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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Three for One 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.

You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.

You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.

While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.

You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.

"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.

He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.

"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"

"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.

"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."

"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"

"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.

You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.

"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."

"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.

"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"

He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.

You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.

You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.

You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.

"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.

"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.

He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.

"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."

You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.

What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.

Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.

You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.

You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.

“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”

“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”

You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.

“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”

“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”

He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”

His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.

“How old is she?” You ask.

“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”

“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”

You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.

“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”

You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.

“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”

“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”

“Is it faster?”

“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”

You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.

“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.

“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”

“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”

You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”

“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”

“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.

“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”

He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”

“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”

You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.

“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”

“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”

“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”

Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.

“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.

“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”

Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”

“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”

“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.

“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.

“Next week,” the first man growls.

“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”

Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.

“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.

“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.

“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”

“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”

“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”

“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”

“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”

“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.

“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”

“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”

“Two weeks?” He puffs.

“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”

“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.

“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”

“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.

“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”

“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”

“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!

“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”

He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.

“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”

“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”

You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.

“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.

“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”

He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months

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Gold Dust

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Public use of an app based sex toy, smut. Word count: ~1.8k

Summary: Aemond's office Christmas party is the last thing either of them want to attend, however, he comes up with an idea to make it fun for both of them.

Author's note: Can be read as an addition of this series, but also works as a standalone. Day seven of the Smuffmas prompts - "sharing a drink and toys". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Aemond edit in first picture is by @kyloremus.

It’s been six blissful months since her and Aemond moved in together. Having decided his own lofty high rise flat no longer felt like home - in truth, it never had - he’d offered a swap with Mysaria, and she’d leapt at the offer.

Aemond’s flat was paid for outright, so there’d be no expenses incurred on her part, beyond standard bills and utilities. She suited the space, adding a touch of glamour to the modern matte black and chrome surroundings. Her jaw had dropped when he’d handed her the deeds, his grandfather’s law firm already having handled the necessary paperwork and transfer of ownership. Aemond didn’t want rent, he simply wanted to live with the woman he loved. The simple act of Mysaria giving them a space to be by themselves was payment enough in his mind.

The security of the smaller, more homely feeling flat which she now shared with him had been trickier to negotiate. The landlord had snubbed Aemond’s initial offer to buy it from him, insisting he’d make more in rental payments from it than he would if he sold it. Some moderate pressure applied by the legal team of Otto Hightower, and an offer well above its current market value had soon seen to that, so now they were homeowners of a place that was theirs.

Mysaria’s old room had been turned into a home office, a space where either her or Aemond could work from home if and when they wanted to, aside from that they had made no further changes. The cosy little space was where they had shared their fondest memories, and every aspect of their relationship was woven into it.

She shrugs off her coat, hanging it up by the front door, and sighs in relief as the warmth of the central heating prickles her skin. She stoops to ruffle Vhagar behind the ears, a reward for the elderly doberman having reluctantly left her bed to greet her, before walking through to the living room. The blankets on the sofa are exactly as she’d left them the previous evening, and she eagerly retreats back into her nest, snatching up the TV remote from the coffee table.

“Good day?” Aemond asks, propping himself against the door frame as he emerges from the home office, the faintest smirk of amusement playing upon his lips as he looks at her.

She regards him with a warm smile, her features softening instantly despite how tired and irritated she feels. “Horrid, thanks for asking. Do we have any wine left?”

“There’ll be wine at the party, I expect,” he says, moving to sit next to her and brushing a chaste kiss against her temple.

“What?”

He narrows his eye at her, drawing back to look at her carefully. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

She groans as realisation dawns upon her. “Shit, your office Christmas party. Do we really have to go?”

He sighs, nodding and interlocks his fingers with hers. “Ordinarily, I’d give it a miss, you know I loathe parties, but my grandfather has called in more than a few favours for me this year. I owe him this.”

An hour later, and she steps out of the bedroom, hair and make-up finished and a slinky silk dress hugging her curves.

“Beautful,” Aemond breathes quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

She smiles bashfully, feeling her skin heat up beneath the weight of his compliment as he pulls away, and watches with curiosity as he moves past her to rummage around on the top shelf of their wardrobe.

“What are you doing?”

“Your outfit’s missing something,” he tells her, pulling down the Lovehoney box, a glint in his eye as he turns to her.

“Aemond, no!”

The app controlled egg vibrator had been a drunken purchase on her behalf, that she’d regretted the moment it had arrived. Upon discovering it, Aemond’s reaction had been much more enthusiastic, kneeling between her spread legs and watching in fascination as she’d whimpered and writhed as he’d played with the settings using the app on his phone.

It had been fun at the time, but she’d considered it impractical and tucked it away, hoping he’d forgotten about it. It’s clear now that he hasn’t.

“Oh come now, darling, it’ll make the evening much more fun for both of us. Consider it an early Christmas gift to me.”

It doesn’t take much persuading, and soon she is sitting in the back of a black cab next to him, her coat pulled tight around her against the chilly December air, made colder still by a distinct lack of knickers, which Aemond had insisted she leave behind.

She is acutely aware of the feeling of the egg enveloped snugly inside of her, its presence, though discreet, making her feel as though she brandishes a scarlet letter that their taxi driver must be aware of.

“No!” She mouths desperately at Aemond as he pulls his phone from his pocket, thumb hovering over the app.

He flashes her the briefest of grins, tapping once on the screen. A mild singular buzz reverberates through her, causing her to clasp a hand over her mouth to muffle her squeal. Aemond eyes her carefully, poking at the inside of his cheek with his tongue before pocketing his phone once more.

Tonight was going to be interesting.

They step into the office, already bustling with people, chatter and light classical music fill the opulent space which is decked out in rich, mahogany furnishings and forest green upholstery, ever the indication that the Hightowers come from old money.

“There they are!” Aegon greets them loudly with a grin, arms spread and half drunk flutes of champagne clutched by the stem between each of his fingers. His shoulder length blonde hair is tousled, and his white shirt is open by three buttons.

“How long have you been here?” She asks, taking in his bedraggled appearance.

“‘Bout twenty minutes,” he slurs around a mouthful of vol-au-vent.

Otto steps up behind him, placing a ring clad hand upon his shoulder. “I tell you where you might like it, Aegon, on the terrace; outside.”

She watches with amusement as the older man leads him away.

“I’d better give him a hand,” Aemond mutters quietly, the warmth of his palm leaving her lower back as he moves to follow. He nods towards his older sister. “Good to see you, Hel.”

She smiles warmly at Hel leaning in as the two peck each other’s cheeks. “How are you doing?” She asks fondly.

“Starving!” Helaena complains, pulling her sheer turquoise wrap tighter around herself and waving away a tray of canapés that’s being offered around by a member of serving staff. “Not a single vegan option here, everything’s either got salmon in it or is slathered in cream cheese.”

“You could always sneak off to grab something?” She offers sympathetically.

“Aeg said there’s a kebab shop over the road. I might see if he’ll grab me a falafel wrap later. Anyway,” she continues, snatching up two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handing one to her. “How are you?!”

“Yeah, really good!” She grins. “Aemond mentioned we might fly to New York for New Year’s, go and see Daeron. I’ve not met him yet and I– oh!”

She bows her head, biting back the quiet moan that tries to escape her, as the egg inside her vibrates incessantly. Her head snaps up, making eye contact with Aemond, who stands in a corner with his phone out, a sly smile upon his face.

Bastard.

“You alright?” Helaena asks, eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Mhm…just...champagne bubbles…they go right up my nose!” She feigns a laugh, embarrassment making her skin feel hot.

Ever the dutiful girlfriend, she does her rounds of the office, speaking to colleagues and family members alike, though every interaction is thwarted by sudden and persistent vibrations between her legs.

After an hour of polite chit chat with Alicent, Criston, Otto and several other party guests, she leans back against the wall next to Aemond’s office door, needing a breather from socialising, but also feeling lightheaded from the intermittent throbbing in her core.

The door swings slowly open and Aemond steps out, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand.

“Having fun?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmm,” she narrows her eyes, “you clearly are. What’s that you’ve got?”

“Laphroaig,” he tells her, swirling the liquid in his glass. “Thirty six year old The Wall Peat, to be precise. Grandfather would never offer this around to the guests. Lucky for me I know he keeps it stashed in his bottom desk drawer.”

“Lucky indeed,” she purrs up at him.

He grabs her hand, pulling her into his office and closes the door behind them, before backing her up against the desk, until she perches on the edge.

“Let me see,” he whispers, pushing her dress up above her hips.

His free hand applies gentle pressure to her knee, spreading her legs, and she watches the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly, taking in the sight of the arousal that coats her centre.

“Fuck,” he mutters darkly. “The idea of you walking around making innocent small talk while you’re soaked is driving me mad.”

She giggles, clenching around the egg that’s nestled within her as she sees his gaze darken. Aemond pulls out his phone again, changing the setting to a constant vibrate, before setting it down on the desk behind her.

Mewling helplessly, shockwaves of pleasure ripple through her as Aemond’s thumb swipes against her sodden folds, spreading her open to watch intently.

He takes a sip from his glass, and she gasps as he grabs her forcefully by the hair at the back of her head, crushing her lips against his and letting the whisky pass from his mouth to hers. She moans quietly, the intensity of the burn of the liquid that slips down her throat and the throbbing ache between her legs making her feel dizzy.

She is devastatingly close, can feel the pressure building to boiling point, and she whines, pressing her face into the crook of Aemond’s neck, fingertips rumpling the fabric of his black button down shirt as she grasps his biceps for purchase. “Fuck, Aemond, I–”

“It’s alright, I’ve got you, let go,” he coos.

She bites down on the juncture of his neck to muffle her pleasured cry, earning her a startled grunt from Aemond. Her body spasms around the toy, climaxing with a force that makes her toes curl inside of her high heels, before going limp against his chest.

He settles his glass down and strokes her hair before pulling back. His long, dexterous fingers wrap around the cord of egg, and despite how gentle he is as he tugs it free, she still hisses with overstimulation as it leaves her body. The sudden feeling of emptiness is alien to her after having spent most of the evening with it inside of her.

“Can…can we go home now?” She asks tiredly, as he wraps the toy in tissue and deposits it on the desk.

“Hmmm, not just yet,” Aemond tells her, taking her hand and guiding it to palm over the erection that strains against the confines of his suit trousers. “I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

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comicaurora · 8 months

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What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.

#asks #not aurora

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smellrain · 24 days

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𝐧𝐡𝟏𝟑 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭

in which: nico and you had met years ago in a cold rink in canada but then lost touch for several reasons. It's hard, growing and correcting mistakes of your past but you try anyway.

tags: written, angst, hopeful ending, mentions of: depression, injuries, hospitals, doctors, etc. (masterlist)

notes: [5.1k] I have no idea what this is? I woke up, wrote the entire thing and passed out again for 2 hours. Tried polishing it through editing? Yeah. It turned out a lot different than the rest of my stuff so far, so it's scary posting this. Come & tell me if you liked it.

The ice was as harsh as it was unforgiving.

The cold air of the rink has seeped into your bones years ago and the reddend tips of your fingers went numb a while ago, but you were used to it by now. Nothing really mattered when you got like this, too caught up in your head for anyone to reach.

Not even yourself.

You had been home and then suddenly not, your body already knowing what you needed before your mind caught up to it.

The rink wasn’t open, not yet, but you had gotten a key years ago. The owner, David, had been the only one that had looked at you the same back then. There had been a knowing sort of look in his eyes when he had seen you waiting for him at the front door stepps, eyes red.

He had given you a key, because he had seen you for who you were: a girl whose entire life had collapsed around her.

Bronze at fifteen, silver at sixteen, gold forever out of reach.

You could still remember the red pen tucked into your doctor’s coat. The ‘my condolences, but’, the white light, the letter in your hand, the sinking realisation that this was it.

That you were going to be one of the several girls that had pushed their body too far.

The same way you had done everything back then you had followed the instructions of your therapist to the letter. Stretching, compressions, different exercises. Still, there was no full recovery, no chance of ever skating professionally again.

That might be the worst part, still being able to skate but knowing that you will never be able to feel it anymore. That you were cursed to be in this limbo, never letting go of it but never being able to live for it anymore.

The harsh sound of your blade cutting over the fresh ice was as pleasant as it was torture. You wanted more, but you had to settle for this. You had to learn that this was all you were ever going to get.

These select few hours in the early morning, just before your classes started, before you had to start living your life.

You could feel yourself drawing harsh breaths, but it didn’t matter. You had pushed through worse, hunger, hurt and feelings just to stand here for a bit longer. The ringing in your ear accumulated when you thought about all that you had lost, that you could never regain.

Suddenly the heavy door of the entrance fell closed. You slowed down, curious who it might be. The clock in the corner of your vision reflected a red 05:57 back at you. It was too early for it to be anyone aside from David or another person with a key, someone like you.

It was a guy, a bag in his hand and another slung over his shoulder.

You would recognize the equipment anywhere, familiar with it in a distant way. It must be a hockey player that David had picked out out of the hundreds that frequented this place.

For some reason you already didn’t like him. Maybe because unlike you, he had the chance of actually archiving his dreams. Bitterness was an annoying but frecent emotion that stained the back of your mouth.

You wanted. You wanted more than this. You wanted the early morning practices, the ones after school, the rigidous schedule, the heavy monitoring. What were you without all that?

The static in your mind had been interrupted by his arrival but you hardly noticed, more focused on the way he walked down the stairs, casually like he had done so hundreds of times already.

It was almost six, which meant it was time to get off the ice anyways, so you circled a few laps, rotating your wrists and shoulders to feel if anything was off, and then made your way towards the outside of the rink.

“You look pretty,” said the boy from where he was tying his shoelaces up on the benches. “Out on the ice, I mean.”

Something in you hurt at that, as if your heart started pulling at its own strings. It’s been a while since anyone has watched you skate,, since you let someone else watch you. There was a sharp kind of anger rising up in you that it had been him watching you which dissipated as soon as you looked back at him.

It wasn’t his fault. There really was something wrong with you.

You knew your parents didn’t approve of you being here, but they couldn’t look at you anymore when you skated, disappointed that this was how it had ended. Disappointed in you.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice completely scraped raw. You hoped he didn’t notice it.

“I’m Nico,” he said, approaching you. He held out his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves yet but his dark shirt had thumbholes that his thumb peeked through which was weirdly endearing on him.

You looked back up to his face. There was a tired but polite smile plastered on it but you didn’t have the energy to give him one. Instead you simply told him your name and took his hand. Even through his layer of fabric it was warm beneath your icy fingers.

He didn’t flinch at the cold of your hand and instead started genuinely smiling which took you by surprise. People didn’t react to meeting you like this, not anymore.

Then, without saying anything else, he took off his guards and stepped on the ice, skating around to warm up. You watched him for a bit while scraping off the excess ice and putting your skates away.

His skating was differentthan yours; not as delicate. The beauty of it had been hammered into you from an early age on which didn’t seem to be the case form him. It was weird, not being on the ice, being the one to watch instead.

You changed back into your shoes and walked up the steps.

From the top, which wasn’t all that high because this rink wasn’t that big, he seemed small. You wondered if you looked like that too, if anyone had thought that when you fell down, when they had seen you sprawled on the ice at fifteen, not being able to get up again.

A sick shudder passed through you. You wondered if you had ever gotten up from that ice.

Then you turned around, your back to him and left without saying goodbye.

~*~

The next time you saw him again, was two days later, just after six.

You knew you were going to be late for class but didn’t really care. Today you weren’t as cooped up in your own head, but it was still hard to let go of these stolen few hours of freedom and face reality.

“Hey,” Nico said, “it’s you again.”

“Hello,” you said in return. He stepped on the ice and you fought off the urge to leave immediately. That would be impolite, a voice reminded you in your head, even if you didn’t want him to be here right now.

“Are you here every morning?” he asked you, falling into step beside you and therefore joining you on your cooldown laps.

Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t he just do his own thing? Did he have to come talk to you? “Yes.”

"Dedicated. I only come every second day,” he said as if it mattered to you. You might have to leave early every second day now to avoid talking to him, which made your scowl even worse.

“Okay.” You said instead.

He hummed in reason but dropped the conversation after. When you took a look at him from the corner of your eye he didn’t seem deterred at your attitude, seemingly just satisfied that he got a response.

After another lap in, you hated to admit it but companionable silence, you left, without saying anything but this time he waved back at you from below. You didn’t return his gesture.

~*~

Despite your early judgement, the two of you formed some kind of routine over the next few weeks. You came early, and sometimes you left a protein bar for him in the stands and sometimes he brought you a hot tea for when you got off the ice.

Still, always without fail, he joined you for a few laps. He talked about his life and sometimes asked you a few questions. Sometimes you answered him, other times you didn’t. He never pressed for answers.

Nico told you that he was from Switzerland, which explained the heavy accent. He just joined Halifax, and he came early to work on his technique, preferring to do so in silence without his teammates chirping at him. You, in turn, told him that you had skated, professionally, before your injury. He didn’t ask for details about either of these things and you didn’t share of your own accord.

Slowly, so slowly that you didn’t even notice, you realised that he had become your friend.

It was strange. You hadn’t made friends in a long time. Before, you had had school friends, but because you never hung out outside of it, always training, it never deepend.

A weird sort warmth seeped in under your skin at the thought of the two of you being friends like a steady fire that kept you warm at night.

The friends you had made while skating splintered along with your knee.

It was hard, you knew that, to see their worst fear reflected back at them, but it was still hard for you to reach out, so you simply stopped talking to each other.

On your bad days you thought that it was all their fault, on your good you knew that it was a mutual mistake.

The thing about Nico was that he was hard to pin down. He was hardworking, thrived under pressure and loved hockey. He was also afraid of falling and failing, he loved sitting under the sun in the summers, feeling his skin heat up and his favorite colour was green, but he admitted that it changed every few weeks.

You knew that this friendship wouldn’t last, not really. Neither of you had any way of reaching out to the other, and neither expressed the desire to do so but it was still nice, this tentative kinship.

~*~

“Have you ever played hockey?” he asked you, once.

It must have been a Saturday or Sunday because you were in no hurry to get off the ice, instead basking in his company.

“No,” you answered, simply.

He grinned, “you are missing out.”

“Really now?” you asked, teasingly, when you turned around to skate with your front to him.

“Really. I wanna teach you,” he said, leaving the choice up to you without outright asking. If you wanted to you could just brush it off and the conversation would continue.

Instead you said, “yeah, sure, why not.”

His smile was blinding, the adoration for his sport bleeding from every inch of his skin. It was a good look on him, happiness. Distantly you wondered if anyone had ever thought that about you.

It was different, skating with a stick in your hands but it was fun. He taught you how to shoot and aim at a certain spot which you weren’t half bad at if you stood still.

Hours later when the two of you stepped off the ice your tea was cold but you hardly noticed it.

~*~

Another day you asked him what he was reaching for.

“Olympics,” he had answered immediately but after a beat of silence he looked up as if the lights in the ceiling were stars he could wish upon. “I think I want someone to look at me and think ‘I want to do that. I want to start playing hockey.’”

You looked at him and the only thought that crossed your mind was that he was the reason you could step off the ice again, that you knew you would always be able to come back, just one more time.

“I like that,” you said because it was true.

He tilted his head back to you, and the way his eyes glimmered with a rare vulnerability made your breath catch. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, standing still, alive and just in reach.

Oh.

That was that feeling in your chest.

~*~

Yet another day he joined you on the ice and you immediately kicked him off again.

“What did I say about injuries?” you asked, frustrated in a way only he could make you.

“That they were not to be ignored,” he parroted back, his gaze between his feet as if staring at his ankle would magically heal it.

“Exactly,” you said. Then, gentler than before, “you need to give yourself time to heal, otherwise you will never get better.”

He looked back up to where you were hovering above him. “Okay.”

You didn’t want him to have the last word. “Okay,” you said firmly and sat down next to him.

The two migrated up to the changing rooms where he sat on a bench with his ankle elevated while you worked through your stretches, your knewww aching in phantom pain.

~*~

Today your mind was quiet.

It was your last time and you had wanted to take it all in again, one last time. You were moving, your father had gotten a new job somewhere in New Jersey. You knew it was good, a new start away from everything, a chance to start over.

But still, you were going to miss this. The rink, the quiet, the place you had grown up in. The place that was your prison as much as it was your salvation.

As you looked up towards the ceiling, the lights shining down on you, the dark gary that seemed black in contrast, you thought you should cry. This was the perfect moment to, and you hadn’t yet.

Then, the door opened.

You were surprised because he wasn’t supposed to be here today. Nico had been here yesterday and the two of you had argued about your favorite brand of cereal, and you selfishly had wanted to leave it at that.

To leave your friendship without having to say goodbye, without having to ever really let go of him.

“Nico,” you breathed, before you could stop yourself.

“Hey you,” he said, as he came up to you. You didn’t even realise that you had stopped moving.

“It’s late,” he stated. You looked up to the clock and sure enough, it was almost twenty past.

“Ah,” you said, uncaring. It’s not like you had school today. You wondered when he went to school, if his just started later than yours had. In all your talks you had never actually talked about it.

And you never were going to anymore, you had to remind yourself. Suddenly it was a lot harder to breathe through the ache in your chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you knew he meant it, “you look, I don’t know, sad?”

“I’m moving,” before he could ask anything more, “like tomorrow. This is the last time I’m going to see you in a while.”

“Oh.” The expression on his face was hurt, because he must have realised that you had intended to leave without saying anything.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “for everything.” You weren’t really sure for what, but it seemed like the right thing to say. For your intentions, the way you acted, maybe.

“It’s okay,” he said, but it wasn’t, not really. You knew that and he knew that you knew.

“I’m moving to New Jersey.”

He was quiet for a bit.”America,” he started. Then, “do you want to exchange numbers?”

You ignored the sting behind your eyes. “I’m probably going to have to get a new simcard, but you can give me yours.”

The two of you skated back to the door, from where you had stood still in the middle of the open space. He got a piece of paper and a pen from his bag and then somewhat messily tore off the corner of a worksheet and scribbled down his number in blue ink and signed it with his name.

He looked up at you but neither of you said anything for a while. What was there to say, anymore?

“Don’t forget about me,” he ended up telling you and you reached out to hug him. He was warm under your hands, steady and you were going to miss this, him.

“Don’t forget me either,” you murmured into the crook of his neck.

Still, in the back of your mind, you knew that you were never going to use his number. You were going to cut off your old life before it could follow you to your new one. But for once you had told him the truth, you weren’t going to forget about him, probably ever.

And that was that. You said goodbye, waved and you left him there. He returned the gesture, face unreadable and you were sad that the last time he looked at you he wasn’t smiling.

From the top you looked down at him one last time. He seemed bigger now, compared to that first time you had looked down at him, still filled with bitterness.

Maybe that was just your imagination, or maybe it was his confidence after playing with his current team, after seeing his results pay off.

You turned and let the door fall closed behind you.

Then, and only then tears started to well up in your eyes. You ignored them and moved on. Always looking ahead, never back.

Still, you kept the number tucked away safely hidden in a small corner of your wallet. A piece of him that you would always carry with you.

~*~

You made new friends, graduated and decided to attend college. Got diagnosed with chronic depression and mild anxiety, got a boyfriend and broke it off again after three months, cried, laughed and finally lived.

But there was part of you hidden in the corner of your wallet, too.

~*~

If you were being honest, Nico didn’t really cross your mind when your friend asked you to go to a hockey game with you.

In a way he did, because he had been one of your few friends that played hockey, but it was more of an oh yeah, the sport Nico loved and not oh yeah I’m going to a hockey game and I wonder if Nico is still playing, I wonder if he made it to the big leagues.

Okay, maybe that was a bit of a lie, but still. You hadn’t expected this.

The two of you went to the Prudential Center and you were excited despite your earlier apprehension. Your phone with the blocked tags of icehockey and nhl seemed to burn a hole in your pants but it’s not like anyone would know.

Your friend had told you a bit about the team, but if you were being honest, you could not remember any of their names, much less which position and line they played.

When the players got announced, the home team first, you froze. Suddenly the noise of the cheers around you were completely quiet until they flooded back to you, a harsh reminder of reality.

Because it was him. That was Nico. Your Nico. Or like your past Nico.

There, with a red thirteen and a small C over his chest, was Nico. He was all grown up now, and instead of thinking wow, he is kind of attractive when he smiled at the camera, you thought, holy shit, he is really, really handsome.

Your friend picked up on your strange behaviour. “What's wrong?”

I know him, you wanted to scream. I think he saved my life without meaning to, and I think I loved him but I never told him. What came out instead was, “I think I'm going to be sick.”

“What?” she asked, suddenly even more worried, “do you need fresh air? Or do you just want to leave?”

You wanted to stay. You wanted to shoot a puck at his head and tell him to look up at you, the way he had done back then.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you said and when didn’t change at your reply, you added, “I’m just going to get some water. I think it might be the crowd or something.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to come with?”

You knew how much she had been looking forward to it, and besides there was nothing she could help you with anyhow. “No, really, it’s all good. Just need to breathe for a second.”

She gave you a look, and you smiled despite wanting to curl up in a corner and cry, “if you are sure. But if anything,” she took your hand in hers, “if anything is wrong call me. I’m gonna have my phone in my hand the entire time.”

You squeezed her hand the same way your heart did at her words. “Thank you, really, but it’s okay. I'll be right back.”

Then you fled up the stands and you couldn’t help but think about the first time you had seen him, how you had left without saying anything. You looked down, just once, and spotted him immediately, as if he was the north pole to your south, your eyes drawn to him.

He seemed even bigger now, as if he had finally grown into the steady confidence he had had, even back then.

You smiled. He deserved it, genuinely. You were glad that he did end up making it to the big leagues, even if some part of you hurt at that. You still missed ice skating, your rink from back then, David, but most of all you missed what could have been if you hadn’t been scared.

What could have been if you had just texted him.

Regret was a useless emotion to feel, but all of a sudden you felt yourself drown in and you coughed once, just to ease that feeling in your throat.

Then you turned your back to the ice and walked up the rest of the stairs to the stands to get yourself some water.

It was useless trying to think about any of it now, so you pushed the thoughts aside for later.

~*~

A week later you were drunk. It was a Friday evening and you had finally finished the gruelling lab you had worked on for the entire day.

You were hanging out in your friend’s room, the same friend that had taken you to the game a week before. Two of your other friends were sat ob the floor, leaning gainst the opposite bed and a warm, content feeling spread through your chest.

You had friends now.

“What’s wrong?” she suddenly asked from where she was sat next to you on her bed, her back against the headboard, yours against the wall adjacent to it.

“Nothing,” you answered because nothing was.

“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, tell me,” she said, “you've been quiet ever since we came back from the game a week ago and I’ve waited long enough for you to say something, so now I’m going to.”

Had you been that obvious? Or did she just know you that well? Either way, she deserved the truth, the full truth.

“I just,” you began and stopped again, starting to peel off the sticker on your beer with the blunt edge of your nail.

“When I was younger, I skated.” You started. You knew that she had never expressed any kind of interest in skating so you elaborated further, “really well.” Wow, you were really eloquent tonight.

“Okay,” she said, no doubt wondering where you were going with this.

Your mind was fuzzy around the edges because of the drinks which made harder than usual to focus on your words, but it made it easier to talk about it, too. These people didn’t know about anything that had been, only what was. “I was good enough to win. Olympics, I mean.”

Suddenly one of the other two friends from the other side of the room joined in. “The Olympics?”

“Yeah,” you said, staring firmly at the bottle in your hands, not looking at any of them. “I won bronze and silver, fifteen and sixteen.”

“Holy shit,” she said, as did your other friend, but one of them remained quiet, so you looked at her.

From the look in her eyes you knew that she knew. “And then I fell, badly. Tried to get up again but couldn’t. Went to the doctor and you know,” you trailed off, “retired. Started physiotherapy, got a lot better but…”

“Not enough to ever compete again,” she finished for you.

“Yeah,” you said, voice hoarse. “But I couldn’t let go of it, you know? So sometimes, before school, I snuck out to the local rink and skated around just because I didn’t know anything else.”

Your friend that was next to you on the bed made an encouraging noise, and laid a hand on your knee, so you continued.

“Then I met a guy. I was in a bad mental place, not really talking to anyone unless I had to, but we somehow became friends.”

Then you looked at them, “I don’t know, it was a weird friendship because we only ever saw each other at the rink every few days, but I felt something for him anyway. It wasn’t quite love but could have been, maybe.”

The others were still listening, and the words rushed out before you could stop yourself. “Then I moved. Wanted to leave before saying goodbye because that would hurt too much. On the day I was leaving I saw him anyway. He gave me his number but I never used it.”

“You wanted to make a clean cut?” your friend asked.

“Yeah. It was sefish, because it wasn’t just about me, you know? I should have told him how I felt, but I didn’t.” You shook your head, “but that’s not even the point. I saw him again at the game.”

“Oh,” your friend that had dragged you to it, said.

“Yeah,” you answered, and your other friend asked, “why didn’t you talk to him?”

The other friend, the one that had never asked you about your skating, even though she had known, even though she had every opportunity to, said, “because he was playing, right?”

“Yeah,” you said and you wanted to cry. You could still hear his name announced by the speakers. “Funny, all the time we spent together and I never knew his last name.”

“Who is it?” she asked, gentle, and you knew you could just not answer. You could bury it deep down, once and for all. But that’s not what you wanted to do, not anymore.

“Nico Hischier.” And your friend laughed.

“Of course it’s the captain,” she said and you couldn’t help but join in, the effects of the alcohol cursig through your veins. What were the chances, really? That he ended up in the state you had moved to all those years ago.

The others joined it. “He changed his number by now, I’m sure.”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” one of them said.

All of you were quiet for a second. “Wait, I have an idea,” she said and moved her hand from your leg and grabbed your phone.

She gave it to you and made a motion for you to unlock it. You did and gave it back to her. From where you were sat you weren’t able to see your screen, much less what she typed on it.

After a few seconds she gave it back to you.

It was Nico’s instagram profile. You hesitated before clicking on his most recent post. Your other friends that had been sitting on the floor climbed up to join you.

“Follow him,” one of them said. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest. This was not the account you had used to document your wins and training back then, but it still had your first and last name in the username, but it was on private.

Underneath your thumb the button changed colour. “Fuck,” you said.

The other three laughed at your exclamation. “Wait, do I text him?” you asked, turning to the others.

They all looked back at you, and one of them asked, “do you want to?”

You did. You really fucking did, but you had no idea what to say. “But what do I say? Hey, sorry for being a dick to you when we were like seventeen, I was half in love with you and didn’t know how to tell you, so I just cut you out before anything could possibly hurt me.”

One of them leaned her head on your shoulder. “If you leave out the half in love part, it’s not too bad.”

“You should also ask if he wants to meet and talk in person,” the other said.

You opened your notes app and the four of you composed a message to him.

Your hands were shaking and your heart was beating too fast. This was it, this was your chance and you weren’t going to let go again without a fight. This time you would stay and he could make the choice: to stay or to leave.

Then, you hit the small blue icon and sent it and let out a quiet scream. You wouldn’t be able to take it back, not anymore.

You threw your phone away from you onto a small patch where the blanket you were sitting on was still visible.

Over an hour passed and you still hadn’t heard back from him. Soon after you pased out, but a quiet acceptance had settled in your stomach. He forgot. Or maybe he didn’t see the message or maybe he didn't want to talk to you again, which you couldn’t blame him for.

But when you woke up the next morning, you had a single notification from him.

For a second you debated not clicking on it, but that would mean standing still. It would be different this time. You would be different this time. There was an unfamiliar, new kind of determination that flickered up your spine and it reminded you of the steady ice under your skates, of the final hug the two of you had shared. Harsh, unforgiving, certain.

You clicked on it and there was no going back now.

Nico Hischier Hello, it’s been a while. Of course I remember you, didn’t I tell you? For sure, I'd love to meet up and talk. Does next weekend work for you? I have a home game which makes it easier for both of us.

notes: So. How are we feeling? Thoughts? Part 2? Please talk to me about this one because this lives in my mind rent free.

#nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier imagine #nhl #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl x y/n #nhl x you #nhl x reader #ame writes

169 notes · View notes

sopebubbles · 9 months

Text

Master List

Twelve

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Yoongi takes you on a date

Warnings: slight angst (mostly talking about her past), mentions of past abuse, homelessness, fear of abandonment

Honestly yall its a lot of yoongi and oc being freakin soft 😩

Yoongi was only slightly disappointed to find you awake and making breakfast with Hobi in the kitchen when he came in after eight in the morning. He'd kind of been hoping to be able to take a peek at you in your nest, just to see for himself that you were as safe and cozy as his other omega had promised (many times) that you were last night. Although he hadn't been gripped by the same agonizing fear he had known for the month you were gone, he still hated being away from you so long last night, and he'd texted both Jimin and Hoseok multiple times last to assuage his anxiety (and his guilt). They'd promised him that you had nested just fine, had eaten well and seemed perfectly happy with Jimin's company before peacefully going to sleep. It was cute just how much he worried about the details.

"Yoongi!" You said his name brightly when you saw him and rushed over to give him a hug. You were too energized from a good night's sleep and the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice Taehyung gave you to be self conscious about it. You didn't seem to notice the flour on your cheek until Yoongi brushed it off with a smile. "Oh sorry. I'm probably getting you dirty," you said as you tried to pull away. He held you close.

"I don't mind. Good morning," he hummed as he rubbed his chin over the top of your head.

"M-morning." Yoongi's arms tightening around you turned to jelly when you'd been solid only moments ago.

How can he be so warm? He must be tired and hungry.

"Can I get you some pancakes?" You offered, and he finally loosened his hold.

"Only if you eat some with me. Have you eaten yet?"

You shook your head. "But I need to help Hobi."

The omega waved a hand at you without looking back. "I can handle it. If your alpha says eat, then it's time to eat. Which you know. She kept saying she didn't want to eat until you got here," he added just to make you squirm. A small whine escaped your throat, drawing the attention of all the men, whether they intended to look your way or not. "Careful, girl. Your whines have power here," Hobi smirked as he set two plates in front of you and Yoongi on the counter.

You sat down and ate quietly for a few minutes while Yoongi tried and failed to pretend he was paying more attention to the food than to you. Jin and Jungkook were laying on the couch, nearly falling back asleep after stuffing themselves before anyone else got up. Jimin had gotten up to take your place helping Hobi while Taehyung and Namjoon sat at the table sharing the newspaper.

"What do you want to do today?" Yoongi asked after several minutes.

You swallowed and cleared your throat. "I have to work later."

Yoongi's fork froze halfway to his mouth. "What? why?"

You shrugged. "I work Saturdays."

"You work six hours a day, six days a week?" You nodded. "That's too much."

"I-I thought you d-didn't mind me working…"

Screwed it up already. Now you'll see how he really feels. The pancakes in your stomach turned to lead.

Yoongi could see you getting nervous, watched you grow even smaller. "No. No, I don't," he managed, forcing his voice to be calm. "I don't mind you working if it's what you want. But that's a lot. Thirty-six hours is almost full time but no benefits. That just seems…sketchy."

You tilted your head at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just that it seems like your employer is taking advantage of you. Do you get any benefits?"

"Well, I get heat leave."

"But what about health insurance? Vacation? Extended sick leave? What if you get pregnant?" Yoongi could feel all the air leave the room and wished he could take the words back.

You shook you head and spoke softly, "Yoongi, I'm not–"

"I know. I didn't mean that. I'm an idiot. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, those are things you'd expect in a full-time job."

You shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of options, Yoongi."

"I know," he sighed. "I just want you to be treated fairly."

You stood from your stool and walked toward the stairs. "People like me don't get treated fairly."

Yoongi got up and followed you, catching your arm as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. For what I said and how I said it. I know that you've been doing the best you could, and I have no right to judge that. Everything is okay." His hand laid hot against your neck, thumb stroking just the bottom edge of your scent gland. When he felt your shoulders relax, so did his. "Come finish your breakfast, and when you're ready I'll take you to work."

You turned worried eyes up at him. "You worked so hard, alpha. You must be tired. I'll finish, but then you need to go to sleep. Jimin and Tae will take me."

The corners of Yoongi's mouth turned up in a placating smile. "Okay."

He watched you walk back to your seat at the counter and pick up your fork, ignoring the eyes of the others as he joined you. He wanted to talk it through with you more, but he wasn't going to make you do it in front of everyone, and he didn't want to get into an argument before you went to work all day. Instead, he asked you how your night was and what you did the day before, and you plastered on a smile that slowly became more natural while you told him all about nesting and your newfound love of pillows.

When you'd both finished eating, you took your plates and washed them along with the others, no matter what Hobi said. You couldn't sit down and relax now. Doing so would only create nervous energy you wouldn't be able to dispel. You'd have to spend the rest of your day in motion. Yoongi followed you again when you went up the stairs to change for work, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little annoying.

At the top of the stairs you turned to look at him. "Are you going to follow me around all day?" You snapped.

Yoongi took a step back. He honestly didn't even realize how close he was. "I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and you could see how tired he was.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "What are you doing?"

He sighed. "I was going to sleep like you'd suggested. I think I was following you because…"

He wants to sleep in my nest.

The realization dawned on both of you. "It's not time yet," you said softly, but eased your defensive stance.

Yoongi met your eyes with equal tenderness and smiled a little. "Yet?"

"Yet," you confirmed.

Somehow the idea that there was a future nest he would be invited into was enough for him. "That's alright."

You turned on your heel to walk to your room, but he called you back. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"

"A date?"

"Yeah. If you don't have any plans."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He chuckled. "Well, I told you we could date as part of our courtship, and I would like to get to know you better."

"But…" you looked at him with an expression of such utter confusion that he wished he had a camera to document it.

"But what?"

"I just…I don't want you to force yourself to take me on a date if you aren't attracted to me."

It was Yoongi's turn to be utterly lost. "Whatever gave you the idea that I'm not attracted to you? I'm your alpha."

"Yeah, I know, but I feel like you're just doing this, taking me in because you want to protect me, because I'm so helpless and pathetic. And you were so cool about not breeding me. Plus you have all the guys, and so I just guessed you weren't thinking of me that way." You wilted under Yoongi's amused gaze.

He snorted. "Princess, I do want to protect you because you are incredibly vulnerable, but that doesn't change my attraction to you one bit. And there's a whole world of intimacy between protecting you and breeding you. It's vast and we should go slow, but a date is a good start. That is, unless you aren't attracted to me."

Blood rushed to your face as you felt put on the spot. What kind of omega wouldn't be attracted to the alpha he was? What person wouldn't fall for his gentle, caring demeanor? But you couldn't possibly admit to it.

Yoongi stepped closer to mark the top of your head with his scent. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away, but it still left you weak in the knees.

"I don't have anything to wear."

Yoongi shrugged. "It will be very casual. No one will see you but me. You can wear pajamas for all I care. Bonus points if you wear one of my hoodies."

You smiled at that thought. "Okay then."

"Good. Then I'll see you tonight," he told you before he turned and went into the pack bedroom to sleep.

Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find an apple-scented pillow in his usual spot and let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before his memory from last night came back to him.

He had brought a patient to the emergency room of the hospital he had brought your ex-alpha to a few nights ago. After they filled out some paperwork, Yoongi and his partner took a break. His motivation was unclear, even at the time, but he found out what room the alpha was staying in from a nurse that liked to talk to him whenever she got the chance. She told him that he was still in the ICU, but that he was in a coma, and hadn't woken up since the night he was brought in. When he found the room, there was a woman inside. A tall redhead, an alpha as well, if Yoongi wasn't mistaken, so he steered clear, but it had stuck with him the rest of the night.

When he heard you, Jimin and Taehyung leave the house, Yoongi got out of bed and went to the living room where Jin and Jungkook were still on the couch.

"Is everything okay, Yoongi?" Jin asked when the alpha only stood over them without saying a word.

"I need to ask you some questions. Legal questions," he clarified and sat on the coffee table opposite them.

"What's on your mind, hyung?" Jungkook sat up to give him his full attention.

"I found out last night that her ex-alpha–"

"His name is Sebastián," Jungkook added.

Yoongi growled. "He's in a coma. And I just need to know what's going to happen to her if he never wakes up. And I guess, what happens if he does?"

Jin sat up and shared a look with Jungkook before he spoke. "If he doesn't wake up, there would most likely be a grand jury investigation, which would determine who, if anyone, was responsible for his death."

"In that case, the blame would likely fall on the driver, since she has already been charged with drunk driving. It would be manslaughter," Jungkook added.

"But she said she pushed him, in her statement. That won't matter?"

Jin shook his head doubtfully. "She could get charged, but in my experience, if you put that girl in front of any judge or jury, there's no way they wouldn't chalk it up to self defense. If he does survive, it wouldn't even make sense to press charges for assault. He wouldn't look very sympathetic. But whether or not she's charged criminally, if he dies, his family could bring a wrongful death suit to civil court. But again, it will be hard to make her look like a perpetrator, especially since they're both Lykos."

"You seem confident that she'll be okay?"

"I am," Jin assured him.

"But what if she had a motive?" Yoongi worried.

"You mean because they knew each other?" Yoongi nodded. Jin thought it over, rubbing his finger along his lower lip. "The prosecution would have to prove she meant to push him into traffic and not just to get him off of her. In that case, she'd just need to be coached not to take the bait."

"Could you do it? Would you take the case? If it came to that, I mean." Yoongi didn't know any other lawyers, and he certainly didn't know any he thought he could trust with something like this more than Jin.

He must have been able to read that emotion in Yoongi's eyes because Jin nodded. He wouldn't take that trust for granted again. "If she needs me to, of course, Yoongi. I'll do anything for you."

You were surprised when Yoongi said he was taking you to a drive in theater. You'd hardly been to any movie theaters at all in your life, and never a drive-in, but you liked the idea of it. There were lots of benefits to it. You got to go out to a public place, but sitting in his car was relatively private. The movie removed the pressure to make conversation, but on the other hand, if the movie wasn't very interesting, you could talk through it without disturbing anyone else. It was really a perfect idea for a first date.

He'd urged you to take a nap when you got home since the movie wouldn't start until later, and you were glad you'd taken his advice. You didn't have much to choose from when it came to clothing options, so you simply put on a clean pair of jeans and the mustard yellow hoodie he had loaned you a few days ago. Yoongi seemed pleased enough with your ensemble, repeating his compliment of how nice you looked in that color. He wasn't dressed up at all either, wearing a pair of ordinary jeans and a baggy long sleeve shirt. You wouldn't know it because he wouldn't say such a thing, but there wasn't anything you could wear that would look more appealing to him than his own clothes, because they made you look like you were his. He beamed at you when you came down the stairs to leave with him.

"Do I look okay?" You whispered to Hoseok.

He pinched your cheek. "You look adorable. He loves it. Believe me." He winked at Yoongi over your head and the alpha held out his hand to take you to the car. "Don't come home too early," he instructed as you went out the door together.

Once you got settled in the front seat, Yoongi cleared his throat before he started the engine. "This is for you," he said as he handed you a brand new Samsung phone.

"Oh, I–"

"Before you say you don't need it, just consider that it's for me. I want you to make sure that you have it with you and it's on all the time. I told you that it's important for me to know where you are, so I can keep you safe, so you need a phone. And don't worry, it's not like the newest model or anything. Besides, remember you're agreed to let me provide for you. So just accept it. It has all of the pack's numbers saved already, in case you ever need one of them, and they all have your number already. I'm your emergency contact," he rambled.

Instead of offering any protest you smiled softly and unbuckled your seat belt to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, alpha," you said before you leaned back into your spot. You may have wanted to refuse, but he was right, it was for him and not you, not really. If he needed you to carry this thing around in order to feel more secure, that shouldn't be hard for you.

You weren't prepared for more gifts when you got to the drive-in. When you found a spot to park, Yoongi told you to wait while he got out of the car and went to the trunk. You looked anxiously through the back window, but couldn't see anything that gave away what he was doing. Eventually he pushed a large gift bag and picnic basket through his open car door before he joined you again.

"What's all this?" You wondered, looking at the tissue paper sticking out of the huge bag at your eye level.

"Why don't you open it and see?" He teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you got up on your knees to be able to look over the bag, but your scrutiny only made him smile. Pulling out the paper piece by piece revealed two soft round pillows inside, one lavender and one orange.

"I figured you needed some pillows for your nest. I thought these could remind you of me and Jiminie."

Your cheeks and your eyes burned as you pulled out the two pillows, almost ball-like except for how plush they were. They squeezed nicely in your arms when you held them to your chest.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Yoongi asked, beginning to feel nervous when you didn't say anything.

You buried your head in them to hide your wet eyes. "They're perfect." Your words were muffled, but they still warmed Yoongi's heart. When you collected yourself, you placed the pillows safely back in the bag and set it aside. "What's in the basket?"

"Oh, I asked Hobi to put together some snacks for us. But if there are any other treats you want, I'll go get something from the concession stand." Yoongi opened the top of the basket and you both reached for the box of raisinets at the same time. You whispered an apology while Yoongi plucked them out. He opened the box and handed it to you. "I'm going to go get some popcorn. Do you have a drink preference?"

You shook your head and he got out once again to go get more snacks. You shoved a few raisinets into your mouth and put the rest away. Then you pulled out the soft orange pillow from the gift bag at your feet and held it close again. You wondered if he'd already scented it, or if it was your imagination that applied the orange aroma.

The longer he was gone, your mind began to wander. It was hard not to think about all the first things you were experiencing lately. Your very first completely safe, self- made nest, your first drive-in movie, your first date. It had felt like you'd been living for years, in the most raw way possible, but maybe all you'd done was survive, and only barely. These new things seemed so small and insignificant to you when they were only abstract ideas, things you would live without because you didn't need them to survive, but now they felt monumentally important as each one carved a memory in your heart. And each one was available to you only because of Yoongi.

The man at the center of your thoughts broke through them when he returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket of popcorn, which he handed to you, and a large coke that he balanced on the dashboard.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, taking in your expression, which remained pensive as he settled into his seat.

You forced a smile, not because you weren't feeling it, but because it wasn't a thing you were accustomed to showing. "I'm fine. I…" you searched for something to say that would take you away from your thoughts. "I didn't even ask what we were seeing."

Yoongi chuckled at himself. "Oh. Yeah. It's actually a horror movie. I was actually hoping we could see the comedy that's playing on the other screen, but it was sold out, so this one was left. But if you don't like horror movies, I was thinking we could just sit and talk. Or we could leave. Or if we're really bored we could turn on the radio station for the comedy and watch it with the horror scenes."

You laughed at his ridiculous idea, but thought it actually sounded kind of fun. "Well, I do like horror movies, but option three also sounds interesting," you admitted with a smile that almost stopped his heart.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he looked out the window. "There's still like twenty or thirty minutes before the sun sets and the movie starts. Maybe we can still talk?"

You began to get the feeling that this was what he actually wanted to begin with. He had said he wanted to get to know you, and you supposed he had a right to know the person he was taking in, but at the same time you didn't want to overwhelm him with all of your baggage, at least not in one night.

"What do you want to talk about?" You hedged, shoving a kernel of popcorn past your lips.

"Well, I just really want to know more about you, but I don't want to be unfair, so you can ask me anything you want to," he offered, turning in his seat to look at you.

"I don't know what I could tell you that Jungkook hasn't already. I mean, he must have run a background check on me, right? And he would have told you before he let you take me home?"

Yoongi shook his head. "Jungkook hasn't really said much, actually. I mean, yeah, we do know about, um, where you were before you came to the city," he said diplomatically.

"You mean jail?" You asked provocatively. "You can say it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, which I understand." You knew you shouldn't be getting your hackles up with him. He approached the subject gently and here you were, striking back with your claws out like the alley cat that you were. You closed your eyes to try to calm your racing heart.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, it's okay. I'm not judging you. No one in the pack is, either. You're not the only person to get arrested, you know."

You opened your eyes and looked at him incredulously. "Have you been arrested?"

Yoongi nodded his head. "When I was sixteen. A friend and I stole his uncle's car and went for a joy ride. I was just a passenger, and I hadn't presented yet. They dropped the charges."

"Wow, grand theft auto," you chuckled and he did too.

"My point is, we all have a past. I mean, some of us more than others, but you're not the only one."

You eyed him uncertainly. "Did he tell you what I was arrested for? I wasn't just arrested Yoongi. I spent six months in county."

Yoongi nodded. "I know, but I'm not judging you for what you had to do."

You shook your head with a wry laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't do it. I mean yeah, she made me go out there, but I promise you I didn't sell my body. Honest. That was my first night. I may have been naive, but I'm not an idiot. The first guy I talked to was a cop, and I knew it. I could spot him easy, so I offered myself up and I let him arrest me. And when they charged me, I pleaded guilty. Do you know why?" Yoongi shook his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Because going to jail was better than going back to my alphas."

Yoongi kept his face neutral despite the anger he felt bubbling below the surface of his skin. He'd never ever question your decision, but he would always feel angry that your situation was so bad that jail seemed like a viable alternative for you.

"You said alphas?" He questioned when he managed to speak.

"Two of them," you said with a nod.

"And one of them was female?"

"Yeah, they were husband and wife."

"How did you meet them? I mean…he's so much older."

You grabbed the coke from the dashboard and took a long drink to clear the lump in your throat. Yoongi's eyes never left you, but you tried to ignore him. "I met her first. I was on the streets. I was almost seventeen by then, but I'd been on my own for months. She just started talking to me one day when she was volunteering at a soup kitchen…offered me a place to stay. And I was desperate enough to not question it."

"So she just…took you in off the streets?" You nodded. "And then what?" He asked as if your story was the one he had bought a ticket for tonight.

"And then…and then everything seemed normal for like a week. They just seemed like a regular couple. They had a spare room and they needed help around the house, so I would clean and take care of the house in exchange for living there. It was several days before I realized they actually wouldn't let me leave. I hadn't really been on heat suppressants yet, and when that time came around I found out that the real reason they wanted me was because they wanted babies. They couldn't have any on their own, so they would use me. Like some fucked up puppy mill," you choked out.

Yoongi reached over to pat your back, but you flinched away from him, and he could understand that you wanted your space after such a revelation. He took his hand back and tried to think of something to say when all he wanted to do was rage on your behalf. But he knew it wouldn't do you any good. "It makes sense that you were so frightened when two other strangers took you off the street. You must have been very scared."

You looked him straight in the eyes. "It's only been a few days. Shouldn't I still be scared?"

It wounded Yoongi deeply that you felt that way, but he could hardly blame you. He knew it wasn't about him exactly. "I'm sorry. I know there isn't really anything I could say to reassure you that you're safe with me but–"

"It's okay, Yoongi. I do feel safe with you. It's different. The way I feel when I think about you. When I'm near you…I feel safe but…" you looked out at the narrowing strip of pink sky to your left.

"But what?"

"I've been taken in so many times when I think I'm at my lowest. When I was abandoned as a baby, when I met those other alphas, when Eli came to play big brother. And never, never has any of it actually made me safe."

"I hope–" Yoongi could feel the tears at his water line, but they would stay there. He bit his lip and looked away as well. "I hope you'll stay long enough to know that you will be safe in our home."

You looked back at him finally and noticed the collar of his unbuttoned button-down shirt was crooked. Reaching over to straighten it, you assured him, "as long as you keep it safe for me, I won't have anywhere else to go."

Yoongi took your wrist gently before you had the chance to pull away from him. With his fingertips against your pulse point, he could feel the strong, steady beat of your heart, not high enough to be panicking, but still a little anxious. "I will do everything I can to make you feel safe," he promised.

Before you could make any kind of response, the lights over the parking lot shut off and images began to play on the screen in front of you. Without another word, Yoongi released you in order to fiddle with the radio, tuning it to the right station for your movie. You both settled back into the seat, facing the screen, with a mountain of snacks in between you. You each tried your best to focus on the movie, but you could feel it every time his eyes slid toward you as he watched your profile instead of the characters on screen. Every time you turned to look at him he recentered his attention, but he was fooling no one. Several times your hands brushed when you both reached into the popcorn for a salty snack, and he would chuckle awkwardly before pulling away.

You both tried to focus on the movie, but the truth was that it did nothing to hold your attention, not with Yoongi right beside you.

"There's something I don't understand," you said abruptly, causing Yoongi to look quickly between you and the huge screen. The movie had been pretty straight forward, to the point of being pretty boring.

"What?"

"Why do you like me? Why me?" Yoongi laughed openly while you pouted. You pulled your feet under you and turned to face him straight on, giving up any pretense of watching the movie. "Don't laugh. I'm serious. I mean. I don't know. I guess I'm trying to understand your intentions because I want to believe that this won't be like before but I…I'm scrawny and dumb and there's nothing interesting about me. I'm not even pretty enough to make up for it all. And there are plenty of needy omegas in this city. So what could you possibly want me for?"

Yoongi's humor subsided, and he turned the radio down before moving to face you as well. His expression was serious but his eyes still held light. He reached over to brush back your hair so he could see your face in the scattered light from the projector.

"I don't think attraction is ever really about those things. Not how someone looks or what they have to say, but how those things resonate with you. It's an elemental, a chemical thing. I just like you. Maybe that's why Hobi and Jin think we're fated mates."

"Fated mates?"

"I don't know. It's kind of…lykos folklore. Sort of what saps think of as soulmates. Like, it just feels right with someone, like you're linked to them even though there's no real reason. There's no proof that it's real. It's just a feeling I guess. But they say it only happens with alphas and omegas. And I don't think I believe it. I don't know if you feel that. But I do feel drawn to you in a way that I never have with anyone else. I don't even think attraction is the right word. I just feel like…I need to be with you."

Yoongi's eyes never left your face while he talked and you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stopped and you inhaled so you could answer him. "Maybe that's why my omega wants me to trust you even though everything else tells me not to. Like, I should be terrified of you, but I'm just not. I just want to be good so that I can stay."

You didn't know you were leaning toward him, nor were you fully aware of the words you spoke or how they made Yoongi's heart race, but when he brushed his fingers along your cheekbone you suddenly leaned back, blinking rapidly to regain your composure.

Yoongi coughed and pulled his hand away, reaching for candy to occupy his fingers. "I guess I should be honest with you about my intentions," he said with a shrug. "Because I know they aren't entirely altruistic."

You swallowed, but kept your eyes on him. His words made you nervous, but you'd hardly call it fear. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's a little dark. Or maybe all alphas feel this way. I always knew I was an alpha before presentation, because I always wanted people to depend on me. I always wanted to be in charge, to be a provider, to have the people in my life need me even more than they wanted me. In a way, the attraction I have, the love I have for the others, that's the unbelievable thing. With Jimin, with you, I felt from the first time I met each of you that you needed me. You wouldn't survive without me. And I liked that. Do you think that's kind of sick?" He wondered. You couldn't tell if he wanted an answer, or if he wanted you to be a little bit scared. But still you didn't feel it.

I don't think I will survive without you, your inner self echoed.

You reached out to him, let your fingers graze the back of his hand. "I'm not sure. I'm not the best judge of what's normal and what's not. But it sounds right to me. I think to myself sometimes, I don't know how I've survived this long. I should be dead. Omegas…we aren't built to make it on our own. Sometimes it seemed like my death was right around the corner, but I don't feel that way anymore. The last two days have felt like the safest days of my whole life," you admitted.

Yoongi's chest felt tight, like his heart would burst through his ribs if you kept talking. He turned his palm up so he could slot his fingers through yours. You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold your hand while he tried to keep his breathing steady.

"I don't understand why you're not pack alpha. Is it because Seokjin makes more money?" You wondered after a minute as you brushed back his chin length hair with your fingers.

Yoongi chuckled. "If we're getting technical, Taehyung makes the most money in the pack."

Your eyes bulged in surprise. "But I thought Tae didn't work."

"He doesn't have a job in the strictest sense, but reclusive artists are often the most sought after. His paintings sell for a high price tag to collectors."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe I picked the wrong alpha."

Yoongi tugged on your hand playfully, making you giggle. "I always wanted to be a pack alpha. When I was younger I tried to establish my own pack but…it just wasn't right. I didn't have a lot to offer back then. I've never had Jin's resources. And then I met his pack, and I felt very comfortable with them. It was easy to fall in love with each of them so quickly. But they were already complete before me. I felt surprised they even wanted me. So I let go of that dream. It's been over five years now."

"But then you met Jimin, right? Did you think about starting a pack with him? On your own, I mean?"

Yoongi shrugged. "An alpha and a beta isn't much of a pack. You can make a pack without a beta, but without an omega? What's the point?" He looked at you through his eyelashes, but then quickly away. "Besides, Jimin and I both always wanted a big pack, and he clicked with Jungkook and Taehyung right away. It would have been selfish to take him away just because I wanted to be in charge."

"You're my pack alpha though," you murmured, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine. He could only nod. "Good."

He lets his eyes close and for a minute you just watch him breathe steadily, happy that he seems content with you. But as seconds slip by you begin to feel that it might not be enough. Maybe it was silly, but you felt so much closer to him after all you'd both said, and holding his hand wasn't physically close enough anymore.

"I'm kind of cold," you told him quietly, taking him from his thoughts.

"I can turn on the heat," he offered, letting go of your hand and reaching for the ignition.

"Or maybe you could just hold me?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. He helped you move all the snacks to the backseat of the impala and moved closer so you met in the middle. You huddled into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you legs over his. You let out a quiet, happy sigh you hoped he didn't notice.

"If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was say so," he whispered to the top of your head.

You turned your face into his shoulder. "I'm working on it," you mumbled.

He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails gently against your scalp. "You're doing great, princess."

You made a noise Yoongi wouldn't only describe as grumpy and turned your face up at him. "Why do you call me that?"

"Because that's what I want you to feel like. Because princesses have everything they need provided for. And because you're special just because you're you. But if you don't like it, I can call you something else."

You nestled into him again. "Well, when you put it like that."

Once again, Yoongi turned up the volume on the radio and you both at least pretended to pay attention. Although the movie in general was pretty innocuous, you took advantage of one lame jump scare to bury your face into his neck. Yoongi held his breath as you nosed at his scent gland, causing his light, happy scent to fill the car around you. He let you stay in his arms until the end of the movie, and although you didn't fall asleep, it was an easy mistake for him to make. He scratched teasingly at your side to rouse you when the screen went dark.

"Are you ready to go home, princess?"

You tilted your head up to see his features illuminated by the lights of other cars as they made their exits. You'd practically forgotten that there was anyone else there. Your head nodded sleepily, and Yoongi reluctantly moved you over to your side of the seat. When he moved behind the steering wheel you moved back to the center seat and strapped in the seatbelt there so you could stay close to his warmth.

No matter how old you get, the urge to stay up on a Saturday night always remains. Yoongi could tell by the soft footsteps moving about the second floor that the pack are just settling in for the night, brushing their teeth and for the most part discarding unnecessary items of clothing before staking their claim to their spots in the nest. Everyone was home for once, and they'd all sleep soundly. Even you. Even Yoongi, although he knew that it still wasn't time for you and him to share space for that activity. You climbed the stairs sleepily with Yoongi a few steps behind you, making sure you didn't slip as you swayed precariously. His hand went quickly to your hip, grabbing hold of the fabric there when you tripped over the top step. The noise brought Hoseok to the bedroom door.

"You didn't get her drunk, did you, alpha?" Hobi asked from the half open door. Yoongi rolled his eyes, because the omega knew that wasn't the plan.

"No, just sleepy," you yawned as you rubbed your eyes.

Jimin squeezed past Hoseok to give you a goodnight hug. "You smell like you crawled out of an orange." He giggled, "apples and oranges."

Yoongi blushed while the two of you said your goodnights.

"Do you need any help getting ready for bed?" Hobi asked softly. He'd helped you take apart your nest earlier today so that you could keep practicing.

"No, I think I got it. And I have new pillows," you whispered happily.

"Okay then," he smiled back. "Yoongi, I'll see you in a minute," he said, and the instruction to your alpha was clear, just in case he didn't already know where he would be sleeping tonight. He closed the door and the two of you were cloaked in darkness except for a sliver of light from a lamp Hoseok left on for you in your room.

"Are you going to tell them what I told you earlier?" You asked after a moment passed with nothing but the sound of your breathing.

"I won't, if you don't want me too. But no one is going to judge you if you're–"

"No. I was just thinking it would be better if you did. That way I don't have to tell it six more times."

Yoongi nodded. It was a vulnerable thing you had shared, and it couldn't be easy to talk about with others. "I read once that if you talk about your trauma repeatedly, like you're telling a story, it can start to feel more like a thing that happened and not something that's still happening to you."

You cringed at the thought. "I think I'd still rather have you explain it. If you don't mind."

"Of course," he agreed easily, anything to make you more comfortable.

"I had a good time tonight," you admitted after another quiet moment where neither of you seemed to want to leave.

Yoongi's smile was becoming semi permanent. "I'm glad. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

He took one step closer to you and leaned down to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head up in such a way that you caught his lips with your own. You froze in surprise, and even more shockingly, he didn't move away. Yoongi took another step into you, so your chests were just touching. His hand went around your back to keep you steady despite intensifying the angle of your kiss. Still, it remained chaste even as it went on. His lips were hot and soft and just slightly moist, but he seemed content to press his mouth just gently to yours for another moment longer. Then his lips finally left yours, he whispered his goodnight and disappeared into the pack bedroom.

😃😃 they kissed! Who wants to scream about it?

Permanent taglist: @lilacdreams-00 @wholockian1 @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie @hellokittiesxbae @pamzn

Taglist: @ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @zariaskz @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @coralmusicblaze @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @guinhosletters @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @moon-cupcakes @passionandsuga @zvrjkb @m0v3m3ntsblog @kykyxstandler @writingwithmai @moocow778 @ladyalicesbookstore @yoonseokerist @deejay08 @momoasenthusiasticreader @littlestarstinyseven @bittersweetbaylee

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kangaracha · 3 months

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QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 9

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n i send in a job application, you get a new chapter. the world continues to go round. (i also got two skz albums for writing my application, and a bonus chan card for walking up to the counter with $150 worth of skz merch in my arms (she was like damn i wonder what group this girl likes the most what a mystery))

previous | masterlist | next

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At some point in the last two months, you'd become more used to the presence of eight boys than you'd realised.

The thought only makes the quiet air of the studio all the more oppressive as you sit on the floor, legs stretched out before you as you wait for the livestream to load. You'd spent plenty of time in here alone since joining their group, but not as much as you have in the past week, with the boys gone from the moment they woke up to the late hours of the night on schedules and promotions. It was strange to be here for twelve hours or more and not hear a single voice coming through the door, to wander up to the cafeteria for lunch and not see them, or Minseo, or even the other trainees you'd worked with for so many years, your personal rhythms no longer lining up with the regimen of classes and mealtimes and monthly evaluations, which you know are drawing close without even having to check.

Even your home is lonely, the empty rooms echoing with no voice to respond to you. You haven't had your own room since you left Australia all of six years ago. You've never had your own apartment. You're not sure you know what to do with it anymore.

The livestream erupts in a burst of noise and colourful pixels, clarifying slowly into a picture of a stage. You've missed most of the opening performances, not watching the time as you practised. You've seen them all three times this week already; you'll probably see them all again next week as well. And if you said that watching the rookie groups in the earlier stages of the show didn't make you a little bit jealous, you'd be lying, especially this of all weeks.

(If you said that watching the boys perform God's Menu didn't make you a little bit jealous, you'd be lying too, but you won't allow that thought to cross your mind.)

As if summoned by the thought of them, they flash up on the screen, one at a time, and then as a group as the stage begins; senior idols, playing top billing on a weekly show watched by millions, a position you have no business being in. And yet here you are, sitting in their studio and watching their shows and thinking that it should have been you and you've been cheated again.

A shiver that has nothing to do with the music or the sweat that clings to your skin runs down your spine. Were you just being conceited about this whole debut thing; signing this contract to join a senior group, watching other debut groups like you had the right to be out there with them, occupying this private dance studio as if it is your own space, as if you'd earned the right fair and square to leave the darker, shared spaces of the fourth floor rooms, where all the other trainees ground away at their skills with only hope in their future.

Weren't three missed debuts just three signs that you'd ignored that maybe this wasn't the life promised to you?

Your phone vibrates, a text notification from Minseo covering Felix's face. Your thumb hovers over it, the desire to ask where she is and what she's doing tugging at your breastbone. You let it slide away though; she's been at different schedules all day too, if she is even home yet, and night is drawing on quickly. You're exhausted anyway; you'd probably fall asleep in the first five minutes of a movie, or even midway through a bowl of icecream.

You need to keep practising anyway. That was the key to this debut you'd stolen off of fate; every minute of every day spent in this studio, until you made it or they dropped you. You already know how it feels to look back and see an hour or a day that could have been spent getting better, and you'd hated it; this time, even if you never debuted, no one would say that you didn't try. No one would call you lazy.

(But the wrong look was what they had said, not lazy. Just not pretty enough, just the wrong face in the wrong lineup in front of the wrong man. It was one thing to fail out of merit; it was another to fail because of the way you were born.)

TAGLIST

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 3 months

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The Rescue

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven,

Summery: She’s reserved, emotionally cut off, and spiraling down a dark path; one she can’t get out of on her own. Aaron Hotchner may be her only help, but at what cost? When he shows up to her hotel room, contact in hand, she realizes it may be more than what she bargained for.

A/N: Guys this is a very long chapter with a lot going on please put on your seatbelts, settle in, because it gets wild.

Warning: 18+ Only MDNI SMUT. Language, BDSM, Dom Aaron, emotionally detached reader, typical CM violence, childhood trauma, abusive father figure, age gap (reader 25 Aaron 40) doesn’t line up with a specific time line, use of Y/n because story is set in 3rd person for the first half then switches POV, last name for reader is Smith,

Specific Chapter Warning: R explains the trauma she dealt with as a child, SMUT. Oral (F receiving), Fingering (F receiving), Praise, Dirty talk, partially protected sex (F on the shot) Aaron has a slight breeding kink, cream pie,

Present Day

David waves one final time before slipping into his car, the parking deck of the quantico office quiet and still in the late hours. It’s nearing 12am, you’re mentally taxed, your brain begging to shut down but you can’t stop fidgeting in the passenger seat beside Aaron.

Aaron’s face is hard set, his eyes gauging your every move. “What do you want to do?” His voice is soft, filling the quiet cab, “I can take you to your neighbor’s if that would make you feel better…” There’s another option he would like to give you, his own nerves firing in overtime, afraid to let you leave his sight.

You’re staring out the window at the concrete walls, you feel hallow, like something inside your body has shattered and you’ve lost all of the important pieces. “I…” you like your lips, trying to find your voice. “Anna said she was okay with Bruce, right?”

“Yes.” Aaron draws out the word, searching for your face in the darkened glass, barely able to make out your reflection. You look torn down, the strong woman he has known chipped away to reveal a scared little girl, running from whatever darkness haunts her past. “We can go wherever you need to.”

“I’d… I just…” you take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have only been a few hours between what happened and now, and each one has been filled with flourished activity. You haven’t had time to stop and process what has happened, your brain now catching up to your body. Your head throbs slightly, the few cuts in your palms sting when you close your fists, your eyes hurt from crying so much. But the worst of it all is the war raging in your mind, the struggle of keeping it all in or letting it all out a constant battle that you seem to be losing more and more control over.

“Why don’t we take a ride?” The suggestion breaks through your thoughts, making you turn towards Aaron. His face is so soft, an expression you’ve never seen before, and you aren’t sure if you want to hate it or long for it.

“Okay…”

And so he does just that. He drives into the city, the street lights zipping by, barely illuminating dark houses and empty streets. Aaron drives with no real destination in mind, taking random turns, navigating the roads as you sit in silence. Eventually one of his hands come to rest beside your thigh, the flash of light on his watch catching your attention.

It’s a reminder.

An offer.

Salvation.

An hour passes in stark silence before you take your first deep breath, the noise loud in the small space. “Thank you… for saving me.” You force your voice to steady out, grappling for the mask you so carefully constructed all those years ago to shield the rubble of your true form.

“Do not thank me.” Aaron responds, rolling to a stop at a traffic light. You’re unfamiliar with this part of town, but it looks like a nice area with large lawns and small houses. “I just want you to talk to me.”

Your lips press together, glancing down at his large hand. Slowly you let your own hand slip off of your lap, tentatively touching his pinky with yours.

“I… it’s hard… and messy.” You whisper, watching how his fingers twitch but he makes no move to take your hand.

“I understand… but please, let me help you.” The light above suddenly cascades the car in neon green, and Aaron’s drives on, his face stoney and a twinge of desperation in his voice.

You turn your gaze back to the window with a deep breath, the cracks in your soul widening as you speak.

“I… I had a fairly normal childhood when I was younger. Very typical suburban family, my mother stayed home with me while my father worked at a mechanic shop. Happy, picturesque family…” You swallow thickly, choking on the pressure building in your chest. “I was 8 when my mom died… she was hit by a drunk driver and my dad just… he couldn’t handle it. He loved her so much that when she died he snapped. He started drinking and I… he would drink so much that I would find him passed out for hours on end and I was still just a child…”

A dark bitter laugh leaves your lips, shaking your head as you lean back into the seat. “Then one day he seemed to wake up. Instead of being mad at the world and God, things that felt no retribution from his anger, he decided that he needed something that would. Me. The night she died she was on the way home from seeing her mother. It was so late but I missed her, she had been gone for two days. I begged her to come home.”

You can still see that night vividly when you closed your eyes, the old house filled with police officers, the broken sound of your father’s begging screams. The female officer who had taken you to your room to explain that your mother would not be coming home as she sat with you on the floor surrounded by coloring books and stuffed animals.

“He told me my emotions caused everything. That if I had just sucked it up and been strong she would still be with us. He made me believe it, and… I still do to this day. From that moment on he had decided to train me to be better.”

Your fingers inch farther across Aaron’s knuckles, and finally he flips his palm, lacing your fingers through his. The feeling of him squeezing your hand settles your rolling stomach.

“Our house was a fixer upper, the guest bathroom had never been completed so my dad… painted over the small window, put foam over the gaps to the door and threw me in. I…” Your grip tightens, your throat restricting. You look over at Aaron’s normally stoic face and see barely restrained rage. “Hours and hours I’d spend in that room…. As I grew older it grew worse. He’d keep me from school… have me do everything my mother used to do. Clean, make all the meals, laundry. By the time high school rolled around I had missed so much school CPS has been called. The case was dropped in an instance because my dad charmed the woman over, said I was a run away most of the time since my mother died.”

Aarons grip on the wheel is white knuckled, his lips pressed into a hard line as he focuses on the road ahead. “I was beat with a belt that night. It gave me the courage to leave though. From that moment on I worked my ass off to get here… I just… I didn’t want there to be another kid like me… I know what my father did was wrong but it’s so ingrained in my head that every emotion I let slip through could be my undoing, could be the reason the next bad thing happens to me or those I care for… I can’t… I can’t let that happen again.”

You glance over to Aaron, who’s silence is becoming unnerving as his thumb strokes over your own. Finally he pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles for a long moment before he speaks.

“I’m sorry. I know those words do little for what you have been through… I also know you don’t want to be pitied, and I’m not going to do that. You are extremely strong, Y/n. You have over come something that most people would let consume their lives, steer them to destitution.” He licks his lips and glances your way briefly, noting the solemn look on your face. “You know my opinion on your emotions, and I think you’re wrong about believing they can only bring you harm or failure. You’ve done so much involving them already you just haven’t realized it yet.

You have accomplished things that others only dream of, you alone and no one else. Your father played no role in this, he didn’t train you to become the woman you are, that was there all along. And I know deep in my heart that your mother is watching you with pride.” Your heart, the damaged organ that it is, swells from the praise and the thought of your mother. Your eyes burn and you’re surprised you have anything left to let out. But then again it’s years of buildup all coming to a head.

“Is he the reason for these?” Aaron gestures to your thigh, and you nod slightly.

“He threw me into the bathroom once and some of the tiles were broken… I can’t really feel the area anymore but I have what I guess you would call a phantom pain every now and again.”

Aaron brings your hand back for another gentle kiss, the delicate action such a contrast to the gleam of fury in his dark eyes. “My brave girl.” And for whatever reason, those three words break you. Maybe it’s because Aaron is seeing you, and not a facade, maybe it’s the perception of the fact that you are brave, or maybe it’s the simple claim that indicates so much more than ownership.

Comfort.

Safety.

Someone to rely on when you need it the most.

You clamp your other hand over your mouth as you sob, leaning into his shoulder as you feel everything fall into you all at once. Letting another person hold the weight of your world for just a little bit.

Aaron turns into a parking lot, into the first spot he can find before killing the engine and wrapping you in a tight hug. The consul is digging into your ribs, his hold is a little suffocating, but you bury your face into his chest anyways.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are you sure?”

Once you had finally calmed down Aaron offered you his guest room for the night. You were an hour away from home but only 20 minutes from his. After a long moment of hesitation you agreed, much to his visual relief. But now standing in front of his door you feel your reservations creeping back in.

“I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” He pushes the door open and steps into a dark room. Your breath unintentionally hitches, your eyes scanning the deep darkness until light floods the area. “I have a security system installed. We will get you the same one for your home.”

The beeping of the alarm would have went completely unnoticed had Aaron not said anything as he fiddles with the control panel on the other wall. He turns once it goes silent, watching you as you linger in the doorway, doubt and fear waging in your eyes as you scan over his simply furnished apartment.

“It’s okay. I promise.”

He’s warm reassurance makes you feet ease into the room, the door shutting firmly behind you. You’re entire body is rigid, arms slung around your center like you’re holding yourself together with your own white knuckled grip. Aaron bites his lip slight before stepping closer, gesturing to the rooms behind him.

“What would you like to do? Are you hungry?”

You tug slightly at your necklace, opening your mouth only to find the words are stuck deep in your throat.

“Y/n?” He steps closer and your eyes snap to his.

“I… I don’t know what I want to do… my head is pounding and I just… I can’t figure it out, I can’t decide.” Your stare is helpless, eyes flickering back and forth between his brown ones. It’s your way of asking for his help without letting the words out because if you do you’re scared of what you will become after that.

Something in his face shifts, it’s ever so slight but you can see it in the way he shrugs out of his coat, tossing it on the back of the couch. You can see it in the way his shoulders roll back and the lines around his eyes soften. “I know baby.” He closes the distance between you, cupping your face between burning hands and you physically feel the tension draining from your jaw. “Let’s get you cleaned up okay? We will go from there.”

Aaron leads you through the apartment, flicking on the lights as he goes, he walks you into his bedroom, a space as simply furnished as the rest of his home; and towards his joint bathroom. “Why don’t you wash your hands and I’ll find you something to wear to bed?”

Even though he is phrasing everything as a question you know he’s giving you the guidance you need, not making you over think or pick what needs to be done first. You nod your head and he gives you a soft smile before ducking out of the restroom.

You glance at your hands, the nurses had cleaned your hands enough to remove the shards of glass but there is still blood caked between your fingers and under your nails. Turning on the water you test the temperature before easing your hands under the flow. A soft hiss leaves your lips at the sting but you find yourself leaning into it.

You don’t notice Aaron standing in the doorway, watching as your hands tremble under the steaming water. “Here.” You jump faintly at the sudden rasp of his voice, finding him in the mirror.

He steps by you, his hand skimming your waist and your attention zeros in on the touch. Aaron grabs a rag from the shelf over the toilet, gently pushing you from in front of the sink. He wets the rag and turns to you, reaching for your hands without another word and begins to wipe away the blood and grime.

His hands hold yours softly, and you never knew he could be so gentle. Your eyes can’t leave his face, the concentration making lines appear between his brow, his eyes squinting slightly.

Aaron glances up at the feeling of you watching him and your cheeks flush, having been caught but still unable to look away. Once finished with your hands he rinses the rag, cupping your face once more as he runs the rough material over your cheek, cleaning away the stains of makeup.

Your eyes flutter, something in your body thrumming to life with each swipe of the cloth. “Aaron…” You don’t even mean to say his name, the syllables just fall so easily from your lips and he stills, eyes boring into yours.

“Sweet girl.” He breathes back, and your insides twist sharply. The tension is undeniable, the feeling of him so close forcing your body to react. You inch closer, your eyes dropping to his lips, watching as a smile curves the corner of his mouth.

The rag falls to the counter, his hands pulling you in the rest of the way. You’re nearly on your tiptoe, your hands finding his arms to steady yourself. He brushes a soft kiss against your lips and you whimper, the sound high in your throat and he breaks, deepening the kiss with hunger.

Electricity shoots through your body, pinging off of every nerve, setting them all ablaze. His hands move to your waist, bunching up your shirt until his palms meet your warm skin, and you shudder at the feeling. Aaron moans, the sound deep in his chest and you whimper as it travels through your bones straight to your core.

Pressing you backwards, Aaron walks you out of the restroom, hands wandering the plains of your back. You stumble against him, letting him lead you to the bed where the backs of your knees brush the king sized mattress. Your heart pounds in your chest, but when Aaron breaks the kiss to look down at you, he finds no hesitation in the dewy set of your eyes.

“Can I?” His voice is husky as he tugs at your sweater and you offer a small nod. He kisses you again, knocking the air from your lungs as he helps you pull your arms free, backing away to slip the cotton over your head and throw it to the floor. You’re in nothing fashionable, a simple black t-shirt bra but the hunger in his gaze is undeniable. “You’re so beautiful.”

Your hands find his chest, going for the buttons of his white shirt only for Aaron to grab your wrists, pulling your hands to his lips to kiss your palms. “Aaron I…”

“Do you know how hard it was to work today? Knowing you’re just a few feet away from me?” You shake your head, swaying slightly on your feet. “All I was able to think about was you. How your lips taste, how you moan my name, the way you looked underneath me in the morning.”

All of those things felt like a lifetime ago, and as his teeth nipped your skin just over the pulse in your wrist, you realize you would do anything to relive it. “I need you.” Your voice is a desperate, soft plea; your eyes alight with need making his lips curl.

“Then let me take care of you.” He whispers, his grip tightening slightly. You lick your lips, his gaze darting down for a breath before snagging your eyes again, there’s so much lust and need swirling in the depths of his brown irises that you find yourself lost in them. “Let me show you how you deserve to be treated, princess.”

“Please.” It’s a soft breath of a word, but it’s all that’s needed.

Aaron kisses you so forcefully that you’re sure your lips will be bruised, but you don’t have time to care as he suddenly pushes you. The bed springs squeak under the sudden impact of your body, the air leaving your lungs in one big whoosh. Aaron’s fingers expertly pop the button of your jeans, and your blood buzzes with excitement as you lift your hips, helping him pull them down and off your legs, taking your shoes and socks with them.

There’s something about the way he is suddenly above you, still fully dress in his work clothes where as you’re laid out scarcely clad in your underwear set, with nothing to hide behind. It’s a display of dominance that sends a rush of wet heat to your center.

Aaron smiles down at you, his hands making their way up your thighs, spreading your legs for you to display the soaked gusset of your grey panties. The moan that rips from his throat makes your stomach clench, your teeth impaling the pink flesh of your lip.

“You are all I have been able to think about,” He whispers, his fingers curling into the band of your panties as he moves to his knees. “And now I finally get to have you.” Aaron pulls your panties down your trembling thighs, laying you bare before him as he slips one of your legs over his shoulder.

His warm breath fans over your soaked lips, your vision going hazy as you prop yourself on an elbow to see. He looks sinful between your thighs, dark eyes looking up at you through darker lashes, his hair tussled, jaw hanging open slightly. The anticipation makes your stomach swoop and the breath in your lungs freeze.

You’re given no warning before he ducks his head, his tongue licking a fat stripe from your entrance and catching on your clit. You gasp at the sensation, your head falling back against the bed. Aaron wraps his arm around your thigh, holding you still as he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, your legs threatening to squeeze his skull.

“Oh fuck…” You moan, your hand finding his short hair and tugging almost painfully, back leaving the bed. Aaron smiles against you, his teeth nipping at your folds before he lazily fucks his tongue into your dripping hole. “Oh god, Aaron…”

“You taste so fucking sweet.” His arm tightens on your thigh, his other hand tracing patterns on the inner skin of the other. You squirm at the feeling, your eyes pinched shut as waves of arousal roll through your body. Aaron’s dark eyes travel up the expanse of your body, seeking your face but he can only see the way your chest rises and falls with each gasping breath, your head tossed back as noises of pleasure fill the room.

His cock pulses in the tight confines of his slacks, the need to feel your wet heat wrapped around his aching member nearly driving him insane.

“Fuck, please Aaron…” You aren’t sure what you are begging for as your orgasm begins to swell under your skin, pulling your muscles taught. A part of you wants to feel embarrassed at how easily he has been able to bring you to the brink, but the sounds of his moans between your legs quickly floods the thought out.

“Cum for me baby, make a mess on my face.” It’s dirty and mind reeling all at once, your jaw going slack as your hips grind up to meet his mouth. Aaron slips two fingers to your opening, gathering the combination of slick and spit before easing into you.

A soft whimper accompanies the sudden intrusion, your hips undulating to take more of his thick digits as your orgasm creeps ever closer. He sets a steady rhythm, slow and deep that leaves stars dancing around your vision and with one final swirl of his tongue as his fingers curl into that spongy spot deep in your walls you break.

Your orgasm rips through your body like a bolt of lightening. Your limbs lock and your back bows up, your lips form a perfect ‘O’ as waves of pleasure crash over you.

“That is, that’s my good girl.” Aaron praises, keeping his pace steady as you moan his name like a prayer. It’s a few more seconds until your body collapses back onto the bed, your fingers falling from his hair taking a strand or two with them. Aaron pulls away, standing back up licking your slick from his fingers with a grumbling groan.

Climbing back up your body he creates a trail of kisses that leave you feeling hot and desperate, a distinct emptiness between your legs as he settles over you. Aaron cups the back of your head, lifting you to meet his bruising kiss. The tangy taste of yourself is heavy on his tongue as he explores your mouth, your still trembling hands finding his back and pulling him closer.

The hard ridge in his slacks presses against your heated, slick core, grinding slowly. You whimper into his mouth, hands trialing up his back, scratching at his shirt. You break away with a gasp. “To… too many clothes.” Going for the small plastic buttons Aaron lets out a soft laugh as your fumble over them.

“Easy princess. All you had to do was ask.” He sits back on his heels, your legs draped over his thighs and you watch mesmerized as his fingers easily work the buttons free, revealing his chest full of dark hair. You manage to twist your arm behind your back, freeing the clasp of your bra and quickly throwing it somewhere in the floor to join the growing pile.

Aaron groans at the sight of you, his mouth watering as he thinks of every spot he wants to cover with bites and bruises. Starting with your breasts. He leans over you, snagging your wrists and pinning them to the bed.

You bite your cheek, surprised that you welcome the weight of him above you, that you like the feeling of him pinning you down, leaving you to his mercy. You find your mind slipping more, every worried thought falling into some unreachable place that can remain in the dark.

Clearing his throat lightly, Aaron licks his lips. “Maybe I should have asked this sooner but… when was the last time you were with someone.?”

An awkward but none the less important question to ask, even if he is seated between your trembling thighs, staring down at your naked body.

A new flush spreads over your cheeks and you shift against the bed, against the hold he has on your wrists. “I… I was in high school.”

A moment of shock steals his features before he can school his face back. “Do you take birth control?”

You squirm again, chewing the inside of your cheek as his thumbs rub over your galloping pulse. “I.. Every three months I go get a shot. It’s better than taking a pill every day that I might forget.” You explain weakly, searching his face.

Aaron nods, shifting his weight on his knees, his cold belt buckle pressing into your thigh. “I can always grab a condom if that makes you feel better.” One hand leaves your wrist but you don’t dare move as he places it on your lower tummy, spreading wide. “But I have to admit, the idea of fucking you full of me is very, very exciting.” Your breath catches, eyes widening and Aaron’s grin turns devilish. “You think so too.”

All you can do is nod slightly, a thrill working through your body that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end, gooseflesh cascading over your skin.

Sitting back, Aaron releases you completely to fiddle with his belt. The brown leather hisses through the belt loops and when he stands he takes his pants and boxers down in one swoop. Your eyes instantly fall to the hard member standing up between his legs and your thighs clench.

His cock is long and thick, the dark hairs at the base trimmed neatly like the rest of him. A few veins run along his shaft, the prominent one on the underside pulsing slightly. He takes himself in his hand, pumping once, twice, to relieve some of the ache, the mushroom head a light shade of pink.

You whimper at the sight of him, the need in your belly almost painful. “Aaron… I want you.” Your voice is sultry, your eyes glazed over when you finally look at his face. He smiles crookedly as he slinks back onto the bed, his eyebrow cocked.

“You can have me, princess. Every part of me is yours.” The words scorch through your chest right to the very center of your soul and you find your legs falling apart, your hands still gripping the sheets above your head. “Come here.” Instead of covering you with his body, Aaron lays down beside you, turning you so you lay on your side as well.

“What?” He pulls your back flush to his chest, his hand slipping over your thigh and dragging your leg on top of his. You whimper when you feel the smooth heat of his cock glide through your wet folds, your back instinctively arching into him.

Aaron’s arm tucks under your head, his other hand free to roam your body as he rocks his hips, slipping his cock between your folds with ease, gathering your slick. “So wet baby, so ready for me aren’t you?” He breathes, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. You whine and press your head back into his shoulder, exposing your neck more. “That’s my girl. Are you going to let me mark you up? Show everyone just who you belong to?”

You nod without a thought in your head, “Y-yes… please Aaron.” He smiles against your skin before nipping the delicate area, turning the skin a deep shade of red as he closes his lips over the spot. You moan loudly, rocking your hips back against his, the steady glide of his cock bumping into your clit driving you wild.

“So fucking pretty.” He whispers and you force yourself to turn your head and look at him. When you do your heart jumps to your throat, his hooded eyes burn with lust but there’s something else swirling just below the surface, something that makes your head groggy and your body melt into his.

“You belong right here.” His voice is deep and rough and it makes your jaw slacken. Your chest squeezes, butterflies erupting in your stomach, beating at you with their wings as his hips draw back. The round head of his cock presses against your entrance, his hand tightening on your hip. “I’m going to enjoy every moment of watching you come undone for me.” He presses forward, stretching you around him and your nails dig into his forearm with a whine. Aaron’s gaze never wavers from yours, caught in the depths of your irises. “Then every moment of piecing you back together.”

Leisurely Aaron rocks his hips, slipping deeper and deeper into your wet heat. Every inch has your back arching, the ridges and bumps rubbing along your walls in the most perfect way. Your eyes slip nearly shut, your breath puffing across his pink lips and your only awareness is of Aaron. How his muscles bunch under your hand, how your body sticks to his from the heat radiating between you both, how his fingers dig into your flesh guiding your hips back to meet his as he sinks home.

Never have you felt this full, the stretch burns and it boarders on painful but you wouldn’t want it any other way. Ecstasy skirts down Aaron’s spine, making his own groan slip free and his cock twitch. You jump at the feeling, your breath wheezing in your lungs and he smiles, repeating the motion.

“Aaron… oh fuck.” It’s all you can manage, head falling back into the crevice of his shoulder, one arm wrapping up around his that pillows your head. His name is a soft, sweet beg and it has Aaron’s stoicism crumpling.

“Tell me what you need, princess. I’ll give you everything.” His breath is warm against your ear, your eyes starting to water for reasons you can’t explain the longer he stays seated inside you. His hand continuously strokes your side as you fight for your words, kisses littering your jaw as the seconds pass.

“I need… I need you to move, Aaron.”

There isn’t a chance in hell he would make you beg twice, slowly he pulls back, ensuring you feel every part of him before pushing back in. Your jaw drops, uninhibited moans falling past your lips at the steady rhythm he sets. Aaron slips his hand to your cheek, caressing you with his thumb in time to each deep thrust. “You take me so well, my cock was made just for you wasn’t it?”

It consumes your body like a wild fire, burning intense and bright, cracking through your skin which each grind of his hips. You cling to him where you can, your eyes rolling back into your skull, and he uses the opportunity to turn your face back to his. Aaron kisses you with no sense of urgency, no rush to throw you to the end, he claims your mouth the same way he claims your body; with a measure of patience and understanding that leaves you reeling.

You break away first, moaning his name and his hand travels down your neck, cupping your heavy breast as his lips find your neck. His long fingers toy with your pebbled nipple, sparks flying into your stomach with each pinch and roll. Your leg tightens around his thigh, your breath coming faster as your body arches into his touch.

“I’m… fuck I’m going to cum.” You breath into the warm air, your cunt fluttering around his cock rhythmically.

“Cum for me, take what you need and cum all over my cock.” Aaron’s rhythm doesnt falter in the slightest, the pump of his cock hard and slow hitting spots you’d never dreamt of finding. His hand leaves your breast, trailing down your stomach slowly circling your belly. You moan at the feeling, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin. “This little part right here, this part of your beautiful belly, drives me mad.” His hand presses down into your lower stomach slightly and you see stars at the sudden pressure, feeling his cock against rubbing against your muscles. “Imagining you heavy and round-.” Aaron groans as your cunt tightens, your breath uneven like the sudden stutter in your hips. “Pregnant with my baby.”

A guttural version of his name leaves your lips as you snap in two. The fire inside your body turning into an inferno, consuming you entirely as you cling helplessly to Aaron. Your head is flush with his shoulder, your foot hooked around his leg as your pussy spasms and coats his cock with cream. Aaron’s pace suddenly falters and he moans loudly, the feeling of your velvet walls clamping down around him nearly his undoing.

Slowly you drift back to yourself, gasping for air and shuddering as the aftershocks rock through you. You lick your lips, about to say anything when suddenly Aaron is pressing you forward, rolling you onto your front. He slips free of your pussy and you whimper, letting him adjust your pliant body to his needs. With your chest pressed to the bed and your ass thrust into the air Aaron groans at the sight of you. Your thighs tremble in effort to keep yourself up right, sweat gleams across your back and shoulders, flushing your skin a beautiful shade of pink. “You’re doing so good for me.” His hands graze over the globe of your ass, settling on your hips as he nudges your knees apart, adjusting your stance. You make a soft noise in your throat, fingers finding hold in the bedding. “I know baby, you’re being such a good girl though. I know you can take it, just relax for me.” Your brain hardly keeps up, picking out the important words in its state and your body melts into the mattress with a sigh. His cock aligns with your opening, teasing until you whimper, rocking back trying to impale yourself on him. Aaron smiles, sweeping your hair off of your neck and into his fist. He's gentle as he tugs at the strands, testing the waters and you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"That's it baby. Just like that." He draws out the words as he sinks into your heat. The angle is so much different than before, the head of his cock rubbing along the front wall of your cunt and you gape at the sensation. Your grip tightens on the bed as his hips become flush with your ass, giving you a moment to adjust.

"Oh fuck... Oh fuck." You mumble, electricity skimming up your spine as Aaron pulls back until only the tip is left.

"Beg for me." The words are a laced growl and you simper below him, the hold on your hair growing tighter.

"Please, please Aaron I want- I need you so bad. Please fuck me." You don't know where the words come from, somewhere deep and primal in your guts but they have never felt so right.

Aaron's hips snap forward, sinking into you at a punishing force and you cry into the air, the need and pleasure curling back into your stomach with a vengeance. To say Aaron is fucking you into the mattress is an understatement, the hold on your hip is bruising and the grip on your hair is punishing. The lewd sounds of sex fill the air, wet squelching as his cock sinks into you, the slap of skin against skin and the unmistakable moans of pleasure.

"Such a good. Fucking. Girl." He breathes, his body curving over your own, husky moans falling from his lips as he pounds into you. "Fuck baby, you're squeezing me so hard. Are you gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?"

Your head tips back a smile curving your lips at his praise and you nod what little you can. "Yeees! Oh god yes Aaron.” You hold onto the sheets with white knuckled force, your moans and gasps mixing with his grunts making an intoxicating song. He growls low in his chest, his teeth bared, sweat gleaming on his shoulders and forehead.

“I’m gonna cum Y/n… I’m gonna make you mine. Again.” A harsh thrust makes you keen, your head tilting back making your neck strain. “And again.” Another one leaves you gasping, your mouth falling open. “And again.”

You snap simultaneously, his hips slamming into your ass as you cry his name. His cock switches, painting your walls with ropes of milky cum, your cunt squeezing every last drop free as you shudder and collapse. Lights dance behind your lids, your orgasm moving through your body with such force you are scarcely aware of the moans falling from Aaron’s kiss bitten lips.

“Mine. My good girl, my pretty little thing.”

It takes a few more moments before Aaron is able to roll onto his back beside you, grunting slightly at the burn in his hips as you let out a soft moan, stretching out your soar muscles. Aaron pulls you into his side easily, wrapping an arm around your waist as your head finds his shoulder.

You both lay like that for several minutes, basking in the afterglow of it all as you try to catch your breaths. Your brain hasn’t quite caught up to your sated body, letting the euphoria and calm take the lead for a while longer.

Aaron is the first to break the soft silence. “We need to get you cleaned up.” A soft noise of protest leaves your lips, your limbs too heavy to move. A smile in his voice makes your own lips curl, “I know. But we need to. There’s going to be a lot going on tomorrow.”

With that you can’t argue, so you allowed Aaron to slip from your grip, the sound of water running in the bathroom filling the quiet. Moments later he’s back, helping you into the restroom on unsteady legs where a warm shower awaits.

When he steps in behind you, you only have a moment to be surprised before he pulls you under the stream of water. The shower is small with just enough room for the both of you, but you find no protest on your lips as Aaron begins massaging his fingers through your hair.

You sigh blissfully, letting your weight rest against his chest as he works away the agony of today, but also a little off of the mountain that has weighed you down for so long.

“I don’t care about the contact.” His deep voice is sudden making you jump slightly.

“What?”

“I don’t care about the contract.” Aaron runs his hands down to your shoulders, turning you slightly so you can gauge his face as he speaks. “I care about you, the contract was… is a piece of paper to ensure neither of us got hurt. We don’t need it.”

You scan his face, his dark eyes reading so much more than he is saying. “What… what do we do then?” Your throat works as you swallow, butterflies eating once more at your belly as Aaron cups your check.

“Whatever you would like… but… I like the idea of you coming to me with your problems, of taking care of you, of you being mine.” He curls your necklace around one of his fingers, tugging softly and a new heat flairs at the bottom of your spine. Aaron’s dark eyes scan your face, trying to read your thoughts.

“I…” You swallow, the reality hitting you. These last few days had you thrown through the wringer, forced out of your comfort zone, and brought dark secrets to light. You’ve struggled and cried and raged all while finding comfort and passion and acceptance in ways you didn’t know existed before Aaron Hotchner knocked on your door one dark morning.

You nod your head slowly, licking your lips as you run your hands up his chest, the water spilling over his shoulder and the mist sprinkling your cheeks. You press in tighter and Aaron cups the back of your head, angling it ready to capture your lips at a moment’s notice.

“I can still call you ‘Sir’?”

A large smile breaks across his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes as he cups your face, bringing you closer. "You can call me whatever you would like, little one..." His palm slips into your wet hair, tangling his fist into the strands and giving a soft tug. "As long as I get to call you mine." He laces the word with a growl and crashes his lips to yours with surprising force, need instantly flooding out the exhaustion from your system. You gasp against his lips, whimpering a soft yes as his tongue sweeps over your own.

"Good girl."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Thank you all so much, once again, for sticking with me through this story. This has been the most grueling, but rewarding thing I have written, and I am just astounded by the love it has received! I plan to make a few blurbs off of this story so fill free to check in ever now and again but if you would like to be tagged in future tidbits please feel free to leave a comment! 💜💜💜

*~*~*~*~*~*

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misguidedasgardian · 3 months

Text

The Hour of the Wolf (9)

IX. Longing

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your husband is away from you, and you are away from your husband

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats, allucinations, complications in pregnancy, arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, might miss some warnings, this chapter might contain triggering content as its features threats to a pregnant woman, from someone who is supposed to be deceased, ghost much? jeje

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3,7 k

Notes: I really want to think Northerners are not like they were portrayed in the last seasons of the Got shitshow. I did not check this for errors, I'm so excited to post it jeje sorry

It felt like your baby knew, as soon as Cregan left, you started showing, you had been married to Cregan for more than six moons, but it was complicated to tell which of all those numerous times he bed you did the trick, but the Maester believed you were almost four moons now

Further than you expected

But also, as Cregan left, you felt terribly lonely, especially at night, your treacherous mind would draw sinister figures in the corner of your vision. You had trouble sleeping, only able to do so if there was at least one fire lighten in your room

You didn’t want to feel like this, you really didn’t, you wanted to be relaxed, for your child’s sake

But it was proven really difficult, your tricky eyes would draw shapes of people in corners that were not really there, when you turned too quickly or even in the corner of your eye. You besides dealing with issues of a healing Kingdom, you wanted to keep your mind busy

“Have you seen Vhaelar flying over the city this past week?”, you asked Ser Arryk

“No, your grace”, he informed dutifully, as he was commanded to keep an eye on your dragon

“I want to see her”, you inform him, he looked at your belly doubtfully, but when he looked back into your eyes, and the decision made, he didn’t question you, he just nodded

“I’ll get the dragon keepers and some of the guards to escort you, your grace”, he said and almost ran to fulfill the command

You could feel how nervous they were as you were walking dangerous steps amongst the coast of King’s Landing.

You had put on your riding gear, even though you weren’t sure you were going to actually take a fly, but it is the only “suit”, that allowed you to wear pants without looking strange, and boots so you won’t slip in the rock and hurt yourself

Vhaelar never liked the Pit, and now that it was mainly destroyed, she nested in the cliffs near the castle

You could hear her even before you saw her, you looked back at your escort and they stopped moving to allow you to get close to the huge cavern she rested in

“Vhaelar!”, you called, and you hear her acknowledgement in form of a more soft growl, you placed your hand on your belly excitedly, as you took a torch a dragon keeper offered you and walked inside

The cavern was huge, dark and moist, humid, it hit you like a slap, the smell of hundred of dead animals, burnt, devoured by your huge dragon

it was an issue, before you paid farmers for cattle and the cattle was taken to the Dragon Pit to feed the dragons, but now that Vhaelar roamed freely, it was harder to paid the farmers back for their troubles, but the crown did

Vhaelar’s huge head appeared in front of you

“Rytsas, ñuha dōna riña, emagon ao issare ruaragon?”, [Hello, my sweet girl, have you been hiding here?]

“issa verdagon iā lenton, aōha dārōñe”, [She is nesting, your Grace], muttered a brave Dragonkeeper that followed you inside, you looked back over your shoulder, he was one that knew Vhaelar and how to interact with her, so she didn’t even move a muscle

“verdagon iā lenton?“,[Nesting?], you asked, excitedly, the man nodded, your hand went to your belly, you looked back at your dragon and you found her huge golden eyes looking down at your belly, and then at you

“ñuha dōna riña”, [My sweet girl], you whispered, placing your hand in her snout, and petter her until she purred almost

Your dragon was going to lay a clutch of eggs, or egg, for your baby, they were right, there was a special connection between dragon and rider, you smiled warmly at the very thought. It also wasn’t strange, there was still some dragons in Dragonstone, the Cannibal for example, dragons she can mate with.

This had certainly lightened up your mood for the rest of the day, as your guards were relieved that you decided against taking a short flight.

Vhaelar was to be left alone if she was indeed nesting

It is indeed a wonder she didn’t burn you to a crisp

But now… as soon as you entered the castle, you felt like a dark cloud was on top of you and wouldn’t let go

Cregan had done all he could to make the place nice for you again, there was a few weeks in which he would walk by your side and watch you carefully, everything you looked at and flinch, he would change for something else, all the tapestries and furniture, all of it, he would trade it for others, he even went as far as commissioning paintings from Lys to change the colors of the rooms

But still, it was still an impregnable fortress. Designed to not let anyone in… or out…

You tried to go about your day, but it didn’t take long, as the sun was hiding, for the shadows to start taking shapes.

Oh how you wished Cregan was there with you

You placed your hand in your belly

Cuddling you every night, placing his big hand on your belly like you were doing now, to feel your unborn child

Protecting you, making the shadows go away

You dismissed your ladies as soon as they took out your dress, and you put on your night shirt. You felt skittish about people touching you in your condition, you felt like you were cheating on Cregan somehow, by letting someone else touch your pregnant body.

You got on the bed, and drifted off to sleep strangely quickly

You woke up in the middle of the night, without apparent reason, you didn’t remember what you were dreaming about, but you woke up distraught, relieved that you actually woke up… and even a bit disoriented… and then… when you looked in the corner of the room.

You gasped, a tall figure was there, with his usual pose, hand grasped behind his back, standing up really straight, his long hair combed to perfection, his eyepatch seemingly cutting his face in half, his remaining violet eye looking at you, with malicious intent

Aemond was there, a smirk on his lips.

“Aemond? you are dead”, you whined, your hand on your belly protectively. In a quick movement he unsheathed his dagger hanging from his belt and made the knife dance in his hand

Why him? of all of them, why was he presenting himself in front of you like this? because it's probably a dream, it couldn’t be real, he was dead! He was dead, well, they never found his body but he was dead, Daemon took him out with him in an incredible battle over the God’s Eye

Then you saw it

Dark sister, the sword, hanging from his belt

“You would like me to be, wouldn’t you?”, he asked, his eye then traveled down your body to your small baby bump. He chuckled darkly as he saw your protective stance

“My my, my little bastard having bastards of her own”

“He is not going to be a bastard”, you defended, “I’m married”, he chuckled again

“Oh yes, married and ruling the seven Kingdoms… Would you look at my pretty little bastard niece, how far she’s come”

Your breathing got heavy, you tried to sit on the bed, you did so slowly, your eyes never leaving his form

This couldn’t be real, he wasn’t here, this was some sick nightmare

But why does the hot tear that fell down your cheek felt so real?

“What are you doing here?”, you asked shakily, still, not being able to believe your own eyes, this felt way too real to be a dream, but it had to be, right?

Right?

He was quick on his feet, he had always been and he ran towards you who couldn't get out of bed and grabbed you by the neck, the dagger still on his hands

“Guards!”, you screamed but nobody came to your rescue

“Is of no use”. he mocked, shaking you, you only could grab into his wrist, your other hand still protecting your belly from his anger, “nobody will come to save you. not even your idiotic husband”, he mocked then

“Cregan!”, you cried, as he could hear you, but you had sent him away, thousand miles away

He chuckled darkly

“Nobody is coming”, he threatened, “this feels like just old times, doesn’t it?”, he kept teasing, mocking you, provoking you, he didn’t squeeze, but he had you on a chokehold, you wouldn’t move as he threatened your cheek with his blade, “me, sneaking into your rooms, late at night”

“Fuck you”, you grunted, “nothing ever happened, you just wanted to torment me”, you recalled

“Mhm, just like now”, he purred, he really hasn't changed since the last time you saw him, the dinner? was it? He looked older, perhaps, more tortured

“What do you want?”, you whined

“You dead, me sitting on the Iron Throne, as is my right, bastard”

“They will never take you”

“They took you, didn’t they?”, he mocked, squeezing. You whined, scared not of him, but for your babe, your unborn child

“My baby”, you whined

“Ah, don’t worry, I’ll carve it out and leave it for the Stark to find if it concerns you such”, now you whined and twisted in the bed

“No! my baby, he isn’t at fault!”, you were growing desperate, you looked to the side and found a heavy looking chandelier in the night table by your bed, at arm’s reach, you tried to grab it, making it drop to the floor with a loud “clang”, he then squeezed, tighter, and tighter, until you couldn’t breath, you thrashed and pushed but he wouldn’t let go… and everything went black

You woke up taking a huge breath, like you had been shaken awake

You look at all directions, scared out of your mind

Gods… were you dead?

No… you were still in your room

it had all been a dream, a nightmare more like it

A horrible, gut wrenching nightmare…

Gods, what were you thinking? sending Cregan away like this?

You had been childish, keeping this important information away from your own husband, you couldn’t be like this, he was never going to let you flight up there, but… you wanted to tell him, you missed him, and even though that by your calculations he had been back home for at least a couple of weeks, you really hoped deep down, and in a very selfish way, that he’d return for you, for your unborn child.

You hated yourself for being so weak, so dependent, but… you would not live with yourself if he came back a year from now to an already grown child, his child, which he didn’t know anything about.

So you rose from the bed even before the maids got to you, took a quill to paper, and started writing a heartfelt letter to your husband. Revealing your state, telling him why you hid it from him, and promising, if he so wishes, to go visit him.

After you finished writing it, you took it to the Maester yourself to be send at the earliest convenience

If only you saw the chandelier on the floor before the maids return it to its rightful place

. . .

Cregan took a long breath as he looked down at Winterfell, he smiled brightly, it felt so good to be back home, he spurred his horse on and started galloping, he couldn’t wait no longer, he felt like a little kid

But is his own child he wanted to see

He sent word before his arrival, so it was to no surprise that the entire castle habitants were waiting for him in the courtyard

He was finally home

After a huge march, after a bloody war, after taking the freaking capital, after marrying the Queen of the seven kingdoms, after all of that… he was finally back home

“Our Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and King Consort to the Queen (Y/N) of House Targaryen, his Grace Cregan, of House Stark”, chanted a soldier and he felt goosebumps in his arms when he heard all those titles

He tried to look solemn, not like a twenty four year old who just got home after two years away, but as soon as he saw them, his family, all the solemnity went away

There, at the long steps that led inside the castle, was his sister, his bastard sister Sara, and by her side, holding her hand, was his son, Rickon. He was… so grown, taller, his face was the one of a boy, not a babe like the last time he saw him, his dark curls… his big grey ghostly eyes just like him… He looked like his mother.

He jumped off his horse and went straight for him

The boy seemed skeptical of him, but he didn’t care and he grabbed him in his arms and hugged him tightly

He was barely a boy of 6 name days

He had him so young and yet… he was his son and heir, his blood

“I missed you my boy”, he whispered against his head

“I missed you papa”, he answered, his voice choked, and still the one of a child

He released him then, and turn to his loving sister

He greeted the rest of them, all of them, he knew every face and every name still, they were his people, and before he could finally enter his home, he looked over the walls of winterfell… The gray wolf on cream and green field was no longer alone. The three headed red dragon with four legs stood by its side.

As he walked amongst the hallways he noticed that everything stood the same, like it had been for the last thousand years and it surely will be for the next 1,000.

The first thing he did was talk to the maester, to see if he had received any ravens from the capital. He couldn’t hide his disappointment, he hadn't had words from you since he left a moon ago.

But to no matter, he was home now, he needed to focus on what he was doing, he couldn’t be with you wishing he was home, and then in his home wishing he was with you. Your beautiful, golden, resented heart probably still ached for his departure, he could understand that, he read you better than you ever believed he did, he was going to give you time and write to you himself.

He called his sister Sara to his private audience room, he needed to get acquainted with everything that happened here since he left

Sara presented himself shortly after, with a silly smile on her face, now, she was his sister, not the Lady Regent of Winterfell

But as he saw her face… he sighed

“Why do I feel you are somewhat disappointed?”, he asked with a mocking tone

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, we wanted to see her”, she said with a smirk

“Her?”, he asked

“Our Dragon Queen”, Sara said with a smile, “and her Snowy dragon”, Cregan chuckled

“I wish she could hear you”

“Is she as beautiful as they say?”, she asked enthusiastically

“She is”

“Is she as strong…?”, she asked then

“She is”, he said then

“Can her dragon burn people to a crisp?”

“She can”

“She is a girl? so amazing!”, she said, “So… how are things… King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms?”, it didn’t take her long to start teasing him

“They are still working on the title, they believe the husband of an acting Queen shouldn’t be named King, but merely Prince, or something else”

“Whatever they call you, you still married the QUEEN!”, she said with her eyes wide and her smile broad. Cregan chuckled

“I did”, he said with a smile.

“Do you miss her?”, she asked then, “Is she coming here?”

“I hope so”, he said with a sad smile, “and I do miss her”

“Auw! my brother is in looove”, she teased

“It’s too early to talk like that”, he said, trying to return to his more authoritative facade

“You are married to the Queen! is actually too late to talk about love”

“We need to discuss what is happening in my Kingdom”, he said then, “I might be the king consort, but… I’m still Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North”, he said with a short smile

“Well… let’s start with the fact we don’t have any more men because after the war they decided to settle in the Riverlands…”

So as soon as he arrived home, he started the long process of audiences and meetings with his lords to attend to the most urgent matters of the North…

So as days turned to weeks, he started to worry, he send a raven to King’s Landing, communicating you of his arrival safely to his home, and asking for your well being

He wanted to see you

Perhaps he was being selfish, but… he requested your presence, perhaps you could take to the skies and visit him, it was not a strange idea, you were his wife, you were a skillful dragon rider who assisted in the war and burnt armadas to the bottom of the narrow sea. And the sunset sea like when you saved him and the rest of your small council

You could easily pay him a visit, right?

So you were expecting his answer, and he was expecting yours, two ravens sent weeks away from each other, but only one was set to arrive at their destination, not the other.

It was a few weeks until Cregan received word back from the you

The letter was vague and distant, claiming you were not going to be able to travel North due to important matters that required your attention

He couldn’t prevent feeling truly disappointed, he wanted to see you

You in turn, thought he had received your letter, and gave no answer but a request for you to travel North, without even acknowledging what it would be the greatest news for your marriage and the future of The Kingdoms, so just answered back that you couldn’t make the journey

You were heartbroken, but understood that maybe he was angry with you, and he had the reason to.

Another moon went by, and another

Cregan was teaching his son how to use the bow, that he had commissioned specially for him, when he received a letter, not from King’s Landing, but from Driftmark

A letter from the Sea Snake himself

Cregan found it amusing, and was truly curious about what Lord Corlys may want

Searching for a way in? most likely

Did he want to propose a union between their houses? Did he have a young girl he wanted to present for his son’s hand?

But Cregan never would have expected the news that came inside that letter

He was livid

Why had Corlys Velaryon written to him, congratulating him for the unborn prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne?

Why would he be expressing his concern, chiding him as he was a child, of the dangers of his absence by his wife’s side?

Why was that nosy old bastard expressing his concern for the wellbeing of the royal marriage?

You were pregnant…

… With his child…

… You didn’t tell him…

… He was half the continent away…

What was he thinking? leaving you like this, without making sure you were not with child?

Why didn’t you tell him?

Why did you hide this from him?

You could have known after he left, but the thing is, you didn’t write to tell him…

What were you thinking?

Allowing yourself to be left alone in these circumstances?

He called in Sara immediately

“Make preparations, I need to leave for King’s Landing as soon as possible”

“Did something happen?”, she asked, alarmed

“The Queen is heavy with child, my child, I did not know, I have to be with her by her side…”

“When do you want to leave?”, she asked, concerned

“As soon as possible”

“The preparations will take weeks”

“I’m aware, I will take Rickon with me too”

“Really?”, she asked, concerned, “But Cregan, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell”, he smiled, sliding a large parchment over the table towards her

“It’s going to be you”

It was a decreet, to make her legitimate, signed by you

He was going to return south, to you, and he was going to take his son with him, even though he didn’t think it was going to be a good idea, for his son to be influenced like this, but still, he wanted you to meet him, and if you were not going to come to him, he was going to take his son to you

Perhaps, he didn’t think he was going to be able to leave him again, not after everything, not after missing two years of his short life

Adding to the stress and problems he had at home, now he had to add his unruly wife, who hid her pregnancy from him, and a unruly Lord, who purposefully send him that letter with ill intent, passively revealing against them

Corlys Velaryon was acting with a spoiled child whom his parents paid no attention anymore

What was he to do with him?

What were you going to do with him?

As he looked out the windows of his rooms to the vast valley in front of him, his home, he couldn’t help but release a single tear that fell from his cheek.

He was overwhelmed, now sad, that you mistrusted him so much, you must truly hate him to keep your pregnancy from him

He was now himself divided, South and North, Lordship or Crown, his son or you and his unborn child

A child that was going to be the next Queen or King of the Seven Kingdoms…

and his people needed him too, so much, they were also healing from the war, and losing a great percentage of his male population.

But he then smiled

Oh his child, his unborn child, a baby, made from you and him…

He couldn’t help but giggle a bit

Despite your beautiful, but resentful heart, oh he couldn’t wait to see you all fat for him, because of him, because of your and his child

@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos @brakingboundaries @duds31 @@persophonekarter @missusnora @aleemendoza2425-blog

#misguidedhour #cregan stark x oc #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark #cregan #hbo house of the dragon #targaryen!oc #targaryen!reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house stark

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hheaven-sentt · 3 months

Text

healing

summary: healing wounds you couldn't even see | leon kennedy x reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: yearning and pining, depictions of injuries and first aid, leon being weirdly chill, softness

notes: i like dis one | ao3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sense the knock before you hear it. You’re curled up on the couch, a few files spread out on the coffee table that you’d been pursuing for the last few hours. You’d grown bored with them, opting to stare out the window as the traffic down below on the street began to disperse and disappear. It was growing close to half past two in the morning. Which is why you almost expect the knock. It comes at exactly 2:18, and you practically jump off the couch to answer the door. Eagerness oozes from your skin.

He’s leaning against the wall, propped up with a single arm while the other cradles his stomach. With a sigh, he looks up at you, bright blue eyes looking a little more glassy than normal. A breath gets caught in your throat.

“Leon?” you ask, reaching forward to help him into the apartment. He grins up at you from his bent position.

“Sorry about the mess, sweetness,” he chokes out. He’s hurt, badly. You haul him into the apartment and set him up on the couch.

“I need you to count to ten and back out loud while I look for the first aid kit,” you say. He huffs a laugh. “I mean it, Leon. I need to know you’re still awake,”

Rolling his eyes, he says, “One,”

You smile as he continues counting, and begin your search for the kit. You find it just as he hits six for the second time, and you’re back in front of him as he reaches three. Crouching between his spread knees, you hoist the hem of his shirt up to see where the blood is seeping from. You grimace as you take in the injury. It’s a red and angry slash from his hip toward his sternum. You’re unsure of how deep.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” you ask, digging through the box for something to wipe away the excess blood with. He groans when you lay your hands on him the first time, and you have to remind yourself that he’s hurt and not enjoying this.

“Wasn’t paying attention,” he hisses between teeth. You’re threading the needle for his stitches. “Guess I should’ve been, huh?”

You shake your head. “You’re not reckless, Leon. What happened?”

He lets out a low whine as you sink the needle beneath his flesh. “Got distracted, thought I saw something I didn't,”

You know you won’t get a more direct answer out of Leon, so you don’t press for one. Instead, you continue sewing up his wound. “You see a medic, a doctor, anyone other than me?”

He laughs. “No, sweetness. No one’s as gentle as you,”

You try to fight the blush on your cheeks, and you’re thankful for the half dark room. He groans again as you tighten his freshly finished stitches. You spread an alcohol wipe across the suture, and you hear him let out a strained breath. Gingerly, you run your fingers over it.

“If it’s not better in two days, I order you to go to a real doctor and get antibiotics,” you say. “I can’t guarantee it won’t get infected,”

Slowly, he nods and lowers his shirt. You take the bloody part of it between your thumb and forefinger, contemplating on whether or not you should offer him another shirt. When you pull away your hand and see the transfer of red on the pads of your fingers, you frown.

“Need another shirt?” you ask. He grins. “I’m sure I’ve got something for you,”

You help him off the couch carefully, eyeing the way he favors his right leg. You draw your brows together, but don’t press him on the matter. Instead, you lead him to your bedroom where you force him to sit on your bed while you dig through your drawers for a shirt from a long forgotten boyfriend or something your brother left when he was last here. You find an old shirt you’d stolen from your dad at the bottom of a random drawer. It’s black and huge; when you wear it, it goes past your knees. It’ll do, you decide.

“Here,” you say, passing the shirt to him. He takes it. “You’re more than welcome to shower, but call for me if you can’t reach somewhere. Do not tear those stitches because I won’t redo them, Leon,”

Heat creeps up your neck as you say it, and you see the faintest amount of pink coloring Leon’s cheeks, but he nods and attempts to stand. It’s a slow process, but he does it on his own. As he passes you to head into the bathroom, he stops for a second, looking at you in the dim light illuminating half your face. He half smiles and takes your hand in his. He gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it, and then he goes to shower.

It’s more than a want, the feeling you have for him. It’s an odd sort of craving. An itch you long to scratch and tear away your flesh at. In any other story, he’d be the villain. He’s mysteriously beautiful, ethereal in his ways. In any other story, he would break you down to your barest essentials and make you pick the pieces back up. And maybe you’d let him. He’s someone you shouldn’t share your secrets with, someone you shouldn’t care about this deeply.

Maybe he’s still the villain in this story, your story. But he’d only be the villain to everyone except for you.

You hear the water running in the bathroom. You anxiously bite your nails, pacing the living room. After a few moments, you hear the bathroom door squeak open, and you busy yourself with something to look more natural. He emerges a second later, hair still dripping as he runs the towel over it. Something lurches in your stomach, a breath catches in your throat.

He lays the towel over the back of a dining table chair. There’s something unholy about the way you look at him, something sinful. You attempt to school your features.

“Alright, sweetness?” he asks, voice low timbred and honey sweetened. You feel it in your bones.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Really worried about you,”

He smiles at this, that sort of half smile that only lifts one side of his mouth and crinkles the apple of his cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll heal,”

“Hopefully,” you chide, matching his smile. He shrugs. “Seriously, Leon. You have to swear to me that you’ll get that checked out by someone actually qualified,”

He raises his hands in surrender. “I swear,”

He takes a seat on your couch, and you move to join him. There’s something sacred about the time you share here, between the four walls of your apartment and the dust accumulating on your shelves. His arm is slung across the back of the couch, inviting you into his space. The other hand fiddles with the hem of the shirt you’ve lent him. Without thinking, you seize his hand, examining the splits and cuts surrounding his knuckles. They’re beginning to heal on their own, crusted over with scabs and skin. You run a gentle brush over them, and he twitches as you sweep across the tender skin.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, looking up to meet his eyes. You see something in them that you can’t place.

“Yeah,” he says, watching you. Then, with a breath, “Nothing I can’t handle,”

You frown. “Maybe we should get you a desk job. Come to work with me,”

He laughs, a bright sound to counteract the dim room. “If you could make that happen, I’d take it,”

You wonder if he’s telling the truth. From what you understand, he’s been doing this for a long time, longer than you’ve known him, and you’re not sure he would walk away given the opportunity. You hope that he would, but you’re not confident that he’d give it up. You’re not sure he knows how to do anything else. He squeezes your hand, bringing you back to the present.

“Sorry that I only ever seem to show up when I’m half dead,” he whispers. He phrases it like a joke, but you know he means it. You wave a hand.

“I’m getting pretty good at patching you up,” you say. “Maybe I’ll run away and become an EMT,”

He smiles softly. “You’d be good at it,”

“Don’t know if I could handle all the blood,” you say, shrugging. “It’s different with you,”

Even when he’s fully healthy, you look at him like a fresh open wound. He’s something that should scare you, make you faint, but adrenaline kicks in and you need to fix it, need to mend.

“You should get some rest,” you whisper. His mouth sets into a line, but he nods.

“I take it I’m on light duty for the foreseeable future?” he asks. You roll your eyes and move away from him.

He says a hushed goodnight, and you disappear into the dark hallway. You hear him shuffle as he gets comfortable on your couch, and a weird sense of guilt washes over you. He’d deny you if you were to offer your bed to him, you know him well enough to scratch that idea before it’s even born. Instead, you allow him his ego, and settle between the sheets.

You’re surprised that he’s still here when you wake, even more so when you see him still asleep on the couch. The blanket is pulled up to his chin, his face bent inwards so that he’s almost in a fetal position. It makes warmth radiate in your chest and you smile. You resist the urge to join him.

He wakes while you’re making coffee. You hear him shuffle around, the creak of the couch as he moves to sit upright. He lets out a low groan. You halt your work on the coffee and rush to help him. He’s about halfway to sitting when you find him, grimacing against the pain and stretch of his stitches. Gently, you pull him into a sitting position, and he looks at you with something you can’t place.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you say. He frowns. “You took a hard hit. You’re not going to heal overnight. I’m not magic,”

“I know,” he responds. You sit beside him. “Thanks for trying, though,”

You laugh. “Keep it up, and I won’t stitch you up next time,”

“We both know that’s not true,” he says, looking at you like you’re an angel. “I know you too well,”

You could kiss him, right here and now. You think, for a moment, that he might just reciprocate. Flush creeps up your neck at the thought, and you remember that he’s still looking at you.

“Where do you go?” he asks. You blink at him. “When you stare off like that. Where do you go?”

You shrug. “Just get lost in thought, I guess,”

He doesn’t pry further, just accepts the answer and remains silent. You can’t tell if you’re satisfied by that.

“What made you come here?” you ask quietly. He looks at you, studying your features. You wish you could snatch the words from where they linger in the air. Clearing your throat, you add, “The first time, I mean,”

He shrugs. “Figured you wouldn’t ask questions,”

He’d been right. You hadn’t asked questions. You’d tried to, thought about what you could possibly ask, but the idea was too daunting and he was bleeding out in your doorway. You’d hoped that stitches were as easy as they seemed.

“I’m good at keeping secrets,” you say. He smiles. “Can I share something?”

“Anything,”

“I’m glad you showed up that night. For a while, I was angry. Felt like I couldn’t wash my hands enough to scrub away the blood. But I’m glad you came,” you say, feeling short of breath. He’s staring at you, and you worry that you’ve said the wrong thing. You worry that he’ll get up and bolt. Instead, he brushes a few stray hairs from your eyes and smiles.

“If it’s any consolation,” he says. “I didn’t stick around for your stitching abilities,”

The apprehension wipes from your bones and you let out a laugh. “You’re so corny,” you say.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you like it’s something he does every day. It’s sweet and soft, plush against the jagged beat of your heart. It doesn’t last long, but you don’t need it to. You’re breathless anyway.

“What was that for?” you ask, starry eyed and far away.

He shrugs, as if this wasn’t the single most important thing you’ve ever experienced. “Figured it was making you anxious, so I got it out of the way,”

His cheeks are pink as you look at him. “What do we call this?”

“Healing,” he says, and kisses you again.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #x reader #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy #fanfic #m writes #my fics

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abbyromanoff · 10 months

Text

Destiny Can Be Hell

Pairings: Kate Bishop x fem!reader, (past) Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Word count: 13,106

Warnings: cheating (R has a husband), older!R, arguing, drinking, mentions of drugs (cocaine, heroine, weed, LCD, mushrooms), smut, fingering, face riding, cunnilingus, handcuffs, mommy kink (R), excessive pet names (baby girl, baby, sweetheart, honey, etc), mentions of gagging, thigh riding, strap on use (K), public sex, masturbation, phone sex, biting, spitting, Kate has mommy issues, almost getting caught, abuse of power, powerbottom!R, service top/switch!Kate, degrading, guilt, angst, fluff, multiple orgasms, praising, smoking, jealousy, think that’s about it :)

This is based on the show “Gypsy” on Netflix, def recommend it!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“And then she just left. H-how can someone just throw you away like you meant nothing to them?” You nodded with understanding, making another small note on your paper marked with the words, ‘Yelena Belova’.

“Honey, I know this may be hard to take in but, do you think she might’ve just, say, gotten bored?” The blonde looked at you through tears and gulped down her nerves. She wasn’t the easiest to get through, but after nearly six months together you learned how to reach her. Her parents had forced her to come here if she wanted to continue living with them, and, due to her having nothing left in her bank account, she had to agree.

“But, why? I don’t think I’m all that boring, am I?” You quickly shushed her with a shake of your head, grasping her clasped hands in your own.

“Trust me, Lena, you are not a bore. But, sometimes some people struggle being with others or spending so long with one person, and that’s their own battle that they need to fight on their own, you can’t help them. And no matter how badly you want to help them and be there for them, is it really worth losing your mind and sanity over?”

“But I loved her..”

“I know you did. But there comes a point where you need to give yourself an ultimatum, are you going to ruin your life for hers when you still need to live with yourself every day? While I know you’re such a sweet, young girl who just wants to help others, you’ll never be able to fix someone; you have to be able to fix yourself.” She moved into your arms, wrapping her own around your shoulders as she cried. It pained you to hear it when you had started developing a love her for. She was almost like a daughter to you that you’d be willing to protect at any cost and knowing you couldn’t protect her heart from that asshole only hurt more.

“Thank you, Y/N.” She used to call you Mrs. Y/L/N, but you had insisted that she call you by your first name, hearing the title always made you feel old.

“Of course, kiddo. Now, let me assign you your homework for the week, okay?” She agreed, wiping the tears from her face before you handed her a tissue from your desk. You grabbed a new sheet of paper and wrote down her assignment, ‘Remove all things belonging to your ex from your belongings and put them somewhere hidden where you won’t find them.’

When you handed it to her she looked shocked. She didn’t know if she could do so, but she’d try for you and herself.

“And don’t forget, even if you don’t complete it yet, you still have a long time to do so. And no matter what, I’ll always be proud of you, Yelena.” You said your goodbyes before sitting on your desk chair, spinning in it for a moment before throwing your head back and letting out a sigh. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home, but you still had one more session.

After another hour of listening to one of your patients, you finally decided to head home. But first, you wanted to stop for some coffee. You had been craving it for a few days now that your espresso machine broke and you were running late this morning so you didn’t have time to order any.

The doorbell chime rang as you entered but it didn’t draw many eyes, there were already at least twenty-ish people in here.

“Can I have one small cold brew, please?” The man in front of you nodded and wrote down the order, yelling to some girl in the back to make it. You waited patiently and passed the time by going on your phone, smiling at the video your husband sent you of him and his friends saying hello. They were at the bar for an after-work drink and he would most likely not be back for another two hours.

Your eyes soon landed on a flyer in front of you, it was bright yellow and practically begging for your attention. It was an advertisement for a band who were playing this Friday at the local pub. All of a sudden, you heard your name being called and shot your eyes up to see who it was, almost forgetting where you were.

“Cold brew for Y/N!” You walked forward, your eyes still examining the piece of paper and the details written on it. You weren’t exactly planning on going but the idea didn’t disappoint.

“Nice flyer, lady.” You looked up with a raised brow, eyeing the girl in front of you who just grinned.

“It’s my band, I’m the lead singer.”

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you were just being rude there.” You chuckled with embarrassment, walking over to the side where napkins and straws were placed.

“So, you going?” The girl was still there, even if she most likely had many other orders to take.

“Uh, I might. I’ve never really been that into rock.” She shrugged. You didn’t know why she was wasting her time talking to you but you weren’t mad about it, either. In fact, there was a small part of you that enjoyed the small talk with her, even if you only knew her for a minute or less.

“Well, I promise we won’t disappoint. And if you do go, I’ll buy you a shot on me, deal?”

“And why would you do that for me?” She shrugged once again, a smirk teasing at her lips.

“‘Cause you’re hot.” Was all she said before returning to her spot in the back where you guessed she would make the drinks. You chuckled to yourself and tried to hide the blush now adorning your cheeks from any pass-byer’s as if they’d even care for one second what you were giddy about.

“Welcome home, my love.” You greeted your husband from the bed as he entered the room. He took off his suit jacket and pecked your cheek before entering the master bathroom.

“How were the guys?” He took a moment to respond due to him having still been brushing his teeth. Once he spit out the toothpaste, he spoke.

“Fine.” You hummed and pressed your lips together before turning to shut your bedside lamp off. You both had noticed the distance between you two starting to grow even more, but you were trying to hang on for the sake of this marriage.

“Goodnight, Steve.” He responded in a tired voice and quickly fell asleep next to you. Even after he brushed his teeth, you could still smell the alcohol residue on his breath and body.

He wasn’t a horrible man, he just wasn’t the best husband either. He loved you, you knew that. But he didn’t know how to show it. When you two had met each other he was receiving help from counselors and you really thought he’d change for you. He was a sex addict, nothing else mattered when sex would be involved. You thought you could fix him, and that’s why you had given Yelena that advice, so she wouldn’t end up like you who’d dread going home to her partner every night.

You toyed with your ring before placing it on the bedside table along with your blue-light glasses. Your hand lingered over the paper from today before you grabbed it once again. You were wondering what was happening to you, you didn’t even know this woman but you were still considering going.

Friday had come quicker than expected and here you were, sitting in your office with your work bag being filled with your current clothes. You looked too professional for a small bar and a band, so you thought you’d try and look your best for once since your wedding day.

“Ooh, what’s the special occasion for miss sexy tonight, hm?” You rolled your eyes at your coworker's words, Wanda had always been such a flirt.

“Don’t you have a husband and children to get home to, Wands?”

“Yes, but they have me all the time, I need a break from those brats.” She sat down in front of you as you ate the rest of your fruit bowl from today for dinner.

“I told you, I’m always willing to babysit if you need a break. I may not have children but I am good with them.” She leaned back into her chair and sipped from her mug thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you and Steve have kids? I mean, you’re thirty-five, Y/N, and you’re not getting any younger. Besides, with the muscles on that man, he could carry the babies for you.” You laughed along with her, resting your head on your hand. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you’ve thought about it before. But having them with Steve didn’t seem like a possibility, especially with his addiction.

“I- I don’t know, I don’t think it’s going to happen.” Wanda looked at you, looking be-widdled at your statement. You knew how much she adored the thought of children, even if she complained about hers all day long. So for her to hear you weren’t going to have any was like a stab in the heart, even to her.

“What? Y/N, honey, you can’t be serious right now.” You shrugged without care and stood up to remove your empty bowl from the table. You placed it in your bag and put it on your bare shoulder, giving a kiss to Wanda’s cheek as you started to walk out.

“We’ll talk about it another time. But for now, I’m going to have some fun at the bar before I have to go back to doing nothing at home.” She slapped your ass playfully as you left, and you strutted your hips just to tease her.

The moment you entered the small building, a strong wave of alcohol hit your nose, you could’ve choked on it. You grabbed a margarita and sat in a booth all alone, questioning if you should’ve even come here in the first place. That was until you looked at the stage and there she was, setting up the microphone while her crew set up their own tools. You couldn’t put your eyes anywhere else. It was like staring at the sun, you knew it wasn’t good for you, but the feeling was so powerful that you didn’t want to look away.

Her voice soon boomed across the whole place and drew everyone’s eyes onto her, you wished you were the only one though. She thanked everyone for coming out tonight before she opened her mouth to sing, the vocals leaving her like it was second nature.

You moved to the front of the row, watching her with admiration. The lights were a dark red and the ones on stage were a bright, beaming yellow. It somehow illuminated her skin perfectly. Her nose ring shined and you were immediately drawn to it. Oh, how she could captivate you so much in such little time was insane, but you didn’t want to lose this. When her eyes met with yours you swore you saw hearts all around, you felt like you would’ve nearly fainted if it wasn’t for the people behind you squishing you.

Once she got off stage and thanked everyone again, you walked back to your booth to collect your things. You didn’t plan on staying, but that was until you heard her booming voice over the other patrons.

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up, coffee girl.” You grinned at the nickname and shook your head loosely before regaining eye contact with her.

“Where are you headed? I promised you a drink, didn’t I?”

“Uh, I should probably be getting home soon, I wasn’t exactly planning to stay out very long.” She rolled her eyes and dragged you towards the bar, yelling to the bartender for two fireball shots. You looked at her with wide eyes until she sat down, slapping the seat next to her to signal you to sit.

“You guys were really good up there.” You said, ruining the silence that overtook you both. She looked over to you, downing the shot with a raised eyebrow and the same classy smirk she gave you yesterday.

“Why, thank you, coffee girl.”

“You can just call me Y/N, coffee girl.” You teased her, smiling to yourself when you notice she doesn’t seem uninterested.

“Well then, Y/N, you can call me Kate.” You two continued small talk for nearly half an hour, most of it being about her band and her work. But she was intrigued to know more about you than herself, she wanted to know your life story, but you weren’t being that easy.

“So, Y/N,” You hummed in response. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, what exactly would you like to know?” She seemed deep in thought as she stared into the pupils of your eyes. You were like a mystery she wanted to solve.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.” She clicked her tongue happily.

“Mm, I like my women older.” Your mouth fell open at her comment before you shook yourself off when she showed no sign of the words affecting her as they did you.

“Any kids?”

“Nope.”

“Husband? Wife?”

“Husband.” She examined the way you took a moment longer to answer and furrowed her brows together. She looked down at your hand.

“Where’s the ring?” You followed her eyes to where she was right, there was no ring on your finger to prove you were in fact married.

“Oh- right, I must’ve forgotten it at home.” You nervously chuckled, hoping that she’d drop it without further questioning. She did.

“Ever been with a woman before.”

“Uh, no. No, I haven’t.” You stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck as your leg bounced quickly.

“Even better.” What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask her, but she was already starting to walk out the door. You followed her with hesitation, wondering if she even wanted you to.

“Where…where are you going?” There was a small bit of hope in your tone. You were hoping she wouldn’t just leave you like that, especially when you enjoyed talking to her so much. The other women you knew weren’t like her. They weren’t as fun or energetic. Their voices didn’t have your ears making love, it only made them burn to hear them talk about their children and how pathetic their husbands are.

You wondered how Wanda would react to this. Knowing that you were practically falling for a girl nearly half your age. Especially when she adored your husband for whatever reason it was that she had said before, you probably weren’t listening anyways.

“For a smoke. Wanna join?” You let out a breathy nod, her face nearly inches from yours. She stared down at your lips for a moment before looking at your facial features, her mouth slightly parted just enough so you could see a small number of her teeth.

“You don’t smoke.” She said before dragging you with her by your hand, her own loosely grabbing the tips of your fingers to guide you with her.

“How do you know that?”

“I can read you like a book, baby.” The side of her mouth parted upward as she grabbed the small box from her back pocket. Her other bandmates were already out there, most likely high out of their minds and snorting a line off of the stairway. You bit your lip in order to not let anything slip that you knew you’d regret later on.

“Hey! Lighter.” She yelled to someone who you didn’t know the name of and quickly after, a lighter was thrown at her and she caught it in her hand like it was a baseball. She leaned against the alleyway wall, one of her legs holding her up while the other folded at the knee to rest on the wall.

“You want one or not?” She nodded in your direction with the box in her hands. You reached out after a moment of worry. You were wondering if this was a bad idea, but what harm could one do? She put the small container back into her back pocket after you took one, lighting her cigarette before cupping her hands around yours and doing the same. The moment you inhaled the tough smoke, your lungs filled with the disgusting taste of it. It traveled down your throat and tickled it on the way. She laughed when you had a small coughing fit.

“You look like me the first time I smoked.” You were never the adventurous type when you were younger, often opting in to finish your studies or watch a movie. It paid off in the end when you had a good-paying job and a nice house, but there were still times in your life when you regretted not having the same amount of fun your past friends had. While half of them either ended up with addictions or dead-end jobs that did nothing to support them, you still wished you got to experience all of those events instead of having your first drink of alcohol with your parents on your twenty-first birthday. God, how that still embarrassed you.

But Kate wasn’t like that. She was a nineteen-year-old girl with a passion for music. She wasn’t in college and she had a boring job serving and making coffee. But at the end of the week, she got to unwind with her vocals and melodies. You aspired to be the kind of girl she is.

“You ever done worse than cigs?” You asked in a beat of silence, your stance matching Kate’s but clearly looking more awkward and forced than she did.

“Depends, what do you see as worse than this?” You shrugged, going over all the options in your head of the things you’ve always heard people around her age getting addicted to. Even one of your clients had come to you, seeking help with the depression she had dealt with, mainly due to the pills she used on a daily. Her boyfriend was abusive and a drug dealer, her mother was on her death bed, and her scholarship was ruined due when they found out what she was taking. Her father had left her when she was young and she had no one left, she couldn’t even face her mother after the events took place.

“I don’t know, like…weed. Cocaine, heroin, LSD, anything really.”

“I smoke weed often, but I’m not an addict. I’ve tried cocaine once, didn’t like how it made my nose feel after. And that’s really it. Oh, I did use mushrooms before too.” She casually spoke, as if she hadn’t admitted to taking illegal drugs. After all, she didn’t know if you were a cop, she didn’t know anything about you.

“And?”

“And, it wasn’t horrible, but fucking expensive.”

“And weed isn’t?”

“Nah, my pals mostly give me a discount on it. They grow it themselves so they make a fuck load of money, they don’t need mine.” She stomped on the cigarette bud that was now on the ground before saying bye to her pals. It was already late and you two had been standing there for over an hour in the peaceful, cold night. Well, peaceful wasn’t the best word to describe it. Cars were honking at one another and angry drivers were shouting. Some people were shouting and fighting the air, you took note of their bodies and came to the conclusion that they were under something stronger than what you were using. Music was still blaring from the pub and people were getting kicked out left and right, some leaving with blood dripping down their faces.

“So, you wanna head back to my place?” While you wanted to take up the offer, you knew you couldn’t. You hadn’t even told your husband the truth about where you were, insisting that you were staying late at work to finish some files before getting a quick drink with Wanda. He’d know something was up if you didn’t come home that night, and with Kate’s clear intentions, you knew you wouldn’t be heading home afterward.

“Uh, I can’t. My husband would probably be suspicious if I weren’t to return home.” She smiled devilishly at your words, trailing her fingertips lightly against your arm. You shivered, and it wasn’t from the close-to-negative temperature.

“Where’d you tell him you were going?”

“Staying late at work, then getting a drink with a friend of mine.”

“Ah, the classic cheating excuse, sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t.” You looked at her dumbfounded and stepped back from her touch.

“I’m not cheating on my husband.”

“So, this,” She stepped towards you once again, your body fighting against you and leaning into her. She placed her hands on your ass and pulled your forward, looking into your eyes with that hazy look she had. She leaned her face into your neck, brushing her lips against the soft skin as her breath tickled you.

“This is nothing?” She whispered as you felt a small peck landing on your neck. She did it one, two, three times before you came back to your senses and pushed her off of you.

“Stop it, Kate! I’m not going to cheat on my husband, I still love him.” She raised her hands defensively and laughed. Oh, how you wanted to rip that smirk off her face. But simultaneously, you wanted nothing more than to see that smirk as she hovered over you, her cold fingers causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin as she touched you just below the belt. Having her peel off your pants, kiss down your body as your head would be thrown back when her tongue would lick up all of your wetness caused by her.

“Then why did you even come here?” You tried keeping a hardened face, although it wasn’t exactly easy with the thoughts racing through your mind.

“You really expect me to believe you just wanted to hear me sing? Please, I’m not that innocent, Y/N. I know you wanted to see what else I could do with my mouth-” You tried walking away before anything could escalate, but her hand gripped your wrist with a tight hold.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby girl.”

“I’m older than you, I’m not your baby.” She shook her head with a laugh. The number of times she had chuckled tonight was unbearable, but you wanted to hear more of it. You chased the sound that was so heavenly to you.

“Yeah, well, I wanna call you my baby girl if you let me. Will you be my baby girl, Y/N?” Yes. Yes. Yes, is what you wanted to scream out. You could’ve died just at the thought of her calling you that alone.

“I-”

“Let me have your phone. I’ll put my number in it and you can text me if you want. Or, you can go home to your husband and sleep in his arms while you wish it was me.” You reached into your purse and handed it to her after a moment. Your mind raced with any possible fear you could have, but you stood still and didn’t let it show. She opened your phone, the lack of a password making it easy to access anything she’d want. But she only went to contacts, typed in her digits, and gave it back to you. She leaned in to kiss your cheek and gave you a wink as she left. You were stuck in your spot, staring at your phone that had at least ten messages and calls from your husband that were silenced when you put it on do not disturb. You sighed and rubbed your temples with your hands before walking to the sidewalk of the loud street, calling over a taxi, and having him drive you home. You paid sixty-two dollars and thirty-two cents and thanked the man before exiting the car, walking to the front of your house, and using the key to enter.

Your husband was dead asleep in your shared bedroom, the only thing covering his body being a wife-beater and blue, Calvin Klein boxers. You walked into the bathroom, setting your phone down and grabbing your toothbrush. Your mind was plagued with the thought of her, of Kate. You wondered what she was doing right now, or who she was doing.

Once you had put everything away you grabbed your phone, staring at the number and debating on whether or not you were going to reach out. You wanted to, but there was still that small lingering fear that had you wondering if you should or not. If you did, you could risk your marriage and your heart. But if you didn’t, you could risk the unknown never being discovered.

Fuck it, you thought as you typed in a quick message to the woman, checking your phone every few seconds for a response. You didn’t expect one so fast, but she was record timing with her two-minute wait to respond.

Kate: So you did take up my offer after all

You: Yeah, I did.

You waited for her text with beads of sweat practically dripping down your face. You were so anxious and kept looking out the door for any sign of your husband waking up. He was out cold.

Kate: You don’t gotta be so formal on text yk

You: Well, I guess I just like being formal. Is that so bad?

Kate: Not at all baby

You: Why do you keep calling me that? I’m nearly twice your age, if anything, I should be calling you baby.

The three dots went in and out before you put your phone down, trying your best to think about anything else but failing in the end. You couldn’t stray away from her for more than a minute before you were falling back in for more.

Kate: You want me to be your baby?

You sucked in a breath, shuddering as you released it. You were up against the wall as you slid down it, the cold tiles pressing against you through the thin shirt you had on. You only wore a loose, lacy camisole and matching panties. Steve loved seeing you in it but he was too tired to be granted that gift.

You: I don’t know, maybe.

Your hand lowered into your panties, feeling your wet slit as you slowly parted your legs. You nearly jumped when your fingers made contact with your clit, you were absolutely dripping. How did she have such an effect on you in such little time? The question was one you’d never know. But what you did know was that you were in need of her. You needed her cold, long fingers replacing yours.

You pictured her face as you came to an orgasm. Her hair surrounding her perfectly sculptured face, falling over you as she laid on top of your shaking body. Her plump lips bringing you to another orgasm. Her soft thighs clenching as you returned the favor. Her breath shaky and hollow, a mere image of yours right now.

Kate: You still there Y/N?

The ding brought your focus back onto the phone, but still on her. You wanted to tell her what you had just done, would she think you’re too weird? Would she like it? Would she block you? You chose the safest bet in letting this rest in your deepest, darkest secrets file stored in your mind.

You: Sorry about that, I was doing something.

Three dots, a bubble. A response.

Kate: What were u doing?

You contemplated your options. If you told her, there was the risk of creeping her out, scaring her away for good. And you didn’t want that, she was one of the first people you enjoyed talking to in years. But if you didn’t tell her, maybe she’d never make a move on you again. That seemed great for many, but the facade you put up was only out of fear. Fear of someone seeing, fear of cheating, the fear of falling in so deep for her.

You: Just getting dressed.

You went with the safer option, feeling like your life was a video game where every small question can change the whole ending. Your nails were being bit down on as you anxiously awaited her.

Kate: What are u wearing?

Not what you were expecting. But with Kate, nobody could ever expect anything besides the unexpected. That’s what you enjoyed about her, she was unpredictable. She was like an adventure to a new country, you had no idea what you were doing or saying but you loved every moment of it.

You: This new camisole I got and my underwear. Nothing sexy, trust me.

Kate: Show me

You tried finding the best angle to take the photo, even standing to try and take a mirror pic but failing. You cursed to yourself and sat back down to where you were before, bringing your phone above your body and leaning it downward to take the picture. You sent it without looking back and saw the ‘read’ signal pop up. She was typing, and then it went away. The way she had this power over you shocked you immensely, why did you care so much about a girl who could sing? Maybe it was because she paid attention to you, something your husband for the life of him couldn’t do. Or maybe it was the exciting part of it. Your whole life was always a bore, but today had to have been the most exciting day in your nearly forty years of living.

Kate: Fuck youre so hot

You smiled to yourself and took another photo, this time including your face in the mix.

Kate: Baby youre killin me here

She sent a photo a second later, stating it took a minute to load before you were able to see it. You whimpered when seeing her under a blanket, clear signs of her wearing nothing underneath. Her leg was sticking out enough to be able to see that there was no underwear or shorts on. Her shoulders were exposed and you could almost see the top of her breasts from the angle. Her hair was sprawled out across the pillow beneath her head, her chin being the only part of her face you could see.

Before you could respond, another photo made its way to you. Her leg that was sticking out had her hand now resting on it, on the top of her inner thigh. Her pinky finger was just able to be seen as it mostly went under the blanket. She was so close to touching her core that even you were on edge and waiting for more.

Kate: I guess ur regretting not coming over now huh

You: I really wish I could’ve, trust me, I do.

Kate: Then why don’t u? Ur husband is prob dead asleep and would never know

Before you could answer, she was already typing out yet another response.

Kate: And r u just gonna leave me like this? Im so wet for you baby girl

Kate: U don’t know how badly I wanted to fuck u back at the pub

Kate: I can’t stop thinking bout it

Kate: U wanna know smth?

You quickly looked up the meaning of her slang word before answering, still watching the bed with a close eye for any movement.

You: What is it?

Kate: Ive been touching myself this whole time

You groaned to yourself, the wetness you fought so hard to relieve only coming back even worse.

Kate: Idk what if is about u but ur just so fucking sexy

Kate: Ive always been into older women but ur just different

Kate: In the best fucking way

You: I appreciate the compliment, baby.

Kate: I wanna hear u say that to me

Kate: I bet it sounds so hot coming from ur mouth

Your fingers somehow found their way back inside of your already-drenched panties. Your sore clit was rubbed in circles as you bucked your hips up to meet yourself halfway.

“Oh, fuck!” You mumbled under your breath, trying your best to cover your mouth but failing in the process.

You grabbed your phone, pressing the camera icon and pointing it to where your hand was almost hidden. You debated sending it, although you now knew she was doing the same so, what was the shame in it?

Kate: U alone?

You: Yeah, I’m in the bathroom and my husband is in the next room, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon.

You waited for a text, but instead, the screen lit up with a call. It wasn’t FaceTime so you wouldn’t be able to see her, but your mind already had enough pictures of her.

“You there, baby?” You hummed as an answer, afraid that if you were to speak, you’d end up gambling your words. Your breath was heavy, practically a pant by now.

“You sound so hot, fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” She bit her lip, her breath the same as yours as she rode her fingers. She had two inside of herself and she couldn’t help but think of how the night would’ve gone if you were there with her. For now, she’d have to stick to her fantasies. But soon enough, she’d have you. And she’d make you hers for good, no matter what that pity of a husband thought of it.

“I’m so close, I’m so close!” You whined, your wetness loud enough for Kate on the other end to hear. It only helped bring her closer to the edge as her coil tightened.

“Cum with me, Y/N.” It was in a low, cracked tone, but you could hear it. You followed her orders and exploded on your fingers, slumping even further against the wall when you heard her reach her peak as well.

“Can I tell you something, Kate?” You mimicked her earlier text with a grin, already picturing the type of effect it’d have on her when hearing what was to follow.

“Hm?”

“That wasn’t the first time this night that I touched myself thinking of you.” You hung up before she could answer, leaving her dumbfounded on her bed.

You lied in bed and that’s when everything hit you. Your husband, who slept near inches away from you, could’ve heard the way you came for another woman. Your orgasms with him weren’t nearly as good and you hadn’t even been touched by her yet, you could only imagine what that’d be like.

Tears threatened to spill as the realization came crashing down; you cheated. You were a cheater, and that would forever haunt you, you already knew it.

The rest of the weekend was mostly a blur, all that you did remember was Saturday night, dinner with the Wilsons. Sam was a kind man, tall, smart, and very handsome. He and his wife seemed to get along well, but so did you and Steve to the public eye. They had two children, one was turning sixteen while the other had just turned nine.

“You alright there, Y/N? You’ve been extra quiet tonight.” The whole table turned to look your way, the newfound attention leaving you slightly embarrassed. You waved them off and luckily, they listened. Truth be told, you didn’t want the liquor they were offering, you wanted the coffee from the shop. More like you wanted an excuse to go, that way you could see Kate again. You hoped it wouldn’t be awkward after the night before, the thought alone making you clench your thighs.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, bringing your phone with you and, right when you closed the door, pulling it out. You went to your contacts list and opened the text icon, typing a quick ‘I miss you.’ to Kate before you could regret it. But you already did. Fuck, you could already see her, laughing at the text with a different girl she brought home. You weren’t doubting her, per se, but she had mentioned before how she’s a ladies' lady, often attracting anyone she wanted into her arms, or even her bed.

A ding brought you out of your disturbance and you looked down, your hopes of it being Kate soon fulfilled as you read the text.

Kate: Come see me then

You: I’m at dinner, but I just needed to talk to you.

You weren’t able to see it, but she was secretly smiling at the messages. She had never been one for relationships, often opting for hookups instead. And when they wanted to be with her, she’d either block them and never speak to them again or say yes, but never actually planning to be anything more than friends with benefits in her mind. She was a heartbreaker, of course, she was. She was destined from birth to have a good time, and how could you have fun with just one person?

Kate: I’m at work rn but I’d way rather be with you

You: You’ve barely even known me for more than a few days, why so interested?

Kate: I could say the same bout u Y/N

Touche. She had you beat at your own game.

There was a knock erupting on the door, making you jump in fright. You were so distracted texting her that you didn’t realize it had been about eight minutes of you just standing in the bathroom. Walking back into the dining table was a bit awkward when everyone knew where you came from, it wasn’t exactly the best place to be hiding for so long.

“So, Y/N,” Sam started, drawing your attention back to him. “Steve said you and him had been talking about having children lately, and we just wanted to say congratulations and we wish you the best of luck in the process. Trust me, I know how long those things can take.” The rest of the table let out half-hearted laughs that you didn’t return. You looked at him with furrowed brows, shaking your head slowly.

“What do you mean? I and Steve haven’t discussed children-” You felt a small tap to your thigh and looked over to see your husband with a deceiving smile. It was clear he had been telling a lie to everyone while you were gone, but you weren’t going to stand for it. You had made it clear that having children would most likely not be an option for you two in the future, and each time he denied it, saying you’d come to your senses soon and that you were the only ones in the town your age without kids, that you were starting to get too old to push the thought away.

“What she means is, thank you for your support-”

“No, what I mean is we’re not having children, Steven.” You could sense the tension around the table as everyone looked at you two for another move. He sighed deeply, grabbing his things along with yours and having you both say your goodbyes to everyone. He gripped your wrist with certainty and practically dragged you to the car, not even caring to open the door for you as he got into his side.

The whole ride was full of silence, so thought it was best to finally be able to respond to Kate after you had left her in the bathroom.

You: Hey, sorry about the wait, someone knocked on the door and I had to go back to the table with the others. Xx

You added the Xs in hopes they’d show off a sense of regret and sorrow for not answering sooner. But she didn’t seem to mind as she answered back in an instant.

Kate: Hey baby I was starting to think u ditched me

You: I’m sorry, love, I had an argument with Steve at the table. Now we’re headed home and I wanted to talk to you before, well, we argue more.

Kate: Who’s Steve?

You must’ve forgotten to mention his name to her in the time you spent getting to know one another. You were slightly worried about the fact that you had a husband, not so much about the cheating aspect but about how Kate must feel. Does it turn her on knowing that she’s taking you away from him? That she’s now considered a homewrecker? Maybe she didn’t like the thought. But she also did seem pretty into it last night on the phone. Whatever she felt, she was good at hiding it.

You: My husband.

Kate: Oh so he’s the asshole?

You chuckled quietly to yourself, afraid to make too much noise when he was sitting right there. You didn’t want him to question you, so you turned the brightness of your phone down in case he looked in the window. And you turned at a perfect angle to which he couldn’t see your phone but he also wouldn’t notice you acting secretive.

You: He’s not an asshole, Kate, he struggles with his own issues and I help him with that.

Kate: He seems like an asshole to me especially since he took u away from me

You: We met eleven years ago, if anything you’re taking me away from him.

Kate: And is that such a bad thing?

You: Of course not, I prefer you way more than I do him.

Before you could look to see what she had said back, Steve was already trying to catch your attention.

“Can you get off that damn phone for one second, Y/N?” You hummed and did so slowly, unbuckling your seatbelt as quickly as possible when you saw that you had arrived home. He tried to stop you, but you were already gone.

Once the door opened and closed behind him, he took off his suit jacket before turning to you. You stood in the kitchen, pot in hand as you poured a cup of tea for yourself.

“If you’re expecting me to apologize, don’t.” He rested his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You suddenly remembered all the times you had gone to Wanda, explaining how attractive he was when he looked mad. Now, you hated more than anything to see him this way. You hated seeing him in general.

“Oh, I do. You think you can go over there and embarrass me like that in front of all of my friends and expect me to be okay with it?”

“And you expect me to sit there, listening to your agitating rants about how busy your work life is, how hard it is for you, and how badly you wish you could quit? Then fucking do it already! And do you expect me to sit there while you make up lies about us having kids when I deliberately told you I don’t want them? God, why can’t you just respect my choice? You’re not the one carrying the child, I am!”

“I want a child, Y/N. This could help me with my addiction, it could even help with us and our marriage.” He tried reasoning with you, but you stood your ground.

“I’m not going to bear a child just because you think it could help you, what about me? What about what I want, Steven?”

“What you want is what’s best for us, and for our family.”

“There is no family, Steve, it’s us. It’s me and you, a marriage, that’s all.” He ran his hands through his hair and, without another word, he walked his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. You took this as your chance to see what Kate had written earlier today.

Kate: Oh really?

You: Yeah. I want to see you this week, how about Monday? I’ll stop by your work and I could even pick you up if you’d like.

You set your phone down and drank the cup of tea in your hands, sighing contently. Even if you had just had a disagreement and shamed yourself in front of your friends and his, things felt okay. You had a feeling that if Kate said yes, you’d be looking forward to that day until it came.

Kate: That sounds perfect. My shift starts at 7 and ends at 4 wbu?

You, once again, found yourself looking up the meaning of her slang, it was most likely just a young person thing. Once you got your result, you reopened her and your messages and wrote out;

You: I’ll be done around 6 PM. Although, I do start at 11 AM, maybe I can stop by your work?

Kate: That sounds great baby girl. See you Monday?

You: Yeah, I’ll be looking forward to it!

You changed her contact name, adding a little heart at the end with a smile. You feared what would happen if your husband saw your phone, and saw any notification from someone with a red heart next to their name. He didn’t even have one, to anyone else his caller ID seemed like it must’ve been a friend, not the person you married.

You entered your room, leaning against the door to let out a sigh before walking to the bathroom. You felt the cold marble under your hands as you leaned over the sink, spitting the toothpaste out of your mouth before rinsing off. When you lied back in bed, lifting the blanket over your body, your husband turned to coddle you. His arms went around your waist and his front rubbed against yours.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have forced you like I did. You think I can try and make it up to you?” His dick poked at your backside and you grinned, turning your head to see his now perfectly above yours. His lips pressed against your own, his hands wandering down your frame and stopping at the waistline of your shorts. He pulled them down slowly, his breath a dark, deep shake.

“Your skin feels so soft, so perfect you are.” His cock throbbed with need, a need to return to its true home. Not tucked away in his clothes, but deep inside your cunt, just like he wanted.

“I wanna fucking ravish you, love.” You ran your hand down to his now freed length, stroking him gently as your other went to rub your clit. No matter how badly you were trying to keep your train of thought on him, on your partner, you couldn’t stop thinking about Kate. When you came just picturing her, and once more just from her voice. Steve, while he was an animal in bed, had never once made you feel as hot and bothered as you did from Kate. Even in the little time you knew her and the years you knew him, there was such a difference.

Monday came by surprisingly quickly and you were ecstatic. Kate was too, she had been texting you all morning when she was supposed to be working. You lectured her playfully, and she got a serious lecture from her boss in return.

“What would you like to drink?” The man asked you bluntly, all manners of his being thrown away as his clear exhaustion showed. You gave him a small smile, asking for the lady in the back. He sighed heavily with exaggeration, yelling into the back and soon after you saw the young girl rushing out. She looked annoyed, that was until she saw you. Her face lit up, a quirk of her lips showing as she hurried over to you, rushing out a ‘going on break!’ to her boss and dragging you to the back. There was a small room, but it was more like a closet. You guessed it was a storage unit of sorts, but you didn’t have time to question it as she pushed you against the wall.

“Oh, Katey.” You hummed into her mouth, her lips loosely against yours. She leaned back, biting her lip and staring at you through hooded eyes.

“That’s new, I like it.” You groaned when her lips were placed on your neck, her teeth grazing over the skin ever so lightly. She stopped, looking up at you with a slightly clenched jaw. It was hard to notice, but you picked up on it. You were a therapist, after all, you noticed everything.

“What’s this?” She traced her fingertip over the mark on your neck that you failed to cover up. Foundation was put over it, but she still saw through it, saw through you.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, baby girl.” Her fingers rested under your chin, pulling your face up higher so you’d look her in the eyes. She wasn’t some, stupid, naive little girl, she knew what it was, but she was jealous it wasn’t her marks.

“This from your husband?” You nodded with a gulp of fear mixed with lust. She scoffed, licking over the spot and sucking firmly. She was intending to make her own hickeys, whether you wanted them or not.

“Kate, I…slow down a bit, okay?”

“Or what? You gonna punish me?” Your eyes fluttered shut as her hand swept down your body in no time, slipping past the entryway of your pants and into your panties.

“You gonna, tie me up? Fuck me however long you want, not caring for one second about your little Katey’s pleasure, hm?” She was practically speaking to herself as you humped her palm that was rubbing deliciously against your clit. Two of her fingers prodded at your hole and suddenly the remembrance of Friday night came flooding back in. When you had your fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your hole because she had gotten you so wet, so needy. She had this effect on you that you didn’t quite understand, but you loved the chase of it all.

“You’re so wet, baby girl, this all for me?” You nodded your head. “Yeah? Did you greet your husband this morning knowing you were going to get fucked in the supply closet at my work? God, you’re such a slut. How are you going to face him now? Knowing that I’ve fucked you better than he ever has.” Her nose flared in anger, her head tossing back as she humped your thigh that stood out. You were both chasing one another’s highs at this point, and it was so exhilarating.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered into her shoulder, your head now resting on it as a way to feel closer to her.

“I know you are, and that’s the best part.” Your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your lip being bitten into by your teeth.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’ve ruined me.” While the words seemed harsh, she couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. No time spent with other girls had ever equaled to you, she wondered if it was due to your age. While she was the outgoing type, the type you’d usually see in kids her age, she had always been mature for her age. And for some reason, she had always been drawn to older women like yourself. She blamed most of it on the abandonment her mother often gave her from a young age, or the lack of love that made her have a deep desire to be cherished by someone like you.

“You know, I’ve always been, like, so drawn to older women. In eighth grade, I had the biggest crush on my history teacher. I’d roam the halls just to see her, and I’d skip class just to think about her more, and I would just hope that every time I got detention, she’d be the one watching me. You feel like that. It- I don’t know how to explain it but you just feel like that, like that excitement of having a middle school crush and all your friends would embarrass you or make fun of you for it. You just feel so fun yet calming at the same time. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never been with a woman before if I’m being honest, although if I was, my husband would have probably asked me for a threesome already. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I’m so attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re so unbelievably attractive, but you’re just so exciting and refreshing, I feel like a teenager again.” Your foreheads were resting against each other’s as you leaned in for a kiss, brushing your lips gently over hers so she’d make the first move, which she did. The two of you progressed into a sloppy makeout with tongues and teeth clashing together, your noses often hitting softly. That was until someone came pounding on the door, demanding that Kate needed to return to her shift as she was way overdue.

“Well, when can I see you again?”

“I don’t know, maybe sometime-”

“I want you to come to my place.” She interrupted, not seeming to care for her coworker waiting outside the door.

“W-what?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You could even spend the night, just like we talked about on the phone.” It was more of a question than an offer, you could hear the slight fear in her voice. You didn’t know what she had to be afraid of, especially when she was with you, in your arms. You raised your hand to her cheek, stroking the skin softly and pecking her lips once more.

“We’ll talk about it more later, alright?” She nodded and, due to her pal's request, returned to where she had to be, tugging the apron back onto her body and walking out of the small hallway in the back. You followed after a moment, keeping your head down in hopes no one would be able to pick up on what just happened.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You heard from the customer’s side of the register. You stopped in your tracks, slowly raising and turning your head to see who it was, hoping it wasn’t anyone you knew too well.

Wanda. Fuck. The suspicion was obvious in her tone but you didn’t blame her, if you had seen her walking out of a no-customers-allowed break room after a woman just left before you, you’d have questions.

She walked over to you, but you were rushing out of the store before she could meet you. She called your name, but you didn’t look back. Kate sighed, hiding her face from the other woman as she watched you leave.

“That lady that just left…why was she back there with you?” She asked Kate, placing her hands on the counter and leaning in close enough to whisper. Your mistress shrugged without thought, writing the name on the cup before continuing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…Wanda.” She read from the cup and walked to the back to continue brewing the coffee. She pulled out her phone quickly, pressing on your contact and typing out a quick message.

Kate <3: Wanda huh? U got another hoe Idk about?

You: Haha, very funny, Kate.

You entered your office with a deep sigh, the events from earlier still looming in your mind. You were still in such a need for her, you’ve never been so wet.

You walked over to your desk and opened the notebook in hand, trying to distract yourself from the soak in your panties. You could barely focus, there was sweat dripping on your forehead and you had to remove your reading glasses, hands gripping the desk as you tried taking deep breaths. It was so hard not to think about the things you had just done not even an hour ago, and how her fingers felt so well sliding against your walls.

The knock on the door interrupted your brain's fast thinking, but you were grateful. If you didn’t stop, you would’ve been caught grinding against your chair or fingering yourself in hopes that it would feel just as good as Kate's.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Wanda stood there awkwardly before sitting down on the couch, placing her coffee on the table in front of her and leaning back, her hands clasping together and resting on her knee.

“So, are we going to talk about earlier?” You played dumb in hopes she’d let it go and not mention it anymore.

“What about earlier?”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, you’re really going to act like I didn’t see you at the cafe down the street? And not to mention, the way you walked out of the back after another woman?” She took a moment before continuing her words, “Are you- are you having an affair?” You stopped in your steps, the same way you did earlier.

“Wanda, I’m going to need to excuse you from my office, I have a patient.” You opened the door for her and, before she could say anything more, you were closing the door in her face. You hated hearing it, that you being with another woman while still coming home to your partner and acting like it never happened was the definition of having an affair. You wiped the tears before they could arise and called in your patient, trying your best to listen and sympathize as if you weren’t dying inside.

The week went by slowly, painfully slowly. You and Kate had planned to meet Friday night, and it was that night. You haven’t seen her since, but you haven’t been able to stop yourself from texting her nonstop. She didn’t mind though, if anything, she was as obsessed as you.

You two had called twice, it didn’t feel like enough but hearing her voice eased you better than anyone.

Before you could leave and see Kate, you had one more patient. You weren’t exactly dreading it, Yelena was always a sweetheart and you’d never complain about seeing her, but you so desperately needed to touch Kate again.

“So, Yelena, did you complete your homework for the week?” She nodded proudly, and you loved to see it. You smiled, rubbing her knee and thigh softly. She craved the comfort from you, the motherly acts you gave her that she wished to receive from her own.

“That’s great! Here,” You put your hand in the air and she gave you the high-five you were asking for.

“I…well, I cut off contacts with her, but I just was really struggling to press delete for her contact.” You nodded understandably and let a hum escape your lips.

“Alright, I understand. It’s not easy to let go of things you had a connection to, especially when going back on your older self who never thought something like this would happen, where you’d lose the one person you started to love and trust.”

“But I don’t understand why I loved her so much. We, uh, we slept together a few times and went on a few dates, but I could tell she was uninterested in the thought of anything more than sex. She didn’t even love me, but I was practically obsessed with her and I hate myself so much for it, you know?” You handed her a tissue from the box on the table which she accepted with a small ‘thank you’.

“We don’t choose who we love, Yelena. We choose who we keep, and you wanted to keep her, but trust me when I say this, this girl, is not worth ruining yourself over. If she truly cared about you, she’d be fighting for you the way you did for her.” She knew you were right, but it was never easy to let go of someone who had this much of a hold on you. You knew it too, Kate already had a certain hold on you that you couldn’t remove no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” She asked, now at the end of your one hour together. “I was wondering if you could help me do the honors of deleting her number completely.” You agreed and once she gave you her phone, you pressed the contact she gave you. Your eyebrows furrowed at the name and picture, your eyes then following as they widened.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath and nearly dropped the phone if it wasn’t for your other hand being there. Yelena looked at you weirdly, but you shook it off as cramps.

“S-so, you want me to delete her contact? Like, permanently?” She nodded and her leg bounced nervously. Her hand came to her mouth as she bit her nails, rocking back and forth as she watched you hesitantly press delete. It felt like you were deleting her from your life, but it only made it worse knowing you were seeing your client's ex. Well, if it was even counted as an ex.

“Uhm, I’ll see you next week then?” You said your goodbyes and rushed out nearly as fast as her. You drove with speed, your fingertips bouncing on the driver's wheel anxiously, you were doing all the bad habits you helped others grow out of. Kate was texting you repeatedly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

When you knocked on the door to the apartment at the address she had given you, it took only ten seconds for her to answer. She was about to say her greetings, until you pushed past her abruptly and walked back and forth in the room.

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong, love?”

“Don’t call me ‘love’, Kate.” She waited for you to stop pacing before approaching you. Tears were streaming down your face and she wiped them against your will.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess?” When you stayed silent, she sighed heavily.

“You don’t answer any of my texts ‘till I start to think you’re going to ditch me here and then you come bursting in crying, and now you’re refusing to let me in so, please, just tell me what the fuck is going on, Y/N.” She loosely held onto your arms and searched your face for any sign but you gave none.

“I had a client come in today, one of my regulars. She’s been going for about a year-and-a-half now, she’s become like a daughter to me.” You were struggling to finish your sentence. She had led you to the couch now, and she was listening closely as you spoke. She was listening, and that was all you were asking for.

“Her name is Yelena Belova.” You saw the gears switch in her head as she leaned back, letting out a deep breath and resting her head in her hands.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” You both sat in silence awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say or do in this situation. She suddenly stood up, your eyes watching her body as she walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of liquor that you couldn’t quite make out from the cabinet and poured the drink in two red, party cups. She walked back to where you sat, handing you the cup and downing hers in one go.

“Are we going to talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” You looked at her, then your drink, and then back at her. She leaned down to your level, holding your chin and parting your mouth, grabbing your cup and slowly pouring the substance into your dry mouth. You closed your eyes, basking in the hard taste.

“There we go, good girl, sweetheart.” Her lip quirked up at the way your legs ever so slightly clenched together, almost invisible to anothers’ eye, but she picked up on everything about you. “I thought that was my nickname for you, sweetheart.” You teased her words, seeming to let go of the tense aroma you walked in with. You still weren’t fully relaxed, but the alcohol with a side of Kate helped ease you just a bit.

“Can’t I call you whatever I want? After all, you are mine, right?” She straddled your lap, her arms going around the back of your neck as she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a way that had you begging for more. She pecked you gently, but only once, she wanted you to fight for her touch.

“I’m all yours, Katey.” You gulped, feeling her fingertips playing with the hairs on the back of your neck and causing goosebumps to arise to the surface.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that.” You felt her hips start a slow rock on your thighs and rested your palms on her own, trying to guide her. She let you. She let you help guide her to an orgasm, hoping it would be as intense as the other day. She rolled her head back, exposing her neck to the only person in the apartment besides her, you. Your lips found place on the skin, trying your best to leave marks just like she had wished to do to you. She moaned, and the sound alone almost made you cum.

“Does that feel good, Katey?” You heard her, once again, growl at the nickname and smiled, realizing the effect you had on her.

“So good, mommy.” You paused for a moment and soaked in her words, but she didn’t seem to notice as she focused on the pleasure pooling in her panties. While in shock, you had accidently bitten down on her skin, hard. She moaned even louder, and, while you always had a suspicion she was into harsher treatment during sex, you never expected that.

“Oh God, I’m gonna-” She was cut off by her orgasm that came crashing down on her, leaving her body to still momentarily. You admired her body, the marks of your love that were starting to turn purple, the wetness residue on her panties, her blown out face, and her flawless hair. You had an obsession with it, it was just so perfectly silky and had just the right amount of curls to go with the straigtness that was her hair.

“That’s it, cum for mommy.” You played along, watching as her eyes trailed to your own and her lip was taken between her teeth. Your digits toyed with the button to her gray jeans, undoing it slowly and dipping your hand into her undergarments, teasing her clit just enough to get a whine out of her and grabbing her juices on your fingertips. You ran them over her mouth before she parted them, sucking your fingers as if her life depended on it.

“You’re so pretty, Kate..” She smiled around your digits, running her hands down your body and finding your breasts.

“You wanna come to bed with me, baby girl?” You nodded and she quickly got off your waist, dragging you along as she walked backwards to her open bedroom that was only covered by sheets hanging from the ceiling. She kept her hands interlaced with yours, your feet nearly tripping from hers as she landed on the bed with a soft thud, you following soon after her. Her hands continued to roam your body and found your breasts once more. You looked down at her, smiling at the way she seemed completely absorbed by you.

“Take this off…please.” She said, motioning to your shirt. You chuckled, leaning back to do as she said, hearing her breath fall short when seeing you in just a lacy bra.

“You like it?” She nodded. “Good, I wore it just for you.” As badly as she wanted to see your bare tits, she also loved the clothing that you wore just for her. It made her shutter knowing that you woke up this morning and searched through the best clothes, all for her. She could only imagine what was under your dress pants.

“If I’m taking off mine, you need to take off yours.” She quickly took discarded her shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor and smirking to herself when she noticed your hand close to your crotch.

“You need some help with that?” You breathlessly nodded and, in an instant, she undid your bottoms, leaving you almost completely naked. You guessed her fast and effortless moves were from the many girls she had been with, but knowing you were the only one she wanted to truly keep made your heart warm.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” You could hear the truthfulness in her tone, and it could’ve nearly made you cry. No matter how many times you were complimented for your well-put looks, none of them meant as much to you as hers.

You unclasped your bra, letting her see you in full glory. You were nervous, she had never seen you entirely bare, but you wanted to fully give yourself to her, she deserved that and so did you.

“Katey, I-” You paused, the fear of her judgement filling your mind.

“Go on, baby.”

“I…I want to ride your face.” Your worries only gre with her silence, but they were instantly forgotten when she had started tugging your body forward to rest on top of her face, just like you wanted. But you could tell she wanted it even more than you.

“You won’t hurt me, baby girl, I want this.” You nodded and sunk down onto her, sighing in pleasure as her tongue immediately started lapping at your folds. She was like a starved animal with the way she ate you out, leaving no room for complaints on your end. She moaned at your taste and it shot vibrations through you. You gripped the headboard with one hand, the other playing with her soft hair. The need was too great, and your hips had a mind of their own as you started grinding on her tongue. She kept it in place, letting you take control without care of the pains in her jaw she would receive later on.

“Yeah, let mommy ride that cute fucking face!” Her hips seemed to also have a mind of their own as they started bucking up, her cunt clenching around nothing as your’s clenched around her mouth. Her fingers trailed down to her hole, slipping in with ease as she fucked herself to your sounds. It made her wetter than you could ever imagine, and you internally thanked the neighbor who took a vacation, it would’ve been beyond embarrasing if they heard how loud you two were being. She had probably gotten complaints from others before about the noise, but your mind wasn’t even able to process that thought as the only thing invading it was her. Your girl. Your Kate.

“Oh, Katey, mommy’s gonna cum in that slutty mouth of yours.” You grinned to yourself, letting your hands yank her head into place. You knew she loved the way you spoke along with the way you pulled her hair, she was just a kinky little fuck.

“Shit! I’m cumming, baby!” You practically yelled as the coil in your stomach snapped, causing her face to be coated in your juices. Her tongue continued to lap up any of you that tried to get away, she was greedy for your taste.

Only moments later and you were on your knees sprawled out on the bed, watching as Kate attatched the harness to her waist. She smiled in victory when she did and grabbed something from the closet, hiding it behind her bacn as she slowly trailed back to you.

“So, I was wondering if we could try a little something tonight.” You were worried to hear what it was going to be, but when you saw handcuffs being placed next to your body it eased into excitement.

“Who exactly is going to be the one getting handcuffed?” Without responding she latched them both around your wrists, keeping your hands behind your back and smirking when realizing you were completely at her mercy.

“Wish I could just, take a picture of you like this. Maybe I’d send it to your husband, or your friend, make them realize how much of a slut you are for someone you just met.” She cupped open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue and making you keep it there until drool was rolling down your chin. She grabbed her polaroid camera, snapping the picture of you and letting it rest to dry. She turned you around, giving a few smacks to your ass and snapping another picture, capturing the red hand print.

“I can’t decide whether I want to gag you and make you drool like a brainless slut while I fuck you, or if I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours.” Her strap teased your ass, her fingers playing with your clit and making it difficult to speak. You whined when her tip eased into your tightest hole, only for her to pull out right after.

“We’ll save that for another day. But right now, I wanna fuck this precious pussy.” She eased into you once again, this time not pulling out as your warm walls wrapped around her and tried to force her to stay in place, missing the feeling of being full but needing the feeling of being filled by her even more.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I wish I had a real dick, then I’d never pull out.” Her tongue licked a stripe up your neck before she left multiple kisses like you had done to her earlier one, only this time she was the one making you cum. Her lips trailed down to your shoulder, leaving a shiver to traven down your spine.

“Awh, does mommy like being fucked like a whore?” Her thrusts started hard, giving you barely any time to get used to her size. It made you whimper seeing her have no mercy, yanking your hair back and making you rest your head in the nape of her neck. Her lips sloppily connected with yours, her tongue playing with your own as she could taste the alcohol on your breath, she knew hers was the same.

She suddenly disconnected herself from you, pushing you to lay flat on the bed as she got on top of you, straddling your back thighs and thrusting herself back into you. The strap rubbed delightfully against her clit and had you yearning for more. The camera that was sat close to you on the pillow was suddenly pulled into her grasp. She aimed it to your face, resting hers next to you and getting the perfect shot of the mascara running down your face along with the beads of sweat dripping down her chin. The lack of AC wasn’t helping her overheating problem, but it only made the sex that much hotter.

“Ah! Kate, I-” She didn’t let you finish before she was speaking, overrulling your voice with her own.

“Does Steve fuck you like this? Can his tiny dick ever come close to mine?” You shook your head quickly, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bed sheets with all of your might.

“My little whore, you are. You think you could ever be a mommy, hm? I don’t think mommy’s get tied up and fucked by their little girls, you agree?” Her harsh words were turning you on more than you’d like to admit, and she noticed. She could feel the wetness seeping onto your thighs.

“Oh, you disgusting little bitch. You fucking disgust me, Y/N.” She tugged on your hair once more, pulling your face back so she could whisper into your ear. Her mouth enclosed on your earlobe and your legs shook from her statement alone.

“You’re gonna cum already? Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t ‘ya!” Your orgasm was shortlived as she was already trying to pull another one out of you. You were gasping for air, only for your mouth to be filled by her fingers. Her nails were painted black and her rings were still on.

“You’re so fucking annoying with those pathetic whines, you think anyone’s gonna want to hear that shit? You’re lucky I’m even touching you right now, you dirty slut, I could be fucking anyone else but instead I’m listening to your whining.” Your hips were nearly bruising with her harsh pace, but that wasn’t stopping her.

“We’re not stopping until I’ve had my fill, baby girl.” If she had enough money, she would’ve bought a cum-filled strap-on so she could watch it pool out of you. The thought alone was what tipped her over the edge and caused you to release once again. You both came together, her free arm holding your body close to hers in order to feel you. Her lipstick was spread across different areas of your body and now smudged on her mouth. Your makeup was ruined and painted down your face. The marks that you had previously asked Kate not to give you were shining in the dim light of her room, and without even seeing them, you knew they were bad.

“Thank you for coming over, baby.” She undid you handcuffs after pulling out of you, tossing the toys at the end of the bed and pulling you into her, kissing you hard with no room to dissapoint.

“Mommy, huh?”

“It was the heat of the moment.” You both chuckled, your foreheads still resting together as she laid you down. You were both too tired for aftercare, but she promised you she’d do it in the morning. But you hesitated.

“You’re staying the night..right?” You sighed and refused to make eye contact with her, knowing that if you saw the hopefulness on her face it would only make it harder to deny her. But you made the mistake of looking, noticing the growing pout on her lips that made it impossible to resist her.

“I’ll call Steve, tell him I had some work business and was too tired to come home and am staying at Wanda’s.” She smiled, bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile, and hugged you tightly in fear of waking up with you gone. You knew you were in deep shit if you continued this, but you had always told your clients that there were times they’d have to put themsleves first, and this was one of them.

:))

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