enough to tug at her sweatpants, Ellie started laughing, breathy and hitched as she said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” Even as she said it, she was lifting her hips, pushing hastily at her pants to get them off faster. 

The fabric was damp when it dropped to the floor, pooling around her ankles. Stepping off the bed, you placed your hands on her knees, pushing them apart. You dropped to your knees and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the skin above her boxers. Her skin was hot under your tongue when you said, “Haven’t I waited long enough, Els?” 

Ellie only responded with a moan as you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh of her thigh and pressed the heel of your palm to her underwear. You grinned against her skin when she cursed, grinding down into you. You soothed the bite with your tongue and backed away to admire the red beginnings of another bruise. 

Ellie groaned, twisting her fingers in the sheets when you ground your palm into her. “Fuck, I’ve waited long enough too, right?” 

You couldn’t hold back your grin, tugging at her boxers so she would lift her hips. With her underwear around her ankles, Ellie lifted herself up on her elbows so she could look down at you. Whatever she saw - you on your knees between her legs, lips parted so your hot breath fanned over her - made her groan, another breathy curse falling from her lips. She reached down and carded her fingers through your hair, fingers soft against your temple. 

You smiled, blinking coyly up at her, and said, “Little eager, aren’t you?” before pressing the flat of your tongue to her clit. 

The moan that wracked through Ellie’s chest sent warmth spreading through your stomach, an ache pooling between your legs. You raised your eyes to watch her as you licked a slow, painstaking stripe over her slit, watching the way her mouth fell open in a choked gasp. The metallic taste of her on your tongue made your head spin; you moaned when she twisted her fingers in your hair, delicious pain stinging your scalp when she tugged. 

Ellie gasped your name like it was a promise. “Fuck - what the fuck -” Nonsensical words dripped from her lips with abandon, sweet as honey to your ears. When you ducked your head down to press your tongue inside her, a brief, hot pressure, her fingers tightened in your hair, her voice hitching when she cursed again, her words slurring together. 

You wrapped one arm around her thigh, feeling the muscle trembling as you pressed your fingers into the soft flesh. You ran your other hand up her stomach, feeling the way her breath quickened in the rise and fall of her chest. Stretching further, you flicked your thumb over her nipple and tightened your arm around her thigh when her hips bucked, holding her in place. 

You wrapped your lips around her clit, sucking it into your mouth and fighting back a smile at the keening whine it pulled from her. Her fist in your hair tugged you closer, guiding you exactly where she wanted you - and how could you resist her when she was chanting your name like a prayer? 

A shudder wracked through Ellie’s body when you flicked your tongue over her clit, lapping at her like you were starving. (After waiting so long to taste her, you might as well have been.) She groaned when you pinched her nipple between your fingers, her thighs clamping around your ears. Her legs shook when she came, your name on her tongue as though it were the only word she knew. You coaxed her through it, the flat of your tongue licking over her clit until she was gasping for breath, her hips slumping back against the bed. 

You peppered kisses over her thighs as she came down, your hand brushing across her stomach in soothing circles. Your knees ached from the cold floor, the carpet burning against your skin, but you couldn’t convince yourself to move just yet. When you glanced up at her, Ellie was looking down at you with glassy eyes; she had slumped back a little against her elbows, her limbs jelly - you tried not to let that go to your head - but she held out a hand to you, grasping for you. “Fuck, come here.” 

You both took the time to finally scoot further up the bed, Ellie's head propped on her pillow, her hair a messy halo around her. She pulled you on top of her, bracing her hands on your hips as you straddled one of her legs. When you leaned down, she tilted her chin up to meet you, kissing you lazily, licking into your mouth like she had all the time in the world - like she could kiss you forever and it still wouldn't be enough. With your elbows braced on either side of her head, it felt like you were both in a small bubble, the world left outside to wait for you. Fuck, maybe you did have all the time in the world. 

You gasped when Ellie raised her leg, pressing it between your thighs with an intoxicating pressure. She used her hands on your hips to push you down, guiding you as you grinded down against her. She broke away from the kiss, taking a moment to just look at you. Her pupils were blown, swallowing the green entirely. 

She grinned, endearingly lopsided, and murmured, “Now you're wearing too many clothes.” You whined a protest when she took her hands off your hips, but she only reached behind you to fumble with the clasp of your bra. It took her a few tries - you bit back a laugh when she cursed in frustration - and she threw it across the room when she finally got off. 

“Who the fuck designed those things?” she grumbled, fingers quick on the button on your jeans. 

You got off of her for only a moment, just long enough to kick your jeans and underwear off, but each second her skin wasn't on yours was agony. Your clothes hadn’t even fallen to the floor before Ellie was pulling you back in by the nape of your neck, her other hand guiding your hips back over her leg as she kissed you with a hunger that may as well have devoured you. You hissed when her teeth sunk into your lip, her tongue soothing over it before licking into your mouth. 

Your breath caught on a broken moan when she pressed her thumb into the dips of your hips, pressing you back to grind against her leg. The feeling of your bare pussy sliding against her thigh made you lightheaded, the dizzying pressure sending sparks through your stomach. Ellie's fingers still on the back of your head twisted in your hair, giving it an experimental tug; you felt her smile against your lips when you whined. You were pliable under her hands, your hips stuttering against her leg. 

Ellie pulled away, pulling you back by your hair just far enough away for her to look at you; her eyes raked over your body with a hunger that set you nerves on fire, looking ready to devour you. 

“God, look at you,” she breathed, raising her leg just slightly, the added pressure making your heart stop. Releasing your hair, her hand ran down your side, sliding across your chest. You moaned when her thumb grazed over your nipple, your hips stuttering; her other hand on your hip tightened, fingers digging into the bone. “So fucking wet for me and I've hardly even touched you.” 

“Shit,” you cursed when Ellie bucked her hips, her thigh grinding into you. You tried to glare down at her even though you knew your own traitorous eyes betrayed your growing desperation. Her cocky smile didn’t quite land, its impact softened by the way she watched your lips in fascination, her pupils blown - you couldn’t see the green anymore. Your voice wasn’t nearly as hard as you wanted it to be, your want softening the words: “Fuck off, Els, don’t be a dick.” 

“Am I being a dick?” she asked in mock offense, pouting up at you. “Good things come and all that shit, right?” Ever as she was teasing you, Ellie’s hand crept down your stomach, fingers warm against your hungry skin. She lowered her leg just enough to slide her hand between your thighs. You gasped, feeling lightning in your veins when those calloused fingers slid over your clit, already wet with want. Her eyes darkened, her lips parting. She slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into her, and said, “Fuck, look at you. God, I finally get to see you like this….” 

You struggled to speak past the breathy moans beginning to drip from your lips: “Finally? How - ah - fuck - how long - how long have you…?” You couldn’t think of a way to finish that sentence, your thoughts clouding over when Ellie dipped just the tips of her fingers briefly inside you, gathering your wetness. 

“Like you said,” she murmured, finally pushing two fingers slowly inside you; even as she kept talking, she watched your face carefully, searching for any sign of discomfort, “a long fucking time.” 

Your jaw went slack when she curled her fingers, gasping when she found that spot that made you see stars. She paused, as though giving you a moment to adjust, unaware of just how many times you had done this with your own fingers. 

“Shit, Ellie,” you moaned, canting your hips down into her hand. She adjusted her arm, positioning herself so that the heel of her hand pressed to your clit, pulling another breathy moan from your lips. Her other hand was still on your hip; she pushed you back, guiding you to grind on her fingers. “Ah - fuck.” 

She watched you carefully, fascinated by the way your eyes rolled back in your head, your brow furrowed; you felt her own wetness on your thigh again. Her voice was so fucking breathy when she said, “How long have you wanted this, baby?” She hummed; releasing your hip, she ran her hand up your side to knead at your tit, her fingers so careful against you. You groaned low in your throat when she flicked her thumb over your nipple. “How many times have you come thinking of me? Did you imagine my fingers inside you, angel? Did you moan my name?” 

You couldn’t even think of a snarky response; you were too distracted by the way her fingers curled inside you as you fucked yourself against her. Her rough palm slid deliciously against your clit, grinding into her with a growing desperation that made your thighs shake. Your shoulders ached from holding yourself over her but it was only an afterthought as you felt a tight warmth building in your stomach. You leaned down just enough to kiss her, moaning into her mouth when words failed you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Ellie repeated, groaning when your hips stuttered. You were lightheaded, fucking yourself desperately on her fingers, grinding down against her palm and chasing that intoxicating warmth spreading inside. “So fucking pretty for me.” 

She kissed you as you came, licking into your mouth and tasting herself on your tongue. You pressed your clit down into the heel of her hand, riding it out, feeling the way that warmth spread down to your fingers. Ellie broke away from the kiss to trail her lips down your neck, leaving wet kisses along your skin and saving every broken moan that was gasped right into her ear. 

Ellie didn’t move as you came down, letting you ride out your high, tracing gentle circles down your side. You slumped against her, your arms giving out; your weight landing on her forced all the air from her lungs. She only laughed breathlessly. 

It was several long moments before you were able to move again. Ellie ran her fingers through your hair as you gasped into her neck; she hummed absently and you could feel the vibration against your lips. 

When you were able to, you slowly lifted yourself off of her, wincing slightly at the sudden emptiness. With gentle hands, she guided you back down to lay beside her; you curled up against her without waiting for her invitation, resting a hand on her bare chest so you could feel the steady pounding of her heart. 

Ellie didn’t wait for invitation either before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer; she was blissfully warm against the suddenly cold air. Something tugged pleasantly at your chest at the realization that you would no longer have to monitor your own movements so carefully - you could touch her, you realized, any time you wanted now. God, how were you going to ever stop now? 

Without anything else to say, you sighed against her skin: “A long fucking time.” 

Ellie hummed, giggling at your delayed answer. The fairy lights on her walls cast the room in a warm glow; with the hazy lights around you, you would almost believe this was a dream if Ellie wasn’t so solid and warm beneath your fingers. You traced the freckles across her chest, connecting constellations you had seen her chart before. 

Her voice was so quiet in the small room when she asked, “What do we do now?” 

You hummed, feeling sleep winning the war inside you. “We can figure that out tomorrow,” you said, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. Tilting your head, you leaned up just enough to kiss her, warm and deep and breathless, before moving away to meet her eyes. “Just don’t fucking run off again, okay?” 

[xxxdreamscapexxx]

Sweet trouble

Pairing: Step!Mother Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Word count: 12.7k

Summary: Being left home alone is the perfect time to catch up on all your secret activities. What you don't expect is that your Step Mother has secrets of her own, or that you'll stumble on them accidentally. What will happen when she finds out you've been going through her things?

Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, Stepcest?, masturbation, edging, teasing, oral, fingering, finger sucking, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader

Masterlist with all my works.

When you woke up this morning, you never, in your wildest dreams imagined that one of your most secret, most shameful desires will come true. It was something you had only seen in fanfiction and maybe twisted porn, but never believed real people did, or that it could in fact, happen to you. Truthfully, if someone had told you such a thing will happen, you would have scoffed and called them crazy.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. Your morning started the way it often did during the summer. You got up and walked down the stairs, to find Wanda sipping her coffee and scrolling through her phone. As usual, she put it away as soon as she saw you and she greeted you warmly.

Wanda Maximoff was your stepmother. She had married your father a little over 4 years ago, but you had known her for almost 5 and despite having a rocky start with the woman, you actually had a great relationship with her. She was warm and sweet and she never treated you like a child, nor did she try to “replace” your actual mother, who did her best to stay in your life. In fact, Wanda treated you with respect and kindness and you soon saw her as a friend.

Well… That wasn’t entirely true. You started seeing her as a friend at first, but over the years that connection shifted. She talked to you about the things your parents never wanted to, she always listened without prejudice or judgement and gave amazing advice. She also cared about your interests and she supported all your hobbies and little projects and she even often helped you.

Wanda was there when you decided to make a replica of the “T.A.R.D.I.S” from “Doctor Who” and spent an entire weekend helping you build it, so it would end up perfect, she watched every scary movie you asked for, because you could never bring yourself to do it on your own, and even though you were both scared, she always pretended not to be. For your sake. And then, when you were too scared to sleep alone, she pretended to fall asleep on the couch and let you snuggle into her, even if her back hurt the next day. She encouraged your writing, she read every book you ranted about… She supported you when you came out. For all those things and so much more, you gave Wanda your love.

Unfortunately for you, those were also the reasons why at some point, you stopped seeing Wanda as a friend and started seeing her as the woman of your dreams. Yes, cheesy. But true. And that idea gnawed at you ever since you stopped trying to lie to yourself.

The truth is, you spent way more time with Wanda than your father ever did. He was good, a good man and a good father, but his work often had him travelling for long. When you were young, he often took the whole family with him. Had private tutors for you, made sure you were educated by the best and brightest and the love of learning connected you together. But as you grew older, that life drove your mother away. To make the matters worse, he realized you needed stability just around the same time he met Wanda and soon, you were left in the big house, surrounded by housekeeping and your new stepmother, while he was away for months at a time. But at least he let you attend high school, instead of hiring more tutors, so you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You often wondered why Wanda chose to be with him when you, his daughter, knew more about her, spent more time with her and, you were sure, loved her far more than he did. But you never dared to ask and she never spoke of that, preferring to focus on you instead and you reciprocated that interest. You watched her favourite sitcoms with her, spent afternoons making pottery with her, which resulted in way too many crooked ceramic mugs in your home that you never knew what to do with, but loved too much to throw away. You taught her calligraphy, after you showed her your first story and she declared that you have the “prettiest handwriting” and asked you to teach her. In turn, she gave you cooking lessons, because her food was by far, the best thing you had tasted, until it became a tradition that you made dinner together.

God, you shared so much of your life, so much of yourself with the woman, you gave so much of yourself to her, that it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise that you ended up falling for her. And her way with you didn’t help matters either. And yes, it wasn’t something outrageous. It was little things, like the way she’d hold you, pulling you closer into her side during movie nights, which by the way were almost every night. It was the way she sat with you on the couch in the study, reading her book while you did homework, mindlessly playing with your hair, it was her protective on the small of your back, when you felt surrounded by people, the way she always knew when you needed her to step in and save you from strangers, or the soft way she held your hand when you went somewhere together…

It was never one thing. It was a million little things and each one had you falling more and more deeply in love with her, until you couldn’t deny it anymore. You realized it during your junior year, when all your friends wouldn’t shut up about boys and their crushes and all you would think about was Wanda. What plans you had with her, what you’d watch with her, what meal you’ll be making together, where you’d go over the weekend… It was all Wanda. Even in your dreams. And to make matters worse, those dreams soon manifested into your waking hours, flooding your thoughts with nothing but her.

Now, the beginning of summer after senior year, when you had decided to take a gap year before college and focus on yourself, your writing, perhaps even travelling, you were fully aware that you wanted none of those things without her. You hadn’t booked a single destination, because you hadn’t yet the courage to ask if she’d join you. You had stopped showing her your stories, because they were all about her and despite your best efforts had turned highly suggestive and then straight up erotic, up to the point that they no longer soothed you, when you thought of Wanda, but rather left you even more turned on and needy.

The neediness, unfortunately for you, had been another new development. No matter how many cold showers you took, how many times you masturbated to thoughts of her, the ache between your legs never quite went away. Actually, every time you’d see her, every night when she cuddled you and played you a movie, every evening when you helped her make dinner, each hot afternoon spent at the pool with her, left you a horny mess.

Today, after you helped Wanda make breakfast, that the two of you shared, she asked you if you’d like to go out with her. She had some errands to do and she promised to make it fun, despite the tediousness, offering you lunch at your favourite restaurant, or perhaps a small shopping trip in the afternoon, but you declined, opting to stay home instead.

To be fair, you wanted to go with her, you wanted to spend every second you could with her, but being left home alone meant that you could perhaps catch up on your writing without her seeing you and asking to read your story, or finally take care of the ache between your legs that lately never went away, but you were never alone for… Maybe even do it, the way you so often longed for, but never could… God, you were a twisted girl. But you couldn’t help it. You just wanted her so much.

Wanda seemed a little bit surprised and frankly disappointed by your refusal, but she took a deep breath and she wished you a nice day, before she took her purse and her car keys, phone tucked in the back pocket of her tightly fitted jeans and she left, putting on her stylish sunglass, before opening the front door and disappearing from your view.

As soon as she was gone, you rushed to the study, reaching out behind a cluster of old, dusty books and taking out the Paperblanks hardcover journal dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe that she got you as a gift. It was beautiful and stylish and filled with all the stories you wrote about her.

As soon as the notebook fell open, you saw the last page you had written on and your fingers traced the last paragraph, reading through it. “You don’t hesitate when your fingers lace with my hair, your grip firm as you hold me in place and you study my face. My mouth open, my tongue sticking out as it awaits your dripping pussy...” Yes, you remember that and your legs instantly cross over each-other at the wave of arousal, but you keep it at bay.

For the next few hours all you do is write. Your fantasies running rampant and free and filling the pages. It was almost a trans-like state, your hand moving almost on its own while the images in your head played out in front of your eyes. It felt freeing to be able to “share” your thoughts somehow, even if no one ever saw them and you only reluctantly stopped, when your stomach growled for food and your hand was cramping.

You made your way to the kitchen, groaning, your writing session had left you wet and so needy, that despite your instincts and Wanda’s voice in your head, telling you to eat something heathy and filling, you pulled out a fruit yogurt with mango and maracuja and ate it, leaning on the counter, wanting to stretch your legs a little.

Finished with your “meal”, you headed upstairs, making your way to the bedrooms. Yours was at the end of the hall and you headed for it, but stopped mid-way, when you saw Wanda’s bedroom door was slightly ajar and you stopped right in front of it, debating with yourself. You knew you shouldn’t go in, that it was an invasion of her privacy, but your heart was so full of longing for her that you eventually reasoned, that you’ll only look around… Just get her scent in your nostrils and leave.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes started to search the unfamiliar space. It’s not that you’ve never been here, but the room was so alien to you, one you’d spent the least time in, that it almost didn’t feel right. You certainly never dared be so inquisitive, when Wanda was there with you.

Your eyes scanned every object, every photo, most of which were of you and Wanda and you allowed yourself to breathe in the aroma of everything Wanda. It smelled like clean sheets and her favourite vanilla and Himalayan magnolia air freshener, like her perfume and just something uniquely her. God, you’d roll around in it if you could.

Everything seemed so perfectly in order, her bed made and without a single crinkle in it, the room so pristine and clean. It was lovely, and your heart skipped a beat at the thought that you wished you could wake up here, next to her each morning.

Walking further into the room, your curiosity almost entirely satisfied now, you ran your fingers over the objects she had on display. Souvenirs from trips the two of you had went to, her certificate for completing a “beginners” course in Latin dances, that she only went to for you and that you had stopped attending, because you hated how every man in the studio drooled over her, the ceramic figurine of a cute bear that you made her one time, a bowl of sea shells that the two of you had collected last summer at the beach…

You were just about ready to leave, when the sight of a drawer, half-open and because of that seeming out of place, caught your attention. Everything was so perfectly in order in this room, that it looked so strange to see it left like this and you went to it thoughtlessly, pulling it open to inspect its content, only to gasp in surprise at what you found there.

It was full of toys. Sex toys, to be exact and you couldn’t help but stumble backwards a little at seeing just how many there were. Dildos in all colours, shapes and sizes and made from different materials were organized, each in its individual place. Handcuffs, soft Velcro cuffs and steal, regular ones easily distinguished. Ropes, blindfolds, some butt plugs, vibrators, lube, a couple of harnesses and even other things that you couldn’t name or guess the intended use of, could be seen laid out and you studied them with deep curiosity.

Did Wanda use all these? Did she lay here, in her big, soft bed and play with herself at night? What did she think about? Who did she picture in her fantasies, when she buried one of these toys inside herself? Did she do it slowly, or did she like it rough? How did it feel to be stretched out and full?

As your mind was flooded with questions, you mindlessly got closer, your hand reaching into the drawer and your fingertips grazing a rather large, realistic looking dildo. You’d never actually seen toys in real life, so the sensation was both strange and exhilarating. Sure, you were 19 now and could buy them if you wanted to, but the thought just never appealed to you.

You just couldn’t picture it. You’d never had anything other than two of your fingers inside yourself and it had already felt too much. You couldn’t even imagine what something so big would feel like or would do to you. Did Wanda enjoy the feeling of them? Did she ever wear her harness and bury one of these inside someone or did she like to be on the receiving end? You certainly liked to imagine yourself on the receiving end of one of her toys, especially after you learned of her past with women. She had shared those details when you came out to her, hoping to soothe you and help you feel like you’re not alone, but you never imagined that you’ll one day walk into your stepmother’s bedroom and find so many toys, or that you’ll find yourself wishing you could see her play with them… God, the one you reached for looked so big, so thick in your hand. That could never fit inside you.

Yet the thought of Wanda stepping into her harness and picking out a dildo from her collection, while you waited for her in the bed, spread out and so needy for her, had your legs squeezing together in search for relief. Would she tie you down? Would she be sweet and soft? Would she use her fingers and her mouth? What would it feel like to have your arms wrapped around her, to be able to kiss her, as she had her way with you?

Fuck, you needed relief. And you needed it now. And you knew you should just go to your room and do what you always did, but this time you couldn’t. You couldn’t just close your eyes and picture Wanda, when here, in her room, all your senses were surrounded by her.

You hesitated for a moment, considering the danger, but it was still early and all the staff had the next few weeks off, so you knew you’ll be all alone. You could just… Lie down. Not even under the covers, just on top of her sheets and maybe pull your panties to the side. They were all wet already. You’ll just pull your dress up and take care of that ache and then you’ll fix Wanda’s bed and leave.

You knew it was a bad idea, but in your brain, clouded by lust, you couldn’t help yourself and gave in. So you did exactly as you planned, the skirts of your dress bunched up around your waist, your panties pulled to the side, while your fingers circled your clit. You lay on your stomach, you face buried in Wanda’s pillow and inhaling her scent as your mind filled with images of her. It was wonderful. God, it was heavenly. But it wasn’t enough. Before you knew it, you had made yourself orgasm twice already, but the desperate feeling never went away. You needed more.

You slowly turned, laying on your back, your hand finding its way back to your clit, but it was only a measure to keep you calm while you thought. What could you do? And almost like fate, your face turned to the open drawer full of toys and an idea sparked inside you. You could… No, that was an extremely bad idea. It was wrong… But maybe, it could help?

Getting up, telling yourself you’ll only take a quick look, you made your way back to the drawer and looked inside. You had no idea how to choose, so you trusted your instincts, picking a fairly small, pink dildo that seemed to look cute and entirely forgetting what a terrible idea this was, you made your way back to Wanda’s bed with giddiness, lying on your back and looking the toy over for a moment, before reaching down.

You rubbed the toy’s head against your opening, getting it slick with your juices and teasing your clit a little, before you started to slowly push it inside. The stretch felt unfamiliar, the toy, despite being small, still being larger than your fingers and you took your time to let it sink in deeper, allowing your pussy some time to adjust to it.

In just a few minutes, you had it fully inside you, the base pressing against your opening and oh, it was perfect. It was exactly what you needed and you quickly reached down with your free hand, finding your clit and adding the extra stimulation. Thoughts of Wanda quickly made their way into your head and you started to imagine the older woman doing exactly what you did to yourself, her hands working you perfectly, while her velvety voice wrapped around you and made you lose yourself entirely.

Taking your time to let it unfold, your body buzzing with excitement and pleasure, your muscles tightening, you knew you were about to have one of the best orgasms of your life, when suddenly, you heard the front door open and shortly after shut itself.

Fuck!

Sitting up, you heard Wanda’s keys land in the bowl with yours and your nervous anxiety hit a new high, when she called out your name form the living room.

Fuck!

She’d start looking for you soon, if you didn’t act quickly! God, what do you do? You needed to get out of there!

Your eyes roamed around the room nervously, toy still buried inside you and you knew you couldn’t put it back like that, covered in your slick! She’ll see it eventually and then she’ll know what you did. In the rush of the moment, you did the only thing you thought would be smart. You put your panties back where they belonged, seeing the imprint of the dildo against them and you got out of her bed. You tried to smoothen it as much as you could, but you herd her voice call out your name again, this time from the kitchen and you knew she’ll come up the stairs next. In a rush, you just closed her drawer and practically ran out, leaving the door slightly ajar as it was and you hesitated if you should go to your room, but before you could make your way there, you heard Wanda’s steps as she ascended the stairs and you knew there will be no time.

Closing your eyes for a moment, wiping your sweaty palms on your dress and feeling the fullness as you tried to calm your nerves, you committed to the decision you knew you had to make and despite every instinct of yours, you rushed towards her, meeting her just as she was at the top of the stairs.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are! I was calling you.” She smiled as she saw you, reaching out to give you a hug.

“Yeah, I heard you, I was just coming to meet you.” You manage to say, forcing a smile.

“Are you all right, honey?” The older woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “You look a little flushed.” She said with concern, one of her hands reaching out to feel your forehead. “And you feel warm too.” She determined, her eyes scanning you.

“Yeah, I’m all good.” You tried to reassure her, still practically blocking the older woman’s path.

“You sure?” Wanda asked once more, concern evident in her eyes and you tried to calm your nerves.

“I promise.” You tried to say with conviction and hoping your knees wouldn’t buckle.

“Ok, honey, but if you feel unwell, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course.” You smiled warmly and, seeing that the woman seemed to be going to her room, the place where you had just been, you tried to dissuade her. “Hey, I was wondering, could we have pasta for dinner today? The one with the special sauce you make?”

“Sure, honey.” Wanda beamed, her hand stroking your cheek softly before she moved past you. “Let me go get changed and we’ll go make it together.” She suggested.

Not wanting to seem weird, you let the woman pass and after watching her enter her bedroom, you actually relaxed a little, thinking that you could use this time to go back to your own room and pull out the dildo still nestled inside you, when her voice forced you to stiffen once more.

“Hey, honey, why don’t you go and take out the vegetables from the fridge and start washing them? I’ll be right down.” Wanda called out, interrupting your train of thought and destroying any chance you had of going through with disposing of the cursed toy.

“Ok.” You called out, facing the stairs defeatedly.

In your guilt over what you did, you felt like you couldn’t risk saying “no” and going to your room instead, not wanting to rouse Wanda’s suspicion. So, a little wobbly on your legs and feeling even more aroused than when you first went in her bedroom, you walked down the stairs, doing exactly as she asked, planning how to excuse yourself later and pull the damned thing out of you.

Wanda walked into her bedroom and started to unbutton her shirt, asking you to start dinner as she went, but suddenly stopped, her eyes narrowing. It wasn’t that there was something particularly wrong, it’s just that something felt out of place and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Shrugging, she tossed her shirt on an empty chair and started to take off her jeans next, leaving herself in just her underwear and going to the closet to pick out more comfy clothes. She put on a pair of black sweats and took out a dark red top that she knew you loved and put it over her head, turning to leave, when her eyes narrowed again.

Her bed was all wrinkled and the covers were looking lumpy and it bothered her somehow. Did she leave it like this today? She leaned down and started to fix it, her hands smoothing the covers and tucking them in as she always did, when her palm ran over a damp spot. Now this really caught her attention and she inspected it more closely.

It looked like a small wet spot, more visible now that she knew to look for it and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Had you been here? But why would you be on her bed? That didn’t make sense, until a realization came over her, like pieces of a puzzle coming together. Your flushed face, the way you tried to block her path, how out of breath you seemed and this… The state of her bed… She suddenly straightened, rushing to her drawer.

As soon as she opened it, she knew what you had done. She knew her collection very well, knew exactly what she owned and where it was, so the absent pink dildo was like a glaring hole in the middle of her drawer. But why hadn’t you put it back? Had she gotten home and interrupted you? That seemed more and more likely and at the thought, she could only sigh.

Wanda was a lot of things, but stupid just wasn’t one of them. She realized you had a crush on her somewhere around the end of your junior year and at first the thought scared her. Sure, she had noticed you turning into a beautiful young woman, she wasn’t blind, and you had already shared with her that you were gay, but she never imagined you’d develop feelings towards her. Naturally, she thought it was simple curiosity. You were growing, it was normal. It would probably go away on its own. You were surrounded by girls your own age, with young bodies and unburdened by life, so she believed you’d soon move on.

But as time passed those lingering looks you gave her started to be accompanied by something else. A kind of longing in your eyes, a kind of shy almost hope that she couldn’t quite place. Until eventually she did. Wanda knew you better than anyone in the world, she knew what made you tick and as she watched your gaze follow her, while she sipped wine, your eyes fixed on her lips and your legs squeezing together, she realized that your relationship with her had changed. You saw her differently.

That thought scared Wanda more than she ever expected and she excused herself quickly, practically running to her bedroom and burying her face in her pillow and her first thoughts were for you. She felt terrible, imagining how scared you must be, how sad and disheartened to be infatuated with your father’s wife. She kept thinking about how alone you must feel, not being able to tell anyone. How heart wrenching it must be to spend every day with her and know she was with another.

In her eyes you were her girl and she held so much love for you that the knowledge that she caused such feelings inside you, that she caused you so much pain, was devastating to her. After realizing what really bothered you, she spent so many sleepless nights, thinking of you. And in her love, she thought the best thing for you would be to pull away from you.

Yes, she didn’t love your father anymore… If ever. He was hardly ever home, hardly ever spending any time with her, always promising to retire, but never doing so… The only reason she stayed all this time was always you. She married him because she wanted a family, never expecting that she’ll find that in you. And when she had… Well… That made her choice very easy. But you were such a young girl. An old soul, admittedly, but still so young. She couldn’t let you spend those sweet years pining over your stepmother. So pull away she did.

Little did she know how devasted you’d be, feeling her absence as a hole in your heart and crying so many nights, when you thought that she no longer wanted your presence. She watched your heartbreak from afar, hating herself for it, yet thinking it would be for the best, until one night, when she heard you speak to one of your friends on the phone.

Your broken voice almost made her cry then and there and she vowed to never do that to you again. So she made sure that things went back to normal, to the routine the two of you had, but she never quite stopped noticing how the love in you bloomed.

The summer vacation after your junior year she spent entirely with you, having a grand time going to the beach, sunbathing, while you read books and drank cocktails together. Yours virgin, of course. But she’d let you have a sip from hers every once in a while, to indulge your curiosity. She’d rather let you drink with her and make sure you’re safe.

Then came your 18th birthday and the party you hosted at the house, you and your friends having fun around the pool and she thought that with all these people around you, you’d lose interest, but you never did. After everyone was gone, all you wanted was to cuddle up to her on the couch and watch your favourite movie with her. You always preferred her to anyone else, chose to stay home and try new recipes, rather than go out and she thought that perhaps this thing you felt for her was serious.

And once that knowledge settled inside her, it no longer bothered her. And with acceptance came something else. Something she never thought she had in her. A kind of curiosity of her own.

Obviously, she was flattered to know you had such feelings for her. You were a young, sweet thing, your life was just starting and she… How could she take advantage of you?

Then again, you didn’t make it easy for her. The way young girls did, you flirted boldly, openly and in gestures of sudden bravery. You flaunted yourself to her whenever you got the chance. Wearing skimpy bathing suits and even asking her to fix the strings for you, asking her to go shopping with you and dragging her into lingerie stores, showing her different sets and asking her opinion, wearing short dresses and tight shorts whenever she was around, which happened to be all the time… Asking her to watch scary movies with you in your room, cuddling into her in nothing but your panties and a t-shirt and then asking her to stay when you were too scared to stay alone.

Ugh, you were a tease. She’d feel you wiggle unnecessarily, so you’d “settle” and you’d blush furiously anytime she so much as looked at you. She’d wake up with your back pressed against her front, your ass pressed up against her as you slept happily, and every time you’d pull one of those stunts, she’d feel you chip away at her resolve.

You were so soft, so sweet, such a delicate thing, your skin smooth and flawless under her fingertips. Whenever you’d ask her to stay with you, falling asleep on her shoulder, she couldn’t help but stroke the exposed skin of your bare arms, the length of your thighs, just to feel you. It was a small action, was it not? Done out of curiosity. And it soothed her to be able to get this small thing for herself, since she had promised herself not to take you entirely.

Your last year of high school passed like that, with you parading yourself and eventually Wanda broke. She told herself she’d never make a move on you. It was wrong, but she needed an outlet for her frustration. That’s how she first spent a night thinking of you while she touched herself. Not that thoughts of you hadn’t crossed her mind before, but she always pushed them away. But when she no longer could, that one action broke the dam.

The images of you flooded her mind constantly and she found herself seeking relief in the privacy of her bedroom, imagining she had you to play with. She thought of all the gloriously depraved things she could do to you, the things she could teach you and all the ways she could corrupt you. It would be so sweet.

It got worse as your feelings progressed and she’d often wake to the sounds of your moans in the middle of the night. The first time such a thing happened she rushed to your room, thinking maybe you’re in pain, only to see you sprawled on your bed, legs spread wide and your hand moving furiously in your panties. You thought you were being quiet, that you were being subtle, but honestly, she could sometimes make out the way you called her name as you made yourself cum.

Now, looking in her drawer of toys and realizing what you’d done, she tried to let it go, but she just couldn’t. You went behind her back, sneaked into her bedroom, snooped through her things, used her toys and masturbated on her bed. As much as she was impressed by your boldness and surprised to find that your desire for her went that far, she was furious. You didn’t even have the decency to hide it well! Why didn’t you just wash the toy and put it back? Did you still have it? Ugh, she was angry!

She knew you probably didn’t mean for it to go this far, but she just couldn’t help it. How was she meant to stay away from you, to keep her resolve and refrain from marching down and fucking you senseless, when you did such things? She had to teach you a lesson.

Her fingers clenching over the edge of the drawer, knuckles turning white, Wanda was ready to slam it shut and storm down the stairs, when her eyes landed on a pink remote control. It was for the dildo you had used and she was surprised you hadn’t taken that too, before she realized you probably had no idea it had a vibrating function. Or maybe you hadn’t gotten that far. Who knows? Either way, an idea sparked into her head and she decided to test a theory and if she was right, tonight she’ll teach you a lesson and pay you back for every time you’d teased her, every time you paraded yourself in front of her, every time you tempted her and made her crave you.

In the back of her head, she knew what this decision meant. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. If she went through with it, she’d go all the way. Closing her eyes and breathing in, she tried to think clearly, but she had reached the end of her restraint, the end of her self-control. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t want this anymore. She had to have you.

Taking the small remote control, she put it in the pocket of her sweats and she walked down the stairs. She found you prepping the vegetables, just as she asked, your cheeks still flushed, but you tried to act as normal as possible. With a smile, Wanda did the same, starting to make the dough for the homemade pasta and starting up a light conversation with you.

“So, honey, what did you do today?” She asked sweetly.

“Oh you know, just normal things…” You trailed off as your legs squeezed together.

“Yeah? Did you finish the new book I told you about?”

“No, not yet. But almost. I’m so excited to see what happens.” You tried to feign interest, but Wanda knew you. You hadn’t read a page. “What about you, did you have a nice day?”

“Nice isn’t how I’d describe it. But I’m glad to be home.” She responded shortly. “You know, sweetie, why don’t you get the sauce started and leave it on the stove, I’ll watch it while I make the dough and you can sit down. You still look a little flushed.” She suggested and you sighed with relief at her offer, doing as she asked, finishing as quickly as possible and making your way to a chair in the kitchen, sitting down and watching her cook, the way you have so many times before.

Except, as soon as you sat, you realized it was a mistake. The dildo, still nicely nestled inside you, was pressed against the surface of the chair and pushed as deeply as it could go, causing you to let out a small whimper at the feeling of being so full and even with her back to you, Wanda knew that her suspicion was right.

“What was that, dear?” She turned to look at you for a moment, your legs squeezing together so tightly your muscles shook.

“N-nothing…” You stuttered out, a hand gripping the edge of the table.

My, you were so responsive. You must have been close, if you were this worked up. How delightful. Wanda was going to have so much fun with you.

Unaware of how closely you were being watched, or of the wicked plan your stepmother had formulated for you, you started to gently rock on the chair, the movement bringing brief relief to the aching between your legs. But Wanda wasn’t going to let you just fuck yourself right in front of her. If anyone was going to fuck you tonight, it was going to be her.

Reaching into her pocket, she felt around for the buttons of the remote control and she turned it on and let it start at the lowest setting. Your reaction was instantaneous. You gasped, trying to do it quietly and softly, but she heard you none the less.

Feeling the dildo start to vibrate had you stiffen on the chair. God, did your slow grinding press the start button on the device? It was possible. Now you felt the gentle hum of the lowest setting and it drove you crazy. Perhaps with some concentration you could ignore feeling the toy inside you, but you couldn’t contain yourself like this. It was nestled at the deepest parts of you and vibrating against an especially sensitive spot and it had you shaking.

“Wanda, I think I’m going to lie down.” You suddenly said, swallowing hard and preparing yourself to stand.

“Oh, sweetheart!” She gasped when she turned to you. You looked a mess and it was absolutely breath-taking. She always wanted to see you like this. Now that she was so close, she wasn’t going to let you slip away so quickly. “What’s wrong? You seem even more flushed. And your forehead is so hot, baby, maybe you should lie down on the couch, so I can take care of you.” She suggested with concern. “I’ll bring you a cool cloth for your forehead and a glass of water.” She suggested, offering you her hand and guiding you to the couch.

“No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just lie down upstairs for a bit.” You tried to protest, following her lead on instinct, despite your wish to escape to your room, but she was having none of it.

“But, sweetie, you can barely walk.” She argued, guiding you to the couch. “Look at that, you’re shaking. Lie down here for me, honey. I’ll take care of you.” She suggested, helping you lie down.

She went to grab you a glass of water, just as she promised and, on her way back, she watched you squirm and try to contain the sensations going through your body. When she made you drink at least some of the water, she left the glass on the table and she went to get you a cool cloth for your forehead, but not before sticking her hand in her pocket and increasing the speed of the vibrator.

A loud moan graced her ears just as she did it and she could hardly contain her smirk as she walked back to you.

“Now, honey, you stay here and rest and I’ll go check on dinner and I’ll be right back, ok?” She explained with a soft voice and she stroked your cheek affectionately, basking in the state you were in.

Your cheeks were burning with a mixture of arousal and shyness, your whole body squirming with need, even your hips bucking, when you thought Wanda wasn’t looking, loving the stimulation, yet needing so much more. Fuck, she could play with you like this for hours. If she had it her way, she’d strip you down first, of course, but there was plenty of time for that later. She’d watch you writhe and make you beg to be allowed to cum, push you to admit what you did and then tease you some more as punishment for it. And once you’ve surrendered, she’d make you cum over and over again, until you can’t take anymore. She’ll take your shaking little body upstairs and help you get cleaned up, so she can cuddle you to sleep. But she was getting ahead of herself.

She went to check on the pasta and the sauce you were making, stirring the pots and making sure that it wouldn’t get burned. She often looked at you at the corner of her eye, watching you writhe and, deciding to take pity on you, she clicked the off button on the remote control in her pocket, seeing you instantly settle in both relief and frustration. It was obvious you wanted more, that you needed that orgasm badly, but you didn’t want to get caught and Wanda smirked to herself. She’ll make you beg for an orgasm soon enough.

In the next minutes she let you rest, while she set up the table and finished dinner, not wanting to overwhelm you too much too early. She came over to you carefully, checking to see if you managed to put yourself together and you indeed looked much better. The frustration from the teasing and edging was obvious, but other than that you were holding up quite well and she smiled.

“Hey, honey, how are you feeling?” She asked softly. “Do you think you can come to the dinner table, so we can eat, or should I bring your food here?” She suggested, smiling.

“I’ll come to the table.” You agreed, removing the damp cloth from your forehead and taking her hands, so you could stand.

“Ok, baby, wash your hands and let’s eat.” She smiled softly at you.

Once you settled, poorly hiding a whimper when the dildo was once again pressed into your depths and against your most sensitive spots, you struggled to find topics for a conversation, but Wanda distracted you, telling you about her day and keeping your mind occupied while you ate. It was still hard to keep your urge to grind down on the toy sometimes, especially when Wanda would look at you with those pretty green eyes and swirl the wine in her glass, before sipping it. How could she be so sensual without even trying?

“Wanda, I think I’ll head upstairs. I feel tired.” You tried to excuse yourself after the meal was finished.

“Oh, really?” She said with disappointment in her voice. “You sure? I was thinking we could watch a movie together.” She suggests, pouting at you cutely and melting your heart.

“I don’t know…” You hesitated, wanting to stay, but feeling your walls contract around the dildo inside you and almost making your legs buckle.

“Maybe for a bit?” She offered with hope in her eyes. “You lie down and pick anything you want to watch and I’ll make us some popcorn. If you’re still not feeling well, I’ll help you upstairs.”

You tried to refuse her, you really did, but the truth was, that you could never say “no” to Wanda Maximoff. She was your greatest weakness and you knew you’d do anything she asks, no matter what, so you settled onto the couch, searching through the movie options and finding one that looked promising, while she brought over the big bowl of popcorn she made, sitting down next to you and pulling you into her side, just as she always did, kissing the top of your head affectionately.

You played the movie, trying to distract yourself and reminding yourself that all you had to do is get through the movie with her and then you’ll go to your room and have all the orgasms you wanted. It was just a couple of hours with Wanda.

But you’d barely gotten through the intro, when the vibrator came to life with a sudden buzz and you had to refrain from grinding against the couch at how good it felt. But that’s all the restraint you could show and you quickly realized Wanda was looking at you with concern.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Is everything all right?”

You barely nodded, pretending to watch, when all you could do was do your best to stay still in Wanda’s hold. God, how did this thing turn on again? How do you stop it, before you have an orgasm, right there, sitting next to the woman you were desperately in love with? Worse! What if she hears the vibration? Could she hear it right now?

It was driving you crazy and holding back became increasingly difficult as time passed, your breathing going more erratic and just when you thought that it will happen, regardless if you wanted to or not, the vibrations suddenly stopped.

“Did you say something, honey?” Wanda turned to you once more, making you realize that you had whined pretty loudly.

“N-no.” You stutter out, shaking your head and she barely contains the smirk forming on her face, before it gives away just how much she’s enjoying this.

She gives you a break, letting you calm down, before she turns on the vibrator again, startling you and this time you look at her, trying to see if she actually noticed, but Wanda had her attention on the TV.

The damned thing was driving you crazy, but you couldn’t help a thought that crept into your mind. Why does it keep going on and off? Was it you? You were sitting pretty still… And then another, more shocking thought sparkled in your mind. Could Wanda? No, that was absurd. Even if she found out you took it, how would she know you still had it inside you? Would she do this on purpose?

As you turned to her, studying her expression, you couldn’t imagine Wanda doing such a thing. But you had to know for sure. So you waited for that moment when you got close, your body starting to lose some of its control and just as you were about to fall off the edge, the toy stopped, leaving you desperate and needy, extremely frustrated and utterly shocked. Did she just put her hand in her pocket? Did she have the remote there?

You had a million questions almost clouding your brain and you had no idea how to ask, no idea how to approach that subject, scared that if you were wrong, you’ll give yourself away, when Wanda suddenly turned to you.

“I see you finally figured it out.” She said in a low, raspy voice, smiling. She was almost predatory with the way she was looking at you, her soft green eyes now full of intensity. “Don’t you know that taking someone else’s things without permission is wrong?” She asked, raising a brow at you expectantly.

“I… Wanda… It’s not…” You tried to say something coherent, putting a little distance between your bodies, but you were in a state of shock and you couldn’t find the right words to explain.

“Not what it looks like?” She finished the sentence for you, scoffing. “I highly doubt that. Or are you going to deny that you snooped through my bedroom and took something that doesn’t belong to you?” She asked sternly, her eyes fixing you.

“I… ” You tried again, the words never coming out. “I didn’t mean to!” You tried, knowing it was a useless protest.

“Well, what did you mean to do, sweetness, hm? Come on, explain it for me.” She challenged again, raising a brow at you impatiently.

She gave you some time to collect whatever was left of your thoughts and she waited for you to say something coherent, but nothing actually came. There was no excuse, and you knew it well.

“Wanda… Please.” You said quietly, not even sure what you were asking of her, just knowing that you couldn’t stand the way she was looking at you, couldn’t stand how disappointed she was.

“Should I tell you what I think happened, hm?” She asked, her tone having that stern edge again. And before you could answer, she continued. “Or are you going to tell me yourself?” She asked again, holding up the remote control that was previously sitting in her pocket. “Do you need a little incentive?” She asked with a predatory grin, a slender finger hovering over the start button. “Maybe another edge or two would loosen your tongue?” She suggested, almost turning the device on.

“Oh my God, Wanda, please, no! Please! I can’t take anymore!” You begged pitifully and her heart melted a little, knowing you’ve probably never been edged. Even now you had your legs squeezed together, your eyes fixed on the remote she was holding.

To be fair, Wanda never intended to be cruel with you. She only wanted to be kind towards you, but you had pushed her buttons today and it had brought out a side of her she never wanted to show you. And you had never earned such treatment from her either, so she found it hard to contain her emotions, but she took a deep breath and tried to soften her features.

“Please, I’ll never do that again!” You pleaded.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” She said with surprising gentleness, stroking your cheek affectionately. “I’ll make sure of that. But you’ll have to tell me why you did it.” She explained.

“I can’t…” You tried to protest again, voice shaking. How could you explain that you’re in love with her?

“If you can do it, you should be able to talk about it.” Wanda coaxed.

“Please, let me just go upstairs and I’ll clean everything up and…”

“Oh, no, it’s too late for that now.” Wanda interrupted you, knowing where you were trying to go with that thought. “You don’t get to pretend that nothing happened.” She added with a thoughtful expression. “You see… I tried to pretend that I don’t see the way you act, or your little skimpy outfits, or the way you look at me. I tried to pretend that I don’t hear you calling my name at night, when you touch yourself… I tried to stay away and be a good stepmother, a good wife… And then you go and do something like this… Tell me, Y/N, what should I do with you now, hmm?”

Her words, the way she said them… The admission that she knew of your feelings sent you spiralling all over again and you didn’t even know where to begin. What were you meant to say? What did she intend to do? Was she going to tell your father? God, you hoped she wouldn’t. Not even because you were so afraid of him, but because you were so afraid of losing her. You never wanted to lose her.

“It would be so wrong of me to take you.” Wanda continues, talking more to herself now, her words taking a surprising turn. “So wrong… But you make it so hard for me to resist you.” She confessed. “You’ve been driving me crazy.” She said in a low voice, getting closer to where you stood, cupping your chin with her fingers, so she could make sure that you’ll look at her. “Do you know how hard it has been? Watching you offer yourself to me so shamelessly, listening to your moans at night, hearing you call my name and having to stay away from you…” Wanda’s gaze had darkened, making your pussy throb around the vibrator inside you and leaving you even more needy and helpless in her hold. God, you wanted her! “Do you know how many nights I almost didn’t? Do you know how many nights I had to cum to your filthy little sounds, imagining that it was me, making you feel that good?” She asked, searching your face.

You couldn’t believe the words that kept coming out of her mouth, couldn’t believe that she would ever want the same thing you did, that she would even give you the time of day… You wondered if she really meant it. Yet she kept speaking, her words making the ache between your legs almost unbearable and the need to grind against the vibrator nestled inside you harder and harder to resist. You were ready to combust. Fuck, you were ready to let her do absolutely anything and everything to you, just as long as she finally took you.

“Tell me something, honey…” Her words pulled you from your thoughts. “Do you want Mommy to make you feel good? Is that why you pulled this little stunt? Wanted to get my attention?” She asked, watching your eyes go wide at the mention of the title you used, the one you moaned out when you thought of her. “Oh, yes, I know what you like to call me.” She smirked. “It has a very nice ring to it, when you moan it out, touching yourself.”

You could only whine, too scared to admit how badly you needed her, how much you thought of her, how long you’ve waited for this moment, but Wanda didn’t rush. She held your gaze and she searched your eyes, filled with longing, as she let you think this through. If she was going to do this, she would do it right.

“Wanda… Please?” You uttered in almost despair, not knowing how to ask for what you wanted and not daring to hope that you would be lucky enough to get it.

“Please what, sweetheart? What do you want?” She asked softly, her thumb brushing your cheekbone as a way to soothe you. “You’ll have to use your words.” She coaxed, when she saw the way you took her hand, trying to guide it lower, to where you needed her most.

“Mommy…” You whined once more, trying to plead with her, hoping that it will affect her enough to finally make that final move.

Hearing your pleas, hearing that title pass your lips as you looked at her was easily pulling at her heart strings. It was also making her want to ruin you. She couldn’t deny that it did something to her and despite your poor behaviour today, she wanted to be good to you, wanted to care for you, to shower you with the love and affection you deserved, but she couldn’t make that move, not before you asked. She had no intention to be cruel to you, she just wanted to be sure, that you wanted to take that step with her.

“I know you’re feeling shy, dear, but this matters to me.” She said softly. “I need you to know what this means and I need to know that you want it. For that, you’ll have to use your words.” She clarified again, waiting for her words to sink in, but this time she didn’t have to wait long.

“You know I want this. For years I’ve wanted this, wanted you. And I never thought you’d ever see me, the way I see you, but Wanda, if you do… Please, don’t make me wait anymore. Please?”

As soon as she heard that, she leaned forward, capturing your chin with her fingers and looking deep in your eyes, letting the anticipation build between you, before she slowly connected your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and soft, she moves tentatively, bringing her body closer, so she could let her tongue explore you as well, and she’s pleasantly surprised when your hands grip her top, pulling her on top of you.

Just this small contact had your heart fluttering with joy. You never thought this could be your reality. It felt so good to feel her weight against you. You had waited too long for this. You had spent so many endless nights thinking of just this. But Wanda was worth it. To be able to smell her, to taste her for yourself, you would do it all over again.

Her hands were just as gentle as they ran up and down your neck, or buried themselves in your hair and you couldn’t help but moan and whimper as you desperately tried to get more friction and more attention from her.

She was trying to take it slow, letting herself feel the culmination of her longing and just enjoy the way your lips felt, but it just wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel more of you, feel every part of you against her and explore every millimetre of your gorgeous body. This moment between you was long overdue and you both knew it.

Tentatively, she straddled one of your thighs, pressing her knee against your aching core, hoping to provide some much-needed relief to you both, but it only made you needier and more desperate for Wanda to finish what she started.

“Mommy, please.” You whispered softly, breaking the kiss to look up at her with longing and she instantly understood.

As much as you hoped to hold yourself together, as much as you wanted to prolong this moment, scared that if you opened your eyes, she’ll disappear, you couldn’t help the way your pussy throbbed. You had waited hours, teased and edged and filled to the brim with no relief and you couldn’t stand it a second longer. You needed to cum, or you were going to combust.

Wanda met your gaze, her head spinning from how lost she let herself get in your kisses, only to see you in a similar state. The love and adoration in your eyes, all that pent up longing and your pleas were irresistible. She had to indulge you. Then again, she also had to teach you a lesson and it felt right to use this toy. You had started all this by taking it after all.

With a devilish grin, Wanda reached into her pocket, feeling for the remote control and blindly pressing the start button. She felt the toy come to life with a sudden buzz, the vibrations dull against her knee, but from the way you gasped at the sensation, she could tell you were having a much more intense experience and she let it continue its work, while she took you in a deep kiss.

When it became too hard to keep up with her, your mind too distracted by the pleasure, she started to kiss her way down your body, kissing your neck and helping you grind against her, elated to hear the way you moaned and whimpered from every small touch. God, you were gorgeous.

“Look at you.” She admired you with a soft smile. “I’m about to make you fall apart, while fully dressed and without a single touch to your pussy.” She rasped, her hands massaging your breasts through the fabric of your dress and bra.

Her words made your cheeks burn and pulled another whine from you, yet you couldn’t deny how hot it was, or how badly you wanted it. In fact, they only made you grind against her more, trying to pull her in for another kiss, desperate to feel her against you.

She was right too. You were shaking beneath her, your movements turning more erratic, the closer to your edge you would get, and knowing that once you were there, you wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“Mommy, please I want to cum.’’ You pleaded softly. “Please, don’t stop it this time.”

“So pretty when you beg.” Wanda smirked. “You wanna cum, my darling?”

“Yes, want to cum so badly.”

“If you want to cum, you have to promise Mommy some things first.” Wanda explained, removing a strand of hair from your face. “First: You’ll never take Mommy’s toys again without permission.” She stated sternly. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mommy, I promise.” You nodded, body squirming under her intense gaze. God, you were close.

“Second: No more touching yourself. And no more cumming unless you have Mommy’s permission either.” She explained while she trailed soft kisses down your neck. “Understood?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand.” You almost screamed, your hips stuttering against her. “Fuck!”

“Good.’’ She smiled triumphantly. She could probably get you to agree to just about anything right now. “But most importantly, no one else is allowed to see you like this, to touch you like this, to feel you and fuck you and kiss you the way I can. You’re all mine, got it?” She almost growled in your ear, one of her hands tangling in your hair to make you look up at her.

“Yes! God, yes! I don’t want anyone else, Mommy, just you. Please! I just want to be yours. Please? Can I be yours? Can I please cum?” You spoke in a high-pitched tone, your desperation reaching new hights as you heard the possessiveness in her voice.

Wanda could tell you were seconds away from your orgasm and the smile that spread over her face when she reached into her pocket, stopping the vibrator, could only be described as evil. She found it amusing that you would think that she’d let you cum like this, with a toy you had taken from her, instead of getting to feel you for herself.

“Oh my God, no, no no…” You whined, tears prickling your eyes as the sting of denial hit you full force. It was horrible, being so close, yet unable to finish. If Wanda wasn’t right on top of you, you would have reached down, trying to finish it yourself. At the same time the pleasure that burned through you, unyielding and demanding was somehow sweet.

“How does that feel, my sweet girl?” Wanda asked with a calm, self-satisfied tone that had chills run down your spine. Something told you that she would love to do this to you again. “Frustrating, right?”

“Yes.” You whined, as your nails dug into her arms, as the orgasm you had built started to dull down and fade.

“That’s what it felt like, every time you teased me.” She explained with a growl. “That’s what it felt like, to find out you took something of mine without my permission.” She added, as she took down your panties, her eyes zeroing in on the pink vibrator nestled inside you. “I’ll do much worse, if you try something like that again.” She snarled, the threat clear in her voice.

“I wouldn’t Mommy, I promise.” You squirmed under her inquisitive eyes.

“Learned your lesson, huh, my darling?” She smirked, pulling out the dildo as well, discarding it on the floor carelessly, so she can admire your sweet pussy. You were so beautiful like this. Legs spread wide, slick folds on display and your desperate pussy twitching with need and excitement. You were perfect. “Then let me show you how good I can be to you.”

With a smile, she teased her fingers over your sensitive folds, playing with your clit and pulling small moans from you, before she eased her digits inside you. Your tight walls accepted her gladly, fluttering and pulsing around her happily and a string of moans filled her ears. She curled them experimentally, looking for your sweet spot and it didn’t take long to find it, your back arching off the couch in delight.

“Yeah, that’s your spot, isn’t it? Right there.” She emphasized her words, by pressing on it again.

“Yes, right there!” You sighed, back arching as the pleasure inside you started to grow again.

Wanda’s fingers were even better than the toy, stretching you deliciously, as they moved just the way you liked and you couldn’t believe that you had lived so long without getting to experience them.

Her hungry eyes were stuck on the view of her fingers moving in and out of you, your juices sticking to the palm of her hand, that she made sure to press against your clit at each stroke. It was obscene how much you reacted to her, how badly you needed her and you tried to pull her closer, so you’d hide in the crook of her neck, but she wouldn’t let you.

“No need to be embarrassed, darling. Mommy loves to see how good she makes you feel.” She husked, but gave in none the less, wanting to feel you close to her.

She peppered soft kisses on your cheeks and jaw, trailed them down your neck and against your ear as you moaned for her, clawing at her clothed back and it took everything in her not to stretch you out with a third finger. When your walls tightened around her, gripping her hard, she knew you were getting close again, your insatiable little pussy just begging her for more.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She asked sweetly. “Are you going to make a mess all over my fingers?”

“God, yes!” You gasped, trying to pull her impossibly closer.

“Show me.” Wanda husked, claiming your lips in another kiss, nestling even closer to you, pulling your legs around her waist, so she could press against you snugly, almost folding you in half as her fingers worked your G-spot.

The position was surprisingly intimate, your body trapped under Wanda. It felt snug and safe, all your senses surrounded by her. You could smell her perfume, see the curtain of her soft, wavy hair falling around you, taste her as she kissed you, feel her deep inside you as you reached your edge with soft moans of pure pleasure.

When you finally fell over it, she helped you ride the waves of extasy, her fingers never stopping their movement. You were writhing under her, but she held you down effortlessly, until you gave her everything you had to offer and she pulled out of you with a contented grin.

“That’s my good girl.” She praised, lifting up her fingers to inspect them and slowly putting them in her mouth, so she could clean them up. “And so delicious too.” She added happily.

For a moment she contemplated letting you rest, but her own arousal was driving her crazy, the wetness in her panties a stark reminder of how badly she needed some relief. But it wasn’t just that. She hadn’t even properly undressed you yet, hadn’t had a chance to taste you from the source. She wanted to do so many things to you…

“Thank you.” You purred like a happy cat, stretching a little from underneath her.

“Such good manners.” Wanda mused. “Always such a good girl for me.” She smiled, noting the way you beamed proudly at her praise. “Think you can help Mommy undress you?” She asked, waiting for your happy nod of consent and your eager adjustment, so you can help her lift off your dress and discard it.

For a moment you felt a little insecure about yourself, despite the many times you had paraded yourself in front of Wanda, but she didn’t let you dwell on it for too long. She kissed you deeply, her lips never leaving yours, while her hands reached behind you and unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere behind her, while her hands explored you. Your skin was so soft to her touch, your body responding to every little caress and begging for more.

You were gorgeous in this state and she wanted to show you just how much she truly loved you, wanted to show you how deep her feelings really went, wanted you to know that this meant everything to her. You meant everything to her.

“Can I see you too, please?” You asked shyly, while she massaged your breasts, eyes fixed on them hungrily.

“Of course, darling.” She smiled knowingly, probably realizing how shy you must feel, being the only one naked. “Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“May I?” You practically beamed at her, sitting up in anticipation.

“Of course, sweetness.” Wanda smiled softly, stopping her movements, so she could give you some space.

Undressing Wanda was almost a spiritual experience. Each item of clothing you were able to remove revealed more of her beauty to your adoring gaze and she felt the swell of pride when she watched you take in every curve with admiration. It felt so good to be admired so openly and she allowed you to take your time, to kiss and caress her, as you shed her clothing.

When you unclasped her bra, freeing her breasts, you almost drooled at the sight of them. Perky nipples stood at attention, begging to be worshipped and you barely had time to ask if she’d let you, before you did just that. Capturing each breast in your palms, you swirled your tongue over her nipples, sucking on them gently and smiling when you pulled soft sighs of pleasure from the older woman.

As you finally reached her underwear, lacy, red panties fully capturing your attention, you couldn’t help but gasp, when you found her just as wet as you were.

“Do you like seeing that, honey? Do you like knowing you make me this wet? Do you like knowing that every night I heard you call out to me, I got just as wet, touching myself to the thought of making you mine? Does it excite you, knowing that you caused all this?”

“Yes, Mommy! I always wanted you just like that. Always wanted to know how you would feel, what you would taste like, if I could have you in my mouth.” You confessed, remembering each time you fantasized that Wanda would find you with your hand between your legs and give you exactly what you wanted.

“Well, now that you have me, have a taste.” She nodded happily, helping you take off her panties and spreading her legs, to give you a good view of her soaked folds.

Instead of answering, you just kneeled, slipping off the couch effortlessly and finding your place between her legs. With the sight of her soaked panties and the delicious smell of her reaching your nostrils, you could already feel your mouth water. There was something so erotic about having her above you like this.

Wanda looked as regal as a queen as she let you take her in in all her glory. Darkened, green eyes never looked away from you, as she left everything on display. And by all the gods, she was magnificent. Everything about her was pure perfection and you were happy to stay right there, on your knees, forever, worshipping and admiring her, if it wasn’t for the hand, that soon tangled itself in your hair, pulling you closer to her.

She leaned in, kissing you fully and only pulled away, when you both needed to breathe.

“Don’t make me wait too long.” She said as she leaned back against the couch, the hand in your hair pulling you forward and closer to where she wanted you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” You smiled, moving forward on your own and taking a small experimental lick.

Her reaction was instantaneous, her fingers tightening their grip and pulling you all the way, until your mouth was flush against her. She sighed with satisfaction, her legs spreading wider, to give you more room to explore her and by God, she tasted so good. You wanted to devour her whole.

“Yeah, that’s better!” She sighed, her hips canting up against your mouth, as your tongue swirled over her clit. “Just like that, baby.”

Her praise was almost hypnotic, sparking something inside you, an urge to be better than all her other lovers, to show her that you’re worth all this, that you would earn the privilege to be hers. To show her that you would learn what made her feel good, what made her moan out in pleasure, what had her screaming and bucking her hips into your mouth. You’d learn it all and you’ll give it to her, just so she would call you her good girl again.

“Fuck, yes!” She cursed under her breath. “So fucking good with your mouth.”

Her hand in your hair kept you firmly against her, nails scratching at your scalp as Wanda guided you through what she wanted. And she wasn’t shy about it either. The closer she got, the more she used you for her pleasure, her legs planted on your shoulders as she rode you even more.

“Fingers, honey. Put your fingers inside me.” She spoke breathlessly, almost suffocating you with how much she pushed you into her pussy, when she felt you enter her. “Yes, just like that!” She praised. “Such a good girl. Gonna make Mommy cum so hard.”

The prospect of making her cum had your excitement reach new levels and you doubled your efforts, swirling your tongue around her clit in circles that seemed to drive her crazy. You could feel her walls pulse around your fingers, squeezing you and pulling you in, as far as you could go and you knew she wouldn’t last much longer.

Wanda reached her edge with a high-pitched moan, her thighs squeezing around your head and the hand in your hair tightening its hold on you almost painfully, just as she started to fall apart. The orgasm that built in the pit of her stomach spread like a tidal wave, coursing through her entire body as she shook against you.

She could feel your free hand gripping her thigh, trying to keep her steady as you helped her ride it all out. When she did, body slumping on the couch with a happy sigh, she hurried to pull you up and into her embrace. Getting to cum with your mouth and fingers felt so much better than the empty nights she spent with her toys and she knew she wouldn’t be able to give you up, even for a second.

When she was able to recover, she got up, helping you to your feet with a gentle hand.

“Let me take you upstairs, sweetheart.” She suggested. “I believe you had an interest in my collection?”

Her words were full of innuendo and you practically leaped, following her up the stairs and only stopping in front of her bedroom.

“Wanda?” You looked up at her, a little insecure.

“Yes, darling.” She paused, at hearing her name pass your lips, instead of the title you chose to give her.

“Is this…” You tried to ask, but couldn’t find the right words, biting your lips in anticipation. “Does it mean…”

“You mean everything to me, Y/N.” She said reassuringly, clearly understanding what you wanted to ask.

She had spent her whole life looking for love like yours. For someone, who would worship her the way you did. And now that she had it, she couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. Couldn’t imagine ever sharing you with another soul, or letting anyone ever touch you the way she did. As soon as she kissed you, she knew that she will commit to you for good.

“Do you mean it?” You looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Because I…”

“So do I, my darling.” She smiled softly at you, knowing that neither one of you was ready to admit it just yet.

The two of you stood there, in front of her door, for a few moments longer, just smiling at each-other, letting your eyes say the things you couldn’t form into words, before you couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

“May I kiss you again?” You asked a little shyly, fighting the urge to hide into her again.

Wanda’s smile only widened. She opened her door, the soft light from within illuminating the perfectly pristine space, as she pulled you closer to her.

“Come inside, sweetheart and you can do so much more than just kiss.”

______________________________________________________

I just might have to make a part 2 to this fic, because there is just so much left unsaid here... But at least I get to share the beginning with you guys! Let me know what you think!

If you liked this story and you want more, please visit the Masterlist with all my works. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: Image not mine. I'd happily give credit to the owner if I knew who they were :)

[multific]

The Window of the Soul

A'Tok x Reader

Summary: They kidnapped humans to use as slaves. He saw you the day you arrived at Yautja Prime.

They took others too. You weren’t so special. 

But why was it so strange?

You noticed him from the day they took you from Earth. He was the only one who saw you more than a prey or slave. It was visible in his eyes. 

He pitied you. 

And you didn’t mind. You needed his pity to survive. 

When they started killing the others, you gave up on going home. 

But you did want to survive. 

At least live a life and not die a worthless death. 

It is what you aimed for. 

You hoped for a family to take you. 

You hoped the young alpha would take you to his care. 

He didn’t look as mean as the others. He held a certain kindness in his eyes. 

You failed to notice that this was only towards you. 

The next day, he took you home with him.

Well, you say home but your image of a home was very different from theirs.

You assumed you would be a slave to him, like the others you saw once they were picked.

You knew that he could do anything with you.

The last thing you would have guessed was that he would feed you.

He brought a huge plate filled with meat and fruits.

It was so big you ate it for two days.

But you could have it worse.

You heard the stories from other humans. You knew none survived for longer than two years.

You were already there for almost one and a half.

In his care, you were for only half a year.

Well, you say care, in reality, you took care of his home. Cleaning, and he did teach you how to cook for him.

He was a hunter, as you have learned. 

In the tribe you lived, he was a hunter along with other males. It was the highest and one of the most prestigious positions, the only one higher was the leader of the tribe.

You could only work off of your ideas as you didn't understand them fully.

You did learn a couple of words but other than that, clueless.

Although their traditions made a lot of sense, they were similar to the ones you learn about in school.

Except for his eyes. There was something about his eyes that you noticed the first time you saw him. Something different about him, something kind.

You stopped being so nervous around the time when he brought home more than enough fur for you to have a bed of your own. 

If you didn't know any better you would think that he was treating you as an equal.

You did find it weird that he didn't lock his doors, let you roam free and let you around huge knives.

Perhaps he wasn't afraid that you would hurt him, perhaps he knew you had no chance of hurting him.

He would be able to kill you long before even the thought could come to your mind. 

While you were thinking of the ways he could be hurting you, he did nothing as such.

Not even a finger of his touched you at any time.

“A’Tok,” he said one day. You weren’t sure how, but you knew it was his name. 

“Y/N,” you simply replied. When he said your name, it sounded so strange but it also sounded very nice.

You repeated back his name. 

Yautja could not show emotion on their face, but you swore you saw a small twinkle in his eyes. Those eyes spoke stories to you, even if you didn't know nor did you understand.

You chose to ignore this.

What you couldn't ignore however was the day you got sick.

You felt a fever coming a couple of days ago, and soon, you became ill.

A'Tok had no idea what to do.

He stayed by your side day in and out.

You got so hazy with the fever, that you reached out to him since he was the only living being there with you.

"Don't leave me, please." you said even if you knew that he didn't understand you.

But he didn't leave, instead, he laid down next to you and pulled you close to him.

His cold body comforted you as you fell asleep.

The next day you woke up exactly as you fell asleep, in his arms.

You still felt under the weather but you were rather hungry now.

Your slightest movement woke up A'Tok. And he soon realized what you needed.

He brought you to the kitchen and prepared a simple meal.

While eating, you realise that you will never go home. You will never be back to Earth and somehow, you were okay with that. Somehow, you didn't mind living here with A'Tok. 

It all hit you like a cold shower and yet, somehow you were okay with everything.

You looked into his eyes and you felt at ease, you felt like you could live the rest of your life with him or at least for as long as he kept looking at you like that.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @darlingmira @stygianoir @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORK TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[teamatsumu]

kept me waiting. (suna rintarou x reader)

summary: for six years, you have loved no other alpha except suna.

word count: 3397

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, alpha!suna, omega!fem!reader, some angst, smut, typical omegaverse jargon (mating, knotting, scent, slick), oral (fem receiving)

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose

There’s only so long you could have waited.

At 16 years old, you were a budding omega. You had presented recently and were trying to adjust to the changes that came with your secondary gender. You were curious about yourself, and about others as well. In your uncertain new beginning, you met Suna Rintaro.

He had presented as an Alpha about a year ago, and he was more comfortable in his skin than you were. He was brooding and slightly lazy, but endlessly perceptive. Clever. And he smelled to you like a garden you wanted to lay in, surrounded by grass and flowers. He brought you comfort. And your novice omega heart fell in love with him.

The kettle whistled, indicating that your water was ready for a cozy cup of tea. You pour it into a cup, grab your muffin and your tea before settling on the couch. It was evening time and the TV was on, loud cheering emitting from its speakers. You placed your blanket over your lap and then rested your plate on it, finally turning your attention to the screen and the live game that was about to start. You had never once missed a game of Suna’s, after all.

Almost 7 years since you had first met the boy, and to this day, you heart yearned for him. He was your best friend, your most personal confidant. The love of your life, though that fact was not known by him. Your Omega had attached herself to him explicitly, vowed to love him forever, and despite him not returning your feelings, you hung on to the tiniest, withering hope that somehow, things between you two would work out.

The game was an exhilarating one, and in the end, EJP Raijins came out of it victorious. You watched the team celebrate on screen, grinning wide and cheering them on silently. When the camera panned to Suna, your heart squeezed. You shot him a quick congratulations text, asking him how he wanted to celebrate. Suna had informed you beforehand that he would be crashing at yours after the game, since you lived so close to the venue. You had enthusiastically agreed, of course. Any excuse to spend more time with him.

Half an hour later, your phone pinged with a reply from him.

‘Will be back late, sorry.. dont wait up’

You pursed your lips in disappointment before sighing loudly and resigning to an early night. It was fine, you were tired from work anyway, so getting extra sleep will be good. But spending some time with Suna….

He had been so busy lately, with rigorous practices leading up to the beginning of this season. You hadn’t seen him in weeks, and you didn’t enjoy that fact, nor did your omega. You missed him terribly. You swallowed down your sadness and trudged into bed. It was a familiar feeling when it came to Suna. The yearning and the realization that he wasn’t yours.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was high in the sky and filtering through your closed curtains. You groaned and cursed softly, not expecting to sleep in so late. Your mood only lightened when you walked into the kitchen and found Suna sitting on the island, scrolling through his phone over a steaming cup of tea. His hair was messy and unkempt, indicating that he just woke up, but the sight of him had your face lifting with a smile.

“Rin!” You greeted, clearing your throat when you heard how hoarse your voice was. “Congratulations on the game!”

“Hey,” His smile made your heart squeeze. “Sorry, did I wake you last night?”

You blinked in confusion. “No?”

“Oh.” He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Good, good.”

You eyed him for a moment, trying to gauge what he meant. You walked toward the kettle that was still going, planning on pouring some of it for yourself too. As you moved past the man, a scent hit your nose and your body stiffened.

Omega.

There was no doubt in your head. It was an omega scent, wafting off Suna in waves and mixing intimately with his own wonderful scent. You froze behind him, nose twitching when you took another deep breath and identified the scent even more distinctly. You didn’t recognize it, but you knew it was omega. And the way it was coming off Suna, focused so closely on his scent glands meant only one thing.

“Why’d you get here so late, Rin?” There was a little tremble in your voice.

Suna didn’t seem to notice, scrolling idly through his phone, distracted. He hummed a bit in question before replying.

“Drinking with the guys.” He drawled.

And then? You didn’t ask. It wasn’t your place. You loved foolishly believing that Suna was your Alpha but he wasn’t. And you couldn’t exactly tell him to not see any omega when you didn’t have any claim on him either. Silently, you left the kitchen, hoping he wouldn’t call after you, walking into your room and closing the door. You leaned your forehead against the warm wood and closed your eyes.

Stupid. Stupid. What right did you have to feel the way you did? Suna wasn’t yours. He could be with anyone he pleased. He could sleep with other omegas. Scent them. Court them. Knot them. Your throat tightened.

So then why did you feel like a wounded animal? Why was your omega whining like she had lost her mate and not some random alpha she had unfairly been obsessed with for so long? In moments like this, you hated your secondary gender. You hated your omega. You hated that you were so in love with Suna that this felt like cheating to you.

However, your hurt was exclusively your own, and you couldn’t project it onto anyone else. Suna was here now, and even though the sight of him made you weep, you still found joy in being around him. You would spend the day with him, and get the closure you needed. Then you would lick your wounds and move on. You had waited long enough.

So that’s what you did. And here you were now, a week later, sitting across from an Alpha you had met just today, listening to him talk about his job and his hobbies while you smiled and nodded. There was an almost bitter undertone to your feelings. Over the days, your sadness had transformed into anger. It was unjustified and not really something Suna deserved, but you still directed it at him. Because he had ruined you for anyone else.

The Alpha before you was a perfect gentleman. He was a friend of your friend’s, and everything she had told you about him was true. He was kind, well spoken, good looking. He knew how to carry a conversation, since he was doing most of the talking while you rolled around in your own head.

But he wasn’t witty. He wasn’t quick and sly. He didn’t have a thin, cutting smirk and narrow green eyes that pierced through you. He didn’t smell like freshly cut grass and cool, open air.

He wasn’t Suna.

After the date, he walked you to the train station, where you claimed you would get on the train home. He gave you a respectful hug and smiled kindly when you said you would call (you wouldn’t call). Then, when he mixed in with the crowd and disappeared, you turned around and walked straight out, beginning to trudge on foot to your home.

Your thoughts were all over the place, your eyes were lined with unshed tears, your breath felt like it was trapped in your lungs. You didn’t comprehend the stupidity behind walking all the way home, and how it would take hours. Your friend texted you, asking about the date. You didn’t reply. Instead, you tapped on that one cursed name that you couldn’t wipe from your mind and sent only two words.

Fuck you.

It took you two and a half hours to walk home. It could have been quicker if you weren’t in heels. After about half an hour of walking in them, your feet began to hurt. You used the pain to distract yourself from the jumble of thoughts in your head, and by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to look down at them. You couldn’t imagine how bad they looked, if the tingling and shooting pains were any indication. It now traveled up your legs and to your lower back, aching all over. At some point, the air nipped cold at your cheeks, and you finally noticed that it was because of the tears that now ran down them.

When you unlocked the door and stepped inside the warmth of your apartment was the first time you seemed to be aware of your surroundings. You froze just inside the door when a large figure blocked the light, making you look up at a scowling Suna.

“Where the hell were you? I was calling like crazy!” His voice was louder than his usual register, and more emotional. You blinked a bit and sniffled. Your skin felt stiff because of the dried tears. Your feet still screamed.

“Why are you here?” Your voice was low.

“I’m-” Suna’s eyes traveled down, and they widened slightly at the sight of your feet.

“What did you- did you walk?”

You sighed and lumbered past him, ignoring the pleading protests of your feet to get the weight off them. You finally sat down on the couch, feeling no better. The pain was still there. You kept your focus acutely on it, trying not to look at the one man who was causing your misery. But he seemed adamant on making himself known, kneeling before you to help take off your shoes. You jerked your legs away. Suna looked up at you, shocked.

“Don’t touch me.” Your voice was cutting.

Something flashed in his eyes. “Let me help.”

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you.”

Suna reached for your shoe strap again. “Don’t be stubborn, omega.”

You felt your blood boil and you finally raised your voice. “Don’t call me that!”

He eyed you for a moment. “What? Omega? Aren’t you one?”

“Suna-”

He glared at you. Glared. A withering look that almost made you shrink. But your emotions were too great. You grit your teeth and didn’t say anything. Didn’t address the fact that you had called him by his last name for the first time in six years.

Suna peeled your shoes off your feet as gently as he could. But it hurt regardless, and you hissed when they finally came off. He ran soothing hands over the tender, angry skin. You tried not to think about his touch, tried not to sink into the feeling. But your efforts only made tears gather in your lash line once more. You eyed his raven hair, his head bent low to look at your feet. He sat cross legged before you, laying light touches on the swollen parts of your feet.

“Why are you here?” You repeated.

“Well, when my best friend texted me a colorful ‘fuck you’ out of nowhere, then proceeded to ignore all my calls, I was understandably worried.”

You sighed and looked away just before he could meet your eyes. He continued. “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

You didn’t reply, pointedly looking away. You cursed at the moment of weakness that caused your lapse of judgment and made you text him. Him showing up was your own mistake.

He exhaled loudly, looking down at your feet that he was still gently massaging. “I didn’t sleep with anyone.”

Your head snapped to him in shock, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Suna didn’t look up, but his lips twitched into a little smile.

“That’s why you’ve been acting so weird, right? For the last few days? You were pissed and sad that your Alpha slept with another omega.”

Your mind reeled, and you sat frozen as you tried but failed to absorb Suna’s words. Your alpha?

When he looked up, his lips were tilted in a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby.”

Again, you lurched. You tried to pull your feet from his grasp, to stand up and get away from him, put any distance between you two. Maybe his scent was making you heady. Maybe you were hallucinating. He gripped at your leg, making sure you stayed put.

“You’re- I don’t know what you’re saying.” You rasped.

Suna chuckled before sighing a bit defeatedly. “I wanted to confess in a more romantic way than this but you started being all distant and shit. I can’t see you like this.”

You couldn’t believe it. You had so many questions and not enough answers for the predicament you were in. And Suna’s pretty forest eyes didn’t help keep your head straight either.

“You- what do you mean confess?”

Suna’s hand ran up your bare calf lightly, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

“What do you think it means?” He countered in classic Suna fashion. Answering your question with a question. “Telling you that I like you. Taking you out. Courting you. Mating you. The whole she-bang.”

For the hundredth time today, tears filled your eyes. “Rin….”

He watched you, eyes forlorn as you silently weeped. His hand still rubbed comfortingly over your legs. Up and down, slow motions. His touch grounded you.

“You made me wait-” You hiccuped. “-for so long.”

Suna continued eyeing you. He leaned forward to rest his head on your knee. “I thought you knew how much I liked you. I spend all my time with you. I scent your clothes, dammit. I thought you weren’t saying anything on purpose. That you wanted to come to me on your own terms.”

You smacked his shoulder hard. He didn’t even budge. “You are such an asshole.”

Suna chuckled a bit before turning his head and laying a kiss on the side of your knee. The skin tingled. He pulled away only a hair, and his breath hit your skin. A chill ran up your leg. Suna turned his head only slightly, his eyes meeting yours. Your heart skipped. Heat ran down your body, settling at the base of your stomach.

His lips skimmed over the bare skin of your knee. His left hand, placed on your right shin, traveled slowly up your leg until it dipped below the hem of your dress. Your breath caught in your throat. Your core grew damp. Suna’s gaze heated up, and his lip twitched with a tiny smirk.

“I can smell you.”

You bit your lip when his hand traveled up, up, until his skin was meeting delicate lace.

“So wet, omega.” He nipped at your leg. “And I haven’t even done anything. So good for your Alpha. So ready.”

His unoccupied hand hooked under your knee and tugged until your hips reached the edge of your couch, until you were laying back on it. Your eyes didn’t leave him. His words ran straight between your legs, making you clench hard. You bit your lip and looked at Suna with teary eyes.

“Rin.”

You had nothing else to say. Suna let out a breathy laugh and increased the pressure of his thumb on your slit. You gasped.

“Will you be good f’me?” His voice was octaves deeper. “Let me eat out your sweet little pussy?”

His crude language made you moan. Suna finally moved, lips going higher over your thigh until he bypassed your body completely and leaned up to connect his lips with yours. You grasped the sides of his face, kissing him back hard and deep. You poured every emotion into that one kiss, letting Suna lap over your lips hungrily. His scent enveloped you like a comforter, one hand pushing up the skirt of your dress while the other’s movements grew more urgent on your clothed pussy. You were slicking up rapidly. You could feel it run from your hole and down your ass until it landed on the couch. You couldn’t give less of a shit if you were dirtying the furniture. Your brain was rapidly turning into mush as your omega preened under Suna’s attention, his tongue invading your mouth like it was his own and he was only reclaiming it.

“Pretty baby.” He rasped into your mouth. “Good little omega. Get wetter for me. Need to drink all your juice.”

Your face felt like it was on fire, and you whined right against his lips. When he pulled away, you tried to chase after him, already addicted to the high that his lips brought. Suna hummed in amusement and tugged on your panties, pulling them off your ankles. He pressed the fabric directly to his nose and breathed deep. You watched him with half lidded eyes as you bit your lip to hell.

“You smell so fucking divine.” Suna groaned. “Always thought so. Loved cuddling up to you. Being close to you. My lovely omega.”

You moaned again, feeling how you gushed at his words. You didn’t realize you were into praise, but when it came from Suna, it lit a fire inside you. You clenched hard around nothing, now acutely aware of your rapidly building need.

“Rin,” you gasped. “Please. Please.”

“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” He shamelessly pried your legs open. You let him. “I’ll take such good care of my omega.”

His first lick was a thick stripe up your open slit, filthy and hungry, before he licked harder and faster over your clit. You gasped at the contact, the urgent relief of finally having stimulation you were craving so much. Your fingers automatically buried themselves in his soft hair, tugging tight at the roots. Suna hummed his approval and suctioned his lips on your clit, lapping and slurping like he was a man starved.

He was glorious at it, eating pussy like it was his last meal, hands holding your thighs apart firmly so his movements were unhindered. Stars burst in your vision and your hips jerked, not sure if you wanted to lean into him or tug away from how intense it was. Your torso undulated and arched, tears ran down the sides of your face and you moaned unencumbered. Suna seemed to enjoy it, because he pulled off with a wet smooch and replaced his lips with his thumb, not leaving you dry for one second.

“So fucking delicious.” His voice had gone scratchy and wrecked. “Good fucking girl. Moan for me, baby. God, I could do this forever.”

You felt something prod at your entrance before two fingers rapidly sank into you to the knuckle, curling hard and rubbing at your walls. You cried out again, not even embarrassed by how wet the noises became, how potent your scent was becoming, you badly you needed to cum on his fingers or you didn’t know what you would do-

His lips sealed over your clit and you were gone.

Suna didn’t even slow his movements as you reached your high. He helped prolong it, sucking harder and pushing his fingers in and out of you, scissoring and curling until your walls felt abused and used beyond belief. You wailed and weeped as you dug your fingers into the couch cushion under you. You had slid so far down the couch that it nearly bent you in half. You tried to close your legs and Suna finally pulled out, kissing over your mound a few times before he leaned up and attached his lips to the skin of your neck, licking and biting lightly over your scent gland, trying to embed his own scent into you. The feeling of him so close to that spot had your mind reeling. You hugged him close.

“Bite me.”

Suna kissed you again. “Not like this.”

“But I love you.”

He chuckled and sucked lightly on your skin until it darkened. “Still won’t mate you on a couch. When I do it, it’s going to be with your cunt full of my knot.”

You flushed and groaned in embarrassment, feeling the way your core pulsed again. Suna laughed and nuzzled your neck.

“Don’t worry. I have a lot of loving to give you before we get there.”