#the way she leans into physical touch just enough to satisfy my love language without making me feel trapped

[vinylhazza]

For Keeps (G.D)

Summary: Jesse knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to say it, or rather demand it. Grayson, who carries respect and dignity like a shield of armor, walks the line of being the vanilla boyfriend he always thought she’d want, or the guy that listens to the devil on his shoulder and embellishes on the fantasies that won’t leave him alone every night. There is a first for everything, a time and place to try something -- or some one new. There is a chance to set the fire in motion. He might just take it.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: Strong sexual content, giving head, fingering, spitting, explicit language 

          There is a first for everything.

          The first time you ride a bike, the first time you try your favorite food, the first time you win an award, the first time you hear your favorite song, the first time you talk to the person you’re meant to spend the rest of forever with, the first time you overcome your worst fear, the first time you read your favorite book, the first time you travel to a different country, the first time you have thoughts that should damn you for eternity and for some...there is even a first time for eating pussy.

         It’s an embarrassment he’d never wanted anyone to discover let alone put to the test. Sure his friends had their time to talk about their extensive knowledge on female anatomy, but whenever the topic of him and Jesse doing anything outside the box he himself had placed them in, his lips were sealed. For one thing it wasn’t their business, for two he’s not entirely sure what he would say. He knew the time would come. He didn’t view their relationship like a race and he knew Jesse didn’t either. They’d been friends for too long and knew each other too well for him to base their relationship off of sex. 

       Grayson keeps his eyes glued to his hands holding Jesse’s hips tight -- unsure of what to do now that he’s got her beneath him and wanting him to have his way with her. He knows what he wants, but doubts that he has the courage to pursue it within him. He’d watch her with careful eyes as she peeled off each article of clothing before pulling him close by his belt loop and on to the bed to kiss her rough busy day away. A picnic was nice, but his complete and undivided attention was better. Even if his eyes trailing up and down every part of her body made her nervous. 

          He’d done plenty of things with his ex before Jesse, but none of those things had involved his lips and tongue anywhere beneath the waist. Not anything like he’s inevitably about to do. 

         “Cat caught your tongue?” Jesse had snickered minutes ago, a sly smirk lacing up her ruby red lips from so much kissing -- moment’s before he’d gotten them both all hot and bothered. He couldn’t help it when he was with her, his self control falters and he’s drunk off her touch once again, swimming in a pool of despair he can’t control. All he can think about is her. Wanting her. Needing her. Touching every single inch of her velvety skin. Wanting to do things to her. Wanting her to do things to him. Things he would blush at in the future.

         Jesse was a woman with desires he’d only dreamed of women having. She was shy at times but the devil danced in her bright eyes. Grayson knew she wanted things she’d never had the guts to say out loud and things she only wanted from him alone. It all made him a fierce kind of nervous, but gave him an electrified thrill. A challenge for him to explore the workings of her body and all the ways he can make her more satisfied than she’s ever been. He didn’t plan on letting her go anytime soon - and if he wanted to do her right, he had to go outside of his comfort zone for her.

         Knowing Jesse was more experienced did things to him that he couldn’t begin to hide -- but more than anything it made him jealous of every set of hands that had ever touched her skin before his. It made him reckless and competitive, focused and haughty. He was better than them, he could be better than them.

         He could rapture her into a whirlwind of pleasure that would ruin her image of every man except him, wanting no one's mouth but his, daydream of no one’s lips but his own, beg for no one else’s touch, want no one else’s hands but the ones holding her now. It wasn’t about him, this wasn’t about his pleasure for once, it was truly all about her. 

         Pulling him back into the flames, he’s burning up under her intense stare, waiting for him to do something, do anything. Anything but watch her long enough to find something less than stellar, less than grand, less than exceptional. With her fears unfolding she pulls him down for a kiss of her own, a soft feather of a thing he can feel all the way to his toes. She’d always been good at that, giving  him more to miss when she’s away. The way she hugs him close is one of those things.

         Grayson fell hard into love—which wasn’t particularly unusual for the hopeless romantic he was, but he always knew Jesse was set apart from the seasonal heartthrobs. He was truly bewitched by her creativity, wanderlust, unapologetic confidence, patience, and beauty.

         An enchantress she was, beautiful beyond anything he could ever deserve. Drop dead gorgeous with the personality to match, there wasn’t a head that didn’t turn when she walked into a room, not a man that didn’t fumble over their words at any opportunity to talk to her, not a woman who didn’t want to be her friend. Sure her beauty was undeniable, but her benevolent heart beat it all.

         He may never know why Jesse had leaned in to kiss him seven months ago save for three days in a hidden corner in Café Verona -- a quaint treasure he’d always hold dear to his heart. Fairy lights criss-crossed along the ceiling, soft Jazz waltzing with the beat of his heart, emerald green leather bench pressing into his thighs. But he’s glad she did. He’s glad she leaned in to kiss him when he’d been building up the nerve for weeks. So afraid to go there but more afraid of not knowing what would happen if he didn’t. He’s glad she took his chin in between her fingers to hold him still enough to feel her lips press to his securely, a warmth swarming in his chest where the heart shaped hole once was.

          If he flipped through the pages of his memory, he would remember a statue-like stillness about him before he sunk into her touch, caging her head in his large careful hands. Feeling the gasp she tried to hide, the smell of grapefruit shampoo and the way her flushed cheeks felt under his stroking thumbs. He would see himself fall into her, around her and through her, off the edge of the rocky cliff and into the dark blissful deep of nothing but her.

          He’d be eternally grateful she looked at him with utmost sincerity and whispered with a raw kind of intensity that he’d “driven her mad you see” -- and he’d heard it then, the brittleness of her voice because fear rattles her to the core, and she had been scared out of her mind. A crack that tracked through her careful confession and to the root of him. Jesse was scared of what he meant, what he was in terms of her heart, what he could be if she continued to kiss him the way she was.

          In that quiet moment he remembered what made her so deeply rooted in his heart: the laugh that rattled him, the soft smell of peaches and vanilla, the way she never drives without sunglasses because her mom who passed away much too early did the same, the dance she does when she finally eats the first bite of food after damn near breaking the world in half in hanger, the way she punches the roof of her car after making it through a yellow light because her best friend in high school did the same, the way she always turns her spoon upside down when eating ice cream, and the way she always has answers for everything no matter what topic, even the way she laughs entirely too hard at Family Feud. 

         For that reason alone he waited for the physical parts to come when they may. It was new and exciting sure, and he’d always loved her heart of course, but her body was uncharted territory. He was patient, yes. A gentleman guarding some assumed virtue, even if he knew better than to think she was anything but a seductress. Patient enough to tell her no when she’s had one too many drinks and not enough discipline. They’d been friends before anything else - the best of friends with a foundation of trust. He’s spent years trying to gain that trust and he vowed to keep it.

          Of course he could have been that guy on many occasions: possessive, selfish, greedy and crude. He could have played his cards and dealt his dirty hand at the wrong moment and still pulled out ahead. I mean hell, how often do guys get out of the friend-zone? But he wasn’t that guy. No matter the relationship status — they weren’t ready.

         They hadn’t been ready to cross that carefully drawn line in the sand, not until now. With the strawberry White Barn candle burning in the corner on the cluttered desk one could expect from a college student and a half full can of Arizona tea on the night stand...her face lit with a mystical kind of magic he’d only ever seen the day she leaned back after their first official kiss. 

         “Hold my hair.”

         Grayson found the words slipping off his tongue easier than they’d come all night. All he’s planned on was a simple date in the park that was tucked away and secluded from all the people that could interrupt, he’d even brought her favorite book and laid back on a soft patch of grass to listen to her melodic voice read to him. He’d planned to come back and share a peck or two while watching a new episode of Daredevil and holding her through the night. She’d had a long day full of texts to him, trying to get him to give her the okay to walk out of her low-paying job and not look back. He never planned on laying her down on his bed and caressing every inch of her skin until he was finally delving into a place he’d never been quite like this.

          He was nervous but he could do anything, be anything with her hand in his hair and her kind eyes watching him defile her. He just knew from this moment on he would have a reputation to uphold, as cocky as it sounded. He had to prove he wasn’t as lost as he felt. He felt like a virgin all over again, like he was doing something raw and real and scary. A secret only the wrinkled sheets would remind him of later.

          Her touch, her soothing him through something that frightened him has always been a crutch for him to lean on. When he got in a fight with his brother, she was there to comb through his hair and talk him through the proper apology, when he decided to change majors and had a breakdown so crippling he couldn’t breathe she rocked him through it until his breath was even once again, when he wrecked his new car on the way home from a party he never should have been at she was right there to give him a kiss on the cheek and help him call the insurance company and his erratic mother who loved her like a daughter. She led him through the rough parts of life and then some.

           He never imagined she would be leading him through something so sensual, but he needed her bringing him back to earth all the same.

          Jesse obliged with a grin of her own, feeling him shuffle down to trail a string of kisses across her torso and down to the base of her need and desire. The fireball of want burned in her stomach, turning her rational thoughts brown and charred. He was good at that, making her need him fiercely. She’d never wanted anyone so much, and even if she thinks back to past flings - she’d never been satisfied like she was with Grayson, and they’d done much less.

         “What are you thinking?” Jesse wonders, distracted by his soft supple lips and his nibbling at her hip, but wanting to hear the inner workings of his brain. Her fingers fidget, wanting to push him by his brown mop of hair down lower - just to feel him at last. She needed this distraction, she just needed his help to forget. Not that she hadn’t been waiting for months for this exact moment, there was just urgency in the way she’s stripped herself bare before him. 

          She almost expects him to wait for her direction, but jerks against him when he takes the lead all on his own. How could he not with her as his complete mercy, giving him the fuck me eyes and twisting a lock if hair around her finger? 

          Grayson thinks on that as he trails his mouth down, down, down to slick his tongue up the base of her, smirking to himself when she wiggles against him. “I’m thinking that I like you this way.”

          The contact was a shock to her nervous system and a promise of what was soon to come if she kept tempting him the way she was. She was a heathen with angel eyes. Someone infatuated with his innocence (at least he was more innocent than she) and curiosity to learn every curve and dip of her body. He made her feel powerful, unstoppable, undeniable. She craved it as much as he craved her own lips tracking across his skin - in the heat of the moment or in the still of the night.

          “Naked you mean?” She laughs then, trying to keep herself at least somewhat under control now that he’s grown some balls and taken the first step. She’s shocked momentarily that she didn’t have to practically order him into touching her.

           She grips her breasts at another bold swipe of his tongue. Rolling her hardened nipples between her fingers and tensing at the sparks flying up her center. The feeling of him spreading her open, blowing against her throbbing clit is almost too much to bear. Jesse curses then, a soft “fuck” she tries to reel back before he gets too big of a head. She knows it fell on eager ears when he delivers another bold stripe of his tongue up her center -- slow and deliberate. 

           “Unguarded,” he finally grumbles, rubbing away the goosebumps that pepper her thighs. She thinks for a moment that she could gave turned off the ceiling fan circling over top of them, but feared she might burn up if it wasn’t for the white blades blowing on her crown of hair going every which way on the pillow. 

          She ignores how right he is - that she’s never been this vulnerable with him before, but instead rolls her eyelids shut to feel him really delve into her - opening his mouth and pressing his tongue to her flat. This is just what she needed, her favorite person trying something new and succeeding at it. 

            For someone that’s never given head, he was pulling it off. He was going to ruin her.

           Glancing down at the yellow glow of the lamp illuminating the right side of his face, Jesse curled her fingers into his plush head of hair once again, somewhere between heaven and hell with no real knowledge of the difference.

           She moans at his lips wrapping around her, the suction to her lower region and the way his thumbs dig into her skin to hold her in place. No running this time, she had no choice but to feel it all. This is what she wanted right? 

          “This feel okay?” he teases, tentatively trailing the tip of his tongue around the place she wanted most. He loved to see her eyes alight with that devilish incomprehensible lust. He was truly winging it, doing anything he’d heard from friends or watched himself late at night, anything to further her soft pants and moans tumbling out of her O shaped mouth. She was too good to be true and felt like one lucky bastard. 

           Nodding down to him she groans, wanting him latched to her. “M-more than okay just keep going.”

          He never knew it could feel so pleasurable to be the giver and not the receiver nine times out of ten. He didn’t know how selfish he’d been and the opportunities he'd missed to feel compliant and...obedient. He liked it. He loved it. He loved the position he was in - her looking down at him like the goddess she was and always had been, him crouching down at the end of the bed to devour her in the best way he could, his hair disheveled, eyes dark with hunger, hands gripping her tight.

          He lets instinct take the wheel, peppering kisses to her clit and bringing his own  hand down to slip in a finger to add extra stimulation - pleased when Jesse releases another string of curses. Fowl language huh? Wonder what she’d do if he stopped-

          “You’re such a dick-“ she tugs at his roots, rolling her hips into his mouth that savors  her now, lips slick with her wetness. She tasted good, he’d concluded. It wasn’t anything like what he imagined it would be, no, it was better. It felt better than all of the horror stories he’d made up in his head. He’s sure if he wanted to - he could stay right down between her legs for hours -- until his lips were sore and his tongue tired. Stopping wasn’t an option. Not when she’s been waiting so long, fantasized too often. She huffs out again “Thought you’ve never done this before.”

            That must be a good sign, right?

           “Never,” he slurps at her, shaking his head and groaning into her core. He felt the slickness of her on his cheeks now. Bowing down to eat her out was harder than it looked, especially with back problems as it was. 

            Focused and drunk on Jesse’s gentle hip thrust into his mouth he hugs her thighs and stands upright, just off the edge of the bed, bringing her lower half up in the air with him. He can feel her trembling now, wide eyes gleaming at him with surprise and delight at the new and better position.

            She was losing it. She’d had him compliant at first, her soft-hearted boyfriend trying something new...but damn he was tugging the ropes from between her fingers and leading her to a path less traveled. Quick learner he was.

           “Grayson put me down! Have you lost your mind?” Jesse squealed, grinning at his closed eyes and moving lips, deaf to her antics. She was expected something quick, maybe even simple, but him switching up positions was not in the game plan as great as it was. 

           She could see it now, the guy that was always hiding just beneath the surface. She could see how her sounds urged him on and made him try harder. She could see his arms shaking from the weight of her legs and the effort it took to hold her pussy as close to him as he could. She could feel the heavy breath fanning out across her pelvis from his nose. She could feel the tickle of his hair dangling down and whispering across the skin of her stomach. She could feel that same ball of fire seated in her stomach slip lower and lower with each passing second - until the words that fell out of her mouth were nothing but strings of profanity would make a sinner blush.

             It was going to sear her in half, that fucking ball of fire. Hot lava stirring up a flood she couldn’t stop. It was splitting her in half just as his digits were now, pumping into her hard and fast, curling at his knuckles. His rings gleam from the yellow lamp-light and shock her when they touch her dewy skin. She had lost all sense of control.

            Hearing his own moans, hearing how desperate he was to keep eating her pussy and make her feel better than anyone had, got her inching towards the edge. It was a low kind of growl itching at his throat.

            The taste of her blurred his senses, the soft smell of her making his mind spin out of control, the tightening walls of her cunt around his fingers fucking her fast, the light sheen of sweat that glowed in the dim light of his room - he was a madman with no direction but forward. He had to keep going, for stopping would surely break them both. He would love to tease her, but knew if he stopped one more time she would kill him in a heartbeat. 

          “Open your fucking eyes and watch me.” He barked down to her, stopping only for a moment to glare at her. His fingers continued their fast paced in and out, in and out, in and out.

                         He’d figured if he was going to take it all the way, he needed to pull every string. Needed to pull out the nasty daydreams and make them a reality. This is something he would have for keeps. Something he’d want to do over and over, something he couldn’t wait to do again. Something he’d want to remember. 

          Peeling her eyes open she sobbed at the sight of him spitting into her pussy with a smile, staring at her darkly. Light eyes blacked into pits he ruined her through and through. He had to be lying, he just had to be.

          “Fast learner,” Grayson sneers, leaning forward to smear his saliva around her slick folds, arms circling her midsection to hold her close again.

           “ Fuckfuckfuckfuck- keep fu- keep going!” Jesse begs, barely holding on to the light threatening to slip away into the fire burning her up. “Doing so good Gray, so fucking good.”

             She had discovered soon in the relationship and the minimal sexual acts they’d indulged in that Grayson was a man that adored praise. He wanted someone to tell him how good he was doing, even if he already knew it. He wanted someone to look him in the eyes just as she was doing now and watch him succeed. He wanted complete undivided attention, verbal acknowledgment. 

              He sucked at her still, sliding his tongue into her quickly then — remembering someone in a poorly shot amateur porn video did the same to the tatted up blonde he was practically fucking to death, and hoped it would have the same effect on his beautiful princess begging for him to keep going. He kept note while he watched the video, knowing one day he would be standing where he is now relishing in the gold mine that belonged to him. He fucker her with his tongue, humming into her cunt for the added stimulation. 

               Fuck all she was the end of him. “Pretty pussy all wet for me, yeah? Want to cum? Bet you doubt me huh? Thought I wouldn’t do you right…”

               He chucked at the vigorous nodding of her head, the eyes rolling in the back of her head, the hand that leaves his hip to pull at her own hair. Her eyes squeezing shut in panic now that she feels the tip of the iceberg coming up fast. 

               “Don’t even know how crazy you drive me, how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

               Hearing him admit it only made her thighs quiver against his strong arms, only made her want more, made her creep dangerously close to the edge she was for once in her life afraid to fall off of. The crash into the sea would be the biggest shock she’s ever had. Jesse tried to focus on her breathing, trading the heaving for squealing when he dipped his tongue in her entrance to give her something to fantasize about. She’d never had someone tongue fuck her, let alone stair into her soul while they did it. 

              Fuck he was good. Too fucking good.

             “Baby you have t-to slow down,” she warns, the big splash terrifying and so close. He was a wicked man for doing just the opposite, spreading her legs wider and shaking his head against her again, eyes squeezed shut like he knew what would happen in only a few seconds.

               “Grayson step back,” she tried to warn more firmly, afraid of the unfamiliar feeling of something new about to happen, embarrassed already but too worked up to stop it. “Shit - Grayson step back!”

                And there it was, the strongest orgasm she’d ever had and certainly the wettest. Her release soaked the bed beneath, sheets spotted with her arousal and breath stolen from her lungs. She’s not sure when Grayson had dropped her, or whether her convulsing body wiggled out of his grasp during the black out she’d just had. She was spread on the bed in her own mess, her chest flushed, damp hair stuck to her forehead in waves, vision blurred, eyelids drooping in exhaustion, hand somehow in Graysons.

              He’s there then. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once, his hand a ghost on her forehead brushing away those tendrils of hair, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles with tender care, his lips smoothing the furrow of her brows. Grayson is lifting her without a word, caging her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and smoothing her head against his chest to feel the weight of her there - just to feel the heat of her consume him.

              “Holy fuck,” she breathes, spent. 

              “I hope it wasn’t too much,” he whispers into her hair, hand smoothing over the locks while rocking her around the room, mind racing with every image of what he’d just done and the feeling of complete bliss flooding his body.

                He’s almost worried she fell asleep in his arms until he feels the shaking he can only assume is laughter, before she’s hugging him tighter. “Idiot. I can’t believe you’ve never done that. And I can’t believe I’m this tired. Feel like a rookie.”

               “Guess I passed the test then?”

               “Flying colors.”

                Jesse nuzzles in as far as she can, tucking in her arms against his chest and letting the state of Nirvana wash over her. With a sigh Jesse thinks over the shocking events of her boyfriend being 100% nastier than she’d initially thought — not that she’s complaining.

               She barely remembers Grayson running a bath, or setting her in the steaming tub with a kiss, or waiting for him to strip the bed with a giddiness sitting in his chest at all that they’d done, barely remembers him joining her in the tub and catching soap in the calm of his hand to smith the suds over her post-sex body. That’s the only way she would describe herself in the moment, her skin felt sensitive to the touch, sparks still shooting through her with the feeling of his hands on her.

             What Jesse does remember is laying with Grayson in a bed freshly made, arm draped over his stomach, head resting against his arm, lips peppering kisses against his chest randomly through-out the night. She remembers the feeling of adoration and understanding. What they’d done was both the most foul thing she’d ever done, but also the most liberating and beautiful experience. To lose yourself in another person in such a way that you’re utterly consumed by them was...foreign to the pair laying together in the still of the night.

              Jesse waited until Grayson was softly snoring until she said the only thing she’d never had the guts to tell him in the months they’d been dating. He’d been waiting on it patiently. It was different between friends, but it meant so much more when you don't want to say it to anyone else for the rest of your life. The moment she says it, she can’t ever take it back. Maybe that’s why she chooses the early hours of the morning to lean in and press her lips against his feather soft, blinking back the mist clouding her vision. 

              “Don’t know if you could tell...but I'm kind of in love with you...so just be patient with me please I’m trying for you.”

              Maybe she would get the guts one day to say the words while he’s awake, maybe face to face or with the lights off because she has some kind of comfort in the dark, or maybe it would slip out on accident. In any way that it happens, she hopes he will smile. She hopes that he knows how insanely incandescently happy he makes her each and every day, and how honored she feels that she got to experience another first with him.She hopes he will be comforted that his feelings are 100% reciprocated. She hopes that she gets to see that beautiful  smile he wears on special occasions -- the true smile that he doesn't show too often. For now she presses her lips to his once again, smiling softly as the slow ride and fall of his chest, arm holding her close, the ring she won him out of a shitty machine in the corner of a tattoo shop he’d stopped into on a whim secured on a thin chain around his neck, and the fluttering of his eyelashes while he dreamed. 

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[thran-duils]

Was Ich Liebe (P.1)

Title: Was Ich Liebe (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark.  Tony becomes enamored with a stripper at a club his hedonistic friend Thor owns. A casual sexual relationship quickly becomes possessive and the reader sees more of the underground mafia life than she would like to. The cherry on top is that Tony is married and so is she. Him to a woman who has no intention of losing her throne at any cost and the reader to a deadbeat alcoholic. Feeling trapped by both her previous life and the suffocating hold Tony is trying to put on her, the reader steals away in the night, which is not going to go over well. Words: 4,301 Warnings (for whole fic, more may be added): Dub-con, smut, infidelity, stripping, vaginal fingering, public sex, possessive behavior, angst, degradation kink, violence, physical abuse, domestic violence, language, drug use, alcoholism, death Author’s Note: I did not have the ability to do a one shot. As usual, this is 18+.

Intro || Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Your legs and core were burning as you ended your routine to “Walk” by Pantera. You slowly slid down the pole as it was coming to an end, ending in a deep squat at the end, ass towards the crowd.

Turning back against the lights shining at you, you crawled on your knees seductively taking bills being held out and swiping up ones that had been tossed.

The tips were good tonight. You swiped your top from the ground you had thrown off halfway through much to the pleasure of the crowd, showing off your glow in the dark skull hand pasties. Happy autumn. And you walked off, holding your cash and looking forward to switching back to six inch heels to walk around now that your set was over.

Fixing your winged eyeliner, you spotted Thor coming in through the door to the dressing room. Everyone straightened up at his presence. He came straight over to you though. “Perle room, Y/N.”

That was a private customer room. It was easier being on the stage because you were blinded from the crowd for a lot of it with the lights. One on one was harder to dissociate since they were the only other soul in the room.

“You’re picking the songs. He paid for three.”

That was always a gamble; depending on what genre the customer liked, it could go up or down hill really quick.

Thor leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “And he’s a friend of mine, so behave, you hear? Make sure he leaves satisfied. He loves ass so grind, yeah?”

A friend of his was shady no doubt. But you nodded, making eye contact through the mirror. Thor smirked before planting a kiss on your temple.

“Good set by the way.”

“Thank you,” you said as he straightened up and turned to leave you.

Shit. That meant you needed to change. Which is why you always brought an extra set of lingerie. You went to your locker and pulled out the black set.

<><><>

Since it was going to be more intimate, you chose “Was Ich Liebe” by Rammstein to start. It would allow a lot of grinding.

When you walked in, he was already sitting on the opposite of the dark room in the black light. Even in the darkness, you recognized the man. It was not hard to do so with his high standing in the mob.

Tony Stark.

He was to be treated like a high-ranking customer and you were doing to do that.

You started on the pole, circling slowly before climbing and hooking your leg to spin controlled around.

Sliding down, you crawled on all fours to him, pulling yourself up by holding onto his knees that were already spread in anticipation of you. Turning around you ground your ass into his pelvis. Leaning back your face brushed his.

“What’s your name?” he breathed into your ear. You told him your fake name and his lips tugged up at the corner briefly. “You’re real name, sweetheart.”

“That is my real name.”

He chuckled, his nose nuzzling into your neck. “If you insist so, sweetheart.”

You fell into the music, alternating between him and the pole. Your second song started, “Problem” by Natalia Kills.

You moved back to his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs as you grinded. Which was okay until his fingers slipped past your thong, cupping your sex as you ground into him. You lost rhythm with your lap dance and his breath was hot at your ear. “Just like that, keep going. You are doing beautifully.”

Men getting handsy in the private rooms was not unusual. Especially not ones who paid like he had but you workers knew to dispel it as much as possible. Do not let them get too bold.

You had to be crafty about how you maneuvered out of the situation though. He was Thor’s friend and you knew he was powerful. You resumed grinding, and his nose brushed your neck, inhaling deeply. His fingers threatened to push in and you reacted quickly. You moved out of his lap to dip down in your dancing, forcing his hand away. You were still doing what Thor wanted, giving him a good show. Your hands gripping your ankles, you moved your ass in rhythm with the song.

Tony was not going to be deterred though. Gripping your hips firmly, he pulled you back into his lap with a rough tug. He forced your legs open again and his hand was snaking past your panties again.

As the song sang about claiming your body, Tony’s fingers slid into your pussy and you jumped away from his embrace. You stood a couple feet away, holding your arms tightly around yourself. He was frozen, looking at you expectantly.

“You… you’re not supposed to touch us. It’s against the rules,” you told him, keeping the tremor out of your voice miraculously. You knew what trouble could come from denying a man like him.

Tony brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off slowly, tasting you. Your heart was hammering with the intense stare off he was having with you. He was handsome as all hell, but you knew he was the type of dangerous you should not have in your life.

He finally shrugged. “Noted. My apologies. I’ll behave, scouts honor.”

He beckoned you back with two fingers.

You swallowed your unease and came back, resuming. He kept his hands off of you like he vowed he was going to. Still, you spent a lot of the time on the pole during your final song “Inertia Creeps” by Massive Attack.

At the end, Tony stood up and he came up to you at the pole. You looked up at him with curiosity; men usually did not move when you left the room.

He smiled devilishly down at you and held out a couple of folded hundreds. He was giving you $200 in tips? Your eyes widened and he forced them into your hand.

Before you could react, he leaned in and caught your mouth. His lips were soft but his force was rough. You were dazed when he pulled away. He winked at you.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart. Thanks for the sweet dreams.”

<><><>

Next weekend you were called to the Perle room again. And again, you found Tony there. He chose the set list this time and had you starting out with “Dissolved Girl” by Massive Attack. He had enjoyed the other song so much, he wanted to see you perform more of the album in front of him.

“I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. It hasn’t worked.”

His hands came up, caressing your breasts. You turned your head and his hands loosened. He laughed, nipping at your ear.

“Right, right. The rules. Darling, do you know how hard it is to remember those around you?”

“I’ve heard that before. It doesn’t make the rules any less real,” you returned, pulling away from his embrace and sashaying back to the pole.

He was watching you hungrily as you worked yourself around the pole. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.

“How would you like to make some money outside this club?”

Dipping low, you met his eyes and saw he was serious.

“If you’re asking me to fuck you, I’m married.”

That was information you rarely gave out. But Tony seemed the type of man you needed to put a hard wall up with.

Tony gave you a wide grin. “No, not fucking. Just fun. I wanna have a night out. I just want company.”

Some of the girls did escort work like that. And since it was outside the club you got to keep everything, no tax was taking off the top. And your electricity bill was going to be higher next month since winter was coming.

You did not answer him immediately, rolling the idea around. Knees spread on the ground, dancing, you met his eyes again. He was still waiting for an answer.

Getting back up sultrily, you came to sit back in his lap. He hummed in approval as you said, “Sure. Where we going?”

<><><>

“Going to whore yourself out again?” Michael asked, his words already slurring.

You were wearing a peacoat coat over your dress but he could still it was short. He disapproved of you stripping but he always backtracked when you were able to pay the bills. And more so, bring him his favorite bottle of liquor every other night. Especially since he rarely brought any money in himself. You felt an obligation to him since you had been high school sweethearts.

“For your information, no. I’m going out with friends.”

A white lie.

“What friends? Your co-hooker friends? Glad you keep such great company. A bunch of pathetic bitches just like you, starving for validation…”

“No. Well-paying friends who want my company,” you spat without thinking, angry he was always putting you down.

He got up out of his chair and you moved quickly. The last time he had laid hands on you, you had to take a week off of work and Thor had been pissed.

Your hand was on the door handle, and you had it opened quick. He stumbled and that gave you enough time to get the door closed and move down the hallway. The elevator was not an option cause it was too slow and you took the stairwell, not missing him yelling expletives at you.

He would be passed out well before you got home.

<><><>

Your dress clung tight to your body. You looked around the restaurant, worrying that you were going to be stood up. You had been here for twenty minutes and had ordered a glass of wine.

You were halfway through it without a sign of him. This place was five star, and you did not want to do a walk of shame.

Thankfully for you, Tony sauntered in five minutes later and he slid into the booth across from you, adjusting his jacket as he did. Leaning back against the booth, he threw his arm across the back of it, relaxing back, looking at you. You had chosen the seat across the table.

“You’re punctual. That’s new.”

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“Darling. I never am. Next time let’s ride together. Reservations for 7? I’m here at 7:30 at best and they know to keep the table for me.”

The first date had not even started, and he was already talking about the next.

He suddenly noticed you had a chair and as the waiter approached. He gestured at you and said, “What’s this chair doing here? Is there supposed to be more people than can fit on this booth?”

“Uh, no, Mr. Stark. It was just put there in case someone wanted it—"

“Do you want it?” Tony asked you, interrupting.

You knew the answer he wanted. Calmly, you stood up and moved around the table to sit right up next to him. His hand lying across the back of the booth caressed your shoulder.

“No, here is fine,” you said.

“That’s what I thought. Now, let’s get you something delectable to eat to match how I know you taste. Top notch deserves the same in return.”

He winked salaciously and you blushed. This off-limits escorting was not going to last long; you could sense that. He was not a man that would be satiated with just a taste. He wanted the whole course.

And that whole course was you spread out for him whenever he so pleased.

<><><>

On the fourth date, he took the plunge.

His town car took the opposite way from your turn, and you looked at him.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere where we can enjoy each other fully.”

You opened your mouth, but Tony held a finger up to your lips, winking. There was a sinister feeling behind that wink, and you closed your lips. He smiled in approval, “You’re so well behaved, sweetheart. You’re going to be a lot of fun.”

At the hotel room, legs spread wide, Tony’s large hands held you at your waist as he drove up into you hard and quick. He was not a gentle lover.

He rocked forward quickly and in one fell swoop had managed to maneuver you to pull you with him and you ended up on top. Lining himself back up with your entrance, he plummeted back in, resuming his unforgiving pace. You cried as he held your arms tight, keeping you in place to use like his own personal toy. You were an object to him that he wanted to possess.

<><><>

Leg crossed over the other, relaxing back in the armchair, Tony demanded, “What’s her name?”

Thor told Tony your fake name without missing a beat as he worked across the desk. Tony had come here for answers and Thor would be hard pressed to give them away completely.

Tony stared at him across the table unimpressed and Thor stopped typing, noticing. He simpered, “Tony, it’s for her safety.”

“Are you afraid for her? Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because her husband is a real piece of work.” He noticed the look on shocked Tony’s face, and he said, “Yeah, she wasn’t lying about that. I’m assuming she told you she was married. He might be a deadbeat, but he knows how to load a punch. If he found out she was doing more than dancing, I would be afraid for her. He’s already made her miss a couple weeks of work because of his Rambo fists when he’s gotten riled up just about the dancing. Which makes no sense to me because he barely brings money in, and she is essentially the sole breadwinner.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “And you want her to stay with that?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Seems like you did.”

Thor snorted, “No, I just know what lengths you are willing to go to get your way. And I’m not sure I want you taking this on. As your friend. It’s advice.”

“It won’t be hard. I want her, so it’ll be worth the effort,” Tony said.

<><><>

“It was nice,” you told Tony as you sat in the back of his town car when he asked you how you had enjoyed the night.

He had taken you to a high-end seafood restaurant on a large boat docked at the marina. You meant what you said; it was delicious.

“I thought you would like it,” Tony stated, scooting closer and an arm slipped around your shoulder, holding you closer.

He was staring into your eyes, and you smelled the bourbon on his breath. You no doubt reeked of alcohol yourself. There was something lurking beneath his gaze though. And you soon found out what.

“Y/N,” Tony murmured. You froze and he smiled at your shock. His fingers trailed up your arm and came to cup you under the chin. “That’s such a lovely name.”

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “How…?”

“Money talks,” Tony informed you as his hand spread to hold you beneath the jaw, fingers trailing behind your ear. You tried to pull away but his arm around you held tight, stopping your movement. He smirked briefly, “I’m not here to hurt you, darling. Don’t ever think that. I just simply adore you. I wanted to know about you. I want to take this further.”

“Further than just the bed?”

“Yes. I want you entirely.”

His firm tone was sincere. What had you gotten yourself into?

He pressed the button, and the partition went up between the two of you and the front seat. His hand left your neck to snake up your dress. “I want to call you by your real name when I take you this time.” He kissed you roughly and his lips brushed yours as he vowed, “I’ll have you whenever and wherever.”

<><><>

Months later, you awoke in the king bed in the mountain top suite. Sneaking a peek at the bedside clock, you saw it was almost four in the morning. You needed to leave. Tossing a look at Tony, seeing he was still sleeping, you tried to unravel yourself from his embrace as gently as you could.

But it was futile.

Tony yanked you back to him as you tried to crawl out of the bed. You protested lightly and he shushed you by roughly rolling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours, growing in intensity as he woke from slumber. His leg wrapped around you, trapping you against him. His cock was already growing hard again after the short nap the two of you had taken after the last tussle in the sheets.

You tried to make space as you said, “You know if I’m going to get home the time I said I was going to, I have to leave now.”

You were hours from home. He had taken you up into the mountains for the last couple of days. You had said you were going on a work trip with your coworkers per your managers request to dance at a new club. Michael would never know. That is unless you came home at the wrong time; then he would start to get suspicious.

The last couple of days had been really nice. Tony had been kind… until tonight. He always treated you to the best and made sure you were well taken care of. But he had gotten… off when he noticed you tonight having taken a nice tone and smiled at a busboy as you dropped off dishes near the kitchen entrance that was out of your way. You had only been trying to be nice to the guy. You knew what it was like working customer service and you only wanted to make his job a little bit easier. And he was not hard on the eyes. Receiving small flirtations was harmless in your eyes and it boosted your mood. It had done just that for the guy.

But upon coming back to the room, Tony was callous, and you had to pry him out of his shell with sweet words and caresses. He had been condescending, asking you if you got off on pleasing men in front of him. When you had told him you did not know what he was talking about he had torn your dress down the front, ignoring your shocked cries at his brutal behavior, and forced you onto the bed. The tatters of the dress had been torn from you completely and he had done the same to your underwear and then forcibly removed your bra from you. He had not even waited for you to get wet before slamming up into you.

“Who gives a fuck what that good-for-nothing husband of yours thinks?” He nipped at your neck, sucking in roughly. His hands gripped and held you close.

“My face does,” you retorted, trying to unwind yourself from him. But Tony was quick, locking you back down. “Tony, please.”

You managed to unlock yourself despite his grabbing and you slid off the bed, hitting the ground, your ass hitting it roughly. He exhaled sharply, glaring down at you and you moved quickly backwards, getting to your feet unsteadily. He was already getting out of the bed, and you moved quickly, snatching up your bag. Your dress was ruined, which was no matter. You could return in your sweats and top.

Tony was on you though and his grip on your bag was tight and he yanked back, drawing you with it. You let go as you stumbled as to not lose your balance and face plant. He used his momentum to throw the bag across the room by the sliding glass door.

“Tony! Stop playing games!” you said desperately, trying to move towards where he threw it, but he stepped in your way. “You know I have to get ready! You can’t be jealous of him. You know what this is.”

“So what if I’m jealous?” Tony asked, continuing to advance towards you and you kept walking backwards. Your back hit the wall, stopping your advancement. “The thought of you with him makes me sick.”

“He’s my husband—"

Tony slammed his fist on the counter, and you jumped back against the wall, causing it to shake slightly. “Stop making fucking excuses! He’s a piece of shit and you know it! Why won’t you just accept me?”

“Tony, I do—” you tried to placate him.

“Don’t you lie to me,” he warned in a snarl. “If that were true, you would be loyal to me and me only. You know how I feel. I want you. Wholly.”

That was so unfair of him to say when you knew he was married. But you also knew better than to point that out. Not when he was this belligerent; you knew belligerent men were hardly able to be reckoned with and calmed down. No, you needed to use other facts.

“And you did, this whole weekend,” you pointed out in shaky tones.

Tony’s laugh was maniac, “’Weekend’. Yeah, that’s what I mean when I say wholly.”

You tried to dodge around him quickly to go towards your bag, but he jolted out and grabbed you around the waist, swinging you around. You kicked your legs as he dragged you. You bounced on the mattress, not fully on it but not fully off it either. You grabbed at the sheets to get leverage and you got grounded just as his hand closed around your ankle. You pulled away with ferocity, landing on the other side of the bed. Scrambling, you grabbed your bag. Tony’s arm came around you, pulling you back.

“Tony!” you cried out, your voice cracking. “Please stop!”

There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. Tony swore underneath his breath and let you go, causing you to stumble because you had been relying on him.

He snatched up his briefs and threw them on before storming towards the door as another knock came.

He opened the door a crack and sighed frustrated, “What?”

You heard Happy, “Uh, I was coming to get Y/N… it’s time to take her back? I went to bed super early so I would be ready to take her back now?”

You were relieved to hear someone with sense.

“Fuck!” Tony snapped, tossing the door open and you squeaked, still naked. You rushed towards the hall to grab your sweats and sweater out and throw those on.

When you emerged again, Happy was waiting by the door and Tony was necking the bottle of bourbon he had bought. He slammed it back down on the counter and glared at you. You went to go towards him to kiss him goodbye to try to start to smooth things over, but he held up his hand forcibly and you stopped. He took another swig without looking at you.

Hurt, you turned towards Happy, who was looking at Tony with scrutiny as well before following you out the door. You fell asleep on the car ride home and when you arrived back at your place, Tony still had not texted you.

<><><>

Clutching your duffel bag, you climbed the stairs a week later to your apartment. Tony had been clipped in his responses since Happy had taken you home. You were growing simultaneously frustrated and nervous with possessive, aggressive behavior.

Upon walking in, you saw the living room was upturned. Your blood chilled and you immediately dropped your bag, going for the switchblade in your front pocket of it. It was out as you grabbed your cell phone out of your bag.

Just as you were about to dial 911, Tony emerged from the hallway, holding up his hand. “Darling, it’s just me.”

Dropping the hand with your phone, you demanded, “’Just you’? What are you doing?”

Tony shrugged, “What I needed to do.”

You did not like the way that sounded at all. And then you noticed all the blood on his hands and on the wetness on his black jacket, which was no doubt more blood. Your hand clutched your switchblade tighter. Tony’s eyes dropped to it, and he looked back up at you.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need for that. It’s just me.”

“’Just you’? Where’s Michael?”

Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed. He turned his back and walked towards the kitchen. He flipped the switch on in there as he moved towards the sink. You moved to follow him and upon seeing more of the kitchen, you saw Carol and Rhodes were sitting at the table, having a drink.

“Where’s Michael?” you repeated.

Washing his hands in the sink now, without a care for the blood splattering, Tony told you, “I could have used a gun, but this was personal.”

The horror of what he was admitting without outright saying it was washing down on you. Your hand wavered, threatening to drop your switchblade.

“You…you…” you stammered; your chest was tight.

Tony continued rinsing the blood off of his hands, unbothered. He finished as you stood there frozen by your shock. Shaking his hands off, he wiped them on his black jeans and turned back to face you. As soon as he started to come close, you regained sense of self and your hand gripped tighter on your blade again.

Tony was not having any of that. He was quick and gripped your wrist tightly, twisting it so you cried out, dropping the blade. He held you up to the wall by your throat.

His word was law sinking around you, “No more excuses, Y/N. You’re all mine now.”

~~~

Song list to set the mood for me while writing:

Was Ich Liebe -- Rammstein Walk -- Pantera Problem -- Natalia Kills Inertia Creeps -- Massive Attack Dissolved Girl -- Massive Attack Just For Me -- Saint Jhn feat. Sza

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney  @biiskuitx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

[cacoetheswriting]

champagne problems, ch.10

Spencer is in love with you, but you’re engaged to someone else.

Chapter Ten: Feels Like We Only Go Backwards: A choice is made. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: swearing, heartbreak, unrequited / unreciprocated love, jealousy, talk of breakup/s, serious serious angst, disclaimer [& spoiler warning], this chapter is not a happy one. this whole series is a real slow burn.

series masterlist

A/N: as always, thank you for all the love you’re giving this story. we have about six chapters left to the end and words cannot describe how grateful i am to you for sticking with me and my rambling writing. ENJOY !

-

A significant weight was lifted off Spencer’s shoulders the second he told you how he truly felt about you. Actually, it was more the second you said you loved him back.

Even though the two of you distanced yourselves from one another, giving you the space to really think about your future and who you wanted to spend it with, the week that followed the admissions was considerably good.

Yes, the brunette doctor continued to feel uneasy about the situation he put you in. Uneasy about the choice you eventually would have to make. However, as days went by he noticed it didn't seem to bother you. No. You were oddly chirpy and cheerful. Spencer couldn't help but feel like it was because of him.

Like your choice was already made, and that choice was him.

“Do you have plans tonight?” You asked in a hushed tone, slyly glancing around the bullpen to ensure no-one else was paying attention to you and the doctor.

Spencer shook his head. “Not entirely, no.”

Your lips curled into a smile at his response. “So you wouldn’t mind if I came over?” You asked, gently tapping your fingers in a walking motion against his desk. They stopped next to his hand - you could feel it was there, yet you didn't move your fingers further in fear of someone seeing. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Spencer mouth twitched into a pleasant smirk. He should have been nervous, what if you were going to break the news you were choosing Ethan? He should have been anxious, the thought of losing you all over again, he couldn't imagine how awful that would feel. Yet he didn't feel any of those things.

Judging by your relaxed body language. Your hand just aching to touch his. The way your eyes glistened looking at him. Your elated tone as you spoke. It didn't take a genius, a profiler, or even someone that knew you as well as him, to say these were all indicators whatever you wanted to talk to him about was happy.

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “What time do you think-”

“I’ll let you know, okay? I know you like to switch off for the weekend so keep your phone on you for me.” You traced a finger against his knuckle and with one last smile, ambled elegantly towards the exit.

Yes - Spencer deducted - whatever you wanted to tell him was going to be good news.

A knock on the door grabbed Spencer’s attention. He quickly examined the place one last time, to ensure everything was clean and, well, perfect for you.

Satisfied, he eagerly crossed his living room and without thinking twice, expecting to see you on the other side of the door, he opened it.

“Hey Spencer.”

But it wasn’t you. It was the last person he ever expected to see.

“E-Ethan, what ehm, what are you doing here?” Spencer asked.

Ethan smirked at the question, slowly sliding his hands into the pockets of his coat. “We need to talk, don’t you think?”

Spencer swallowed, but before he got a chance to reply the surgeon continued. “Actually, I’ll talk and you can listen. Also don’t bother inviting me inside because I’ll keep this brief and to the point.”

Your fiancé cleared his throat. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my wife-to-be still has feelings for her ex boyfriend. Did you know she is actually on her way here to tell you she’s choosing you? Yeah... Now, she doesn't know that I know. Her plan is to inform me tomorrow, after my shift at the hospital, that the wedding is no longer happening and our relationship is over.” He paused, almost as if he was daring Spencer to interrupt him at any moment and defend your honour.

Which in hindsight is something Spencer should have done.

“So here’s how this is going to do, doctor.” He slurred. “When she comes here, you're going to turn her down. You've broken her heart once before, I’m pretty sure you know how to do it again.”

Spencer stepped forward and opened his mouth to protest, but the surgeon impolitely cut him off. “Look, you’re a smart guy. Some sort of genius, right? I think deep down you know Y/N is better off with me. I can provide for her in ways you can't even comprehend. I am going to give her a life you can only dream of Spencer.”

“I think you’re forgetting it’s not all about the money.” Spencer stated coldly. His eyes narrowing. Jaw clenching.

Ethan chuckled callously. “Of course not. But I think you need to consider how much disposable income can improve life. I have the ability to ensure we buy our dream home. I have the ability to invest in a second home for her father, and move him somewhere closer to us. With me, Y/N will be able to quit her job and no longer risk her life on a daily basis. She will be able to spend time with our future kids, in a beautiful home, completely care free.”

He let out a deep sigh. “Did she even tell you she’s been thinking about transferring out of the BAU? She doesn't want to be a profiler anymore. Fuck man, she doesn't even know if she wants to be a SSA anymore. The only reason she’s sticking around is you.”

The statement caught Spencer completely off guard. Ethan had to be bluffing, right? He would say anything to ensure you stayed with him, right?

“You’re lying.” Spencer grumbled through his teeth.

Ethan smirked in response. “I’m really not though. Ask anyone. Her dad, it was actually he who suggested it in the first place. Or your friend Penelope, she seems to think it’s a good idea.”

Spencer’s world was crumbling down around him and he was helpless to stop it. Why didn't you tell him this was on your mind? Why did you keep this a secret? And how did he not see any inclination of this before?

“Like I said, you’re a smart guy Spencer.” Ethan stated. “I think you know what the right thing to do is.” And with that, he walked away leaving the brunette agent alone with his thoughts.

Slowly, Spencer closed the door. He turned on his heel and leaned against it while letting out a long winded breath, one he didn't even realise he was holding.

He never wanted to stand in the way of your plans. He didn't want to be the one holding you back from anything. Was his ever growing love for you clouding his judgement?

He closed his eyes, resting against the door behind him. The guilt he was now feeling riddled him from head to toe. And mixed with the guilt was a faint feeling of anger. Anger directed at the man that dared to get between your relationship with the brunette agent.

Ethan, a name of Hebrew origin that means firm, enduring and strong. A good name for good people.

Spencer knew off many Ethan’s in his lifetime. His college friend, an old colleagues son - all people that definitely lived up to the meaning. Yet your fiancé was anything but.

This Ethan was arrogant, rude, possessive. In Spencer’s mind, this Ethan was quite literally the physical embodiment of the curse word dick.

He never truly understood what you saw in the guy. He always thought you could do a lot better. Even if it wasn’t Spencer himself, there are men out there a lot kinder than Ethan.

And yet, despite all of the resentment he felt towards the man, Spencer couldn't help but feel like there was some truth to what he had said. The hazel-eyed man started doubting himself. Doubting whether he really had your best intention at heart, or whether his own selfishness was preventing him from making sure you’re living your best life.

This was supposed to be a happy day. A happy evening. 

It certainly started out that way. You were on your way here to tell him you were choosing him. You were choosing to spend the rest of your life with him.

Spencer felt sick to his stomach. Dizzy. He was sure if he opened his eyes even just for a second he would collapse. He also knew the only rational thing, the right thing to do will only make him feel worse.

The brunette agent wasn’t entirely sure how long he stood frozen like that. His breathing shallow. Heart sinking, heavy.

A knock on the door behind his back caused him to slowly open his eyes, yet he didn't move an inch. He simply couldn't. He couldn't bare to face you. He couldn't bare to look you in the eye and break your heart for a second time.

Instead, he chose the childish way out. He hoped if he was still enough, quiet enough, you would think he wasn’t home and leave. It is a conversation that cannot be avoided, but it would be a conversation for another day.

You knocked again, using a little more strength this time.

Spencer held his breath. Tears began to form in his eyes. Salty droplets that if he let escape, he knew they wouldn't stop falling.

He heard faint shuffling outside and for a split second he thought you gave up and walked away. For a split second he thought he bought himself more time. More time with the fantasy that the two of you would get your happy ending together. Foolish, he thought.

It was in that moment the mobile device in the back pocket off his pants started to buzz, vibrating against the door. The phone you asked he kept close to him earlier that day. The sound of the ringtone followed soon after completely giving away Spencer’s current location.

“Spencer?” The sweet sound of your voice coming through the wooden barrier between you caused the tears he was fighting to slowly trail down his face. The device stopped ringing. “I know you’re in there. Can you let me in?” You said, so blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

Spencer turned around and pressed his forehead against the painted wood. His hand travelled to the door knob, yet he still didn't move any further. “I-I... I c-can’t...” He managed to blurt out.

“What do you mean you can’t?” He heard you ask, the hint of confusion in your tone aching his heart further. “Spencer, what’s going on?”

The brunette doctor licked his lips and swallowed, tasting the saltiness of his own tears. “Y-you should go Y/N.” He uttered.

“Go? Spencer, you’re not making any sense.” You responded, the door knob rattling under Spencer’s fingers. “Please let me in. I’m not going to say what I want to say through a door.”

“Don’t s-say it at all. You should be with E-Ethan. Your future will be brighter with him.”

Silence. Unbearably heartbreaking silence.

At first you thought your ears were playing tricks on you. There was no way he just said that, right? A week after he told you he loved you. A week after he said he'll always wait for you. A week after he proposed. There was no way he changed his mind.

And then you thought of his time in prison. More specifically the day you went to visit him for the last time. The day you wanted to propose. The day he broke your heart.

He used those exact words - “Your future will be brighter without me.”

Slowly, you placed the palm of your hand on the door between you and took in a deep breath. Your eyes glossed over as the confusion rushing through you evolved into sadness.

Spencer could pinpoint the exact moment the air changed around him. It was suddenly tense. Broken. He felt like a coward. Even if he had your best interest at heart, he should still be able to face you and explain his side in person. Tell you that Ethan came by. Tell you everything that was said. Ask about your plans to leave the BAU. Ask whether he really was the only reason you haven't resigned yet. But he couldn't formulate the words. He simply gave up. A coward.

“Spencer, I-I don’t understand...” You sobbed. “I-I thought-t you loved me.”

“I love you more than anything in this world Y/N.” He quickly replied, the palm of his hand now pressed against the wood. Unbeknown to him, against the exact same spot on the opposite side of the barrier was your hand. So close yet so far.

“Then let me in. Please. I-I came here to say I choose you. I want to be with you Spencer. Please... Please let me in.” You cried through the door. Spencer could hear the pain behind your words, the sorrow. It really took all the strength he had not to let you in.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

Your hands trembling uncontrollably against the barrier between you and the man of your dreams.

His sudden change of heart left you completely speechless. His words like tiny daggers stabbing directly into your bleeding heart. How did this happen? What changed between now and this morning? What changed between now and last week? You had so many questions. Ones that you feared would remain unanswered.

Additionally, your gut was telling you there was more to this than he was letting on. That it wasn’t as simple as ‘Ethan is the better man for you’ because you knew Spencer didn't believe that. But you couldn't find the strength within to argue with him.

“If-f that’s w-what you want Spencer, I’ll leave-e.”

It was the last thing he heard before the sound of your footsteps ushering away.  

After a minute, the hazel-eyed agent moved to the couch and sunk into the material. Every fibre of his being was currently aching. He hoped he did the right thing, although the voice at the back of his mind said no. What else was he supposed to do? He knew Ethan wouldn't just give up. Was Spencer prepared to fight for you? If tonight was any inclination the answer would also be no.

Spencer’s gaze locked onto the small box in the middle of his coffee table.

It was a considerably good week, and it was supposed to end a hell of a lot better than this.

Every part of me says, "Go ahead" But I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again

-

A/N: i hope you liked this chapter! and i am so so sorry for giving y’all false hope with the last one! i promise these there are happy times ahead for these two just not quite yet... as always i’d love to hear your feedback! if you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know. thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne​, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0

spencer reid taglist: @no-honey-no, @calm-and-doctor, @idroppedmygourd, @averyhotchner, @wowitsel, @elldell1204, @hey-there-angels, @reidabookforonce, @ellesgreenaway​

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds angst #champagne problems series

[cora-vizsla]

The Kings Pet (4)

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: Angst. Like this entire thing is angst. Feelings of loss. Kidnapping. Drugged (not in great detail). Unwanted sexual advances (nothing happens and no one is hurt or touched but it is presumed it would have happened if reader wasn’t a badass).  Boba Fett doing what Boba Fett does. Cannon typical violence (reader can hear it happening but doesn’t see anything). Nothing super gory. Sex. Unprotected sex (established relationship). Fluff.

A/N: There is talk of a new character wanting sexual contact with reader that she does not reciprocate. Nothing happens and it is stopped long before it could happen. Boba Fett loses his absolute shit and beats the hell out of someone but reader does not see it. I tried to write this in a way that would get the point across without being too graphic. There is a LOT of angst in this. Please be prepared for that! If you aren’t sure if this would trigger you or upset you, please feel free to send me a message or ask and we can discuss it. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable! As always, if there are any warnings I miss please let me know!

Things felt different after your time with Boba and Fennec. You couldn’t really attribute it to the actual sex aspect of things because Fennec had always been physically close to you. She still pulled you onto her lap or sat on the arm of the throne and played with your hair. It was hard to admit but no one but you were really acting any differently.

Nothing physically had changed but you felt different. You woke up in the mornings and went through your normal routine. You ended up on the floor on your pillow, but you found yourself afraid to lean on your king’s leg. You could feel him looking at you, but he never asked what was wrong. You figured it didn’t matter as long as you were doing what he wanted of you. You still slept in his bed and whenever he wanted something you were more than enthusiastic. It was the only time you felt like you were actually worth much to him.

The days passed as they normally did. Boba stayed home more healing from his injuries. Din came to visit and update the king on what was happening with Bo Katan. The more you heard about her the more you disliked her. She seemed stuck up and you hoped you didn’t need to meet her. Not that you would ever say that since it wasn’t up to you who walked into Boba’s palace.

Din looked at you often, but you didn’t move. He asked you questions every now and then, truthfully trying to be friendly, but you never had much to say. You’d answer his questions in a nice way, but you could feel there wasn’t much behind your words. He seemed to notice when he would sigh and give up trying to talk to you.

What made it worse was when Boba and Din started speaking only in Mando’a around each other. You were never sent away but they stopped using basic. You would have been able to understand even huttese but their native language was far too complicated and foreign to you. You did glance up when you heard Boba say mesh’la and occasionally Din would motion towards you. The fear and idea of Boba not wanting you anymore kept you silent and unwilling to even ask what was going on.

The moment you realized he was done with you was when he commanded you to leave the throne room. New guests had come in and he immediately told you to leave. It startled you but you obeyed immediately. Fennec didn’t even watch you walk by and it shattered your heart. You were so busy being hurt that you had missed the way he had tensed when they walked in. You had missed the threatening demeanor and the way that the guest leered at you. All you could focus on was the fact he didn’t want you.

Later that day Boba stormed into the room and said he was leaving. You stayed curled up on the bed and gave him a weak nod. He looked at you but made no move to touch you.

“When I return, we need to talk.”

“Yes sir.”

Tears slipped from your eyes when he left the room, wearing all of his gear. Fennec came in and checked on you a few times, but you didn’t speak to her other than to let her know that you were fine and didn’t need anything. You couldn’t bear to look at her knowing that soon you would be gone. You silently cried until there was no way you could anymore.

It was late, definitely dark already, before you climbed out of bed. You walked into the empty throne room and ran your fingers across the seat the man you cared so much about sat on every day. You would miss more than anything just being close to him. You sat on your pillow and leaned back against the cool material behind you.

“I’m going to miss you, Boba.”

You whispered the words but jumped when you heard a laugh come from the stairs entering the room. You stood up as three men walked in, hands on their blasters. You tried to pinpoint who they were, but you couldn’t figure out where you had seen them before.

“Did the king leave his little pet all alone?”

“It sure looks like it, doesn’t it?”

“Poor little pet. Do you need company?”

You stiffened and their voiced flooded back into your memory. They were the men that came in when Boba sent you away. You glanced over at the side to see if Fennec was near but whipped your head back towards the men when you heard a blaster click. It was pointed directly at you.

“Don’t do something stupid, doll face. If you do anything other than breathe and what we tell you to do, Boba Fett will find you dead on the floor when he comes back.”

They had been slowly moving towards you, hunting their prey. When they got close enough, the one to your left grabbed you and pulled you off the raised floor you were on. You yelped when you crashed to the floor and he laughed at you.

“I can see why he keeps you. You are a beautiful little thing on your knees.”

“Shut up. We need her in one piece. Cuff her and let’s go.”

“Alright, boss. Whatever you say.”

He hooked your arm and twisted it behind you, hooking binders to your wrist. He did the same with the other arm right after. You stumbled when he pulled you forward, trying to resist as much as you could.

“We don’t have time for this.”

You felt a sharp prick on your neck, and everything went dark.

---

Your eyes started to flutter open and you groaned. Your hands were still bound behind your back, but you were laying on your stomach. The mattress below you was dirty and you grimaced that your face was touching it. With a grunt you twisted so you could sit up.

“Finally awake. Thought maybe we had killed you.”

You looked over to your captors sitting at a small round table playing cards. The entire room was dark and cold. It still felt dry, so you wondered if you were underground somewhere on Tattooine.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Day or so. My associate gave you far too much sedative.”

You shivered at the memory of the needle hitting you. You shift your body so you could lean back against the wall and keep most of the pressure off your arms. You looked down at the chain hooked to the bracers that was firmly anchored into the wall. There wasn’t much chance of getting away.

“Why did you take me?”

The one who kept answering you scoffed and looked at you incredulously.

“You’re Boba Fetts property. When he comes looking for you, he will have to pay. Do you know how many credits we can get for the Kings pet?”

You felt your chest deflate and he noticed.

“What?”

“He was about to kick me out. He didn’t want me anymore. No one will come looking for me.”

You looked down at your knees and felt tears sting your eyes again.

“Well, we will give it a few days. If he doesn’t; you’ll still fetch a pretty penny to the right buyer.”

You curled into yourself knowing that no one would be rescuing you. You had accepted that you needed to leave but you weren’t planning on being sold off. You wished you had opened up to Din more. Maybe he would have looked for you if you hadn’t been such a pain in the ass. Fennec too. Boba didn’t want you but maybe the other two would have a shred of decency for you.

You cried while you sat and listened to them talk. They switched from basic to Huttese even though you knew it. You didn’t let them know that you knew they were going to sell you to a Hutt if Boba didn’t find you. The Hutt’s hated Boba with a passion for not stopping Jaba from getting killed so they would be thrilled to own his pet. They just weren’t going to tell them that he had already grown bored of you.

Once night fell, they decided to take turns staying up to make sure you didn’t try to break your chain. The first one was the one who had drugged you. You didn’t like how he leered at you or some of the comments he made about your legs. Though you fought it, you finally started to fall asleep. You startled awake when you heard him walking closer to you.

“Calm down, doll face. We don’t want the other guys coming out, right?”

You nodded and bit back your anger. You were fine with Boba owning you because you loved him. It was an agreement, not something being forced on you. You stomach churned thinking about anyone else touching you. As soon as he got close enough, you smashed your forehead into his nose. It hurt like hell but the blood pouring from his now broken nose was satisfying.

“You bitch!”

He backhanded you hard enough for you to taste copper in your mouth. You spit the blood in his face, and he reared back just in time for the other guys to run out.

“What the fuck are you doing!? Are you kidding me!?”

They yanked him away. One dragged him back towards where the rooms were, and their leader grabbed your chin to check your face out.

“Is that your plan now? Let your guys rape me until someone buys me?”

“Fuck. He wasn’t.. what he did wasn’t acceptable. For that I am sorry. I’ll deal with him.”

“You’re all lucky Boba isn’t looking for me. He doesn’t like people touching what is his.”

His face paled slightly as he cleaned up your face. You had a cut on your face, and it felt like you were going to have a black eye from the headbutt. Once he was done cleaning you up, he walked away and shouting ensued from the back rooms. You finally fell asleep hoping that no one would touch you.

---

You woke up to loud noises and blaster fire. You curled into yourself hoping no stray shot would hit you. There was a loud thud and yelling, telling no one to move. You flinched when heavy footsteps got closer and a hand grabbed your arm.

“Hey, hey. It’s me.”

You looked up to see Din kneeling in front of you. He unhooked the bracers quickly letting you rub at your wrists. He looked at them then up at your face. You winced when he gently grabbed your chin and moved your face to look at the damage.

“Is she okay?”

You winced again at the gravelly voice you knew to be Boba’s. Din looked back at him and shook his head.

“She’s hurt.”

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

You saw that the two left were the ones working for the one presumably dead on the floor. The one you had the least interaction with tried to explain but Boba shot him before he could say much. He stalked forward and grabbed the one who had tried to hurt you and slammed him against the wall.

“Answer me. Now.”

“Nothing. Tried to use her for what she’s good for but the stupid bitch headbutt me.”

“What she’s good for?”

Boba’s head tilted just slightly to the right. The man in front of him had no idea just how dangerous that was.

“Figured since she was known for you being your little slut you had her trained right. Guess not.”

Boba growled and grabbed him by the throat.

“She is mine.”

You winced when the crack of bone rang out in the small room as his face was met by a fist. He continued punching him over and over. A sob slipped through your lips and Din pulled you to him.

“Don’t look. Hold onto me and I’ll get you out of here.”

The silver Mandalorian wrapped his arms around you and carried you out of the room as Boba continued to beat on the man who presumably would have raped you if given the chance. You desperately wanted to get the sickening sound out of your head, so you focused in on Dins voice.

“Did he?”

“No. I fought back, and the other guys pulled him away. It wasn’t.. it wasn’t their plan.”

Once you were outside Din set you down and knelt in front of you, inspecting your injuries more thoroughly. You hissed when his fingers touched too close to your wounds and he huffed a sigh.

“Fennec should have medical supplies to take care of you. Once Boba-“

You both looked over at the sound of his spurs got closer. His shoulders were taught, and you shivered at the blood he had spattered on the front of his armor. He looked down at you, so you averted your eyes quickly. He balled his fists and started walking.

“Time to go back.”

Din helped you to your feet and you clung to his arm. Your legs weren’t hurt but they were cramping from sitting for too long. You pushed through and all three of you climbed into Slave I. No one spoke a word on the short flight back to the palace. When the ramp descended Fennec was waiting. She huffed out a sigh of relief when she saw you, but Boba quickly got in her face.

“This is your fault. You had one job and it was to protect her until I got back.”

“I-it was my fault. Boba, it wasn’t anything that Fennec did. I walked-“

He whipped around and pointed at you effectively shutting you up.

“We will speak later. This has nothing to do with you.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and walked around them, heading into the palace. You heard Din’s feet behind you, but you stopped. You had no idea where you were going. Boba had been wanting to tell you to leave, that much you knew. You knew it deep in your soul. You didn’t feel right going to his room and Fennec was going to be furious at you.

“Why don’t you sit down, and I can take care of that cut?”

“I’m fine but thank you.”

Din said your name, your real name, and you turned to look at him.

“You need your wounds looked at. Let me do it. Please.”

You finally nodded and he led you over to the raised floor by the throne. He stood to your side by your knees and gently pat at the cut on your face with the medical supplies that had been sitting there. You started crying so he stopped quickly.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No. Sorry. No. It wasn’t anything that you did. I.. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated but started cleaning the cut again.

“The bruise is going to be nasty. You headbutt him?”

“I didn’t want him to touch me and my hands were tied.”

“I’m not chastising you. It’s impressive. My headbutts usually leave me less damaged. Maybe I need to get you a helmet.”

You gave him a teary laugh and smiled.

“I don’t have any bacta but I think you’ll be okay. Shouldn’t scar as long as you take care of it.”

“Thanks, Din.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything I can do?”

You looked up at him and took a deep breath.

“If.. When Boba.. will you take me with you? I don’t care if you drop me off on a random planet I just.. I can’t be out on my own on Tattooine again.”

“You don’t want to be here?”

“Of course I want to be here but.. He’s going to tell me to leave. Especially now. He wasted his time looking for me when he had so many other things to do. He’s saved my life twice now.”

“If he didn’t want to look for you, he wouldn’t have. What is this about?”

“He thinks.. he thinks I’m only here to use him. You heard what he said. He thinks I’m only here because I benefit from it. He keeps Fennec here to make sure I don’t run. He doesn’t trust me and he.. he doesn’t want me the way I want him.”

You hiccupped a sob and covered your mouth, trying to calm yourself down.

“When he was hurt you mean? I told you not to take that personally. He was injured and scared.”

“No. He keeps Fennec here all the time. Even before that. It’s so I don’t run.”

“Is this why you’ve been so quiet lately? Boba thought he did something wrong.”

“What? No! No I just.. everything he did I could tell that he was getting tired of me.”

Din stood up tall and looked down at you. Boba was making his way down the stairs and walked directly to you. You clenched your jaw at the blood all over him and shivered. He grabbed your chin more gently than you expected and looked at the bruises and cut.

“I cleaned them up for her. I don’t have any bacta.”

“I just sent Fennec for some”

He picked up your hands and looked at your wrists, swearing under his breath.

“You need rest. Go lay down.”

“I-I’m okay.”

“I’m not asking.”

He looked down at you but with his helmet on you weren’t sure just how angry he was. You slipped off the ledge you were sitting on and went back to the bedroom. You heard the two of them starting to speak in Mando’a and you wished desperately you knew what they were saying. Once you were in the bedroom you sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. The entire room smelled like him and it hurt knowing you soon wouldn’t be there anymore. Your mind was racing and the last thing you wanted to do was sleep.

“I told you to lay down.”

You jumped at the voice and saw Boba with his helmet off leaning against the doorway.

“S-sorry.”

He pulled his armor off and set it down before walking to you. He knelt down and moved so he was between your knees. He put his hands on your thighs and you internally cursed knowing he would feel how much you were shaking.

“Tell me what happened.”

“I.. I went into the throne room for.. they came in and held a blaster to me. It was late and Fennec was already asleep. It wasn’t her fault please don’t be mad-“

“What happened next?”

“They put the binders on me behind my back and when I tried to stop them from taking me, they gave me drugs. I don’t know what they were, but I was out for almost a day they said. They laughed and said they thought they killed me.”

Boba growled and tensed his hands slightly.

“What next?”

“They told me that you would pay for me. They were just waiting for you to get ahold of them and pay whatever fee they named. But I told them that you wouldn’t be coming to find me so they started finding a Hutt that would buy me instead.”

“Why wouldn’t I have come to get you?”

“I.. I know that you’ve grown tired of me and I’m becoming more of a-“

“Who said that?”

He snapped at you and you shrunk away from him. He grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Who told you that?”

“N-no one. I could see it. When you were hurt you.. you said that you knew I was only here because of what you could give me. Fennec is here to keep me from running. I owe you and I can never give you enough to repay that. Now you’ve saved me again and I have nothing to give you. You don’t even trust me not to bolt out the door.”

He fell silent and tears started falling again. He said your name gently and motioned for you to look at him fully.

“I never should have said that to you. Mesh’la, I don’t think you’re going to run. It’s what I fear. I fear that one morning I will wake up and you will be gone. I will not hold you against your will and I fear that you stay because you do feel like you owe me. You owe me nothing.”

“W-what?”

“Oh, you silly girl. I care for you very deeply. Your insecurities are not one sided. I often find myself wondering why such a beautiful woman would want to stay with a scarred old man like me.”

“Boba, you mean everything to me. I just want to make you happy and be by your side. You started talking to Din in Mando’a and then sent me away so I thought..”

“We were speaking of you. We were trying to figure out how to talk to you. Din tried but you were so shut off he didn’t think he was making progress.”

“You’ve never sent me away before.”

“I knew they were trouble. And they were. They took you from me.”

He cupped both sides of your face gently and gave you a gentle smile.

“If it is your wish to leave, I will not stop you though I would be devastated to see you go. However, no one will ever take you from me. I will scour the galaxy to find you and keep you safe. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I gave those men mercy for killing them quickly. Well, two of them at least.”

“The one you beat was the one that want to...”

“I know, mesh’la. I am so sorry you had to go through that. He will never touch you again. No one will unless it’s what you want.”

You nodded at him, still nervous to look him directly in the eyes. He pulled you to his chest and held you tight. You tentatively wrapped your arms around him in return.

“Did I scare you?”

“What?”

“When I hurt them. Did I scare you?”

“A little. Just the sound.”

“The sound?”

“I could hear his bones snapping.”

“Sounded satisfying to me.”

You looked up at him with a skeptical look, so he laughed at you.

“I am not a soft man, mesh’la. I will always do what it takes even if that means killing. They were not the first and they will not be the last.”

“I know. I just didn’t expect you to kill for me.”

“There are very few I wouldn’t kill for you.”

“Are you mad at Fennec?”

He sighed and moved to sit down next to you. Once he did, he pulled you, so you were straddling him.

“Yes. She should have stayed in here with you. We all could tell something was wrong. She thought you were upset with her.”

“Why would I be upset with her? She’s been nothing but kind to me.”

“You started acting different after you let her touch you.”

You felt your face flush and shook your head.

“No. I wasn’t ever upset about that. It was because I thought you wanted me to leave.”

“Never.”

“Then what did you want to talk about?”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to be here. I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t stand seeing you so unhappy.”

“Oh.”

“My sweet girl, I am so sorry that my actions made you believe I didn’t want you to be here. When I have to go you are what keeps me coming back. You are one of the very few things that have brought me happiness in my very dark life.”

He kissed you more gently than he ever had before. You sighed and finally let yourself melt into his arms. You knew that you had been keeping yourself away from him for the most part but even before that, he never showed that much passion or care when he would touch you. It was more than you ever could have hoped for.

“You may be my pet, my princess, but you hold so much power over me. I can’t promise you an easy life, but I will always make it as enjoyable for you as I can.”

You nodded; any words you possibly could have responded with caught in your throat.

“Din told me you asked to go with him. Is that what you want?”

“No. I just couldn’t stay on this maker forsaken planet without you.”

“You never have to.”

He stood, turning so he could gently lay you down on the bed. He pulled everything but his pants off and climbed in next to you. He gently ran his fingers across your bruised face and swore in a mix of Basic and Mado’a.

“I must look like a mess.”

“You are still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You felt your face flush, so you turned away from him. He gently turned you back to face him with a sound of annoyance.

“Don’t hide from me, mesh’la.”

He kissed you again, gently, careful not to hurt you. His hands ran down your body and started to slowly and gently pull your clothes off. Part of you was terrified of him seeing more bruises but you shuddered when you remembered how dirty the bed was that you were on. Getting the clothes off would be a blessing. Once all of your clothes were discarded, he found each bruise and mark on your body and kissed them gently. You felt like your chest was going to cave in at how adored and cherished you felt. It wasn’t something you thought you would ever get from Boba.

“I am so sorry, cyar’ika. I will never let anyone touch you again. I’ll destroy planets just to keep you safe.”

“Come here.”

He looked up at you with dark eyes, blown wide with lust and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint. You were suddenly afraid of him chastising you for trying to break out of your dynamic. You had never tried to be anything but obedient. Instead, he moved up, gently pulling your legs so they were wrapped around his waist. He held himself above you and kissed you gently.

“Tell me what you want, cyar’ika. Tell me what you need.”

“You. I just need you.”

He slipped his pants off and discarded them on the floor quickly, moving back to you. He kissed you deeply again, stealing your breath. When he gently pressed himself into you, a soft moan slipped from your lips. You had been intimate with him when you thought he wanted you to leave, but you’d been absent; afraid to truly let yourself feel anything for him.

“Such beautiful sounds you make.”

You expected him to turn brutal and rough since he was fully inside of you. It never happened. The only way you could describe what he was doing was making love to you. His hands held you gently and his kisses were even more delicate. He treated you like you were a prize that would easily break if he moved the wrong way. He pulled his face away just far enough to look into your eyes.

“Gar cuyir ner oyay.  Ner darasuum kar'taylir darasuum.” (You are my life. My eternal love.)

You had no idea what he said to you, but you felt the sincerity. You felt the adoration coming from him. You felt stupid for thinking that the man completely consuming you would ever want you to leave. The longer he made love to you the more you felt it. He had never uttered the words to you, at least not that you understood, but his actions showed you.

He loved you.

It wasn’t very long before you were coming undone. It wasn’t the usual brutal climax that would hit you so hard you saw stars. This slowly built until there was nothing in existence around you. It was only you and Boba. Only you and your King. You were surprised when he finished with you, staying close. He peppered your face with kisses as you came down.

“Welcome back, princess.”

You felt tears starting to betray your overwhelmed state as he looked down at you. He tried to ask you what was wrong, but you pulled him close to you and finally let yourself truly cry in front of him. He held you close as he rolled to the side, not wanting to hurt you.

“You truly thought I didn’t want you anymore.”

You nodded and tried to wipe your eyes, but he beat you to it. He cradled your face and wiped every tear that fell from your eyes.

“I wish you would have just spoken to me. I could have quelled all of those fears.”

“I’m sorry, Boba.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.”

“I have a question, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

“What.. what did you say to me? When we were.. what did that mean?”

“I told you that you are my life and my eternal love.”

Your breath hitched again, and he chuckled lightly, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You need to learn Mando’a if you’re going to keep hanging around Mandalorians.”

You laughed lightly and then put your hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh even harder.

“What?”

“I just.. at least Mando’a is prettier than Huttese.”

“You speak that garbage language?”

You nodded again, laughing behind your hand.

“I would much prefer to learn your language. I never know what you’re saying to me.”

“I’m usually calling you beautiful. Mesh’la. Sounds better than fucking Huttese.”

You laughed out fully again, and he tucked you against his chest, pulling the sheet across your bodies. You reveled in his touch and comfort, finally letting yourself love him the way you wanted to. He may have been one of the most dangerous men in the universe, but to you he would always be salvation.

---

Bonus:

“Stay still.”

“Ouch!”

“I told you to stay still.”

“This is stupid.”

“So is not using bacta when it can heal up those ugly bruises faster.”

“Fennec stop being so damn rough!”

“Then sit still.”

You huffed out a sigh and tried to not move. You hissed when she pressed her fingers against your bruised face, and it earned you a glare.

“No more headbutting people. Got it?”

“Din said he’s going to get me a helmet so I can.”

She finally laughed and kissed the top of your head once she was done.

“There. Now leave it alone and your face will heal much faster.”

“Thank you.”

She sat down and pulled you into her lap.

“You scared me when you were gone, pet.”

“You thought I ran.”

“No. I just knew something was bothering you, but I saw the footprints. I saw they dragged you out. So, I called Boba even though I knew I was going to get my ass handed to me.”

“Well, thank you for calling him. I was almost sold to a Hutt.”

She grimaced and then smirked at you, her usual mirth returning.

“What would you have done then? I doubt they would have felt you headbutt them. You’d just be all slimy.”

“Ew, Fennec. I don’t even want to think about that.”

She laughed and wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. You rest your head on her shoulder and sighed.

“I’m glad you’re safe, pet.”

“Me too. I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”

Tag List: Kings Pet: @promiscuoussatan 

Permanent: @mapplestrudel​ @cannedsoupsucks​

If you would like to be added/removed please let me know!

#boba fett #boba fett x female reader #boba fett x you #boba fett x reader #fennec shand #smut #fanfic

[nothing-but-dreamy]

BROKEN

Pairing: NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 3.401

Warnings: angst; fluff; mention of sex; raw emotions; kinda dark (?)

A/N: This is the sequel to ‘Reckless’. But ‘Reckless’ got written with a female reader. Because I’m trying to change my writing style to suit more readers, I changed the female reader of ‘Broken’ to a neutral reader. So, basically, ‘Reckless’ was about a Glaive who worked kinda thoughtless during missions. They jumped into every dangerous situation they could find. Nyx wasn’t too fond of their behavior and so, he seeked a conversation with them. Because both held unspoken feelings for each other, the conversation turned into something intimate and heated.

‘Broken’ is the darker sequel to give a bit more background to the reader. But I wrote it so that you can read it as a standalone.

Three weeks had passed since you and Nyx had your little heated 'discussion' in the Glaives' headquarters. As promised, the same day, Nyx had kept his word and visited you to show his arguments again and again why you should be less reckless. This night was the beginning of something great...and undeniably intense. None of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Almost nowhere. Even if you tried to keep it secret in front of the others, you found ways to have fun with Nyx wherever you wanted.

Nyx was drawn to your wildness as if danger was your second nature. Quickly, you noticed Nyx’ animalistic side while you were drawn to the way Nyx saw you. He gave you the feeling to be wanted. He gave you closeness where you usually just got rejected.

But like always when it became good, your past was haunting you no matter how far you would run. You had run to the farthest point you could find on the map - to Insomnia - and yet, Ryan had found you.

You hoped to get distracted as you joined the Glaives. On the battlefield, the war sounds and the screams of your dying enemies would be louder than the other voices in your head. Ryan would get silenced.

Nyx was right, you were reckless. Thoughtlessly, you ran into every new fight no matter what size the enemy had because the language of your blades were the only one you could speak fluently. Violence was what you knew the best because then, Ryan disappeared.

When you were with Nyx, the voices also became silent. When you were enjoying the man's satisfying presence, everything in your head died down to the point that Nyx was everything you could think of.

But as something else started to grow inside of you, a little, small thing called 'love', Ryan was back with full force to remind you what you were and what you had done.

"You bring death to everyone around you! You bring bad luck to everyone you love! You're the reason why everyone dies! I wish you would be dead instead of them! I hope you will never be happy!"

"No, I'm not like that! No! No! No! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!", you cried out, pressing your fists against your head to fight against the pain behind your temples.

*

For the twentieth time, Nyx checked the time on his watch and frowned. Slowly, he paced up and down at the meeting spot, becoming more and more impatient the longer he had to wait. It was unusual. For three weeks, he was dating you and every single moment had been amazing. With you, everything was so intense, passionate and lust-filled.

Then, Nyx had tried his luck and had asked you out to have a real date with dinner, maybe a movie. He wanted to show you that he saw more in you than just a sexual partner. In his eyes, you were more than just a fling. You could be more. More like a couple. You had been cautious with your answer and now, as you didn't show up, Nyx thought that he might have been too eager. That it was maybe too early for you. Maybe you felt caged by him…

Five minutes later, Nyx decided he had waited long enough and so, he walked to your place. He wanted to know what your problem was. Why were you acting this frustrating because Nyx really thought you two had worked past it. You had grown a bond. So, why were you trying to destroy it again? Nyx already searched for the problem by himself.

Nyx walked his way up the stairs to your apartment, already kinda angry but stopped as he heard something: "Go away! Why can't you just leave me alone! I'm not what you say! It's not my fault!"

Nyx’ hand froze in front of the door as he was just about to knock. He heard the angry, frantically and muffled cries behind the door as if you were screaming at someone. Without knocking, Nyx opened the door to help you but as he stepped in, the picture in front of him let his blood run cold. There was no one else in the small room except you.

Your place was more spare than Nyx' own if that was even possible. You had a bed and an old, worn wing chair. In one corner hung a used punching bag which was still swinging, obviously you had trained until the moment you had broken down in front of it.

Nyx' eyes were glued at your frame. You were just dressed in shorts and a trainingstop. Your hands were bandaged for the punching bag. You were covered in sweat while you had been slumped down on your knees, holding your head violently between your fists which were pressing against your temples. Your eyes were squeezed shut and so, you hadn't noticed Nyx yet.

Softly, Nyx closed the door. On his way over to you, his eyes fell on a bunch of pictures. He had seen them before. They were like his own: family memories with smiling faces and proud parents and a brother. They were old and the color faded on the edges but he never asked you about them because he wanted to give you the time to do it on your own.

Nyx knelt next to you, not daring to touch you because in fear to scare you. He was even scared on his own to see you, this usual tough person in such a state. You never had been this vulnerable in front of him, or in front of someone else or … at all. Nyx leant forward, searching your closed eyes, "YN? Hey, it's me-"

By the sound of his voice, your head snapped up to meet his glance. Nyx saw your bloody eyes, your lashes were spikey and your face was frozen in an expression of pure agony. Like a blank nerv, pain, hate and loathing were displayed on your features that Nyx became speechless.

"Leave me alone, Nyx!", you hissed.

He had seen you angry before but nothing was compared to what he saw now in your eyes, "No.", Nyx said calmingly, closing up on you slowly, "I won't leave you alone like this.", he said softly. Just to see you in such a state broke his heart.

"I said you shall go!", you cried out angrily, punching against his chest to gain more distance between yourself and his caring, blue eyes that made you angry. As he didn't move, you snatched out one of your blades from a hidden spot to threaten him.

Nyx moved quickly, grabbing the blade from your shaking hand and threw it aside before you broke down in his arms, crying violently against his chest.

Nyx sat down on the ground, leaning against your bed and letting you cry. He tickled your neck and stroked over your hair and back to calm you. Nyx had no idea what had happened and he didn't dare to ask. Whatever had triggered this, it had to be something extreme you barely showed someone, hiding everything like this somewhere deep down inside of you. Caging it to prevent yourself from breaking.

Five minutes later, you slowly calmed down. You felt exhausted and empty, physically and emotionally. You noticed Nyx' arms enclosing you softly but also determined to keep you close, to give you comfort. You felt guilty that he had seen you like this but you couldn't change it now where the damage was done.

You just could explain it, "Everyone of our village died that day as the imperials came.", you said low, your voice barely a whisper and hoarse from all the crying. First you thought Nyx hadn't heard you but his grip became stronger around you and so, you continued with the urge to explain yourself while snuggling closer to his chest, "That day, I lost everything. Everyone I knew died. Except me and my brother. We got rescued by some hunters. But, you know, I ... I should have died there with all the others! I should be dead instead of being alive!", you said desperately, feeling how new tears were crawling to the surface.

"No, YN. No. That's not true. Why do you think that?", he asked concerned, trying to keep his own emotions out of his voice.

"Yes, it is true! My brother was right! I always brought bad luck to everyone around me!", you argued angrily. You clenched your fists, trying to hurt yourself with your nails digging into the palms of your hands to let yourself feel something else than grief.

Nyx was shocked. He couldn't believe what he heard, "Yo-your brother? He said all these things?", he asked in disbelief.

You looked up quickly but as you saw his eyes, you had to draw your glance away again, "Yes. My brother, Ryan. The hunters had helped us. Brought us somewhere safe but after we realized what had happened, Ryan said it was my fault that our parents died. He casted the blame on me and you know what? He's right. Our mother died because she saved me and as she got shot our dad tried the same. Both would be still alive if it weren't for me. So, before I will be the reason for more deaths, I ran away."

"H-how old were you as you ran away?", Nyx whispered. His blood was slowly fueled with anger against your brother who had said all these horrible things.

"I don’t know… I guess, I was thirteen, maybe twelve as I left the hunters. Since then, I've been alone. And I will always be alone. It's the only way for me.", you whispered, determined to stay by your habit.

Nyx leant back to look into your eyes, "You're not alone-", he tried.

"Yes, I am! And that's how it should be!", you hissed and felt bad for snapping at him.

"No. YN, look at me, please.", Nyx asked and as you raised your head, he smiled softly, stroking wet strands of your hair out of your face before he cupped it, "You're not alone. You have friends here. You... Y-you have me.", he said carefully with an insecure smile. For a split second, he saw that he got through to you. Your eyes became clear with hope before the self-loathing was back.

"No. I don't have you. You can't stay with me or otherwise you will be dead like everyone else.", you whispered before you looked away.

Nyx' heart broke all over again. The pain you felt was nothing new to him, it just seemed to be so much worse than what he felt usually. Carefully, he forced you to look at him again, "Listen, as a Glaive, nothing is certain. We both know that. Obviously, our lives aren't made for certainty. But I will stay by your side as long as I can. Trust me."

"I'm bad luck. Why would you want to have someone as broken as me, anyway?"

"Because you're the toughest person I have ever met. You have so many scars and you still keep fighting. You never back down. The fire you're carrying makes me speechless. Everyone around you comes first. I admire you so damn much for everything you stand for. Your handsomeness makes me speechless. You're so damn sexy and sensual that it is addictive.", Nyx said honestly.

"You just say that because the sex is great and you want more of that.", you whispered sadly.

"No! I mean, yeah... Of course, it is great! But I... YN, I tell you that because it's the truth. It's the truth that I see you like this. And ... it's also the truth that I'm falling for you.", Nyx whispered with a pounding heart.

"Y-yo-you do- what? No! You can't do that!", you called out, panic appearing in your eyes. You even tried to leave Nyx' side, to crawl away from him.

Nyx kept you in place and chuckled softly, "You can't forbid people to like you and you can't prohibit me to love you.", he said softly. It was a very long time since he had said these words. He wanted to comfort you, sure, but they weren’t just meaningless words out of niceness. Nyx really meant them.

And to his delight, he saw that you believed him. New tears were building in your eyes. You looked sadly at him but at the same time, your eyes filled themselves with fondness for him. A tear rolled down your cheek and Nyx caught it with his thumb, "Please, don't cry anymore.", Nyx whispered and pressed a soft kiss on your lips which tasted salty after all the tears shed.

As he leant back, you stopped him. You clawed your fingers into his shirt, pulling him back to you to kiss him softly. Just slowly, you increased the pressure of your lips, noticing that he waited for your next moves, for your pace before he adjusted to it. You felt vulnerable. You hated it that he had seen you like this. And yet, that he was there meant the world to you.

Someone was there for you. Someone who seemed to love you even when you were broken like this. You knew that Nyx also had lost so many things. He couldn't save his mother and sister and suddenly, you realized that your recklessness all the time had to be the worst for him. Nyx feared to lose you while he would be helpless to rescue you because you jumped right into danger.

Slowly, you leant backwards, landing on the cold floor with Nyx on top of you. You snaked your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck to keep him close.

Nyx felt that you needed physical contact and yet, it was something completely different than usually when he was with you. You had wanted him before but that was always demanding, aggressive and determined. Almost animalistic. And now, you were so soft, caring and slow with him.

Your kisses were delicious and filled with love that Nyx melted against you. You kissed him longingly that he forgot to breathe. Your hands roamed over his body in admiring moves, savoring him and his flaws because for you, they were non-existent.

You grabbed the rim of his plain shirt, pulling it slowly up and over his head just to touch his hot skin again in the next second. You stroked over his back. Admiring every single scar you could find softly with your fingertips. You traced along them, stroking along Nyx' spine to produce goosebumps on your way.

Nyx shuddered against your frame as he felt your caring touch moving upwards to his neck. You raked your slender fingers through his hair and combed it with them. Carefully, you played with the braids as if you never had touched them before. You stroked along the small beads and enjoyed the feeling of Nyx' extremely soft, feathery hair. Never before, you noticed their softness like in this moment.

Reluctantly, Nyx left your sweet lips but his lungs demanded oxygen. He created a small space to look into your eyes which were sparkling with admiration he had never seen before. You wanted to say something, Nyx saw it but instead, you just gnawed on your lower lip. Slowly, you stroked from his back, over his shoulders down his chest.

Under Nyx' intense glance, you moved your hands down Nyx' upper body. Along his scarred chest, down his abs and to his hips before you opened his pants. Slowly, you raised your eyes to meet his glance. Connected with his blue eyes, you started to roll your hips against him to increase the friction even more.

Nyx knew what you wanted. And there was no way he would deny your request to have him. Slowly, he crawled back, offered you his hand to stand up before he undressed his remaining clothes. You followed immediately and pushed Nyx down on your bed to crawl on top of him.

Fascinated, Nyx watched you taking your time with him. While you made your way up along his body, you kissed every inch you could find: his hips, his ribcage and his collarbones. Before you reached his lips, you bit softly into his neck which caused him to moan deeply with desire. Nyx stroked along your back and clawed into your shoulder blades as he felt your teeth digging into his skin.

With you in his arms, Nyx rolled you around, bringing you into a position to enter you teasingly slow. You moaned low with closed eyes by the pleasurable feeling caused by Nyx. You clawed your hands into your bedsheets, arching your back while Nyx captured your lips with his own for a passionate kiss. He always enjoyed every moment with you but now, this was intimate in a different way. None of you were driven by desire rather by the urgency to show your deepest emotions you held for each other.

***

As the sun rose, you sat in the wing chair to watch Nyx sleeping peacefully. He was tangled with your blanket, arms hugging one of your pillows. His braids and strands were tousled while his chest raised slowly up and down. One single tear slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheek. You wiped it away violently. You knew what you had to do…

*

As Nyx awoke, he knew the bed was empty. There wasn't much space left and he didn't have you in his arms anymore how he had fallen asleep. He pushed the pillow aside. His quickened heartbeat let him awake completely as he realized what it could mean that you weren’t there.

Nyx sat up and that was the moment where he saw you sitting in your wing chair, staring at him. You were crying again but this time silently and this was far more worse and painful for Nyx to witness than the emotional outbreak the day before, "YN? Since when do you sit there?", he asked carefully, noticing that you were fully dressed with a bag to your feet.

As you heard his voice, you blinked and looked at him, "A few hours. I wanted to leave but I- I... I saw you sleeping and couldn't go...", you whispered.

Nyx hurried out of the bed, kneeling in front of you, "I'm happy you're still here.", he said softly, cupping your face with his hand, "That's what you do, right? Leaving when it gets too much?", he asked but you just nodded as an answer. Nyx searched your eyes, "How many times have you done that before?"

You looked away, shrugging your shoulders, "I don't know. After the tenth time, I stopped counting."

Nyx sighed. He had moments where he felt lost but you were it. He had Libertus, Crowe, Pelna...you had no one. And that for a far too long time.

You looked at him, "I couldn't leave you, Nyx. I should have, but I- I couldn't... I can't give you what you deserve. I can't make you happy...", you whispered.

"Trust me, I don't even think I would deserve happiness-"

"I'm serious. I- I couldn't love you. I mean I can't love you... I don't know how. I'm not able to do that.", you breathed sadly.

"You don't have to. Why can't we just be together? No naming. No label. Just we.", Nyx offered a different way.

With doubts, you looked at him, "You still want that?"

"Oh, yes. I won't give up on you so quickly. Not after I saw so much of you.", Nyx breathed meaningfully and stood up, holding out his hand as a reason for your decision to stay.

You looked at his hand. At this strong hand that had driven you crazy and that gave you comfort at the same time. Without thinking too much, you took it. You placed your hand in his and let him guide you back to the bed. You undressed a few clothes and cuddled next to Nyx' side, curling up into his arms.

With a content smile, he inhaled your scent and pressed a soft kiss on top of your crown. Both of you were broken but at this moment, neither of you were alone because you had found each other.

#nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #nyx #nyx ulric x male reader #nyx ulric x female reader #male reader #female reader #ff15 nyx ulric #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric

[btssmutficslovingfan01]

Do Me

Summary: You hate each other but there’s something just so sexy about him.

Words: 4.9k

Pairing(s): Hoseok x (female) Reader, Slight Jin x Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: First Person POV, mature language, sexual humor, graphic sexual descriptions, the sex feels kinda real, reader doesn’t say it but it looks like she’s a virgin, mentions of open relationships, this entire story is literally a buildup to a gangbang also kinda badly written but that’s the charm

                               ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

He glared at me as I ran across the field, my shorts riding up my thighs and flashing him quite a bit of skin. I knew what he wanted, it was clear that he wanted to get me angry too.

Hoseok and I share a complicated relationship. He pushes, I pull. We’ve been at odds with each other since we met in ninth grade Algebra, as he was cocky since he knew he was the best looking boy in our grade. However, I never succumbed to his charms. I knew he was good looking, obviously, but he had a rotten attitude.

We became something like friends, since he was newly single and looking for a new girlfriend, and he naturally attached himself to me. Things were steady for a while but it changed after my 18th birthday. He had a girlfriend at the time and he opted to ditch my birthday party for her. 

The next day when I went back to school, I confronted him and poured my heart out to him. He ended the conversation, telling me his true feelings,

“I would’ve come but I wasn’t free! We would’ve had a blast together.” He looked visibly hurt and I could feel my face burning up. I sighed, turning away from him and sitting down in my own desk as he continued staring at me with those ice-cold grey eyes.

He returned my attitude with his own sour mood, reverting back to his older, fuckboy self. I hated him passionately, saving my tears for another guy who deserved them. I started dating his best friend, ironically.

We had to force a mutual tolerance for each other, he had to grimace as I greeted him “hello” every day at lunch and whenever he left, we made conversation. It went a little something like this:

“So how was your day?”

“You and I will never be friends.”

“I just asked you how you were doing, geez.” And then we would go back to our phones, pretending like nothing happened as Danny returned. 

We broke up a little over a month ago but something definitely changed between me and Hoseok again. We hated each other, but with every eye roll and glare, there was tension.

I couldn’t believe it, but every time he yelled in my face, I got wet. I started thinking of him whenever I masturbated, his lips on my clit, or his cock rubbing against my thighs, and how warm he’d feel against my cold skin.

I never told him about my fantasies, instead channeling all my anger at him, till it reached him directly.

Currently, we were in gym class and we haven’t said a word to each other. He slipped a note into my hand, just as we were about to go change. I read in his messy handwriting “Meet me in the boys locker room after everyone leaves.”

I waited, making sure there were no teachers or students in the proximity before sneaking into the boys locker room through the unlocked connected door that the teachers seemingly forgot to lock. 

When I slipped into the room, Hoseok was half naked, wearing only his pants as he smirked in my direction. I grit my teeth seeing his cocky grin and wanting to slap him silly but also wanting to kiss those soft lips and run my fingers through his hair. The connection between us was an unexplainable one. I was angry at him, but at the same time I wanted to get railed by him.

“What do you want?” I hiss, as he backs me into a locker.

“Why do you think I asked you to meet me alone?”

“I don’t know...” He grunts, caging me against a wall as I suck in a deep breath, trying to control my wild heartbeat. 

“Don’t play coy with me, missy.” I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes at him.

“You don’t scare me.”

“I was just gonna apologize.”

“For what?” When I turned back to look at him, he was inches away from me, his lips above mine. They were juicy and plump and I know I couldn’t resist any longer.

“For this,” He gives me the satisfaction of feeling those lips, his breath fanning across my face as the lights suddenly went out in the room and we were left in darkness. “Damn motion sensors. Now come on, let me take you home.” Normally I’d argue with him but I was too tired to put up a fight this time. Luckily since gym was the last class of the day, I could go straight home to shower. The school shower rooms would require me to shower and change all at the same time but going home would mean only showering and changing then taking a nap without worrying about classes afterwards.

“We’re here.” When I open my eyes after five minutes, Hoseok has pulled up in front of my house.

I thank him curtly before walking back home with my head hung low. What’s wrong with me? He waits for me to go inside before pulling back out the driveway  and retreating to his own home.

As I laid in my bed recounting the days events, I wondered what the hell I was thinking, kissing him like that.

I touched my lips again, feeling the familiar warmth arise in my chest as I take in a deep breath. I pull the covers over me and I decided to sleep on it.

The next day isn’t much better. Hoseok hasn’t said a word to me and I haven’t really talked to him either. I finally swallowed my pride during lunch, approaching him with a heavy heart.

“You know, it’s funny that we...yesterday...” Suddenly I can’t seem to find the words after looking into his deep grey eyes. He looks a lot more different today.

“Can we forget about it? I screwed up,” He sighs as I lean against the window next to me, watching him curiously as he turns to me with a red apple in hand. “I only asked you to meet me yesterday so we could talk about the elephant in the room.”

“Which might be...?” I urge him to continue but he just grunted before kicking the wall behind him and avoiding my gaze once more.

“Just drop it.” I step in front of him, blocking him from running away. He looked up at me with those same eyes which get me every time, and all was lost again. 

“Tell me, what did you really want to talk to me about?” He clenched his jaw, leaning in close, lips only millimeters away from my mouth.

“I want you.” I surprised myself by what I said next.

“Then come get me.” I walked away without saying much else, impressing myself with how bold I acted with Hoseok, my sworn enemy. Furthermore, was he seriously courting me? We hate each other. I don’t understand why he’s intent on getting into my pants. His hands probably don’t satisfy him anymore. 

“What’s up with you?” One friend of mine asks as I walk back to the lunch table empty handed. 

“Hoseok.” I reply with a small smile. 

“I thought you guys weren’t friends anymore. What did he want?” She asks, not really prying but still interested enough to ask. 

“Homework, or something like that.” 

“Oh my god, speaking of homework, earlier this boy in my physics class said something sexist.”

“What did he say?” Judging by her tone, he really pissed her off. 

“He said us girls are like homework, guys just do us.” I raise an eyebrow, shaking my head in disbelief. 

“Wow, he said that?”

“Yeah. And he’s not just any guy, he’s a freshman, his name was Jungkook.” I slap a hand on my cheek in shock.

“The basketball player who got into the varsity team after trying out?”

“That’s the one.” She chatters on about how annoying he acts and then moves onto her boyfriend, Jin. He’s handsome, smart, and very charming. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s gay but he has dispelled the rumors himself. He was seen kissing a guy at a rave but he denied everything and said he was experimenting.

Jin is an interesting character, but even so he’s too good to be true. Much better than Hoseok, that’s for sure.

“Hey Y/N.” He makes his way over to me after his girlfriend leaves to go buy a parfait.

“Hi Jin.” I wave at him, not keeping my gaze on him any longer than I should. It would be highly inappropriate if I showed more interest in my friend’s boyfriend, especially since he was a known player. 

“So I was planning on throwing a little after party for the team this weekend, and I was wondering if you would come?” I shrug as his lips curl up into an attractive smile. My heart is racing at the speed of light, but I didn’t want to lose my cool in front of him just yet.

“What’s in it for me?”

“I could introduce you to some of my friends. You’re a pretty girl, and I’m sure you get asked out all the time. It’s a shame you’re single, though.” I cross my arms as he flatters me, sitting on the edge of my seat as this gut feeling tells me to run away. I don’t want to run, there is nothing threatening about Jin in the slightest. I’m just intimidated.

“Okay, sure.” So maybe things didn’t go as planned. If things go well enough at the party, on the upside I could end up meeting the love of my life.

“I’ll ask Bae to send you the details.” 

“Hey.” He stands in front of me, sweat dripping off his forehead as he dabs his face with a towel.

“Hey yourself.” I give Hoseok a forced smile before walking over to the cooler to refill my water bottle.

“Spring ended pretty quickly, didn’t it?” He tries to keep the conversation going but I’m too focused on the game to care.

“I guess. Oh, the other team made it!”

“You like basketball?” He scans the boys first before turning back to me. 

“It’s fun. What’s it to you? Aren’t you supposed to be running track?”

“I am, well I was. It started raining outside and coach made us run laps around the gym section. Yep, I ran 103 laps.” I smirk, pulling his towel off his shoulder.

“You might want to get back in there. I can already hear the coach screaming for you to get back to the upper gym.” His nose scrunches up as he looks at his watch in disdain.

“Oh shit, I was supposed to be there like 5 minutes ago. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Bye.” I wave him off, tossing the towel into the nearest laundry bin I could find.

After the basketball team wins with a solid 21 points in the lead, we all head down to Jin’s house to celebrate. It felt awkward at first, since I was invited by Jin but he was hanging out with his girlfriend the entire time and I was third wheeling, but by the time I had the fourth drink, it was perfect.

Jin’s hand is on my shoulder as I tell him things that people with only crude humor understand, and while Bae was busy in the bathroom, I got introduced to Jungkook, the star player and his equally bitchy girlfriend, Raini.

“Hey guys, it’s been a long day but I think we ought to play some 7 minutes in heaven, don’t you think?” I hold up my coke can as one of the players makes a suggestion.

“Wait, aren’t some of you guys in relationships?” Raini and Bae have similar reactions, as they step forward out of the small crowd of people, sitting by my side while stroking my hair (and making me uncomfortable if I might add) and complimenting my lip tint.

“We’re both in open relationships, me and my boyfriend are like this so we won’t let anything like sex get in the way of our romance.” I scratch my head as Raini puts her fingers together, not really reassuring me since her nails were longer than my legs and she clearly didn’t give a fuck about who her boyfriend was sticking his cock inside.

“I’m not in a relationship, but I do know that if I was it would probably be closed.” I lunge forward, catapulting myself off the couch as I try running anywhere they aren’t. These girls are intimidating, they aren’t ashamed of their sexual ambitions and they were open to anything. Whereas, I wouldn’t be caught dead with a boy in bed. Sex makes me flustered, what can I say?

“Hey, where are you going cutie? The party’s barely started.” Jungkook suddenly had his arms around me, his body stinking of cologne and sweat. I expected a citrus scent from him since that’s what all the girls who slept with him said but instead I was met with a nasty odor that clogged up my nose.

“Jungkook, stop being such a dick. Can’t you see she doesn’t want to hang out with you?” When I met eyes with Hoseok again, I knew I couldn’t let him go again. I need to have him at my fingertips, preferably under me because I wanted to take control. I want to do to him what he did to me.

“Oh sorry man, didn’t know she was your girl. I was under the impression that you two hated each other,” Jungkook stares straight ahead, searching his eyes for an answer. When Hoseok grips my hand and I don’t say a word, Jungkook backs away. “Alright, be that way. Just don’t come bitchin’ to me when she messes up your shit again.” Jungkook pushed past Hoseok as I stood behind him, pondering what he could have possibly meant by me “messing his shit up.” He might have liked me in the past. Just when I thought I had him all figured out, he goes and pulls this on me.

“Hoseok, wait,” I stop him before he tries walking away. “What did Jungkook mean?”

“I don’t have time for this.” He sighs, trying to push past me as I block the way again.

“Please tell me the truth.”

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” My heart stops when he closes in on me, kissing me softly as I sigh into his lips. 

“That’s all, isn’t it? Tell me, do you feel the same way I do?” I ask as we break the kiss.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He gives me a heart-shaped smile, pulling me into an empty bedroom. He kissed me with more passion this time, his lips practically glued to mine as he pushed me down on the bed. He crawls over me, trapping my body with his. I want this. I feel every fiber of my being heat up with lust, all because of him. Why does he have to be so freaking sexy? “Are you sure about this?” He asks as I pull off my top and kick off my pants. Lips parted as he stared at me in awe, he waited for me to answer. He already had his shirt off, so I had trouble concentrating on what he had to say because he looked yummy.

“Yes.” I pull him down on top of me for a kiss, gasping a bit from the bone crushing weight of his torso as he rests his body on mine momentarily. 

“Sorry, almost blacked out there for a second.” He smirks at me as I shake my head.

“It’s no problem, princess.” He nips my lower lip slightly before moving down to my neck, leaving kisses as he tosses my bra aside.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” I smacked my lips together, giggling as my lip gloss was smeared all over his face from our sloppy kisses. I feel a string of saliva dribble down my chin as he unbuckles his pants.

“Can I suck you off first?” I feel shy all of a sudden, and considering that I was more naked than he was at the moment, it doesn’t really add up.

“Of course, sweetheart,” His eyes wander down my figure as I crawl to the edge of the bed, blushing as I see his hard-on. “Now don’t go getting all shy on me, babe. Why don’t you start by opening your mouth and you can suck the tip first?” The tip, right. I was completely inexperienced with anything sex-related. Hoseok gently caressed my hair, sucking in a breath as I brought my lips down and closed my mouth around his shaft, slowly falling into a rhythm as he parts his lips, rocking his hips forward, now thrusting his hard cock into my mouth every once in a while, the head twitching and jerking with Hoseok’s spasms.

“Shit,” He groans, watching me as I gag a bit on his dick. My ear throat burns but an overwhelming feeling of lust clouds my vision. I made him weak. “You’re so good at this, baby,” I continue sucking his cock, taking him deeper in my mouth once I get the hang of it. I was bobbing my head up and down in a repetitive motion, watching him with wondrous eyes as he releases the most delicious noises. I feel more dominant, reducing the Hoseok Jung into nothing more but a moaning mess of pleasure. “Move further down, the base...ahhhh that’s more like it.” 

“Are you cumming?” I giggle as he rolls his hips forward, feeling my head between his legs as gently as possible.

“If you keep at it, yeah. I will.” 

“In my mouth?” His jaw drops open as I pout, looking up at him with a twinkle of mischief in my eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I just thought—”

“I was kidding. But I’m not a fan of the taste.” I smack my lips, managing to swallow a bit of the residue.

“Same here. I think cum tastes disgusting but eating pussy is what I’m best at.” I raise a brow at him as he starts bragging about his skill. There he goes again, gloating about something in my face as we’re in the middle of a moment. It’s ridiculous, he just won’t stop being annoying. So, I decided to amp up my game. Feeling the lightbulb go off above my head, I look up at him as his dick goes limp in my hands.

“Quiet. Why don’t you do something useful with your mouth for once in your life and just get on your knees, bitch?” He winced, giving me that look most boys give me when I’ve said something outrageous. I might have gone overboard with calling him a bitch, but as far as insults go, it’s not my worst.

“Whoa, you could’ve said it nicely. If you wanna get eaten out, all you gotta do is ask, baby.” I smirk, pushing my thighs together as Hoseok reaches down to grab my throbbing clit. 

“Don’t call me “baby.” I’m not yours, I’m my own person,” He yanks his hand free, staring at my clear fluids coating his fingertips as I cross my legs. “I guess the toy became the player. Come here.”

“What’s up with you?” Hoseok asks as he crawls between my legs.

“I was just trying something but I didn’t like it. Got me feeling tight.” Hoseok lets out a chuckle as I tell him what was bugging me earlier.

“That’s a good feeling. It means you’re enjoying yourself.”

“No, it’s not. I called you a bitch and disrespected you by calling you a player. I’m sorry that I’m like this.” 

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” His soft voice makes my heart flutter. He’s speaking to me in such a soothing voice and with a buttery tone that just makes me want to suck his cock all day. Damn, I’m horny.

“I just want this to be perfect, for both of us.”

“It’s already perfect.” He kisses the back of my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine after. Our palms were sweaty and sticky, and my breath smells nasty. I should have brought some gum.

“Please continue. I won’t stop you,” We share a smile as Hoseok brings his tongue down to lick my clit, finally reaching my bud as he kisses my pussy with the utmost care. He makes sure not to accidentally bite me, his lips massaging my heat as pleasure overtakes me and I feel a strange sensation like I’m about to explode. But it’s not like peeing, it just feels very good.

“Hoseok!” I call out his name once as he slurps me up with his pink tongue, now with his lips barely even grazing the surface, as his tongue does most of the work, from the inside. I can feel him, my nipples hardened the moment his mouth touched my pussy. I felt close. Whatever that meant. When I started tensing up, instead of stopping me, he started rubbing his nose against my pussy, thrusting his slick tongue into me at a quick pace. “I’m gonna cum!” I cry as his tongue dances across my labia, and I gasp out of shock and relief after the cum spews all over his face.

A knock on the door interrupts us as Hoseok pulls away from my wet heat and he gets up, sighing as I cover myself with the blankets, still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm.

“You can’t be up here. I get that you’re trying to enjoy the moment but my sheets are new and I’d rather not put them in the laundry right away.”

“I didn’t think you’d kill the mood so quickly, Jin,” Hoseok seems to have a silent stare down with the boy as he stands at the doorway, peering into the room with prying eyes. “I’ll be back.” Hoseok tells me, shutting the door and stepping out in nothing but his boxers.

It was getting cold, without his warmth and pleasurable tongue disappearing between my folds once again as promised.

“What took you so long?” I ask when he finally comes back after 10 minutes.

“Sorry. Just needed to sort some stuff out with the boys.”

“What?” 

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter now. Jin said he’s okay with us doing it on his bed.”

“Well now I just feel bad. Come on, at least fuck me on the rug.” Hoseok smirks as I lower my ass to the ground, leaning forward as he gets behind me.

“If you’re sure about this…” 

“What are you talking about? My ass is literally—Oh, OH.” I choke back my tears as he splits my pussy in half. I felt an excruciating pain first before I was wet enough to the point where he could slide right in.

“Fuck yes.” Hoseok’s sloppy thrusts get smoother over time as I loosen up, it feels more amazing as he fucks me harshly, his testes slapping against my ass and all. I felt my core clench all of a sudden, and an all-too familiar feeling creeping up on me again.

“Hobi…” 

“I know, baby.” He gropes my boobs as he kisses my neck, sliding his warm hands down my entire body as I bounce back on his dick from an odd angle. He was currently holding my arms back, like reigns as I used gravity to propel myself back on his dick and he pushed his body forward to collide with mine. Our skin made a hard clapping sound, like how skin sounds when you smack it really hard or something.

“I’m a little sore now, fuck my life.” I curse as the back of my thighs clench from being smacked against Hoseok’s toned ones. This man has some rock hard muscles. 

“That’s a little ironic, considering that I’m actually fucking you right now.”

“Hoseok, I’m actually in pain, can't you just help me out just this once?” He sighs, pulling out of me as I moan from the sudden loss of his dick. Who knew I was such a whore for cock?

“Get on the bed.” 

                                                       ⚠️

When I saw him for the first time after our lustful tousle in Jin’s bedroom, he evaded my gaze. I took things in my own hands by texting him to meet me in the locker room after everyone left. I had my doubts at first, but after I heard the heavy footsteps, I felt reassured.

Hoseok was avoiding me.

“What’s your deal?” I ask as he rubs his neck, sweat dripping down his forehead despite him having showered and smelling daisy fresh. 

“I dunno.” He avoids my gaze again, and finally losing my last nerve, I slam him against the lockers, just like he did to me when we were first in here.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Hoseok. I don’t appreciate when guys fuck me and then leave me hanging the next day at school. We’re friends, right? What’s got you so shaken up?”

“It’s the...agreement I made with Jin.” I keep my arms on either side of him as he gulps anxiously, his Adam’s apple shining as he swallows his saliva.

“What’s the agreement about?” 

“He asked me...for a turn.” I back away from him, dropping my arm back to my side.

“So you agreed to pimp me out just to fuck me in Jin’s bed?” 

“No, I was gonna take it back but he said that I can’t go back on my word or he would tell everyone that we were..” Hoseok sounded ashamed. He didn’t want any rumors of us and the worst part is that he didn’t even tell me about this stupid deal.

“You know what, this isn’t your problem anymore.”

“What?” He asks as I pick up my bag.

“If you’re embarrassed of me I’ll just go fuck your friends. At least they aren’t afraid of a little pussy.”

“I’m not afraid! And how are you gonna do that? You were extremely shy with me.” He folds his arms, expecting me to run back to him. But I won’t give him the satisfaction, oh no. I’m going to do as I said and fuck Jin. Bae said she was in an open relationship with him anyways, so it doesn’t matter.

“Watch me. You’re totally invited, but I won’t be sucking your dick along with theirs.” I leave him alone in the locker room, taking a pack of gum with me before meeting up with Jin.

“Hey you, I just wanted you to meet the boys before we got started. And in case you want to see any tests we’re all clean and everything is back at Jungkook’s place. His parents own this cool pool house which is five times bigger than my entire house and you’ve been there before so it’s safe to say that you’ll be in good hands.” Jin puts an arm around my shoulder as we walk out to his car.

“Will Hoseok be there too?”

“Yep, and just so he doesn’t break the no-touching rule, we’re tying his arms behind his back and only letting him out to use the bathroom and stroke his dick. It’s gonna be painful!” 

“Sweet. What about the ceiling silks, and rope bounds, gag balls?” I ask.

“Whoa, slow down. We’re not going full BDSM, just some aspects,” I raise an eyebrow at Jin. “Not in front of the whole school, freaky nerd girl.” 

“Could a nerd do this in public?” I place my leg strategically between his legs, resting it on his hardening cock as he groans, blushing a bright red as students passing by whisper and laugh at him as he nearly cums in his pants.

“Okay, release, release! Sorry for calling you a nerd. You’re actually pretty cool, Princess.” I giggle, surprising him with my boldness as I did something so rash in public. After having sex with Hoseok, it’s safe to say that I’m a changed woman.

“Hey!” I say in a warning tone. “Call me that again.” He smirks at me with a familiar look on his face. As we walked off together, Hoseok watched us and when he thought I wasn’t watching, Jin gave him the middle finger. Looks like I stumbled into the middle of something I wasn’t supposed to know about.

End Note: Read second part here

#hoseok x reader #fuckboy hobi #Smut #bts #bts hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok fanfic #jhope x reader #jhopeff #bts fanfiction #hoseok imagine #seokjin #jin #jungkook #bts jhope

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Another Brick in the Wall

Part 8

Me? Rapidly updating a story for the sake of satiating my own curiosity for how this will continue? It's more likely than you think. Did I spend upward of ten minutes deciding and researching the weapons and blade types used just for one paragraph worth of text? Absolutely.

You know, the mentions of neglect and child abuse and violence is actually kind of light considering. Still very present though.

Closed list that I've been hitting up the last three days: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Training with Talia's personal squadron the day after waking from the pits came as no surprise. Starting up history and world languages classes however, took her a bit off guard. 

Marinette was already fluent in french and english from her own volition, and picked up spanish from Jason over time after finding his own fluidity and background with the language. The two had been slowly learning mandarin after her uncle's visit a few years back and Jason insisted they figure it out together with her own heritage being a driving force. She had died before they could become fully conversational. 

When Marinette offered this information up to Talia, bypassing the reason she spoke so many languages already and passing it off as Jason's love for knowledge and literature combining, Talia immediately turned her over to two teachers; one to teach mandarin and eventually expand into cantonese and another to focus in on arabic. The second was seen as the priority what with location and its commonality within the complex. Obviously, the league's personal dialect was taught as a subset to these lessons, though it was ensured she knew the differences.

History focused in on Asia, occasionally falling off track into South American and African history, her western knowledge cohesive and complex enough to satisfy Talia, which came as no surprise seeing as though Europe and North America tended to focus only on their own history. She couldn't help but think how jealous Jason would be to know she received extensive free education that wasn't the same rhetoric he'd been hearing since he was five, granted with more reality and detailing as time passed.

They held off on teaching the League history until they felt her world knowledge was comprehensive enough to appreciate the way their personal history tied into it all.

The physical training took up about six hours every day. An hour of stretching, followed by two hours of hand to hand combat, then two hours specializing in weapons, and finally another hour of stretching. Her weapons focus geared towards close combat mostly, with a preference for the F-S fighting knife, a double-edged blade sitting just short of eight inches and a BC-41, essentially a set of brass knuckles with a blade running through the inner palm and extending outwards by a good 5 inches. When maintaining some distance and using more of her martial arts training, she leaned heavily towards a double bladed staff. The experience of twirling a weaponized yoyo for a year made using the staff a comfortable transition. 

It took three months before Talia felt comfortable sending her out on a mission with her team. It ended up a bloodbath. They were meant to track down a league member gone rogue, only to find the woman training others. They took out the entire group, Marinette falling to the bloodthirsty voice echoing in her head at all times. By the time she came fully to, dead bodies littered the ground about her. She suppressed herself to the back of her own mind, forcefully disassociating until they arrived back at the underground city three days later, hiding away in her rooms before breaking down. Talia found her in the midst of a panic attack and talked her down, explaining how the pit caused the worst of her to form into a tangent voice in her head, how it took time and practice to tamper it down to the almost nonexistent form it took before her dip. How it wasn't her fault she fell pray to it and the objective had been to take out the target anyways. That the defective leader would've trained that group to come back and take them out. That it would've threatened her life in the complex had she not killed in front of the other assassins. The idea that it all was a form of self defense helped ease her mind, though she vowed to try harder, to take back control from the pit madness that overwhelmed her in that moment.

The week after, she took up meditation in her down time. While the reminder of her mother hurt, the peace and mental fortitude it offered held too high of an appeal to bypass. It helped that it seemed a common practice across the city. Whether to aid others in suppressing their own demons or just for the ritualistic quality, she didn't know, but the practice further blended her into the community, something Talia took great pride in. 

By her fifth month living amongst the League, her already decent mandarin had been perfected and they finally focused in on cantonese. Her arabic and league dialect progressed rapidly, but only due to constant exposure. Even one day spent away from the city ended with butchered words and completely horrific pronunciations of even the basics. Due to this, she never spoke outside of her lessons or the confines of her or Talia's rooms. It came as quite the embarrassment when the team had to rely entirely on hand signals during missions she accompanied. Sure, that was the standard anyways, but they all knew the option of speech was impeded by her. Luckily, they were all led to believe her mute instead of simply incompetent.

In her sixth month, she relapsed during a fight again, losing her mind until she locked herself in her rooms once more. It took Talia three days to get her to let the guilt pass once more.

It was around this time, Talia started pointing out specific escape routes and pathways that were blocked off or unknown to most. She started teaching her how to hide from even the assassins. Started to train her in private how to break through the other's defenses, to counteract their own training. They kept it all out of the public eye, where it could make its way back to Ras. Marinette couldn't say what the woman was preparing her for, but she took it all to heart. 

It was only a week after this development that she moved to a new training room. It held some of the higher ups within Talia's group and strangely enough, one small child. The kid was barely four feet, but quickly proved extremely adept with a katana. The two never faced each other, but he obviously took note of the newest member within the room. 

After a month in the new room, Talia seemed to relax once more, taking pride in Marinette having not relapsed in the passing time and showing no signs of backtracking. The child in the room only seemed to grow more observant as the days passed. It was on one of these days, that Marinette decided to make a move of her own. The head trainer had cut the kid down, the small body splayed on the mat, bruises and cuts littering his body, Talia standing in quiet observation from the corner. Marinette saw the glint of concern hidden within her eyes and reacted instinctively. She took her bladed staff and slipped behind the trainer who stood berating the boy below, laying the side of one sharpened end up on the man's shoulder, blade barely touching his neck, she waited until he turned towards her slowly and tilted her head with a condescending sneer, challenging him without a word spoken.

The man took his focus entirely off the kid, only to be swept off his feet and placed under a sharp blade, the child standing over him now.

"Lesson one, never lose track of the number of enemies in a room," the boy stated, hinting at a snarl.

"Damian," Talia called in a demanding tone.

The boy immediately backed off and allowed the master back onto his feet, his face expressionless beyond a tiny twitch next to his right eye. Both were dismissed for the day.

The next day, the trainer singled Marinette out. Upon his approach, she took up the staff once more. While she preferred her knives, she knew she needed an upperhand in this fight and had too much talent with the easily spun weapon to pass it up. She expected to lose, but refused to go down easily. As he stood before her, she waited patiently, slowly twirling the staff lightly between her fingers, not breaking into any specific stance. Best not to trap herself in a range of motions, but to keep open to move in any direction at a moment's notice. Talia trained her better than to lose for something as simple as having an attack come from a source her stance didn't allow a counter movement for.

Eventually, the man's built up resentment and frustration came through and he struck first. 

From there, the fight continued in an almost rhythmic, dance for her, an angry tsunami of movement for him. She was surprised how much the counteractions Talia taught her came in to use. She must have been training her in a parallel to the man before her, wanting her to best him. And with most of the assassins specialized in staffs using non-bladed forms, the easy twirl of twin blades always at him, it gave her a leg up over him. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the others had slowed their motions, watching their battle without fully stopping their own. The kid, Damian, had turned fully to watch, having ended the fight with his current trainer some moments before. 

Both her and the trainer had a slew of shallow cuts along flanks when finally, she landed a blow across his face, slashing from above an eyebrow, down the bridge of his nose and down the opposite cheek. With blood dripping into his eye, she managed to disable the man and bring them to a stand still. She might not be able to best Talia or even some of the more uniquely members within the group, but she could take down the lead trainer. The approving look of her own mentor and the curious stare of the young one was enough for her. She left the room with her head held high.

Talia increased her training tenfold afterwards, convinced she could take the workload now. Sent her on a more intensive mission and then promptly benched her, publicly for unknown reasons, privately to increase her lessons with Talia, herself.

At eight months, Damian cautiously approached her. The curiosity had grown and with the obviously protective manner of her challenge to the master, it seemed to ease him towards her.

He glanced at Talia who observed them with a closed off expression and turned back towards her with a determined look.

"So you're her new pet project?"

Marinette rose a single eyebrow in response.

"I'm her son," he growled out, amusing in his tiny, unbroken voice, if not for the accompanying words.

Without outwardly showing it, Marinette quickly processed her surprise, realization striking. Damian was her son. She had shown her how to take down most any enemy, how to escape, how to protect. Talia never showed any outward connection towards the child in front of her, practically ignored him until he stepped out of line. Marinette had seen the concern though. The fear and regret glinting towards the boy in odd moments when nobody was looking. All of the training, the private lessons, all hinting at an eventual escape. Talia wanted her to take Damian out of here. To escape with him. Needed someone unattached, with no connections in the world to hold them back with the right background. Jason just so happened to also hold an emotional connection for her with his past with Bruce reminiscent of her own. Used and forgotten. It was a way of offering a life to her own son while giving Jason a connection of his own when he had nothing else. As far as she knew anyways.

And Marinette couldn't fault her for it. Couldn't see a way to begrudge the woman this. Where would she be otherwise, if maybe a little less murderous? Out on the streets, alone and broken. Lost in the world. She felt gratitude, despite the woman blatantly using her. Somehow she knew that had circumstances been different, if Jason had a life to return to, she'd never have kidnapped her all those months ago. 

This all flashed within her mind in a moment, glancing at Talia before refocusing on the kid. She offered a light hum in return. Damian took this as the acceptance it was and went on his way. That was okay, she knew the lack of rebuttal and ease of her demeanor would draw him back soon enough. Looking up, she met Talia's eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod, not imagining the way the woman's eyes lit up.

#jasonette #maribat #ml x dc #WFTW #part 8

[isisparker]

Fireworks

[The Rookie - Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen - Chenford fanfic]

word count: 1.6k a/n: what was supposed to be a Tim POV companion piece to my other chenford fic (which by the way I am so overwhelmed and honored by the response! thank you so much!), this turned into a different story altogether.

--

Tim Bradford saw love like fireworks. For most of his life that’s all he knew and believed it could be. He was built to endure and survive that type of love.

It first started, as most loves we all learn early on, within the home he grew up in. His father was a difficult man that doled out fists instead of hugs, condescension instead of compliments, and rage instead of compassion. Tim’s father loved him like a Chrysanthemum: explosive, better experienced from a distance, and leaving a trail of visible sparks (or in this case, scars both physical and emotional). Ask Tim about his mother and, truthfully, it felt akin to loving those tiny Hummer fireworks. As a child those were glorious as they spun and whizzed ever so quickly by. But as an adult, you realize how fleeting they were. Just temporary bursts of brightness.

When Tim started his career (and born his love for) the military and, eventually, the L.A.P.D., he fell into each respective lifestyle as hard and fast as a maroon rocket sailing into the Fourth of July sky. He quickly thrived in both environments. And both experiences resonating loudly enough to help define who he is now (beyond his strength, his loyalty, and overall being).

Then there was Isabel. His first real love. A fellow cadet in the Academy. His friend. His lover. The woman he married, once upon a time. Beautiful and bright Isabel. His Dahlia firework; a few years together spent that were no less supremely felt, despite a marriage contained in a suffocating shell, to become a love affair that eventually burned out. However their love dissipated, Tim doesn’t regret loving his Dahlia. Though loving her was fiery and dazzling, and despite how much the embers of that devotion left a scorch mark on his heart, Isabel taught Tim that sometimes the best way to love a firework was to walk away and allow it to burst and flourish on its own.

“What about Rachel?” Lucy Chen asked quietly. Her gaze was out towards the horizon where the light show at the Santa Monica Pier was anticipated to begin, yet her body leaned towards his own as it awaited for him to continue. The night wind danced faintly around them. A strand of her hair beckoned to be touched, causing Tim to pause as he fastened his hands deeper into his jean pockets.

Rachel. Tim hummed, contemplating a proper analogy to his feelings about his ex-girlfriend. It had been a few weeks after their amicable break-up. She had a job opportunity in another state that she couldn’t pass up. He couldn’t fault her for taking it up, just as she couldn’t fault him for not loving her enough to consider a long distance relationship.

Kind, smart, compassionate Rachel. A woman that, despite falling into because of a damn bet, became a force of light he didn’t realize he needed after Isabel. Her impact was immensely felt, but a piece of him knew that it would be short-lived. Tim smiled wistfully, “A beautiful waterfall.” He looked down at Lucy, a little mirthful as he explained, “Technically it’s a horsetail firework, but the effects are similar to a waterfall; long-burn explosion but only lasting a short distance before it broke free from its shell to fall back to earth.” He glanced back up, not wanting to see the pitying look in his Boot’s eyes.

Though he supposed that soon she’d no longer be his Boot. Colleague? Definitely. Partners? If he had any say but knew it’d be a hard sell to Grey. Friend? If Chen had any input on how she wanted to define themselves (and she does but he wasn’t about to give in so easily else she thinks he was a pushover for her, which sadly he might be if there’s any indication as to how she roped him into spending his free Saturday night watching fireworks).

When he looked back down at her, he was mildly surprised to see her looking at him not with pity but thoughtfulness. It was a good look on her, but he’s bore witness to it a few times on the job that it usually made him weary. “What, Chen?”

She stared at him a little longer than he admittedly was comfortable with. Almost as if warring with the words in her thoughts and the consequences once she’s allowed them out. Tim wasn’t about to squirm under her gaze anytime soon, but he wasn’t looking forward to hearing whatever psychoanalysis she was brewing inside that pretty head of hers.

Falling into a standard defense pose, he rolled his eyes and smirked at her, “Don’t make me regret opening up to you, Chen.”

Following with her own smirk, Lucy quipped, “I just asked you why you liked fireworks. Not give me a crash course of the Bradford Love Language.” She hummed, gave a short nod, then added, “At least now I know what to look for in finding the next, great love of your life.”

Tim chuckled at that before he shook his head. “Nope. Not happening, Chen.”

“Aw,” she pouted, “Why not?” Lucy grinned, “Did I not do an amazing job with Rachel?”

He conceded that she did. He even vocalized it as such. However, “I don’t need help falling in love, Chen.” Tim crossed his arms in a near defensive stance despite the teasing lilt in his voice.

“Well I know that it’ll be awhile before you date again!” Lucy nudged him with her body. He returned the nudge, causing her to giggle and call him a dork. “I’m just saying that now I know what kind of love you’re looking for!”

He raised his brow at her, amused that she believes to know him so well. Tim reached over to tuck a bit of her hair, a strand that continued to dance along the breeze, while she busily counted on her fingers that “You’re looking for a bold, passionate, all-consuming, explosive type of love!” Tim regarded her during her diatribe, bemused by the fact that despite her insistence on going without a jacket, her short sleeve blouse did little to hide the goosebumps caused by the California night air. Grateful that he had the foresight to wear a long sleeve henley, Tim barely paid mind to her words while removing his own jacket and placing it over her shoulder. “Oh, thanks,” she said, slipping her arms in its sleeves before continuing, “A love that will blindside you with how beautiful it is and knocking you on your ass!” A satisfied laugh escaped her lips as she asked, “Am I right?”

“Blindside, huh?” he mused. “Like how I blindsided you on our first patrol together?”

Lucy rolled her eyes despite returning Tim’s own teasing smirk. “Ha. Ha. Cute, Bradford.”

Tim nodded, “That I am,” he joked, earning another eye roll and a groan from her.

“Ugh,” she groused, “forget it!” Lucy glanced at her watch, “The show’s about to start soon.”

He quietly laughed at her exasperation towards him. Especially knowing that it won’t last long as she soon began bouncing on the balls of her feet like an eager child. Tim edged himself closer to her, serving as both barrier and protector from the crowd gathering to partake in that night’s activities. He knew that she didn’t need him to shield her from others, but it eased his own mind to know that he had her back should anything happen.

They stood together in companionable silence, the anticipation of the audience around them humming a prologue before the show itself. Tim took another chance to observe Lucy, unable to hide the smile on his face as he watched her excitement for the fireworks build. 

She was twisting her pale oval-shaped ring on her finger, a twitch she had even before the events of He Who Shall Rot In Hell, as he likes to think of the asshole that nearly killed Lucy months back. He watched her toy with her ring a bit more before he fostered a heavy enough sigh to gain her attention. Just as Lucy was to question him, Tim reached out to grab her hand within his own.

He saw her tilt her head but he didn’t say a word. Tim half expected her to speak her mind (it was, after all, one of her more frustratingly endearing traits), but was relatively surprised when Lucy remained quiet…

“Not all love is like fireworks,” Lucy said finally, low enough for just the two of them. He could feel her barely concealed nerves as she spoke, which caused him to gently squeeze her hand in a comforting gesture.

“I know,” he replied, finding himself exhaling a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. And he did know. Sometimes love wasn’t loud fights, but concerned confrontation of hard truths to be said. Sometimes love wasn’t passionate courtship that struggled to breathe, but quiet trust and friendship being built through heartache and trauma. Sometimes love wasn’t meant to blaze the night sky, but to be that warm escape to someone’s dark abyss. Sometimes love isn’t a flower made of sulfur and magnesium, but one that blooms quietly until they’re ready to be embraced by tender hands.

Tim had known the heat, the boom, the wondrous feel of love like fireworks. He was built to endure and survive that type of love. But one that comes as softly as the night breeze caressing the face of the woman, his colleague, his friend, right next to him? Oh he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t scared of being brought to his knees by it.

~fin~

Sometimes love isn’t fireworks. Sometimes love just comes softly. 

#the rookie #chenford #tucy #lucy x tim #chen x bradford #otp: you know me so well #my fanfic #i continue to hope that i do these two justice #writing from tim's pov ish was so much harder than lucy's! #but i wanted to write a story from tim's pining i mean...

[chloasiajones]

This is my new smau. It's a Sokka x F!Reader pairing smau. Title: More Than A Roommate

Trigger warning: Mature! Slight swear warning! If your sensitive to mature language and swearing, I've warned you ahead of time. Fluff warning!

Y/n's new roommate seems intensely interested in her life and wants to know everything about her. She's flattered and a little freaked out, but it’s nice to have someone to talk to. Though she thinks it's a problem that he's so handsome and their living together. But what will he do when he finds out Y/n's a Firebender? Will he accept her for who she is or will he shut her out because of his bad past with the Fire Nation?

Special Edition Part 8. . .

Part 9 coming soon. . .

Y/n's P.O.V.

I sighed as I set my phone down on the couch beside me. I turned my phone down to vibrate. After Jet I honestly don't want to talk to anyone else tonight. Maybe spending this time with Jet will help me. I know we broke up, but honestly it was my fault why we broke up. I dumped him. And that was because I was leaving the Freedom Fighters and I couldn't stay with him. I had duties in other places and I had to leave. I made Jet think it was his fault. Mainly because it was too painful to tell him the truth. Now things are just too complicated. I still have feelings for him, and I have feelings for Sokka. I dont know what I'm supposed to do as of right now. I was afraid Sokka was gonna be mad at me and now I dont know what to do. The doorbell sounded throughout the apartment. I took in a deep breath before walking over to the door. I was nervous to open it. I haven't seen Jet in a few years. But as I said, maybe it'll help me. I opened the door to Jet standing there with a six pack of dt. Pepsi cans, and a bag with chips, popcorn and chocolate. He smiled as he held them up.

"Hey, I brought your favorite," he told me with a smile.

Without knowing what I was doing at that moment, I attacked him, by throwing my arms around his neck, hugging him. It took him way by surprise as he accidentally dropped the bag of snacks. Though he didnt hesitate to put his free arm around me, pulling me closer to him. He practically buried his face in my neck.

"Thanks for comin' Jet," I said to him on the verge of tears.

Jet took in a deep breath.

"I missed you so much," Jet said to me softly.

After realizing I was still hugging him, and now things were awkward as hell, I cleared my throat moving away from him.

"Well, please step into my apartment," I said to him.

Jet picked up the bag.

"Gladly," he spoke seeming happy.

I closed the door as he walked in.

"I see you've got most of the place set up," Jet said to me as he set the stuff on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"Yeah, - I've got Ghost Hunters qued up on the DVR, - and also blankets on the couch -"

"So we can cuddle?"

I gave him a cocky look.

"So we can comfortable, -"

Jet gave me a devious smile. I laughed as I walked over to the couch.

"Dont be an a*s," I told him as I sat down.

I picked up one of the blankets, covering myself. I shivered as Jet stood behind the couch, directly behind me.

"I'm gonna go freshen up in the bathroom, - Where is it?" Jet asked me leaning closer to me.

"Uh, just down the hallway, next to Sokka's room," I answered.

Jet gently and on purpose, touched my shoulder as he walked away. I think he knew I still had feelings for him and he was gonna do everything he could to prove that to me. I sat there waiting almost impatiently for him too return. I found myself wanting him to be in the room with me. I thought about checkin my phone but I didn't. Tonight I just wanna forget about my troubles. As Jet stood back in the living room, he turned the lights off. Leaving just the lights of the tv in the room. I looked back at him, just staring at him.

"What? It makes watching the TV that much more entertaining," Jet said to me in an innocent tone.

"Mhmm, and is there any reason why you're wearing your shirt unbuttoned?" I asked him.

"Its hot in here,"

I scoffed, "It is not hot in here, I have the AC on,"

"Oh, then it's just me,"

I smiled as I rolled my eyes.

"Get your dumb a*s over here before I change my mind and make you leave,"

Jet moved around to sit next to me. My stomach jumped as he did.

"Na, you couldn't - You need someone right now,"

I pressed my lips together in slight annoyance.

"Yeah, - Sadly you're right - Its too bad it had to be you,"

Jet pretended to be offended.

"Ouch,"

In a soft gesture, he put his arm on the back of the couch, motioning that he wanted to put his arm around me. I dont know why I did it, but I moved closer to him, snuggling up next to him, letting him put his arm around me. I remember when this was me and Sokka. I'm afraid he wont be coming back. I let myself get closer to Jet. I'm afraid this wont end well.

Later that night. . .

I leaned away from Jet, sitting back up on the couch. Jet had a concerned look as he looked at me.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Jet asked me concerned.

"Yeah, - I think so -"

I looked at him as I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

"Jet I want to thank you for spending time with me tonight. I didn't really wanna hang out with anybody, but you've helped me forget about my problems, pretty easily," I said to him in a soft voice.

"It always was easy for me to help you forget about your problems, -"

I looked at him as he moved closer. He used his finger to move a piece of my hair from my eye.

"Especially the way I used to do it," Jet said to me as he rested his hand on the side of my neck.

He moved even closer, almost touching his lips to mine. I moved away from him slightly. He backed away. I thought he would feel embarrassed, but he didnt.

"Listen Y/n, one of the reasons I wanted to find you was to tell you that, I really miss you, and that I love you. I want us to get back together," Jet explained to me confidently.

"Jet, I don't-"

"Y/n, I know the real reason you broke up with me,"

An oh sh*t look crossed my face.

"You do?"

"You broke up with me because you were leaving and you were going to miss me. You only made it seem like it was my fault, because you thought it wouldn't hurt as much. - I know you still love me, just as much as I love you- You cant deny it,"

I scoffed, adding a laugh.

"Yes, I can,"

Jet moved closer, putting his hand on my knee.

"Tell me you dont feel anything when I touch you,"

He didnt move his hand from my knee. My stomach was turned inside out. I tried to lie to him. Though I couldn't look him in the face.

"I dont feel anything for you anymore,"

"You're lying to me,"

"No, I'm not,"

Jet moved his hand farther up my leg. I could physically feel the shivers.

"Then look at me,"

I still didnt want to. I didnt want him to win. He moved his hand resting it on my hip.

"You sure you dont feel anything?"

I still said nothing. He moved even closer, running his hand slowly and softly up and down on my arm.

"What about now?"

I quickly put my hand on the side of his neck, connecting our lips, kissing him passionately. He seemed satisfied as he smiled into our kiss, moving even closer to me. He moved close enough to hover above me, holding himself up with the arm of the couch. In a quick instant he took off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. I might've given him the wrong impression.

. . .

Sokka's P.O.V.

I was very curious as to why Y/n wasn't answering my texts. I thought at least she would want to try to fix our relationship - our friendship. She means the world to me. I admit I'm a huge a*s for ignoring her and getting mad at her. I was just upset that she lied to me. I dont care that she's a Firebender. She's still amazing, and caring and loving. Even more than Zuko. Honestly, I would love to see her practice her Firebending. As long as she doesnt set our apartment on fire. I dont think we have the insurance for that. I quietly unlocked the door. Only to have my heart ripped out, when I saw her kissing a shirtless guy on our couch. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't get the words out. I didnt want to, but I couldn't help myself as a single tear fell from my eye. I slowly turned around and walked back out of the apartment.

If you dont want to be a part of the taglist let me know and I will remove you. I will not unless you ask me to.

Taglist:

@cece-lives-here

@sokkas--boomerang

@la-lay

@cuddlykoala101

@zukochi

@mochminnie

@theblueslytherin

@coldlilheart

@coconutsaiyan

@rosestyles69

@juniperwoodwell

@crazylokonugget

@fanficflaneuse

@dailytrashypanda

@feelingsarefxtxl

@my-friends-text-posts

@cosmicqueenieb

If you want to be apart of the taglist message me or reply. I'd be happy to add you

#atla zuko #atla #atla katara #atla sokka #atla toph #avatar the last airbender #katara #sokka #suki #toph #alta aang #aang #sokka x y/n #sokka smau #sokka of the southern water tribe #sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka imagine #sokka fluff #sokka fanfic #atla jet #atla jet fluff

[shreddedparchment]

Colocataire Pt.03

The Relationship

07/01/2019

Pairing: Thor x Reader x Steve     Word Count: 10,469

Masterpost     Warnings: Smut, threesome, smidge of angst, mostly fluff, language, polyamorous relationship

A/N: My hands hurt. lol I’ve been typing for hours. I went back and edited once but I’m going cross-eyed so maybe forgive me some editing mistakes? This is the last part to my @cametobuyplums ‘s writing challenge. I had so much fun exploring the way this plays out and where it ends. It ended and came together just as I wanted so I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

The sun is very bright. Blinding. Fucking annoying.

You shut your eyes against the glare of it and after struggling underneath something heavy, rush up, tossing your blanket aside as you stumble over the end of your bed.

Note to self: Install blackout blinds.

You shut the dark gray curtains. At least they shield out most of the light.

You groan, reaching to wipe at your face and head back to bed but give a squeak instead as your eyes find a long and very naked male form at the very center. Faced down. With wide, thick massive thighs and beautiful slightly whiter than the rest of his skin ass cheeks; hard, round muscles with the slightest concave on the outer sides.

You shut your eyes as the night flashes by in a flurry of lurid moans, salacious kisses, and dripping wet orgasms.

A nervous chuckle breaks your lips as you realize that last night you’d finally done it. You’d given in and though you might have been happy with a nice passionate kiss for your first romantic encounter with him, Thor had bedded you until the wee hours of the morning.

He’d first pounded you into the mattress, relentless in his desire for you and once the initial excitement of the FINALLY had worn off, he'd been softer. Tender. Emotional.

How many times had he whispered how much he loved you into your ear last night?

Your stomach flutters and with a bite to your bottom lip, you crawl back into bed.

The heavy thing you’d fought with to get up and out of bed had been his arm.

You trace its length from wrist to bicep and he hums under your touch. His long hair, still silky and flowing like golden waves on your pillow. It pools around him as he turns over onto his back to make room for you in his arms.

You settle beside him, resting on his chest as you press your own exposed breasts against his.

Sleepy eyes stare up at you. They twinkle, despite the exhaustion, with bliss.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“Morning.”

He stares into your eyes for a second before his own wander up to the rest of your head. His sleepy smile widens before he huffs and tries to choke back a chuckle.

“What?” You demand, but before you can reach up, his hands come up and then back down over your head to smooth your hair.

“I didn’t know this was what you look like right when you wake up.” He confesses.

“What? Is it really bad?!” You reach up again but Thor stops you and instead presses your arms in between his chest and yours and wraps his own around you.

He holds you tight, trapping you so that you can’t move.

“You’re beautiful.” He swears.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sizzle-cheeks.” You drag one finger from his temple to his cheeks as he leans towards you, straining his neck for a kiss.

You wiggle as much as you can towards him and give him your lips.

The soft moan that travels between you dies out slowly, then your stomach groans and gurgles.

Thor chuckles and tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Hungry?”

“A little.” You sigh, “We used up a lot of energy last night.”

“That we did.” Thor nods and then follows it up with a yawn.

You scratch the beard of his chin, give him a peck, then pull from his embrace.

“Sleep a little longer. I’ll go get breakfast started.” His hand holds onto you until you’re out of reach, eyes shutting as he watches you go.

You take the dusty pink robe from your armchair and leave the room tying the sash around your waist. You walk in happy, determined that nothing will tarnish your little slice of heaven with Thor but in the back of your mind, something reminds you that something is missing.

His face pops up, demanding acknowledgement and then you look up as you cross through the living room.

The kitchen isn’t empty. Steve stands with the milk in his hand, a bowl of dry cereal on the island counter.

The two of you stand frozen, staring at each other with a million things unsaid. You think of Thor’s words of how much Steve had wanted to stay with you last night but because of duty he’d run off to the party to do his part. His job.

His life is there, with them. With the Avengers. Maybe there isn’t any room for you in Steve’s life? Maybe Thor is the right choice?

As much as you wish you could keep it pure, your happiness is dampened by the slightest sadness. A yearning that still hasn’t been satisfied.

Steve.

“Morning.” You move to the fridge and grab the carton of eggs, determined not to fixate on Steve’s morning look.

Tight white t-shirt and a pair of black sleep pants, low slung, soft cotton to stroke for days. He’s a morning dream and part of you is still confused as to why they decided to come back here.

The mission is over. Why would he and Thor—well, you kinda get it but to live here with you still?

“G’morning.” He replies, voice still deep and gruff from just waking up.

“How was the party?” You ask, pulling a glass bowl from the cabinet over the sink.

You place it and the eggs, mushrooms, uncooked bacon and ham on the island. While you grab the cheese, Steve moves to organize your ingredients, like he always does.

“Boring, without you there.” He admits, and his words send your heart into a frenzy.

You stop to watch him and remember the many times before.

Whenever you’re up early enough to make them breakfast he’s always been there to help you. He puts it all just as you like it and then steps aside, his cereal bowl and milk forgotten.

You take up your station and Steve moves over a little closer.

“I’m sorry. I just—crowds and loud noises? I just couldn’t-”

“I know.” He assures you, reaching over with his hand to stroke the back of your bicep.

His touch sets your skin on fire and you have to focus extra hard on cracking your eggs. He turns around, leaning back against the island as he fiddles with his spoon.

You don’t want his touch to stop but he always pulls it away. Linger grazes that cut and sear all at once. You want more and more.

Give me more, Steve.

You wait. You want him to speak. To tell you what’s on his mind but you’re done with egg beating before he speaks again, and you wonder if maybe it’s just physical with you and Steve.

Even though Thor said that the two of them had agreed to keep their hands to themselves so as not to influence your choice between them, you and Thor have always been able to carry on conversation with ease.

With Steve things are always quieter. The air between you is heavy and you’re not sure if that means things are just that much more serious or that maybe you two aren’t compatible for a real relationship.

There’s no denying the charge between you. You want him. He…once wanted you.

You turn to take the bowl to the stove and put it aside as you cut the bacon and ham into smaller chunks. You cook them together in one pan, allowing the ham to soak up the bacon’s grease. The smell is heaven and you know Thor’ll be up and out of that bed soon because of the smell.

“I was talking to Tony last night.” Steve begins, putting the milk away but leaving the cereal on the island.

You glance at him, watch him shut the door as he stares at your face to see what expression his words might have wrought.

“Don’t you talk to him every day?” You tease, a small smile plays on your lips.

Steve’s face relaxes a little and he moves to stand by the counter beside you.

“He…” He stops, hesitating for some reason. “He told me about you. Things I didn’t know.”

Oh, that’s what he’s getting at. Of course.

“You mean the Red Room Academy? And how I was almost Nat 2.0?” You stir the sizzling meats and toss in the mushrooms.

“Yeah. How you were all set to be enrolled but his parents came and got you. Saved you.” He watches you, searching your face for any small inkling as to what you might be feeling.

“Howard and Maria were very generous with me.” You explain. “Howard and my grandma worked together, during the war. Maybe you knew her? She had my last name. Served in the intel office up until just after the war when she retired.”

Steve shakes his head, brow gathered with thought as he takes in your story.

“She wasn’t exactly in the thick of it, but she helped Howard out a lot and Peggy.” You stop this time, letting the name sit between you.

It does what you thought it would and Steve stiffens beside you.

“Peggy?” He asks, voice tight, sad. Why does it hurt to hear him react to her name? “My Peggy?”

It’s completely ridiculous that you’re jealous of a woman who is no longer living. Maybe it’s because she isn’t just a romantic rival but a powerful one. One that made change and affected the world around her.

You’re nothing but a pencil pusher. Working ads for some conglomerate. No one will ever know your name. You’re no one.

Also, ‘my Peggy'? It shouldn’t bother you but it does. You wanna be Steve's Y/N! Why can’t he fucking call you my Y/N? It stings, like acid. It burns away slowly at the composure you’ve become so good at having around him.

“Yeah.” You push a paper towel into a smaller bowl then dump the sautéed mushroom, ham, and bacon in. “The love of your life, right?”

He seems to come back from whatever memory he’s wandered into at your words, but you look away, unwilling to see what he might be feeling now. You start on the first omelet and watch as the egg hardens.

“Y/N…” Steve whispers, moving closer to you by the stove. You can feel the soft graze of his clothed chest on your shoulder.

He must see your hurt. His voice is so gentle.

Your heart aches, striving to understand the man beside you and what he might be thinking. What he wants. What he wishes for. What he’s still doing here despite the mission being over. Is it guilt because they left you here alone and you were buried in rubble?

Is that why he’s still here?

“So, anyway,” You press on, inhaling deep and exhaling as you speak. “When my parents passed away I moved in with my grandma but a year later she passed away and I’m honestly not even sure of the details myself but somehow KGB got their hands on me and before they could get me in that school Howard and Maria took custody.

“They put me up in a boarding school upstate and I never saw them again. I’d get letters. A gift on my birthday but I was alone really. I mean, I had friends, but I spent my holidays at school. They even paid for my college.” You smile, shaking your head a little as you think about the small trust fund that had long since run out that Howard and Maria had set up for you. Most of it had been your grandma’s money.

“That was nice of them.” Steve says.

“Honestly, I think I would have preferred they keep the money and invited me home on Christmas but…I guess that’s why I want a family of my own. Having lost so many people, you’d think I’d have learned my lesson but I want it. A husband. Kids. Someone who loves me and wants me.” You give him a wide smile and add some meat and cheese to the omelet you’re making before folding it in half so that it’ll seal.

“You want kids?” Steve asks, a small note of regret in his voice.

“I do.” You sigh and set your finished omelet aside. “Didn’t you?”

You hesitate because you don’t want to hear the answer and you don’t want to keep bringing her up but it’s so obvious that you wanting kids seems like a bad thing to him. A deal breaker maybe.

“With Peggy? Didn’t you want kids?” You look up at him this time, intent on seeing what’s in his eyes.

He stares at you, his storm blues full of restraint and confusion and sadness again.

“I-I didn’t think about it.” He lies.

You smile, laughing at his feeble attempt to hide it from you. Why does he care that you’re hurt by it? The fact that he wanted kids with Peggy but now thinks having kids with you wouldn’t be a good idea?

“You’re such a liar.” You tell him and work on the next omelet. “Why did you come back, Steve? The mission is over. You don’t have to live here anymore.”

He doesn’t answer. He lets you stew in the silence.

“It’s not like what happened is your fault. The Late-Night Bomber would have bombed the building regardless of whether you and Thor were living here. You don’t need you to feel bad about what happened.” You plate the omelets and move back to the island and set them in their spots on the other side.

Two are very large, one normal sized for yourself. This one you keep on your side of the island but it’s clear you mean for Thor and Steve to sit on the other side.

Steve follows, stopping beside you again, reaching out to take your hand on the counter.

“Y/N, I’m not here because I feel guilty. I moved in for the mission but I’m staying because I want to be here.” He confesses.

“Why?” You ask, desperate to hear him say the words.

You finally know how Thor feels. He’d just spent all night proving it to you, whispering it into your ear.

Why can’t Steve say it? Why can’t he lower his walls and just let you in? Those longing glances from across the room had been tantalizing but always brief.

The slip up in the bathroom, when he’d touched you and given in a little. Had it been too much to bear by then? What’s changed? Why won’t he touch you again?

His expression is pained as he stares into your eyes. His brow furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he starts to speak then changes his mind.

A minute passes and you give up. You shake your head, his storm blue eyes holding yours as the disappointment floods through you.

“You should eat your omelet before it gets cold.” You whisper, breathless and heartbroken.

You’d been so invested in your conversation with Steve that you hadn’t noticed Thor come in. He moves up behind you, wraps you up in his arms and leans down to kiss your neck.

Your heart soars and then drops as you think about Steve watching Thor kiss you.

“The food smells delicious.” Thor says, his lips still pressed against your skin.

He kisses up towards your chin and then reaches up to slide your hair back to get at your cheek. He uses one hand to turn your face towards him, forcing you to look into his electric blues and you’re grateful. As he places himself between you and Steve, using his large body to shield Steve from view, you’re truly grateful.

His soft expression and genuine happiness at seeing you soothes the ache in your chest.

He leans in and kisses you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss as he pulls you close. It feels needlessly enthusiastic. Almost as if he’s showing off. For Steve’s benefit maybe? You hadn’t thought Thor the type to throw things in people’s faces. Not this. Not the things that matter.

When he breaks the kiss, his lips smack loudly. He gives you one swift wiggle of his eyebrows before he deliberately slides away from you renewing your sight to Steve.

You don’t get to look at him long. Steve’s large body is pressing down on you. He leans down, hand cupping the back of your head as the other finds your hip, and firmly he presses his lips to yours.

You hear Thor chuckle somewhere to your left, eating his food probably.

That’s what he’d been doing? Coaxing Steve’s jealousy with his sloppy morning kiss?

Your heart is exploding with fireworks. Another FINALLY as Steve gives in.

Steve’s arm wraps around your waist as he slides his tongue along your lips to tease them open.

You shudder at his tenacity and obey, wrapping your arms around his neck as you push yourself up onto your toes to kiss him back eagerly.

Steve’s kiss is slow and churning. His tongue makes long strokes as he memorizes the way you feel pressed against him. Months of pent up emotion pour from his lips into yours and it leaves you gasping for air.

You pull away, to the side because you need to breathe in deep as Steve continues to kiss your chin, your neck. His right hand reaches up to slide your robe aside and kiss your bare shoulder.

That’s when he realizes that you’re naked underneath your robe because he pulls back, surprised. He looks you up and down, staring at your robed figure. Blinking with utter astonishment.

He glances over your shoulder at Thor who you look at too. He’s chewing through his smile. No. It’s a smirk. A challenge. For Steve and Steve alone.

He’s telling him, yes. I fucked her.

Steve’s furrowed gaze finds yours again.

His hands explore the length of your sides, feeling the soft fabric with eager fingers.

“Steve…” You start but a quick flash of his storm blue eyes shuts you up.

They are laced with lust, desire, yearning. Just like Thor’s had been last night. But the slightest bit of anger and regret too.

As he continues to stare at you, Steve’s eyes shift away from the lust. A glimmer shines through and you know in that moment that he owns you. There’s a claiming in Steve’s eyes. All the hesitation from before is gone.

He backs you up against the counter while his hand pulls your sash free. Your robe falls open and your ears burn at your sudden exposure.

With your hands gripping Steve’s forearms, you feel the muscles tense beneath your fingers as he squeezes your hips.

He stares at your nearly exposed chest before he lifts you so suddenly you whimper in surprise. He sits you on the counter and slides his hands along your shoulders, pushing your robe into a puddle around your hips.

Rough hands massage your breasts. He ducks down to nip at the perked pebble of your nipple.

You curl your toes, thighs pressed together to combat the growing slick of your core.

“Steve…” You plead and even you’re not sure what you’re begging for.

For release? For a reprieve from having him do this in front of Thor?

Despite his jealous anger, Steve’s touch is sweet and firm but loving.

He straightens up and then it happens so quickly. Almost like a dream too perfect to be real, you watch him push his pants down, exposing the long swell of his perfect pink cock. He places both hands on your knees and pries them apart.

Without giving you so much as a moment to prepare he’s pushing into you, nudging closer and closer and your legs further and further apart as he stretches your walls to fit him.

You gasp, your knees rising to make room for him. He doesn’t stop pushing into you until he’s right up against you. Chest to chest.

With his arms wrapped around you and you gasping for breath, he leans down and shoves his tongue into your mouth for a dirty wet kiss.

You moan and he moves his hips, pumping into you slowly as he finds his rhythm.

It’s maddening and you can’t think properly. All you can this is a resounding yes! Finally, you have him. He’s inside you, loving you the way you’ve wanted him to.

Does this mean he wants you in all the ways you want him? Or is it physical? Is it just lust?

Steve suddenly stops and you look at him for a reason.

The startled expression on his face gives you pause and you search for what’s bothering him.

Thor stands beside both of you, his hands hooked into the bottom hem of Steve’s shirt.

“Don’t stop.” Thor says, soft but stern.

Steve eyes him up and as Thor lifts his shirt, Steve raises his arms away from you so that Thor can expose his chiseled torso.

You need to help him. Help Thor show Steve that the three of you are together.

You quickly run your hands along Steve’s exposed muscle. You hum in appreciation for his strength and reach down to give his bottom a squeeze.

With him settled within you, not moving, it’s torture.

“Steve…” You beg.

He looks at you, intense and slightly confused gaze burning you up.

“Please…” You plead.

Thor leans in closer, his lips mere inches from Steve’s ear.

“Don’t make her wait.” He says, his electric blue gaze on you again.

He’s enjoying this. He likes watching Steve fuck you.

“Our girl likes it hard.” Thor tells him. “She likes it hard and full of fire. Show her how much we’ve wanted her.”

Steve pulls his hips back then rams them into you hard, shaking your body against his as he renews the closeness of his chest against your breasts.

You moan, startled by his pounding as he gets going again.

Thor leans towards you, fisting your hair to tilt your head back and towards him.

He kisses you hard, then soft. First lust. Then love.

He pulls away as you bounce on the counter with every thrust.

Steve’s grunts get louder, his hands are vices around your hips.

Thor gives your cheek one final caress before he heads for the hallway and you’re sad to see him go. You know however that he’s leaving for Steve’s sake.

Thor had you to himself. Steve deserves the same.

“You’re just as perfect as I thought you’d be.” Steve confesses, a grunt thrown in at the end as he slides his hands down to your ass to squeeze you closer.

You stare into his eyes, each shove of his cock rocking you closer towards insanity.

“Steve…” You moan, but he can hear the question.

“Yeah, baby, tell me. Tell me how you want it.”

No. That’s not it. “Are you gonna break my heart?”

His hips stutter and he stops, squeezing your ass again and again as if he can’t believe you’re really there.

He swallows hard, his breath uneven as the small drops of sweat around his temples finally cascade along his red overheated cheeks.

You can see the gears in his head turning. He’s thinking fast.

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, baby. I won’t break your heart.”

You blink, pushing your tears back because if it’s coming from him you must believe it.

“But you won’t give me babies. Or marry me. Right?”

“What? I-" Steve stops to think again, he watches your growing sorrow until his own expression hardens with determination.

“You want babies, I’ll give you babies.” Steve promises and he rams into you again.

He moves faster, harder, grinding into you roughly.

“I’m gonna fill you up with babies.” He grunts.

You throw your head back and he dips down to suckle at your neck.

He licks there, tasting the salt of your skin as he presses you back further.

He lays you down on the counter and settles over you, pressing down on you as he fucks you.

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, tickling the soft hairs there as he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks hard. It hurts for a second before he’s licking circles, soothing the rough.

Everything with Thor and Steve seems to be rough first then soft.

As his pelvis slams into your clit, you feel the coaxing of your climax, a tight pull at your pelvis as he grinds against it.

“Yeah…yeah, Steve…” You mewl.

“Come for me, baby.” He groans. “M'gonna fill you up.”

He grips your shoulder and slams into you, crushing your nub until your body tenses and the explosion of release sends your body into shivers.

Your legs fall open as he continues to thrust into you, sloppy wet sounds of your orgasm filling the room.

You twitch beneath him, a shudder for every thrust that he pounds against your clit.

“Fuck.” He turns to bite into your neck and you cry out as his heat shoots into you and his hands bruise your skin.

Unlike Thor, Steve doesn’t collapse against you. Instead his hands roam the curves of your body. Squeezing your hip, your butt, your thigh, then back up to trace the curves of your side.

He worships your form, finally his.

The two of you bask in your climax for only a minute before Steve finds your lips in a slow, loving kiss.

“I love you.” He whispers against them, brushing them back and forth as he waits for your reply.

He needs to hear it like you did. His storm blue eyes flicker with want and so much love. Your jealousy just s few minutes ago seems silly and part if a different day.

“I love you, Steve. I’ve loved you for so long.” You gush and he’s already pumping into you again.

You gasp and he smothers you with kisses as he fills you up.

You shift on the sofa, adjusting your angle as you try and keep from pulling Thor’s hair. You’ve been braiding this one section for over an hour. You’re not happy with it. You hate it. You suck.

“I can’t get it right.” You whine.

Thor sits between your legs, watching TV. Animal Planet again.

“Look, there you are.” He teases, a laugh in his voice.

You glance up at the TV to see a baby gorilla climbing onto a larger female gorilla’s back. The baby is clearly playing but you understand what Thor’s saying with the way it clings to its mother’s back.

“That’s not me.” You half-laugh.

“Yes, it is.” Thor asserts. “You’re even grooming me.”

He leans his head back to look up at you.

“You’re my little monkey.”

The smile that stretches your lips is one you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re so ridiculously happy that you don’t remember the last time you smiled this much.

“That’s an ape. Not a monkey.” You counter.

Thor screws up his face, neglecting your nitpicking.

“You’re mine.” He reiterates.

Dropping his hair, you cup the sides of his face and lean forward to kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips.

He wraps his hand behind your head, keeping you in place so that he can give you one, two, three long pecks before releasing you.

“I’ve been thinking.” Thor begins, searching your eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I want to marry you.” He says it, just like that. As if he were thinking of buying a new brand of soap to try.

You blink, stomach in tumbles as you pull back to look at his full expression.

Thor looks as peaceful as ever. Sincere.

“Thor…”

“Not here, of course. There is a planet I know of that we might go and marry. A few of my people have made their home there and among them is a priest who will marry us. You will be my angel, forever.” He strokes his hand further into your hair as you continue to stare at him, dumbfounded.

When you say nothing, that pucker of worry between his brow folds and he lets you go so that he can get up and sit beside you.

“Say something, angel. I-Have I overstepped-?”

“No!” You gasp, reaching out to grab his hands. “No, Thor. I’m just, stunned. This is unexpected.”

“Is it? I would have thought you’d have known from the moment I kissed you that I wanted you to be my wife.” He scoots closer, wrapping his left arm around your waist.

This is good news. Happy news. So why are you apprehensive?

“Are you worried about Steve?” Thor wonders, reading you like a book.

“He’s so-”

“Possessive, yes I know.” Thor chuckles. “I’ve already talked to him.”

He begins to say something but then stops as he thinks better of whatever had been about to slip from his lips.

“He has given me his approval to marry you.” Thor assures you, a chuckle in his voice. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Steve has got his own plans. You are ours. And we aim to make you so in every way possible. Now, what do you say?”

He waits and when you say nothing, he pulls your hands up to kiss your knuckles.

“Will you marry me?” And he waits.

You catch your breath; the starling promise of forever with Thor before you. How can you say anything but, “Yes.”

Thor kisses you stupid. He kisses you until you can’t breathe and then he holds you tight.

The front door opens, a heavy click as it shuts. You hear his stomping feet before you see him as Thor seems unwilling to release you.

“Did you ask her?” Steve wonders, an excitement in his voice.

“I have. She’s said yes.” Thor replies gleefully.

He finally pulls back but only so that Steve can kiss you.

You use the opportunity to stare into his eyes. Searching for a true reaction in this make-believe happiness.

This has always felt like a dream on the vestiges of madness. Wishful thinking. A good dream you’ve trapped yourself in because the reality of your lonely life just isn’t enough.

Maybe you died? What if you were crushed in that rubble and the past three months with your boys has been a literal slice of heaven?

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m happy for you and Thor. I mean it.” He promises you, sincerity in his eyes but a small echo of that insecurity you’ve always had with Steve in particular reverberates in your mind.

It pulls dark thoughts forward that make you wonder if he’s happy that you’re marrying Thor because maybe he doesn’t want to marry you himself. What if Steve is grateful for the escape?

Does he not want you forever?

Did he use that wish on someone long ago?

His expression falls pained as he takes in the shift of your utter happiness to questioning apprehension.

“What is it?” He lowers himself down, squatting beside you and Thor as he holds your face between his large, calloused hands.

You don’t want to ruin this moment with Thor. You don’t want to make this about Steve when it should be about your future with Thor but…if you don’t speak it aloud, it’ll fester and bubble, then explode.

Fighting, real fighting where one person hurts the other, is not a part of your life with Steve and Thor. The three of you promised to talk everything through. This is complicated enough with three sets of desires, needs, and preferences. You don’t need to add lack of communication to that mess.

You lick your lips, chapped and dry from kissing Thor all day. Steve had been on mission and your day spent with Thor had been full of love making. They can’t seem to get enough of you…physically.

“I just…” You look at Thor and he’s smiling softly, not offended. Not sad. He gives you an encouraging nod.

You take his hand because you need his strength to speak the words out loud. What if Steve answers exactly as you’re expecting him to?

Thor gives your hand a squeeze. Reassuring you of his support.

“Are you happy about me and Thor because you-you don’t wanna marry me? Are you glad that he’s doing it so that you don’t have to?” Terror like this, even at the threat of bombs and bodily harm, has never existed for you.

Steve’s face relaxes, that boyish, half-smile lights up his face but only slightly assuages your fears.

“What? No. Of course I wanna marry you. You’re it for me, Y/N. Just like you are for Thor. I’m happy because we get to be happy forever. We get to keep you, forever. Together. I love you and I love Thor. Give me some time, baby and I’ll make you mine here on Earth too.” His words wash over you with a golden glory.

You’re warm and fuzzy with your boys here in front of you.

“Really?” You ask, elated.

“Yes.” Steve nods. “We’ll get you and Thor married first and I’ll find my time too. I’m not going anywhere. It’ll be me, you, and Thor until the very end.”

You kiss him, finally satisfied that Steve is in this for the long haul. Then you kiss Thor because you’re gonna marry him and you love them both so damn much.

Thor leaves you first.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He says, trying to cripple the utter agony you’re in.

You’re a mess. You’re in full on sobs as you cling to his chest plate with your weak and useless hands.

There is no strength in them to keep him here. Home. Where your husband belongs. You’ve been married for six months and this is the first time Thor is leaving you behind on Earth.

You’re terrified. What if something happens to him?

“I-I know you have to go.” You cry, pushing yourself up onto your toes to pull him down for another tight hug.

“I would not leave you if I did not have to. I will help win the war on Alfheim and when I come back, we will spend six days in bed and use the seventh to sleep.” He caresses the back of your head, using his words to try and comfort you but nothing will make this easier.

Nothing can ease your worries. It’s your job to worry as his wife.

“Wait for me, angel. I will return.” He whispers.

You pull back to stare into his eyes and give him the nod he needs. He pulls you to him, kissing you hard with his own startling urgency.

He’s worried about you too. Even if he knows you’re well looked after with Steve, being away from you isn’t easy and you realize this now.

He pulls back slowly, resting his forehead against your own until he must let you go.

“I love you.” He tells you as you back away slowly into Steve’s waiting arms.

“I love you.” You cry, tears still heavily streaming along your cheeks. “Please be safe for me, Thor.”

“I will.” He swears, his eyes move over you, above your head. “Take care of our girl, Steve. Keep her safe.”

“Always.” Steve assures him. “Come back soon, Thor. We’ll be waiting.”

That’s the first time Thor leaves you.

He comes back only a week later.

“You’re back!” You gush, leaping into his arms as he struts through your balcony doors.

He catches you and pulls your lips to his mouth. He groans as he kisses you, his bulge big and bursting.

The kiss quickly turns from relieving to lustful, all wet tongues and eager moans.

Steve stands, wide shoulders falling with relief at the sight of Thor back in one piece.

“You’re back so soon.” He says, an observance, not a complaint.

Thor pulls away from your kiss to speak as you continue to trail your own kisses along his jaw, hands wrapped in his long hair, tugging and pulling as you wrap your legs around his waist and grind down against him.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be to stay away. I’ll have to go back tonight but I needed my princess.” He says, his hands roaming the curve of your back as you rut your hips against his.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” Steve says.

Thor begins to move towards the hallway. His destination? The bedroom of course. It’s been a week. He doesn’t remember the last time he went a whole week without having you.

“I’ll go to the gym. Sam’s been eager to get some sparring in. Give you two some time.” Steve offers and makes to move around your favorite armchair to grab his workout bag from the guest bedroom.

As he passes close to Thor, Thor grabs the front of his shirt and then drags him along as he walks.

“No.” He says. “Together.”

Thor tosses you on the bed, and he loves the way you bounce. He peels off his armor as Steve strips beside him.

Two large, bulky men stand before you. Their gazes loving, their cocks erect.

“Strip my wife.” Thor tells Steve and though Steve is used to giving the orders, he obeys because he wants to see you.

Steve is second in only that he hasn’t married you yet. As he peels off your shirt and shorts, exposing your perked breasts for him and Thor, he slides his hand down the length of your folds, playing with the slick as he spreads and primes you.

You can see it in his eyes as he presses one finger inside of you, that soon he’ll remedy that fact. You won’t only be Thor’s wife for long.

They take you together, Steve gets your engines revved up then he slides up to your mouth where you take his length in one long lick. You suck the head of his cock then reach up to push his tush, urging him to thrust into your mouth.

Thor climbs between your legs and buries himself to the hilt in one smooth slow motion.

Though it isn’t the first time that you’ve had Steve and Thor at the same time, in Thor’s absence, it begins to mean more. To have them both with you is a blessing. One you hope to repeat many times over.

Steve understands that Thor is the only one that’ll feel the clench of your core today. After a week, Steve would want you all to himself too.

Thor comes undone in every position he can get you in. He fills you up over and over while Steve makes a mess of your chest and fills your mouth.

The three of you collapse in bed, spent. Steve makes to leave, as he usually does when the three of you have been together.

“No.” Thor says, an almost panic in his voice. “No. Don’t leave us.”

Steve stares at the God of Thunder, reading the need in his eyes before he settles back into bed behind you. He cuddles up close, holds you tight, while Thor rests his forehead against your own and kisses the tip of your nose.

He mutters, “My princess.” Until he falls asleep.

When you wake up, Thor is gone again. You cry. You turn into Steve’s chest and he holds you tighter as you sob.

“He’ll be back, baby. He’ll stay safe.”

Thor is gone for a long time. After a month, Steve surprises you.

At breakfast, he gets up from his seat across the table and drops down on one knee beside you. You’re not expecting it and it makes you cry.

“Don’t cry, baby. I know it’s been hard without Thor, but I want to make you mine too. Forever. I said I needed time and I think it’s been long enough. I can’t stand you not being my wife anymore.”

“Oh, Steve.” You sob, reaching up to fix your nest of a hairdo. You look terrible. Just woken up.

But Steve’s eyes are full of nothing but love as he reaches into his pocket to pull out a small blue box. He removes the top and holds out a white gold ring, solitaire, with a lone emerald cut diamond. You can tell by the sheen of the band that it’s vintage.

“Y/N? Will you marry me?”

“Of course, I will!” You gasp and throw yourself into his arms.

You and Steve get married at city hall. He wants to wait for Thor to come back before you have a real wedding and you’re grateful. As long as you’re his, that’s all that matters.

After your in-home honeymoon—because both you and Steve refuse to leave in case Thor comes back—Steve starts to take missions again.

He must. There’s no break for the criminals here on Earth and the world needs Captain America. You hate that he leaves you first for only a few hours but during the next month it becomes days. A week.

This time, three months since Thor left, Steve is gone for two weeks. You don’t know what goes on or why he’s gone so long but you know that it’s necessary.

You rush into his arms, cling to him as he walks through the door.

He’s exhausted. He kisses you.

“Too long, Steve.” You complain, sliding your hands through his freshly washed hair.

He always comes home clean for you though you kind of wish he’d come back in uniform. You know that he’s only trying to hide the extent of the danger he puts himself in.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” He wraps his left arm around you as he drops his bag by the door.

He’s got his shield in his right still and he plops it by your desk in the living room before hugging you with both arms now that they’re free. The way he cuddles into you, his tired sigh, burying his face into your neck, you know that he’s just dead on his feet.

“Let’s go get some sleep.” You whisper, sliding your fingers further into his hair to maybe nudge him towards unconsciousness.

Truth be told, you haven’t slept much either and all you want is to hold him and feel him there beside you.

You sleep for hours.

~~~~~

“How soon do we need to be there?” Steve can’t believe how fast they found the hideout.

It’s barely been twelve hours and he has to leave you again?

He turns to look at you, sitting in your armchair, a small lonely smile already stretching your lips. You must have heard him talking on the phone and wandered out to see what was happening.

You’re so quiet. So, understanding. Part of him wishes you’d throw a tantrum. Get really upset. You gentle whining at his absence doesn’t even begin to convey the depth of your solitude. He’s sure of it.

He knows how much you worry when he’s gone and how alone you can feel, especially with Thor still off world.

Turning back to the window he sighs, desperate to stay but duty calls.

“The sooner the better. Why? Am I interrupting?” Sam asks, careful in his tone because he knows how much Steve misses you when you’re not together.

“No. No, I just…hate to leave her so soon.” Steve confesses.

He’s already looking for his shield. He has a spare uniform in the jet. He can change on the way.

“I know, man. I’m sorry. We can go without you.” Sam offers and Steve almost accepts but his responsibilities to the innocents that are having their life threatened weight heavy on his shoulders.

His lonely wife weighs heavy on his heart.

He looks in the kitchen. By the desk where he usually puts it. Under the coffee table. And finally, in the dining room cabinet.

Nothing.

“No. No. I’m coming I just gotta find…Y/N? Baby, have you seen my shield?” Steve calls out as he shuts the cabinet.

“Yeah, it’s right here.” You tell him, voice sweet and soft.

He turns to look at you and nearly drops the phone as his jaw goes slack.

You stand at the mouth of the hallway, his shield held out in front of you, covering the sight of your clearly naked body.

“Steve?” Sam calls.

Your angelic smile shifts, turning devious and playful as you bite down on your lower lip. So beautiful. How long has it been since he’s seen that playful glimmer? Thor always brought that out in you more.

“Well?” You ask, “Aren’t you gonna come get it? Duty calls, right?”

Steve swallows hard, the stirring in his pants undeniable and unquenchable.

“Sam? I’m gonna have to sit this one out.”

“What’s wrong?” Sam wonders but Steve doesn’t care to answer as you spin his shield and give him the briefest of flashes of your naked right hip.

It’s a dizzying maneuver that sets his skin to burn. You know what you’re doing. Vixen.

“I gotta…gotta go. Be careful, Sam.” Steve murmurs.

He knows they’ll be safe. It’s a simple scouting mission.

You on the other hand, require hands on attention.

Steve struts towards you, mouth still hanging open at the seductive sight of you, fully exposed behind his red, white, and blue.

“Duty calls, Cap.” You remind him.

He reaches out and yanks the shield from your hands to look your naked body over. In the same move he wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you up, his lips crash against yours.

He moans into you, rolling your purr over his tongue as he drops his shield with a quickly silenced clatter and then takes you back to your room to perform his duty.

“I’m pregnant.” You gasp, staring down at the small white stick.

“What?!” Steve’s astounded voice comes in from the dining room.

You’re frozen, staring at the stick with shock. “I’m…I’m pregnant.”

You smile.

Steve barrels into the bathroom, his hands on your waist as he leans over your shoulder to look at the four different tests you’d taken.

You’d wanted to be sure. This is a big deal and you didn’t want to make any false exclamations.

“You’re pregnant.” Steve repeats, a startling amount of excitement and love in his voice.

“Is it-?” And you know what he’s wondering.

“I don’t know.” You sigh, sad suddenly at the possible daddy on the other side of the universe.

Steve turns you around, cups the sides of your face and leans down to kiss your lips softly. “We’ll go see a doctor tomorrow. We’ll find out.”

The next day, Steve sits beside you, a woman who looks too young to be a doctor slides over on her stool.

“Well, you’re gonna be parents.” She announces proudly.

“No, we know that.” You tell her. “When was the baby conceived?”

“Oh.” She seems surprised by the firm nature with which you’re addressing her, all happiness that usually comes from such an announcement absent.

You look at Steve and he gives you an encouraging smile as he takes your hand and squeezes it.

“It looks like, you’re about eighteen weeks gone.” She says, a smile on her lips again.

You run through the numbers as quickly as you can in your head.

“Eighteen weeks that…that’s four-four and a half months?” Your voice breaks at the last word, realizing with anguish that the baby is more than likely Thor’s.

“That’s about right.” She says, startled by the tears in your eyes.

“Steve…” You look for him and he’s not heartbroken at least. He’s not sad that the baby is probably not his.

He strokes your cheek and thumbs your tears away as they fall.

“This is good, right? Now we have a part of him here with us.” He explains, trying to spin this for the better but all you can think about is the fact that you haven’t heard from Thor in months and now you’ll be having his baby without him.

You sob and Steve pulls you close.

“I’ll give you two a moment.” The doctor says, completely confused.

When she’s gone, Steve pulls back to look into your eyes, instilling them with as much courage as he can.

“You’re going to be a mommy, Y/N. Thor’ll be back soon and we can celebrate. All three of us. Okay?” He asks gently.

“I miss him, so much.” You cry.

“I know, baby.” Steve sighs. “He’ll be back soon.”

The whistling of the air as he plummets to the ground fills him with such satisfaction.

His feet hit the slats of the balcony and the rainbow bridge melts around him as he walks to the sliding doors of his balcony. He opens them and slips inside.

“Hello?” He calls out, strong deep voice yearning for one particular pair of eyes, fit into an excruciatingly pretty face.

The storm blues are desired too. His partner in life along with his wife.

“Y/N?” Thor calls, searching desperately over the living room to see any signs of life.

There are a few dishes in the sink. Signs of lunch. A cup of tea left unfinished at the dining table. A pair of pants slung on your favorite armchair with a book you’ve been reading settled in against the back of the seat.

“Steve?” Thor calls.

“Thor?” Steve’s voice is like music. The deep timber of his voice, higher than normal at the glee he’s feeling.

He rounds the corner of the hallway and stops when he sees him.

The two men exchange a long look before Steve is crossing the room to pull him into a hug.

“You’re finally back.” Steve sighs, relieved. More than relieved. There’s something else there, but Thor can’t guess what it is. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

Thor hugs him back, holding him tightly as his homesickness is marginally quelled. Only one person can cure it completely.

He pulls back, holding Steve at arm’s length to look into his eyes. “Where is she? Where’s my wife?”

Steve smiles. “My wife too, actually.”

The surprise that Thor feels as Steve holds up his left hand to show off his wedding band passes quickly.

“We wanted to wait for you to have a real wedding. A big one with everyone but with you gone, we both needed to do it.” Steve looks as if he’s waiting for reproach for his decision to finally marry you.

Thor only feels grateful. He’s happy for you and for Steve. “I’m so glad you finally did it.”

He knows just how much you’ve been wanting Steve to marry you.

“Now our family is complete.” Thor sighs.

Steve’s smile tilts, turning boyish. It’s that grin he gets when he teases you or he tries to keep a secret hidden.

“Speaking of family…” But he’s cut off as a small gasp from the mouth of the hallway turns both their gaze.

Thor’s heart leaps into his throat as he meets your eyes. Those eyes that never left his dreams. Eyes that pulled him through every moment that nearly took him from you.

“Thor?” You gasp, your hand fluttering by your chest.

“I’m here, princess. I’m home.” Thor coos, so eager to have you in his arms that he begins to move around Steve but watches as your hand moves down to rest against your extended belly.

~~~~~

Thor’s smile vanishes. He moves to you with an awed, disbelief on his face. All you want is for him to hold you and kiss you and make love to you, but this must come first.

You caress your tummy once more, stroking the little life growing within you.

“Are you-?” Thor asks.

Silly question. You laugh. “Yes.”

You laugh again and maybe it’s more the sound of your laugh that pulls him out of his shock because his face breaks into a smile as you laugh, and he suddenly leans down to kiss you.

“Mmm.” He whispers, a delicious hunger quenched as he tastes your lips.

It’s a quick kiss because it’s obvious that he wants to keep looking at your tummy.

He looks around and sees Steve already sitting on the far end of the couch. He steers you that way and sits you between them but turns you so that you’re facing him.

Steve sidles up behind you until your back is resting against his chest. He kisses the side of your head.

“Can I?” He asks, curious and eager to get a look at your belly.

“Of course.” You tell him and pull your t-shirt up so that he can look at your growing baby.

“Is it okay if I-?” He gestures with his hands, wanting to touch.

“Yes, Thor! Of course, you can.” You assure him, suddenly realizing that he doesn’t know. Of course, he doesn’t. How can he know? You haven’t told him. “This is your baby.”

“Mine?” He asks, surprised again as his hands rest on the sides of your belly.

You nod.

“We had the baby tested with a few of your samples that Bruce had in his lab. Y/N needed to know, and we were both hoping that the baby was yours.” Steve is so supportive. He’s so great.

You love him and you love Thor and, fuck! You’re crying again.

“Why are you crying?” Thor asks, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

“I cry all the damn time now.” You growl, then laugh.

Your laugh gets Steve to kiss your head again and Thor smiles wide.

“My baby.” He whispers, leaning down to press his lips to your bump.

“Our baby.” You add.

“Our baby.” Thor repeats, looking up at you then at Steve. “Our family.”

“Niki put your brother down.” You sigh, fumbling with the two large plates of waffles.

“Daddy says I pick up my bwudder. To halp mommy.” Niklas counters, his golden blonde hair is only slightly darker than your second baby’s.

Niklas has all his father’s strength, charm, and electric blue eyes. Stevie’s are storm blue.

“Not all the time, honey. Stevie is fine right now. Put him back in his highchair so that I can give you two breakfast. Or did you change your mind? Do you not want waffles for breakfast?” You stop beside the end of the table and wait for Niklas to put Stevie back in his seat.

“No mommy, I want da waffos.” He insists and hurries around to his own booster seat.

He climbs in and settles himself in it then reaches out to grab the table and literally drag himself closer to it.

He’s so strong.

Stevie giggles and babbles in his toddler speak. Drooling a little as he stares at his brother who you can already see is his hero.

Suddenly he screams loudly, yelling something at Niklas that you don’t understand because he’s not actually saying anything.

“Goodness, gracious, you’re both so talkative this morning.” You place Niklas’s waffles before him and drizzle them with syrup before you move over to Stevie, refasten the restraint around his waist and scoot him in towards the table.

You cut up his waffle into small tiny pieces big enough for him to grab but not choke on.

“Dank you, mommy.” Niklas whispers for some reason, then goes to cutting his waffle with his little fork.

You watch them eat for a moment, making sure they’re okay before hurrying back into the kitchen to bring them their sippy cups with milk.

Somewhere in between you pouring their milk and closing their cups, Niklas is on the table, laughing as Stevie screams again in that babbling high pitched instruction that only Niklas understands.

“Niki, get off of the table!” You gasp, and hurry back to the dining room with both cups still unsealed.

“Stevie wants me to dance, mommy! Wet me dance.” Niklas pleads and begins to swing his arms around enthusiastically to the music only he and his brother seem to hear.

Stevie is all giggles and excitement as he fists his waffle and throws the pieces at his brother.

“Baby, no.” You put the cups down and hurry to Stevie to stop his little hands from chucking his food.

A clatter pulls your gaze up to Niklas and you see spilled milk running down along the wooden table towards him and onto the floor.

You hurry to press a nearby towel against the wet as Niklas picks up his own waffle and proceeds to throw small pieces at Stevie, making him sticky with the syrup you’d drizzled.

“Niki, no.” You sigh, defeated because there’s no way you’re winning against these two.

You’re torn between stopping the flow of milk or grabbing Niki and putting him back on the floor.

Luckily, you’re save the choice as two large sun-kissed arms wrap themselves around Niki’s little torso.

He giggles as Thor growls at him, peppering his cheeks and neck with quick, scruffy kisses.

“What kind of terror are you causing your mother?” Thor asks, playfully, lovingly.

You sit down, relieved to see him and completely giving up on the milk. It goes everywhere.

Stevie is still screaming excitedly at the sight of Thor who rushes to the toddler and with a skilled hand, unbinds him and lifts him up into his other arm.

You stare at the three of them, exhausted but so happy. They’re your boys. Your babies. Your life.

“Look. Look at what you’ve done.” Thor asserts. “Niklas, look at the mess you’ve made for your mother. You too, Steven.”

Stevie smacks Thor’s cheeks as he babbles some more, while Niki actually assesses the damage.

He seems to realize that he’s really gone and done something bad because he looks chastised at first then his little lip quivers.

“I’m sowwy, mommy.” He cries and it just about breaks your heart.

You get up and move to him, wiping at his cheeks where he’s gone and splashed some milk.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay. But what have we talked about? What do we do at the table?”

“We sit.” He remembers, then looks up at Thor when he doesn’t seem to remember the second part.

Thor helps him cheat and he leans down to whisper into his ear as Stevie continues to pull on his beard and ear.

“And we eat aww food. We don’t pway wif it.” Niklas recites.

“That’s my good boy.” You tell him, fixing his little blue t-shirt as he relaxes and smiles.

“I’m sorry we were gone so long. We had every intention of being back before the boys woke up but-” Thor is already trying to explain his tardiness, to make up for the mess you now have to deal with.

“It’s okay Thor.” You understand how their job works. “They were fine up until five minutes ago.”

“Still. I’ll clean it up.” He offers.

“While they wreak havoc in another room?” You smile.

“Then, I’ll take them out to the park. Give you a few hours alone.” He counters.

That sounds extremely tempting.

Despite your anxiety from being away from your babies, you know they’ll be safe with Thor and you’re desperate to give the dining room a good clean now.

“How about two hours? Just enough time for me to clean this up and take a shower.” You slip your hand up along Thor’s side, then get distracted by Stevie’s little leg and hold that instead.

“Deal.” Thor agrees, then leans down towards you to meet your lips.

You kiss him, eager for the affection and Niklas giggles while Stevie’s little hand slides into your hair.

You catch his hand and kiss his little palm before leaning up to give Thor another kiss.

“Time for some adventuring, I think, my sons. What do you say?” Thor asks your boys.

Niklas gives a great shout of, “Yeah!” Accompanied by a small fist pump while Stevie simply screams in excitement.

You watch them until they’re out the door but as they pass, Steve slips in kissing Stevie’s cheek as he gives Niklas’s head a caress.

“-the park a few blocks down.” Thor says, informing Steve of his destination.

“If you need help, call me.” Steve offers.

“I am dad extraordinaire.” Thor brags. “Help?”

He laughs animatedly, all to make the boys laugh which they do.

Steve shuts the door as their beautiful giggles fade into the distant hallway.

“Oh, man.” Steve sighs, as he crosses into the dining room. “Niklas?”

“Egged on by Stevie.” You grab the soaked milk towel and try to push as much of the liquid back towards the center of the table so that it doesn’t keep spilling onto the floor.

Steve chuckles. “Next one will be calmer. I promise.”

“Next one?!” You turn to look at him, startled and laughing.

“What?” He asks, sliding over to you slowly as you try and back away.

With the table right behind you, you don’t get far. Steve’s hands are on your hips as you hold your milk dripping hands up and to the sides.

“You asked me for babies, remember? I’ve only given you one.” His stupid smile is seductive, his blue eyes piercing.

That look, that ownership you’d seen when he’d first made love to you, it heats you up. You are his. You know that. His and Thor’s.

“I wasn’t thinking straight.” You deadpan. “One is enough.”

Steve huffs a laugh, his hands sliding up into your shirt to trail circles against your skin.

“Come on, baby. I want a girl.”

“Then you have it.” You challenge.

He dips his head down to your neck and traces long slow circles with his tongue.

Your eyes shut, you sigh, your core clenching and searching for filling.

“Steve…” You plead.

“I’ll take less missions.” He whispers against your throat as his hand slides down into the waistband of your jeans.

He forces them down, exposing your bottom as he grabs it tight and shakes your dripping folds by proxy.

“Liar.” You accuse.

“I will.” He pulls back and look into your eyes, licking his lips as he takes his hand out of your pants.

He rests them on your waist and nods.

“I-I’ve been thinking about retiring.” He admits. “Sam’s pretty familiar with the way things go and Thor will probably still be there for them if they need him and I’m not saying I’ll drop out completely, but this life with you. This is what I’ve been looking for, Y/N.”

He means it. He’s really going to retire and help you raise your babies?

“You’re just trying to get into my pants.” You quip.

Steve smiles and nods. “Damn straight.”

He slumps down to wrap his arms around your waist and lift you up as his lips move against yours.

He turns and heads for the bedroom and you wrap your arms around him, milky hands be damned.

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[safflowerseason]

some dan x amy musings

In response to a question from @wecouldstillbegreat...what is Dan and Amy’s relationship to physical touch/physical intimacy?

This is such a good question…although it was kind of hard to answer, because it’s so easy to blur the boundary between the show and fanfiction!

It’s an especially interesting question too, in light of the fact that Veep is not a particularly “touchy-feely” kind of show, and physical touch and physical intimacy are so often manipulated or twisted by the various characters. Selina and Tom’s relationship is a good example of this…both of them attempt to use their physical attraction to ruin one another. Or Selina and Andrew…Andrew constantly takes advantage of Selina by sleeping with her, and even Selina herself is somewhat aware that her physical attraction to Andrew is constantly getting her into trouble.

Dan and Amy’s relationship stands out on Veep because when they touch one another (or when they aren’t touching but want to), the physical dimension of their relationship is generally framed to emphasize the “purity” of their emotional connection, if that makes sense. Dan and Amy are terrible people, but they are two terrible people who have a genuine emotional connection to one another that the show isn’t interested in twisting (at least during the Iannucci years). Whether or not Dan and Amy are aware of it, touch for them is a fundamentally good thing. 

In S1, Dan touches Amy in a very “unconscious boyfriend” kind of a way—a hand on her back, an arm over her shoulder, etc. This is also the season where their relationship is played the most “romantically.” I’m assuming the acting choices for both Reid Scott and Anna Chlumsky derived from this tonal approach.

(Sidenote: in spite of my earlier statement that touch is broadly framed as a “good” thing for Dan and Amy…I have to include a caveat here. The frequency with which Dan touches Amy in S1 is quite startling, considering they are not dating and Amy is especially distrustful of Dan during this period of their relationship. As an audience, we’ve been generally socialized to accept his behavior because their relationship has been coded as romantic…Dan and Amy are attracted to one another and thus it’s “fine” for Dan to always be touching her in these small ways…but it’s really not cool. (It makes you wonder if RS would have made the same acting choices in a post Me-Too world.) Of course, for what it’s worth, Anna Chlumsky also never plays Amy in S1 as physically uncomfortable when Dan is touching her in this way, a choice which broadly shapes the audience’s reaction to Dan as well. The fact that they are in a “romance” excuses a lot of behavior that we might not look at so indulgently now.)

In S2-S4, this dimension of their relationship drops off—they are close, constantly in one another’s space, arms brushing, etc, but Dan’s not draping his arm around her on the couch after he’s gotten her to agree to a suicide pact. It’s impossible to know what the actors and the writers discussed, but subconsciously or otherwise, this change seems to reflect the broader tonal shift from S1 to the more subtle “Machiavellian work spouses” dynamic of the later Iannucci seasons.

During S2 and S4, Dan mostly touches Amy when she’s extremely emotionally fired up. The two big moments that come to mind is in 2.08 during Selina’s interview and 4.08, when she’s so desperate to deliver Pierce to Selina she’s about to blow their cover. This speaks to their intimacy in a different way, I think—that Dan feels enough of an emotional connection to Amy to reach for her when she’s furious, but also that Amy finds his touch emotionally soothing (whether or not she realizes it). In 2.08, Amy would be perfectly justified at flinging Dan’s hand off of her, of jerking her body away from him—he’s incredibly smug and condescending to her—but she doesn’t. That’s significant. 

Even in S3, when Dan and Amy are basically in an episodes-long fight over Dan’s promotion as campaign manager…Amy is the one who Dan leans on when he has his panic attack, and she willing assists him out of the room, minutes after she’s sabotaged him. (We barely see this happen, though, and I can see why they might not have wanted to show it, because the imagery would be beyond unsubtle and probably felt a bit serious for the moment…it’s funnier and lighter to have Dan freaking out in the cab and thoughtlessly running a hand down her face.) 

There are not very many of these moments, but analyzed collectively, they obviously emphasize that Dan and Amy’s relationship is, well, different than Amy’s with Mike or Dan’s with Selina. They certainly stand out in a show that’s about how cutthroat and corrupt politics can be. And not to get all fluffy about it, but it makes me think of when Reid Scott called Anna Chlumksy “partner” in that behind the scenes video. They are partners, and the fact that Dan feels comfortable enough with Amy to literally grab her when she’s about to charge into the West Wing matters very much.

Then of course, 5.02 happens and Dan and Amy are emotionally estranged for the rest of the series, basically. They don’t touch at all onscreen in S5 or S6…and I’m not going to analyze S7 because it depresses me, and because I’ve already pointed out similarities between Ep. 7.03 and Ep. 2.08 in how Dan deals with Amy. 

It’s also worth pointing out that the significance of the moments in which Dan and Amy are specifically not touching one another but clearly want to, and the lack of touch between the brings their physical chemistry into intense focus. The bar scene in 4.04, for example…or the other bar scene in 5.02, not mention the scene in the hotel corridor. In those moments, Dan and Amy are at the very edge of giving in to their physical desire for one another—they’re not touching because if they did, they might not stop. And even though we don’t see them hook up in 6.09, their reactions to that night clearly indicate that they both had a fantastic time. Turns out touching in all the ways is just as much as fun as bantering in dive bars. (Even Dan’s “yeah, yeah, we had a lot of drinks that night…” response to Amy at the very end of 6.10 has a kind of…coy intrigue to it. He knows that it was a good night, and he clearly wants to repeat the experience, while also, obviously, not wanting to come right out and say so. If it sucked, he just would have been like “Ugh, don’t remind me” à la S7 Dan.)

Anyway, so what does all this actually mean? On a super basic level, we can generally infer that Dan seems to be a pretty touchy-feely kind of guy (or at least Amy brings it out in him). That doesn’t mean he’s super cuddly or into PDAs, but touch is an important emotional conduit for him (his love language, for lack of a better word, although both Dan and Amy would hate that phrase). And Amy, who broadly does not like being touched by other people and has never been in a satisfying sexual relationship, likes it when Dan touches her (this is largely tied, I think, to the fact that Dan is the only person in the show around whom Amy can act like herself). And when they do finally give into their desire for one another, it is a very heady experience for both of them that they’re eager to repeat. At the very least, I would argue that canon takes us that far. 

As for what these characteristics look like in a real relationship…well, the show never takes us there, so it’s up to one’s own interpretation of Dan and Amy’s relationship. Obviously, fanfic writers (including myself) have broadly extrapolated all this into stories that explore such a relationship and where physical touch becomes a somewhat central feature of their relationship. Often in these fics, sex and other forms of physical intimacy represent a way for Dan and Amy to communicate their feelings without actually having to express them verbally (their least favorite thing). We never see it in the show, but it’s nice to imagine—and most fanfic writers have—that in a real relationship, Amy does things like lean her head against Dan’s shoulder or kisses him just because she wants to. In fanfiction, these kinds of small moments illustrate to the reader that Amy fully trusts Dan (or is trying to). 

Just to pull an example from my own work…in BMTL, Dan and Amy have been “together” for roughly four years, and they’ve had a kid together for five and a half years. One way I’ve tried to demonstrate the (relative) longevity of their relationship is through physical touch. They play-wrestle, she falls asleep with her head in his lap, Dan is so tired in Chapter 3 he almost falls asleep in Amy’s lap while she runs her fingers through his hair…these moments just felt, to me, really natural to write in a fic where Dan and Amy are an established couple, not to mention how frequently Dan has held Amy in his arms, in the moments where she’s actively grieving her dad (and he’s not making it about him). 

Well, answering ask somehow turned into a novel, so I’ll stop here! Needless to say, it’s a very rich topic! 

#veep #dan x amy #dan egan #amy brookheimer

[axiumin]

Wish | JB x Reader

Read part two here!

I posted this for a minute a few weeks ago, but I quickly took it down to make some revisions. So, here it is, back again! This is inspired by an ask from a lovely anon who asked me to continue to explore Hanahaki AUs with other members of GOT7. You can find my other Hanahaki AU, Flower Language, here!

As you screwed your eyes shut and blew on the dandelion, you thought to yourself, ‘I wish he’ll always smile like that.’

Pairing: JB x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hanahaki disease!AU

Words: 4.8k

Childish laughter rang through the field as you tore through the grass in hot pursuit of Jaebum. The wind whipped past your ears and you pumped your little legs faster, steadily closing the gap until your grasping fingers finally caught a hold of his arm. A sudden jerk sent you tumbling into the grass in a breathless, giggling pile. 

“Caught you!” you crowed, popping your head up to look victoriously upon the loser. 

Jaebum rolled his eyes and sat up. “Yeah, yeah,” he panted. “Don’t go getting too cocky— I got you last time.”

You huffed. “But that was last time. And this time, I’m the winner.” You puffed your chest out in pride.

Jaebum pouted at you, and you managed two seconds of eye contact before both of you broke out into giggles again. 

“Okay, okay,” he said between giggles. “Here.” He plucked something from the grass and held it out to you. “A prize for the winner.” 

You scrunched your nose and took the dandelion from him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You make a wish, duh,” he said, matter-of-fact.

You eyed the plant dubiously. “How’s that supposed to work?”

“What, haven’t you ever made a wish before?” Jaebum looked at you incredulously, and you suddenly felt a bit defensive. 

“Well, of course I’ve made wishes before,” you sniffed. “But what does a weed have to do with making wishes?”

“I’ll show you!” Jaebum plucked another dandelion from the grass. “First, you gotta think of a wish. Then, you gotta blow on it.” He eyed it, and after a moment’s consideration, he scrunched his eyes shut and blew hard, sending the fuzzy seedheads flying. You watched with delight as they fluttered in the air as if dancing, carried away by the breeze. 

“What did you wish for?” you asked. 

“That’s the thing,” Jaebum said. “You can’t tell anyone, or else the wish doesn’t come true.”

You frowned thoughtfully. “That’s kind of lame. Why can’t you tell people what you wish for?”

“That’s just the rules.” Jaebum rolled his eyes, but grinned at you, bright and excited. “Now it’s your turn! Give it a try.”

You eyed the dandelion. The stem was a bit crooked from where your fingers pinched it too tightly, and the light breeze had already loosened some of the seedheads. It sure didn’t look like something that could grant wishes. 

But then you thought about how the dandelion fluff looked when it flew in the air, and you thought about the way Jaebum smiled at you, happy and assured, after he made his wish. 

As you screwed your eyes shut and blew on the dandelion, you thought to yourself, I wish he’ll always smile like that.

-

There was definitely something up. 

Jaebum was many things: childhood best friend, talented songwriter, all-around great guy. But one thing that he usually wasn’t was as giddy as a schoolgirl. And he’d been fidgeting and failing horribly to stifle a big, goofy smile all afternoon. 

Finally, you relented, setting down your coffee with a sigh. “Okay, spill.”

Jaebum raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Spill? On what?” he tried. 

One unamused look from you had him dropping his innocent act. He sighed and pushed his coffee aside, resting his hands on the table in front of him. His fingers fidgeted there for a moment before he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket. You could still see them moving through the fabric. 

“I’m seeing someone,” he said suddenly. 

You spluttered as you choked on nothing. 

Jaebum looked unimpressed as you pressed a hand to your sternum and coughed. “That surprising?” he asked. 

You shook your head as you caught your breath. “No, no! Of course not.” At his unconvinced look, you added, “Well, kind of. It’s just— so sudden?”

Honestly, you spent so much time with Jaebum that it was hard to imagine that he’d managed to start seeing someone without you noticing. Between that and the fact that the last time he’d had a crush on someone, he’d ended up peacocking so obviously in front of her that he embarrassed himself and everyone within a three-mile radius? Yeah, you were a bit surprised. 

But at the same time, it really wasn’t surprising. Jaebum was a great person and would make an incredible boyfriend. You knew it was only a matter of time until he found someone he wanted to be in a relationship with. If you were being honest with yourself, it was less surprise that caught you off guard and more dismay. 

You quickly decided you didn’t want to be honest with yourself today. 

Jaebum shrugged. “I guess it is kind of sudden. But it almost doesn’t feel like it, you know? It’s like, I just met her, but it’s almost as if we’ve known each other for years. She’s just…” he trailed off, trying and failing to find the words to describe her. 

You didn’t need words to know how he felt, though. You watched him thoughtfully as he talked. His eyes were bright, his cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t fight off his grin. Maybe he couldn’t find words, but that was only because he was thinking too many good words about her to just single out the best ones. 

You felt strangely detached from the moment, and as you swallowed past a lump in your throat, you thought about dandelions, wishes, and a lifetime of friendship. 

I hope he’ll always smile like that, you wished again, bittersweet, and plastered on a wide smile for him. 

“So, how did you two meet?” you asked.

-

You never realized how accustomed you’d grown to always being the first person Jaebum talked to until you suddenly weren’t. 

These days, it felt like you were always a bit behind in conversations with him. He would refer back to things he never mentioned before, and when he realized his mistake, he would smile apologetically and say, “Oh, sorry, I thought I told you. Must have been someone else.”

Who the someone else was went without saying. 

It put you strangely off-balance, missing the way you two had always so effortlessly flowed. But honestly, small conversational hiccups like that weren’t even that big of a problem— at least, not compared to the silence. Now, when you texted him, there was an uncharacteristic delay before he replied— if he replied at all. 

“It’s not you,” he explained, the next time you met up for lunch. It was the first time you’d seen each other in weeks, and you tried not to let that bother you. “It’s just that I don’t like to check my phone when I’m with her, you know?” 

He was sincere and apologetic, and you waved off the explanation with a flick of your hand and a wry smile. 

“Don’t worry about it. I know how it is,” you said. 

And you did, really. But it still felt somehow lonely knowing that you weren’t his first choice anymore. For so many years, you’d been his closest confidant, and you’d naïvely assumed it would always be this way. 

It was understandable for things to change once he started seeing someone. You knew that he still cared for you, still cherished your friendship. He just had other priorities now, and you told yourself that you would feel the same if you were in a relationship. You completely understood that you weren’t going to be Jaebum’s top priority forever. It’s just that it would take some getting used to.

You just hoped you’d get used to it sooner rather than later. 

Jaebum didn’t press the topic further, but you could tell from the grim line of his lips that he wasn’t quite satisfied with your response. He looked worried and a bit flustered, and, upon closer inspection, you realized that he may have actually been coming down sick. You’d initially chalked his fidgetiness up to a side effect of the awkwardness, but he kept clearing his throat and occasionally rubbing at his chest. 

You tsked. “You haven’t been overworking yourself, have you?”

Jaebum’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?”

“You look like you’re coming down sick.”

You leaned across the table to press the back of your hand against his forehead, sighing when you felt the heat coming off of his skin. Before you could begin to chide him about taking better care of himself, Jaebum flinched away and carefully batted your hand away from him. You froze, mouth open in a small ‘o’. Jaebum didn’t look at you. 

Of course, you knew that things were different between you two. But this was the clearest, most unavoidable sign that things had truly, intrinsically changed. You looked down at your hand. Your fingers still burned where they’d touched him, and your face burned in shame. The air was heavy with awkwardness, and your stomach sank as if filled with lead. 

You swallowed and forced a smile. “Well, I guess there’s that cold going around, right? Just be careful to take better care of yourself.”

The tense line of Jaebum’s shoulders relaxed infinitesimally. “Yeah,” he said, nodding agreeably. “It’s probably just a cold. I’ll be more careful.”

He smiled back at you, just as forced, and it was like you could physically feel the distance widen between you two. Lunch, blessedly, was cut short when you both needed to go back to work. But for the rest of the day, you could think of nothing but the way he flinched away from your touch and the heavy awkwardness that hung in the air after. 

Where there was once warmth and intimacy, now you were just left feeling cold. 

-

You could lie and pretend that you were busy enough with work and your daily responsibilities that you didn’t notice it, but there really was no ignoring the Jaebum-shaped hole in your life. 

Your phone lay beside you, undisturbed by notifications from him; your apartment felt strangely sterile and unlived-in now that he wasn’t around to fill it with life; you laughed at amusing and interesting things, only for your smile to dim when you instinctively turned to share it with him and remembered that he wasn’t there. 

You considered reaching out to him, bridging the gap that was slowly growing between you, but when you saw social media updates from him, images of them together, bright and happy and smiling so freely, you realized that he didn’t miss you like you missed him. You looked at his latest instagram post, stared at the crinkle of his eyes and the bright flash of teeth as he smiled. It was so at odds with the way he looked at you when you last met, expression pinched with guilt and concern. Frowning didn’t suit him, and you didn’t want to be the one to put a frown on his face again. 

Sighing, you deleted your half-typed comment and set aside your phone. 

-

You thought that throwing yourself headfirst into your work could distract you from your mopiness, but perhaps you’d pushed yourself too hard. You knew you were coming down sick when you first felt the tell-tale scratchiness at the back of your throat, but you just popped a cough drop and moved on in the hopes that you’d just get over it. You didn’t think you could handle having to take a sick day off from work, not when it meant sitting alone in your empty apartment and waiting for a phone call you wouldn’t receive. 

Unfortunately, your office wasn’t as fast-paced as you sometimes hoped it would be. Sitting at your desk, just waiting for an assignment, was almost as painful as sitting alone at home. That meant that the moment a task was sent your way, you were on it— even if it was something as small as grabbing a box of stationery from the supply closet. 

Though, perhaps you could concede that fetching stationery was only easy when said stationery didn’t come in a twenty-pound box set on the highest shelf in the closet. You had managed to start easing it off the shelf, but it was still uncomfortably out of reach, and with only your fingertips preventing the heavy box from falling on your head, things were feeling a bit precarious.  

“Easy there,” you heard. A pair of hands reached up to help stabilize the box, and together, you and the newcomer managed to pull down the box— and a sizeable cloud of dust along with it. The two of you spluttered and coughed, and you squinted through the cloud to see that it was your desk neighbor suffering with you. 

“Jeez, don’t they ever dust in here?” she griped. She smacked her lips together and grimaced. “Ugh, it’s gritty. Let’s get out of here.”

She helped you carry the box over to your desk, and she frowned when it thumped onto the surface and sent another little dust cloud up. 

“Gross,” she muttered.

You eyed her curiously. “Not that I don’t appreciate the help, but what were you doing in the closet?” you asked. 

She raised an eyebrow at you. “What were you doing there?” she countered. You made to gesture at the box, but she waved a dismissive hand. “I mean, yeah, I know what you were literally doing, but that’s not what I meant. I mean, what’s gotten into you lately?”

You frowned. “What do you mean what’s gotten into me?”

“It’s one thing if you want to get ahead on your projects, either to make things easier for you for a while or to try to get ready for vacation or whatever. But to burn through all of your projects, then jump at literally any chance to do something, even if it’s just getting something from supply? It’s a bit much.”

You sighed and fell heavily into your desk chair, suddenly feeling tired. Your throat was starting to feel scratchy again, too. Great. “It’s no big deal. I just want to get some work done.”

She scoffed. “There’s a difference between wanting to get work done and suddenly turning into a workaholic.” She eyed you, her gaze softening. “I’ve never seen you act like this before. Is something going on?”

You busied yourself looking for another cough drop, if only so you wouldn’t have to look at her. “Nothing’s going on.”

She looked skeptical. “Well, even if there isn’t now, you’re going to end up making yourself sick if you don’t chill.”

“Look—” you paused to cough lightly, trying to ease the scratchiness of your throat, but it just felt worse. “It’s not that…” You trailed off, caught off guard by another cough. 

“See?” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I told you that you were going to make yourself sick.”

You tried to wave her off. 

“It feels—” your were interrupted again by another sharp cough. Your eyes watered as you reached for your water bottle. “It feels like I’m choking on something,” you croaked. 

“Ah, maybe it was all that dust in the closet? Inhaling all of that can’t be good for you,” your coworker remarked, patting you gently on the back. “Just go on and get it all out.”

The need to cough was overwhelming, and you couldn’t have resisted if you tried. You coughed violently, hunching over and bracing a clammy palm against your desk. It felt as if you would cough you entire lungs up, and you wanted to cry out for help, but you couldn’t find the breath for it. 

When the coughing fit finally passed, you gasped raggedly and stared in dismay at the dandelion seedheads that littered your desk, speckled with saliva and blood. 

“Oh.” You slowly looked up and met the wide, horrified eyes of your coworker. “I think you need to get that checked out,” she said slowly. 

-

When your apartment door closed behind you that evening, you slumped heavily on the couch and looked at the pamphlet the clinic sent home with you. The paper was a bit wilted from where you’d squeezed the life out of it with your sweat-damp hand, but the print was still perfectly legible: Living With Hanahaki Disease. The pamphlet cover showed the bright, smiling faces of typical stock-photo models. They were posing— perhaps a bit tastelessly— in a flower garden.

Sighing heavily, you flipped the pamphlet open and looked at the first page. 

Living with Hanahaki disease poses many unique challenges. Unlike many other diseases, Hanahaki disease bears a unique relationship with the patient’s emotional wellbeing. 

Scientists were still trying to figure out how, exactly, Hanahaki disease worked. It’d been around for ages, though it was rare enough to chalk it up to folklore most of the time. Millions of people experienced unrequited love every day, but somehow you were one of the select few to get flowers growing in your lungs because of it. 

Not flowers, you thought to yourself bitterly. Weeds. 

The worst part of it all was that you couldn’t even feign ignorance over how it happened to you. There was only one person in the world who could make dandelions grow in your lungs, and he hadn’t even had the good grace to return your texts for the last three days. 

Sighing glumly, you skimmed through the pamphlet a bit, glossing over the bits that repeated empty platitudes or descriptions of symptom progression (coughing, more coughing, and eventual asphyxiation— love that). The very short section on treatment options caught your eye. 

Hanahaki disease currently has two known treatments. The first is for the patient to receive love in return from the person for whom they hold affections. Studies have found that as the previously unrequited love becomes requited, the flowers obstructing the patient’s respiratory system wither and are easily removed through coughing. It should be noted, however, that familial or platonic love does not seem to reverse the effects of Hanahaki disease. 

The second treatment option is the surgical removal of the flowers. The surgery permanently removes the flowers from the patient’s respiratory system. However, many recipients of the surgery note that they also stop experiencing the love that induced their illness.

You set the pamphlet aside and let your head fall back against the couch cushion. The obvious answer— the only answer, if you were being honest— was the surgery. Get it done and over with, remove the pesky feelings that never had any real chance of being returned, and get back to life as normal. 

But that’s the thing. What was life as normal? If there was one thing you’d learned from being ghosted by Jaebum, it was how encompassingly and enduringly you cared for him. It colored your life for as long as you remembered. Sure, you hadn’t realized you loved him until you’d started coughing up flowers, but what would happen if you had them removed? When the feelings were gone, what would happen to your friendship with the most wonderful and frustrating person you’d ever met?

Surgery was the reasonable solution. What a shame that you weren’t a reasonable person.

-

By the time morning came, you had decided quite firmly that Jaebum could never know about your condition. It probably wouldn’t even be that hard to hite it, considering you barely saw him anymore, you mused. So naturally, as fate would have it, your phone lit up with a phone call from him— the first in over a week. You hesitated only long enough to curse your luck before you cleared your throat and answered. 

“Hey,” he said, sounding almost hesitant. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great,” you said. You cursed mentally when you realized how rough your voice was from a night of coughing, and you hoped Jaebum wouldn’t hear it.

“Did I wake you up? Your voice sounds a bit raspy.” 

Shit, you cursed again and cleared your throat. “Oh. No, you’re good. I’m just... coming down with a bit of a cold.”

Jaebum let out a huff that turned to static over the line. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately, haven’t you?” he said knowingly. 

You scoffed. “As if you’re one to talk. Didn’t you just have a cold a couple of weeks ago?”

There was a strange pause before he replied with a rather clipped, “I’m fine.” 

You thought of the cagey way he acted around you when you pointed out his cold before and decided not to push the topic. 

“In any case, honestly, I’ll be fine. I have some time off—” you weren’t really given a choice on that matter once news of your coughing fit spread through the office— “so I’m just going to rest at home. Drink fluids, take naps, all that fun stuff.”

“Good,” Jaebum said, and you could perfectly imagine the way he must have been nodding in approval. “Just stay on the couch or something. I’ll be over soon.”

You spluttered, feeling your heart lurch into doubletime. “Wait- what? Why?”

He paused for a beat before sighing. “Look, I know I haven’t been the best friend lately. But… I do care. I should be there for you, to help make sure you get better.” He cleared his throat. “Plus, I mean, we haven’t really had much time together lately, so maybe I can start to make up for it?”

He sounded abashed and a bit awkward, and you squeezed your eyes shut, frustrated that your friendship had ever been allowed to sour this much. You took a slow, measured breath through your nose and opened your eyes. 

“I’ll see you soon,” you said simply. You pretended you didn’t hear his relieved sigh. 

-

You ignored the painful way your heart clenched when you opened your door to see Jaebum, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt and wielding a bag of takeout. He stepped inside, swept you into a hug with his free arm, and proceeded to waltz right into your home as if he never left in the first place. You trailed after him, clutching your blanket tighter around your shoulders and mentally reassuring yourself that your face was only warm from your illness. 

You didn’t remember reading anything about fever being a symptom of Hanahaki disease, but that was beside the point. 

“I went by that place with the soup you like,” he said as he made his way to the kitchen. “Picked some up, thought I’d save us the hassle of trying to cook.”

His eyes flicked up to look at your carefully, and you noticed that his movements were somewhat stilted, as if he were trying hard to be casual. Even more, under the kitchen lights, you noticed that he seemed strangely pale and drawn. You thought back to your phone conversation and wondered how truthful he’d been about getting over his sickness. Leave it to Jaebum to try to tough it out and take care of you even when you were both feeling under the weather. You sighed.

“Any ‘cooking’ would have just been heating up a can of soup,” you snarked, though it was half-hearted. You couldn’t really find it in you to properly protest when he took the lid of the styrofoam cup and you saw the steam spiraling up from it. 

Jaebum glanced at you and smirked when he saw the way you eyed the soup. 

“I mean, if that’s what you want, I can always just do that instead,” he teased. He made to put the lid back on the container, but you lightly smacked his hand away and leveled him with a glare. 

“Don’t you dare.”

He snickered. “Then stop complaining and get some bowls.”

Within minutes, the two of you were arranged on the couch, carefully balancing your respective bowls of soup. You noticed that Jaebum had given you the fuller bowl, and he fussed with the blankets more than strictly necessary as he made sure you were properly tucked in. You looked down to hide a smile. It felt good to have him care for you, even in small ways like this. 

“What do you want to watch?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “Why don’t you pick?”

You raised your eyebrows at him; Jaebum always had an opinion on what you watched. He noticed your incredulous look and fidgeted, looking somewhat abashed. 

“I mean, you’re sick, right? Shouldn’t I be extra nice to you today?” It was a flimsy excuse, but you decided to just accept it. The alternative would be talking about why, exactly, Jaebum seemed to feel guilty, and you figured you already had an idea. Besides, you had no desire to bring any underlying tension to the surface. Better to let sleeping dogs lie. 

You chose some satirical nature documentary, figuring that it would be an easy watch. As the narrator’s smooth voice supplied you with useless and absurd animal factoids, you settled into the couch cushions, lulled by the comfortable warmth of the soup, the blankets, and Jaebum. 

Somehow, you imagined that you started to feel better. The prickling in your throat and the constant heaviness of your chest eased a bit. It felt strangely healing to have Jaebum around to take care of you, even if the soup and the blankets wouldn’t be able to actually cure your illness. 

Jaebum seemed to be healing, too. The stiffness in his shoulders had finally relaxed, and he was all loose limbs and easy laughter beside you. He had lost some of his pallor, color returning to the smiling apples of his cheeks. He eased closer, closing the gap between you until he was pressed comfortably against your side, and you melted into him out of sheer relief. 

With just the two of you together, laughing and comfortable and invading each other’s space as you always did, you felt lighter than you had in weeks. It felt like you again. 

Us, a quiet voice in your head supplied. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, during a lull in the show.

“Hm?” You turned to him to find him looking back at you. You realized with a start that his face was terribly close to yours. 

The laughter had faded from his face, replaced by a thoughtful expression. His eyes were warm and fathomless, and they were all you could see as he inched closer to you. Your breath hitched and you froze, not even daring to blink. 

“I need you to know something,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He was so close you swore you could feel his lips brush against yours. “I think I should have told you this a long time ago.”

“Tell me,” you said, softly. 

His eyes flicked down to your lips and back up, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He hovered there for a second before his eyes slipped shut and he leaned in even closer, until—

You heard the distinctive buzz of his phone. The screen flashed to life, and you looked down to see her name and a picture of the two of them smiling blissfully. In love. Your stomach dropped. 

Jaebum jerked away from you as if burned, and before you could even begin to think of something to say, he was already standing and shoving his feet into his shoes. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” he said, and he didn’t spare you another glance as he rushed out the door. 

It slammed shut behind him, and you were still frozen, sitting in a tangle of blankets and staring at the door with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. 

“...They’ve survived for 600 million years without a brain,” the documentary narrator said. 

You could relate, you thought bitterly. 

-

Weeks passed without hearing from him. Your calls and texts went unanswered. He��d gone completely dark on social media. For all you knew, Jaebum had simply ceased existing.

Sometimes, you wished you could stop existing, too. You couldn’t tell how much of the heaviness in your chest was caused by the weeds growing in your lungs and how much was just plain heartbreak. You supposed in a sick way, they were the same thing. 

You knew you would have to do something about it soon. You already had precious few options in the first place, but somehow, your options seemed more limited than ever. You cursed yourself for ever hoping and reminded yourself with each wracking cough that you never really had more than one choice in the first place. But still, you had a lot to think about.

You thought about that pamphlet, about the phone number for the treatment clinic. You thought about Jaebum's eyes as he leaned in close to you, and you wondered if that was what he looked like when he was about to kiss someone. When he was about to kiss you.

You thought about that a lot— him kissing you. You thought about kisses and laugher and bright smiles. You thought about wishes made on dandelions, about the blood-speckled dandelions you coughed up. 

You called the clinic and made your appointment.

#got7 #jaebum #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #im jaebum #got7 scenarios #got7 one shots #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop one shots #got7 jb #jb #jb x reader #jaebum x reader #got7 angst #hanahaki disease #kpop angst

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Come and Lay the Roses 15- Never Fallen From This High- [Ivar x OC]

Summary: Aaline and Ivar are cornered by the brothers. Can they not see how they look at each other?

Characters: Ivar x OC, Bjorn x Torvi, Ubbe x Margrethe, Hvitserk x Thora, Sigurd x OC, Lagertha, Ragnar

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, violence, sex, torture, language, mentions of rape/sexual assault

Ch. 14

Word Count: 1887

Author’s Note: So clearly I suck. I planned to update three times last week and only updated once. It’s obvious to me now that my update schedule will be sporadic so please bear with me. I’m going to update as often as I can but it clearly won’t be as often as I used to. 

“You look at him and see the stars. He looks at you and sees the sun. Both think the other is looking at the ground.”

Aaline had been working in her office for three hours where there was a knock on her door. The words “come in “ had barely left her mouth when the door opened. Hvitserk was standing there with an easy smile, adjusting his jacket sleeves. 

“Good morning, Aaline. How are you this fine day?” He continued to smile at her, almost maniacally. Aaline pushed slowly back from her desk and gave him a stilted smile. She stood and came around to the front of her desk.

“I’m doing well, Hvitserk. Can I ask what you’re doing here?” She asked. She leaned against the front of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest, studying him. 

Hvitserk struck her as a man who viewed the world with a glass-half-full mentality. He was a difficult person to dislike. He always had a smile on his face and Aaline often heard him and Thora laughing well into the night. He seemed to enjoy life and yet still knew when it was time to get to work. 

She had spent the most time with him as opposed to the other brothers. Björn had his own children to raise and look after and only spent working hours at the estate. He was mostly holed up in Ragnar’s study or with Lagertha at the office. Aaline usually only saw him during family dinners. 

Ubbe spent most of his time at the office and with Margrethe. Aaline often wondered why Ubbe had married Margrethe. She was incredibly high maintenance and spent a great deal of time drinking and lazing around the house. She brought nothing to the table and Ubbe spent most of his time pleasing her and making sure she felt comfortable. 

Aaline consciously kept her distance from Sigurd. She loved Sibylle. The woman was sweet and had a kind heart but all Aaline knew of Sigurd was malice. He made it a point to humiliate Ivar at every opportunity. He had nothing but rage and hatred in his heart for his brother and Aaline didn’t pretend to assume that that rage stopped with Ivar. Anything associated with Ivar, Sigurd found a reason to hate it. 

Hvitserk stepped further into Aaline’s office and settled his hands on the back of the plush chair in front of her desk. He continued to grin at her. 

“I wanted to see if you were busy. It’s nearly lunchtime. We could get brunch. There’s this French bistro a block down the street.” He jerked his head towards the door and his smile melted into an easy grin. 

Aaline contemplated for a few seconds but ultimately felt that she couldn’t refuse him. Part of her new role as Ivar’s wife was making nice with his family and Hvitserk was his favorite brother. If she wanted to maintain her positive relationship with Ivar, she should at least try to make friends with his brothers. She already did consider Hvitserk a sort of friend.

In all honesty, Hvitserk was more like an acquaintance or a work friend but her life, and the life of those around her would probably be easier if she was at least friends with the people that she interacted with regularly. Besides, she didn’t think Hvitserk would be a bad friend to have in her corner.

Hvitserk was quiet as they made their way down the street. Aaline wasn’t stupid. She knew that Hvitserk had invited her to brunch because there was something he wanted to discuss with her. She may have interacted with him the most but she didn’t know him. She didn’t know what he wanted to discuss and she didn’t know why. She was blind to his intentions. 

“I heard what you said.” He blurted. She looked over at him. He was the picture of ease with his hands tucked inside his pockets and his face turned up towards the sun, relaxed. She opened her mouth to speak but he turned to her and continued. 

“At breakfast the other day with the other women. You were talking about Ivar.” Aaline looked away and nodded absently. She was familiar with the conversation he was referring to. Torvi had expressed concern for Aaline’s wellbeing and Margrethe had thought it was a good idea to express her opinion of Ivar in front of Aaline. 

Aaline was familiar with their history but Margrethe’s perspective was skewed. She liked to look at things based on how they affected her and not the big picture. Aaline was aware of Ivar’s reputation and knew that it was well deserved but few people were aware of Aaline’s reputation and how hard-earned it was. Aaline knew things about Ivar that Margrethe did not and she did not take kindly to the other woman besmirching her husband’s name because he’d hurt her feelings.

“No one’s ever defended him before.” Aaline was jolted from her thoughts by Hvitserk’s statement. She gave him a dubious look and he laughed. 

“Outside of the family, I mean.” He shook his head and sighed. 

“I was always his fiercest defender. Growing up, Ivar and I were the closest. Ubbe was too old, by the time Ivar could talk he was too busy showing off and chasing little girls around the playground. Sigurd largely ignored him. Mother coddled Ivar and neglected Sigurd and he was already resentful. That left me.

“I never wanted Ivar to feel lesser than any of us. He already knew he wasn’t like the rest of us and I didn’t want him to feel even more ostracized than he already was. I made it a point to be his defender, an advocate of sorts.” She could feel Hvitserk’s eyes on her but she kept her eyes straight ahead. They’d been walking for a while and Aaline had a feeling that he was leading her in circles, avoiding the restaurant in favor of continuing their discussion.

“Do you pity my brother, Aaline?” She jerked her head up to stare at him. His audacity threw her off-kilter and she didn’t know what to say. She blinked in bewilderment up at him, turning away without saying anything. She heard him chuckle and her hackles rose. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin high. 

“Forgive me for my forwardness. I still find myself wanting to protect Ivar and,” He heaved a sigh that sounded pained. “Aaline, you are an unknown and I need to make sure that Ivar will be protected.” He glanced down at her and sighed again.

“If that means I have to protect him from you, I will.” His voice was soft as it carried between the small space separating them. She held her head high and refused to answer him. He clicked his tongue and turned a corner, stopping in front of a small yet classy French bistro. He wrapped his hand around the handle and looked down at her. 

As she stepped forward to enter the restaurant, he spoke again. 

“I see the way you look at him, Aaline. I am not blind.”

She peered up at him and his face was free of any emotion but he looked honest, open.

Heat burst upon her cheeks and she looked away, nodding once. Hvitserk smirked and gestured her forward.

“After you, madam.” 

.

“What I don’t understand is why she left him alone, you know? Sure she got her revenge but why not keep it up? Make him afraid of his own shadow? Shit, I would’ve stalked the fuck outta him until he was afraid to leave his own house.”

Ivar rolled his eyes hissed when Ubbe failed to spot him in time. Ubbe chuckled as he reset the barbell and switched places with Ivar. Ivar stepped around to stand at Ubbe’s head and helped him lift the weight off the bench. Ubbe grunted as he lifted the weight.

“He was afraid of his own shadow. The man was clearly in fear for his life. He had a constant bodyguard and he only ever left the house for the office and back again. She had him thoroughly scared.” Ivar watched Ubbe’s arms shift as he pressed the weight up off his chest and back down.

“Yeah but, like, I’d have someone follow him everywhere. Watch him walk to the office and back. I wouldn’t be satisfied until he was dead.” Ubbe said.

Ivar sneered and pressed down on the weight, delighting in the strain present on Ubbe’s face. He leaned down until his forehead was nearly touching Ubbe’s. The older man gasped beneath Ivar’s added weight and pressed back against him but Ivar had the superior upper body strength and easily kept Ubbe down. 

“The man may as well be. He can’t look over his shoulder with fear. My wife has damaged him enough psychologically that anything I do physically will never compare. The man is as good as dead.” Ivar kept his weight down just long enough for Ubbe to understand before he stepped back. 

Ubbe pushed the barbell up into its cradle and he sat up, heaving and sweating, his face red with exertion. He shook his head, wiping his hands on his towel, and glared over his shoulder at his brother.

“I’m not blind, brother.” Ubbe pronounced. Ivar quirked an eyebrow, his breath coming hard and his eyes flint. Ubbe shook his head and sighed, heaving himself up off the bench. 

“I see the way she looks at you.” Ubbe stood tall and met his brothers accusing glare. Ivar kept his mouth shut but his lip curled up in a snarl. Ubbe cracked a smile and shook his head, amused. This only made Ivar angrier and he hissed, taking a step towards his brother. Ubbe raised in hands in placation and bowed his head. 

“I meant no offense.” Ubbe looked back up at Ivar and nodded once. Ivar relaxed only a little and kept his eyes on Ubbe. 

“I only meant that she watches you as much as you watch her.” Ubbe drew his eyebrows together and looked Ivar up and down. He was standing defensively as if he expected Ubbe to attack him. Ubbe shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“Jesus, Ivar, do you really not see it? She wants you. It’s the clearest thing in her eyes whenever she’s looking at you.” Ubbe watched as Ivar’s face went from aggressive to contemplative. It seemed Ivar hadn’t taken the time to really look at his wife. Either that or he was blind.

“Ivar, Aaline is a beautiful woman.” Ubbe held his hands up in submission when Ivar growled and took a threatening step forward. Ivar kept his hands fisted at his sides but let his brother continue.

“She’s beautiful and men notice. What are you going to do when someone propositions her?” Ubbe quirked a brow in triumph when Ivar’s eyes narrowed and he snarled low in his throat. 

“She’s a good woman, Ivar. She won’t go behind your back but,” Ubbe took a step forward and bowed his head low, keeping his head close to Ivar’s.

“Someone will try to take her from you if you’re not careful. Do something about the looks that she sends you.”

Tags: @bcarolinablr @jay-bel @feyrearcheron44 @inforapound @youbloodymadgenius @littledeadrottinghood @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar x oc #Bjorn Ironside #bjorn x torvi #Ubbe Lothbrok #ubbe x margrethe #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk x thora #sigurd lothbrok #sigurd x oc #lagertha #Ragnar Lothbrok #arranged marriage #Crime #mafia au #modern au #come and lay the roses

[kelyon]

Golden Cuffs 34: The Claiming

Rumbelle Dark Castle BDSM AU

Belle and Rumple reconnect physically

Read on AO3

Rumpelstiltskin blinked at Belle as she looked up at him from her position at his feet. His breathing was shallow and rapid, his hands clenched and unclenched as he stared at her in utter bafflement. 

“Tell me again,” he said slowly. “Tell me what you want, Belle.”

“I want you to take my body back,” she answered. “I want you to own me again. I want you to make me your whore.”

He took a step backwards, into the hallway beside the library’s wooden door. “It is too soon,” he protested. “Far too soon after your ordeal. You cannot possibly--”

“It’s what I want,” Belle said fiercely. “When I was a child, I was thrown from a horse, and my mother told me I had to get back on as soon as possible. She didn’t want me to be afraid of something I had enjoyed just because I had gotten hurt doing it.”

Rumple gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing until he found his words. “This is not the same thing.”

“Every moment I spend without you touching me is another moment where the last person who touched me was Regina.” Belle pushed down her repulsion at the notion, at the memory of Regina’s cruel hands and lacquered nails clawing at her body. “I’ve been home for nearly a full day and it still doesn’t feel right.”

Still on her knees, Belle reached out to touch his legs. “Make me feel right,” she begged him. “Make me feel normal again.”    

Crouching down, Rumpelstiltskin looked into her eyes. He searched her face, looking for meaning in her features as though she were a book in a language he couldn’t read.

“I’m not just saying this because I think it’s what you want to hear,” she told him.

“Oh, I know that, my girl,” he said as he stood up. “Because I know that you know that I would rather never touch you again than hurt you irreperably.”

She did know. Rumpelstiltskin tended to avoid her after he had done something he thought was wrong. If he had his way, it would be days or even weeks before he felt worthy of giving her orders again. It would be even longer than that before he broached the subject of fucking her, and Belle couldn’t imagine how long she would have to wait before he was ready to play a pain game. 

It would be even worse now that she had the library, now that he would no longer be responsible for feeding her and putting her to bed. There was no longer any reason for them to be together, no bodily need for them to satisfy but lust. And if Rumple chose to deny himself that pleasure, where did that leave her? 

“I would rather take the risk,” she said. “I would rather know if fucking will hurt me. Better that than to live in fear that it might.”

Rumpelstiltskin rubbed his face. “And what would I know about facing fears?” he muttered. He stood that way, with his hand over his mouth, for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to finish thinking. He reached down and helped her stand up.

Even when she was on her feet, Belle held on to Rumple’s hand. His flesh was warm beneath her fingers. His calloused skin sparkled green-gray against her pale pink fingers. For a moment, both of them looked at their hands, the only place where they were joined. 

“Make me yours,” Belle whispered. “Those witches stole me from you. Now let me know that they will never have me again.”

At that, Rumple took her in both hands, holding her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Never.” His fingers rubbed at the blue silk of her robe as his amber-colored eyes poured into hers. “They will never have you again. No one will, unless you ask for it.” 

“I’m asking you,” Belle whispered. She brought her hands to his chest, laying her palms flat against his soft leather waistcoat. “Will you kiss me?”

He bent his head nearer to hers. They breathed the same air, but he came no closer. “Only if you want me to.”

“Please.” Belle felt hot tears prickling in her eyes. She wanted him. She loved him. And being denied the comfort of his body was unendurable.

But then his mouth was on hers and his arms were around her and she closed her eyes and in the darkness there was nothing in the world besides Rumpelstiltskin kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cursed the high leather collar that kept her from his skin. She wanted him. She wanted all of him, wanted him with a hunger that had no logic or sense, that knew nothing but its own need. 

They broke apart, both of them panting and staring at the other. Rumpelstiltskin wiped his mouth with his thumb, dragging it across his lips in a cocky smile.

“Good thing you said please,” he said with an impishness that she hadn’t seen in so long.

Belle felt a jolt of excitement go through her. Had he seen her jump? Did he understand how much she wanted this, wanted him?

“If I say it again, will you do more than just kiss me?”

She certainly saw him jump. He stood up straighter, his eyes bright and glinting. He shook his head at her. 

“Wicked girl,” he grinned. Then he became businesslike. “Here are your choices: If you go back into the library, I cannot follow you. You will have as much time and space and solitude as you would like to have.”

Belle understood that, even if she didn’t like it. “What are my other choices?”

He held his hand out to her. “If you take my hand, we can walk together to the dining room. You can serve me tea, and we can sit together in companionable silence. Or talk to each other, as you like.”    

That was a better possibility than being left alone, but it still wasn’t what she had asked for. “Is there a third option?”

His grin went from impish to wild. “Since you mention it…. There is a crimson bedroom, at the end of this hallway, around the corner. If you choose to go there, the door will be open for you.” His voice lowered. “If you run, I will chase you, and when I catch you, you will be entirely at my mercy.” 

Belle swallowed. That. Yes. That was what she wanted.

“The choice is yours, my sweet.”

Without a second thought, Belle turned on her heel and bolted away from the library. After a brief head start, she heard footsteps behind her. Her heart raced at the thudding of his boots on the stone floor. She ran down the hallway and rounded a corner towards the only door that was already opened. Panting and giggling, Belle rushed to the bedroom. With a flying leap, she jumped onto the bed and landed on the scarlet coverlet.

She had just enough time to sit up on the edge of the bed before Rumple pounced onto her with a growl. Laughing, Belle threw her head back and exposed her neck to his fearsome kisses. She joyfully surrendered herself to being devoured by this savage beast.  

He kissed her roughly, ferociously, scraping his teeth against her flesh. Such a perfect pain! Soon she would be covered in bite-marks. She would be able to touch her throat and feel the heat of his passion on her skin. His dark welts would cover the scars from Maleficent’s thorns. Belle let out a high-pitched squeal of arousal and delight. She was becoming his again.

Pulling open her robe, Rumple moved down to her chest. His lips pressed against that skin with as much fervor as they had at her throat. 

But now instead of delighting in the mild pain, Belle bolted up and hissed. His mouth had met the skin burned by dragonfire. 

Rumple pulled away at once. Belle dug her nails into her palms and breathed through the pain on her chest until it faded. Strange how her body knew the difference between good pain and bad pain. 

The burns still hurt. She didn’t want to admit it, but they hadn’t healed yet. She was still suffering the effects of what she’d been through. 

Rumple sought her out, his eyes no longer savage, but questioning, fearful.

“Not on the burns,” Belle whispered. Gradually, she lay down again, her legs dangling off the bed. “But don’t stop.”

With a slight nod, Rumple went back to his work. His mouth went to her breasts, where no damage had been done. He bit and sucked at the rounded flesh to put his mark on her. Belle closed her eyes to imagine the sight, the purple and red splotches against her pale skin. He licked her nipples until they were so hard they ached. Then he sucked at them until Belle felt the pull of her desire coming up from her secret places and out of her mouth in a deep moan.

He released her breast with a pop and waited for her to open her eyes. “Good?”

Belle nodded her head loosely. “So good.”

“Tell me what you want next,” he ordered darkly. “Beg me for what you most desire.”

His tone was so imperious, so delicious, that Belle felt the shock of pleasure run down her spine and land between her legs.

“Please, Rumpelstiltskin,” she whimpered. “Please put your mouth on my cunt.”

His eyes shone. “You greedy whore,” he murmured fondly. 

But when he spread her robe and looked between her legs, he stopped playing the game. He didn’t speak, and didn’t move. Belle propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at him. He was staring at her secret places--at the bare mound that had once been hidden by her curls but now sat exposed and vulnerable.

“They did this to you,” he said simply. His voice was calm, but his lips twisted into a snarl around the words.

“I think the hair is growing back already.” Belle said. “They didn’t use magic, just pulled everything out by the roots.”

He winced. “I will never be out of your debt for this.” He shook his head. “None of this would have happened to you if you weren’t associated with me.”

“Let’s not think about that now.” She reached out to him, touched his face and stroked his crinkly hair. “Right now I just want you to kiss it better.”

She felt his breath against her skin as he huffed out a mirthless chuckle. 

“Please, Rumple,” she said. “This is what I meant. I ask you now--I beg you, Rumpelstiltskin--to pleasure me so well that I forget I was ever in pain.” 

“Oh, Belle,” he pressed a kiss into her palm. “I hope I can do as you ask.”

“If anyone can, it’s you.”  

He bent his head between her legs and put his mouth over her cunt. Belle leaned back on the bed and allowed the warmth and the pleasure to overtake her. 

Rumple started with kisses--light and sweet. Had he ever kissed her so gently before, anywhere? Pressing his lips to her prickly fuzz, he covered her bare skin, inch by inch. Belle spread her legs wider, and his kisses became more adventurous. He used his tongue in light strokes, swiping and licking at her inside and out. He pressed his mouth against her wetness, and she felt the heat of him envelope her. 

But it wasn’t a flame, it didn’t burn to have him touch her. He was just a man. A man who cared for her and wanted to give her pleasure. 

Belle felt that pleasure. She felt herself throb and ache for him. He was giving her everything and all she could do was beg for more. Her legs were over his shoulders and she dug her heels into his leather waistcoat, trying with all her strength to bring them closer together.

 He pushed his nose against her pleasure spot and gripped her thighs in his hands. Her pleasure rose up into his kiss as Belle arched her back and cried out. All the tension in her body sprang loose at once and she fell back on the bed, limbs limp and heart racing. 

“That was wonderful,” she panted. 

“That was quick,” Rumpelstiltskin said as he stood up. He was still dressed, still composed. If it weren’t for the sheen of fluids on his chin, he would have looked perfectly normal. 

“Well, I missed you.” Suddenly shy, Belle pulled her legs up on the bed and rolled to hide her face among the pillows. She didn’t want him to see her blushing, didn’t want him to see her silly, girlish smiles. Rumple would never believe how happy he made her, even if he saw it with his own eyes.

“Was that all that my whore wanted?” There was the slightest archness to his voice. Belle got the impression that if she said it was everything, then he would bid her a good day and be about his business. She couldn’t have that. She couldn’t stand to spend another day away from him.

Sitting up, Belle tried to control her smiles. She chose her words carefully. There could be no confusion about this.

“That was one way in which you can use my body for your pleasure, Rumpelstiltskin. You made me come very well.” Belle paused to give those words time to settle in his mind. 

“But,” she went on, “there are many more ways that you can get pleasure out of me--your pleasure and mine.” His eyes were dark as he listened to her, his pink tongue darted out from between his lips. “I want you to do all of them.”

She saw the jolt go through him, as though her words had been a bolt of lightning.

“Belle,” he whispered.

“Take me back,” she murmured. “Take me back in to your bed. Take me back to how it was before. Take me the way you used to take me, Rumple.”

He looked at her, and his eyes were dark and hungry. He stood over her and she spread herself out for him, displaying her body like a feast for him to devour. 

“Your robe,” he said huskily, “take it off.”    

Belle moved so quickly that she couldn’t feel the cuffs pulling at her wrists to make her obey. For once, she was faster than they where.

Rumpelstiltskin was even faster. The moment she was naked, he was on top of her on the bed. He had made his clothes vanish and he pushed his cock between her legs. It slid inside her wetness and Belle let out a throaty moan. 

Just like that, they were joined again. The two of them had become one flesh. Their bodies pressed together so closely that nothing separated them--not even silk, not even air. In an instant, they had recreated the union that had been built up over months and that had been severed for these endless days.

It felt so good Belle wanted to weep for it. Her secret places clenched around his cock as she tried to pull him in, deeper and deeper. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, she dug her nails into his bare back and clung to him.

“Oh Rumple,” she whimpered. “This is perfect. I want this--I want you!” Her body trembled as she fought the urge to say all she really felt, settling instead for: “I want you so much.”

His strokes had been frenzied and passionate, but now he slowed down. They breathed together, both of them savoring the feeling. Being together like this had once been so familiar, but now it felt new and different, almost as though they were strangers who didn’t really know each other at all. 

Rumple felt it too, this oddness. She could see it in his eyes. There was something restrained about him, even in this passion. It was like he was waiting for her to scream and shout for him to stop. He was still afraid of hurting her.

“It was only three days,” Belle said out loud. “Why should we let it ruin everything between us?”

Putting his weight on his hands, Rumpelstiltskin looked down at Belle. “A whole life can change in an instant,” he said. “One moment, one bad decision, and you can lose everything.” He bent down and kissed her, deeply, on the lips. “You are the first thing I’ve lost that has ever come back to me.”

Belle’s heart fluttered, from his words or his kiss, she couldn’t say. “I never want to be away from you again.”

Chuckling, he shook his head and pulled out from her, sitting over her on his knees. 

His cock jutted away from his groin, still hard and rampant. Belle saw her wetness glisten against the dark green skin of it. Her cunt clenched around the aching emptiness it had left behind in her body. 

“You said you wanted everything, you tireless slut.” He grinned at her, as though this was nothing but a game. “Are you ready for me to claim your mouth?”

“Of course, Rumpelstiltskin,” she answered as she pushed herself up on the bed. 

He sat up on the pillows with his feet tucked under his legs. Facing him, Belle rested her hands on his shoulders and ran them down his chest. His nipples tightened and grew hard at her touch and his breath hitched, just a little, at the sensation.

Belle bit back a smile and moved her hands down to his thighs. Perhaps it didn’t matter how they were together, just so long as they were. Perhaps it would be enough just to be around him, to share in the pleasures of their bodies. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter if he never gave her his heart, or if she never told him that he had hers. If they could just do this for as long as they could, perhaps that would be enough.

Positioning herself between his legs, Belle looked up at Rumpelstiltskin. She loved the sight of his body. The lean muscles over a slight frame, his gray-gold skin that darkened into green on the areas where he was most sensitive. Her fingers traced the shaft of his cock, and the loose, fleshy sack underneath. He was darkest there. As soon as she touched him, he let out a strangled moan. 

Belle sighed. “You’re so lovely.” 

Snorting, Rumple opened his eyes and looked down at her. “You need to meet more people, my girl.”    

“No,” she whispered. “All I need is you.” She swallowed and forced herself to stop staring at his face. “Besides,” she said lightly, looking down at his cock and stroking it, “you’re going to claim me, aren’t you? Once I’m yours again, you won’t let me go to someone else.”

She bent her head over his cock, but before she could put her mouth on him, Rumple pulled her up by the shoulder.

“Belle,” he looked at her intensely, “you are safe from people you don’t want. I will never order you fuck anyone. But you deserve a bigger world than what you’ve had so far. There’s no need for your experiences to begin and end with me. Do you understand?” 

Slowly, she blinked at him. Her mouth was still open. “Do you intend for me to be with other people?”

“I don’t want you to be afraid of the idea.” He released his grip on her shoulder. “There are many good lovers in the world, my sweet. People who will treat you well and give you all the pleasure you deserve. If you want them, we can make arrangements that will satisfy everyone.”

Belle took a deep breath, in and then out. It was such an odd thought, that he would allow her to want another person. Did he want her to have other lovers? Would it excite him to see her be used by another man, to see her pleasure a woman?

She pumped his cock slowly, taking comfort in the solid warmth of it, the realness of his desire for her. “When I was with Ariel, did you enjoy watching that?”

“The important part was that you enjoyed it.” He shook a little, under her attentions. “It was something you had never done before, but you had no trepidation.” He reached out, to wrap a strand of her hair around his fingers. “I never want you to be afraid again, my brave girl.”

Belle had too many thoughts to make them form words. Being with Ariel had been good. She had trusted Rumple then, and it had turned out quite pleasantly. And before the party, she would have had no fear of pleasuring another person, especially not if it was someone Rumple trusted, someone he wanted her to be with. If he wanted to watch her service one of his friends, if it was something he actually wanted and would bring him pleasure, then perhaps it would be something she could do. In theory, at least, she didn’t object to the thought of Rumple sharing her with someone who would give her pleasure.

But this--Belle thought as she finally lowered her mouth over Rumpelstiltskin’s rigid cock--was exactly the wrong time for him to bring it up. Right now, she wanted to belong to him and only him. It didn’t matter who he wanted her to fuck, all she wanted was to be with him, to please him in whatever way she could.

By relaxing her throat, Belle was able to take all of him into her mouth at once. She sank down and rested her forehead against the soft skin of his groin. On her way back up, she licked long lines along the shaft, tasting her own wetness on his skin. What a perfect combination! The taste of her salt mixed with his spice never failed to arouse her. The rich, earthy darkness of his body, of his cock in particular, was her favorite flavor in the world.

“Why should I take another man?” Belle asked coyly between kisses up and down his length. “I’m sure no one in the world tastes as good as you do, Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Fuck,” he hissed. In one motion, Rumple grabbed Belle by the hair and got up on his knees. He didn’t let her move away from his groin, but kept her by his cock, pushed himself inside her.

He fucked her face, quickly and roughly, wrapping her hair around his fist. Belle closed her eyes and let him take her, let him have her. In that moment, she was nothing, and she wanted to be nothing. Nothing but what he wanted her to be.

“Of course I want you,” he grunted as he thrust frantically into her mouth. “I want you to be mine and only mine. I still want everyone in the world to envy me with my perfect woman!”

He pulled out of her suddenly, and Belle was certain that he would come on her face, that she would feel his hot, black seed bursting against her lips and on her cheeks.

But all she felt was his mouth.

He kissed her, rough and passionate. His arms embraced Belle like she was a life raft and he a drowning man. He stayed close to her when they broke apart, his breath hot and heavy on her face. 

“But I will deny you nothing, my Belle. You deserve every pleasure in every world, and I will give you everything my power can offer you. No matter what it costs.”

She kissed him back, softly, tenderly. “I only want you, Rumple, and what you can give me as yourself.”

For a long moment, they held each other.  Belle rested her hands on his neck, on his back. She felt his muscles relax under his skin, felt his breathing slow as he breathed her in. She tried to believe her own words, that she would only take what he was willing to give her. It would be selfish to ask for anything more. 

“You are so important, Belle,” he whispered in his serious voice. “You are the first woman who has wanted me in so long. And I thought you would never let me touch you again. I thought I had destroyed you, destroyed what we have between us.”

She shook her head against him. “I couldn’t lose you either, Rumple. I don’t want this to end. I lo--long for you. So much.” She winced at her lapse, at the moment where she had almost said more than he would want to hear.

He didn’t seem to notice. Rumpelstiltskin’s hands crept down Belle’s naked back and rested on her bottom. He squeezed.

“Shall I claim this too?” he murmured, playful again. “Does my whore still want me to take everything?”

Belle’s heart pounded. How quickly he could change! How suddenly he turned from tenderness to ribaldry! But that was who he was, wasn’t it? Rumple wouldn’t be Rumple if he wasn’t as devious as he was lovable, as sincere as he was theatrical. And Belle could love both parts of him. Every part of her body could belong to every part of his personality.

“Yes, Rumple,” she let out a dreamy sigh. “Yes, fuck me there too.”

He giggled and Belle smelled lavender. Oil in his palms glided over her flesh, coating her backside as he prepared her. It used to be that he would use oil of roses for this, and the fragrance would linger on her body for days after he took her. But now it was lavender, and it had been last night as well. Would she ever have roses again?

“How did you know?” she asked as he rolled her over his knees to rub her flesh. “How did you know that Maleficent would use roses to hurt me?”

Rumple’s hand stilled, but he kept it splayed over her bottom. “There is a castle in another kingdom,” he said quietly. “It is covered entirely in thorns. A princess has slept in that castle for ninety-eight years, enchanted to stay forever young and beautiful. No matter the season, the castle is always surrounded by leafless thorns. Except on the one day a year when Maleficent comes to visit. On that day, the sleeping castle is covered in roses.”

Belle swallowed. A princess. Of course. Belle knew what it was to be Maleficent’s princess. Fire coiled in her stomach and she tried to shut out the thoughts, tried to push away the memories of false smiles and forced caresses, of the thorns pushing into her skin and the roses that had burst into bloom at the moment of Maleficent’s pleasure. 

She turned her face away from Rumpelstiltskin, but he was there anyway. He pulled her up into his arms and held her in his lap. He murmured gentle words to soothe her fears.

“I’m alright,” Belle said. She hoped it was true. “I don’t want to stop.”

“No one said anything about stopping, sweet girl. But we can go more slowly. We have all day, after all. We have weeks. We have months, my Belle.”

“No,” she insisted. “If we let them change things between us, they’ll have won--again! I can’t bear that, Rumple. I can’t bear for anything to keep us from this!”

He stroked her back as she fought off tears. “It’s not just fucking you want, is it, my girl?”

She shook her head and tried to breathe. Deep breaths, like he had taught her. There was so much that she wanted, so much that she was terrified of losing.

He held her until she stopped trembling. Then he lifted her chin and kissed her, slowly, on the lips. “What shall I do for you, Belle?”

Looking down into his lap, she saw that he was still half-hard. Her distress had cooled his ardour, but not by much. Good.

“My asshole,” she answered, deliberately choosing the crudest word she could. If she could shock herself with words, perhaps that would keep the thoughts from hurting. “The last person to touch me there was that poor guard. Regina forced him to fuck me without any oil. It hurt so much, and he was so miserable. They--they used my body to torture him.” She bit her lip to keep herself from blubbering.

Rumple held her hands in his. “What can I do?”

She forced herself to open her eyes. “Enjoy it, when you fuck me there. Make me feel wanted, Rumple. Make me feel good.” A wave of tears rose up and Belle came so close to stopping it. Only one sob broke through in her voice. Only a few tears. “Make me feel like I’m good. Please.”

He took her face in his hands and brought her into his embrace. They lay on the bed as she wept and apologized for weeping. He reassured her over and over again that she was good. She had nothing to apologize for. She was good and lovely and had done nothing wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she said one final time. “I wanted so badly for things to be normal again. But I think the queens did ruin us.”

Rumpelstiltskin’s mouth turned to a hard line. “No,” he said. “No, you were right before. I will not have the bond between us broken because of self-centered child like Regina.” He sat up. “Do you want this now, Belle? Or would you feel better in the library?”    

She shook her head. “Let me stay with you.”

“Do you trust me?”

Distraught as she was, he was the only thing in the world that she did trust. “Yes.”

“Alright.” He pulled off the coverlet and lay naked on pink satin sheets, the folded blanket covering his feet. “Will you face away from me, Belle? Will you straddle me?”

She would, though it took some fumbling before she realized what he had in mind. As she sat on her legs, Belle’s bottom perched in front of Rumple’s hardening cock. After wiping away a few lingering tears, she braced herself on her hands and allowed him to open her with his fingers. 

Rumple’s hands rubbed up into her wetness, pulling the slick heat down from her secret places where it mingled with the lavender oil. Unlike the guard, Rumple had an easy time entering her. Her body knew him, wanted him, welcomed him now more than ever. When his fingers slid inside her narrow passage, Belle felt none of the disgust that usually arose at this invasion. Instead, the physical presence of him soothed her. The fullness in her body steadied her mind, weighed her down like ballast in storm-tossed ship.

“I’m going to put my cock inside you, Belle.” His tone was even, assured, and that also was a balm to Belle’s spirit. He was so confident, he had so much control over himself--he made it so easy to let him have control over her too. “Unless you object?”

“No, Rumpelstiltskin,” she breathed. In the edges of her mind, things were beginning to blur and become fuzzy. She was falling into that pleasure-haze, that wonderful place of complete safety. “Please do it.”

Having his cock in her ass only made her feel better. It was so solid inside her, like a second spine that could support her when her own strength failed. Inch by inch, he entered her, until he was fully sheathed and Belle could feel the warmth of his groin against her backside.    

She moaned--a dark, guttural sound--and rocked her hips back and forth.

Rumpelstiltskin chuckled from behind her. “I trust that feels good for you, my dear?”

“Mm-hmm!” Belle grunted. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling. the perfect hardness of his desire. Once again, they were joined together, just as much as when he was in any other part of her.

“I’m not going to move,” Rumple announced. “Not for a while yet, anyway. I want you to find your pleasure in this, Belle. I want you to control how you get fucked.”

Something inside her clenched at his words. This was a desire she was happy to grant.

With her eyes still closed, she began to move her hips slowly, grinding against him in a dance with no music. Her hands traveled up to her breasts, to her neck, and she slowly slid them down again, relishing the feeling of her own touch. What a shame Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t see her in this position. He would think she was so beautiful.

Turning her head, she looked back at him. He was lounging on the pillows, his jaw slack but his expression intent. His lips were parted and Belle could see the tip of his pink tongue. His eyes were black and glassy with lust.

When he saw her looking at him, his mouth quirked into a grin. “Perhaps a little faster?”

Happy to obey, Belle turned back around and let his cock slide in and out of her. She closed her eyes and braced herself against his bare legs. It was almost tricky; she had to concentrate to make sure that he didn’t come out of her as she thrust over and over.

Pleasure rose up out of Belle. How quickly would she come if she brought her hand to her pleasure spot now? More quickly than if Rumple did it himself? She imagined him reaching up to her suddenly, clutching at her cunt and working his fingers to make her come while she still had him deep in her ass. The thought sent a surge through her, and she bent over double to fall against Rumpelstiltskin’s foot.

Only one foot was visible to her. The other had been covered by the kicked-up blankets. With her hands gripping onto his calves, and with his cock pumping in and out of her ass, Belle inclined her head and placed a kiss on his black toenails.

He felt it. She could tell by the way he jerked. She hadn’t kissed his boots since she had come home. It seemed possible that she might never kiss his boots again. But she had no qualms about kissing his bare feet. If he was going to do her the courtesy of fucking her naked, of holding her while she cried, of giving her everything she asked for--then at least she could give him a little fealty in return. 

She kissed his foot again and again, thanking him for everything he had done for her, everything he insisted she deserved, but for which she was still grateful. She was grateful for him, for every part of himself that he gave her access to. Perhaps he would never love her back. Perhaps she would always have to choose her words carefully in order to keep him from knowing how much she loved him. But as long as he gave her this, she could be happy.

She did want more than fucking, but if fucking was all Rumpelstiltskin could give her, she would be grateful for it. The pieces of him that she could claim were only shards of a greater whole, but they were what she had and she would treasure them. She could claim this moment, and a thousand moments like it, when Rumple’s body belonged to her as much as hers belonged to him. 

He pulled up suddenly, grabbing on to her torso, taking control for himself as he followed the bend of her body. Belle went limp for him, pliant and submissive. She was his, and she would let him claim her. 

“Belle,” Rumple grunted as he pounded her into the bed. He thrust into her from behind as his arms crossed over her chest. “Belle!”

“I’m here, Rumpelstiltskin,” she whimpered. “I’m yours.”

“Mine,” he growled, and then he pulsed, hot and wet, inside her. 

Belle gasped as her pleasure overtook her. It had been too much to come while his cock was hard and insistent in her ass. But as he softened, Belle began to quake and moan. She curled into a ball on the bed and shook out her completion. Rumpelstiltskin lay beside her, covering her with his body, protecting her and holding her as she trembled in spent desire. 

Eventually, the shaking subsided. Belle’s panting slowed into regular breaths. Her heartbeat stopped its racing. She sprawled out on the bed, utterly exhausted, utterly at peace.

Rumpelstiltskin stayed beside her, resting his arm over her arm, his hand over her hand. They breathed together, their united exhalations the only sound in the crimson room. As she came to herself a little more, Belle scooted back into Rumple’s arms. He took her in, so they were nestled together like two spoons in a drawer.

Not for the first time, Belle wondered if she endured all the strains of passion just to have these moments of blissful exhaustion. Fucking was wonderful, of course, but this sweet glow afterward was almost as good as the burning ecstasy that had preceded it. 

When Rumpelstiltskin nuzzled his nose into her hair and pulled her so close that not even air separated their bodies, Belle could have sworn that it was better.  

#Golden cuffs #rumbelle #rumbelle fic