#why did washing my face give me a sudden burst of energy

[mangoes-and-mothman]

i washed my face and i feel less evil

[0cta9on]

Lessons

Length: +7k words

Genre: Smut

IVE Gaeul x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Thank you to the buyer for purchasing this commission, and thank you to @msafterhours for beta reading! If you are interested in purchasing a commission from me or simply want to leave a little tip, head on over to my ko-fi page!)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

“Ugh, this is so fucking annoying!” Gaeul groans, slamming her fist against the table, the clattering of silverware echoing throughout the apartment. Wonyoung, used to her sudden bursts of anger, doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I already told that old guy from SBS that I’m not interested, yet he keeps spamming my messages!”

“Why did you give him your number in the first place if you’re not interested?” Wonyoung inquires.

Gaeul’s cheeks turn a bright red, her gaze falling nervously to the side. “...You know why.”

“Because you’re horny?” Wonyoung posits, raising her brow.

The older girl’s face falls into her hands in misery, emitting a deep guttural groan that carries the weight of her dissatisfaction. “This is so unfair, how did you guys find boyfriends and I have to slog through all these gross older men and obnoxious boy group members?” Gaeul glances at her with a pout on her lips. “Am I ugly or something?”

Wonyoung sighs, gently holding her groupmate’s hand from across the table. “Of course you’re not ugly, you’re just… unlucky.” Gaeul faceplants into the table, her muffled whimpers eliciting sympathy from the younger girl. “Look, why don’t you just ask out our manager already? I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Gaeul’s face shoots up, tomato red with panic. “W-what are you talking about!? That’s our manager, that’s w-weird!”

Wonyoung scoffs. “And you think touching yourself while moaning his name isn’t weird?”

“H-how did y-”

“These walls are paper thin, just because you play ocean noises in the background doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”

Gaeul sinks into her chair, covering her face in embarrassment. With a sigh, Wonyoung pulls up a website on her phone and slides it across the table. “Here, a bunch of my friends used this website when they were in your position and they all managed to find a boyfriend within a week.”

The older girl scans the phone, immediately grimacing at the shoddy nature of the website. Aside from an embedded video in the middle of the site and a measly drop down menu titled “Lessons”, it’s essentially barebones. All the text is in Comic Sans for some god awful reason, and whatever moron made this sorry excuse for a website decided to use bright orange over pink. It’s like wrapping a terrible gift in even uglier wrapping paper.

“Wonyoung, this is… grim,” she mutters.

Wonyoung shrugs. “The results speak for themselves.” She takes her phone back and walks towards her room at the end of the hallway. “You better watch those videos. You’re already ruining my beauty sleep, I won’t let you ruin beaches for me too,” she calls out, her bedroom door slamming behind her.

Gaeul leans her head against her palm, contemplating her options. She could ignore Wonyoung’s advice and continue to foolishly look around for dick until her standards drop so low that she ends up sleeping with — God forbid — some washed up 2nd gen idol, or she could learn a thing or two from that hideous website and ask out her hot manager, potentially making things awkward between them for the rest of her career. 

She barely has to think about it before pulling out her phone, pulling up the website in mere seconds. With a deep breath, she presses play on the first video.

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 1: HOW TO GET A MAN

Being the manager of one of the biggest girl groups in the world leaves you with little energy and even less free time. At first, it was fun. When IVE first debuted, they were nervous yet excited about finally achieving the dreams they’ve worked so hard for, and you wanted to help them out anyway you could, becoming a strong pillar that they can rely on. 

However, after a couple years of idol experience under their belt combined with their very quick rise to stardom, the job that you once loved turned into a complete nightmare, which only worsened once the girls found partners. Just last week, you had to wrestle a camera away from a Dispatch worker after he took photos of Rei sucking off her boyfriend in the middle of a park—all of this at 3 fucking AM. To add salt to the wound, instead of being commended for preventing a potential PR disaster, you got chewed out by your supervisor for not managing them well enough. Sure, let’s ignore the million other times you’ve warned them about doing stupid things in public that they keep ignoring. 

At least not all of them are a handful to deal with since Gaeul doesn’t have a boyfr-

*Ring Ring*

Speak of the devil. You answer your phone.

“Hey Gaeul, what’s up?”

“H-hi, um…” She clears her throat, her nervousness putting you on edge.

“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?”

“N-no, it’s nothing like that! It’s just, uh… Are you busy tomorrow?”

You scan your desk, cluttered with a messy pile of paperwork. Even at your most productive, it’ll take you the entire week to get through everything alongside the plethora of meetings you’ll have to attend. “Yeah, I’ll probably be busy tomorrow, why?”

“Oh, um… How about Saturday?”

“Gaeul, what is this about?”

“Just…!” She sighs audibly in frustration. “Yes or no?”

Rolling your eyes, you take a quick glance at your calendar. Aside from a note that says “buy groceries”, it seems like your entire weekend is free. “Yes, I’m free on Saturday. What is this-”

“Great! I’ll text you an address. Be there at 5pm sharp. Bye!”

“Wai-”

Gaeul hangs up before you can utter another word, leaving you to wonder what all of this is about and why she sounded so nervous over the phone. Your mind runs through all the potential scenarios this could be. As far as you know, there aren’t any events Ive are performing at and filming for their YouTube show doesn’t start until next week. Could this be a prank the girls are pulling on you?

Even as you look up the address she sent you, all you're left with is more questions than answers.

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 2: HOW TO ACT PROPER ON A DATE

Saturday rolls around after another particularly difficult week of running around protecting IVE’s image. If you’re being honest, you fully expected to pass away from stress alone after Yujin and Liz nearly got caught having a foursome in someone’s pool by Dispatch yet again. At the very least, this photographer didn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as the last one.

As you travel to the far side of the city and stroll up to the fancy restaurant Gaeul all but forced you to come to, you silently pray that this isn’t some weird way of her announcing her new relationship to you. You enter the restaurant, almost immediately receiving a glare of disdain from the host as he scans your casual outfit of a T-shirt and jeans, unbefitting of the atmosphere.

“I’m sorry sir, but we have a strict dress code and we unfortunately cannot seat you with your current outfit,” he says, flashing a condescending smile.

“Actually, sorry if this is weird, but is a woman named Gaeul here?” you ask, ignoring his poor attitude.

He looks down at his podium, scanning through some papers before his expression suddenly shifts into something more genial. “Ah, of course! Right this way, sir.” He leads you down a side hallway that’s hidden away from the main seating area, and brings you to one of many doors. “Ms. Gaeul is right in this room, sir.”

You open the door, your jaw hitting the floor in awe as you scan the intricate decorations that adorn the room. A golden chandelier hangs overhead, illuminating everything in a warm glow, while beautifully realistic paintings of fruit bowls and flower vases hang on the walls. In the center of the room sits a table, draped with a red silk cloth and topped with lit candles that set a sort of romantic mood. Gaeul sits on one end, sporting a black strapless dress that shows off her milky skin and thin figure.

“Hi!” She says, walking to you with outstretched arms. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Hey— o-oh.” You flinch in surprise as she pulls you into a warm embrace, instinctually slotting your arm around her delicate waist. It’s the first hug you’ve shared with one of the members, and your discomfort quickly fades as you sink into her. 

“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” she says. You sit across from her, your eyes darting around the room, overwhelmed by the ambience. “You like the view?”

“Yeah, this place is pretty cool, but why did you want me to come here?”

“To surprise you of course!” 

Just then, a procession of servers files through the door, carrying silver platters full of food. With each dish they place, you salivate more and more, your stomach rumbling intensely. By the time the last dish is set, the entire table is filled with various dishes of different smells, colors, and textures, none of it discernible but all of it delicious. The final cherry on top is the bottle of expensive wine that the server pours into your glass. This is it. This is Heaven.

“Since you work so hard for us, I thought it would be fitting to treat you to a nice meal,” Gaeul explains, smiling at you. “You deserve it.

“W-wow, this is just… thank you so much, Gaeul,” You say, still scanning the food in front of you. “I wish you would’ve told me to wear something nicer though. That guy at the front side-eyed me the second I walked in.”

“It’s okay, I think you look sexy in anything you wear,” she giggles, cutting her laughter short with a bite of her lip. For a split second, you swear your heart skips a beat.

Blush grows on your cheeks, taken aback by her sudden compliment. “O-oh, uh, thanks. You look, um, very nice too.”

“Just nice?” She pouts cutely. “I got all dressed up for you and that’s all you’re gonna say?”

The heat in your face deepens as you nervously avert your gaze. You compliment the girls all the time, why do you suddenly feel weird about it now? “You look… very pretty, Gaeul.”

She grins warmly, satisfied by your answer. “Thank you. Now eat up! It’s all for you.”

You spend the next few minutes in pure bliss trying out every single dish, each bite better than the last. Sweet, savory, bitter, earthy, flavor combinations you never even knew existed dance around on your taste buds; pair that with the rich taste of the wine and suddenly, you’re floating on cloud nine.

“How’s the food?” She asks. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Of course I am,” you say, grinning at her. “I’m eating delicious food and drinking expensive wine with a beautiful girl.”

“Oh?” Her brow raises with intrigue, a smirk playing on her glossy lips. “Beautiful? I thought you said I was just pretty?”

“I-I mean yeah, the entire world thinks you’re beautiful,” you stutter, trying to keep your inhibitions in check, a task that’s becoming increasingly difficult with the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed.

“Okay, but what do you think?” Gaeul leans in like a predator backing up its prey into a corner, her light-hearted tone dropping to reveal something more sultry.

You gulp, beads of sweat forming on your head. “W-well, I think you’re a great performer and-”

“That’s not what I meant,” she states, staring intently at you. “Have you ever thought about me? Imagining what you would do to me if we were all alone with no one to bother us, just me and you?” She brings her spoon to her lips, giving it a slow, sensuous lick without ever breaking eye contact.

You shiver as her tongue dances across the silver, desperately wishing it was you instead of the damn spoon. You shouldn’t be having these impure thoughts—though you’d be lying if you said this is the first time you’ve looked at Gaeul this way. You’re her manager, Starship will toss you out in an instant if they suspect that you took the job just to get with the idols. But it’s so hard to think properly with the alcohol flowing through your system and the tightening in your pants.

 Tell her no. Stop her advances immediately before things get out of hand. Yet, you don’t object as Gaeul takes your hand, leading you out of the restaurant. The words start to meld together like goo, all you can make out is an utterance of a “good time” and how you’ve been such a “good boy”. You say a lot of things to her, probably—it’s hard to talk with her tongue shoved in your mouth—but as the taxi takes you to the familiar route towards her apartment, the only clear thought running through your head is how impossible it is to tell this girl “no”. 

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 3: HOW TO PLEASURE A MAN

Gaeul tosses her phone on her bed, scoffing in disgust. After her conversation with Wonyoung last night, she binge watched the first two lessons, even jotting down notes to remember for later. As much as she would hate to admit it, the questionable looking website is an information goldmine for a desperate soul like hers, it’s a wonder how she hasn’t stumbled upon it before. However, her view of it immediately soured again after watching the third lesson.

“Act submissive? Let him do whatever he wants?” Gaeul questions, reiterating the points made in the video. “What kind of bullshit advice is this? If I’m gonna sleep with someone, I’m not trying to be their little fuck doll or whatever!”

She paces around her room, hands running through her hair over and over again as the thoughts bounce around her frustrated mind. What’s the point in doing all this work trying to get a boyfriend if it only amounts to his pleasure? What about her needs? Is she supposed to be happy being reduced to a glorified cum rag?

Fuck no. A sudden realization hits her like a bolt from the blue — She’s Gaeul from IVE. An icon in one of if not the most popular girl group in the world. Any man should feel lucky that she even gave them the time of day.

With a newfound determination, Gaeul picks up her phone, her finger hovering tentatively over the “Call” button on her manager’s contract. She’ll use what she learned in the first two videos for sure; she’s not dumb enough to completely disregard their teachings. But if—no, when things get to the bedroom, she’ll do things her own way.

______________________________________________________________

You and Gaeul stumble through the door of the dorm, lips, limbs, and fingers intertwined in a needy ball of lust. Don’t even bother making it to her room, half of your clothes are already off by the time you reach the living room. Palm her toned stomach, savor the taste of her lewd moans dancing off her tongue and onto yours, shiver as her nails graze against your skin. Do all the dirty things you’ve kept hidden in the back of your mind.

Gaeul breaks away, sitting back on the couch as she strips away the rest of her dress, leaving her in a matching set of black undergarments. She spreads her legs, inviting you to fill the space in between.

“Eat me out,” she commands, words unwavering even as the sheen of arousal coating her thighs tells you exactly how badly she needs this. You quickly oblige, practically diving face first into her sweet heat. Discard her soaked panties; to you, they’re just another obstacle keeping you from what you really want.

“Good boy~,” Gaeul moans as you attack her slit with your tongue. You alternate between long, slow licks to flicking your tongue furiously against her clit. She yanks at your hair, forcing you to take a whiff of her sex. Her scent is intoxicating. You don’t even feel the pain anymore, all you can think about is about pleasuring her gorgeous pussy.

“F-fuck yes, lick my pussy, you fucking perv!” she goads you on and you follow her every command like the dog that you are. Her slim thighs wrap around your head, forcing you deeper and deeper into her until it’s physically impossible for you to get any closer. Forget the alcohol, you’re getting drunker on the sweet nectar dripping from her hole.

Fuck her with your fingers as you lap at her clit with a hunger you’ve never felt before. Her guttural moans are like a siren song, drawing you into her. The way her face contorts with pleasure is so alluring. You thought she was attractive already, but fuck this is the kind of beauty that only you are lucky enough to see. No hounding fans, no Dispatch, just you and Gaeul.

She grabs your hair, pulling you away from her heat, much to your dismay. “Take your fucking cock out,” she commands before pushing you back onto the floor. You make quick work of your boxers, but before you can ask for a condom, Gaeul’s already climbing all over you, lining up your painfully erect cock with her slit.

“W-wait, Gaeul-”

She clasps her hand over your mouth, leering at you with a ravenous glare. “I’ve waited too long for this to use a damn condom. You’re just gonna have to pull out or I’m kicking your ass out into the streets, got it?”

You nod, both terrified and turned on by this new side of Gaeul. With her hand still covering your mouth, she slowly impales herself on your rod, her face silently contorting with each inch of you she takes. You move to grab her hips, but she swats your hand away.

“Absolutely fucking not, we’re doing this my way,” she growls at you. All you can do is submit as she fucks herself onto you at a selfishly slow pace like you’re nothing more than her personal dildo. Your hot breath flows through the miniscule gaps in between her fingers, not even giving you the luxury of a deep breath. You want to get angry, you want to show her who’s boss, but each time she slams her hips down onto you, it’s like she sucks away your will to fight little by little until you're completely left at her mercy.

“Fuck, this is so much better than using my fingers,” she groans, throwing her head back in ecstasy. “I bet you’ve imagined this before, huh? Filling my pussy with your disgusting cock?”

You nod sheepishly. Her words aren’t entirely false; you’ve imagined what it would be like to sleep with some of the girls, but never did you think you would actually get the chance to. Gaeul rocks her hips back and forth, relishing in the way your breath quickens and your eyes twitch with each slam of her petite hips. You feel yourself begin to reach the apex of your climax and urgently tap her thighs to warn her, but all she does is laugh in your face.

“You wanna dump your cum deep into my cunt, don’t you? Impregnate me with your disgusting seed?” she teases. “I’m not on the pill. What are you gonna do?”

Your eyes clamp shut, trying desperately to ignore the building sensation in the pit of your stomach. But with her warm walls making you lose all sense of control, it’s only a matter of time before you inevitably burst inside of her. Right at the last second, you grab Gaeul’s hips and lift her off of you, shooting your cum onto your stomach. Gaeul’s body shakes violently as she reaches her own orgasm, furiously rubbing at her clit as her juices spray all over your torso. Once her messy climax subsides, she scoops a dollop of your semen off of your stomach and licks it, swirling your combined juices in her mouth with a smirk.

“Mmm, tasty,” she says, cupping your chin while her other hand strokes your semi-hard shaft. “You better get it up soon, I’m not done using you.”

“Y-yes…” you mutter, still basking in the high of your orgasm.

Her grip on your face deepens, digging her nails into your cheek. “Yes, who?”

“Yes… mistress,” you utter like the word is commonplace on your tongue. With an amused smirk, Gaeul plants a kiss on your lips, much gentler than you had anticipated.

“You learn quickly. Good boy~” Hearing her say that makes your skin shiver in delight, craving the sensual lilt in her voice. You want her approval. You need her approval. With her, you’re not her manager anymore, you’re her plaything that lives to serve her.

Gaeul bites her lip as she looks down at your cock, already at full mast once again. “Carry me to my room.”

“Yes, mistress,” you answer promptly, scooping her up into your arms. Gaeul nips at your ear as you carry her to her room, trapping yourself inside with the little beast that you’ve worked with for years. The line of morality blurs to the point of disappearing, almost as if it was never there in the first place. It doesn’t matter anymore. All you care about is serving your mistress until she’s completely satisfied.

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes blink open to sunlight peeking through the window. The mattress feels oddly soft, more so than usual. Maybe it’s finally time to bite the bullet and get a new mattress. A blinding headache keeps you glued to your back, unable to make any sudden movements. Your ceiling fan looks odd too. Has it always been this big?

The door clicks open followed by a few light footsteps. “Good morning!” That’s Gaeul’s voice. Why is that Gaeul’s voice?

Panic begins to ensue as you finally look around the room. This isn’t your room. This isn’t your mattress. That’s not your ceiling fan. And where the hell are your clothes?

“W-what the-”

“Here.” Gaeul hands you a water bottle. “I bet your hangover is killing you right now.”

You quickly cover yourself with a blanket, blushing sheepishly. “G-Gaeul… Why am I here? A-and where are my cloth-” Your jaw drops in shock as you scan her outfit — She’s wearing your t-shirt paired with nothing but black panties.

“W-why are you wearing my shirt!?”

She pouts at you, placing the water bottle on her nightstand. “Do you not remember what happened last night?” She leans in with a smirk. “Because I definitely do.”

Her warmth tickles your ear. It’s an oddly… pleasant feeling, but that’s not important right now. “D-did we…?”

“Have sex?” Gaeul finishes your sentence, sitting down next to you. “Yes, we did. And it was amazing.”

Your face falls into your hands. You could lose your job for this. Hell, you could get blacklisted from the entire industry. No one’s going to want to hire a manager that fucked an idol they were supposed to be managing. This is it. You’re gonna have to flee the country, maybe even change your name. You’ll become a beet farmer on some remote island where your only friend is a seagull and-

“Hey,” Gaeul soothes you, rubbing your back. “You look worried. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I-I should’ve never let this happen, I could lose my job, my apartment, my-”

“You’re not gonna lose your job,” she assures you. “If they fire you, I’ll threaten to leave the group.” You turn to her, confused. “W-what, why?”

“Because…” A light blush grows on her cheeks. “I like you. And you made me feel sooo good last night.”

“U-um…”

“Do you still not remember what happened?” she sighs. You shake your head no. “Hmm… maybe this will help jog your memory.”

With a smirk, Gaeul cups your chin, forcing you to look at her. Her hair is still messy and her face is barren without makeup, yet she still looks so beautiful in front of you. She leans in, giving you that same pleasant feeling as her breath dances on your earlobe.

“Good boy.”

Like a movie, the scenes of last night’s misdeeds play vividly in your mind, reminding you exactly what transpired: The dinner. The taxi ride. The sex. Holy fuck, the sex. You’ve dated submissive girls before, but the way Gaeul dominated you was a whole different experience, nothing you’ve ever felt before. She took away your ability to breathe properly, completely leaving you at her mercy, and you enjoyed it. It felt dirty, but it felt good.

Gaeul chuckles as she notices your erection poking through the blanket. “Did that turn you on?”

“N-no, uh…”

“You’re really gonna be shy about it now? It looked like you were enjoying yourself more than I was last night,” she teases.

The blush on your cheeks deepen. “L-look, I… I’ve never done that kind of thing before. Hell, I’ve never had sex with an idol before. This is all kinda new to me,” you admit.

Gaeul sighs, gazing at the wall in contemplation. “I’ve never done anything like that before either. But I liked it.” She turns to you. “Did you like it?”

“Uh… Yeah. I did.”

“Would you want to keep doing it?”

The threat of losing your job still lingers in your mind. This is all new and potentially dangerous territory, and you have no idea what the future could possibly hold for either of you. But you would be the biggest idiot in the world if you lied to yourself and declined her offer.

“Yeah. I want to keep doing this with you,” you say. With a smile, Gaeul tears away the blanket and excitedly jumps into your lap, her crotch resting on your exposed erection. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing keeping you separated from her sweet pussy.

“So does that mean you’ll be my boyfriend?” She asks, now grinding her hips against you. Your breath gets thinner as the heat of ecstasy fills up your entire body.

“Y-yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.”

Gaeul grabs your chin, her nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks. “Yes, who?”

A moan escapes your lips as the pleasure mixes with the pain, leaving you in a state of bliss. “Yes, mistress.”

She smirks at you before taking off your shirt, revealing her perky tits and her petite waist to you. “Good boy. I can’t wait to play with you some more~”

______________________________________________________________

LESSON 4: HOW TO MAKE IT LAST

The last few weeks have been the most exciting weeks of your life. All the previous stress of working as IVE’s manager practically disappeared now that you were with Gaeul. No more wrestling with Dispatch after one of the members gets caught anymore, all she has to do is assert her dominance as the oldest and the rest of the members will listen to her. If you knew that a cheat sheet was underneath your nose this whole time, you would’ve dated her sooner.

Of course, to avoid any controversy and damage to the group, your relationship was kept a secret from everyone, including the members. However, that didn’t stop her from constantly calling you to fulfill her needs. It doesn’t matter where, when, or how many people are around, if she’s in need of release, you’re on your knees, lapping at her pussy like it’s your last meal. Gaeul is absolutely crazy, but you would be downright insane to tell your mistress “no”.

After a couple of close calls, both of you decided that it would be best to come clean to her members about your relationship. It’s already hard enough trying to keep your hands off of each other; you wouldn't want any of them to walk in on the two of you while your tongue is deep inside your girlfriend. At first, you assumed that Gaeul would simply send a quick text to the girls to alert them, but it seems like she has some other plans in mind as the two of you wait for them in one of Starship’s meeting rooms.

Gaeul moans in delight as you suck on her neck while she grinds against your leg. “Fuck, that feels good, baby,” she coos.

“Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you think it’ll be awkward if they walk in on us like this?” You ask, nipping at her ear.

“I locked the door, so they’ll have to knock before they can come in.” Of course she accounted for that. God, you fucking love her. “Now shut up and get back to sucking.”

“Yes, mistress,” you oblige, sinking your fingers into her ass as you ravage her neck. However, your playtime is cut short as a knock at the door signals the presence of the other girls.

“God dammit,” you groan. “Can we make this quick, babe? I need you so badly.”

Gaeul flashes you a mischievous smirk, giving you a soft parting kiss before climbing out of your lap. “Don’t worry, cutie, we’ll get to have some fun sooner than you think.” You ogle at her hips as she sashays over to the door, unlocking it and smiling brightly at Wonyoung, Yujin, Liz, and Rei as they file through. You try to offer a similar smile, but with the aching in your jeans, you’re barely coherent enough to breathe properly.

“I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Gaeul exclaims, locking the door behind them.

“Of course!” Yujin replies. “You said you had an important announcement, so that means it’s important to us too!”

“Couldn’t you just text us though? And why is our manager here?” Rei asks, eyeing the two of you suspiciously. You nervously avert your gaze, looking towards Gaeul for support.

“Because he’s part of this and I wanted to show you guys something in person,” Gaeul explains. She takes a quick breath before continuing. “So, I’m sure you’re all aware of how much I’ve been complaining about not having a boyfriend, and-”

“Wah! You got a boyfriend!?” Liz exclaims, connecting the dots fairly quickly. “Who is it? Is it that one rookie that was staring at you during recording last week?”

“Ew, no,” she grimaces. “It’s actually someone all of you know very well.” Gaeul suddenly climbs onto your lap, planting a delicate kiss on your cheek. Normally, you would feel pretty nervous about doing something this vulgar in front of others, but her body heat combined with your raging hormones from your interrupted makeout session makes you completely forget about everyone else. A billion people could be watching and you would still let this gorgeous beauty do anything she wants to your body.

The girls applaud at Gaeul’s announcement, except for Wonyoung, who overdramatically rolls her eyes at the news. “You called us in to tell us this? It was so obvious you two were dating, you were practically attached at the hip for the past couple weeks.”

Gaeul chuckles, eyes darkening as she captures you with her gaze. “Actually, there’s something else I wanted to show you guys too.” Much to your dismay, she gets off of you and drags a chair some distance away from you, sitting down. “You see, our manager here is actually a bit of a freak.”

The girls stifle their laughter as they glance at you, causing your cheeks to burn with embarrassment and confusion. “U-um, babe? W-what are you-”

“I could’ve acted like some ‘ditzy little fuck doll’ and let him have his way with me,” Gaeul scoffs, disdain dripping in her tone. “But then I thought ‘Why should I let him have all the fun? Our dear manager is always bossing us around, so why don’t I take charge for once?’ Granted, it was a gamble, but it paid off sooo fucking well. Don’t you agree, baby?”

Your cheeks grow redder by the second as they all look at you expectantly. “I-I mean, yeah, I-I liked it-” Suddenly, a piece of fabric hits you in the face. You examine it in your hands, your eyes growing wide with shock as you realize what it is — Gaeul’s shirt.

The rest of her members cheer at her boldness while your heart pounds against your chest, tracing her silhouette with your hungry gaze. “Crawl,” she commands.

Your eyes dart nervously between her and the rest of the girls, desire and judgment warring in your mind. “B-b-but-”

“I didn’t say you could speak,” she spits, her eyes narrowing. “Now, be a good boy and fucking crawl.”

A flip switches in your brain as desire wins the war by a landslide. Any hint of embarrassment you once held is now gone, replaced by an overwhelming amount of lust. You fall to your hands and knees, ignoring the hollering from the other girls. To you, they don’t exist anymore. All that matters is satisfying your mistress in any way you can. 

Gaeul harshly grips your hair once you reach her, forcing you to stare into her eyes. The heat from her breath hits your face, driving you mad with want. You swear a glob of drool falls from your lip at the thought of getting to taste her sweet pussy again. 

She drags her thumb over your lips, smirking. “Tell them what you are,” she orders, turning your head towards her members. Wonyoung rests her head against her palm like she’d rather be somewhere else, while Yujin starts recording you with her phone, no doubt to hold it over your head if you inconvenience her later on. Liz stares at you, deeply flustered, yet a hint of jealousy in her eyes, and you notice Rei sneakily trying to touch herself, her face beet red with pent up arousal.

“I am mistress’s plaything. I live to satisfy her and her alone, no matter where or when she asks me to,” you state. Wonyoung mouths an impressed “Oh wow” at Gaeul before glancing at you with a hint of disgust in her eyes.

Your hair is yanked back towards your girlfriend. “Mmm, it’s cute just how pathetic you fucking look. I bet you want your reward now, don’t you?” She teases the hem of her shorts with her other hand, flashing a glimpse of her panties at you. You nod enthusiastically, ignoring the pain in your scalp while you pant like a dog with desperation.

“Y-yes, please. I want you so badly, mistress. I crave the taste of your sweetness,” you beg. She smirks at you before standing up and removing her shorts, leaving just the fabric of her panties to block you from the true prize within like a wrapper on a candy bar. Hastily, you move your hands to the hem of her panties, but she quickly swats them away.

“Use your teeth, you fucking dog,” she spits.

“Yes, mistress.” As you get closer to her heat, her scent wafts through your nose, sending your mind deeper into a frenzy. You bite down onto the hem and jerk your head downwards, quickly uncovering the object of your desire hiding underneath. With her panties hanging from your teeth, you look up at her in search of her approval.

“Damn, I wish my boyfriend was that obedient…” Liz mutters under her breath.

Gaeul gently cups your chin, smiling at you with a palpable desire in her eyes. You love that look. You want her to look at you like that all the time, even if it means humiliating yourself in front of the girl group that you are paid to take care of. You are her pet, her plaything, her good boy that does anything she wants.

“Lick my pussy, baby,” she whispers, commanding yet soft. She bites her lip as she watches your face inch closer and closer to her dripping core, glistening and beautiful. You run your tongue along her slit, gratefully lapping at her juices while your hands caress her slender thighs. Gaeul grinds her hips against your face, pulling at your hair every time you make contact with her clit.

“F-fuck yes!” she moans, forgetting about the audience that she brought along. “J-just like that… Such a good boy… K-keep fucking me with that tongue, oh fuck!”

The sound of her pleasure is your favorite song, but it gets harder to hear as her thighs clamp around your ears. No matter; you’re doing this for her and not for you, after all. Double your efforts to please her, work your fingers into her hole while you flick your tongue against her clit. Don’t worry about the cramping in your tongue or the lack of oxygen in your lungs. All the pain is worth it for your mistress.

You feel her entire body contract as her orgasm overtakes, nearly collapsing on top of you in the process. You do your best to support her body, all while drinking up her nectar like it’s the first drop of rainfall during a long drought. The familiar tanginess hits your tongue, a flavor that you crave more than the fancy dinner she treated you on your first night together.

“H-holy shit…” Gaeul stutters, holding onto your shoulders for support as she catches her breath. “Get on the chair… I-I wanna ride you…”

You notice her legs are still shaking underneath her. “A-are you sur-”

“I said get on the fucking chair!”

You quickly jump to your feet and do as you're told, subtly making sure Gaeul doesn’t fall over before moving from underneath her. She silently scorns you with a furious glare for not immediately following her orders. The rest of the girls watch with bated breath, not used to this side of her.

Gaeul makes quick work of your jeans and your boxers, roughly squeezing your shaft in between her fingers. “Are you gonna keep fucking disobeying me, or are you gonna follow my instructions like a good boy?” she whispers harshly into your ear.

You squirm underneath her grasp, the pain only turning you on even more. “I-I’ll be a good boy, mistress. I s-swear.”

“U-um…” Wonyoung nervously interjects. “Isn’t this a bit much, Gaeul? He looks like he’s in pain.”

Gaeul wraps her other hand around your neck, her palm pushing against your Adam's apple. You moan against her touch, enjoying the lightheadedness. “Don’t you like this, baby? Don’t you love being a good little dog for me?” She teases, slowly stroking your cock.

“Y-yes, I love it so much. I love being my mistress’s dog,” you say, your breath shivering.

Gaeul turns back to Wonyoung. “See? He likes it,” she states simply. Wonyoung concedes and sinks into her chair, continuing to watch the sick and twisted display of affection in front of her with faint but growing interest.

With that out of the way, Gaeul turns back to you and hops into your lap, teasing your tip by dragging it along her wet slit. “Do you want this pussy, baby? Do you want to fill it with your disgusting cock?” 

“Y-yes, mistress. I want you so badly.” Your skin crawls as jolts of electricity shoot through you with each slow drag of her lips. Any ounce of sanity you had left has completely turned into mush at this point. Despite your basest desires, you know better than to thrust into her without her permission. She has you right under her thumb, and any mistake could mean getting squashed without warning.

Her grip on your neck tightens. “Beg for it, bitch.”

“P-please… I-I need it… N-need you…” you manage to choke out, writhing under her grasp. She grins at you, shoving a messy kiss on your lips as she slams her hips down onto you. She rips a moan from deep within your chest as you grant her tongue free reign over yours, earning a hum of satisfaction in response. Her velvety walls grip onto your cock, squeezing any remaining energy you had left. You’re nothing more than a glorified dildo to be used by your merciful mistress.

Gaeul suddenly breaks the kiss, slapping you across the face. Blood rushes to your cheek, now marked red by her hand.

“Gaeul…!” Yujin gasps in shock. “Th-that’s-”

“Do it again!” you plead, silencing her concern. “P-please, mistress. Hit me again.”

Your mistress bites her lip at you, intensifying the gyration of her hips while blessing your cheeks with a frenzy of slaps. You grow dizzy with pain and pleasure, higher than any drug could ever take you. 

“T-take it, you fucking dog!” she moans, continuing her assault on your face as her second orgasm rapidly approaches. You feel your own quickly following suit and tap her thigh to warn her, but Gaeul instead wraps her arms around you, showing no signs of slowing down her hips.

“I-I’m safe today, b-baby,” she whispers into your ear, much more gentle than she usually is. “Y-you can c-cum in me if you want… I f-fucking love you…”

The walls of her gorgeous pussy squeeze your shaft as she squirts onto your cock. You follow her soon after, covering her insides with your cum for the first time ever, clinging onto Gaeul’s delicate body. Your mind floats around in pure ecstasy, a feeling you never want to let go of. Gaeul lazily kisses on your neck as she recovers from her high.

“I… love you… too,” you breathlessly mutter before falling victim to exhaustion and collapsing against the chair. Gaeul climbs off of your lap and collects her discarded clothing off the ground, stumbling with each step.

“Well… that was interesting to say the least,” Yujin says after a long silence, finishing the recording on her phone.

“Send me that video later, that was really hot…” Rei whispers to her.

“Um, is he gonna be okay?” Liz asks. “I’m pretty sure we have a schedule tomorrow.”

Gaeul looks over to your now sleeping form and smiles with adoration. She kisses your reddened cheek, careful not to wake you. “He’ll be fine, I’m pretty sure,” she assures them.

Wonyoung stands up from her seat. “I’m glad you found a good… boytoy, or whatever you call him,” she says, patting Gaeul’s shoulder before leaving the meeting room. The rest of the girls follow suit, leaving Gaeul alone with you as she waits for you to wake up.

She slides a chair next to you and plants another gentle kiss on your cheek before sitting. “Good boy~” she whispers delicately, resting her head on your shoulder.

[snowblossomreads]

Verse Three: The Only Solution Was To Stand And Fight

Previous Chapter: I'm Already On My Knees

Summary: In where [Y/n] learns that even if she does fight, there would only be one outcome.

Pairing: Severus Snape x FemReader

Warning(s): !!NON CON/RAPE!!, Forced Oral (fem receiving), Forced Orgasm, Slapping (And not of the face kind..🙃), Sexual Assault, Brief Disassociation, Brief Mention of Not Eating, Physical Abuse, Restraints, Brief Choking, Some Violence?, Angst, Mentions of Wanting to be Dead (not suicide though if that makes sense?)

Word Count: 10.4K (Oh she thicc)

A/N: It keeps getting longer and darker. Thanks to all the folks who have come back to read the third part of this! This one definitely is longer than I intended it to be as I guess because there is kinda some plot in it?? Anyways as always let me know if you see any mistakes and how you feel about this. I'll see you at the end!

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY PLEASE

He hadn’t touched her again after that initial night much to her relief. But he did throw her in a bedroom upstairs, not even coming to bring her food. Instead, each meal would appear on the desk of the little table that was against the wall under a window.

At first, she couldn’t bring herself to eat, her stomach too tight with anxiety to even think of anything that wasn’t related to what would happen to her if no one came for her. Also, how could she even think about trusting anything he gave to her considering-

The reminiscent thought was quickly pushed down to the back of her mind just like the bile she had to push down in her throat when she remembered what had happened.

So for the first two days, she found herself barely able to move out of the bed that was pushed to the far corner of the room. Every time she would awaken from a restless sleep that she hadn’t realized she had fallen into, she would hope that everything that had happened was just a dream.

That when she opened her eyes, she would be at home in her warm bed surrounded by the familiar walls of her own bedroom. Hell, she would give up a limb just for her mom to burst into her room before sunrise to wake her up entirely too early like she was prone to doing.

However, each time she hoped, each time she was disappointed and she would always curl into herself again when she realized she was not home. It was the only sort of comfort she could find as she let quiet sobs rack her. 

Though after the third day of her bones aching, pleading for her to get up for more than a short bathroom break, and her stomach begging her to eat more than the little scraps she finally decided to take, something seemed to snap.

A sudden wave of tranquil fury washed over her and within seconds her entire being was being consumed with a burning feeling that prickled at her skin and made her shake with anger. The energy that had been sapped from her seemed to come rushing back as she could hear the loud jeers of her mind asking why the hell she was just sitting waiting for something to happen. 

Even if the Ministry knew she was missing it didn’t matter because something told her they weren’t going to find her considering who she was currently with. There would be a time to grieve what had happened only if she was alive to do so. So the solution, as simple as it may sound, was to stand up and fight even if fear wanted to take root in her soul at the very thought of the consequences that may happen. She was an Auror for Merlin’s sake; she could at least do this.

Flying out of the bed and invigorated with this sudden burst of energy that was being filled because of her outrage at the situation, her first thought was to try and unlock the door with a spell. Simple, easy, and even though the chances of it working were low it was something.

She didn’t have her wand with her as it was taken when she had been captured but a little unlocking spell was easy enough for her to do without it so she tried. To no surprise, it didn’t work, she didn’t expect it to. But what did catch her off guard, was her magic seemed to have been utterly sealed as well. 

Even trying to summon a wandless spark that was occasionally used for a backup signal with Aurors was no use and she landed on the fact that the home must have been charmed to prevent others from using magic in it. How curious.

Regardless, it was still frustrating and she found herself pacing back and forth in the room thinking of anything else she could do to get out of that place. The dilemma though was that she needed to get by him without using magic. And even then it was still a daunting task as while she couldn’t use it surely he could and would. How else would her meals be appearing day in and day out? It was a deterrent but still, she had to try and get out of this hell.

And so a plan began to brew in her mind. If she could just get out of the house, the moment she stepped outside she would be able to apparate away from the place so that she could alert the Ministry to what had happened. All she would need to do is get his attention and then when he least expected it rush him and then make a beeline to the door. 

It was another simple plan. A little too simple for her liking but oftentimes it was the uncomplicated solutions that fared better than anything intricate. Plus no one ever really thinks about those until the end so maybe he wouldn’t either?

‘You got this [Y/n]. Just make a commotion, rush him and get out.’ 

Easy enough.

With that in mind, she took a deep breath and let out a deafening screech so much so she felt her voice waver a little. She also began to jump up and down causing the planked floor to protest under her weight each time she landed on the ground. The only time she would stop was to catch her breath before she started up again. 

Over and over she did this, going on for so long that she was sure she would be hoarse afterwards, but it would be a small price to pay for freedom.

Going on for a while she was about to call it quits because there seemed to be no sign that he had even heard her. Maybe he had charmed the place to even be soundproof and if that was so she was just jumping and screaming like a lunatic for no reason.

That thought was quickly thrown to the wayside when she took another breath and was about to start her racket up again but was interrupted by the doorknob jingling as it twisted open. 

The door came flying open with such force that she was sure had it been flung open any harder it would have fallen off its hinges by the way it smacked into the wall behind it.

But there standing underneath the door frame was a very pissed off looking Snape. Gritted teeth and furrowed eyebrows glared at her before he bore down on her, taking only three large strides before he was towering over her. The scowl that he wore deepened as he leaned down towards her, narrowing the space between the two as his eyes flashed with irritation. 

While she wanted to pull away and shrink under his intense gaze, she kept focus, trying to remind herself why she was doing this. She only had one chance, and she couldn't mess this up. 

“And what is the meaning of this racket?” His voice was no higher than a whisper yet the malice in it was clear as he glared at her. “Do you think anyone outside will hear you? Because I can assure you they will not.”

“No, because as dimwitted as you think I am, I’m aware that they won’t hear me,” she replied not averting her gaze but standing her ground even as she felt her voice trying to shake and betray her. 

Hands balling into tight fists, she took a deep breath and stepped back making it seem as if she was backing down from him and making herself smaller when she dropped her head. 

“But it wasn’t meant for them to hear.”

No sooner had the statement left her lips, her head snapped back up and with all the strength she had in herself, she lunged at him. If he had been expecting it he didn’t show it, though if she was paying attention she would have seen his eyes widen for a split second when he felt her crashing into him knocking them both down on the ground.

They fell with a loud ‘thud’ both letting out a grunt as she fell on top of him while his back hit the ground hard. She had no time to waste ignoring the dull pain that the impact against him caused as she was busy scrambling up from her position and running for the door.

While she was fast, he wasn’t far behind her, quickly regaining his composure, scrambling up from the floor, and shouting at her.

“You - Stupefy!”

A flash of red light filled her peripheral as he sent the spell flying at her. She could hear it whizz by her head the moment she had cleared the doorway and turned to run towards the staircase. 

Even though it missed her it did make contact with the wall causing shards of wood to splinter and fly at her. She kept running though not looking back not even when she heard him bellowing at her.

“Come back here! Do you think you can escape me in my own house?”

‘I can at least try.’

Was the only thought she had as she reached the staircase and began to sprint down it ignoring his shouts and ducking each time she felt a spell fly her way. Maybe all that Auror training was helpful considering the situation. Granted she wouldn’t be in this position if she wasn’t an Auror in the first place. 

That argument could wait though as when she finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, she wildly looked around trying to spot where the entrance to the house was. 

She took in that in front of her led to a room that she had not been in nor cared to be in, and then to her right led back to what looked like the sitting room she had been in for a short time. So that meant the entrance was actually behind the staircase. 

With the sound of heavy footsteps nearing her, she had no time to turn back and circled around the staircase. Her eyes almost bulged out of her skull when she saw that down the hall was indeed the entrance.

No thoughts were present in her mind other than the one that was screaming at her to ‘get out’ as she sprinted to the door hand outstretched and reaching out for the door. Her legs were burning and so was her heaving chest as she was only mere feet from the door and she was almost there, almost!

“Wormtail!”

Snape’s voice boomed right behind her and then right to her side another's voice high pitched and squeaky shouted, 

“Incarcerous!”

Fingers brushed against the handle of the door momentarily and it gave her a taste of freedom that she had been running towards. But before she could even turn the handle, the freedom she had envisioned was being yanked back just as she was by the force of the spell that had begun to bind her hands and legs together. 

A yell of anguish was ripped from her already hoarse throat as she tumbled onto her back, her shoulders smacking into the floor with a loud ‘thud’. Pain radiated throughout her upper body as a silent gasp involuntary passed through her lips when her back met the floor. She lay as still as possible trying to gain her breath again as tears began to prick at the corner of her eyes at the sound of nearing footsteps. 

If he wasn’t planning on killing her before he may as well be now after the little stunt she had just pulled. Expecting Snape to be the one to come and drag her up from the floor, she was met with a stout looking man who from what she could tell from her position on the floor had thin brown hair along with a bald spot it seemed.

“Well hello, there,” the same squeaky voice that had sent the curse at her came out of him as he leered at her with beady eyes. 

There was something in the way that he looked at her that somehow made her more uncomfortable than Snape’s stare. It was unnerving and she was quick to turn her head away from him averting his gaze  

“I was wondering when I would be seeing Snape’s-.”

“Step aside Wormtail.” 

He was quickly interrupted by Snape stomping past him, almost shoving the smaller man to the ground. Letting out a grunt, Wormtail retreated back to the living area leaving [Y/n] to face her punishment.

“Stupid girl, tell me how far do you think you would get without your wand hm?”

Sneering at her form, he leaned down and grabbed at the collar of her shirt before hauling her up from the ground into a sitting position. A choked cry left her throat as the fabric wrapped around her neck momentarily constricting her airways while tearing into her skin from the force he was putting behind his action.   

“Do you think you would be able to slip right out the door and apparate away? Was that it?”

He mocked, yanking harder on the shirt as he dragged her up not caring if the fabric tore as he forced her thrashing body up from the ground. Even with tied arms, she tried to scramble up from her awkward position, not wanting to be choked even more as he pulled her into a standing position.

“Let go of me you- agh!”

The hand on her shirt was pulled away before she found his fingers painfully squeezing her cheeks. A glare was evident in his dark eyes that bored into her and the sneer he wore deepened as he jerked her face closer to his eliciting a sharp cry.

“Listen to me because I will not repeat myself again,” he hissed, digging his digits deeper into her skin causing her to wince at the pain. “The next time you decide to try such foolishness will be the last time you ever do anything, do you understand?”

There was a moment of hesitation as he stared at her awaiting her concession that he knew she would give. It didn’t take long before she nodded weakly, her form deflating as she gave her answer. But a little nod was not enough for him.

“I want you to say it.” He growled, teeth slightly bared between his lips. 

There was no way he was serious right? He was though, as she found out when she felt his fingers dig deeper into her skin no doubt leaving nail shaped indents on the area before she stuttered out a high pitched,

“I-I understand.” 

“Understand what?”  

She winced again at the tightening of his fingers around her cheek before she shakily let out,

“I understand sir.”

The sneer he wore morphed into a slight frown as his hand dropped from her face and without a word, the binds on her legs disappeared leaving her with the ability to walk again. Her arms and hands were still bound to the front of her which told her he didn’t fully believe what she was saying. And well she did just try to escape so it was a fair assessment.

“Better.”

Grabbing her bound hands he began to walk her back down the hall, up the stairs, and back into the room she had been wasting away in. She didn’t protest and she didn’t make a sound as he led her back to the bed and practically sat her down on it.  Not saying a word he turned around and began to make his way out.  

Wait, her arms were still tied up and he wouldn’t just leave her like that right?

“Wait!”

Stopping under the door frame, he turned his upper body slightly towards her, giving her a blank stare.

“What.”

Bringing her arms up she nodded at the bound appendages before asking,

“At least…at least untie me, please?”

The blank expression he wore didn’t falter a bit at the question.

“I think not, consider it as a lesson in obedience.”

“Wait-”

He didn’t turn back this time to listen to her pleas. Instead, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him before a loud ‘click’ followed signaling the lock on the door had been turned. Staring ahead of her where he was just at, [Y/n] quietly sat letting all the thoughts and fears come crashing down on her.

If she hadn’t been in trouble the moment she stepped foot in this place she really was now. And so she did what anyone would do when trapped in an impossible situation. Scream. 

From the sunlight, or lack thereof, that filtered through the room, she had to guess that at least a few hours had passed since her failed attempt to escape. After said escape attempt, she paced the room for a bit trying to see if there was anything that could help her unbind the ropes but of course, there wouldn’t be. Why would he leave an item that could help her escape seeing that she was prone to doing so?

After a while, she had given up, throwing herself back onto the bed curling up in the corner, and letting herself sob once again. Between this morning's chaos and her body finally coming down from the adrenaline, she hadn’t even realized she had fallen asleep until her eyes opened to a dim room.  

She must have been out for a while considering the low lighting, and the way her bladder had begun to protest which must have woken her. Stretching her limbs, [Y/n] turned around and scooted her way to the edge of the bed before uprighting herself. Getting to her feet she was about to make her way to the ensuite bathroom before it dawned on her. 

Her hands were still bound and while sure she could probably manage. She did not want to. And so began another yelling session.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?”  She called out hoping to get someone's attention.

“I know you’re down there so, please! I need to go to the bathroom!” 

Being only met with silence both times, a frustrated cry left her before she began to stomp on the floor like a child having a tantrum. The furious movement was not doing any favors to her bladder though and she decided to cease in case she made her body protest more.

“Anyone! Please!”

Her voice cracked as she called out one more time waiting for an answer but when none came, a sigh passed her lips before resigning to having to struggle just to use the bathroom. What should she have expected considering her little stunt earlier?

About to make her way across the room, the sound of the door knob jingling stopped her in her tracks and she turned to look at the door. 

“Hello?”

Expecting to see Snape when the door opened, she couldn’t help but be taken aback when it was revealed to be the stout balding man that she had seen earlier. 

“We meet again so soon [Y/n].”

He squeaked out approaching her with that same slimy expression that he wore earlier. To say it made her uncomfortable was an understatement as she backed up a little with each step forward that he made.

“Where is Snape?”

“Busy,” he answered all too quickly as he stood in front of her. “But he did send me to supervise you.”

“Supervise?”

“Yes, now let me help you-”

Reaching out to grab her tied hands, he was met with [Y/n] yanking her arms close to her body, a wary gaze in her eyes. 

“Don’t!”

The words came out much sharper than she had intended to and for a second they both seemed to be surprised at the ferocity of the command as they stood frozen in their spots. Whether it be the way he kept leering at her or just the fact that he seemed to be working with Snape, there was an incredibly menacing aura that seemed to radiate around this man regardless of his stature. 

It didn’t take long for him to compose himself, a nasty grin playing at his lips as he looked her up and down, slowly examining the bound woman in front of him

“Don’t?” he questioned, his hand still hovering over the spot her own hands were at a moment ago. “Weren’t you just the one making a racket just now? I could leave you tied up, you know?”

Making a move as if he was about to turn around she quickly remembered her unfortunate predicament of bound hands and a bladder that kept protesting. Eyes widening at this, she outstretched her tied hands once more as panic flew through her. 

“Wait!” 

Her exclamation was met with an uneasy silence that settled in the air between them. But for [Y/n] there was the buzzing sound of blood racing in her that filled her burning ears. For a moment, it seemed as if he was still going to leave her in her tied up predicament. But then slowly, she watched as his eyes trailed up, and down her form as if he was inspecting her.  It took everything in her to not shrink at his gaze but she didn’t and as if she had won some silent challenge, he turned back around to her.

Taking his wand out his sleeve much too slowly, and too smoothly for such a simple action, she found her gaze finally averting from the pointed one that Wormtail was giving. A little shiver traveling up her body at the way he seemed to study her.

Even so, he does what he was sent up to do, and the ropes that have been digging into her skin vanish to her great relief as her wrists begin to throb at the sudden freedom.

Bringing one hand over the other and rubbing the raw skin, she winced when her digits touched the hot skin in hopes of soothing the angry area. Her Relief is short-lived though as Wormtail interrupts her with his squeaky voice that has her ear ringing at the pitch.

“Come on now don’t dally I don't have all day.”

A look of confusion flitted across her face at his statement as she wasn’t expecting him to stay in the room with her. Wasn’t his job just to untie her and leave her be? Not really wanting to question him in fear of being tied up again though, she nodded her head wordlessly and made her way to the bathroom.

Once the door was firmly shut behind her, she found her back hitting the wood of the door as her shoulders sagged. It took everything in her not to just slide down on the cool tiles of the floor relieved to be out of the presence of the man on the opposite side of the door. 

But her body is quick to remind her why she is here and before she can just sink onto the floor, she just lets out a sigh before doing what she came for. 

After reliving her angry bladder another sigh, one of relief, passed her lips as she let warm water run over hands. The warmth on her sore skin, no matter how trivial it seemed, was soothing and it somehow calmed the anxious bubble in her gut.

With the sound of rushing water filling the air, it was just one moment where she didn’t have to think about the predicament she was still in. Though as she finished up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that sat right above the sink. 

Hand right above the faucet knob going to turn it off, she couldn’t help but stare at herself in the mirror. Even though it had been less than a week, her face looked unbelievably haggard, from her eyes that just seemed lifeless, to how dull her skin was from not being able to even have fresh air touch it. 

And then there was the remnant of skin that had split on her lips from her biting at the soft flesh that second day she had been there. It was when she had been in the absolute throws of terror, replaying over and over what had happened the day  before and thinking about what could happen. It was almost like a terrible fever dream that would not end. 

As those thoughts passed through her mind, she subconsciously began to lift a damp hand to her face. A wince crossed her features as she placed it on her cheek which was still sore from the rough treatment Snape had dealt her hours ago. Damp fingertips gently stroked the skin, a sort of self soothing as a lump began to swell in her throat and she felt her eyes begin to water at the sight of herself. 

“You’ll be okay.” Her voice was small, pacifying almost, as she turned the faucet off while continuing to stare at the woman she saw back in the mirror. “You have to be okay.” 

It was a mantra she repeated to herself over and over as heavy limbs began to make their way to the door that would lead her back to what was essentially her prison. With a deep breath, she opened it and stepped back into the room where Wormtail was indeed still standing waiting for her.

Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to have been much too concerned about her reemergence from the bathroom as she watched him examine the room with great curiosity. It was strange considering how bare it was and lacking anything of great value. She brushed this oddity off, walking a little further into the room.

Though, when his eyes turned its focus back on her and she saw the gleaming in them, the apprehension in her gut from earlier suddenly burst forth again with greater intensity. It was for a good reason too. Her eyes landed on the closed door to the bedroom before it fell on the wand that was still in his hand. But it had the same effect of causing her to try to scramble back into the bathroom. 

However she was much too slow, and before she could even make it to the doorway of the bathroom the wand was aimed right at her again.

“Incarcerous!”

Thick pieces of rope appeared in an instant at the shout of the spell and they began to wrap around her midsection crushing her arms to her side causing a loud shriek to be ripped from her. The unexpected force of the spell sent her tumbling almost face first onto the floor which she is only saved from by the sudden appearance of Wormtail who had grabbed hold of the ropes from behind her.

“What the hell! Let go of me!”  Her voice went up an octave as she thrashed around in his grip not caring if he dropped her at that point as she just wanted his hands off of her. 

Her yells of protest are ignored as he doesn’t seem at all fazed by her struggling form. And before she knew it she was being dragged up from the floor and harshly thrown onto the bed face down. Head hitting the mattress with such force, that it bounced back a little, she found herself dazed for a moment as a dull ache bloomed in her face.

Neither the pain nor her restrained arms kept her from scrambling as much as she could to flip herself over as the position made her feel too vulnerable with the man right behind her. Finally managing to turn herself over and almost out of breath, she is just in time to witness the stout wizard begin to climb onto the bed with a hungry look that sickens her stomach and has tears welling in her eyes.

“Did you think that after that little stunt you pulled there weren’t going to be consequences?” He crooned at her as he began to slowly crawl over to her. 

With each move he made towards her, she scooted quickly back to the other side of the bed trying to get away from him. But the bed was only so big and with it being tucked away in a corner, she has also effectively cornered herself. And it wasn’t until she hit the wall and realized she’s cornered herself did true panic settle in. That panic became his opening as he suddenly rushed towards her pouncing on her vulnerable frame.

“GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF!”

The intensity of the shriek caused her voice to crack in mid yell as she thrashed under the man as he tried to hold her still to do whatever he had intended to do to her. It was stupid to think that her just yelling at him would have done anything to make him reconsider but it was all she had at that point as she continued to struggle under his weight. 

“Now now! I thought we could come to a compromise!” 

He gloated excitedly as grubby hands shout out and grabbed her chin rough holding her face still. A shout of discomfort left her lips as that familiar pain of being grabbed like that was very fresh and she was still sore from an earlier bout of that same action.

“How about a kiss then I think that’s a fair price don’t you?”

She wanted to vomit at his question as she pushed her head back into the mattress as much as she could to try and get away. But when she couldn’t go any further and she saw his lips about to descend on hers she did the first thing that came to her mind. Spit at him. The liquid landed right on his cheek  before it began to slowly drip down his face and it seemed to freeze him for a second not expecting to be spat at. He seemed genuinely surprised at this as he pulled away from her slowly, his hand going to where the spit had landed before wiping it off. 

For a second he looked at his hand as if he was examining it before his eyes turned back to her. And she could see that the surprise had been wiped off  along with the liquid and fury was its replacement. 

“You little bitch!” 

His hand raised, and she swiftly turned her head to avoid the blow that was coming, letting out a terrified scream at the same time. But the blow didn’t come; instead, it was the uncharacteristically booming voice of Snape that rang in her ears. And he sounded pissed.

“Wormtail!”

Even with her eyes closed, she could see the imprint of red sparks flying, feel the presence of the man who was above her disappear, and hear the loud thud of a body hit the floor followed by a groan of pain. When she finally decided to open her eyes to investigate the scene in front of her, she is only met with Snape eyeing her. She knows that she is trembling and she is sure her eyes are red with unshed tears from everything that has happened. And for a second she sees rage cross his dark eyes before they are quickly diverted to the cowering man on the floor. Watching him kneel down, she craned her body forward a little as somehow her curiosity was still alive and well while adrenaline rushed through her body.

“What did I tell you Wormtail?”

The words dripped with venom as Snape grabbed the quivering man by the collar practically yanking him up from the floor as he had done to her earlier that day. For a second a thought crossed her mind about how his strength didn’t match up with his stature but the thought was quickly shelved when Wormtail spoke, or at least tried to. 

“Sir-”

He was promptly shut down by Snape who wore a sneer so deep she was sure he was close to baring his teeth at the man who was now eye level with him.

“Did I tell you you could touch what is mine?” He growled out as the shorter man shrunk in his grip. “Touch what was given to me by the Dark Lord.”

“No, but I-”

“Exactly.” Snape hissed, interrupting again and not letting Wormtail get in one word extra than what Snape wanted to hear from him. “Yet what do I find? Ms.[L/ n] screaming and your filthy dirty little hands on her.”

“I’m s-so so-sorry it won’t happen again.” 

“No, It will not, now leave.”  

Scrambling up from the floor as soon as he was allowed to, Wormtail made a beeline to the wide opened door as Snape rose slowly from the ground watching the retreat of the smaller man. The sound of his withdrawal is audible and it is not until he reaches the bottom of the stairs where [Y/n] can no longer hear him, does she feel the sudden weakness in her limbs as adrenaline tapers off.

Tears that were present in her eyes threatened to spill as she balled herself up into the corner of the bed as she has done countless times since she has been here. She no longer cared that her hands were still bound nor did she pay attention to the other man in the room who was quietly observing her. All she wanted was to be left alone at this point as it seemingly was the only way she was going to have any sort of peace.

Maybe she should have let Snape kill her that night. Because at least she wouldn’t have to face the torment and humiliation being forced onto her. 

But he hadn’t. And when she felt his hand on her lower back suddenly, she couldn’t help the way her body jerked away from his touch as if anything about him caused an automatic response to get away. Surprisingly though and completely opposite of what she thought he would do considering what he had already done, she felt the limb retreat from her form. And as much as she wanted to be relieved about this, his presence still caused a tumultuous feeling to bury itself deep in her.

“I’m sorry if what happened has caused you some…,” he hesitated as if he was pondering his word choice before settling on, “distress it was not my intention.”

Not his intention?

If she had been in a less perilous situation she would have laughed at the audacity of his words and how dismissive they were. The pure irony of what he was saying seemed to be lost on him but it was very much not lost on her as she clenched her teeth, fire biting at her exhausted soul from the insincere words. She wanted to scoff at him the second the comment came out of his mouth but considering her position she thought better of it.

Instead, she made no move to turn around in hopes he would just leave when he didn’t receive a response from her. But he did not, whereas something else did. The pressure around her midsection suddenly vanished and gone were the bindings that were cramping her arms against her side. With the ropes gone, it also allowed her to breathe in more deeply without the discomfort of having something tighter than a corset wrapped around oneself.

At first, not completely sure what to do, she crossed her arms tightly around her chest as if she was protecting herself. When she felt his hand return directly to her lower back, no longer obstructed by rope, she made no indication that she felt him even though she could feel the hair on her arms and neck stand at the sensation. And for a second she wondered if he would just leave her with the little apology that she was unreceptive to. But then his voice, low and quiet as usual, filled the space again.

“I only asked him to assist in your needs as you were making quite a racket. Whatever else he was up to was his own doing.”  

She was sure it was the dismissiveness of his words that set her brain whirling with sarcastic comments of, ‘oh really’, or ‘of course, that’s what you would say’. Did he really think for a second she would believe him and happily go along with his little apology, if you could even call it that. As all  he was really doing was passing blame on to someone else.

Sure he may not have told Wormtail to tie her up and attempt to assault her, but considering his own treatment of her the words he spoke held no value to her. So much so that apparently even her exhausted mind had had enough of the game he was playing with her. It was foolish honestly to antagonize your captor who was very much capable of making things worse, but it seemed like her mouth hadn’t gotten that message because before she realized it,

“Stop it.” 

The command was barely audible, almost muffled as her back was turned to him and her face rested on the mattress. But he had heard her if the furrow of his brows was an indicator. 

“Excuse me?” 

His eyes narrowed as he watched her form slowly begin to unfurl itself from its curled position. Her arms that she had wrapped around her had dropped in favor of helping her push herself up slowly on the bed. Once in a sitting position with her legs drawn close to her, she lifted her head until her eyes were settled on his own.

Dissatisfaction and annoyance glimmered clearly in his eyes and she was sure he could see a spark of a glare forming in her gaze. Had she been more alert and less hurt and less angry she would have never dared to have a go at this man but she was all of those things and more.

“You heard me.” She snapped back smacking the bed below her causing it to vibrate a little at the impact. 

Snape’s eyes grew wide for a second as if he was surprised at her outburst, but it was quickly replaced with a menacingly looking sneer.

“I don’t think I did. Maybe you should speak more clearly.” He hissed out, his reply low and dangerous as he turned his angled body completely towards her. “Do enlighten me on what you mean. 

It wasn’t an invitation she should have been so eager to accept and the look he was giving her was making her second guess her words. She really should have stayed quiet. Listened to her gut when it was telling her not to talk back to a man who had already shown what he was capable of doing. The rational part of her brain was telling her to stop. But the exhausted, furious, humiliated side of her was telling her to keep it up because at least she would be able to say her piece and feel better damn the consequences. And say her piece she did. 

“Stop acting as if you are sorry! Like you have any type of remorse for what happened because wasn’t it you who brought me here and refused to let me go?” 

Each word she shrieked out seemed to be at a higher pitch than the last and she could feel the spit fly out of her mouth as the anger and frustration came to a head. 

“Who in this room is working for a maniac that thinks it’s okay to murder people and then give others away like they are his property!” She continued hitting the bed with balled fists while ignoring the blistering glare he shot at her. “Who was it that threatened to KILL me and then dragged me halfway across the room by my hair and, a-and.” 

The words caught in her throat at the memory and she choked as her vision became blurry by the tears that had finally begun to flow down her cheeks. Her tears somehow made her more furious as she began to swipe wildly at her face trying to wipe them away with such ferocity she was sure she would injure herself in the process. Though it would never compare to the damage that had been dealt to her by the hands of others, especially the person sitting in front of her.

Burning with the rage and pain that had been simmering inside her and pulsing through her veins she wiped her face once more clearing her vision. And then she just stared at the man in front of her. Took in the familiar menacing look he was giving her. It was the same one he had given her the first night. A silent dare to continue. To say what she wanted only if she had the guts and appetite for what may happen. 

“I don’t want your damn apology.” She spoke quietly, her voice leveled and no longer holding that same hysterical tone as it did before. Eyes not breaking away from that daring gaze, she accepted the silent challenge and finished.

“Because you’re the same. And as sick as the rest of them.”

For a second, after the words had fallen from her lips, she braced herself for anything knowing that she had more than crossed that proverbial line in the sand. Though when that anything didn’t come, and she found Snape just staring at her from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed, she didn’t quite know what to do. 

Was he thinking about all the ways he could kill her at this point? Because it would be fair and honestly it would put them both out of their misery. She wasn’t a fan of that nor was she a fan of any other ideas that slowly began to make their way through her mind. But she didn’t have to ponder over it much longer as she watched the man begin to get up from the bed as if he was leaving. She may have cheered internally as she watched him turn his back on her and take a step towards the door as if he was leaving. But he only took one step before,

“We’re the same, are we Ms. [Y/n]?” Any cheering stopped immediately the moment he asked the question that required no response from her.

There was a change in his voice. It was much quieter…colder than his already hush way of speaking and she physically shivered at his words. The room felt like it had dropped twenty degrees and for some reason, that quietness seemed more dangerous than the sneering and yelling he had done before. 

“Sick like the rest of them is that right?” 

“I-.”

Was the only syllable she was able to form before he turned around, wand drawn and a wicked smirk on his features directed at her. There wasn’t time for her to process and panic fully when she felt rope wrap around her right wrist and begin to drag her upwards toward the middle of the bed with such force she thought it would break her wrist.

“Stop!” 

She wailed as pain bloomed in her arm only for the plea to be met with more rope appearing around the opposite wrist and pinning it against the headboard. 

Her right arm met the same fate of being tied against her left one and she could feel the rough material of rope wrapping around her ankles pulling her legs apart. Kicking and struggling against it to stop it from tying her down was the only thing she could do. But it was quickly wearing her out and before she knew it she was sitting up barely propped up by the headboard with her legs pinned down and spread open. It was mortifying, and humiliating, to be in this position as she felt the flames of shame begin to lick at her soul. 

Too distressed about being bound again, [Y/n] hadn’t realized that Snape had made his way toward the bed during her struggle. So when the mattress dipped down from his weight, her head snapped towards him, eyes full of fear as he languidly crept towards her.

It was as if he enjoyed how she continued to shake and shrink against the bed with each move toward her knowing she couldn’t move away. He kept inching closer and closer and she kept trying to pull her face away from him but there was nowhere to go eventually. And before long he was face to face with her his body basically above her as felt his weight on her as he straddled her. 

She could feel the warmth of his breath tickling her skin as he leaned down to her side, his nose bumping into her skin as he began to drag the tip of his nose up from her jawline. The contact had her trembling, goosebumps prickling her skin, and a silent whimper escaping her lips as she felt the light touch travel up leaving a tingling feeling on the skin in his path. 

Slowly he made his way to her ear, stopping briefly once or twice to leave a brief feathery kiss against her skin. It was off-putting how gentle the kiss was. That kind of kiss was reserved for a lover. Someone you held affection for and she was neither which fueled the tightening of her stomach as she felt his lips blowing warm air against her ear. It tickled her skin and brought her out of her thoughts in time for her to hear him speak.

“If that’s what you insist on believing,” he murmured into her ears, his voice silky as the sound of it caused her ears to pulsate and her to shudder at the seductiveness of his tone. “Let’s at least validate your little belief shall we?”

Grabbing her chin he yanked her face closer towards him and her lips were pursued from the pressure. Her eyes widened and her lips opened to protest. But any sound she wanted to make was swallowed when he swooped down and smashed their lips together silencing her. The sudden force had a noisy sound coming from her throat before she began thrashing around trying to get him away from her. It was unsuccessful of course and he continued the assault on her lips. 

The wet sounds of the kiss, the feeling of his lips pressed harshly against hers and the swiping of his tongue against her skin had her stomach clenching painfully tight. She felt like all the air in her had been sucked away, her lungs burning as she tried to hold her breath not wanting to give him the satisfaction but most of all she wanted him off of her right then and there. So when he went to press his lips against hers once more, her lips parted as if she was accepting him, before biting down on him hard. 

Hard enough to draw blood as the metallic taste of the liquid flooded her taste buds. A grunt fell from him as he ripped away from her, his eyebrows furrowed as reached up toward his stinging lips. Swiping at the broken skin, wiping away the liquid that was oozing out he brought his stained fingers up to eye level to examine them. For a man who had been quick to lash out at her before he was strangely calm about being bitten.

“I see now,” he mumbled, eyes lighting up as if he suddenly had an epiphany about the situation. Hand going to wipe his mouth once more he leveled a pointed stare at her that for a moment made it feel like he was worming his way through her mind. 

“If you wanted it rough, it’s more polite to ask.”

A dumbfounded look flew across her features before she was yelping at the roughness with which his lips attacked hers again. Sucking at her lower lip and sweeping his tongue messily against the flesh he massages the skin before suddenly scraping his teeth against it. And then just as she had done to him, his teeth sink into the soft unexpecting flesh.

“Agh!”

A shrill cry of pain is drawn from her lips and it causes her to part them just enough that she feels the slickness of his tongue plundering her open mouth. Trying to push back, his hand quickly shoots up fingers wrapping around her neck squeezing it in a warning telling her to not move. The single action sends shivers up and down her body immediately.

Sparks of fear bloom in the pit of her stomach at the light pressure around her neck that only allows so much oxygen in her lungs as Snape drinks the rest of it from her. His tongue is exploring her mouth, licking, tangling with, and coaxing her own tongue as the taste of iron fills her senses. 

But to her horror, fear isn’t the only thing that is blooming within her as she feels an ache that is trying to rear its head in the pit of her stomach. She doesn’t have time to dwell on it because he is pulling away from her, his fingers still wrapped lightly around her neck as he drinks in the sight of her. A twisted grin is evident on his reddened lips as he examines what she can only assume is her disheveled form. 

The blood on her lips from him, or even her, paints the skin and she can feel the pulsing of how swollen they are from the violent way he had kissed her. Her chest is heaving as she tries to swallow in the air around her and she feels sweat beading on her forehead. And she can feel something else that makes her nauseous. 

She can feel him. 

“So beguiling even as you are now,” he murmurs, leaning down and leaving a trail of burning kisses down her neck. 

Each contact has her swallowing, as his tongue peaks out to taste the essence of fear that is mingled with the sweat on her skin. Fingers that are still wound around her neck began to unlatch themselves only to slowly follow the trail that his lips had left. His touch is feathery gliding over the damp skin of her neck until it’s resting right above the swell of her clothed breast. He was unhurried with his action unlike before. 

The movements were slow…calculated. And if it would have been with someone she desired, she would have almost described it as erotic the way he was touching her. But he isn’t who she wants, even if she can feel her body begin to respond favorably to his touches. Their eyes meet once more and with a weak glare she rasps out with what little fire she has left in her,

“Go to hell.” 

He only raises an eyebrow before he is grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up along with her bra pinning it right below her neck with one hand. A gasp leaves her as she feels the cold air swirling around her nipples causing them to ache and harden as they are exposed. The cool air is quickly replaced with Snape’s warm mouth as he latches his lips around one of the buds, sucking harshly at it and lapping at the sensitive skin.

She battles to hold in the moan that is quick to bubble in her throat as she feels his tongue flicking and swirling around the bud. And she knows he can tell that she is holding something in because he begins to suck harder, groaning around the skin causing it to blister with goosebumps.

There is an ache that begins to take over her body as he sucks and massages her while his free hand roams up from her stomach until it is rolling the other nipple between its fingers. He pinches and pulls at the sensitive nub causing it to sting slightly before he is massaging and caressing it, relieving it from any pain. 

It’s a cycle that continues multiple times, as he alternates between sucking on one swollen bud to pinching and rolling the other between fingers that are very talented. She wants to keep the moan that is fighting to be let free in so bad. Wishes that her body wasn’t enjoying the treatment he was bestowing upon her with each suck or each pull.

Wishes she didn’t feel the need to close her legs so she could at least place some pressure on the aching heat between her legs that she knew would be soaking. She tries to space out to take her mind away from the situation by tipping her head up and looking at the ceiling. Doing anything she could to deny the pleasure that was coursing through her as he caressed and sucked on her with fervor. 

However, when his eyes looked up to examine her expression and he was met with the sight of her trying to disassociate he didn’t like that very much. Unfortunately for her, he knew how to pull her attention back into the moment. Lips wrapped around a swollen nipple, he lightly nibbled at the skin for a few moments, tongue peeking out to stroke it before suddenly scraping his teeth against the sensitive bud causing a burst of pain and electricity to pulse up her spine. 

“Aahh!”

The sensation had her back arching. Had the moan that she was desperate to hold on to tumbling out freely as her lips parted and her eyes shot wide open. She could feel how her limbs trembled and grew weak when she looked down and saw a smug expression plastered on his face. He knew one of her buttons, and something told her he was going to find the rest of them. But scarily enough, there was something in the back of her mind hidden underneath everything that told her, whispered to her, that she could fight all she wanted, but she wouldn’t win. It made her shutter more.

“It’s quite a sight watching you try to distance yourself from this.” A breathy laugh rumbles through him at the sound of the moan that is forced out of her along with the dazed look in her eyes.

“I must say though,” he mutters, wrapping warm lips around her pebbled bud giving it one more languid suck before pulling away with a wet ‘pop’. His eyes raked slowly up her body watching how her chest heaved with each breath and it caused her to whimper with how intense his gaze was when their eyes met.

“Your body is more honest than that mouth of yours.” 

She swallows hard at his statement. And as much as she wants to look away from him, she can’t as he begins to kiss a trail down her stomach. He takes his time moving down her body. His lips never leave her skin as he glides them against her stomach, and his eyes hold her gaze as his tongue dips briefly into her belly button causing her to harshly suck in air.

A short mirthful yet dark chuckle leaves his lips as his fingers hook onto her pants and pull both it and her underwear down her thighs.  For a second she feels like reality is crashing back on her when she feels the air caress the slickness in between her legs. A panicked look settles in her once glazed over eyes and she is trying to twist away from him again as she feels his fingers grip her bare thighs. But it’s no use her legs are pressed firmly to the bed by the ropes.

“Please d-don’t.” 

Tears prick in her eyes as she feels fingers slide up her thigh only to hover right above her damp entrance. Her voice wavering as desperation sinks in finally. A final plea to the only person who could have mercy on her and end the humiliation. But that would not be the case as she saw the malicious smirk grow on his features and felt his fingers begin to press at her entrance.

“I think not.” 

The words fall from his lips at the same time he pushes both his middle and index finger into her dripping opening, tearing a gasp from her lips when she feels the intrusion.

“S-Stop! Please stop!” 

He ignores her squawking, too entranced by the way her cunt is opening up for him with each thrust of his fingers inside her. She can feel his fingers scissoring her open going as deep as they can before pulling out with a wet squelch that has her crying out. Each time he pulls his out of her, he laps at the wetness that coats his fingers tasting her essence before sinking his digits back into her.

With each thrust, she feels her body opening up more and more, enjoying the way his fingers explored her while wanting to thrust back on his hand for more of the pleasurable stimulation he was bestowing upon it. She feels the increasing wetness that comes with the way he is touching her. Feels how her body is physically intoxicated by his touch even though mentally she is grasping onto the last straws of resistance she has. 

The little resistance she is holding on to is broken when he suddenly dips his head in between her open legs and licks a broad stripe from her dripping cunt to her swollen clit. A loud shriek leaves her lips as his mouth starts to suck on it lightly like he had done her nipples but this time the added sensation of his fingers pushing into her had her hips thrusting up into his mouth uncontrollably. Tears stream down her face as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud before sucking at it again. Her hips have a mind of their own as they roll over and over into his mouth allowing him more power over her pleasure.

“Stop, please! Oh god, stop!”

The words tumble out of her mouth as she pulls and yanks at the ropes that are around her wrist trying to loosen them so she can push him off. But he doesn’t listen, no. Instead, he removes his fingers and mouth from her and for a moment she thinks he is listening to her and she is relieved at this. Relief is short-lived though because suddenly she sees his hand raised, wet digits glistening in the low light of the room, and her eyes almost bugle out as she tries to get away because-

“NO!” 

The scream is desperate as it is ripped out of her when his hand meets her opening in a harsh slap. Her cunt twitches and spasms at the sudden impact that stings yet burns in a way she had never felt before. Any breath that is left within her is expelled at the impact and she is lurching forward, mouth open but no noise coming out. She can barely decipher the look on his face as her own eyes are blurred with tears but she can see the raised hand again before she feels the impact of another slap.

Sounds of her wetness, her skin, her cries, everything can be heard as her mind blanks out for a second at the ache that is bringing a wave of pleasure that she doesn’t want but is experiencing. It’s all she can think about, all that is on her mind even when she feels her hips being shifted upwards. Even when she feels his tongue parting her folds slowly before sinking into her.

For a moment she forgets where she is and who is doing this to her as moan after moan is ripped from her as his tongue laps up the juices that are freely flowing out of her. Her hips roll in tandem with each thrust of his tongue and she can barely keep her head from lolling against her shoulder as her lips part open with tiny mewls of, 

“No, no, no.” 

Her voice is weak, barely audible as she pleads for him to stop, yet she can’t stop her hips from canting up to his mouth. Chasing the feeling of his tongue drinking her in while the bridge of his nose is pressed against her aching clit. 

“You can beg, and plead all you want,” he hissed between laps, his wet fingers trailing up and pressing down hard on the mound right below her stomach making her keen out. “But you will come.” 

Her mouth went dry at the command as she felt the fingers above her clit move down and begin to rub quick circles directly against the swollen bud sending jolts of pleasure that invade her senses. The tongue that was plunging into her was also suddenly being joined by fingers that had been holding her waist down. When his tongue would retreat his fingers would plunge into her hard and quick and then his tongue would come back. It was a constant assault on her tired body what he was doing and there was no way out of it other than obeying him. 

So when she felt that tightness in her stomach, the clenching in her cunt that signaled she couldn’t take anymore. She let go with a silent cry. Her limbs quivered, her cunt squeezed his fingers that continued to stretch her and her lips trembled as the salt from the tears she had cried stung her lips.

It felt like she had been frozen in time after he dragged her release from her as there was no noise for what seemed like hours until the sound of her wetness being slipped out of and a weak moan left her lips. Her eyes were heavy as her body tried to fight off the exhaustion that it was suddenly feeling from the battling of her mind and body. She could hardly keep them open as damp fingers gingerly grabbed her by her chin and tilted her face up so she could see the dark glittering eyes in front of her. 

When Snape spoke she could barely concentrate on his words as her body tried to fight off the sleep that was inevitable after the whirlwind of emotions and feelings. Though she did register his slick fingers being brought into her field of vision. She saw how they glistened with her wetness, her release that she had taken on his tongue and those digits. She watched with lidded eyes as he wrapped his lips around those digits sucking them clean of her essence. And she watched as his gaze burned into her being as he slowly removed digits from between his lips before he darkly groaned out,

“But I'm not the only sick one am I [Y/n]?”

Next Chapter: And Then It Get's Much Worse

A/N: Another chapter in the books and more wildness. I'm not sure if the next chapters will be as long as this because hoo boi this one took it out of me. But please let me know what you think I enjoy reading comments and I hope the writing is good!

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Playing Nice

I’m trying to start the new year off right by getting more written for my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch. This short segment of my first draft comes from the Step 1 moment - Grown Up.

One of the fun parts writing out scenes from the game in third person perspective is being able to dip more into the character’s thoughts and feelings, especially during more emotionally charged moments like a fight.

Poor Jamie. It must be rough being stuck in the middle between your sister and new friend when they get along like oil and water.

Thanks as always to everyone who reads, enjoys, and gives me such lovely feedback on my work. You really help keep me motivated!

...

It was a sweltering summer day, the type of day when the air conditioning barely seemed to be doing its job to keep things from getting too warm and kids were forbidden from playing outside by their parents. Jamie lay sprawled out on the living room rug, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling as she tried to come up with something they could do now that it was too hot to play pretend with her fuzzy stuffed animals. The heat didn’t help her come up with anything, and neither did the noisy birds that were chattering away outside the window, completely unaffected by the heat, unlike the children.

Cove sat by Jamie, leaning his head back against the cushions of the sofa. His dad had dropped him off earlier in the day, before it started getting too hot to think of what to do. Her parents had left them to play on their own, which unfortunately included Lizzie.

Although Cove had hit it off with Jamie almost instantly, it was a completely different story when it came to her older sister. It was so strange how different the two siblings were. While they were both energetic and loved to play, Jamie always checked to make sure that he was interested in whatever activity she came up with and was eager to hear about what he liked and wanted to do.

Lizzie, on the other hand, did not.

It seemed as though it didn’t matter if whatever Lizzie wanted to do sounded like an awful idea - she was going to do it anyway and anyone who didn’t join her would either get bossed around until they did or yelled at to go away, and that included her little sister.

It was annoying, and the more time Cove spent with Lizzie, the less he wanted to be around her. It was bad enough when adults bossed them around just because they were older without a kid only two years older trying to be even bossier than all of their parents combined.

Unfortunately, there was no avoiding Lizzie now. They couldn’t go to the park to play, or to the beach, and there was no Shiloh to draw her attention away. Not that Cove was eager to play with the other boy, but at least when Shiloh was there Lizzie had someone to boss around that wasn’t him or Jamie.

Cove still didn’t know what to make of Shiloh. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could enjoy being bossed around at all, let alone as much as Shiloh did.

Lizzie let out a frustrated noise from her seat on the sofa, feeling antsy from being cooped up inside all day and from the silence that had settled in as the three of them struggled to come up with an idea of what to play next. Her golf class that evening couldn’t come soon enough, as far as she was concerned - she was dying of boredom!

The thought of golfing set off a spark of inspiration that lit up Lizzie’s big brown eyes. She hopped off the sofa with a wide smile stretched across her face as a fresh wave of energy washed over her. She stood proud as she turned to Jamie and Cove, while the younger kids stared at her, confused by her sudden burst of activity.

“Since we’re stuck inside, we should be adults,” Lizzie announced grandly as she cocked her hands on her hips. “They don’t play outdoors anyways. They’re always inside and telling everybody they’re too busy to play.”

Jamie sat up, her brow furrowing as she considered the idea seriously. Cove just raised an eyebrow at Lizzie.

“Why?” he asked simply.

Lizzie gave Cove a deadpan expression. Of course he would question her brilliant idea. Why couldn’t her new neighbor be Shiloh? Her freckled friend was a whole lot more fun than this stick in the mud. “I said why. And it’ll be fun. Duh.” She made sure to add extra emphasis to the final word as she folded her arms in front of her to make sure Cove understood how completely he missed the obvious.

The answer wasn’t good enough for Cove, and Lizzie’s attitude rubbed him the wrong way. His brow pinched as his mouth twisted into a frown. “What do they do inside that we don’t? Besides use the phone a lot.”

Lizzie huffed in exasperation. Cove was so dense! How could he not get it even after she explained it to him? She decided to ignore his question and turned to Jamie instead, optimistic that at least her little sister would see the obvious brilliance of her idea. “Jamie, what do you think? Do you want to?”

Jamie let out a quiet hum to let her big sister know that she was still thinking about it as she idly twisted strands of her hair between her fingers. Cove had a good point - the stuff grownups did at home were pretty much the same thing they all did - work on chores, eat dinner, play board games, watch TV… The stuff that was only for adults were things that didn’t seem like fun, like cutting food with the really sharp knives, sitting or standing around in one place for a long time, or typing up a bazillion lines of code like Mom did all the time in her office.

Maybe they could pretend to be grownups who were secretly magicians in disguise or spies or…

Jamie cut off that train of thought when she noticed the signs of Lizzie growing impatient, and hurried to say something before her sister got mad at her. “I don’t know… Maybe we cou-”

“Pleaseeeee, Jamie?” Lizzie pleaded, cutting off whatever else the blue-haired girl was going to say. She clasped her hands together and gave Jamie her best puppy dog eyes, knowing that they never failed to win her little sister over. “When have I ever had a bad idea?”

Cove felt his irritation growing. Not only did Lizzie not answer his perfectly reasonable questions, but she was pushing Jamie around again. She didn’t even listen to everything Jamie wanted to say! “Whenever we play with you,” he retorted.

Lizzie scowled at Cove, and he had to look away from the full force of her glare. “I wasn’t asking you!”

Jamie climbed to her feet before holding her hands up in a placating gesture, hoping to prevent a fight from breaking out between the two. “I bet we could come up with something else,” she suggested. What was important was that they played a game that would make everyone happy, after all.

Lizzie stared at Jamie in shock, stunned that the puppy dog pout didn’t work. It must have gotten ruined by Cove butting in so rudely. She sulked, letting out a huff as she folded her arms over her chest. “But that’s what I’m going to do, and it’s not fun when I play pretend adults by myself.”

Cove looked at Lizzie funny as he raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you do that a lot?”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes at Cove. “What’s it to you?!”

Although Lizzie was being irritating about it, Cove thought he could understand where she was coming from. They were the only kids in all of Sunset Bird. If he and Jamie went off to play a different game by themselves, she would have no one to play with. The thought prickled him with guilt and left him feeling torn.

A sigh escaped Cove, his shoulders slumping as he accepted his fate to play a boring game with a bossy older kid, and he slowly stood up as well. “Fine, I’ll play,” he muttered. He then turned to Jamie, worried that she might decide to leave him alone with Lizzie. “Do you really not wanna play, Jamie?”

Jamie read the guilt and reluctance easily on Cove’s face, and she could relate, as she felt the same way he did. “Okay, okay, I’ll play.” She relaxed a little as she saw relief wash over Cove’s face while Lizzie lit up, ecstatic. “I hope this is as fun as you’re promising it’ll be.”

Lizzie took that as a challenge, and she looked intensely at her little sister, her expression deadly serious. “It’s the most exciting idea I’ve had all week.”

Jamie and Cove glanced at each other. Neither of them were so sure about that.

Lizzie didn’t even notice as she took a moment to consider her options, satisfied that neither of them were about to bail on her now.

It took just a few seconds for Lizzie to turn her already brilliant idea into a genius one. She clapped her hands together to get the younger kids’ attention and beamed at them. “Okay!” she announced grandly. “I’m gonna be a professional golfer. Jamie, you and Cove can be…”

She paused for a moment more before seizing on the first few thoughts that popped into her mind. “A beach volleyball player, a gymnast, or a tennis player!”

Cove let out a noise at the back of his throat as he raised an eyebrow at Lizzie. “Why can’t we pick anything we want?”

Lizzie wasn’t fazed by Cove’s questions this time and wagged a finger at him. “Because I have a fun idea, that’s why.”

Cove wasn’t satisfied by that answer. He also found it annoying that Lizzie would keep brushing off his questions like that. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that she would just get angry with him again if he said as much. “And we have to play sports as adults?”

Lizzie grinned. Now Cove was finally getting it. “Yep!”

Cove was still resistant to the idea, chafing at how limiting it was. “But there’s other kinds of sports, too.”

“It isn’t the same,��� Lizzie said with a scowl, starting to get annoyed by Cove’s constant questions. She turned to her little sister, hopeful that Jamie at least would see reason. “What do you think, Jamie? Don’t those choices sound super cool? You wanna be that, huh?”

Jamie knew her sister well enough to tell that she and Cove weren’t going to get any other options to choose from. She bit back the urge to sigh and offered Lizzie a small smile and a nod instead. “Sure, those could be fun.”

Lizzie lit up, delighted by her little sister’s agreement. After what happened before with the puppy dog pout, she expected Jamie might refuse again because of how stubborn Cove was being, so this was a pleasant surprise, leaving her beaming. “Oh yeah!” she cheered, pumping her fist in the air. She then turned her focus back to Jamie. “Which one sounds the best to you?”

Jamie had barely begun to open her mouth before Lizzie cut her off.

“Out of my list, still,” the orange-haired girl added before her little sister could suggest any changes like before. She had a brilliant plan after all, and brilliant plans didn’t need any changes.

Cove folded his arms across his chest as he looked away. He was starting to regret agreeing to this game at all. Lizzie’s attitude was just so frustrating. Even when she was getting her way, she was still pushing them around. It was as if what they wanted didn’t matter to her at all.

Jamie noticed the way Cove sulked. It was obvious to her that he didn’t care for any of this, but he had given up on resisting for now. She felt bad that he wasn’t having fun, but hopefully that would change if this game Lizzie wanted to play was even half as good as her big sister promised.

With that thought in mind, Jamie considered her options - beach volleyball, gymnastics, or tennis. They were all fine, she supposed, though she couldn’t say that she ever felt interested in playing them as an adult, at least not as a professional like Lizzie wanted to do with golf. She was more interested in becoming a rockstar or a treasure hunter or something else cool like that.

Unfortunately, none of those were options. Jamie had to play by her sister’s rules. If she had to go with one of those three choices, then she was going to pick the one that had at least one part that appealed to her - the beach.

If Jamie couldn’t play at the beach for real, then she would at least pretend that she was there. Volleyball was pretty fun too. Mommy liked to play it with them sometimes when they would all go to the beach together. Maybe she could put on her swimsuit to make the game of pretend even more realistic.

Jamie immediately discarded that thought. There was no way Lizzie was going to let her run off to her room now that she had agreed to play the game, not even to get dressed up for the part.

“Okay,” Jamie said with a decisive nod. “I’m gonna be a volleyball player.”

“Alright!” Lizzie shouted as she pumped her arms up into the air. Finally they were getting somewhere.

With one victory under her belt, Lizzie turned to Cove expectantly. “What about you, Cove?”

Although Cove had been resistant to the choices Lizzie gave, being a beach volleyball player was the only sport that really interested him. He felt funny about Jamie choosing it before he could, but in a good way that sort of tickled him inside. The feeling got stronger when Jamie turned to look at him, and he had to look away from her, staring down at his feet instead. Maybe this game could be fun after all. “I’ll be a volleyball player with Jamie,” he said softly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

Jamie lit up at the suggestion, and she smiled brightly at him. Her reaction only served to make Cove’s funny feeling stronger when he noticed, and he started to unthinkingly shift in place as he felt a little warmer.

Just like that, frustration swept away Lizzie’s fun, and Cove was to blame. She turned to him as she threw her arms into the air as she let out an annoyed huff. “You guys can’t be the same thing!” she shouted. “That’s not how this works!”

Seriously? Cove glared at Lizzie, his warm funny feelings fading under the chill of annoyance. He finally found something to like about her stupid game, and she was yelling at him for it? It was like she didn’t even want anyone to have fun playing it except herself. “You didn’t say that,” he snapped. “The rule was picking from the list. You can’t keep adding more.”

Lizzie grunted at the argument and turned to Jamie, but her little sister spoke up before she could list any of the many reasons why it was a dumb idea.

“Cove’s right, that’s not fair,” Jamie said, frowning. “I wanna be a volleyball player with Cove.”

Cove felt his annoyance fade a little, and he smiled just the tiniest bit at Jamie, happy that she felt the same way as him.

Lizzie looked between the two younger kids and their united front of resistance before she shook her head. She resigned herself to lose this battle, but not the war. “Fine,” she said, huffing out the word. “You’re both volleyball players, but you’re on the same team because there’s only one.”

With that, Lizzie rallied her earlier excitement for her grand idea. She stretched her arms wide with a flourish, her ponytail bobbing from her enthusiastic movements. “The Olympic team!”

Cove blinked at that. “What?”

“We’re Olympic athletes who just competed in the Olympics!” Lizzie announced with a beaming smile. Judging from the way the other two stared at her, her idea must have completely blown them away with its brilliance.

Jamie blinked then tilted her head slightly as she considered the idea. Okay, being Olympic athletes sounded a little more interesting than just playing sports. Maybe her sister had something cool in mind for them after all.

Cove, however, wasn’t impressed in the slightest. He readjusted his glasses, as they slid a little low on his nose, and scrunched his face at Lizzie. “That’s really specific…”

Lizzie folded her arms in front of her chest. “Uh, that’s what makes it fun,” she said, giving Cove a look that she was sure would tell him just how dumb he was being. “Anyway…”

She started to march back and forth in front of the younger kids as she allowed herself to get swept away by her grand idea. In her mind’s eye, she could see herself in the Olympic stadium, surrounded by countless fans all cheering her name. “I won all the gold medals and people are calling me the next Mickey Wright,” she announced proudly.

Cove blinked, quickly growing lost. “Who’s that?”

Lizzie stopped instantly as Cove’s rudeness, once again, put a halt to her grand plan. She whipped around to glare at him, her brown eyes sparking with impatience. “It doesn’t matter if you know who she is!” she huffed. “It’s a golf thing.”

With Cove properly chastised for being annoying, Lizzie went back to painting the scene so that they could all imagine what she was. “You guys won medals too,” she said, a smile slowly returning to her face. “Your team placed at silver. It’s more real if we’re not all first place.”

As much as Jamie wanted to avoid conflict, the remark caused her to bristle from the unfairness of that decision. “Hey!” she pouted as she stamped her foot on the floor. “We can do better than silver!”

Cove scowled, feeling just as slighted. “Jamie’s right.”

Despite the fact that the other two were once again united against her, Lizzie didn’t let their poor attitudes get her down this time. “Sorry,” she said with a smirk. “Lots of people lose at the Olympics. Them’s the breaks.”

Cove folded his arms in front of his chest as he let out a displeased huff of air. “Then you’re the one who did, not us.”

Lizzie’s jaw dropped as she stared at Cove with wide, round eyes. How could he say that? As if she could get anything less than gold for golf! “No way!” she shouted. “It wouldn’t make sense. I’m already practicing my golf game.”

With that, Lizzie went into a golfing stance, demonstrating her perfect starting position, just as her instructor praised her for. She could easily picture the driver in her hands as she swung it at an invisible ball that she imagined went sailing through the window all the way out into the ocean.

Lizzie stood proud before the little kids as they stared at her in silence, her smile wide. She sure showed them.

“So what kind of house do you want to live in?” Lizzie asked, deciding to move things along now that Cove and Jamie understood that she deserved the gold.

Cove didn’t look at Lizzie, scowling at the floor instead. He hadn’t changed his mind about winning, but he didn’t see any point arguing with someone who just never listened or cared what he thought.

How in the world were Lizzie and Jamie supposed to be sisters? Weren’t siblings supposed to be similar to each other? At least, that’s what he always thought. Obviously, he knew now that wasn’t true at all.

[nerdyfangirl67]

With a Little Help From the Team - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Tim McGee x fem!reader, Gibbs x daughter!reader (brief/vague)

Word count: 2717

Warnings: this was a pretty fluffy piece! (not gonna lie), mild language, reader is Gibbs’ daughter

Request: @ncisfan​ “Hello! I saw your post from this morning saying you didn’t have any requests for ncis at the moment and I wanted to make a request. If for some reason you don’t want to write it that’s okay but here’s my prompt,(Idk what to call it) The reader and McGee have been dating for years and McGee has to tell the whole team (Tony, McGee, Bishop, Gibbs. That team please!) including her dad (Gibbs, cause why not?) when he wants to propose. You can decide on if they say yes or no but I hope you’ll write it. Sorry if I’m overwhelming you I just wanted to make a request”

A/N: I know I’ve told you this @ncisfan​ , but I absolutely love this idea! And a McGee x reader? Yes please! I did put this in both McGee’s and the reader’s point of view and changed it up a bit. (Yeah, I got super involved in this one and it got longer than I thought…and took far longer than I thought) I hope you enjoy it darling!!

Tim stands in the bullpen, nervously trying to find the right words to tell the team about you, the team of which just so happened to include the one man capable of making him feel like a young schoolboy still wet behind the ears, especially since that one man had a lot to do with what Tim was about to say.

Tim takes a deep breath to gather his last bit of courage and confidence, which promptly fades away the moment he starts talking.

“I uh…well you know that I’ve been seeing, no dating…dating Y/N.” Tim stutters out as his nerves get the better of him, completely fumbling the carefully planned out speech he had come up with prior to meeting with Gibbs.

Gibbs narrows his steely blue eyes as he wordlessly nods his head, telling Tim to continue.

“Things have been going well, really well actually. And I’ve been wanting to, or meaning to…not that I was putting it off, because I wasn’t. That’s the last thing-”

Gibbs cut him off with a “Spit it out McGee.”

“What I’m asking is for your permission, no..that’s not - I want to propose to her.” He was speaking so fast, his words were nearly running together, his sentences jamming together into one that didn’t make much sense.

Gibbs doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he continues to stare at Tim, looking for any trace of deception in his face. “Why?” He asks gruffly, startling Tim.

“Wh-why?” Tim squeaks out, an uneasy feeling weighing on his chest as he tries to find the right words to answer a question he hadn’t prepared for.

“Yes, McGee. Why? Why do you want to marry my daughter?” Gibbs pauses, still evaluating Tim and his reaction. “Why should I want you to marry my daughter?”

Tim takes a deep breath, a sudden burst of confidence washing over him as he realizes that the answer to such a question was right in front of him. “Because I love her… honestly, I have for a long time, even before we started dating. And, more than anything, I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to spend every day that I have left in this life showing her I love her and cherishing her the way she deserves. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

Gibbs surprises him then, with a small smile and a hearty clasp to his shoulder. “Alright then, probie. Now all you have to do is tell her that and of course, ask her to marry you.”

Had it been any other girl, McGee might not be struggling as much to find the words. But you weren’t just any girl. You were not only Gibbs' daughter, something that caused him far more fear than he’d ever admit (he was dating the boss’ daughter after all), but you were also close with the other members of the team, which made this whole ordeal all the more nerve wracking.

You had come to know the members of the team through your job as a technical analyst for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, meaning you spent most of your time hunting down case leads in a cubicle. Then, as you grew better at your job, and closer to Abby (who had had something to do with getting you on Gibbs team, although she’d never admit to it), you had been moved from that cubicle to a desk in Gibbs’ bullpen, unceremoniously joining the team, although not full-time as you still worked with the cyber/tech unit, your father thought so highly of (something he would never admit out loud, even to you).

You eventually became just as close to Abby as your father was, something Abby always attributed to ‘a Gibbs thing’, - “It must be a Gibbs thing because Y/N is just as great as Jethro and we just click.” Many times, if you weren’t working on a case, you could be found hanging out in the lab with Abby.

You and Tony were best friends, spending hours talking about movies and pranking each other. And, despite your “geeky background” of tech analysis, Tony never once teased you (a courtesy Tony had never given him). In fact, he had become something of a big brother to you, filling a role in your life you hadn’t ever thought you’d needed filled.

And then Ziva had joined the team, filling in little by little that hole that had been left after Kate’s death. Even with the high tension existing between Abby and Ziva, you and Ziva had hit it off right away, becoming fast friends. Eventually, despite the perceived oddness of your friendship, you, Abby, and Ziva became an inseparable trio, even occasionally ganging up together against Tony or Gibbs.

Suffice to say, you were important to the team, just as they were to you. And now Tim was faced with telling these people that he not only had been dating you (a relationship the two of you had decided to keep relatively quiet because of your line of work and the fact that you were often times coworkers), but that he was going to ask you to marry him, a proposal of which he was seeking the team’s help with.

“So, uh...I-well, I’ve been seeing, er...dating-” Tim starts, his mind scrambling as he tries to form a coherent sentence.

“McGee, the chickadee is out of the bag. We all know you’re dating Y/N.” Ziva says matter of factly,

“Cat, Ziva, the cat is out of -” Tony starts reflexively, before pausing and turning to Tim and then to Gibbs, his mouth hanging open. “Wait-what? You’re the one Y/N has been dating?” He asks incredulously.

Gibbs takes a step forward, slapping Tony on the back of the head. “Close your mouth DiNozzo.” Tony’s jaw snaps shut at the command.

“Keep talking McGee.” Gibbs says gruffly, his piercing blue eyes settling on Tim.

“I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Tim blurts out.

“We kind of knew that McGee.” Abby states, her lips pulled into a satisfied smirk. “I mean, you haven’t exactly been stealthy about ring shopping. Or buying the ring. Or getting it inscribed.” Abby lists off, earring a few incredulous looks from the other members of the team. “Y/N’s my best friend, okay? I had to make sure the ring was a good one.”

Tony turns to McGee. “McRomeo getting married? Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” Tony steps forward to give Tim a good-natured shoulder shove. “You like it so you’re putting a ring on it, huh?” He asks with a Cheshire Cat-like grin on his face. Ziva is the one who moves to slap him in the back of the head this time.

“Ow, Ziva. What the hell was that for?” Tony asks, a hand already rubbing the spot Ziva had just smacked on the back of his head.

“When will you ever shut up and let McGee finish?” She questions, giving Tony a pointed glare. He opens his mouth to respond, but a hard look from Gibbs keeps him quiet.

Tim timidly clears his throat before continuing. “I’d like to do it here. And, um...I’d like to do it here, with all of you.” Smiles spread through the group at Tim’s words, several ideas already being blurred out by the more enthusiastic members of the team (it was Abby. Abby was already excitedly sharing ideas with the person sitting next to her, which just so happened to be Gibbs.)

——— You squeeze Tim’s hand before letting go, reaching for the handle to your car door. “See you at work.” You say with a soft smile before turning back towards your car.

“Let’s, um, let’s ride together today, to work I mean.” Tim stammers nervously, a hand on top of your driver’s side door, stopping you from leaving.

“Are you sure? I thought we were trying to keep this, us, quiet.” You ask, stepping away from your car and closer to him. He cups the side of your face with his hand, leaning forward to press a soft, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Just once, okay?” He asks quietly, a sheepish smile on his face.

You let out a small laugh. “Just this one time, alright Agent McGee?” You say with a smile, letting him take your hand and lead you towards his car. He opens the passenger door for you, closing it behind you before getting in the driver’s side. The entire ride into work is marked with Tim either giving you a huge dopey grin or a quick nervous glance, which only serves to make you suspicious, as if the insisting to ride together didn’t already.

Tim pulls into his usual parking spot, shutting off the car before turning to you. “How about we walk in together?” He asks hesitantly, a shy smile accompanying his question.

You quirk an eyebrow up at his question before responding, “Tim, it might make it pretty obvious what’s going on between us if we do that.” “Let’s do it anyway, Y/N.” He reaches over to squeeze your hand before climbing out of the driver’s side of the car and making his way to your side of the car. He opens the passenger door for you, offering you a hand to help you out, which you graciously accept. He continues to hold your hand after you are out of the car and as the two of you walk into the building, only letting go as the two of you go through security.

The two of you are the only ones on the elevator and for the entirety of the short ride, you can almost feel Tim vibrating beside you with some sort of nervous energy. You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss to it before murmuring, “You okay?” He gives you a tight nod in response just as the elevator dings, announcing its arrival on your floor of the building.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Have a good day Tim, I love you.” You say, moving towards the open doors of the elevator. Tim reaches a hand out, grasping yours and stopping your exit out of the elevator.

“I, uh, I’ve got to give you something. It’s in my desk drawer, in the...bullpen.” He stammers out, quickly retracting his hand to wipe it against his suit jacket.

“Oh, can I get it at lunch?” You ask, turning back towards the front of the elevator and pressing the button to reopen the doors.

“No.” He shouts, startling you enough that you take a step back away from the sliding doors. “I mean, come with me?”

“What is up with you today Tim?” You demand, his unexplained, unnatural behavior causing your suspicions to rise, a million questions running through your head.

“Just...please.” His voice is thick with emotion, his words coming out barely above a whisper.

You silently nod your head, stepping back into the elevator and allowing the doors to close as you press the button for the floor that the NCIS team resided on. You spare a look over at Tim, whose is rubbing his hands up and down his slacks, his face turned towards the ceiling of the elevator and his lips moving in silent words.

“Tim, what is going on? You’ve been acting weird all morning and I just-” The elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the floor of the bullpen and effectively cutting you off.

Tim puts a hand over the doors, stopping them from closing as he looks at you, his kaleidoscopic eyes pleading with you to understand and to trust him. You give a small nod, taking his outstretched hand in your own and following him to the bullpen.

Right away, you notice the lights over the area of the office you’d come to know as your father’s, as Gibbs’, were off. A flash of fear settles in your chest as you begin to picture all the possible scenarios as to why your father’s part of the office was empty and dark, none of them positive. You start to walk faster, almost pushing past Tim, to get to the bullpen. You suddenly stop short when your eyes fall on Tony’s desk.

Instead of finding your best friend seated at his desk or even finding his desk empty, you see that Tony’s desktop is covered with picture frames. Your curiosity wins out over the rising fear in your chest and you step closer to the desk to inspect the framed photos.

“Oh,” A breath of surprise leaves you as you realize that they were photos of you and of Tim, taken at different times in your relationship. A series of pictures of the two of you from your second date, taken in one of the photo kiosks that you find at the mall. The two of you making goofy faces at each other in the bullpen. You and Tim bent over a computer, faces serious as you both stare at the screen. You turn to Tim’s desk next, finding it filled with vases of flowers in your favorite color.

You move towards them, leaning down to inhale their fragrant scent, your gaze landing on your father’s desk and the photos scattered across the desktop, similar to Tony’s desk, except these were pictures you’d taken of the two of you. One of the pictures from your first trip together, from the date when Tim had told you he loved you, and the first case the two of you had worked on together and a series of selfies you’d taken with Tim at various times; all laid out like a timeline of your relationship.

After a few long moments, you lift your gaze towards Ziva’s desk, curiosity seizing you as you find her desk almost empty. You quickly make your way to the front of the desk, your eyes landing on the single piece of white paper, with only one small paragraph scrawled out in the middle of the page.

Y/N,

I love you and I have something I have wanted to tell you, or rather ask you, for a long time now. I know you’re probably wondering what that question is, so if you’d turn around, I’d like to ask you it.

You slowly turn around, the paper clutched to your chest and your heart racing in your chest as your eyes find Tim’s. He gives you a small, honest smile as he takes a step forward, his hands clasping around yours before he kneels down on one knee in front of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what is happening.

“I’ve loved you for years. First, as a friend, and then as a boyfriend, and now...now I want to love you as your fiance, and eventually as your husband. Would you, Y/N Gibbs, do me the honor of being my wife?” In his hands is a modest red velvet ring box, a platinum band adorned with three small diamonds nestled on the inside of the open box.

A lump forms in your throat and as you try to speak, to say yes, nothing comes out. Instead, you nod your head vigorously and close the distance between the two of you. Tim stands fully just as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in against you. You vaguely register noise in the background, noise you later learn is from the various members of ‘your’ NCIS team, as you feel him kiss your cheek.  

“I love you.” You whisper softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, savoring in the feeling of his lips against yours.

“And I love you.” He gives you a deep kiss in return, leaning in to cup a hand along the back of your neck. After a moment, you pull back enough to smile widely at him, the realization that this man would become your husband, the man that you got to spend the rest of your life with, starts to dawn on you, filling you with elation and excitement, not only for your wedding but for the future you’d had with the man you loved.

Tagging:

@madamsnape921​ @ncisfan​ @thisiscalm-andits-doctor​

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi can I request a peter parker x barnes-Rogers reader (steve and Bucky's daughter) and me and Peter find out I'm pregnant with Peter's baby and we try to keep it a secret but everyone is suspicious of us cause I've been really poorly lately and Peter is being overprotective and one day Peter accidentally says "don't do that it could hurt the baby" or "and everyone freaks out and me, Peter and my dads have a long talk but everything is fine thanks xx

Unexpected

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rogers! Reader

Requested?: Yes!

Word count: Almost 7k

Warnings: Pregnancy, some angst but thats it I think?

Author's Note: Yessssss this was so fun to write! Very excited to be back to posting on this page again. Thank you so much for the request! Hope to start adding in more content soon, so if yall have any requests feel free to send them in! And if you have requests sent in already, know that I love you and I will be getting to clearing out my inbox here pretty soon 🥰

Taglist: @just-that-bi-girl , @winterfrostsarmy

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In retrospect, the entire team should have realized what was going on with you a lot sooner. To their credit, most of them had noticed that something was different about you, but other than Nat and Wanda none of them had a guess as to what exactly that was. 

The men appeared completely clueless in respect to the cause of the recent changes in you. Even Clint, a married father of three, hadn't caught on even after he'd seen you leaving the bathroom having clearly just thrown up. Tony had been the closest to figuring it out of the all men, having noticed your odd mood swings and crying fits as they became more and more frequent. He noted the same behavioral pattern as he'd found himself stuck in after the Battle of New York, and secretly worried for your mental well-being. He hadn't felt comfortable enough to broach the topic with you just yet though, instead opting to watch you from a distance for the time being. 

The women, however, seemed to understand almost instantly what was going on. Nat had figured things out once she realized that you had been skipping training lately and noticed that you and Peter barely appeared to leave one another's sides for even a moment. Wanda based her guess almost solely upon the fact that she could just feel that something was different about you; your entire energy had changed in the last few weeks and she noted it even before Peter had. Both women had their suspicions, but had seemingly agreed to keep their thoughts to themselves until you were ready to tell the team what was going on. 

Your dads were a different story altogether. 

It took Steve and Bucky much longer to notice something had changed with their daughter, Steve longest of all. Either you'd done a great job of avoiding your Pops or he'd been incredibly unobservant (or more likely both), but he hadn't seen anything that he would've considered out of the ordinary for you. 

That is, until today. 

"AAAAUUUUUUGGGGH"

Steve was on his feet in an instant, sprinting into the kitchen at the sound of your enraged scream. He skidded to a stop and surveyed the room with a trained look for the source of danger, but found none. In fact, you and Sam were the only two in the space as far as he could tell. Sam's back was pressed snugly against the furthermore countertop as you practically cornered him, the older man clearly caught off guard by your sudden burst of rage. You flung your hands around wildly as you yelled, one gripping a box so tightly that your knuckles were beginning to turn a concerning shade of white.

Completely bewildered, Steve watched in stunned silence for moment as you fumed and screamed expletives at the slightly-terrified looking Sam, without any clear indication as to what had happened. 

"I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE YOU, YOU GODDAMNED ASSHO-"

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" Steve scolded you finally, momentarily stopping your verbal assault. "What in God's name is going on here?" 

Your eyes turned to your Pops' briefly before flickering back to glare in Sam's direction. 

"Pigeon-brain ate the last of my oreos," you seethed, walking forward and jabbing an accusatory finger to Sam's chest, his hands instantly flying upwards in surrender.

 Steve felt his jaw drop in utter disbelief.

“You-,” 

“What’s with all the commotion in here?” Bucky interrupted, striding into the kitchen much as Steve had moments ago and joining his husband's side with a confused look on his face. Steve crossed his arms and frowned at their daughter. 

“Apparently our daughter is screaming at Sam because he ate her cookies.” your Pops explained tersely.

“Not cookies, oreos,” you muttered, glare never wavering from Sam. You furiously threw the offending empty package roughly at his still bewildered face in lieu of another expletive. Sam was evidently so bewildered, in fact, that he didn't even flinch as the box hit his head and bounced pathetically to the floor. 

Bucky raised his eyebrow. 

“And that’s why you’ve been screaming like that?” he confirmed. You nodded, arms crossing your chest stubbornly. 

Bucky shrugged, looking towards his husband with a look of indifference. “Makes sense.”

“No, it absolutely does not make sense,” Steve lightly scolded, glancing at Bucky with a pointed look before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N you’re completely overreacting. Apologise to Sam right now.”

Your mouth dropped open, and you gaped at your dads with an expression that was equal parts betrayal and rage. 

“No.”

“No?” Steve repeated incredulously. He stared at you with disbelief, looking between you and Bucky like he was hoping he’d somehow misheard you. You met his glance with an equally stubborn look as you planted your feet solidly beneath you and tightened the cross of your arms. “What do you mean, no?”

“You heard me,” you spat, unwavering. 

Sam merely looked confused as he watched the two of you argue, if albeit still a bit scared, but Bucky was sure his shock was evident on his face. You never back-sassed your Pops, not even when you were really angry, and Bucky only felt his disbelief grow at the prospect that your attitude was all due to a few cookies. 

"Y/N, you don't get to tell me no," Steve ground out carefully, voice stern with a rare sort of parental authority he seldom had to use with you. In fact, Bucky was pretty sure he hadn't actually heard him use this particular tone since way back when you were a toddler testing the limits of your dads' patience. But unlike your three-year-old self, you didn't back down at your Pops' disapproving tone; in fact, you met his intense stare with a flippant roll of your eyes, deepening your dad's shock at your abrupt behavioral shift. 

"He fucking knows what he did, everyone knows those oreos are mine," you snapped, eyes alight with a kind of fury the likes of which your dads had never seen from you before. 

"Language!" Steve gasped at his daughter, his authoritative tone giving way to a spluttering one of complete disbelief. 

"FUCK OFF!" you shouted instantly. 

"HEY!"

Bucky had officially had enough. Irritation blossomed deep within his chest at the hurt he saw wash through his husband's eyes at your vulgar screech. Teenaged angst was one thing, but it was entirely another to blatantly disrespect Steve like you were. He still didn't know what was really causing you to act like this--because no way in hell could this be all over some oreos-- but he'd definitely passed the point where he even cared. 

"Doll, that’s enough. Clearly you're upset, but you cannot speak to your Pops like that," he practically growled. You turned your attention to your dad with the same kind of indignant irritation in your eyes, a flash of fresh anger rolling across your face at the sight of Bucky's equally irate expression. 

"You can fuck off too," you spat.

 Bucky's jaw clenched dangerously, the muscle in his cheek jumping and twitching as he took in his daughter's crass retort. Sam had long since left the scene, the nearly suffocating tension officially too much for him to take. Steve's eyes went wide for what felt like the millionth time since he'd first walked into the kitchen. If he hadn't known something was wrong before, he undoubtedly did now. 

You may not disobey him often, but you never snapped at Bucky. 

Steve had long since accepted that, though you loved the two of them the same, you'd always liked Bucky more. A daddy's girl from birth, you and Bucky had always been inseparable-- so for you to now scream and curse at him like this was like a flaming-red flag in Steve's mind. 

Something was definitely wrong. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky hissed. The two of you faced one another, arms crossed and expressions grim. You planted your feet even more solidly underneath you, staring your dad down with a fury so intense it was almost palpable. If it weren't for the overall tension of the situation, Steve might've teased the two of you for your near-mirrored positions. 

"Y/N? What's going on, I thought I heard yelling?" Peter asked as he practically skidded into the kitchen. He immediately joined you, face morphing into a look of utter concern at the sight of yours and Bucky's standoff. Steve braced himself, mentally apologizing to Peter for the verbal assault that was surely coming his way. 

But it never came. 

It was as if all the unwarranted anger was sucked from your body in a rush as soon as you caught sight of your boyfriend. Your face crumpled into an anguished expression, and Steve could see how the tears welled up in your eyes instantaneously. Peter clicked his tongue in pity and you thrust yourself instantly into his awaiting arms. He gripped you tightly, and you eagerly buried yourself further into his embrace. Face smashed tightly against his chest, you began to sob uncontrollably.

Your dads gaped at the scene, wide-eyed. 

"S-sam ate my oreos a-and now everyone's mad at me, and I j-just wanted my snack!" you all but wailed, voice muffled by Peter's body. 

Bucky blinked once as he turned to his husband, total confusion written all over his features. Steve just gaped in response, unable to formulate a semi-coherent thought, let alone words. 

"Oh angel, it's okay," Peter cooed softly into your hair, hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly as you continued to cry. "I can go and get you more oreos; don't cry Y/N/N, I'll just run down to the store right now to get you some."

Lifting your head from his chest, you seemed slightly placated and hopeful as you sniffled and looked up at him. 

"C-can I come with you?" you asked him shyly, tear-stained cheeks turning a slight shade of pink at your childish request. Peter smiled fondly down at you, clearly happy to see that you were feeling better. 

"Of course, it'll be nice to walk with you," he smiled sweetly at you and lightly kissed your nose. You giggled as you removed yourself from his embrace before walking over to your dads. 

"M'sorry I shouted daddys. Love you guys!" you apologized in a chipper voice before kissing both of the men's bewildered cheeks. 

The two supersoldiers both stood in stunned silence as they watched you leave hand in hand with Peter, who briefly shot them an apologetic look before the pair were gone. Steve thought he heard Peter mumbling something to Y/N as they left, but the only words he could pick out were "not good to get so worked up", which only confused him further. 

"What in the hell was that?" Bucky grumbled, face still crinkled with bewilderment. Steve simply shook his head. 

"I have absolutely no idea. I've never seen her behave like that, have you?"

"Nothing like that, but she was acting funny the other day too," he frowned, recalling the scene he'd walked in on just a few days prior. "She was full out sobbing on the couch a few days ago over a toilet paper commercial."

Steve gaped at his husband. 

"Sh-she...what?"

"Doll have you seen your Pops? I can't find him any-"

Bucky's question died in his throat as soon as he hit the threshold of the TV room. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees as sobs racked through you. Peter sat next to you with his eyes crinkled in concern and hands rubbing gently at your shoulders as you cried. 

"Y/N what's wrong, why are you crying?" Bucky asked. Feeling his protective instincts kick in instantly,  he couldn't help but search the room with his eyes in search of any danger. Finding nothing, he narrowed his eyes at your boyfriend.

"Did he do something?" Bucky demanded. "Parker I swear to God if you hurt her I-" 

"What? N-no I didn't do anything Mr. Bucky I swear!" Peter spluttered, eyes widening in fear at the terrifying look in your dad's eyes. 

"Bullshit, then why's she crying like that? Of course you did someth-"

"N-no it's not P-peter dad!" you interrupted tearfully. "There was an ad on TV that just made me emotional okay? You know, the one with the boy crying in the bathroom and his dad offers him toilet paper for his tears?"

There was a beat of silence. 

"Doll, you really mean to tell me that you're sobbing over a toilet paper ad?" Bucky asked, brows furrowed in disbelief. You sniffled as you nodded, and fresh tears began to pick your eyes once more. 

"Yes! I mean it's just so inspiring," you blubbered. "I mean how often do you actually get to see a teenaged boy cry on TV? Never, cause toxic masculinity standards in this stupid patriarchal society we all live in say otherwise! And not only does the dad accept that his son is crying and is allowed to feel real emotions, he sits down to talk with him about them! I just got so happy thinking about all the little boys who will see this ad and feel the validation that they're normal for feeling sad every once in a while!"

Bucky just stared at his daughter with a blank look for a moment; he looked like he was unable to formulate a single response to the information he'd just been given. 

"Well that's...uh….that's great I gue-"

"I can't believe you would just assume that me crying just had to be because of something Peter did," you interrupted, angrily brushing the leftover tears from your face. "It's so unfair, you always blame him for everything!"

"I-uh," Bucky stammered, flustered by the sudden change in your emotions. You scoffed and stood quickly from your spot in Peter's embrace, crossing your arms petulantly. 

"It's true dad, you're always looking for something to yell at him for! It's so biased and unfair," you practically yelled. "Honestly it's such prejudiced bullshit. Some kind of outdated 'lock up your daughters' rhetoric that I can't believe yo…"

At some point during your impassioned speech you began stomping away from both your dad and Peter while still ranting. As your shouts became fainter and fainter Bucky found himself directing his dumbfounded expression at Peter instead. In a rare show of solidarity with your boyfriend, Bucky silently begged for an explanation as to what on earth had just happened. 

Despite the way his heart was hammering wildly in his chest Peter remained silent. He offered only a passive shrug to your dad before he clambered to his feet and began following after you. If Bucky hadn't been caught so off guard he surely would've been suspicious at the visible sweat that was beading on Peter's forehead and the way the young boy's hands trembled as he quickly left the room, the question of what was causing your mood swings laying thickly unanswered in the air. 

"What the fu-"

"She...a toilet paper ad? Really?"

"Yep, a friggin' toilet paper commercial," Bucky nodded solemnly. Steve blinked once, shaking his head. 

"So what did you do?" he asked incredulously. 

"Nothin'," Bucky shrugged. "She was so damned worked up that I figured she needed some space, and by the time I went to talk to her she'd already seemed completely fine. Thought it wasn't worth upsetting her all over again."

Steve snorted. 

"Yeah right, you were just too scared you would make her mad again," he chuckled. 

"Hell yeah I was," Bucky admitted freely, crossing his arms and shooting his husband a defiant expression. "You've seen her, you know how terrifying she can be when she's pissed!"

Steve chuckled once more, shaking his head fondly. 

"Mmmm, and I wonder where she got that from."

Bucky narrowed his eyes and scowled at the implication, a surly look overtaking his features. Steve couldn't help but laugh outright at the expression on his husband's face; it was the exact same face you always made when you were annoyed, right down to the little pout in your lip. 

"For the last time Stevie, she doesn't get that from me," he grumbled. 

"Sure Buck, whatever you say," Steve laughed. 

Though your odd behavior and mood swings were at least now on both your dads' radar, neither had any clue as to the actual reason for your sudden changes. The pair of them chalked up the incidents to little more than teenaged angst, however they had no idea how wrong they were nor just how soon they were about to find out what was really going on. 

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

"I don't understand Y/N," Steve stated carefully. "Why exactly don't you want to go with the team?"

You shifted your weight from foot to foot anxiously, huffing out a breath in mock annoyance and very real frustration. 

You'd been in the training room, lightly working out with Nat and Wanda when your Pops and Tony had walked in to announce that there was an urgent mission that apparently would require the entire team. Internally cursing your timing, you'd tried to sneak out of the room unnoticed, but as your luck would have it, your dad caught you. Now you were stuck arguing with your dads, the attention and curiosity of everyone in the gym directed at you. 

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you furiously racked your brain for some way, any way, out of this assignment and this conversation without an actual reason. 

Well, a reason you were actually willing to give, that is.

"Why does it even matter?" you snapped, hoping that no one clocked the tremor in your voice. "It's not like you guys even need me anyways."

"Doll, you always jump at the chance to come with us," your dad interjected. "So what's so different about today?"

"I just don't want to," you whined, lying through your teeth. "I'm tired and I don't feel good."

"But you were literally just training?" Sam pointed out. You narrowed your eyes at him, irritation bubbling under the surface of your anxiety at the contradiction. The older man shrank back a bit under your firey gaze, the previous incident in the kitchen clearly prominent in his mind as he stepped behind Wanda. 

Clint snorted. 

"If you could even call that training," he mumbled under his breath. Your jaw dropped. 

"What is this, gang up on Y/N day?!" you sassed as your arms flew to cross your chest defensively. Your Pops shook his head. 

"We're just worried Y/N/N," he reassured, brows furrowed with concern. "You've been behaving very strangely lately, and this is just one more thing."

"Yeah doll," Bucky nodded, agreeing with his husband. "So what gives?"

Your pulse sped up once more at the direct question, a sickening feeling rising in your throat like bile at the realization of just how suspicious your dads were. Unable to think clearly through your panic, you did the only thing you could think of. 

You scoffed in fake disbelief, rolled your eyes, and began stomping out of the room. 

"Y/N Barnes-Rodgers!" your dad shouted in an indignant and angered tone. "We are not done talking about this!" 

Damn. 

"What?!" you whirled around, stomping your foot like a child. "I just don't want to go this time okay?"

Bucky's face turned red at your open defiance, but Steve interrupted before he could even open his mouth to snap back at you. 

"No Y/N it's absolutely not okay," he scolded. You felt the burn of unshed tears prick your eyes as they searched desperately around the room, mind racing to think of an excuse that would get you out of this situation. 

"But-"

"No, no buts Y/N," your dad barked, clearly having composed himself enough to speak once more. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, and the stubbornly annoyed look on his face was enough to make the tears in your eyes begin to fall. A feeling of utter entrapment and fear settled in your chest like a suffocating weight as you felt the hot, fresh tears stream down your cheeks. 

"Doll, are you crying?" your Pops questioned incredulously. "What on earth is going on with you?"

"Nothing! I just can't go today," you blubbered, past the point of being able to hold back your sobs. 

"You can't go, or you won't go?" Bucky asked pointedly, evidently not swayed by your tears. 

"It doesn't matter," you cried desperately. Your dad's eyes bored into yours directly as if he was searching your brain to find out what you were holding back from him. 

"It clearly does matter, otherwise you wouldn't be acting like this," he continued harshly. "I'm not sure what it is you aren't telling us, but I don't even care at this point. Stark said he needs everyone and your Pops told you to go, so you need to get yourself together and go and get ready."

The tears were now cascading down your face in giant streams and your face was growing warmer by the second. You darted your gaze back and forth between the other team members' faces, still searching for some kind of last minute way out of this situation. Finding only curious or concerned expressions, you turned back to your dads with wide eyes. You felt your mouth go dry as your lips open and closed wordlessly, the severity of your current predicament weighing you down more and more by the second. 

"I-"

"No. I don't want to hear another word from you Y/N," your dad snapped. "Go and get ready for the mission now."

"But she can't go!"

Time stopped for a split second as the entire room's heads snapped towards the desperate shout.

Peter had only just entered the training room, wondering where everyone was, when he caught the tail end of your dad's order. He couldn't help but blurt the first thing that'd come to mind, the implication of which only dawned on him afterwards. As he rushed to your side he shot you a sheepish look, and you internally cringed a bit at his slip. 

Even though you were certain Peter's involvement would only further reduce your already slim chances of getting out of this mission without a full confession of what was really going on, you couldn't help but feel an inkling of relief as his eyes locked with yours. His hand immediately intertwined itself with yours once he'd reached you, and your belly fluttered with a warm tinge of comfort with the simple touch.

True, things were probably about to go sideways for the both of you, but at least Peter was here to go through it by your side. 

"Excuse me Parker?" your dad spat incredulously, eyes blazing with anger at your boyfriend's outburst. "I don't recall asking you for your opinion on my daughter or what she can or can't do."

Peter stood a little taller as he looked Bucky straight in the eyes with an unprecedented amount of determination. 

"She can't go." he practically growled, eyes stern and unyielding as he openly defied your dad. He was standing a half-step in front of you, tense back partially shielding you from the rest of the team as he spoke.

 Even with his face turned the opposite direction you could see from his profile the way his brows were furrowed and how dark his normally chocolate brown eyes had gotten. You felt a slight shiver run up your spine at the fiercely protective energy Peter was radiating, and your heart felt a bit lighter at the way he stood up to your dad on your behalf. You squeezed his hand in an effort to ground him, and he softened marginally as he glanced back at you.

Your dad however looked as if he might combust soon based on the way his eyes bulged out and his face turned a concerning shade of red. 

"What's that supposed to mean Peter?" Steve interjected carefully, his hand reaching up to rest comfortingly on his husband's shoulder. 

"It means exactly what we said," Peter said firmly. "Y/N cannot go on this mission today."

The team watched the interaction between you, Peter, and your dads with their heads bouncing back and forth between the four of you like they were watching a tennis match. Not a word had been uttered from a single one of them, and yet they stood completely transfixed as they waited patiently to see the outcome of the argument. 

"And why, pray tell, is that Parker?" your dad hissed, scowl etched across his features. 

Peter's eyes traveled to yours, irises swimming with a silent question. Realizing that there was no way out, you took a steadying breath as you nodded softly and squeezed his hand once more in reassurance. Peter smiled at you fondly before dropping his smile and turning back to your parents. 

"She can't go because...it could be bad for the baby."

You could've heard a pin drop in the training room. No one made a sound, no one even dared to breathe. The shock in the room was palpable, but you couldn't be bothered to even glance at anyone other than your dads, their reactions the only two that mattered to you in this moment. 

Though you'd expected a rather explosive reaction from your parents (especially from your dad), you were met instead with blank stares. Your dads were simply staring at you and Peter in stunned silence, and their lack of a response actually frightened you more than the screaming you'd been anticipating for weeks now. The beat of silence seemed to stretch on eternally, though in reality it was probably no more than thirty seconds. You watched nervously, your hand becoming sweaty in Peter's as you waited. Finally, your Pops blinked and opened his mouth cautiously. 

"Bad for the wha-"

"I SWEAR TO GOD PARKER THAT'D BETTER BE SOME KIND OF DISGUSTING PET NAME FOR MY DAUGHTER."

Ahhh. There it was. 

Your dad had clearly broken through his frozen thoughts enough to respond, and you would've laughed if you weren't so terrified. He looked positively furious; his eyes were darker than you'd ever seen them and his face had darkened from red to an almost purple color that looked painful to say the least. His murderous gaze was hyper-fixated on Peter, and you couldn't help but step in front of your poor boyfriend in an effort to take some of the heat off him. 

Peter, evidently, was having none of that, and he frowned before pulling you backwards and tucking you into his side tightly. If you hadn't been so focused on your dad right now you might've rolled your eyes at his over-protectiveness. Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of his embrace as you took a steadying breath. 

"It's not," you responded as calmly as you could manage while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your throat. "I'm pregnant."

Silence enveloped the room once more, and you could've sworn it was even more awkward than the first time. It must've been, because you could see Nat and Wanda ushering the rest of the team out of the gym out of the corner of your eye. You weren't quite sure if you were grateful for the privacy or more scared of how your dads would react now that you were alone.

Your dads stared at you and Peter with wildly different expressions. Steve was staring off into space and looking as if he was either going to throw up or pass out soon, and Bucky still looked as if he was about a half a second away from murdering Peter with his bare hands. To his credit, Peter was still standing by your side with the same look of determination as before despite this, but you could feel the way his pulse was hammering through his veins as he too carefully surveyed your dads' reactions.

You stood quietly, trying to be patient as you watched them, but the suspense and anticipation quickly became overwhelming and you couldn't help but blurt,

"Say something!"

Though both their gazes snapped up to your face with your plea, yet neither your dad nor you Pops said anything. You were suddenly overcome with the urge to explain yourself. 

"I know that you're probably in shock or angry or maybe both- and honestly that's completely fair!" You rambled breathlessly. "I know we're still only eighteen, but I really think everything's gonna be okay? Really, I do. And I'm so sorry about today, believe me this isn't how we planned on telling you at all bu-"

"You're not coming on the mission," Steve interrupted, his voice completely devoid of emotion. "Nor is Peter. Your dad and I will be back later, and we're all going to have a long discussion."

It felt like all the air was sucked out of your body as you watched your Pops pull your dad towards the training room exit. You hadn't been fully sure of just how you were going to tell them, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that it would come out like this. Tears once more welling up in your eyes, your heart sank as you realized just how disappointed and angry they were. 

"I love you," your voice cracked as you called to their retreating forms, unable to bear the sight of them leaving without reminding them. They both paused in the doorway, and without turning back both muttered that they loved you too before they were gone. 

As soon as they left you immediately twisted yourself and thrust your face into Peter's chest, the tears flowing steadily as you sobbed. He wrapped his arms tightly around your shaking form, lips finding the crown of your head and hands rubbing soothingly across your back. 

"Th-they hate me now," you whispered brokenly into Peter's soft hoodie in between sobs. "They hate me Pete, they're n-never going to forgive me for this!"

Peter shushed you quietly, gentle lips kissing your hair as he began to sway you back and forth slowly. 

"They don't hate you angel," he soothed. "They're just surprised. Disappointed in the timing maybe, but they'll get over it. I promise."

"I never wanted it to go like this," you cried as you pulled your head from his chest slightly. Peter's hands left your back for a moment to come and rest on either of your cheeks. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before retreating upwards to look deep into your eyes. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl, but it did," he said gently as he brushed away some of your tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It did and it's going to be okay. We'll talk to your dads when they get back and clear everything up. And no matter what, you and I are going to get through this together, okay?"

You sniffled softly, nodding sadly. Peter's eyes were swimming with guilt and dejection at the sight of the empty expression on your face. He didn't know how to comfort you in this situation, but it was like every molecule in his body was demanding he do so. He leaned down once more to press a loving kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. 

You sighed, head retreating back to his chest once your lips disconnected. Sadness was still swirling in your stomach and you just longed for the feeling that being in Peter's arms brought. He seemed to understand perfectly- as he always did- pressing his cheek to the top of your head and wrapping his arms tightly around you without a word. The two of you stood there for a while, bodies entangled as you continued lightly swaying back and forth. Peter's hands continued to roam up and down your spine and your tears began to slow and dry. 

Eventually you hummed, stepping back and up on your toes to press an appreciative kiss to Peter's face. He smiled as a faint pink tinted his cheeks at your display of affection. You giggled, slightly amazed that even after everything you two had done, something as simple as a peck on the cheek could still make him blush.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking up into his eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at you in confusion. 

"For staying with me through all that. I mean it's you, so I wasn't really worried...but my dad can be really frightening. So thanks," you half joked. 

Peter chuckled lightly as he pulled you back into his arms once more. 

"Of course angel. Told you, I'm never going to leave you. Even if your dad is super scary. You two are stuck with me now. I'm never ever going to leave you or our baby," he vowed quietly into your hair as his hands reached down to rub the small but growing bump in your tummy lovingly. "We're gonna get through this all together, as a family."

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, but this time out of sheer love and happiness.

 Damned hormones. 

"You're gonna be such a good daddy Peter," you whispered gratefully. Hearing the slight crack in your voice, Peter pulled you away from his chest gently to wipe your tear stained cheeks once more. 

"Hey now, no more tears today," he scolded playfully as he tugged you across the room. "When's the last time you ate something? We have the whole kitchen to ourselves now, and I bet my babies are hungry!"

You chuckled lightly as you allowed him to pull you along with him towards the kitchen. All the while, he chattered happily about the new article he'd just read about the specific nutritional needs pregnant women have, and your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were still apprehensive about the upcoming conversation with your dads, but you were definitely feeling better. As much as their approval and involvement would mean to you, you'd come to the conclusion that as long as you had Peter by your side everything would work out alright. 

Somehow.

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

"Petey, are you sure you don't need any-"

"No! Nope. I've got this," your boyfriend interrupted stubbornly. You signed, hand absentmindedly rubbing across your swollen stomach as you watched him struggle with the latch on the new crib the two of you were setting up. 

Well, the crib that Peter was setting up. 

It'd been a few months since the team had found out about the newest upcoming addition to the Tower, and you'd decided that it was time to begin decorating the nursery. Tony, of course, had offered to have someone come in to do all the heavy lifting, but Peter was insistent that he be the one to set everything up. His protectiveness over you and the rapidly growing child you were carrying had only increased as the months went on, so much so that you were lucky now if he'd even let you stand for long enough to watch him put the baby's furniture together. It was endearing, really, how much he cared for the two of you, but you'd be lying if you said that you weren't becoming a little frustrated with how little you could do to help. 

"Really Peter, I can help," you grumbled, annoyed. "I'm pregnant, not disabled."

"Of course you could help angel, but I don't need help," he grunted, eyes never leaving the mass of parts around him. "You already have to do all the work of growing and housing our baby, the least I can do is build the crib!"

"Housing?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow.

"You know what I meant," he grumbled, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his growing frustration. 

Peter was clearly losing his grip just a bit as he struggled to make sense of the instructions that had been provided with the pieces. He sighed, throwing the pamphlet down on the ground before trudging over to where you stood, leaning against the changing table that he'd put together a few days ago. 

"I've engineered web-fluid from absolutely nothing, re-built computers from scratch and yet I can't even manage to put this stupid bed together," he whined as he dropped his head down onto your shoulder in defeat. "M'gonna be a terrible father."

"Ohhh bubs," you cooed sympathetically, smile falling quickly and heart lurching at the tone of pure dejection in his voice. 

You wrapped your arms around him, one snaking around his back and the other cradling his head. Your fingers began instantly carding through his chocolate-brown locks as he nuzzled his nose lightly into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His hands wound their way around your waist too- or as well as they could with your round tummy in the way- and his own hands began absentmindedly tracing patterns over your bump.

"Peter you have to know that isn't true," you soothed, kissing his cheek softly. "You're going to be an amazing dad."

He hummed non-commitally. 

"You think you're not?" you challenged, fingers halting their dance against his scalp. "Do the thing."

He raised his head from your shoulder, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"What does that have to do with-"

"Do the thing," you interrupted sternly. He sighed and knelt down, grumbling inaudible complaints as he went. Once he was face to face with your bump he placed his hands on either side, thumbs rubbing soft circles into your stretched-out skin.

"Hi baby, it's me, your daddy," he spoke softly into your stomach, lips so close that you shivered with each breath that ghosted over your clothed belly. "I love you so much."

The baby responded instantly at the sound of Peter's voice, feet jabbing out and kicking excitedly from within just underneath where his hands lay. You felt your heart skip a beat at both the feeling the movement in your belly and the sight of the dopey smile that lit up Peter's handsome face as he felt his child's kicks. You rubbed over his hands lovingly and smiled down at him.

"See bubs? He starts throwing a party in there every time you do that. He loves you so much already, that's not gonna change," you reassured him softly. Peter's smile dropped just a little. 

"But the crib-"

"Fuck the crib," you responded stubbornly. "You are the most caring, sweetest, and most thoughtful person I know Peter. You're going to be the world's best dad."

"Whoa whoa, believe we're the ones with the mugs that claim that title," a voice chuckled from the doorway. 

You smiled fondly, eyes darting to find the sight of your Pops leaning casually against the frame of the door with your dad standing just behind him. Both had amused smiles on their faces, and you grinned widely. Even Peter smiled as he rose to his feet and wrapped one of his arms around your back to pull you into his side. 

"Okay, third best dad in the world then," you amended, grinning. 

"That's better," your dad piped up, smiling. "Now what's this I hear about a faulty crib? Sam said he can hear Peter cursing all the way from his room."

Peter groaned, tilting his head backwards in exasperation as you laughed out loud. 

"It isn't faulty, I'm just an idiot," Peter grumbled. Everyone but him chuckled, and your dad walked further into the room. He clapped a hand on Peter's back as he grinned at the younger man. 

"Normally I'd agree with you, but I know if I do Steve will bring up how Y/N had to sleep in the bassinet for like 6 months because we couldn't figure out how to put her crib together."

"You mean you couldn't figure it out," your Pops snorted from his place in the doorway. "As I recall, I was not allowed to help with the furniture because you were determined to figure it out on your own."

Bucky shrugged, seemingly indifferent to his husband's insinuation. 

"Whatever. Point is, I wanted to see if you wanted some help putting it together. Thought I might be able to give you some tips," your dad continued. Peter's smile widened, and he nodded eagerly before your dad knelt down to help try and make sense of the directions.

The discussion after the incident in the training room had gone much better than you would've ever imagined. Both your dads had been relatively calm once they'd returned from their mission, and surprisingly there had been no screaming, no crying, and no threats towards Peter from Bucky like you'd been picturing. The four of you had sat down together and had a long, mature discussion of what your plans were in terms of raising and caring for your child, and by the end your dads had even seemed enthusiastic about the prospect of being grandparents. Their involvement and excitement had only grown in the following months to the point now that you felt silly for ever having been frightened to tell them. 

And now as you stood watching your boyfriend and dad work together to put your child's room together, tears began collecting in your eyes and you felt your chest warm with feelings of overwhelming love. Steve, noticing your tears, moved to wrap his arms around you and you leaned your head against his shoulder. Rubbing your belly lovingly, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude wash over you for the men in your life and love for the little one that you'd all be meeting soon. 

[bemylord]

aot boys as your boyfriend

♡ character: eren, erwin, armin, jean.

♡ warnings: fluff, gender neutral, some curse words.

♡ note: it's my vision of how aot boyzz will act if they'd fell in love with ya. i already did with levi, so i give a link to that chapter.

ᴇʀᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀɢᴇʀ

you've been stuck in his head the whole night. he has daydreamed about you almost every night.

eren isn't the weak boy who'd be scared to tell you his feelings, just he has some insecurities about it. maybe he feels something because you did awake his titan when nobody can't do that; maybe because he was listening to your voice while he was a titan.

you're dexterous and have some skills in how to kill titans. eren thought maybe your ancestors are ackerman?

but he decidedly tunes himself to ask you on a date. 'y/n, are you busy?' 'nope, eren, is something wrong?' 'yes, no, but.. would you mind to go on a date with me?' so, you had your first date under stars, gazing at the shooting star and made a wish. after that night, you entered into a relationship with a titan boy, without even knowing it.

eren'd call you love or baby. even if you both are in the public, he doesn't care what whoever will say: you're his lover and he wants to make it obvious to everyone.

when you inside walls, having a quiet, kinda day-off from the training and cleaning, eren calls it cuddie-day. why? nothing better to do than having you in his muscular arms, burying his face into your hair and finally rest. you both have a chat about nothing, just half-muttering 'til you both fall asleep.

it's kinda egoist but when you two outside the wall, eren'll keep an eye on you. he kills titans within twenty meters faster than you, so you could continue riding.

his palms have calluses and scars from the fight that he had in the past, but you think it's manly. you always rub his rough skin when you've got the opportunity. for eren, he'll do everything for you just so you keep rubbing his scabrous skin.

during the cuddle session, yeager will cover your face with quick but gentle kisses, holding your jawline delicate, pattering on your cheeks with his thumb.

eren tries to make you feel happy and loveable no matter what. also makes sure that you're knowing that you're safe and protected by him.

you should whisper in his ear dirty phrase, as he gets in the mood right away.

ᴇʀᴡɪɴ ꜱᴍɪᴛʜ

you're his hope and support, his sun and his moon. you mean a lot to him.

overprotective bby. before every expedition, he'll insist on you to stay inside the wall. it's not about trust, it's about he'll be focusing on you, he'll certify every second you aren't surrounded by the titans and you've enough gas.

still, he prefers you to be home, waiting for him. the thought of you biding your captain and lover, gives him the energy to come home safe.

he allows you to wash and treat his wounds after a mission. you kiss his tensed muscular, giving him a soothing back massage, running your hands on his body. 'you finally home, my love. other people and i are safe because of you and your teammates. i'm very proud of you'

after an exhausted and long trip, he asks for a few days off to spend with you.

as your captain, he needs to make sure you're strong and have knowledge of how to kill enemies.

erwin's palms are huge, so you're comparing your hand by pressing your palms in his. after years of using the vertical maneuvering equipment, he also has some calluses. the captain loves those moments when you're interlacing hands, despite his coarse skin. 'do you like hold my hands even if they're unpleasant to the touch?' you laughed, kissed his outer part of the palm. 'yes i do, captain, and i do like kissing them'

his confident way of speaking, you consider as something cute at him.

you need to obey, that erwin is dominant in the relationship.

his favorite kiss is neck or collarbone; pressing the lips against your smooth area around the neck, wrapping his arms around your waist, and mumbles some phrases - best way to kiss.

erwin calls you sweetie or honey. everyone in the survey corps knows you both are dating.

no one from organizations will dare to flirt or say something rude to you: whether it's military or scout regimen. it's quite simple, they're scared to die or be eaten alive by a titan. 'y/n, honey, i just want you to know that i love you' 'i love you too, my love' before and after mission, in the morning or before you both go to sleep, during cuddle, erwin tells you a lot of i love you's

ᴊᴇᴀɴ ᴋɪʀꜱᴄʜᴛᴇɪɴ

i guess jean is the kind of boyfriend who'd hold you by your waist all the time when you're at the public.

those tender and affectional quick kiss on your lips while holding your hands in his.

jean knows what he does whilst kissing you if you get what i mean; holding your waist or he runs his finger down your cheek, drawing patterns on them. in the beginning, jean was timid and uncertain about his movements, he hesitant about what he can do, what he can't. now, he determined the way he kisses his lover.

he likes to brag about you a lot. if someone from the corps is looking at you, he talks to them like that: 'are you jealous that they chose me, not you? get the fuck off them, bastard, or else i'll punch in the face'

he's kinda yandere if someone is staring at you.

if you were brat to him or you had been annoying him for some reason, he'd press you against the wall, holds your hands above your head, smirking at your face expression: he took off guard, you helpless and vulnerable. 'you had been a brat, y/n. do you want my kisses or something more? anyways, i'm here to give everything you've been craving for'

at those moments, jean being as cocky as he could be. he's dominant, controlling your movements, and impudent as fuck.

funny-unfunny jokes; compliments a lot if you feel chagrin or downtrodden. he understood you've been through some difficult problems, and living in the world when you need literally survive every day is sick. that's why jean wants to be your sun and the person who'll protect you.

he prefers to call you heartie [because you got the key to his heart] or angel. 'in the world full of ravenous titans, i want to be the one who makes you smile, heartie. take my hand in your, and let's create our world together'

ᴀʀᴍɪɴ ᴀʀʟᴇᴛ

armin is a sweet boy, who'd treat you like a queen.

read a book before fall asleep. you lay down on his chest, listening his calm voice, falling asleep. it's his preferred to end the day.

far beyond the wall, you are acting in unison: he protected you, you protected him. while he's thinking about a strategy you're killing titans or vice versa.

his hugs are warm and cozy. he put his palms at your back, rubbing your skin through the fabric or if you had some spicy night, pattering on your back indecipherable traces;

those dialogues with a cup of tea, when you half-muttering, in the room, that illuminated by the candles, enjoying that atmosphere.

armin loves to take a bath with you. delicately washing your skin, especially if you've got wounds or injuries. once you fell asleep whilst armin was cleaning you.

i think armin would switch. he likes being a dominant one, having right as he wants to, but he also likes when you're taking the control of his body.

armin has small palms with long fingers, milky skin. his hands always warm and delectable to the touch. in addition, armin is a touchy-feely man: he enjoys hugging or interlacing fingers.

idk why but i think armin'd like to have midnight walks on small alleys in the town, dreaming to change this place. he lives here in fear of the unknown what will be next, so armin'll do everything that he could do.

you capture his spirit, make him lose his breath when you smack your lips against his one's. those spontaneous kisses, you know.

occasionally, he gets sudden bursts of tenderness lol but hear me out: you both are doing nothing or training together when suddenly armin wants to kiss or cuddle you. it's just something tantalizing feeling he got. 'you're so beautiful right now, y/n, i want to give you a kiss' 'only now?' you smiled, receiving a shy kiss. armin blushed at your words; he doesn't mean you look unattractive yesterday or something like that. 'i'm sorry, baby, i didn't mean it, i-' 'i've got you, love, don't worry. let me give my kiss' armin gave you a thousand kisses later, as a token of his infinite love for you.

//~~//

yeap i did it. soon part 3 with tsukki-tsukki.

tomorrow i'll post a request with tsukki and do the rest with aot boys.

[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part One

----

Part Two

25.12.19

When I woke up in the morning, it took me a moment to figure out where I was and why the pillow my head was resting on was so hard and warm. Once I'd figured it out - that my head was not actually on a pillow, but on Chris' chest - I almost had to roll my eyes. Of course it was. Of course we'd ended up all cuddled together. Because life was just one big romantic comedy, right?

I sighed quietly, silently praying that Chris wasn't awake yet as I slowly slid myself away from him. He didn't stir until I was sitting on the edge of the bed so I was hopeful that he hadn't been aware of the position we were in.

"G'morning," he greeted me, rubbing his eyes as the sound of excited children echoed down the hallway. "What time is it?"

I quickly checked my phone on the nightstand before answering.

"Only seven o'clock," I told him before yawning. "But it sounds like everyone is up and bouncing off the walls already."

"I'm not surprised," Chris smiled. "They've probably torn into all the presents by now."

I laughed and nodded my head, knowing it was a good possibility.

"It probably wasn't super smart to leave Scott out there guarding them by himself," I pointed out. "Not after he spent half the night shaking his own presents trying to guess what was inside."

"Oh, it definitely wasn't," Chris agreed. "He was always the one who ruined things by finding his presents early and getting us all in trouble."

"Well, I should go see what they're up to or if anything can be salvaged," I smiled as I pulled a sweater on over my pyjamas. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute," he assured me. I headed to the door, but stopped when I heard his voice again. "Hey, Whitney? Merry Christmas."

I smiled even wider as that happy, familiar Christmas morning feeling washed over me.

"Merry Christmas, Chris."

With that, I hurried out the door, trying not to focus too much on how content I felt and how right it seemed to wake up in his arms on Christmas morning.

-

When I got to the kitchen, I was surprised to see that everyone else was already awake, despite how early it was.

"Good morning," Lisa greeted me as I wandered into the kitchen where all the adults were congregating. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, everyone," I smiled before they all repeated it back to me. "Did I miss all the fun?"

"No, of course not," Carly assured me. "We've managed to keep them away from the presents so far, but I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them off."

"We're still waiting for Chris though," Scott pointed out as I grabbed a clean mug and headed to the fresh pot of coffee on the counter. "Have you seen him? He disappeared not long after we went to bed and never came back."

"Oh, yeah, he's in his room," I answered mindlessly as I filled my mug. "We ended up sleeping together last night."

I heard Scott almost choke on his coffee and noticed the sudden silence in the room, but it wasn't until Lisa spoke that I realized what I'd said.

"Whitney, honey," she said, speaking softly. "What do you mean?"

"Oh my god, no! Not like that!" I rushed to explain as my cheeks grew hot. "We literally slept together, like as in slept next to each other. Chris came into his room looking for a sweater because he was cold and had given away all his spare blankets so I offered for him to share the bed with me. That's all, I swear."

There were knowing smiles amongst the group and I wasn't entirely sure that they all believed me which made things even more embarrassing as I wouldn't want them to think I'd talk so candidly about things like that with Chris' mother of all people. Before I had a chance to continue desperately defending myself though, a voice from the doorway interrupted.

"What are you swearing about?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. "Why do I feel like I missed something good?"

Again, I was ready to explain, but someone beat me to it.

"Whitney was just giving us the update," Scott informed his older brother as he matched his smirk. "She was telling us how you two slept together."

Chris' eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment before he relaxed and let out a chuckle.

"Well, that's not exactly how I would have phrased it," he informed the group with a shrug. "But I suppose it is accurate. We slept and we were together."

"I just misspoke," I groaned. "I haven't had any coffee yet, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"A little Freudian slip?" Carly suggested as she joined in on the teasing, but I simply rolled my eyes.

"Chris probably wishes that was a peak into my subconscious desires, but I'm afraid not. Just a clear sign that I am not a morning person."

"I think we'll all need plenty of coffee to deal with the energy in that living room," Lisa interjected, putting an end to the discussion despite Chris' protests of my claim. "But we should probably go and join them before they open all the presents, whether they belong to them or not."

We all murmured in agreement and everyone topped up whatever beverage they were drinking before we headed to the living room to start the Christmas fun.

-

"Mama!" Grayson shouted as we entered the room. "Look! Santa came!"

"Of course he did," I smiled at the children. "You've all been good this year so it's no surprise."

They all nodded and agreed enthusiastically except Ethan who, now that he was almost ten, had figured out the truth. He was a good kid though and a loving older brother so he kept the secret, quietly watching them with a knowing smile now that he was finally in on the joke with the adults.

"Can we open them?" Stella asked, bouncing up and down from holding in her excitement. "We've been waiting for so long!"

"I wouldn't say so long," Scott chuckled. "Since it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet!"

"But, yes, you can open them," Carly informed her children. "Just be careful and don't rush."

There was a flurry of activity as the kids dove into the presents, organizing whose was whose before settling down next to their little piles. I took a step back and sat on the couch next to Lisa, letting Chris sit on the floor behind Grayson. It was his Christmas after all and it felt right that he should be the one helping him open presents. Plus, this way I got a perfect view of the joyful grin that was plastered on his face. A grin that was perfectly replicated by his father behind him making my heart clench at the sight of them together like this.

I watched from my spot on the couch as the gifts were opened one by one and soaked in every giggle and shriek of glee from the children. Grayson was on top of the world and so grateful for each and every gift, it was delightful to see. Given our financial security, especially for Chris, it would have been easy to spoil him, but it made me incredibly proud to see how gracious he was.

However, one of the last gifts he wasn't so grateful to receive. It was from me and I knew there was a chance it wouldn't be his favourite, but his response was far worse than I could have imagined.

It was a decent sized box and he tore off the wrapping paper eagerly, intrigued by what could be inside. When he revealed that it was a foot and a half tall electronic T-Rex, his first reaction was one of amazement.

"Wow! A dinosaur!"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Take him out and see what he can do."

Chris set to work helping Grayson open the box before glancing up at me.

"Does he need batteries?"

"I put some in already," I assured him. "I knew he'd want to see it right away so I thought it would be easier."

He nodded as Grayson placed the giant T-Rex on the floor and looked at me expectantly.

"There's a button on his back, press it."

Everyone watched as he poked around until he got the right spot and the dinosaur came to life. He roared and his head moved around, but as the older kids cheered and clapped, Grayson burst into tears.

"Oh, dear..." Lisa smiled as she watched her grandson leap into his father's arms.

Everyone was chuckling at his dramatic reaction as Grayson buried his face in Chris' neck.

"Awe, buddy, I'm sorry!" I apologized. "Did it scare you?"

"Yes! He's scary!" Grayson's response was muffled by Chris' body and hard to understand through his sobs. "I don't wike it, Mama!"

I smiled at the little speech impediment that he inherited from his father - much like the one his cousin, Miles, had - but I did feel bad for how genuinely afraid he was.

"I'm sorry, baby. We can take the batteries out, okay? Then he won't be able to move."

The dinosaur had stopped moving on his own before I spoke and Grayson moved his head from where he was hiding his face, nodding as he did so.

"Yes, please."

"I bought it a while ago, thinking it was the perfect gift and then last week, he suddenly decided that T-Rexes were mean and I thought it might not go down so well," I admitted to the adults as I stretched forward to pick up the dinosaur and take the batteries out. "It's such a shame though, I think he's adorable. If you press the button on his tail, a little song plays and he does a little wiggle dance."

Chris smirked at me as he rubbed our still sniffling son's back.

"Why don't you take him home? Sounds like you might enjoy playing with him when Grayson isn't around."

He was making fun of me, I knew he was, but I didn't take the bait.

"You know what? I might just do that."

Chris opened his mouth to most likely make another teasing comment, but Ethan interrupted him.

"If Grayson doesn't want the T-Rex, can I have it?"

"I think you got enough new toys this morning," Ethan's dad warned him. "Don't be greedy."

"We'll let Grayson keep him for now," Chris agreed. "He might get used to him after a while if he plays with him without the batteries."

I passed the toy in question back to Chris and Grayson cowered away, whimpering against his dad's chest.

"Just leave it for now," I suggested. "We can try it again later when the initial shock has worn off."

Chris nodded and put the dinosaur behind his back and out of sight.

-

The rest of the gift opening went by smoothly and no more children were traumatized. Once every gift that was under the tree had been opened, we left the kids to test out their new things while the adults headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. It was quickly decided that pancakes would be the easiest thing to mass produce for our large group of hungry people and while Lisa, Carly and I started mixing up a few bowls of batter, Chris and Scott whipped out the orange juice and champagne for mimosas.

An hour later everyone was very full and we were two bottles of champagne down.

"So, Whitney," Scott started as he loaded up the dishwasher. "Are you staying here tonight too or are you planning on making us spend half the day shovelling the driveway for you?"

His tone was teasing, but as I looked out the window at the deep blanket of snow that covered the ground outside, I was torn. I didn't want to outstay my welcome by staying another night, but I also didn't want to make the Evans family spend their entire Christmas day shovelling snow and there was no way that I'd be able to do it by myself.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I wasn't planning on staying another night, but it does look like there's a lot of snow out there..."

"Just stay," Chris shrugged. "Even if we can get your car down the driveway, the roads are probably terrible."

"There's no need for you to rush off," Lisa agreed. "Stay another night and then you can just relax and enjoy the day."

"And you can drink if you're not driving home," Scott pointed out with a grin. "Chris and I stocked up on wine, beer, whiskey and gin, these mimosas were just the start of the party."

I couldn't help, but laugh at Scott's reasoning as I nodded my head.

"Alright, I'll stay. If you really don't mind, Chris?"

"Of course not," Chris assured me. "We're happy to have you."

"Great!" Scott grinned. "I'm glad that's settled, I think this calls for another round of drinks!"

Chris cheered and jumped up to help him while the rest of us smiled and shook our heads at their antics.

-

The day was spent soaking in quality family time, watching the kids enjoy their new toys and indulging in lots of food and drink. We called Chris' dad and my parents and even had an unexpected phone call from my Uncle Rob. He spent more time talking to Chris than me, his own niece, but it was nice to hear his voice even if he made sure to get a dig in about me confessing my supposedly obvious feelings to Chris.

Sitting around the table, eating a delicious meal with Chris' loving and welcoming family was quite a contrast to how I expected to spend the day and I was very grateful that Chris had included me. Grayson seemed to appreciate it too and he made his enjoyment clear as we tucked him into bed once all the fun and feasting was done.

Chris sat on the floor leaning against Grayson's nightstand, reading him his favourite bedtime story while I laid on the bed next to him and rubbed his back. He was drifting off by the time the story was finished, but he was fighting it desperately as he spoke again.

"I'm happy, Mama," he told us, his words muffled as he nuzzled into his pillow.

Chris put his hand over his heart as he mouthed an 'awe' at me and I smiled.

"You're happy?" I clarified quietly, my smile growing as he nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, baby."

"I like that you're here," he mumbled. "Daddy should come home with us too."

My heart clenched at that request as my smile faltered. I knew it was only a matter of time until Grayson paid more attention to the fact that his time was divided between two homes, but I wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

"Maybe Daddy could come for a sleepover sometime," I suggested, stroking his hair back out of his face, but that wasn't all he wanted.

"He should come all the time."

I was never great at hiding my emotions and from the way Chris was watching me, I assumed my distress at Grayson's comments was written all over my face and I was grateful when he jumped into the conversation.

"But what about Dodger?"

Dodger's ears perked up from his spot at the end of the bed, but he settled again when he realized that Chris wasn't calling for him.

"He can come too," was Grayson's answer to that dilemma, but Chris had a response at the ready.

"C'mon, you think Dodger would have enough space in your Ma's apartment?" He asked. "He needs a big house like this to run around in!"

So then we could all just stay here would be the logical comeback to that, but it seemed our sleepy little guy was too tuckered out from the excitement to argue. He let out a little sigh of defeat, but said no more. We stayed quiet for a few minutes until his breathing shifted and he was soundly asleep.

Chris offered me his hand to help me climb over Grayson without waking him up and, after whispering a quiet request to Dodger to keep our boy safe, he led me out of the room.

"You okay?"

The question came as soon as Grayson's door was pulled to and we were in the hallway.

"Yeah, of course," I nodded, forcing a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Chris shot me a look that clearly showed his disbelief.

"You looked pretty downhearted in there."

"I just worry," I shrugged. "I don't want our situation to upset him and I know he's going to notice it more as he gets older."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly. "He's got so much love in his life, he won't even notice that his family is a little different."

I wasn't convinced. He was obviously already noticing or he wouldn't have questioned it only moments before. I didn't want to start such a delicate, potentially tense conversation at the end of such a happy day though so I forced a more convincing smile onto my face.

"You're right," I agreed. "But I wouldn't be a mom if I didn't worry."

"Well, there's no time for worryin' on Christmas!" Chris claimed, followed by a grin as he dragged me off towards the kitchen. "What can I get you? Another wine? Maybe some gin? I might have some tequila kickin' around here somewhere..."

"No! No tequila!" I laughed. "Gin would be great, thanks."

Chris nodded and set to work mixing our beverages for the evening before we went to the living room to rejoin his family and I did my best to push any worries about letting Grayson down out of my mind.

-

After the kids were all in bed, the rest of the evening was spent playing games and sharing drinks. It was heartwarming, wholesome family fun and I was so glad that Scott had encouraged me to stay as the thought of rushing home to my cold, empty apartment wasn't at all appealing.

The only strange thing about the evening was Chris. We were teamed up for most of the games and it was quite amazing how in tune with each other we were as we won everything by a landslide. We'd been friends for a long time and knew each other very well so it was unsurprising to me that we had so much success, but the teasing comments that came from a rather drunk Scott implied other reasons than friendship for our harmony. I scoffed and rolled my eyes every time he cracked a joke about us, but Chris seemed to love it. He was a few drinks in and probably just feeling a little goofy, but the grin on his face after every suggestive comment sparked an odd feeling in my stomach.

It was around ten o'clock when everyone except Chris, Scott and I decided to go to bed. We bid them goodnight and Chris went to top up our drinks before settling back onto the couch beside me. By this time, I was definitely feeling it. I wasn't drunk, but I knew this drink would have to be my last as the flush of my cheeks and the happy, fuzzy feeling in my brain was telling me that it was time to wind it down for the night.

However, as Chris handed me another gin and soda, settled on the couch next to me, placed his drink on the end table beside him and pulled my feet into his lap, my mind suddenly felt surprisingly sharp.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a giggle slipping from my lips.

"Releasing some tension."

As he answered, he began a slow massage of my left foot and I couldn't help, but smile at how wonderful it felt.

"Releasing?" Scott snorted a laugh. "Sure, a foot rub is known for getting rid of tension, not making it worse."

Chris smirked at what Scott was insinuating, but seemed unbothered by it.

"Don't be jealous," he teased, but now it was my turn to smirk.

"Of what?" I questioned. "This foot rub? It's not that great, Scott."

Scott laughed as Chris gasped a tad over dramatically.

"Not that great? I offer you a free foot rub and you can't even be fuckin' grateful?"

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really offended. He did stop massaging my feet though and I whined in protest as he picked up his drink.

"A mediocre foot rub is better than nothing," I pouted. "Keep going."

Chris sipped his whiskey, the smile on his face morphing back into a smirk as he shook his head again, but he did let his hand rest over my ankles and I was happy for even that tiny bit of contact.

Scott changed the subject to some viral video he saw the other day and Chris laughed and chatted along as he absentmindedly let his hand drift up my shin, underneath the loose pyjama pants that I'd changed into shortly after we put Grayson to bed.

My mind was instantly taken back to another time when we'd shared such gentle touches. A time when his lips followed his fingers as they traced kisses up from my ankle all the way to the lacy edge of my underwear. A time when he'd then proceeded to pull that underwear off with his teeth before returning his face back to a very sensitive area.

"Whitney, have you seen it?"

Scott's question snapped me out of my racy daydream. I felt my cheeks flush with colour as I forced my gaze away from Chris' hand over to Scott, reminding myself that even though the look on Chris' face would make it seem otherwise, he couldn't possibly know what I was just thinking of.

"Uh, no, I haven't," I admitted, sipping my drink to try to cool myself down even though it was becoming apparent to me that I needed to slow down my alcohol consumption. "All I seem to watch these days is Paw Patrol."

Chris barked out a laugh and nodded.

"So much Paw Patrol," he agreed. "The kid's obsessed."

"Chase is on the case!" I giggled before changing my voice slightly. "Rubble on the double!"

"Oh my god," Scott laughed, a horrified look on his face. "We need to get you out more."

I shrugged as Chris continued to trace patterns on my shins.

"That's the life of a mom."

"Yeah, but what about when he's with Chris? You must have some sort of life then."

"Scott."

Chris' voice was harsh and warning as what Scott was implying could be taken as offensive, but I wasn't bothered.

"It's fine," I assured him. "I know I'm lame. I don't have much of my own life, I don't really know anyone around here."

"You have Allison," Chris pointed out. "You've mentioned her a lot. She's your friend, right?"

He was referring to my one and only friend in Massachusetts. She was also a photographer and we'd met at a camera store when I first moved here. She'd asked me a question about a new brand of film and we'd ended up having coffee to exchange tips. She realized quickly that I didn't know many people in town and had taken me under her wing.

"She is," I nodded. "But she has three kids of her own and she's married so she doesn't have weeks where she's child free like I do. We hang out when we can, but usually it's with all the kids, not like quality 'girl time'."

"I didn't know that," Chris frowned. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't feel bad for me." I nudged him with my foot. "I have plenty of friends, they're just in LA. I'm happy here."

"I'll take you out for drinks one day," Scott promised. "Even if you're happy, everyone needs to let their hair down a little bit sometimes."

"That would be fun," I smiled, tossing back the last of my drink. "But for now, I think I've let my hair down enough for today. It's time for me to get to bed before all these drinks go to my head."

I slid my feet off of Chris' lap and slowly stood up as he looked up at me.

"Are you cool if I bunk with you again tonight?"

"Of course," I nodded. "Just sneak in quietly if you two stay up too late."

"I'm ready to crash already," Scott informed us. "So, we won't be up much later."

"Okay. Well, goodnight boys," I waved as I headed towards the door. "Thank you for a lovely day."

They chorused a goodnight back to me before I walked down the hall.

-

I was just coming out of the en suite in Chris' bedroom after brushing my teeth when Chris strolled into the room.

"Hey," I smiled. "Ready for bed already?"

"Scott wasn't lying," he returned my smile. "He was half asleep by the time you made it down the hall."

I laughed as I crawled into bed and settled against the pillows.

"Well, it has been a busy day."

Chris agreed as he grabbed his pyjama pants and headed to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from where I left it on the nightstand, turned off the lamp on my side of the bed and answered a few text messages from my family, figuring I may as well wait the few minutes it would take Chris to get ready for bed before I attempted to get any sleep. When Chris reappeared, I locked my phone again, put it back on the nightstand and snuggled down under the blankets, trying not to stare too much at his chiselled torso. He wasted no time turning off the lamp on his side as well before slipping in next to me, shivering dramatically as he pulled the blankets up over his chest.

"It's so freakin' cold tonight."

I snorted a laugh, shaking my head even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me until our eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Maybe if you put on a shirt you wouldn't feel it so much."

"Honestly," Chris started, the smirk evident in his tone despite his face still being hidden in shadow. "Usually, I just sleep naked so these pants are for your benefit."

I felt my cheeks flush as the words 'then by all means, take them off' were on the tip of my tongue. I forced them out of my mind as a long forgotten tingle rolled through my body and I focused on answering him.

"My point was that a t-shirt would provide you with extra warmth," I explained. "So, your point that you usually wear less clothing makes no sense."

The bed shifted slightly as Chris chuckled.

"Well, I can think of another thing that could provide some extra warmth."

"What?"

I felt my heart rate pick up, the blood rushing through my ears so fast that I hardly heard myself answer him as I wondered if he could possibly be implying what it seemed like he was implying.

"You." His voice was low, the same seductive tone he'd used all those years ago, and I felt my mouth go dry. "Come give me a cuddle."

For a moment, I thought I was a lot drunker than I'd realized and that I was hallucinating or in some kind of lucid dream, but that thought brought me to a different realization.

"Chris!" I whispered, my tone scolding and accusatory. "You're drunk!"

A burst of laughter came from the other side of the bed and I quickly shushed him, knowing Grayson was asleep in the room above us.

"I'm not drunk, I promise," Chris assured me as his raucous laughter came under control. "I just thought it was worth a shot. It's nice to have a little cuddle with a beautiful woman sometimes."

I felt another flush of heat run through me, but I rolled my eyes and, as I had the night before, I took a pillow and placed it between us, drawing a clear line in the sand even if that hadn't worked out so well the last time.

"Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight, Whitney."

I rolled over, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

I did try. I really, really did.

But after almost ten minutes of thoughts whirring through my head, I knew it was hopeless and I turned back to face Chris. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see well enough to know that he was laying on his back so I carefully moved the pillow that I'd placed between us and slowly slid over towards him. I felt him tense so I knew he was awake, but he didn't question what I was doing so I continued until my head was on his chest and my arm was draped over his stomach. He stayed perfectly still, just long enough for me to start second guessing myself before he shifted slightly to put his arm around me.

We stayed like that, holding each other in silence, and I had to admit that Chris was right. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with. The physical contact was filling a hole in my touch-starved heart and I tried not to think about how fleeting of a moment it was or how things would be back to normal in the light of day. There was a strange ache in my heart at that thought and I knew I needed to get out of my head.

"Chris?" My voice was soft, just in case he'd drifted off in the last few minutes, but when he tightened his grip on me, I knew he was still awake. "Thank you for inviting me today."

"Of course." He squeezed a little tighter. "I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner."

"It's fine," I assured him, letting my hand lazily trace patterns on his skin. "You're under no obligation, you're allowed your time with Grayson without me."

"It's not about obligation. I'd never want you to spend Christmas alone even if Grayson wasn't in the picture."

"I was really dreading it."

My admission made me feel vulnerable as I'd spent so long trying to pretend that I wasn't bothered by the idea of a lonely holiday, but Chris didn't seem surprised.

"Really?" He questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The crying onto your steering wheel didn't give that away at all."

"Shut up," I mumbled, turning my face into his chest to hide my smile at his teasing. "I'm just trying to express my gratitude for your kindness."

"No gratitude is needed. It's been my pleasure having you here today and Grayson loved it."

He kissed the top of my head after he'd finished speaking and almost reflexively, I found myself stretching up and placing a soft kiss of my own against his collarbone. It felt intimate and the moment hung heavy between us. It felt right to me, but I knew instantly that I'd crossed a line. A comforting kiss on the top of my head was one thing, but what I'd done, kissing his bare chest, was inappropriate. My cheeks burned as I tilted my head up to look at him, meeting his eyes as they looked down at me. His expression was unreadable so I opened my mouth to apologize only to be completely shocked when he pressed his head forward and his lips against mine.

The shock quickly morphed into a feeling that could only be described as euphoria. There was something distantly familiar about the way his mouth moved on mine, but it felt strange and new as it wasn't exactly as I'd remembered - and I had spent more time than I'd want to admit reliving the last time we'd shared a kiss like this.

It wasn't until he pressed his tongue against my lips, in an attempt to deepen the kiss, that I snapped out of my daze.

"Chris, wait," I breathed out as I pulled away and stared up at him, my cheeks now flushed much more from excitement than embarrassment. "We shouldn't do this."

"Says who?"

The little voice in my head telling me that I'm about to ruin everything that we've worked hard to create. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but as he smirked down at me and licked his lips as if he was preparing for what was to come, I found myself incapable of logic and reason.

"Doesn't matter."

Chris hardly had time to acknowledge my answer before I dove back in for another kiss, moving to a more comfortable position as I straddled his waist.

He completely overwhelmed my senses. The inescapable scent of him surrounding me, the feel of his strong body between my thighs and the soft little sighs of enjoyment that he kept making every time our lips parted for us to take a breath. None of it was doing anything to ease the ache that was growing between my legs and my hands gripped into the sheets where they rested just above his shoulders as I pulled back to look down at him. I needed to see his face to remind myself this was really happening and who it was really happening with as it still felt so unreal.

Chris smiled up at me, his lips looking plumper already, and let his hands settle on my hips to keep me steady.

"You okay?"

I nodded and leaned down to peck his lips again before answering.

"I've never been better."

Chris' smile only widened at that confirmation and he moved his hands down to cup my bum, pressing my hips forward and giving me a moment of friction that I'd been desperately craving. I pressed myself up, pulling my upper body away from him as a gasp fell from my lips and my eyes squeezed shut. I was embarrassingly aroused from a few mere minutes of kisses, but it had been a very long time since I'd had any physical contact with a man and my body was already on fire.

I rocked my hips against the toned muscles of his abdomen, soaking in the pleasure that was radiating through me and I was debating whether it would be rude of me to continue until I reached the release that was quickly building inside me. Clearly, Chris was just as intuitive as I remembered as he let out a groan and effortlessly flipped us over so he was on top.

"Not like that," he smirked. "I've been thinking about this for too long, it's not happening like that."

I felt another flush of embarrassment as he could obviously tell what I'd been thinking about doing, but I nodded in agreement.

"But if this is really happening, we need to be quiet," I reminded him. "Everyone's sleeping."

"They're all upstairs, they won't hear," he assured me. "And Scott's on the other side of the house."

He was right, we'd be fine as long as we kept ourselves under control, but it didn't matter anyway as all my doubts disappeared when his lips pressed against my neck. I let my hands slide around his waist, resting on his toned back while his lips continued their trail down my neck and stretched the neck line of my shirt to expose my shoulder. His lips locked onto one spot just above my collarbone, sucking and nipping until I was sure there would be a bruise there in the morning.

"Chris," I gasped out, digging my fingernails into his back. "Don't leave a mark."

He backed off a bit, kissing gently against the now sensitive skin.

"It'll be easy to hide," he assured me. "And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed a few bites here and there..."

He opened his mouth to dig his teeth into my shoulder and an image flashed into my mind. A memory of me, bent over with Chris' thumb on my clit as the two fingers he had inside me stroked a particularly delicate spot. He'd placed a soft kiss on the cheek of my bum before sinking his teeth into my skin, sending me over the edge.

I couldn't help, but moan from the combination of the memory and the sensation of his teeth in my shoulder as my hips pressed up against his. Chris seemed to be spurred on by that action as he ground his hips against mine and quickly let his hands slide down to the bottom of my shirt. He lifted it up and for a moment I was lost in the bliss of the sensations he was providing, but as my shirt was raised just past my belly button, I froze.

"Wait!"

My voice firm and demanding and he immediately responded, stopping his actions and looking up to meet my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I bit my bottom lip as I pondered how to voice my concerns. If I didn't say anything, there was a chance that we could get through this without drawing any attention to it, but I couldn't help but think it was better to point it out than have Chris notice on his own.

"I just..." I breathed out, trying to figure out how to articulate my thoughts. "I just look different now."

"What?"

Chris pulled back even further, looking down at me with genuine confusion in his eyes and my cheeks burned as I tried to puzzle out how to explain my feelings in a way that didn't make me look shockingly insecure.

"Since I had Grayson, since the last time we did this," I clarified, my cheeks burning as I brought my flaws to his attention. "I look different. Like, I have stretch marks and my boobs aren't as perky as they used to be."

Even in the dark shadows of the room, I could see Chris' jaw clench as it did when he was annoyed and trying to bite his tongue. Panic flooded through me as I wished I'd kept my mouth shut, but his next words astounded me.

"Get outta here," he huffed. "You think I care about that?"

I dropped my gaze to the tattoos on his chest as I regretted ever opening my mouth.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Lots of men probably would."

Chris moved back, slowly sliding his body down, away from mine and I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop him and hold him against me as long as I could, but I was powerless to do anything, but watch. My heart sank, thinking he was going to roll off of me any minute now, but then he stopped. His face was level with my lower stomach and turned his eyes back towards my face.

"This body," he started, placing a kiss on my stomach. "This stomach, these stretch marks." He kissed the faint lines that were now barely visible on my skin despite how vibrant they were in my mind. Then he continued up, lifting my shirt as he went until it was resting above my breasts, my nipples hard from the chill in the air and the anticipation I was feeling. "These boobs." He kissed and nipped at the delicate skin, tracing all the way along until he captured a nipple in his mouth, teasing it briefly with his tongue. "They changed because you gave me my son, the greatest gift you could have given me. I have nothing, but gratitude for that and you're still the most fuckin' beautiful woman I've ever seen."

He was exaggerating. I knew he was exaggerating. He saw and worked with Hollywood's most elite actresses and models, there was no chance that I was even close to the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. But he managed, again, to push all doubts from my mind as his lips set to work, this time focusing on my left nipple while he shifted his weight and freed a hand to stroke and pinch the right.

They were sensitive, they always had been, and the way that Chris was working them right now was almost too much. My head fell back and my hands dropped to the sheets as I tried to focus on enjoying the sensations and not immediately demanding for Chris to move lower, to give me more, to touch me where I wanted to be touched with increasing need. He was always paying attention though and before I even needed to voice my request, he let his mouth slip from my nipple and trail back down my stomach.

He nipped at the skin just above my pyjama pants before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. I tugged my shirt over my head at the same time before laying back against the pillow, completely naked underneath him.

"Beautiful."

He'd muttered the word, almost more to himself than to me, but the sincerity in his voice flooded a new kind of warmth through my body. I tried to push it down, focusing on what we were doing, what this was and all it could be. Because yes, I loved Chris, but this wasn't that. This wasn't making love, this was a simple release of sexual tension. I didn't need my feelings getting in the way and making this complicated or I was going to get myself hurt.

I'd been so lost in my head that I hadn't noticed how my legs had fallen apart for Chris to settle between them or how he'd spread me with his fingers, opening me up for him to enjoy. It wasn't until I felt a slow, gentle lick right over my clit that I snapped back into the moment. With a gasp, my hips pressed up to meet his mouth, trying frantically to keep the friction now that it was finally there.

"Easy," Chris warned me, chuckling as he pulled back slightly, earning a whine from me. "We'll get you there, don't worry."

A feeling of desperation was building up inside of me and as he blew gently on the very sensitive parts of me that were in front of him, I was about ready to start begging.

"Please," I whimpered, moving my hand to his hair in case he got any bright ideas about pulling back any further, but I was relieved when he let out a groan and finally gave up on his teasing.

Suddenly I was aware of nothing, but Chris' mouth on me. My back arched as he licked up from the bottom of my core to the top, swirling his tongue around, exploring every little nook and cranny before settling his focus back on my clit. It was like he'd studied me, like he'd committed our previous brief encounter to memory and remembered exactly what I responded to as he licked and sucked with just the right amount of pressure and speed to have me panting as my grip tightened in his hair.

It had only been moments, but I could already feel the pressure building inside me, bubbling closer towards the surface. Chris, as if sensing this, eased off just slightly to slide his tongue a bit lower, pressing it against my entrance, dipping just barely inside, before replacing it with one of his fingers. I felt myself clench at the sensation, my body desperate for relief, desperate for something more inside me and Chris obliged, adding a second finger almost immediately.

"So wet, baby," he hummed, placing a kiss on the inside of my upper thigh.

I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure to formulate any kind of response, but Chris didn't bother waiting for one anyway before putting his lips back on my clit. The combination of his fingers and his mouth had me seeing stars and another whimpered plea slipped from my lips as he flicked his tongue against me. He was focused and determined, groaning against me after a particularly sharp tug on his hair when he angled his fingers inside me to find that one particular spot that made me see stars.

He stroked it once. Then twice. And on the third that coil that had been tightening inside me snapped. I covered my mouth with my free hand just in time to bite down and muffle the scream that Chris pulled from me as my hips thrust up towards him and I spasmed around his fingers as I fell over the edge.

Chris coaxed me through it, easing his attentions as I came down from the high I was feeling. He slid his fingers out of me, looking up to meet my eyes before licking them clean. I groaned, feeling myself twitch with arousal at the sight despite my heart still racing from the orgasm I had just had. He flashed me a smirk before crawling up my body and pressing his lips against mine again.

I sighed happily into the kiss, letting my hands slide down his back, just teasing the top of his pants as I reluctantly separated our mouths.

"Take these off."

My tone left little room for argument and Chris looked down at me with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am."

He lifted his body off of mine just long enough for me to shiver from the loss of the warmth he was providing, but he quickly returned once his pants were discarded. He stayed slightly lower when he returned, turning his attention back to my chest, taking my left nipple in his mouth this time and using his hand to tease the other. My eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but I fought the urge to simply lie back and let him do what he wanted with me. I wanted more, I needed more and I didn't want to wait any longer.

"Chris," I whined. "Please, fuck me."

Looking down, I could see his eyes widen in surprise at my blunt demand. He let his mouth slip off my nipple before giving it one last little nip, just hard enough to make me gasp from the slight twinge of pain.

"As you wish."

He reached down between us, taking a moment to slip his two fingers back inside me. He spread them out, gently stretching me and I was grateful. From my memory, Chris was thick and it had been approximately three years and five months since I last had sex (not that I was counting).

Once Chris was satisfied that I was adequately prepared, he pulled his fingers back and guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance. I tried to relax as he slowly stretched me open, but even as my mind revelled in the bliss I was feeling, a thought hit me that made my eyes widen and body stiffen.

"Chris!" I gasped out, gripping his shoulders to push him away slightly. "Condom!"

His head dropped down and he grunted as if he was using the last of his restraint to pull out of me.

"Shit," he cursed. "How could we forget that again?"

"I guess we don't learn from our mistakes," I smiled, despite the pang in my heart as the voice in my head chimed in again to say 'clearly not or you wouldn't be about to fuck him and break your own heart again'. "Do you have one?"

Chris nodded, rolling off me for just long enough to reach over to the bedside table. He pulled one out of the drawer, ripped it open and slid it on with impressive speed before crawling back over me.

"Now," he smirked. "Where were we?"

He looked down as he guided himself inside me again. The initial stretch wasn't as intense the second time around, but it grew as he pushed deeper and my breath hitched once he was fully inside. Chris stilled, sensing my discomfort as he dropped his head to kiss along my jaw until his lips rested just below my ear.

"You good?"

"Mhmm," I nodded, breathing out and shifting my hips as I started to adjust. We stayed like that, connected but still, for a few moments until I felt the tension ease a bit. "You can move."

"You sure?" Chris looked at me with concern on his face, but I nodded.

That was all the reassurance he needed as he began slowly moving his hips. He pulled his lips back from where they rested near my ear and pressed them against mine.

He kissed me deeply, passionately, as he created a steady rhythm, sliding in and out with his hips pressing hard against mine with each thrust. His biceps bulged and strained to support his weight through the movement and he eventually let his mouth fall away from mine as he could no longer hold back a groan. That noise, and the grunts that followed, made me twitch around him as if my body was doing everything it could to keep him inside me, to keep the pleasure that it had been craving for so long.

I could feel him dragging against every inch inside me, brushing against every nerve and stretching me just enough to keep me constantly impressed by how big he was. It was somehow too much, but not enough all at the same time and I hitched my leg higher up on his waist to help him get closer, deeper, if at all possible.

"Good girl..."

Chris' words hummed encouragingly against my collarbone where he placed another soft kiss before pulling back. He placed his hand on the back of my knee and lifted it even higher, opening me up for him even more.

My head dropped back against the pillow on the next stroke as his cock slid against that delicious spot inside me where his fingers had been only minutes before. He was watching, looking down between us to see me wrapped around him, see me taking him all the way every time he pushed in. I could hear him mumbling praises, compliments about how well I was doing, but I was too far gone, too wrapped up in the pleasure emanating from between my legs to do anything, but moan in response.

He slowed for a moment, leaning down, my leg catching on his shoulder and pressing it even higher as he reminded me to be quiet. He nipped my ear lobe, pulling a whimper from my lips before moving back and picking his pace up again. I knew he was right, but it was hard, next to impossible even, to hold back the noises that were bubbling in my throat.

I bit my lip and dug my nails into his skin as I attempted to control my volume and silently cursed Chris when he shifted his weight just enough to put the pressure of each thrust back on just the right spot. He moved his thumb down to brush over my clit, but it barely took a few strokes for me to fly over the edge.

It felt like my whole world exploded as I clenched around him, a low moan slipping past the lip between my teeth. The tingle ripped through every part of my body, every muscle quivering with pleasure, as Chris picked up the pace even more, with one final burst of speed until he stilled, letting out a deep, rumbling groan of his own before pumping in and out a few final times.

Once he'd stopped his movements completely, he let my leg lower to the bed, collapsing against my chest as he fought to catch his breath. I drifted my hand up to stroke the damp hairs on the back of his neck and soaked in the blissful feeling, a feeling I'd dreamt about since the last time I had the pleasure of enjoying it.

We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris reluctantly pulled back, letting out a soft groan as he slid out of me.

"I'll be right back."

I admired Chris' ability to walk already as all I had the strength to do was nod and shift back to my side of the bed. When Chris reappeared a few minutes later after disposing of the condom in the bathroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. He climbed back under the blankets and shifted over towards me until he could pull me right against his chest with our legs intertwined.

"That was nice," I sighed happily, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms as I nuzzled my nose into his toned pecs.

They shook as he chuckled and a giggle slipped from my lips as well.

"It was," he agreed, kissing the top of my head the same way he had at the start of this little rendezvous.

There was a heaviness in the air, the underlying unspoken words and the conversation that needed to be had hung between us, but I couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment. I'd spent so much time thinking about this, what it would be like to be in his arms again, I couldn't bare to say anything that might make him pull away and snap out of the moment of insanity we'd slipped into.

So, I didn't and neither did he. With one final, gentle kiss goodnight, we stayed tightly in our embrace until we drifted off into a contented sleep.

-

Part Three

[sunshineseung]

Journal Part 2 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 3.2k 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!virgin!jeongin, solo masturbation (m), “mommy/ma’am”, other pet names, more smut within smut [spanking, punishment], breast play, begging, agreement of safe word, unprotected PIV, choking, creampie, male overstimulation, a lil bit more but that’s the main stuff

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

The dim light of the desk lamp was all that lit the room as Jeongin desperately jotted his thoughts down into his journal. It was very late at night, almost sunrise, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. As he was writing, he was completely hard, and his hand was lazily stroking his cock, not in an attempt to reach an orgasm, but rather just to relieve some of the pent up energy he had inside of himself. 

This journal will no longer have to be fantasy. Finally, after years of going after girls and failing miserably, I have a girl that wants me, but not just a girl, a woman. Ms. L/n, the woman this entire book is for, said she needs me, and she did get me like she wanted. Although I wasn’t thinking straight, I remember everything. Her defined hands worshipped my body while she teased me, and even with my underwear on, it was hard not whimpering and moaning as she gripped my cock like I’ve wanted her to for so long. When she went down on me, it felt like a dream. I almost pinched myself out of fear that it was all a dream, but when I looked down to see my release covering her chest, I knew it wasn’t. 

The kiss… Her lips were so pretty and soft. The way she kissed me made my heart burst, like my life was just starting to begin. As cheesy as that sounds, I can’t shake the feeling that my neighbor who I once only lusted for was becoming more than just the woman I think about when I’m needy. I want to be with her all the time, and not just for sex. It’s too early to say I’m in love, of course, but despite her being over ten years older than me, would it be crazy of me to say that I like her?

Jeongin shut the journal, putting it in his bookbag for tomorrow. Looking back out of his bedroom window, the light behind your curtains was off, signaling it was way too late for him to be up. He slept good that night knowing all of his wildest and dirtiest dreams were about to come true, or at least a few of them.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

School was always a drag, but only having one class on Friday’s was a gift from God for Jeongin. All he had to do was get through an hour and a half of class, then he could go to your house. Through text, you told him to be prepared to stay late, possibly overnight, and being the overly excited (and horny) teenage boy that Jeongin is, he couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild. Late night sex, morning sex, shower sex, the things he wanted to do with you were endless. Still, he also wanted to hold your hand, as weird as that sounded.

Putting his feelings aside, he joined his last class of the week and scrolled through his phone as his teacher blabbed on about who-knows-what. He needed something to distract him from the massive distraction that was your entire existence. 

He dashed out of his house right when class ended, showing up to your house earlier than usual only by a few minutes. You thanked him for watching your kids and left, and the casualness of your mannerisms alarmed Jeongin. You’re all he’s been thinking about for the past day, so how were you so calm and collected as if you weren’t wearing the same shirt that had his cum on it, albeit washed and dried right after the fact.

Your kids certainly help Jeongin get his mind off of you when they immediately ask him to play once you leave. After going through every jigsaw puzzle and playing with every Barbie doll, he finally put them to bed, giving him over an hour before you get home from work to write whatever he wants in his journal. He just has to avoid falling asleep this time. 

“Please hit me harder ma’am,” I whine as she has me bent over her lap. I deserve this, and even more so, I want this. I want Ms. L/n to spank my ass as hard as she can while I writhe in her lap with my hard cock rubbing against her leg. “I’ve been a bad boy, haven’t I?” The marks she leaves on my ass burn in the best way. Feeling her nails dig into my skin when she grabs the flesh that she’s made bright red, I cry out of pleasure and pain. What’s so rewarding about being punished, and why does it make my cock twitch with excitement when you treat me like shit?

Subconsciously, Jeongin’s free hand has moved to the tent in his pants, rubbing over the fabric of his jeans for the slightest bit of stimulation. Feeling himself, he puts the journal to the side after writing nearly two pages of disgusting fantasies. Despite having a nice, wholesome time with your two daughters under an hour ago, his mind, as usual, wonders to the thought of you pleasuring him and yourself as much as you want. To Jeongin, he’s your babysitter but also your toy that will happily let you use him however you wish, basically making him your slave. 

Getting home a few minutes early, you walk into your house to see the living room empty, although you were expecting your babysitter to be on the couch. Opening the door to your kids’ room, they’re sound asleep with no sign of him. Your head spins when you hear muffled groans coming from your bedroom. Being only mildly pissed, you storm into your room to see none other Yang Jeongin curled into your comforter, jerking off while his head is buried into your pillow.

“Couldn’t wait for me, huh?” Jeongin feels the edge of the bed dip as you sit on the edge, but he doesn’t stop. Actually, he speeds up, moaning louder now that you’ve closed the door. He’s still partially dressed with his cute little ass hanging out of the back of his pulled down jeans. “Aw, is my pretty boy about to cum? Who are you thinking about, hm?” 

“Y-you.” Jeongin sighs loudly, feeling himself get closer to his climax just by you mentioning it. “I was thinking about you, only you, ma’am.” His whines of this new name make your face flush. You reach out for his thigh, turning him so he’s laying on his back. He flops into position like a ragdoll, but his hand remains pumping his cock. Just by feeling your hands on him, he cums all over his wrinkled tee shirt. Embarrassed he came so fast, he apologizes, but you know very well he isn’t really done yet.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. You’re so young, and I’m sure you can go another round.”

You pull his pants and underwear down his legs, making him gasp from the sudden exposure despite you seeing it all before. “Now sit up and take that shirt off.”

Fully obedient, he stands off the bed and strips until he’s totally naked, face red as he awkwardly holds his hands to his sides. You sit in front of him, running your hands down his arms until you grab his hips and bring him closer until his cock is right at your chest. Although he’s still a little soft, you’re sure he’ll get hard in no time.

“Undress me, Jeongin.” His eyes go wide as he looks your figure up and down, scared of what he’s about to see, and even more scared of what he’s about to do. With a dramatic gulp, he unbuttons the familiar work shirt you were wearing, exposing your bra. He slowly leans down, carefully not to faceplant into your chest, unbuttoning your top entirely before you shake it off of your shoulders, the article of clothing falling behind you on the bed. “I’m guessing you don’t know how to unhook a bra?”

“N-no. I’m sorry.” Jeongin moves back and covers his face with his hands as you reach behind you and easily unhook your bra for him, dropping it onto your thighs and tossing it somewhere on the floor. When he removes his hands from his face, his jaw hangs open. He can’t take his eyes off of your tits, which are much nicer than he could ever imagine. “May I touch them, mommy?”

“Of course, baby.” You take his wrist in your hand and pull his right hand to your left breast, basically forcing him to squeeze it between his fingers, not that he minded. Seeing him so flustered and confused only made you more turned on. He was so innocent, yet the things he wrote in his journal were so vulgar. You could hardly believe that the words in that cursed book came from the boy that didn’t know how to unhook a bra. “Put your mouth to the nipple.” 

“Huh?”

“Don’t act so naïve, Jeongin. I know you’ve thought about this before.” He finally looks up to you out of shock. “So shy? Now? But when you write in that book of yours, you’re not shy, are you?” 

“No ma’am. I’m sorry.” 

Stopping his hand, you pull him down to his knees by his wrist. He’s eye-level with your stomach, but he quickly raises himself up to connect his lips with one of your nipples. You moan shortly as your hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer into your chest. Even after breastfeeding your two kids, your nipples were sensitive as ever. 

“Good boy.” You stare down at him as he’s focused, swirling his tongue around your bud. When he finally looks up to you, your head is thrown back from the mild pleasure Jeongin’s shooting through your nerves. 

He’s starting to feel bold. Jeongin moves from one nipple to the other, massaging your other spit-coated breast with his hand. His fingers rub your nipple, twisting it just enough for it to all feel good. Your moans become more frequent, and being able to hear you groan for him is all he’s ever wanted. 

“Mommy, can I fuck your tits?” You’re the one that’s shocked this time. He pulls back, his hand becoming still on your other breast. “I want to fuck your tits so bad, please?” 

“Whoa there, baby boy. Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” You laugh at his eagerness, pulling him by his hair to stand up. Just seeing how hard he’s gotten by sucking on your tits is enough to make you almost laugh again, but you wouldn’t want to be too mean to the poor boy. 

Moving back on the bed, you lay down and spread your legs. His eyes immediately direct towards your heat, still covered by your work pants. When you gesture towards the obstacle, he lets out a tiny “oh” before pulling your pants down, leaving you in your sopping panties. 

He hooks his index fingers on the hips of your panties, gently pulling them down your legs before dropping them to the floor with your panties. Again, this is greater than anything he could have imagined. 

“C’mere, my little prince.” You take his hands in yours, dragging him to sit on your thighs while you lay under him. You don’t let go of his hands, and he really doesn’t want you to. Your pet names for him always make him blush, but this one in particular made his heart beat even faster than before. “Have you written anything about me since yesterday?”

Jeongin’s mind becomes clouded by all of the things he’s written in the past 24 hours. Every scenario and confession fills his head, and it takes him a few moments to answer before he comes back to reality to answer you. “Y-yes mommy.”

“What did you write?”

Pause. “S-spank me?” Jeongin’s voice is only a light whisper. 

“What was that?” You lean up a little, holding your hand behind your ear to tease him. “You have to speak up, Jeonginnie.”

“I wrote about you spanking me.” His voice returns to him, now fully speaking from his chest. “Punishing me, treating me like a doll.”

“Oh my God, baby. That’s so perverted.” You rub his thighs up and down as you stare at his cock, now twitching with your every word. “You want to be my little doll? Let me do whatever I want to you?” 

“Y-yes!” His overexcited nature makes you giggle as you feel around his pelvis, hands getting dangerously close to his dick. “Can I be mommy’s little toy? I’ll be good, I promise!”

“But don’t you want me to punish you too?” You bite your lip as you look up at him. He’s looking off into the distance, imagining all of the nasty things he wants you to do to him. “Spank you, degrade you, deprive you?” 

“Can’t I have both?” His retort is quick. You didn’t know he could answer you so soon since he was clearly dipping into subspace, although he didn’t even know he did that. “Be your good boy and make you punish me?”

“Wow, so dirty~ We’ll need a safe word, alright?” He nods in understanding, watching you as you try to come up with a word that you could both comfortably say. “How about ‘mango’? Would that be good for you?”

“Mango is good, yeah.” You feel around the base of his cock, watching precum drip from his tip as he groans.

“What do you want to do right now, baby boy?”

“Oh,” he ponders for a second, “p-please fuck me.” 

“Ah, I love it when you beg.” You roughly push him over, his body falling onto the bed right where he was jerking off not too long ago. Climbing over him, you line his member up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds. He whimpers under you, biting the side of his hand to hold back any unwanted sounds he might let out. “Are you ready?”

“Y-yes, mommy! Please let me feel you.” The hand he isn’t biting down on goes to one of his nipples, feeling his chest like he just did to you. You slowly lower onto him, watching his facial expressions rapidly change as he gets used to feeling your cunt around him. He isn’t the biggest, but he still manages to fill you up and make you feel just right. 

Once you’re fully lowered onto him, he grabs your hips and holds you, whining your name over and over again. You can tell he’s trying to get something out, but his brain is too blank to form a sentence. Adjusting yourself on his cock, he groans with a high-pitched whine following shortly after.

“Wait, w-what if I cum inside you?” You look down at him, smiling at his cuteness. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last too long.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, baby.” You lean over and kiss his forehead, holding his face in your palms. “No matter what, I’m not stopping until I cum, got it?”

“Y-yes, ah~ Y/n!” Leaning back from his face, you raise up on him while he is mid-sentence, making him moan out for you. When you start to ride him, his sounds just can’t stop. Fearful that he’ll wake your children, you lean forward again and cover his mouth with your hand, still allowing him to breath through his nose. Ignoring your hand, he continues to cry and wail, feeling like he was on cloud nine just from you riding him. 

“You have such a nice cock, Jeonginnie. It’s even better inside me, though.” Your mind starts to fog, ignoring the younger boy’s needs to chase your own high. While one of your hands covers his mouth, your other hand wraps around his neck, choking him just enough to make him sob from the thrill. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, and without being able to warn you, he reached his climax and shot his load inside you, but you didn't stop.

Cum leaks out of your hole as your movements become quicker and rougher. The hand that covered his mouth has now joined your other hand around his neck, choking him as he sobs from the overstimulation, yet the predetermined safe word isn’t even crossing his mind. He loves everything you’re doing to him more than he could ever describe with words.

Your thumb runs across his bottom hip and he opens his mouth, light sobs leaving his throat. Ducking down towards his face, you kiss him with full tongue, something he’s never experienced before. Still, he quickly learned the movements and kissed you back, loving the feeling of your mouth against his. 

Pulling away, you stare down into his eyes. You looked beyond beautiful to him, and the entire visual of your half-lidded eyes, gaping mouth, bouncing tits, and dripping cunt making his cock disappear over and over again, he couldn’t help but get hard again.

“Cum for me, please mommy?” He pouts, giving you the glimmering eyes that always make you shudder. His hand hesitantly makes his way down to your clit, circling it with one finger while you ride his cock. You’re not entirely sure how he knows where the clitoris is, but it feels so good that you don’t even care. 

Mewling with your entire throat, your cunt tightens around Jeongin’s cock as you ride out your high, shallowing your movements. The sight of you cumming from him makes him moan right with you, nearly cumming inside you again. AS you come down from your orgasm, you slowly pull yourself off of him, his cock dropping against his abdomen, covering in the combined juices of you two. Catching your breath, you lay next to Jeongin, secretly hoping he’ll turn to his side so you can spoon him for a minute. 

“I can stay, right?” Jeongin turns to you while you lay on your side, looking to you for any sign of discontent. You nod as you stand up to go to the bathroom and clean up. “Oh, where are you going?”

“I can’t sleep like this.” You laugh as you gesture to your pussy, clearly in no shape to sit overnight. “I’ll be right back out.”

You disappear into the bathroom, ready to take care of the mess between your legs. Jeongin grabs a tissue and wipes himself clean of any release left on himself before laying back down and going on his phone, seeing a plethora of text message notifications from his friends’ group chat. He doesn’t have the mental capacity to check them right now. He just wants to bliss out, joyfully going through the entire night over again in his mind, cementing every action and event in his memory. 

Walking back from the bathroom, you toss yourself onto the bed and lay next to Jeongin, asking him politely to turn over so you can be the big spoon. With your chest pressed against his back, he puts his phone down and falls asleep.

Suddenly, your phone rings, and you quickly reach over to answer the call without seeing who it was. Unfortunately, it was your ex husband's voice coming from the other end, and you wish you had turned your ringer off. Jeongin was asleep, just like your kids, but as you rubbed your eyes from tiredness, you couldn’t help but regret answering the call.

“Y/n, are you fucking one of my students?”

Shit.

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Five - A.R

Word count: 4602 Summary: Lenora tries to tell y/n a shameful secret and y/n and Arvin go out.

-

I sat by Lenora, stroking her hair as she awakened slowly. I had only come in to get changed into some of her clothes until my uniform was clean. But I felt too awkward to go out and face Arvin again with his Grandmother there so I just stayed in Lenora's room.

She opened her eyes and I smiled at her, "Hey, sleepin' beauty." I giggled.

She grinned and wiped her eyes, sitting up in bed. She looked at my clothes with confusion.

"Your Grandma is cleanin' my uniform so..."

"Oh alright. It's no problem. Where's Arvin?" She asked groggily.

"He's outside I think. He's okay." I smiled, rubbing her knee.

"Good. Are you okay? You had it worse than me."

"I'm okay. Arvin helped clean my wounds up." I spoke, not looking into her eyes.

She paused and stared at me for a few moments. I eventually looked up at her.

"What?" I questioned.

She squinted, "Do you like Arvin?"

I spluttered a laugh, thinking of what to say as quickly as I could.

"Why in God's name would I like Arvin? I don't. He don't like me much and everyone knows that." I spoke too quickly and my voice went a little higher but hopefully she didn't notice.

"Hmm...if you did like him I wouldn't mind." She shrugged.

My ears perked up, "W-uh- wh- really?" I stuttered.

A slow smile grew on her lips, "Yeah, you'd be family. More than you already are...but of course, you don't like him."

"Right, yeah...of course."

We both stayed in silence then looked at each other and burst into laughter.

After a few minutes of hysterics we calmed down and slumped together, legs and arms over each other like a jigsaw puzzle. We didn't talk. We didn't need to. It was just nice being with each other, hearing the distant chatter of Mrs Russell and Arvin and the radio and the mosquitos outside.

"Hey, y/n?" Lenora spoke in a whisper.

"Yeah?" I whispered back.

"I uh...I need to tell you somethin'." She whispered.

I furrowed my brows but she couldn't see me.

"What is it?"

"I...I...you know that new preacher? Reverend Teagardin?" Her voice broke slightly, leading me to believe she was crying.

I lay down further and onto my side to look at her. She had shed a few tears, her eyes were red and puffy and her chin quivered. I hate to think what she'd tell me.

"Well...he uh...he drove me to the woods and-"

"y/n?" Emma came into the room.

"Yes?" I asked, sitting up.

"Your parents are askin' for you back home. Arvin'll take you." She smiled.

"Okay, thank you. I'll be right there."

Emma nodded then left and I looked down at Lenora. She sat up and wiped her tears.

"We'll talk on Monday, alright? You take care of yourself Lenora. I'll see you at school on Monday." I kissed her cheek then got up from her bed.

"Bye, y/n." She said weakly.

"Bye."

I left her room and walked into the living room where Arvin was getting his jacket and hat on. He winced as he put his arms in but he got it on eventually.

"Here you go, darlin'. Good as new." Emma handed me my uniform folded and washed.

"Thank you so much, Emma. You're a life saver." I embraced her.

"No problem, honey. Now go home and rest." She smiled, parting our hug.

"Thank you again." I waved as Arvin opened the door to me and I walked out.

It was dark and a little cold out but it was nice. Peaceful.

"G'night, y/n." Earskell said, nodding his head.

"Night, Earskell." I smiled and hopped down the patio steps.

Arvin followed loosely behind and opened the car while he lit a cigarette. We both got in in silence and he reversed out. I watched as he painfully stretched an arm behind my seat to look back.

"You shouldn't be stretchin' like that, Arvin." I said softly as he put his hand back on the wheel.

"I'm fine, don't worry." He said, taking the cigarette out his mouth and driving off.

I turned the radio up. Honeycomb by Jimmie Rodgers began to play. I grinned and sat back on my seat, bouncing my leg to the music.

"You like this song?" Arvin asked me.

I smiled, "Yeah. Do you?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

I bit my lip to try to contain a huge smile.

"And they call it a honeycomb," I sang.

Arvin looked from the road to me, his hand moving up to inhale and exhale the tobacco from his smiling lips. I wasn't used to him smiling this much. I liked it.

"Oh honeycomb, won't you be my baby. Well, honeycomb, be my own." I sang, nodding my head along too.

I looked at him while singing and giggled throughout my words. He watched in admiration. His eyes looked all over my body from my legs to my lips to my eyes. He wore a slight smirk and his eyes looked fairly innocent for once. Like he was just enjoying himself.

He drove me up the road but parked just before the gates because I had to get changed without my parents seeing.

"Okay, here goes. Keep your eyes ahead, Russell." I warned as I climbed into the backseat.

He did as he was told with a boyish grin, throwing his cigarette out and lighting a new one to keep himself occupied.

"Will your parents not notice that your clothes are clean?" He asked, blowing out a mouthful of smoke.

"They'll only see me in it for a moment. I'll go straight upstairs to change." My voice was muffled as I removed Lenora's dress from my body.

"So you changing is pointless then."

"No, it's-" I groaned trying to get the cheerleading top on. "It's not pointless, it's smart." I sighed, finally getting it on.

"Hmm." He hummed, looking out the window to the house.

I put my shorts and skirt on and climbed back into the passenger seat with a sigh of relief, folding Lenora's dress in my lap.

"Whatcha' thinkin' about?" I asked Arvin as he stared at the house.

He took a last puff of the cigarette then threw it out the window.

"Just thinkin' how you could ever like me when you live like this." He stated.

I furrowed my brows and stayed stunned with confusion for a few moments. I reached a hand over onto his neck, snaking my fingers into his hair. He hummed and leaned into my touch.

"It don't matter to me, Arv. You do." I said softly with a smile.

He looked up at me and his innocent look began to mix with a lustful one. I knew what that looked like now. He cupped my face with one hand, bringing me towards him.

I hummed against his lips as they touched. It was soft at first, meaningful even. Our lips connected perfectly. He tasted like tobacco but I didn't mind. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and I moaned softly, tugging his hair at his scalp.

He removed his hand from my face and reached behind him. He pulled the seat back slightly but I kept my lips on his, our tongues working together at a perfect pace. He held my waist and practically lifted me onto his lap.

I gasped as I straddled him, our lips hovering over each others.

"Is this okay?" He asked, his breath touching my lips.

"Y-yeah." I stuttered.

He smiled and brushed my hair back before cupping my face and bringing our lips together once again. I moaned, our tongues and lips getting faster. His hands left my face and he ran them down my spine and then held my waist tightly. I massaged his scalp and pulled his face as close to mine as possible. Our laboured breaths lay upon each others skin as we basically devoured one another.

His hands slid to my ass and squeezed. I let out a moan of surprise. He avoided my cut again but he could still grab a handful each. After I eased into it, he kneaded and massaged my skin. I moaned again and his lips began to trail from my lips again, lowering down to my neck.

He kissed over the already-existing hickey and I gasped with the sensitivity of it. He found a new spot on my neck which I reacted to accordingly. I moaned and tugged his hair tighter, bringing his face almost completely flush to my neck. I leaned back, letting him mark me as much as he wanted.

His fingers came up to my cropped top and he teased under the hem, stroking circles on my skin. His lips came back to mine, his tongue touching mine before his lips.

"I think about you all the time." He revealed breathlessly.

Thank God I wasn't the only one.

"You do?" I asked in between sloppy kisses.

He hummed, "I think about you- about us-"

"Us?" I gasped as he bit my bottom lip.

He moved onto my neck again, his hands roaming my waist, hips and now the tops of my thighs.

"I think about what it'd be like if it was just the two of us nearly every night, y/n." He spoke breathlessly against my skin.

I moaned, my head tilting back to give him more access.

"Do you think about us, too?" He asked.

"Uh-huh. But I never thought we'd be able to do it." I answered as well as I could.

He softened his kisses gradually and kissed my lips again before sitting back against his seat.

I rubbed his shoulders and hummed, enjoying the sight in front of me.

He lightly stroked my thighs and sighed in satisfaction.

"Should we...should we tell Lenora?" I asked.

He swallowed, "Not yet. We just started tonight. I want to keep it between us for a while."

I smiled as he sat up again, wrapping his arms completely around me, "Yeah? Just our little secret?"

He smiled, "Just our little secret."

I grinned and pulled him into me, our lips crashing together once again. He pushed me back, leaning into the kiss with want and need. I moaned against his lips, matching his energy.

But suddenly-

BEEEEEP

We both jumped and screamed at the sudden loud noise, falling back onto the chair. I gasped and clasped a hand over my mouth. My back had pressed the horn on the car.

"Shit." I cursed.

We shot our heads over to my house where we could just see my mother outside, curious to the noise.

"Shit!" I cursed again, clambering off of Arvin.

"Hey, this time we really were submarine racin'." He chuckled.

I scowled, "Not funny. I have to go."

I opened the car door and hopped out.

"Hey, do I not get a kiss goodbye?" He asked with a smug smile.

"You're unbelievable, Arvin Russell." I shook my head.

I climbed half-way back into the truck and craned my neck, laying a peck on his lips. I went to pull away but he cupped my head and pulled me in for longer, his tongue sliding effortlessly into my mouth. I moaned and held his hand, losing myself for a moment before ripping myself from his touch.

"Goodnight, Arvin. Drive safe." I said before shutting the door.

"G'night." He smirked, licking his lips.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked onto our house grounds. He reversed and pulled out, waving at me before heading back. I waved with a smile and turned around, skipping up the drive.

I entered the house and quietly closed the door behind me. I tip toed to the bottom of the staircase and took a step up.

"y/n?!" Ma shouted from the living room.

I scrunched my nose and closed my eyes. Damn it. I sat my bag down and walked sheepishly through to the living room. Ma was sitting in her nightgown and robe while Daddy was lying down, a cold cloth placed over his forehead and only pyjama bottoms on. He looked unwell. I immediately went to kneel by his side, looking up at Ma.

"Wh-what happened?" I asked, panic beginning to course through my body.

"He's sick again, sweetheart." Ma gulped.

"What? How?" I asked in shock.

"He must've caught somethin' at church." Ma stroked over his damp hair.

"And now he's sick again?"

She nodded.

I sighed, not knowing what to say. He was pale, his skin was cold to the touch but he was sweating. He nearly looked as bad as he did before.

"How was school?" Ma asked softly.

I didn't look up at her, "Yeah, it was good. Nothing new."

"And how's Lenora and the family?"

I nodded, still not looking at her.

"Y-yeah. Everyone...everyone's great." I smiled.

"Hm. Good."

A painfully long pause occurred. I stood up to go and change but Ma grabbed my wrist softly.

"What about that Arvin boy? What's he like? You've been around him a lot recently."

She seemed almost concerned. I'm not surprised. She knew what he was like.

"He's...okay. He's nice." I smiled.

"I mean he's ferryin' you everywhere, ain't he? You say thank you don't you?"

"Yeah, Ma. I say thank you."

"Good. Now go get changed, supper'll be on soon."

"Okay."

I walked calmly out of the living room and then I hopped upstairs, closing my door behind me. I squealed and jumped onto my bed, the silk sheets inviting me in. I stared at my white ceiling and grinned.

Arvin likes me. Arvin kissed me. Arvin took care of me. Arvin kissed me again.

I sat up and looked into my floor length mirror that hung gracefully on the wall. The hickey's were still there, I was surprised Ma didn't say anything. I ran my fingers over the bruise-like marks.

I fell asleep that night extremely happy.

***

Arvin's POV

"I've gotta go pick up y/n. I'll be back soon, alright?" I said to Lenora, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Thanks, Arv."

I left her in her room and got into the car to drive to school.

Lenora had been sick since the last bullying episode two weeks ago. She must have caught a bug but she was really unwell. However, that meant she was free from those jocks and all I had to worry about now was y/n.

But picking her up from school every day and driving to a secret spot to make out was amazing. We almost liked the sneaking around and the secretiveness of it all. We didn't want Lenora to find out and she didn't know how to tell her parents, especially with her Daddy being sick.

I waited outside of the school before the bell, a new cigarette lit and the radio playing. Honeycomb came on the radio and I smiled at the fond memories that was the first night we kissed.

Suddenly the school bell rang and I waited for her, keeping a close eye out for her uniform and her ribbon. I finally saw her sprint out of the school, a few jocks following loosely behind. I reached over and opened the car door for her. She jumped into the truck and slammed the door shut.

I waited. I waited for those jocks to get close enough just to be able to touch the truck and then I drove away as fast as I could.

"Assholes." I cursed.

We waited until we were on the flat roads through the town until we said our hello's.

"Hey," She beamed, reaching up and kissing my cheek.

"How was school?" I asked.

She shrugged, "Okay. I landed on my hip at cheer."

I furrowed my brows, "I told you you shouldn't be goin' back there yet."

"Well, too bad. It's fine it just stung a lil'."

"Hmm. You gotta be more careful."

"Yeah, yeah."

She hung a hand out of the window, letting the wind fly through her fingers.

"How's your Dad?" I asked.

She sighed, "Not gettin' any better."

She kept her eyes on the road purposefully. Obviously not wanting to look at me in case she got upset. I reached a hand over and rested it on her lower thigh.

"How's Lenora?" She asked, sitting her hand on top of mine.

"Still throwin' up. She's not good, I don't know what happened." I shook my head.

We decided to go straight to the house instead of a detour. I pulled up outside our house and Uncle Earskell was sitting outside as usual, listening to the radio.

y/n and I got out and walked up the steps.

"Afternoon, Earskell." y/n spoke sweetly.

"Afternoon, y/n." He smiled.

Him and I nodded our hats at each other and we went inside.

We could hear Lenora throwing up from the front door.

"Grandma?" I called through.

"Through here!" She shouted from Lenora's room.

y/n and I walked through and Lenora was spitting into a bowl at the side of her bed that Grandma held for her, along with her hair.

"We've got it." y/n smiled at her.

"Thanks, honey." Grandma said.

She left the room and y/n and I sat down as Lenora lay back.

"Hey, god I'm so sorry you're feelin' like this." y/n held Lenora's hand.

She smiled weakly, "It's alright...and Arvin?"

I looked up at her.

"Could you leave y/n and I just for a bit?"

I smiled, "Yeah sure."

I went to kiss y/n goodbye but I stopped myself half way and got up and left.

Reader's POV

"What's up?" I asked, shuffling to sit in front of her with my legs in a basket.

"I need to tell you somethin'. But you have to promise not to tell anyone." She spoke quietly like she was nervous.

I furrowed my brows as she sat up fully.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, matching her quiet tone.

She looked up at me with teary eyes then back down to her fiddling hands.

"I uh...I did somethin'...somethin' shameful." She gulped.

I cocked my head slightly in confusion and worry.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She looked up at me as tears began to fall from her eyes.

"You know Reverend Teagardin?"

I nodded my head, "Yeah."

"Well...he took me out into the woods and..."

My heartbeat fastened at her slow speech. I didn't want to imagine if what I was thinking in my head was true. It couldn't be.

"And he prayed with me...."

I sighed with relief, placing a hand over my chest.

"But then,"

Oh no.

Her chin quivered and she held a hand over her mouth to cover her cries.

"But then-"

"y/n?" Arvin came into the room.

We both shot our heads to the door and it looked like he immediately regretted interrupting.

"I'll be in the car." He coughed before exiting.

I turned back to Lenora.

"Lenora, why don't we talk on Sunday after I've finished my school work?" I asked, holding her hand in reassurance that I was there for her.

She suddenly broke into tears and I wrapped my arms around her, letting her cry into my cheer uniform.

"I'm so ashamed." She whimpered.

"You have nothin' to be ashamed of, Lenora." I said soothingly, rubbing her back.

"And I haven't been to church in two weeks. And I've not visited my mother's grave in so long." She cried.

"Oh Lenora," I pouted, squeezing her a little before parting.

"I promise you we'll go see your mother's grave once you feel better, okay? Does that sound good?" I asked, wiping her tears away.

She nodded and wiped her nose.

"Okay. I'll talk to you on Sunday?" I double-checked, standing up from her bed.

"Sunday, yes." She smiled weakly.

"I hope you feel better." I sighed.

"Thanks, y/n. You're the best friend I've ever had." She sniffled.

A grin grew on my face, "And you're mine. I love you."

"Love you too."

And I left, walking through the house in confusion and sympathy.

I said goodbye to Mrs Russell and then Uncle Earskell before hopping down the stairs, wiping the sadness that was that conversation away. I didn't want to be sad today. Not with Arvin.

I got into the car and Arvin drove off with a wave to his uncle. We sat in silence, only  the sound of the radio singing throughout the car. Arvin drove us down the highway to our special spot in the woods. It was by a lake and we always had food and drinks and a picnic blanket ready in the back in case we wanted to go for a drive.

We got out and I sat the mat down on the grass by the lake and planted myself on it. Arvin sat down next to me and sighed.

"What was that all about at the house?" He asked inquisitively.

"Oh uh...she was just upset about missing church and the grave." I coughed, looking at the river.

Technically I wasn't lying. She was upset about that. But there was something deeper and...darker that she was finding hard to say. And the timing couldn't have been worse.

"Well she'll get to do that when she's not sick."

"I know. I know. That's what I told her." I nodded.

He took his jacket off and laid it down, lying back on top of it.

"Don't know why she loves that preacher so much. He's as bad as they got on the damn radio." He huffed, holding his arm out, gesturing for me to lie with him.

I sighed and shuffled over, lying back into the crook of his armpit. My head rested on his shoulder and I wrapped an arm over his chest.

"I don't think he's that bad, Arvin. He's a preacher for god's sake."

"Yeah well...there's a lotta no good sons of bitches out there." He said lowly.

I smiled a little, "I think you've been saying that since the day I met you."

"Well it's true."

He lifted his hips to get a cigarette and a lighter out of his pockets and he lit one, inhaling, then exhaling.

A beat of silence. Peaceful silence. The birds chirped and the lake lapped a few times but it was quiet.

Arvin nudged me a little and I looked up at him.

"Kiss." He demanded softly.

I giggled and lifted my head to lay a kiss on his lips. What I thought was going to be a brief kiss turned into more. He slid his tongue into my mouth and I moaned.

His arms lifted me from the ground to on top of him. I readjusted my weight on him and we continued kissing. He blindly put out his cigarette then placed his hands on my waist. Our tongues meshed together like a puzzle and his hands roamed all over my body.

I pulled away, looking down at him. His slightly swollen lips and his hooded eyes.

He smirked and caught another kiss before lying back down, a hand holding his head up slightly.

"You're beautiful." He complimented.

"You're handsome."

"What a pair we make." He smiled.

"What a pair indeed."

***

Over the next few days, Arvin and I would spend any spare time we had with each other. Since Lenora wasn't at school and I was advised not to see her often in case I caught her bug, we were able to spend hours with each other a day.

He would pick me up from school and drive me back home where we'd sit and chat to Uncle Earskell outside. Or he'd drive us to the lake and we'd eat and kiss. Or we'd even just find a quiet spot if it was raining and we'd just listen to the radio in the backseat, stealing one or a few kisses.

Every night I'd come into the house and I'd bound up the stairs before saying anything to put on different clothes and try to hide the evident marks of Arvin's actions on my skin. Ma would ask about him constantly. And I could tell they were in the know that something between us was going on. And the nights were getting gradually later the more Arvin and I would want to stay with each other and the more we'd get caught up in our...activities.

Last night I came in an hour late. I had never been so late in my life.

"Miss y/l/n, where the hell do you think you're goin'?"

"I'm goin' to bed!"

"You cannot come in an hour late and go to bed! Talk to me! Why are you so late?"

"I just lost track of time."

"With that Arvin boy?"

"Yes. With Arvin."

"He's no good, y/n."

"Why would you say that? I thought you liked him?"

"Not now 'cause he's takin' you out constantly and distractin' you and god knows what you two do in that car."

"Ma!"

"I don't want you seein' him like that again. I'm fond of Lenora, I really am. But not him. I don't want you spendin' all this time with him after school, d'ya hear me?"

"He is my friend, ma. I'm allowed friends."

"I don't think he's just a friend. Now go upstairs, get changed and tomorrow after school, tell him to bring you straight home."

"Fine."

I stormed up the stairs in a hissy fit and cried in frustration at my mother setting boundaries like I was a child.

The next afternoon I sprinted out at the bell and Arvin opened the door for me as usual. I jumped in and gave him a quick peck before he sped off.

"Oh Arvin?" I chirped.

"Yeah?"

"You've to just drop me home today." I sighed.

"What? Why?" He asked.

I groaned, "My parents don't like that we're out so late and honestly...they're not your biggest fans."

He chuckled, "Not many people are."

"I'm so sorry. I wish I could stay longer."

"Not your fault, darlin'."

Arvin drove me to my house and stopped before the gate briefly.

We turned and immediately kissed, tongues pushing into each other's mouth with a new passion. I moaned and he hummed as our tongues moved perfectly.

But I had to go.

I pulled away and we both groaned in frustration.

"Just pick me up at noon on Sunday, okay? Lenora and I were going to hang out." I smiled.

"Okay. I'll drop Grandma back off after church then I'll come and get you, alright?" He checked.

"Sounds great. Thanks, Arv." I giggled and we pecked once more before I hopped out the car and skipped up the road, waving a goodbye.

***

I waited patiently by one of the front window's for Arvin. He was never usually this late. I checked the Grandfather's clock behind me.

12:23.

I just waited. Something felt wrong, though. Like something bad had happened. Arvin was a safe driver, though. He'd be fine. Right?

The ringing of the house phone broke me out of my worrying trance. I leapt up to get it, hoping it was Arvin. Ma and Daddy watched from the couch as I picked it up.

"Hello, Fernpark residence." I answered with a smile.

"y/n?"

It was Arvin. His voice was shaky and I could hear a lot of background noise. Something was wrong.

"Arvin? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I asked, turning to face my parents in panic.

Ma stood up in worry.

"It's- it's not me, y/n...it's Lenora..."

"Wh-what? What are you saying, Arvin?" I pressed.

My heartbeat quickened and I could feel it pulsing in my throat. Something was terribly wrong.

"She's dead."

-

{Tags: @notanordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​ }

!! If you wish to be added to the taglist for this series then send me a message or a non-anonymous ask or if you would like to be added to my PERMANENT taglist then do the same but let me know which one!!

[spiderling-space]

Cater is so underrated! Could you do a yandere Cater fic where a fem!MC is already dating him and they’re having an intimate moment (kissing) when she decides to break up with him and he keeps trying to get her to stay (he’s desperate). He wasn’t a yandere until she decided to leave. I hope this is an okay request! Slight nsfw if you’re willing!

I don't know why but writing Cater as yandere was way harder than Kalim.

Achievement unlocked: You made your boyfriend go yandere

Italics indicate thoughts

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

Cater Diamond

Warning: Yandere behaviour, toxic relationship

You can do this, (Y/N)! (Y/N) was giving herself confidence-boosting phrases as she firmly made her way to Cater, her boyfriend, well, soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. He was taking selfies when she arrived at his side. He greeted her with a kiss on the lips after he was done with selfies. She couldn't find it in her heart to return the kiss. To get out of the situation and get his attention, she gingerly patted his shoulder. Lady luck must have been on her side as he withdrew the next second.

"No kissy today?" Cater asked with a cheerful attitude. He didn't even wait for her response before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, pressing their cheeks together, and making a peace sign with his hand. "Say cheese!" She force smiled at the camera instinctively as she grew accustomed to Cater's sudden selfie moments. He took a few selfies and retreated his arm to select the best one in his standards.

"Cater, we need to talk."

"Hmm hmm," Her request, once again, fell into deaf ears as he didn't even acknowledge it. "Just a moment babe, I'm posting our picture #CutestCouple #Sweethearts #CantGetEnoughOfEachOther #Ca(Y/N) #(Y/N)ter"

Oh shit!

(Y/N) launched at his phone before he could post it, being grateful that he was "You need to listen to me before you post it." Only interrupting him posting on Magicam would get his attention since it was all he cared about. “I don’t think this,” she motioned herself and Cater, “... is working out.”

“Huh? What are you saying?” He looked confused, looking at her intently while he was reaching to get his phone back.

“I asked you to meet because I want to break up. It would be better to do it in person." She felt relief wash over her after she told him what she was holding back for the last 2 weeks. "I just ca-"

"That is not cute, totally not Magigrammable." (Y/N) assumed he didn't process what she had told yet considering he was standing in front of her with a blank expression.

"You are amazing and I had such a great time with you. I thought I would be fine with you posting every moment we have on Magicam but I am not." It is better to be straightforward than to beat around the bush. He is going to understand me, I'm sure of it.

"I want people to see how cute we look, (Y/N). Why wouldn't you like it?" He was trying to bargain with her, completely ignoring what she had just said.

"You are too focused on being cute and showing it off to everyone and expecting validation for it but you don't live the moment from my point of view. It is not something I can handle. It just encumbers me." (Y/N) put her hands on his biceps gently, making eye contact so he would see her genuineness. She didn't want to hurt his feelings but the reality was better than living a lie. "I can't expect you to change or force to be different than you already are. It is best if we part ways as a friend. I'm sure there is someone out there who would love every side of you." She let her arms fall to her sides, slightly patting on her thighs as she awaited his response. He was far too silent than usual. She just hoped he accepted her reasoning as a mature person would and now was pondering a way to react.

"That's not going to work." Thank goodness, he understood! "My followers adore our pictures together. They get the most likes! We can't break up!" Damn it, I spoke too soon. (Y/N) was about to reason with him but he suddenly grabbed her arm. "You can't break up with me!" She had never seen his eyes blazing with anger, and it was a sight she ought to not see.

(Y/N) was wriggling to be free of his grip but he was squeezing her arm more and more as she continued her struggle. "You are hurting me!" She grabbed his hand on her, digging her nails on his skin so that he would let her go out of pain.

"I'm hurting you?" Cater ignored her plea as if it meant nothing to him. "You are the one who is hurting me! Are you trying to make me lose followers? Do you want people to dislike me? Is that your goal?"

She stopped her strife momentarily, too shocked to hear what he had said. "Wh-what... What does that have anything to do with how I feel about our relationship?!" He was being too self-centered at the moment, only caring about how he felt. "Listen, I want to remain as friends. We can take occasional pictures together that you can post on Magicam but I gotta go my own way, Cater." She wanted to bite his hand and kick him in the sack but she wagered it would be worse if she pushed forward so she decided to take a passive approach.

"Is that your way of pitying me? You are just like my sisters. So cruel, thinking yourself better than me, taking the best thing from me, and expecting me to be content with the scraps." He let her go abruptly, making her lose her balance and fall on her butt. "But you aren't a cruel person, are you?" He knelt on her level, lifting her head from her chin with his hand. "We aren't going to break up. That is just a silly joke you made."

Was he always delusional? (Y/N) tried to sing his tune but it didn't work. She hastily swatted his hand away. "I thought he would stay as friends but clearly you are too deranged for it!"

When she tried to get up, Cater pushed her back. "I believe you would prefer to continue dating me." He was too calm as he uttered those words while twirling the end of his hair strand with a snide smile on his face.

What the fuck is he on? He better gives me the number of his dealer! "Were you not listening to me?!" The more this drew out the more she got irritated. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He just smiled at her remark. "I suppose plenty of things but now isn't the time for me. It is the time for you." He unlocked his phone and scrolled through something. He chuckled when she assumed he found what he was looking for. "You would prefer to date me than seeing what I have to be shared on Magicam and for everyone to talk about it." He had a chesire smile as he closed his eyes and waited for her response.

The gears turned on her mind as she understood what he was talking about. She couldn't help but laugh, it was such a weak threat for her to continue dating him. "If you think I'll still be with you because you would share my nudes and you're in for a ride. The moment you share them or are involved in their distribution, my lawyer will call you." She was certain that he would cut the crap now.

Instead of him falling out of his act, he let out a burst of loud laughter. He then turned to face her once more, bopping her nose. "Don't be ridiculous. Why would I put myself at that type of risk? It would ruin my life more than yours." He chuckled, giving her the most devilish look. "I know what you did last summer."

Huh?

(Y/N)'s heart started to pound in her chest. She was panicking, her breathing was getting hitched but she kept quiet this long and she wasn't going to quit the act now. "Nothing besides having fun." Her voice cracked as she spoke, her nerves getting to her.

"I bet you did. Especially with your high school friends. Did all of you agree to never speak of what happened last summer?" He was calm as if he was talking about weather instead of her secret.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She was convinced that he would drop the topic if she persisted to deny it.

"Oh?" He feigned surprise before turning his phone towards her so that she could see what was on the screen. Her breathing stopped and her eyes widened the second her eyes laid upon what was on Cater's phone. How did he learn about that? How did he get that video?

(Y/N) gulped, trying to collect any courage left. "H-h-h-how?" Her mind was racing, trying to find an escape from the situation but failing amazingly.

Cater just shrugged his shoulders, acting as if this was a regular thing for him. "I know a lot of things about everyone. Perks of knowing many people and having a broad network, I say. I have everything to know everything about my girlfriend, don't you think?" He didn't expect her to answer. Even if he did, what could she say? She just remained silent and she tried to process everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. He seated beside her on the grass. He took her right arm and put it around his shoulders. Her arms were limp, not having enough energy to fight back. He inched even closer and wrapped his left arm around her waist. They must have looked like a loving couple from outside while in actuality, one of them was a psycho who just threatened his girlfriend into dating him and the other one was a murderer who kept quiet even though it was just an accident.

Cater looked at her, stroking her face as a lover would. "Now be a good girl and wipe that terrified expression off your face. That's not Magigrammable unless it is Halloween time." He closed the video and opened the camera on his phone, holding it up for another selfie. "Smile for the camera." (Y/N) couldn't even bring herself to fake-smile. She was just looking at his phone with a blank expression. Cater must have seen it too since he pouted after looking at the pictures he took but he didn't fret about it, instead, he moved forward. "Now kiss me. Lovers kissing always gets more attention." (Y/N) turned towards him and leaned to kiss him as he took pictures. After he ended the kiss, he simply turned his attention to his phone. "This is going to get so many likes, (Y/N). See what happens when you stay with me?"

She only nodded in response, not wanting to talk. As Cater was adding tags to their picture, (Y/N) was left alone with her thoughts.

I deserve this. I shouldn't have agreed to stay silent last summer. Now not only I have to live with its guilt but also have to obey everything Cater says if I want to live free. But will I be truly free with Cater?

-------

If someone is threatening you to share your intimate photos, don't bend to their will. You can take legal action which can result in you receiving indemnity from intangible damage caused by them and they can get jail time for the distribution of sensitive personal data (I am unsure of the actual term in English). Just know your rights and don't stay silent.

I love "I know what you did last summer". It is one of my favorite horror movies of all time. I highly suggest it.

[imaginesupply]

You have my permission - Tom Hiddleston smut (sub!Tom)

Summary : Tom throws a tantrum and his mistress gives him more than he bargained for. 

Warnings: Sub!Tom, switch!Tom, oral (f receiving), PIV, body fluids and aftercare. 

Words: 4.4k 

Smut after the cut. 

She strolled inside the bedroom behind Tom, her fingers dexterously removing the heavy earrings that were weighing down her earlobes painfully. Setting them down on the dresser with a relieved sigh, she turned to Tom whose back to her as he crouched down and took off his shoes. What a nice ass, she mused with a grin.

"A bath or a movie, which do you fancy?" She asked, offering him the choice. Tom had seemed off at dinner, not his usual cheerful self and she was concerned. Yet, truth be told, she was tired and though a bath was relaxing perspective, she doubted she'd have the energy to leave the tub once the water lost its warmth, but those were two activities she knew Tom enjoyed particularly and she wanted to treat her good boy to a pleasant evening.

"I don't care."

She stopped in her tracks even as she opened the drawer for a fresh nightdress, a frown taking over her face. "What was that?"

"I don't care." Tom repeated more forcefully.

She had heard him right the first time, then. Hiding her surprise well, she cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'll remind you, darling, that's not how you speak to me."

Tom was barefoot now but standing up to his full height by the bed, an expression on his face that she wasn't acquainted with. "Or what?" He sneered with sarcasm, so far from the sweet boy she knew.

With an eye roll, she dropped the night dress on the bed. Tom had already broken so many rules within the past minute, but she was feeling clement. After all, unlike him, she had enjoyed herself immensely at dinner.

"What is it, Thomas? Why are you being so fussy tonight?" She sighed with resignation. As much as his attitude was grating on her nerves, she needed to know that he was alright. "Come on, sit down," she ordered gently, patting the mattress next to her.

"No!"

"No?" She was giving him one last chance.

To her surprise, Tom groaned, his hands tightening into fists for a moment before loosening again. "No, I will not sit down just because you told me to, not after..."

Her patience with him was thinning down to a hair width. This was not how she had envisioned their evening, but she would spend the night punishing him if she had to.

"Either you tell me exactly what's going on, Thomas, or you'll spend the next couple of days with a painful bottom," she promised, crossing her arms over her chest and just barely resisting tapping her foot on the floor.

His face changed at once. Tom knew those weren't idle threats. He winced, remembering the last time she had uttered those words. Still, he couldn't shake off the fury that gnawed at him from the inside.

"I did not like our waiter tonight, nor the way you behaved with him." Tom finally confessed though his voice remained petulant.

She was unable to hold back a scoff. Was her good boy acting out because he was jealous? "Really? I thought he was very efficient, and I treated him the same respect I do all other people."

Tom's eyes widened at her statement and suddenly all she could see was their light, vibrant blue.  “He spent the entire evening with his eyes glued onto your cleavage! He touched your hand when he filled your glass! And you didn't even say anything, you just let him do it!" He spat accusatorily.

A tantrum, then, she concluded, leaning back against the wall with an amused smirk as she sized him up. Thomas has misbehaved in the past - some small misdemeanours here or there that had warranted a proportionate disciplinary response from her - but this was on an entirely different level. For some reason, punishment didn't seem like the appropriate response this time around.

"Very well, Tom. You've made your case and I’ve listened." She saw it in his eyes, relief washing over the sizzling emotion that she now recognised as jealousy. "What is your solution?"

Tom didn't manage to hide his reaction at her words. He felt put on the spot, her taunting stare intimidating him more than any handcuffs or collar ever could, and without the comfort that came with them. The usually eloquent man stuttered. "I don't know, mistress," he admitted, all sudden burst of courage gone but the look on her face let him know she wasn’t satisfied with the answer. "I just need to know you're as much mine as I'm yours, mistress."

He was back to being her good boy, it appeared, puppy eyes begging to be forgiven for his previous outburst. She licked her lower lip, anticipating the fun that was to come, before nodding as she tilted her head. This was a great occasion for a lesson, she decided. "Let me be yours, then. You have my permission."

Tom blinked once, then twice. Stunned didn’t begin to cover it. Was she really...? No, it couldn't be. "I'm quite not sure I understand, mistress."

She cocked her brow at his reaction. Oh, this was going to be so much better than a movie or a soak. Lightly waving her hand at herself, she made it crystal clear to him.

"I'm yours tonight, to do as you please." Thomas gulped at her offer - no - her command, feeling his Adam's apple tightening just like his trousers. "Claim me, mark me, ravish me. Whatever you want - I can take it.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “Isn't that what you wanted, darling?" She goaded him.

Tom was taken aback, so much so, he didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. He’d never been in this position before. With other women, sure. But her? His mistress? His only mistress? He wouldn’t lie and pretend the thought had never crossed his mind, but it was never more than some delirious fantasies that taunted him when she kept him teetering on the edge for hours on end and his sanity became scarce. Tom tried to recall what he did to all the women before her, how he had his way with them before… before his mistress helped him discover who he was and what he truly needed.

He gazed upon her again, taking in the way she was waiting for him to do something, head cocked expectantly, exposing the slender column of her neck, the upward tilt op her lip never quite turning into a smirk yet not straying far from it. She was taunting him, testing him. Tom that even if he seized control now, it would be at her demand. No matter what he did, she’d still have the upper hand. She was not giving herself to him the way he gave herself to her. No, she was simply humouring him like a pet. And it made him want nothing more than to make her choke on her words.

I can take it, she’d said. He would be the judge of that, he vowed.

With two long strides, he crossed the room, stopping only he had crowded her against the navy wall. Even with the black high heels she fancied, Tom towered over her. His fingers went to her chin, tilting her face upwards and forcing her to look into his eyes before he leant down and kissed her ferociously. He let his tongue invade her mouth, the back of her head hitting the wall behind her as their teeth clicked together. And then he hesitated, a small pause in his moves as if he waited once again for her permission. Instead, she smiled against his lips, encouraging him silently and then gasped in mouth under the reprised assault, surprising both of them with the sweet sound.

Tom broke off the kiss, tracing his lips along her jawline before settling on the soft spot beneath her earlobe. She flinched against him when he started sucking on her skin, stopping only to alternate with nibbles. To his surprise, she didn’t protest. In lieu of that, she was oddly compliant under his touch even as the guilty feeling that he was doing something naughty and forbidden invaded him. Would she punish him later? Shaking off these thoughts, he thrust up his hips, pressing the outline of his throbbing erection against her lower stomach. Her shaky, shallow breaths were driving him mad.

He had perhaps expected that she would rock her hips against him, rub herself on him like a cat in heat. Tom should have known better than to predict her reactions. She slid her hand between their bodies, cupping his balls and the base of his erection, adding yet another layer between his cock and the sweet cunt he so desired. His lips went slack against her neck. She knew just how much pressure to apply, knew what drove him wild better than he himself did. After all, she was his mistress. She also knew he hadn’t been granted permission to cum for the past three days.

His hand fisted her hair tightly, pulling on it and giving her no choice but to look up at him. She was beautiful like this; he had never seen her from this angle. Like a black rose, it was beautiful to look at, but unnatural. She then had the audacity to grin, her hand never stopping its languid caress, not even when he tilted her head so back far, she was looking up at the ceiling. The position exposed all her elegant neck to him. Tom could spot the frantic pulsing of her artery just next to the hickey he had sucked onto her skin. He should cover her in hickeys, he decided; her neck, of course, but also her collarbones, her breasts, the dips on her hips and the skin on her inner thighs that was softer than velvet and silk combined.

An opportunist, she had used his short distraction to loosen up his belt just enough to slither her small hand inside his trousers and boxers. He gasped at her touch, warm breath puffing against her skin before he seized her wandering hand without a warning, pinning it on the wall above her head.

Tom glared down at her, nostrils flared and eyes dark; a silent warning. She wasn’t used to submitting, he wasn’t even sure she had done it before. He half expected her to call out their safe word, to say ‘opium’ and have him stop it all. He halted, giving her the chance do so, even as he desired nothing more than to throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress. He had the strength for it, he could overpower her easily anytime, but his limbs didn’t obey. It felt forbidden, even with her permission.

She chuckled devilishly as if his grip on her hair didn’t cause her any pain even when she did so. “That’s it, big boy? Where did all that fury of yours go?” She was egging him on again. And for a moment, he was able to picture it in his mind. The large, burning imprint of his hand on her ass, the smudged mascara underneath her eyes as he made her choke on his cock. “Cat got your tongue and your brain?”

That did it. “Shut up,” Tom ordered at the same time as he pulled her off the wall, steering her to the bed with his grip on her head before forcefully throwing her down on the mattress face first. Spotting the zipper running along the back of elegant silk dress, he gave the garment a chance but ended up ripping it open at the seams when it got stuck. His patience was running out. “Scoot over. I want you right in the centre.”

She did as he asked without a single word. Moving to the middle of the mattress, she left behind her torn dress and lied down on her back, showing off her lingerie. It was black and lacy, and intricate. He wanted to destroy it the same way you felt driven to pluck the prettiest flower. She propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her legs and showing him her pretty little cunt through the crotchless panties as Tom took his time taking off his clothes at the end of the bed.

“You’re such a wanton vixen,” he told her. His fear that he was perhaps taking it too far was stilled when he watched her fingers graze over her clit. “Don’t touch what’s mine.” She obeyed, though she sported a Cheshire cat grin. It would be gone soon.

Tom crawled his way over her body, his broader shoulders caging her in, a growl escaping his throat as his pulsing cock slid along the warm skin of her thigh, leaving behind a trail of precum. He brought his face to hers and she parted her lips, expecting a kiss. He bit down on her neck instead, not strongly enough to draw blood but enough for it to sting. And sting it did, her back arching up like a tense bow.

Freeing one hand, he opened the front of her bra with no struggle. The lace fell apart, revealing her ample breasts to his eyes. Tom inhaled sharply at the sight of her pebbled nipples before sliding lower and seizing one between his teeth, nibbling on the sensitive nub mercilessly. Her lips canted up against his as she moaned, head thrown back against the pillow. She was enjoying it, her hand clutching his curls firmly, but not pulling him off. In fact, he decided, she was enjoying this way too much.

Tom let go of her breast, grinning at the offended look she shot him. She wasn’t used to being denied her pleasure. A bit hypocritical, he sniggered. He was determined to make her regret all those times she had tied him to the headboard, the hours she had spent teasing him, edging him, leaving him wanting, the bloody cock cage she had made him wear for a week after disobeying her. “As much as I love your pretty face, I have other plans for you tonight.” He groaned, and then without giving her time for the words to sink in, he spun her around on her belly.

She tried raising herself up on her elbows, but Tom didn’t let her, applying enough pressure between her shoulder blades to get the message across. Still, somehow, she managed to turn her head sideways, mouth parted as she struggled for air. “You’ll pay for this, darling,” she promised all too confidently but didn’t utter the safe word. He spanked her ass.

“Let us first see if you’re still able to do anything after this,” Tom teased as he forced his knees between her legs, prying them open and putting her tempting cunt on display. She smelled ripe.

Holding himself up on one hand next to her head, he moved to cover her body with his, casting a shadow all around her frame. With his free hand, Tom gripped his cock. He was still hard. Not that it was a surprise: when was he ever not hard in her presence?

Tom stroked his iron shaft twice before moving his long fingers to her core. Her probed at her warm, delicate folds. She was wet, though not soaked the way she only got after he’d spent ages worshipping her pussy. He guided himself to her entrance, making her feel his glans pressing against her opening.

This would hurt sweetly without more foreplay – she was a small, little thing and him the opposite. And yet, she didn’t even flinch, her eyes didn’t waver, quite the contrary. She was daring him to do it, looking back at him over her shoulder with curled lips. Tom had never been allowed inside her without her explicit permission – often after pitiful begging on his part. Gauging her reaction, he pointed his cock at her tiny puckered hole instead. Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply, preparing herself for the painful intrusion. Still no safe word. She was tough to crack, Tom realised, not unimpressed before aligning himself with her pussy again. He didn’t dare take her last virgin hole with no preparation, desecrate his mistress like that.

His arm shook as he held up his weight. One thrust, that’s all it would take. He’d fuck her the way he had imagined himself doing countless times before, when his love for her blurred at the border between hatred and love, enmity and devotion, when she deemed his begging not sincere enough or made him plead even for an orgasm by his own hand like a dutiful puppet.

He wanted nothing more than to have his cock engulfed by her warmth. His cock begged him for it. She was waiting for him to thrust in, propping up her ass invitingly, the slope of her back acute. She was beautiful, face up or face down. She was everything Tom had ever desired in a woman. And yet, to him, she looked wrong in this position. He groaned in frustration, sweaty curls clinging to his forehead as his arm kept shaking. This was not how she was meant to be taken, to be pleasured. Just like you wouldn’t drink champagne from a dirty, plastic goblet, Tom couldn’t bring himself to fuck her like this, like an animal.

Letting out the most frustrated of growls, he seized her shoulder, turning her around without a warning before letting himself fall down on the mattress next to her. “I can’t do it,” he confessed, voice cracking.

Tom saw in the way her lips suddenly smirked and her eyes twinkled, finally understanding why she had never seemed apprehensive. His mistress had known all along he wouldn't be able to go through with it, even if he himself thought he could. She had called him on his bluff and won.

"Of course, you could not do it, darling," she cooed, sitting up next to him. "Do you want to know why?" Her fingers traced the line of his jaw almost condescendingly.

Tom swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing as he stared up at her. His previous boldness had left without leaving a trace. "Please, mistress."

She smiled again even as she slid a leg over his chest, enclosing him between the warmth of her thighs. And then, leaning down, she whispered into his ear as if sharing a great secret. "Because, my sweet boy, it’s not in your nature to take by force. You want to please me and earn what I give to you.” She murmured seductively. “Am I wrong?"

Tom shook his head almost at once, the need to please her surging in him at her words. She was never wrong, not when it came to him. And when she moved up to sit on his face, all he could do was mouth a breathless thank you for being allowed to touch her even after his misbehaving before his need to be her good boy drove him to her cunt.

She kept one hand wrapped tightly in his curls, the other one holding onto to the headboard to keep steady. Her sweet Tom was indeed very talented with his tongue, she barely had to guide him at all but that still didn't mean she'd let go of her tight grip anytime soon. "Such a good boy," she praised him, more breathless than she liked to admit. "Licking your mistress's cunt so well." Tom whimpered against her clit; praise always got him needy and she enjoyed his desperate sounds almost as much as she did his tongue.

Close to orgasm, she decided to reward him for his eager work. Her hand left the headboard, searching for his to place it on her breast. She moved her eyes, finding that his hand was no longer clutching the bed sheets in desperate need like it had been seconds ago.

Craning her neck backwards to look over shoulders even as the first pleasures started sparkling and erupting from her clit, she spotted his hand snaking along his side to his weeping cock which had already formed a small, sticky puddle on his navel.

She managed to seize his disobedient hand just before she came, twisting and squeezing it painfully in her fist even as she rocked against his face through the waves of her orgasm, with no regard to his breathing.

With one last deep breath even as Tom still lapped at her juices, she moved away from his mouth and went to straddle his chest, covering him in her slick. He was panting, eyes closed with a furrow between his brows even as she felt him thrust up his hips into thin air, seeking an inexistent friction. What a sweet, needy boy, too bad he couldn't control himself.

Before she could even say anything, Tom apologised the moment his eyes blinked open. "I'm sorry, mistress," he exhaled.

She rubbed his bruising knuckles with her thumb, etching a look of concern on her face and she saw the way his expression visibly relax at her soft smile. God, she loved toying with him, especially when he misbehaved. "You'll make up for your disobedience with your big cock, won't you, darling?" She cooed.

The thought of finally sinking his cock inside had him nodding eagerly at her, sweaty curls bouncing like a halo around his angelic face. "Yes, mistress. Anything you want."

Oh, she wanted this alright, she mused as she reached out her hand to gently cup his cheek, a smile ghosting on her lips. She scooted over, moving backwards to straddle his hips. His cock was the prettiest shade of pink and the hardest kind of iron.

With a finger she lightly traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft, noticing how he moaned even as he fought the urge to rock up against her touch. It was adorable, the way he was trying to be good now that she’d chastised him. She decided not to tell him it was too late for any of that now.

Instead, she slid her wet cunt along his shaft, the frown of desperate concentration on his eyes more than making up for the slight discomfort on her sensitive folds. How long since she had last let him cum, she wondered, knowing this was going to be torture for him. The loud gasp that escaped his throat when she wrapped her hand firmly around the base of his cock only served as further proof.

Tom's eyes were bright and wide, unable to focus on a particular image as his mistress lowered herself on his desperate cock; the sight of himself disappearing inside her tight channel, the bouncing of her breasts as she moved languorously and languidly, or perhaps, those five seconds of deep intake of air during which her eyes closed and her face lost that regal composure of hers before she got used to the stretch.

"How does that feel, darling?" She asked him with the smile of someone who already knew the answer, in rhythm with her riding of him. She never moved with short, clear-cut thrusts, her hips smoothly undulating instead in a way that had him helpless and feeling the tightening in his gut surging way too soon.

"Very good, mistress," he managed to reply though it came out strangled, his muscles have begun tensing and his fingers itching to touch his mistress. Tom knew better this time.

She seemed satisfied with his response, picking up a faster pace above him. Watching Tom's face contort with bliss brought her just as much pleasure as the rutting of his cock. Tendons straining against his throat, eyes tightly shut and anguished whimpers escaping his parted lips. She anticipated his pleas the moment Tom opened his eyes like a wild animal blinded by the lights. "I need to cum. Please, mistress," he begged, knuckles turning white around the crumpled bedsheets. "Please let me cum."

Her hand moved to his throat, finger pads digging softly into his skin for balance. He loved her hand there, it was a reassurance and a threat all at once and he keened under her touch. She shook her head softly. "No."

The single word startled him as much as her increased pace. He was too close, he wouldn't be able to- "Please, mistress," Tom whined and blabbered, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before running down his sharp cheeks as he fought his release until his muscles trembled.

Still, she took no mercy, shushing him with a finger on his lips. As her orgasm crept closer at a dizzying pace, the look of focus and torment on his sweet, angelic face became almost too much to bear. He was trying so hard to be her good boy, it was beyond adorable.

So, when she tightened around him like a vice as bliss took over her mind and Tom let out the loudest strangled moan, she knew he was bound to fail her command no matter his determination and finally took pity on his anguish. "Cum for me, darling."

Tom tried to thank her for the privilege of filling her with his cum but his control burst at her permission before he was able to say anything intelligible. Instead, he cried out as he came in her, spurt after spurt.

Still coming down from her own high, she climbed off of Tom and then sat down next to him, moving his head to rest on her thigh. She decided to reserve his punishment for tomorrow, noticing his need for aftercare. She'd learned to expect his vulnerability after an orgasm, his longing to be held tightly and true enough, he moved to his side and hugged her waist. "You're okay, darling?" She asked, or rather, cooed.

Tom nuzzled into her thigh, a soft smile on his thin lips. "Yes, mistress, thank you," he mumbled against her skin and then she heard the slight shift in his voice. "I am sorry, for earlier..."

She smiled down at him, brushing his sweaty curls off of his forehead. "I know, sweetie."

It was a struggle then to get him out of bed and into the bathroom, with him holding on to her for dear life. But a small order from her and Tom complied, following her into the shower where she had him kneeling on the floor before her with his face pressed to her sternum as she washed his hair. Her sweet boy wouldn’t like what tomorrow held for him.

[instasiswetrust]

Steve's not quite drunk but there's a pleasant buzz under his skin that leaves him feeling pliant and loose, enough to keep any unsavory thoughts at bay for the time being.

The scent of chlorine and bleach that envelops him once he opens the pool doors, familiar comforts by now, help clear some of the haze of alcohol that has befallen him from his last drink taken at the Auris that night. Or morning. He's not entirely sure.

It brings back the memories that he had been trying so hard to forget. A lavender envelope had been in his mail that day, inside of it an invitation trimmed with delicate filigree. For Nancy's and Jonathan's wedding.

A fall wedding.

The type which he and Nancy had joked about back when they were together, not long before Jonathan had joined them.

He had gone through his work with the kind of detachment that usually meant nothing was truly registering. Adam might have noticed at one point, too attuned already to the tells under the porcelain of Steve's mask, but the memory is fuzzy and he can't remember if he ever gave a proper answer to his manager's concerned query.

As soon as work was done, he had made his way to the Auris in search of something to get his mind off the pain that clutched the shards of his heart like a vice. Or rather, someone. It had been his favorite dancer's day off or something though, leaving him to spend the rest of his night watching the dancers on stage and sipping on the ocassional drink.

Something had made him want to climb the stairs to the gym's pool, though. And that's why he was here now.

"Are you drunk?" The voice that speaks has become familiar in the same way the scent and sounds of the pool has and when he looks up to meet the eyes of its owner, he finds them startled if slightly amused.

"Only a little bit." He shrugs, plopping down by the edge of the pool with his legs crossed under him. The bleach might leave stains on his Levi's but he can't really muster enough energy to give a fuck right now. "'s not that bad."

"You kind of reek of cigarette smoke and whiskey."

Yep. Definitely amused.

"Spilled some scotch on my shirt. The smoke is probably from the cab driver." Another shrug but this time he levels Billy with apologetic doe eyes. "I can leave if it bothers you."

"You're fine, I was just curious." The blonde swims closer, crossing his arms over the edge next to where Steve sits once he's close enough. "First time I've seen you up here wearing something other than your ridiculous pajamas."

"They are not ridiculous!" Steve protests at once, pouting. "And you have seen me in swimwear too!"

"Last week you were wearing bright red shorts that said Bite Me across the ass, and a t-shirt that said Friends don't lie in big bold letters with a heart-shaped waffle at the center." Billy deadpans, raising a single eyebrow. "The shirt was at least two sizes too big for you."

"They were gifts." Brown eyes narrow into a glare but the petulant pout kind of offsets the vibe.

"I thought models were supposed to have taste in clothes."

"We're supposed to look pretty while others dress us. It's not in the job description to have taste."

"So you admit you have no taste then." Billy was giving him that smirk, the one Steve called insufferable but discretly considered hot as fuck. How dare he be so sinfully handsome.

"I said no such thing!" Steve crosses his arms over his chest, tipping his chin up in the perfect picture of snotty petulance. He could already feel the laughs bubbling in his chest, wanting to break the mock facade.

It takes only a second or two of Billy giving him an skeptical look before they are both laughing.

He had missed this kind of easy-going banter. Most of his friends he only saw around the holidays, and the environment at work was more prone to talks about weight loss and botox than anything else.

New York never slept but that only made it all the more lonely.

His sullen mood must've reflected on his face because he feels something poke at his thigh, meeting Billy's eyes when he turns to look at him.

"You didn't just come here so I could make fun of your taste in clothes, did you?"

"I-"

It's only then that Steve realizes Billy is right.

The reason his alcohol fogged brain has preferred to come up here rather than crash into his bed wasn't just some way of punishing himself even further. Not entirely at least. He had come here because it was a place of comfort for him.

And because he had a friend here, too.

"No. Not just that." Steve sighs, letting his eyes focus on the slow movement of the pool water instead of Billy's face.

"Do you..." A moment of hesitation, as if he's not sure about his words. "want to talk about it?"

Brown eyes close, keeping his focus on the in and out of air through his lungs for a few moments until he feels less like he's going to burst out crying the moment he sets these awful thoughts into words.

Makes them all the more real.

"My... exes. They are getting married. To each other." He doesn't open his eyes, doesn't do anything more than try to keep his voice steady even as the aching pain of heartbreak weighs down on his chest. "I received the invitation this morning."

There's a low whistle. It sounds like sympathy. It sounds real.

"That bites," Billy says, and his voice has a dulled edge to it. Commiseration with flavor, or something like that, but it's three am and there's nothing but cold tile and the soft wake of lit water. "Is this ... like a sudden spur of the moment thing?"

When Steve turns doe eyes to him, Billy raises up his hands, only moderately pruned, in an easing gesture.

"You don't have to answer. Just..." A pause. A beat as the swimmer looks for the right string of words. "Just trying to gauge how much of a dick move this is."

There's a laugh, dull and mirthless. A sad little sound.

“We have been friends since high school. All three of us dated for a bit longer after that. We went through some hard stuff together back in Indiana.” He shrugs, keeping his eyes closed. Tears at bay. “Was supposed to be the kind of friendship that lasted even after we broke up.”

It’s all my fault. He doesn't say.

My stupid heart and I. We ruined it all.

It takes a split second of contemplation, because, after all, they're total strangers. But once upon a time, someone gave Billy this sideways kindness and it helped. Maybe Steve and his overly fancy hair won't mind it too much.

So Billy acts on the impulse.

It's a tiny splash. Really very minuscule. Aimed and precise for the minimum impact upon the sitting duck target. But water is water. Nobody can tell tears from pool water.

"You were thinking too hard." He places the excuse on the table, sinking lower into the water, comfortable in this strange company. Even if the guy seems to be at the end of his rope. There's something about him. Like a dream you don't want to forget. "I could see the smoke. Had to cool you down."

The water is warm and yet is still enough of a shock to force Steve's eyes to open.

His first instinct is to protest, say something about the action being rude and uncalled for. Stand up and leave, most likely.

But what he sees in Billy's face — hears in his voice — is enough to give him a moment's pause. To truly appreciate the action for the small kindness it is.

This time when the tears dribble down his cheeks in quiet drops, he has something to hide them behind.

“You really think you're funny, huh?”

And if his voice is a little too wet to be considered normal, they don't have to talk about it.

"I'm hilarious," Billy says as he sinks a little lower into the water, mostly to hide his smug grin, but in part to hide away. "The girl gang that lets me tag along sometimes says so."

“Of course you are.” Steve rolls his eyes, using his fingers to brush back his mostly dry hair. He should probably wash the chlorine out of his hair before going to bed or it would be stiff come morning.

“Is that why you're trying to become a prune? For maximum fun effect?”

“Nah,” Billy waves off the prune comment. He’s hardly started his routine. Pool time ain’t over until everything has that post-workout burn and his stomach begs for food. Makes time easier to keep that way. “I just like to swim.”

Just like Tony Hawk likes to skateboard, he supposes, but understating his profession like this is one of the best parts of the job. Gotta get your kicks when you find them.

“Why? Got something against prunes?” He laughs, “They just want to help you. Healthy stomach, and all.”

“Not particularly, but they do remind me of my Nonna. She likes her prunes.” Another shrug, this time easier. Easy banter is much better than worrying about that little envelope sitting on his coffee table.

The tears have stopped too, the contacts itching slightly against his eyes. Probably from the mix of salt and chlorine. Thankfully, his cardigan is mostly dry and he takes it off to use it as a makeshift towel.

“Is that why you're always here at weird hours? You some sort of pool cryptid or something?”

“That’s only step one of my master plan.”

Billy likes the sound of pool cryptid. Sounds a lot more mysterious and fun than what he’s actually doing, which is training until he drops so the nightmares won’t kick up.

A snort, loud and sudden leaves Steve at that, straining a little in his throat. Mom would say it's undignified. Dad would say it's ugly. He doesn't particularly care either way.

“And pray tell, what would step two entail? Flooding the city?”

Cute laugh, Billy thinks briefly surprised. Much better than seeing the guy choke back tears. Let's see if he can't instigate a bit more of that amusement. It's bound to taste better than the misery the brunette wanted to wallow in.

"What kind of water-based supervillain do you take me for?" Billy, mock-miffed, places a hand over his heart and huffs. "That's so silver-age comics. And you're not even my henchman. Why should I tell you anything about my master plan?"

A finger taps at his chin, seemingly thinking hard about his answer. Steve's not particularly well versed in comics but Dustin’s done his best to keep him on the smallest of loops.

He no longer mixes Superman with Captain America, at least.

“Fair point. You don't have the looks to pass off as Aquaman.” Steve purses his lips, offering his best apologetic doe-eyed look. Although he's definitely bluffing because if there's anybody out there who could give Aquaman a run for his money it would be Billy. “And who says I couldn't be your henchman?”

"Did you fill out the paperwork?"

Everyone knows bureaucracy is the lungs of evil. Or something like that. Sue him, he was never great with metaphors on the fly.

“Honey, if I wanted to fill paperwork I wouldn't have taken modeling as a career.”

It's an exaggeration for the most part. Steve's too used to poking fun about himself these days that it doesn't sting as bad as it used. Not too much.

Billy cocks his head and lets the loaded sentence drop and drift away.

"Then guess you can't be a henchman."

“I can make killer margaritas, though.”

“I don’t really drink too much.” The nightmares get worse when he’s anything but sober. It’s better to be exhausted. It’s the easiest way. “Medication reasons.”

A little white lie that’s hardly a lie, he really shouldn’t drink with his ADHD meds, but who ever listens to that rule? Nah. Only when it suits him.

“Model thing explains your hair though. Glad we solved that mystery.”

“Fair.” Steve offers a smile, crooked and a little pinched at the edges but a smile nonetheless. “I’m not supposed to either. Nutritionist's orders.”

To be fair, he's not supposed to be drinking at all. Smoking too. It's a little hard not to indulge every once in a while, though.

The model comment surprises him. There's a billboard with his face just a few blocks down from this apartment complex. He can see it from his room. How has this guy not recognized him?

It's surprisingly refreshing.

“Hm? Oh no, the model thing has nothing to do with my hair. That's just personal taste.”

Now that Billy cares to look, Steve’s face is achingly familiar. Oh, the trials and tribulations of having attention issues. At least there’s a better reason for the weird familiarity than must just have one of those faces.

“Can’t relate.” He’s not particularly attached to any bodily feature of his. It’s a side effect, he’s told. Reassured. It's just a consequence, and nothing more. “Doing things with hair? Nah. Sounds too complicated.”

“Sounds like the kind of thing a pool cryptid would say.” There’s a story behind Billy's words. Something missing, hidden skin deep. Steve hopes the light jab helps diffuse that somewhat.

“What are you, a cop?” Billy smirks, and because he is the pinnacle of maturity, he dips under the water with an obnoxious splash.

“Asshole” Steve hisses, droplets dribbling down his bangs and into the cardigan bunched up in his lap.

With a sigh, he forces himself to get up. Might as well take that shower now.

Billy surfaces, still grinning, because even if the guy looks pissed at him, that means he’s not stewing in the past with his soon-to-be-married exes and the Hercules-class weight of baggage that relationship caused.

“Guys by the pool get splashed. No matter what time it is or how cute they are. Cryptid rules.” His smirk it's wide, tip of his tongue between his teeth. "If you weren’t prepared to get wet, then why’d you come?”

Steve shrugs, doing his best to ignore that peek of a pink tongue. “The local cryptid makes for good conversation.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” Billy makes a little show of floating back, caught in thought. “I don’t know how I feel about spectators.”

“I can stop.” Painfully honest. If Billy really wants him to, Steve would stop. He would prefer not to, though.

“Nah. I’m only pulling your leg.” Billy returns to the pool’s edge. Rests his cheek on the edge, looking up at pretty boy model Steve.

“Things get too quiet sometimes.”

Steve hums softly in agreement, feeling relief ease itself back into his bones. He would have stopped, yes, but he wouldn't have particularly liked the prospect of it.

“You come here every day? Or have I just happened to stumble in on the days you're around?”

"Almost every day. Sometimes I take this side-show to other pools." Billy cracks his best Han Solo roguish smile, levies it against Steve's still too flat smile. "Gotta keep the government guessing sometimes, you know."

“Of course, wouldn't want to get caught and all that.” A yawn gets past Steve's lips, startling him. He hadn't registered how tired he was. “I’ll keep that in mind, for next time.”

“Thank you.” Quieter. Softer. Barely above a whisper but loud enough in the gentle silence of the pool.

It comes just as soft. It's almost tender, really, as the word casts across the water and tile and the near-lonely pool.

"Anytime."

---

The next time Steve visits, it's once again 3 AM but he makes the mistake (is it really a mistake?) to bring a tin of sugar cookies with him.

"Oh shit, are you sharing, or is this all to tease me?"

Steve is sitting by one of the benches, already halfway through a cookie. “Come out here and find out.”

Billy narrows his eyes, lips pulled into a thin frown.

"Fool me once." He waggles a single warning finger and doesn't even really bother to dry off as he drags himself out of the pool to plop down on the floor next to Steve and steal into the snacks.

There are enough cookies for both of them stuffed neatly in a tin container. It's awfully pretentious according to Dustin, but then again Steve's Nonna always said cookies tasted better stored that way.

“I'm not mean enough to just eat while you watch. Yet, at least.”

"Oh just wait until you know me better." Billy chirps, shoving two into his mouth, wholesale and choking a bit.

"Robin and Carol would do that in a heartbeat."

“They probably would have a good reason too.” Steve teases, watching with amused eyes as Billy almost chokes. They are just sugar cookies he managed to scrounge up with whatever was in his kitchen. Nothing that good.

“Easy there tiger, cookies ain't going anywhere.”

"You have no idea how hungry I always am."

Steve blinks, surprised. The words come out before he has a chance to truly think them over. “I’m a good cook.”

"Prove it." It's out of Billy's mouth before he can take it back, but on second thought, he doesn't really want to. Steve's good company, or at least he has been so far.

And he hasn't had a nightmare since.

Good omens.

“You're kind of choking on the proof right now.” Maybe it comes out a little lighter, a little too surprised.

That's fine. Whatever this thing is, it doesn't seem like too bad of a chance to take.

“But if you need some more convincing, I can offer dinner too.”

Wheezing, but recovering, Billy grins up at Steve but there's a hopeful spark in his blue eyes that wasn't there before. "Fuck yeah, gotta make sure it's not a fluke."

Steve offers him the thermos of coffee he had brought with him, suddenly too distracted by watching Billy drink to remember what he wanted to ask. “Uh... When are you free?”

"This Sunday, I think. Getting back from a rapids trip that I shouldn't keep doing but like fuck am I gonna listen to other people for something dumb like my health."

“Is it like, you could die type of thing or just one of those things doctors say we should stop doing and everyone ignores? Because dead people don't particularly eat.”

"I do dumb shit because regular training gets boring and people who actually like me have to put up with it." Billy waves a dismissive hand. "But that's what it takes to get me moving on schedule so. Yeah."

It drives his coach insane because doing his reps in real rivers with real currents isn't exactly... well. It's not what everyone else does for training and given that he has passed out mid-stroke before, he can't even say the risk is just the current. But he knows that upstate rivers like the back of his hand.

Yeah, life would be way easier if he didn't have ADHD, less doctor's notes for the cause of amphs in his piss, but it would also be super boring and he'd be even more traumatized, probably. And that would suck.

Steve thinks of Indiana, and a bat full of nails. Of cliff diving at the quarry, drunk on stolen bourbon and tasting cheap cigarettes. Of the Auris with his slew of dancers most of who he's shared a bed with more than once.

He thinks he has some experience with the whole doing dumb shit just to get his schedule moving.

"I will take your word for it then." Hums, thinking back to his schedule and what he has paged in for Sunday. There was that casting thing Adam wanted him to do but it was morning. "I should be free on Sunday. Any allergies I should account for?"

“None that I know of.” Spoken cheerfully

“Great. Gives me more to work with.” And this time when he smiles, it's the most honest he's offered since they met.

---

When he finds it again, it is entirely on accident.

Adam had scheduled a trip to California for a gig, something about a new summer line of wetsuits and surfboards this company wanted him to advertise. It was a big opportunity and it was good cash too, of course so Steve wasn't going to question why they thought it a good idea to present a summer line in the middle of august. But as usual, he had forgotten to pack his suitcases until the night before, and now he was left to scramble around his apartment searching for his stuff.

So when he finds the lavender envelope buried under a few recipe books and a hoodie, still unopened, he doesn't think much about it and opens it. It's only when he's staring at the date stenciled in black calligraphy under Nancy's and Jonathan's name that he realizes what he's looking at.

Oh right. Those two were getting married.

The familiar ache in his chest is still there, but it's muted enough that he's surprised. Between canceling his exclusive membership at the Auris, and his relationship with Billy coming out to the media, he had sort of forgotten all about the wedding.

Maybe...

Grabbing his phone from the bed, he shoots his boyfriend a quick text.

How do you feel about being my plus one to my exes' wedding?

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 7 (aka the ‘big boobie vampire mommy’ and ’mutant servant girl that is very horny for her’ chapter)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below:)

“Good evening, sir. Is there something I can assist you with, tonight? It’s quite late, and my mistress has already retired for the evening due to the strenuous nature of today’s events, so while I’m sure the good Lady Dimitrescu won’t be too terribly displeased if you’ve come with urgent news that requires her immediate attention, I’m afraid anything outside the realm of absolute importance will have to wait until morning, when my mistress will be better rested and therefore better able to address whatever concern you’ve brought” The low and smooth voice of an older teenage girl said, staring slightly downward at Salvatore with a level of such blank indifference that he would have wondered if the girl hadn’t seen him had she not outright greeted him upon opening the door.

With piercing red eyes, dark skin and long, black curls tied up neatly and carefully into two thick buns on either side of the top of her head, and dressed in a pretty, but still practical dress, the older teen looked every bit as much the role of a dignified estate’s head servant as she acted, right down to the pencil straight stiffness of her body. Despite how uncomfortable the stiff position looked to Salvatore, the subtly bold way she carried herself did give the older teen an air of confidence and reliability, however what it didn’t do was answer the multitude of questions flying around in Salvatore’s head about who she was, and more importantly, where she came from.

And then it hit him.

“Y-you’re… Alcina’s g-gift… aren’t y-you?” Salvatore asks aloud, though seemingly more to himself than the girl standing in front of him. Said girl furrows her brows in confusion for a moment before huffing in, what appeared to be, mild offense. Though what on earth Salvatore could have done to offend the young teen, he had absolutely no idea.

“I have no idea what you mean when talking about these so called “gifts”, however I think it's important for you to know that I am a very busy woman with a great many things to do, so if this is all some kind of sick game you’re playing to waste my time then I’m going to have to politely ask that you take your rotten whale behind and go throw yourself into the nearest body of-”

“Anastasia?” a low, feminine voice booms from somewhere behind the older teen standing before him. The girl immediately stiffens, her skin around her nose and cheeks darkening even further, her eyes growing wide and her breath catching in her throat as she turns around. Immediately abandoning Salvatore at the still open front door, the young servant clumsily made her way further into the room before disappearing out of the narrow view the hooded man had been given of the castle through the crack in the door.

Taking a step forward and opening the door enough to slip inside, making sure to close it securely behind him, Salvatore lingered along the walls of the room, merely observing the events before him unfold as the young girl, Anastasia, quickly moved to stand in the center of the circular design on the floor of the entrance hall. Waiting for her on the landing at the top of the stairs was none other than the lady of the house herself, Alcina Dimitrescu, standing as tall, proud, and intimidating as Salvatore last remembers, though it would appear that the disfigured man’s fear of the much larger woman was not shared amongst everyone in the room.

“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu! Is there something I can do for you this evening, my Lady?” Anastasia asks, hands clasped together in front of her and eyes blown wide at the gargantuan woman leering from above, like a lovesick puppy dog waiting for a command from its beloved owner. Eager to perform. Eager to please.

“Why yes, my sweet, I was just wondering what on earth all that racket was and if it could wait until morning to be finished? The girls and I have had quite the taxing day and I do so wish to retire to the sound of peace and quiet” Alcina coos warmly, causing Salvatore to pause in confusion.

“Oh goodness, I apologize, mistress. It’s just that there was a visitor at the door and despite my repeated attempts to convince him to come back when you were rested, he insisted upon making a nuisance of himself. Please forgive me if my attempts to preserve your restful evening were for naught” the girl said sadly, bowing deeply in apology as she continued to speak.

Alcina practically purrs in delight at the teen’s polite, but genuine behavior. “Fear not, my dear, I had only just taken off my earrings when I heard the commotion. I came out here merely to see if things were getting out of control, but it would appear as though you’ve handled things perfectly.”

The girlish blush on Anastasia’s face only darkens in color as the young teen casts her adoring gaze to the floor, joyous glee from having been praised by her mistress evident all over the younger girl’s body.

Not wanting to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary, especially if this is what he’d have to witness the whole time, Salvatore gathers all of his strength and uses it to clear his throat and take a step forward, revealing himself to both women as he gingerly comes out into the light.

“YOU!” Anastasia yells, immediately turning on her heel and making a beeline toward the increasingly anxious Salvatore. “So not only have you made enough of a nuisance of yourself to disturb the lovely Lady Dimitrescu just as she’s about to retire and rest from a very long and taxing day, but now you’ve decided that you’re so above everyone else that you can just waltz right into someone else’s home without even the slightest hint of respect or admiration for the incredible woman living in it, how dare you be so crash and selfish you overcooked blowfish, exit this castle immediately, or I’ll shove my boot so far up your rear end you’ll be fishing around for it for weeks you-”

“Anastasia, calm yourself, dear” the loud, but calming sound of Alcina’s voice said, causing the young teen to pause in her angry scolding of Salvatore.

“My Lady?” The young teen asks, dutifully awaiting orders.

“Let the wretched man inside, he’s the furthest thing from a threat to us, even if he is an annoying little manthing. Although, I’d be lying if I said a visit from you at this hour of night is something I’ve come to expect of you, dearest elder brother.”

The disfigured man swallowed thickly as he stepped past Anastasia to fully face his other younger sister, who looked all the more intimidating from her looming perch upon the upper story.

“I-I know this is s-sudden…” Salvatore begins, hoping he’d at least be able to explain himself before Alcina tossed him back outside on his ass.

“I’ll certainly say” Anastasia bursts in angrily, but she’s quickly silenced and sent away to tend to her other duties by Alcina, who motions for Salvatore to ascend the large set of stairs leading up to the rest of the castle and join her on the landing for a moment.

“Spunky little thing, isn’t she?” Alcina says when Salvatore finally makes it to the top of the stairs, panting slightly as he follows the much taller mutant’s gaze to the door that Anastasia had just exited the room from.

“Th-that’s certainly… one way… o-of putting it” Salvatore stutters, not wanting to offend Alcina by calling her servant rude, but clearly not seeing what’s so great about someone who just yells at you a lot the second you walk through the door.

“Yes! She apparently received a strain of cadou that was quite similar to mine, however her need to consume blood to maintain herself is far more similar to that of leeches. Rather than having to consume it regularly in smaller doses, like myself, she’ll only require one feeding every few weeks or so, which I thought was quite interesting. The only issues Mother Miranda brought up was the fact that her hunger, if it gets bad enough, can trigger both her transformation, as well as some sort of feral and animalistic meltdown that only ends once she’s finally had her fill. Apparently more than a few villagers were lost in the process of learning this information” Alcina comments casually, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Mother only brought her over earlier today, just before dinner, and yet she’s already managed to carve quite the little space for herself here. I hadn’t realized how dirty this place was without any girls left to take from the village until she went through and washed all the walls in the west wing spotless. It was like night and day, I could hardly believe how open and bright the halls looked” Alcina stated.

“W-wow… so th-then… d-do you think y-you’ll keep her a-around… long term?” Salvatore asks curiously, craning his neck so he could get a better look at his sister’s face.

“Perhaps. I’m certainly thinking about it. Not only is she an incredibly hard and fast worker, but she’s also got such a lovely spark of energy and excitement to her, and she’s always very polite and respectful, if a bit obvious in her “admiration” of those she looks up to… not that that’s a bad thing, necessarily. It’s quite sweet, actually!”

“S-she did look… q-quite taken… by y-you” Salvatore comments, having noticed the girl’s far-too-eager-to-be-innocent disposition when Alcina was in the room, vs. when it was just him. Not that it was a terribly surprising turn of events. Alcina, for all her monstrous height and sheer mutant bulk, was still a very beautiful, and very desirable woman at the end of the day, meanwhile Salvatore was only about 2 rolls of the genetic dice away from sharing a more recent common ancestor with the blobfish than he did humans.

“I know, isn’t she adorable? She came exactly like this, too. Mother Miranda has no idea if this is a result of the mutation process or if it's merely her former personality finally returning now that she’s awake and out of containment, but I suppose the logistics of things aren’t really important in the end. I'm so glad I chose her over the other two, I don’t know what I would have done had such a promising and delectable little morsel like her go to waste on the rest of you imbeciles” Alcina coos in amusement. “Regardless of what Mother Miranda said however, I was almost certain this whole “gift” situation was going to be nothing more than a pile of useless drivel that I’d be left to clean up all on my own once the novelty wore off, however after having Anastasia here for these past few hours, and seeing all that she’s willing and capable of doing, I’m beginning to wonder if perhaps I’d been too hasty in my final decision.”

“Funny… K-Karl thought m-much the… th-the same thing i-initially… w-when I t-talked to him… th-the other day… th-though… knowing him… I doubt h-he’s having q-quite as much… of a ch-change of heart… as you a-are” Salvatore said suddenly, more than anything due to the incredible shock that was the concept of Alcina and Karl sharing a similar opinion, at the same time, while both occupying the same dimension of reality.

Alcina’s face immediately turns sour at the mention of Karl. “Oh, did he now? That’s an unfortunate thing to learn,” she says in annoyance, clearly displeased by the notion of agreeing with Karl on anything.

“Y-yes… he… he th-thinks that maybe… M-Mother might b-be using the g-gifts… to d-distract us w-while she’s g-gone away… o-on her mission… b-but that maybe… sh-she also wants… s-something else out of a-all this… something… th-that she isn’t t-telling us… f-for some reason” Salvatore explains, unsure if he should be revealing all this information to Alcina, notorious and open critic of Karl and quite literally everything the younger man has ever done and said, is doing and saying, and will do and say sometime in the span of his chaotic lifespan.

Contrary to what Salvatore assumed, however, instead of looking bored and uninterested in what Karl thought about this whole situation, Alcina looked just the slightest bit… intrigued, if still clearly wary. “Really? And what, pray tell, does our dear sweet little brother Heisenberg believe will come of this whole situation then? Did he say?”

“H-he… he never m-mentioned anything s-specific… but he th-thinks that the g-gifts… might p-play a l-larger role… in all th-this… than M-Mother has been l-leading us to believe.”

“I see,” Alcina says, remaining silent for a moment as she thinks, looking almost concerned by what she’s heard. “And what do you think of this whole mess, Salvatore?”

“U-um… well… I-I think it’s nice… th-that Mother trusts us e-enough… to g-give us her p-previous experiments… and u-use them however w-we want… b-but I’d be l-lying if I s-said… that I d-didn’t think Karl… was o-onto something… I-I don’t know w-what I believe to be t-true a-at the moment… but I d-do know… th-that I’d like t-to give… g-give a gift of m-my own… to Nadine… and that… and that y-you might be… s-someone else who c-could help me… w-with that” the hooded man explains nervously, hoping that Alcina was in a good enough mood to feel like humoring him and his sudden request.

“Nadine?” The tall, pale woman asks in confusion, before suddenly nodding in understanding. “Ah, your gift…”

Salvatore nods. “D-Donna… is f-fashioning a n-new dress… for her… a-and even gave me… this b-beautiful nightgown… to hold h-her over until… until the real one is c-complete. I th-think she w-will… e-enjoy the nightgown b-but… but I’d like to… l-like to get her something else t-too… like a… like a necklace… a-a gold one… o-one that w-would… c-complement her skin tone… j-just right.”

Alcina briefly stares at Salvatore with a blank expression, momentarily making the hooded man worry that he’d overstepped his boundaries and said something to offend the much larger woman. His nerves are thankfully calmed when Alcina turns and orders Salvatore to follow after her, which the disfigured man happily does if it means what he thinks it means.

The two siblings arrive at Alcina’s personal chambers just as Anastasia is exiting them, her arms filled by a large basket of blood soaked towels and clothes, some collected from Alcina’s room, the others likely from either Bela, Cassandra, or Daniela’s rooms.

“Good evening, Lady Dimitrescu! Are you finally retiring for the evening?” Anastasia asks, bowing cheerfully as she finally notices her mistress approaching her. “I’ve already gone ahead and prepared your bed for you, as well as collected all the soiled laundry from today’s harvest. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“Thank you, my dear, but not quite, I have one more matter to attend to before I fully turn in. Since you were so kind to offer however, I would greatly appreciate it if, once Lord Moreau and I are finished with our affairs, you would be so kind as to escort him to the front door and bid him a good night, for me. You are free to retire to your own chambers for the evening once he’s left” Alcina orders softly, which the young girl obediently nods her head to.

“Of course, mistress, thank you very much! And I’d be happy to see Lord Moreau out for you, so please don’t hesitate to call me once you’re finished with your meeting” Anastasia says, bowing lowly to both Alcina and Salvatore before wordlessly skittering off to do… whatever it was she planned on doing to those dirty garments.

“Now, about that gift you were talking about” Alcina says upon entering her personal bedroom, immediately striding over to her vanity and beginning to sift through several boxes worth of jewelry, “you said you wanted gold, correct? And a necklace specifically?”

“Y-yes! I-if you have anything y-you’re willing to… g-give away… of course… I’d feel t-terrible taking something i-if it meant a g-great deal to you” Salvatore answers, standing awkwardly in the doorway as he waits for Alcina to return to him with whatever she finds.

Of all 3 of his siblings, Alcina was the one Salvatore was easily the least close to, despite having been the only two around for a considerable amount of time before the eventual arrivals of both Donna and then Karl. It wasn’t that Salvatore was displeased when Mother Miranda first informed him that he’d be getting a “sibling” all those years ago, but Alcina’s natural personality, coupled with her terrifying size and strength from the mutations, had made the very meek and timid Salvatore hesitant to reach out and form any kind of sibling bond with the younger woman, like he had with Karl.

Karl was a royal pain in the ass to deal with on even his best days, but at the end of it all, there’s still only so much a 6 year old can do to you, anger issues and mutant metal bending powers or not. Alcina was both a royal pain in the ass to deal with more often than not, but also a fully grown adult when she first joined the family, so needless to say the 2 oldest siblings hadn’t been given very many appropriately opportune moments to bond or get along.

That being said however, the simple but elegant golden locket that Alcina procures from one of her many boxes of jewelry has Salvatore wondering if maybe he had misjudged Alcina, having never expected her to show him something as luxurious and real-looking as this, especially when the understanding was that she’d be giving it away whatever item of jewelry Salvatore took a liking to.

“This is an old locket I received for my 3rd birthday from a relative who died long before I was old enough to care about who they were, though all those diamond star details on the front do make me think they could have been close with us at one point, or perhaps they just had that much money to throw around? It’s an old and well-loved piece of my collection, but Duke has been bringing back such wonderful treasures from his travels that I just have to start getting rid of some of these old sentimental trinkets so I can make room for all the new additions I plan on purchasing once he finally returns” Alcina explains, gingerly handing the necklace over to Salvatore, who could do nothing but gawk at how extravagant and, to be perfectly honest, expensive the necklace looked.

With 4 small diamonds, likely real knowing Alcina, embedded into the surface of the locket’s front cover, surrounded by small engravings that give the glimmering stones the appearance of stars in the night sky, the necklace looked like it belonged upon the neck of a fair and noble princess, into which the radiant beauty could then place the photo of the man who’d stollen her innocent heart. Nadine wasn’t actually a princess and Salvatore all but gagged at the idea of a picture of his face, mutated or not, being put somewhere for anyone to see, however the necklace was far too perfect for the hooded man to possibly turn it down.

“So what do you think? Will something like this do?” The taller woman asks, curiously. “I could continue looking if that isn’t quite what you’re after, however if that is the case, then I would like to politely request that you come back and look at them tomorrow. It's already so late and I’d have to have the rest of my collection fetched from the vault downstairs.”

“N-no no… th-that’s alright… this i-is perfect… thank y-you… Alcina… this w-was very k-kind of you to do… f-for me” Salvatore says, carefully tucking the glittering necklace into the bag Donna had placed the nightgown in.

“Don’t fret about it too much, I only did it because I had a bit of time to spare prior to going to bed, and you happened to catch me in a good mood. That’s it” Alcina states firmly, though something in the back of Salvatore’s head can’t help but take the taller woman’s words with a grain of salt, feeling as though there was more to Alcina’s sudden generosity than just pure coincidence. “Besides, who knows what gaudy thing you’d have shown up with had you not made the surprisingly wise decision to invoke Donna’s and my vastly superior knowledge of the feminine experience. I don’t even want to think of what tacky little trinket you’d have tried to gift her. Why the thought of that alone is enough to make me want to run for the hills, how on earth do you think your poor little gift would have felt? I’d have had to murder you on the spot if I found out you tried to pass some disgusting pile of garbage off as an appropriate gift. In fact, if I didn’t know that Donna was working on a more fitting dress for her already, I’d have half a mind to skin you alive for only having a flimsy nightgown to take back with you, but I doubt any of the dresses I have, that would be appropriate to wear with that kind of necklace anyways, would come close to fitting her, and I really do want to start making room for some newer, more exciting pieces. So, with all that in mind, count your blessings that the stars have aligned in your favor tonight, dear brother, because I won’t be doing this for you again… unless, you’d be willing to do me a few favors in exchange for some of the other pieces of my collection, that is.”

Aaaaaaaaaaand there’s the Alcina that Salvatore knows and secretly likes. In vehement denial that she feels anything positive for her 3 siblings and also actively trying to get someone else to do her dirty work for her. It's certainly not how the hooded man prefers to operate, but he supposes that if Alcina can somehow convince everyone around her to do all of her work for her, why wouldn’t she take advantage of that as much as possible?

“I-I think that’s e-enough… for t-tonight actually… maybe i-if I decide I’d l-like to get her s-something else… I’ll c-consider that offer y-you brought up” Salvatore says, bowing politely to his sister as he makes his desire to leave obvious.

Thankfully, Alcina seems more than happy to send her older brother on his way, calling Anastasia to come lead Salvatore back to the front door so he could finally begin making his way home.

“Th-thank you again… Alcina… I really a-appreciate this… an-and I'm sure Nadine w-will love the gift t-too” Salvatore says just as he’s about to bid Alcina goodnight and begin following the young servant girl.

“Yes, yes, you’re very grateful of my wondrous kindness to you, I know, you’ve made that fact more than clear already, brother” the taller woman says with an only mildly annoyed roll of her eyes as she stands just outside the door to her chambers. “Just make sure you don’t waste the opportunity my graciousness has afforded you, do you understand?”

Salvatore stiffens nervously as Alcina shoots him a pointed look that screams ��don’t fuck this up or I’ll fuck you up’, a threat which the hooded man knows she’ll make good on, should Salvatore make it necessary for her to do so. Salvatore wasn’t sure how Alcina had picked up on the nature of his budding affections for Nadine so quickly, or how she seemed to instinctively know what he was planning despite having never asked directly, but clearly she’d noticed something and was now in the process of making the matter of whether Salvatore successfully courted his gift her business.

Heavens above have mercy upon whomever is unlucky enough to have their problematic situation noticed and meddled with by Alcina Dimitrescu.

“Y-yes… I u-understand… an-and I’ll be s-sure not to w-waste... waste the g-golden opportunity you’ve g-given me… OH! An-and Donna w-wants her mannequins b-back... too… sh-she wanted m-me to tell y-you” Salvatore replies, his anxiety only mildly calmed when Alcina makes a face at the mention of Donna’s yet-to-be-returned-still mannequins.

“Oh for goodness sakes, I always forgot about those stupid things. Anastasia?”

“Yes, Mistress?” The young servant dutifully answers.

“Please make a note to remind me to have Heisenberg come by so he can collect and return the manequins Donna leant me while I was commissioning some dresses from her earlier this month. That foul-mouthed mutt owes me a favor, and so if all goes the way I’d like I’ll be making this his problem in the morning” Alcina says devilishly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Of course, Lady Dimitrescu, I’ll be sure to remind you of that first thing tomorrow morning” Anastasia replies warmly, though her amicable grin is quickly replaced by a flush and a girlish giggle when Alcina waves and turns on her heel, swaying her hips in an obvious fashion before bending down to enter through the door of her chambers.

Salvatore passed exceptionally confused glances back and forth between his sister and the young servant standing in front of him, totally clueless as to what just unfolded a moment ago as a feeling of disgust, the kind you get when you see something you wish you hadn’t, began to curl in the pit of his stomach. Whatever it was that was going on in the Dimitrescu house, and more importantly with their new servant girl, it was clearly none of Salvatore’s business. Not that he’d wanted it to be in the first place.

Salvatore had enough problems to deal with regarding his own gift, he didn’t have time to worry about whether or not Alcina was already making moves on hers.

“Have a safe journey home, and do make sure to stop by with Nadine if things turn out well between the two of you. Based on how today played out, it would seem as though things are about to get a lot more interesting around here… and a lot more fun too. Goodnight, Dear Brother” is all Alcina says before gently closing the door to her chambers, effectively ending their conversation without so much as a single word from Salvatore, not that he minded being handed the chance to finally get out of here, especially after… whatever the hell that exchange between Alcina and Anastasia was.

Best not to think too hard about it, probably, especially when there was another woman back at the reservoir who was much more deserving of Salvatore’s lustful and impure musings.

“Uuum… the front door is this way… Lord Moreau,” Anastasia says suddenly, her face still dark from embarrassment, though whether it was from her earlier treatment of him before she learned he was another Lord and not just some random man from the village, or from… that thing he just saw that he doesn’t feel like thinking about anymore, the hooded man couldn’t tell.

Nor did he particularly care to find out.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Feeling Special

Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

Warning: fluff, pg-13

A/N: commission for @marvels-biggest-ho​

Summary:  You show up to help Mirio terrorize Class -1A during training and your long time crush, Tamaki, is there.

The first year training gym had an air of playful tension as you walked in. Mr. Aizawa thought it would do the younger students some good to have an older student drop in and show them the ropes but you had a feeling your quirk was the real reason the teacher wanted you around. Your quirk was Acquire ; the ability to gain another person's quirk for a limited amount of time, depending on how long you touched them. They would still have their quirk but you were able to use it as well - it worked out most times but you usually avoided touching someone with a more complicated quirk. There was one time you accidentally touched Mirio Togata and ended up falling a floor below your dorm. Luckily, you only came into contact with him for a few seconds. Usually you wore gloves but as you walked into the large training gymnasium, your hands were bare.

“Oh, look who's here!” 

The greeting came from Nejire Hado and you smiled, noticing the two other members of the  Big Three. The trio stood in front of class 1-A. You eyed the slouched over Tamaki Amajiki; he glanced at you for a split second before turning away nervously. Smiling, you nodded to Mirio. 

“Mr. Awzia sent for me,” you explained, turning to the group. “He said something about showing you kids a good time.”

“That’s what I was about to do,” Mirio gleamed, hands folded against his chest. “I challenged them all to a fight.”

You laughed, sneaking a peek at Tamaki. “Amajiki, will you be joining the fight?”

The young man seized up, shaking his head no without looking at you. “Fair enough, we don’t want to rough the kids up too much. We all know you’re the strongest here.”

Mirio grinned at you, giving a little wink as he focused on the first years. You half listened as he went on about kicking their asses, eyes zeroing on Tamaki, who was making his way to the sidelines. He looked so cute in the UA jumpsuit, his ears poking out from his hair; it seemed obvious to everyone but him that you adored the soon to be pro-hero. You had been in the same class as the Big Three since year one, made friends right away with Mirio and his best friend, the quiet Tamaki. The nervous, socially awkward boy - who you had developed feelings for over time. 

“Y/N.” Mirio was calling out to you, as he rushed towards Class -1-A, a carefree glance plastered on his face. “You joining or not?”

“Hell yes,” you shouted back, rushing towards your friend. Watching as Mirio went head to head with the boy he called Problem Child, you wanted to throw some of the younger students off guard. Jogging over to the group, who were distracted by Mirio, you touched the shoulder of a girl with horns and pink skin. 

“He’s going to be the number one hero one day,” you boasted. She jumped back just as Mirio disappeared and reappeared behind the group. You smiled when the girl used her quirk to throw corrosive liquid, acid, in your direction. Mimicking her moves, her face drew up in horror. 

“You stole my quirk!”

The students that weren’t fighting Mirio off, turned to you in horror. Holding your palm out, acid flew up and you grinned. “I’d never steal someone’s quirk but I can acquire it for a bit. Of course, you still have access to your quirk but so do I….at least for a little bit or until I touch someone else.”

The girl relaxed and scratched the back of her head. “Sorry, I freaked for a second.”

“Do me next!”

A slender blond boy stepped up, an odd looking belt around his navel. “Let’s see if you can control my quirk.”

He winked at you and you looked to Mirio; he was way too busy wrecking students left to right. Figuring he had it, you shrugged and beckoned the boy over, he strutted over to you and posed. Laughing, you touched his shoulder for a few seconds. Feeling a wave of energy wash over your body, you looked over your shoulder to where Tamaki stood. He wasn’t staring at the wall as per usual, instead he was focused on you. 

Unable to control the butterflies in your stomach, your body tensed up and before you could regain control, a sparkly laser beam shot from your navel. The sudden jolts and power sent you flying backwards, thrusting you into the air. You shouted in pain as your body flew to the ground, but when you expected the pain of the concrete floor to hit you, it didn’t. Instead, two large tentacles wrapped around your waist, your body collapsing against someone as they slammed against the wall, sliding down to the ground with you in their embrace.

Out of breath, you laid still for a minute, trying to catch your breath. That kid’s quirk was powerful and it was painful too, you definitely felt bad for him. Breath slowing down to a normal state, you felt the tentacles retract, replaced by a strong pair of arms.

“Are - are you okay?”

A sweet whisper danced against your ears and you realized in a heartbeat, who had caught you; sweet, quiet Tamaki. His body was warm against yours and you could feel the heat rising from your toes. 

“I feel dizzy, I might puke,” you admitted, sitting up. His knees were bent up and your body was right up against his chest. Embarrassed, you crawled off him, He stumbled to his feet, turning to face the wall.

“I -  sorry…” Tamaki stammered over his words and you quickly got up, forgetting about being nauseous. His head moved forward but before his forehead could touch the wall, your hand slipped right in between. His eyes widened at the feel of your palm against his forehead and you smiled at him. 

“Don’t hurt your head, Tamaki. It’s too cute.”

A burst of bravery flashed across his face as he looked at you but before he could say a word, your body gave out.

….

The room was quiet as your eyes fluttered open; you were in your dorm, in bed. Feeling better, you sat up and saw Tamaki sleeping on the floor. Heat slapped your face as you realized someone of the opposite sex was in your room. Looking to the clock on the wall, you saw that it was past midnight - okay, that definitely wasn’t allowed. Unable to move, you studied the young man’s face and smiled at the way his indigo colored hair swept over his forehead. 

He was a snorer but it was endearing. 

Noticing he had no blanket, just a pillow tucked under his head, you reached over for an extra one at the end of the bed and was surprised to see tentacles forming from your hands. Startled, you held back a shout, remembering that you had touched Tamaki earlier. 

“This is crazy,” you whispered, chuckling as you grabbed the blanket and reached over to cover Tamaki without having to leave the bed. The tentacles weren’t as long as his but they were a little hard to control. It was evident when you accidentally smacked Tamaki in the face as you pulled away; holding your breath, you watched as he stirred but didn’t wake. Slowly, you crept off the bed and moved around him to get to the full length mirror next to the closet. 

When you saw yourself, you nearly died of laughter - you looked ridiculous and not as intimidating as Tamaki when he was in this form. He looked badass in his hero suit, like a knight in shining armor - you on the other hand, looked like a sea creature. 

“Oh, god.”

A low painful voice came from behind you, it was Tamaki, standing near your bed. He was still wearing the UA training suit, as were you. He looked embarrassed and upset as he rushed to the door but you were faster, looping a tentacle around his waist. Using all your strength, you held him in place as his hand came over the doorknob.

“Please don’t leave me,” you begged. “I don’t know how long your quirk will last, I could just go touch someone else but everyone’s asleep.”

You relaxed, letting him go when his hand fell from the doorknob. “I - I carried you to the nurses office and then to your room. I -I held you for too long, I don’t know when my quirk will leave you.”

He continued to face the door but didn’t leave. Walking over to him, you felt a strike of bravery - you had adored him for years now, watched him with soft eyes and love in your heart. It bloomed over the years, when others would not take the chance to get to know him.  Scolded him for looking down on himself and cheered the loudest in his corner, even though you never thought you would have a chance with him. It didn’t matter, being in his corner was enough but now as he stood in your room, you wanted more.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with my quirk,” he muttered miserably.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped up to him. His back was hunched over but his entire body hardened when you wrapped both tentacles around his waist, pressing your face into the fabric of his uniform. You could feel his nerves rattling as you took a deep  breath.

“I’m glad I was given a chance to experience the power you have, Tamaki,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side. Your cheek felt warm against his back as you stared at the mirror, watching his reflection carefully. His face was surprisingly calm, opposed to the tension you felt in the rest of his body. 

“W-why?”

The question made you smile and you held him tighter. “It makes me feel closer to you, Tamaki and...and that’s all I ever wanted. Are you that oblivious?”

Terrified of his reaction, you looked away from the mirror and buried your face into his face, clinging to him. Tentacles trembled, waiting for his response to your confession. What if he did not feel the same way? He never showed interest, why would you think he would have feelings for you? You were questioning the moment, wishing it was a fever dream from using too many quirks in one day.

Yes, that’s it, you thought, holding back the tears. He’s not really here, this is a dream and when you wake up, you will be back with Mirio. Back at the gym, kicking 1-A’s collective butt. 

Yeah, that’s it. 

“Mirio- he...he’s always making comments,” Tamaki whispered, forehead against the door.  “Stupid little comments that I know could never be true, because why - why would you like someone like me.”

Your head pulled away from his back and you stared at the back of his head, focused on the nape of his neck. “Because, you’re special, Tamaki. I wish you could see what Mirio and I see, what everyone sees. You’re amazing and I have always wished to be someone you could look in the eye. I want you to look me in the eye, so I can feel special too.”

Tears fell from your face as the tentacles retracted, forming back into your own arms. They started to fall from Tamaki’s waist as he carefully turned around, face hung low. Your heart pounded as he stood straight and finally, after so long, looked you in the eyes. His face was nervous but soft, fingers trembling as they reached for yours. His skin warm and soft as he held your hand, squeezing his palm against yours. His usually frown turned into a quiet smile and you knew then, that you were in love.

“You’re special to me,” he whispered and you beamed, throwing your arms around his neck. Without hesitation, he pulled you close and embraced you. His chin rested on your shoulders as you kissed him gently on the cheek. His face turned red so quickly it made you laugh. Kissing him again, you moved away and touched the side of his face.

“Will you stay with me a bit longer?”

Leaning into your hand, he nodded. “Okay.”

His heart leaped as you led him to the bed, motioning for him to lay down first. He did and watched as you took the space up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder as he pulled your blanket over the two of you. You inhaled deeply, placing your hand on his chest, smiling when he cupped it with his own. The room was quiet as the two of you laid together, the feeling in the air was something new and sweet, and as your eyes began to grow heavy, you said his name.

“Y-Yeah?”

Dipping your head back, you stared up at him. “How did you get into my dorm after hours? I’m sure the administration wouldn’t have allowed it.”

Tamaki’s eyebrows furrowed and he moved his hand over his face. “Mirio and Nejire helped me sneak in.”

Laughing, you drew his hand from his face and grinned. “My sweet, sneaky Tamaki.”

He chuckled nervously and when his eyes met yours, soft and relaxed, you knew what it felt like to feel special.

[queerbrujas]

then it vanished away from my hands (part three)

pairing: nate sewell x eva navarro rating: T word count: 4k (10.1k total so far) warnings: angst (with no happy ending, though there’s a lot of comfort in this chapter). discussions about mortality and loss of agency. murphy trauma and flashbacks.

After discovering the reason why she can't turn, Eva tries (and fails) to come to terms with it.

part one | part two | read on ao3

this fic was originally meant to have three parts, but uh, that didn’t happen. current plan is to have it be four or five, depending on how the writing goes.

—

part three: my sense of self I lost somewhere

Eva’s eyes squeeze shut.

She’s all out of tears.

How long has she been sitting here?

This is—this is not working.

She can't be alone right now.

She can't be here right now, in this place that was once home to her and where there is nothing left that is familiar or comforting. Nothing but void, a shell filled with what’s left of the covered furniture she couldn’t get rid of.

The only thing here is—

is—

fuck.

The only thing here that seems alive and vivid is the image playing behind her eyelids of the apartment flooded with bright red smoke, the sounds of crashing and breaking, of Rebecca telling her to run, of Nate—

And a cold, cold voice that rings in her head, louder than every other sound.

She’s back outside in the rain. It soaks her to the bone, makes her shiver.

You are rather special, after all, Detective Navarro.

Why, why the hell did she think of coming here, of all places?

I do so prefer the quiet ones.

There isn’t enough air, she’s not getting enough air. She tries to gasp for it, to take deep breaths, but it’s not enough. When she opens her eyes the white walls of the apartment are closing in and her vision is blurred, hazy (not smoke, it’s not smoke, it’s not). A trapped scream tries to fight its way up her throat.

She wants to let it out. Scream. Thrash.

Tear her skin apart and climb out of her body.

This is not working.

This is not working—this won’t work.

She’s not going to be able to make it out of here on her own. Not out of the apartment, not off of the goddamn floor.

The sudden moment of clarity, tenuous and brittle as it is, spurs her into action.

Her phone. She pulls her phone out of the pocket of her jacket: her hands are still shaking, and it takes her at least three attempts to get hold of it. Once she has it, it slips between her fingers and clatters to the floor.

She flinches at the noise. She’s going to start sobbing again.

She flexes her fingers. Breathe. Breathe.

Eventually, she manages it.

For just a split second, she considers calling, then decides against it. That won’t do. She doesn’t trust herself to speak without bursting into tears again.

I'm at my old apartment. Can you come over?, she writes, hits send. Then a second text: Please.

The reply comes before she’s had time to lock her phone again: there in 2 seconds.

She loses track of time again after that, closes her eyes and would not be able to say, later, how long she spent like this. What is left of her rational brain tells her not more than a few minutes can have passed before Farah is already there in a whirlwind.

Alarm is evident in the way her eyes shoot wide open as soon as she sees her, in the way she's kneeling down by Eva's side faster than her (human, human) eyes can register.

“Hey, hey.” The words tumble out of her quickly, blurring together. “Eva, what happened?”

Farah has seen her cry before, she’s seen her desperate and distressed and upset, but she’s never seen her like this.

She examines her, the way she’s sitting on the floor with her knees held to her chest, the sorry state of her—clearly looking for signs of physical injury. When she seems satisfied she’s found none, she takes a breath: the alarm fades, but the concern deepens.

“What’s wrong? Did something—” Farah interrupts herself, purses her lips and waits for Eva to answer.

Eva’s throat feels raw; her thoughts scrambled, paper-thin. Connecting them, stringing them into something so complicated as language seems a monumental, almost impossible task. Just the thought of it makes her throat start to close up again.

She shakes her head. “Don't want to talk about it.” Speaking hurts, physically—even more than she thought it would.

Farah nods, as though having been expecting it.

She knows her well, after all.

They all do.

Farah reaches out, slowly, and lets her hand hover just over Eva’s knee. She doesn't touch her, knows better than to touch her, but it's close enough that Eva feels the warmth through her clothes.

“Do you want me to just sit here with you for a while? We don't have to go back home yet.”

Eva barely manages to choke back a dry sob at the mention of home, but unexpected relief washes over her all the same. Relief and gratefulness to Farah for putting into words what she certainly wouldn't have been able to think of. Not now.

She gives a quick nod. “Please,” she croaks.

Farah attempts a smile that manages to be warm despite the evident strain in it. She moves then, with a grace that Eva has envied before and which makes something in her chest constrict now, to settle more comfortably on the floor, legs crossed under her, facing Eva.

“Then we’re not going anywhere until you say so,” she says.

Soothing. Calming. Farah always knows how to be comforting.

“Thank you,” Eva sighs. Farah hums her assent.

With her here, real and solid in front of Eva, the red smoke and the crashing sounds and the voices seem to fade little by little into what they are: a distant memory, years old by now. Not real. Not something that can hurt her now.

(Except it lives under her skin, the consequence of it, the result of it, she’ll never be free of it—

Stop.

Stop, stop, stop.

Stop that thought dead in its tracks.)

A while later, Eva’s breathing still hasn’t gone back to normal. It’s still quick and ragged, shallow.

“Hey,” Farah speaks quietly, a low whisper that barely breaks the silence.

She waits for Eva to open her eyes—when had she closed them? How long has it been?—before speaking again.

“Give me your hands?” She says it as one would a question, extending her own, palms facing up.

Eva hesitates for a second—but only for a second.

The hesitation is instinctive, but the action is conscious. She places her hands in Farah’s, and Farah smiles at her.

With the warmth of the touch she’s reminded of the few times she’s done this before, in other circumstances.

Farah taking her hands and teaching her to dance, despite her initial, half-hearted protests.

Farah dragging her to celebrate her birthday because it was on the same day as hers and of course they needed a celebration; no, sneaking away with Nate to the library did not count, what part of it’s our birthday and we should have a party did she not understand?

Farah helping her stand up after a bad injury she’d sustained during a mission, the fear in her eyes eclipsed by the quick resolve to get her away.

She’s reminded of this, of all this. Of Farah’s liveliness and warmth but also of the way she always seems to understand how she feels, long before words are spoken.

Eva doesn’t quite manage to return Farah’s smile, but her lips twitch a little.

“Good,” Farah says. Her thumbs rub circles on the palms of Eva’s hands, and something soft in her eyes seems to make them glow golden, brighter than their usual amber. Something soft and sad and old, because as young as Farah seems, Eva is all too acutely aware (especially now, especially here, with a sting that doesn’t seem to go away) that she is still close to three times her age.

“Breathe with me?” Farah asks, before Eva’s thoughts can spiral too far in that direction.

Eva nods.

Farah breathes. Eva breathes.

It’s a deeper breath than any she’s taken since she got here.

They spend a while like this, until exhaustion finally settles in, weary and bone-deep. Until she’s staying here out of pure stubbornness, and when Farah quietly asks “home?” Eva does nothing but squeeze her hand and nod.

—

She tries then, she tries to adjust to the new information.

To move forward.

It’s what she’s always done. It’s the only thing that can be done.

She lets the rest of Unit Bravo know about the results (thinks for half a second about not saying anything, but she could never hide anything like this from them) and then refuses to discuss them at all.

It is what it is. If there is nothing that can be done to change it—and it has been made very clear to her that there is nothing that can be done, not about this—then there is no point in wasting time and energy thinking about it.

Because if she starts thinking about it, she’s not sure what she will do.

If she starts thinking about it, it’ll be back to the apartment, back to the rain, back to that other warehouse.

And if she starts thinking about it, she’s going to have to think about how all the reasons she had for wanting to turn in the first place are still there. They have not gone anywhere, except that now she has no way to deal with them.

She’s not sure if she feels numb or if she only wishes she did.

She thinks about it, anyway, whenever her gaze falls on the faint, jagged marks on her wrist, paler than the light brown of her skin.

For years she’d almost forget the scar was there, the memories associated with it pushed back to the deep corners of her mind. Now it seems to exert a gravitational pull of its own, drawing her sight to it without her permission.

She thinks about it whenever she remembers—and she remembers it often these days, can’t seem to pull the thought from her mind—that the blood in her veins is not her own. The whole of her body has been made into a foreign object; unrecognizable, enactor of violence upon itself.

The nightmares are worse than they’ve ever been.

—

It takes three days for Nate to bring it up: he’d been waiting for her to do it first.

He does it as gently as ever, as softly as ever. With a kiss to her forehead and hands seeking her skin, brushing down her arms. Perhaps hoping his touch would soothe the sting.

He seems almost apologetic, as though she could break at any moment.

Who’s to say she won’t?

“Joonam,” he whispers. “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?”

(Joonam, he calls her.

He calls her many things in many different languages, but this is the one he always, always comes back to.

Mi vida, she calls him.

Not as often as he does—she was never one for pet names—but often enough.

The thought forms before she can crush it: it seems almost cruel, now, that they’ve dug so deep to call each other my life when he will outlive her by an infinite amount.)

And the look in his eyes makes her want to cry all over again. He’s pleading with her, keeping the emotion from his voice but it’s clear in the way he looks at her.

Fuck, this won’t work.

She can’t keep doing this. She can’t do what she always does, not with this.

Because being with Nate has never been easy.

It has been many things—it has been love and passion and comfort and truth, but it has never been easy or painless. It has never been natural or effortless or uncomplicated.

They don’t fit together like that.

What it has been is a choice, constant and conscious. A choice to go against her instincts—her instincts that tell her to hide, to never stop moving, to raze what’s left and never look back—and open herself up in ways that leave her raw and exposed but so vibrantly, painfully alive.

(A choice that she’d been willing to make for the rest of eternity, even if it never got easier.

A choice that he makes for her, too.)

Poke around in the wound to dig the bullet out.

Her instincts tell her to pull back, and there are words on the tip of her tongue that she swallows down.

Slowly, she takes one of his hands in hers, brings it to her mouth to brush a delicate kiss against his knuckles.

“I will,” she says, eyes closed. If she opens them the words might not come out. “We’ll talk about it, I promise. Just—give me a little time, please. Just a little time.”

Nate breathes out a sigh that sounds like relief drowned in concern.

“Of course,” he says. “Anything you need.”

—

The water in the bathtub has cooled around them; the steam dissipated long ago.

Even in the cooling air, they have not moved in a while: Eva leans back against Nate’s chest with her eyes closed, his arms wrapped loosely around her as he presses sweet, barely-there kisses to the birthmarks on her shoulders. He follows paths he has mapped and memorized countless times before, ones that feel familiar on her skin.

Ones that should be soothing.

As slowly as ever, Nate lets his kisses trail up the side of her neck. They are soft, featherlight; his lips ghost over the multiple marks that have accumulated there before lavishing her with an attention that makes her shiver.

For the longest time, this was something he would not allow himself.

For the longest time, he would shy away from Eva’s neck as though burnt, and the first time he let her see the fear in his eyes as his fingertips traced the line of her throat is a moment that remains imprinted on her mind.

(She took his hand and pressed it more firmly against the side of her neck, against the beating pulse there. Gentle, almost as gentle as he always was with her—and always offering him the choice to draw back. He almost stopped breathing, but his eyes never left hers, and that single instant stretched out into moments, into something she still struggles to name.)

A lifetime seems to have passed since then.

He does not shy away from it now. Not now.

“I wish we could stay like this,” Eva murmurs.

Just this, right here.

A single moment, endless. One where nothing else matters or even exists. One where the thoughts that have been plaguing her have no power or importance.

“We can,” Nate whispers in return. His breath is warm, still close to her skin, and he follows it with another kiss directly over her pulse. “As long as you want to.”

She lets out a sigh. It would be so easy.

God, so easy.

So easy it’s terrifying.

The temptation to never talk about it again hasn’t gone away.

But thoughts become corrosive. They seep into every last piece of her sanity that she’s tried to keep safe. Into every dream and every waking moment until nothing, nothing remains untainted.

The way she flinches when she sees the scar, when she barely paid attention to it before. The way she looks at herself in the mirror and finds flaws she hadn’t noticed, the way she sometimes wants nothing more than to open her skin and drain out the blood to get it all out. Maybe that would help.

No, it would not be that easy.

“Not that long,” she forces herself to say. The words are always stuck in her throat, and they will not come out on their own. “Not forever.”

Nate’s kisses stop, and the briefest moment of tension tightens his embrace—something Eva might not have noticed if she didn’t know him like she does. But he speaks into the crook of her neck, tenderness the only thing in the softness of his voice. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

It has only been a few days since he’d mentioned it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to talk about it,” Eva admits. “But I have to stop acting like it’s something we don’t have to talk about.”

She sighs again, sinking further against him. Her own hands come to rest on his arms, wrapping them more tightly around her. “I just don’t know what to do. Where do we go from here?”

Nate hums, a soft sound she’s come to recognize as a contradictory mix of subtle exasperation and patience, tempered by love and concern. She’s been on the receiving end of it more than a few times. “We’ll get to that part. Let’s take it one thing at a time.”

Unspoken: For now, just tell me how you feel.

Also unspoken (because it has been spoken too many times): You don’t have to solve everything by yourself. You don’t have to solve everything right away.

He knows her too well.

It makes her want to cry, that he knows her this well.

“I just never thought about this.” Didn’t think it wouldn’t work. “I didn’t even consider it.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Small. So fucking defeated.

Because if she can’t do anything—

“None of us did,” Nate says, and that cuts deep, too.

He does not have defeat in his voice like she does, but the barely concealed pain is enough to make her eyes sting.

The fact that he’s trying to conceal it at all.

For her sake.

Dammit, Nate.

Because if she can’t do anything, then what’s left?

(“Nate, I don't get to have a normal life.” She’d been trying not to raise her voice, to rein in the tremor in her words. Trying, and failing. “Not with this blood, not with these scars. Not with everything that's happened to me already. Do you think anyone can be normal after that?”

One of the many times they’d argued about this. He had tried, wanted to show her value in humanity that she could never see.

He’d turn back, he’d choose to be human, to be mortal, if only he could.

“Even if I could have that,” she’d added, more quietly. “I don’t want it. If this all went away, what do you think would be left of me?”)

She shifts in his arms, turns around until she can face him.

“I wanted this, Nate.” She lifts a hand to close her fingers around the pendant that hangs from her neck, the one she never takes off, the one he gave her. She closes them so tightly her nails dig into her palm. “I wanted us, like this, forever. I wanted it so much I don’t know how to be anything else anymore. Nothing else makes sense even if I try.”

Nate covers her hand with his own, both closed around the pendant. He hesitates before speaking, examining her with eyes that betray the depth of feeling in them, but eventually, he does. “I know nothing can dull the pain of having the choice taken from you,” he says, careful, too careful. He’s been through this. “I know that. I would give everything I have to spare you that hurt.”

“But I’m—” A soft breath escapes his lips, something that is not intentional, something that is far less controlled. “I’m not going anywhere. I will make that promise a thousand times over. It will still be… it can still be forever, for you. You still have us. You still have me.”

“And you’ll just watch? You’ll watch me get older, weaker, god knows what else? You’ll be okay with that? With watching me die?”

The questions leave her mouth like bullets, one after the other.

Harsh. Too raw. The things neither of them wants to hear.

She’s the one panicking, now.

She’s said this before.

And Nate flinches, flinches at the bluntness of it—she wants to take it back at that, even when she knows it has to be said—but it does not make his voice waver when he speaks. “I love you,” he says, as though that answers all her questions. “Nothing can change that. Every second you’ve chosen to give me has been something precious, something I have treasured, and it will continue to be, no matter what.”

One of his hands moves to tangle in the wet locks of her hair. To hold her in place, staring into the depth of his brown eyes, eyes that reflect back the same hurt she feels even if he will not say it.

“Before we talked about this, before you decided to turn, I—I knew I might not have you forever. I didn’t dare to hope I would, didn’t dare to think of it. But loving you is worth any pain that might come from it.”

Her throat constricts, and the emotion in Nate’s voice dulls the edge she’d imparted to her words. Of course Nate would say this. Of course he would think this, would feel this.

He would break himself to keep her.

He would break himself for her, without even a hint of hesitation.

(I won’t do that to you. She’d said that.)

She looks away, blinking to get rid of the tears that prickle at her eyes. She fixes her stare on the edge of the bathtub: gleaming, burnished copper misted over with condensation.

Instead of following that line of thought—she doesn’t trust herself to—she grasps at something else. Something that stabs with equal force at her chest.

It sounds like someone else speaking when she says, “I don’t want to be less than you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the way he frowns.

“Being human doesn't make you less, Eva.” Nate is resolute, his voice firm even in its warmth, echoes of a recurring argument neither of them had ever won.

“But it does,” she counters, voice cracking and desperate, turning her face back to meet his eyes. “Don’t you see it? It does, and it will always feel that way. I already have to try so hard just to keep up. What happens when I can’t anymore? What happens when my body gives up, when I'm too slow, too weak to go on missions?”

Why won’t he see it?

She has tried. Tried to make up for her lack of abilities, for her humanity. She has tried to attenuate it, to make sure it does not become a burden.

She has learned combat from Morgan and Adam, spent hours upon hours in the training room with them until she can barely stand, until Adam smiles at her after a well-placed hit, until Morgan throws a towel for her to catch and there’s nothing but pride in the look she gives her.

She has studied the supernatural world in every way she can; submerged herself in it, let it coat every cell of her body and every neuron in her brain.

It is what she breathes.

And she’s been forced out of it.

“That still wouldn’t make you less, nothing could.” The affection, the love in his voice burns. “There is so much more to you than what you can do.”

She shakes her head.

“I swore I wouldn’t be a burden to this team. And you know how I am, Nate, I couldn’t bear—I don’t want to get left behind. And I will. You’ll keep on being who you are and I… won’t.”

The tears aren’t pricking at her eyes anymore. They are falling.

The words aren’t stuck in her throat anymore.

“Everything I told you I didn’t want, all of it, that’s going to happen and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I have this thing inside me that’s making it all happen and my body isn’t mine anymore. I don’t get a say in any of it.”

She leans forward to rest her head on his shoulder, seeking the comfort of his touch even when it won’t, it can’t be enough. Not for this.

She is instantly enveloped in his arms, drawing her closer against him.

“I’m sorry, mi vida,” she whispers against his skin. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he answers, quiet, almost too quiet, into her hair.

And there is a thought.

Because if there is nothing she can do—

But this is one she refuses to even entertain. To acknowledge.

I won’t do that to you.

She’d said that.