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yanaromanov · 2 months

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pretty little beginnings

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: the start of the new semester sees you reunited with your best friend, kate, but also introduces you to your surprisingly gorgeous new professor. when you get a perfect score on her first class test, she’s keen to have a conversation with you…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, reader is a perfectionist, minors dni.

authors note: i have no idea about america or their universities so am purely basing this off my own experience at my uk university, so if anything is incorrect i apologise but also let’s just pretend it’s not :)

part one of the inescapable love series

inescapable love masterlist

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

7.8K words

The beginning of term was always one of your favourite points of the whole year. To most, returning to campus after summer was somewhat of a bittersweet moment, having to come back to the reality of long classes and endless studying. For you, however, it was the start of something new, a fresh look at different courses that hadn’t yet bundled up into countless assignments or exams. The start of term always carried the least amount of pressure and therefore, the least amount of anxiety. Everything was starting from page one again, and it always provided you with a few weeks of sweet relief before you’d once again inevitably realise just how stressful school truly was.

Aside from the pressure of classes, most of your peers also found sorrow in the end of their summer break visiting home and their families. For you, however, this wasn’t one of your mind’s concerns. In fact, the trip back to university provided solace, a well-deserved partition between the people who you’d spent the past few months trying to tolerate.

Now, to say your family were awful to be around would be overstating things, in truth they weren’t all that bad, but spending summer with them was certainly not on your list of dream holidays. Most days you hid away in your childhood bedroom, trying to avoid the bickering voice of your mother, persistently droning on about school and your grades. She’d always taken a great pride in her children and that had certainly extended to you, her ideologies of perfection constantly looming over your shoulder. Your dad liked to drink, not enough to endanger his health but enough to wake you a few nights a week when he’d stumble around the kitchen in a drunken stupor. This itself was rather a hypocrisy, your dad being the one who dragged everyone to church on a Sunday morning to praise the Christian values when it seemed the holy day was the only one he didn’t seek out the bottle. At least now you were thankful that Sunday was the only day you had to deal with your older brother, when he’d join the rest of your family at service. For years, his perfection had been a constant reminder of how you were the disappointing child, despite attending one of the most prestigious universities in America.

In fact, your family was one of the main reasons you had even applied there. Not, as one may think, to appeal to their standards, but in fact, because it was about as far away as possible you could get from them. England was your home country, growing up in a small town in the southern parts of the land. Moving to America had been a big deal, having to completely relocate your life to an entirely different part of the world, but it had been something you desperately needed. At first your mother had been hesitant to let you go at all, but once she’d heard the ranking of the school you’d earned a scholarship for, she was all for having a daughter at a prestigious university in the states.

So, that was how you ended up here, already three years into your university career with only one to go until graduation. Living in America had been just the step you’d needed, finally giving you space from your overbearing family and in the process, also gifting you with one of the closest friends you’d ever had. Kate had been the first friendly face you’d seen at your new school, smiling widely as you’d first stepped into your shared dorm and energetically shaking your hand. Ever since, the pair of you had been practically inseparable, growing closer and closer everyday, and three years later, you still found yourselves sharing a dorm room.

Despite Kate’s skills in friendship, there was one thing about her that one may call a character flaw; the inability to ever wake up on time. It was the first official day of the semester, a few weeks having passed since the two of you had had your happy reunion and redecorated your shared room. The sun shone through the curtains which you had opened almost an hour ago. In all honesty, it was quite impressive how Kate had managed to not only sleep through your alarm, but hers as well. Atop of that, you’d not taken the curtesy to get yourself ready in a quiet manner. Now however, Kate really needed to wake up.

A tress of black hair flew up in the gust of wind that the pillow brought along with it. Moments later, Kate was sitting up quickly, cursing out at you for throwing at her in the first place. You chuckled at her antics as she tried to wipe away the hairs clinging to her mouth. “You overslept, Bishop,” you called, voice light and playful.

Kate scowled back at you, finally free from the mess of her bed head. Seconds later, you were dodging the pillow flying back across the room towards you.

“Hey!” you called back, narrowly missing getting hit in the head. “You’re the one who told me to wake you up, remember? You said this was the year you were getting your shit together.”

Kate’s expression was nothing short of unimpressed. She let out a loud groan as she threw herself back down into the confines of her bed, bringing her hands up to hold her face. “Can we reschedule that to next year instead?”

The chuckle that left your lips was light. “You know there is no next year.”

Your hands reached out towards her, grabbing hold of her duvet and ripping it from her bed. A small scream escaped Kate’s lips as she desperately tried to rescue the cover, albeit she arose unsuccessful. You passed her a small smirk as you threw the duvet to the floor. “If you’re not ready in five minutes, I’m going for breakfast without you.”

The girl passed you a none-too-happy glare but eventually settled on rolling out of bed, groaning loudly as she fell ungraciously to the floor. Simply laughing off her antics, you moved towards the full length mirror that hung in your dorm to check your outfit one last time. The warm weather still clung to the September air, resulting in the floral summer dress you’d adorned for the day, a small white cardigan sat atop of it. As always, your worn-in converse sat upon your feet, tattered from the years they’d spent traversing you to class.

American weather was just another one of the things you loved about living in the states. Summer in England was sticky and gross, the house always too hot, lacking AC and unbearable to sleep in at night. You’d always end up tossing and turning, sweat sticking the shorts to your body. Every street smelled like disposable barbecues and there never seemed to be enough ice in the shops to cool your drink. Overall, it was a rather uncomfortable experience. But Summer in America was a whole different story. It felt like the movies when they’d jump out of school on the last day, sun shining down on top of them. It was warm outside, and you could enjoy the sun before slinking back to a cool room with beautiful air conditioning, rather than you’d dad’s old fan that was louder than an airplane flying overhead.

“Are you almost done?” You finally turned away from your reflection, glancing across the room to where Kate was pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail. She’d dressed in a pair of old shorts and tshirt, obviously forgoing the ritual you’d followed of dressing cute on the first day.

“Yep,” Kate replied breathlessly, moving to put on her trainers, hopping around the room as she pulled them on. Once they sat upon her feet, she stood upright and looked at you with a dopey smile. “Okay, let’s go.”

You smiled shamelessly back, opening the door to your dorm in order for the pair of you to venture out. Kate simply passed you a small thanks as she slipped out into the corridor, followed closely by you after locking up your room. Thankfully, most days you left together as Kate never seemed to remember that crucial step.

———

“Wait, so you’re actually taking Russian this year?”

Your eyes rolled as the question rung out. “Kate, we’ve talked about this so many times.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders. “I just don’t get why you’d take a random language, that’s all.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you watched Kate take a bite of some scrambled eggs. As she did most mornings, she’d chosen to load her plate up from the breakfast trays, paired perfectly with a full glass of orange juice and a large mug of coffee. On the other hand, you’d only had a slice of toast, simply buttered, then a coffee of a similar size that you’d already downed. For someone who liked to attend meals so close to classes, one would expect Kate to choose smaller portions that she could maybe finish without shoving it in her mouth two minutes before she had to leave.

“I told you, Kate,” you repeated with another sigh. “I had to pick up some credits and the only thing that fit with my timetable was either Russian or a programming class.”

Your face screwed up at the last words you uttered, the idea of such a thing enough to turn your nose up. Kate could have taken some offence, considering her major was computer science and she was in such programming class, but it seemed she was too focused on finishing her half-eaten eggs.

“I thought you said there was a Spanish class you could take?” Kate said, talking around a mouthful of food.

Your eyes rolled in your skull, not only at her actions but at the fact she’d only remembered that small detail of your previous conversation. “There was,” you replied, crossing your arms on the table. “But I just thought Russian sounded more interesting.”

Kate raised a brow as you shrugged a shoulder. She didn’t have much time to judge you however, as you checked your phone to see there was only a few minutes until your first classes. Kate scrambled to finish the food on her plate as you collected your things, downing the rest of her coffee before pulling her backpack on to her shoulders. In the end, she had to run after you out of the dining hall after you’d already left, not letting yourself be late because of her antics.

The pair of you walked across campus together, Kate branching off to her first class and promising to meet up at lunch. You continued on to the building in which your timetable indicated your Russian class would be held. It was all rather new to you, a building you’d never been in before on campus. You supposed it fit with the class that you’d be taking now, stepping into something entirely new.

Thankfully, you found the lecture hall quickly, not discouraged by your unfamiliar surroundings. A lot of the seats were already filled up, the class just a few minutes from starting. You found a space down near the front, a usual spot for you in your determination to never miss anything a lecturer was saying, persistent on never having a blank spot in your notes.

The remaining minutes passed as you set yourself up for the class, pulling out your notebook and pen and setting them neatly on the desktop. Remaining students filed in, filling up what had to be one of the smaller lecture theatres on campus. It seemed there were barely thirty students who had decided to take the class, a small number compared to your usual large English lit course.

Noise bubbled in the room as the clock ticked by. At the exact second the hour struck, a door to the left opened wide.

“Good morning. If you could all settle down now, please. I need to take attendance.”

All attention fell upon the person who walked through the door, silence befalling the room as their voice echoed through the hall. As your eyes lifted from the scribbles on your notebook, they too sought out your new professor, but what they found was certainly not what you had been expecting at all.

The woman that approached the desk at the centre of the room was perhaps the most gorgeous you’d ever seen. Her hair fell perfectly in cascading curls, a brilliant red draped across her back. She wore a pair of black slacks, paired with a light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves. Her heels clicked meticulously across the polished wood as she set a laptop down at the centred desk, opening it up and glancing down at the screen.

It seemed you were not the only person affected by this woman’s presence as the entire hall fell silent as she began to call register. Most professors at this school were old men, droning on about things tirelessly. Even when presented with a female professor, none ever compared to the power and lure that this woman seemed to radiate across the class.

Once she’d finished calling names and assured everyone was marked down correctly, the red-haired woman moved towards the front of her desk, leaning back against it as a pair of arms came to cross over her chest. Your eyes found particular interest in the very expensive looking watch that sat upon her left wrist.

“Okay, my name is Professor Romanoff, as you have probably seen on your timetables. I will be your teacher for this class on introductory Russian.”

All ears seemed to be on the professor as she spoke, her voice confident in the space it held.

“I will start off by saying that this class is not easy so if you have taken it for that reason, I suggest perhaps changing.”

A tight smile appeared on a pair of red painted lips as the professor continued talking, the curtness behind it clear.

“This class is not impossibly difficult but it is certainly not a free ride. Anybody who treats it as such, is likely to fail.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe something in the air, but your attention seemed to cling to everything that fell out of the professors mouth, practically drinking up every word that she said. Your eyes found themselves particularly focused on her lips, adorning a shade of red so perfectly you even questioned if they were naturally that colour.

Professor Romanoff continued to rattle off expectations for the class, bringing up exam dates and testing styles before discussing an outline of everything the class would cover. Your pen jotted down everything she said, almost working faster than your brain could keep up, that ever persistent need to be perfect taking over once more, just like it did every time the new semester rolled back around.

Overall, the class seemed to be mostly an introduction. Professor Romanoff outlined specific topics you’d cover, before beginning to teach the difference between the English and Russian alphabets. Whatever it was she said, every word was jotted down into your notebook with persistent attentiveness.

The class seemed to pass by quickly, the order to pack up echoing out earlier than you thought it would, but with a quick glance at your phone, you realised that an entire hour had indeed passed. You tidied up your belongings, throwing them all into the old backpack you carried about everywhere, then got up to follow the crowd out of the lecture theatre. Your mind found itself satisfied with the enjoyment of the class, finding everything taught very interesting. Some part of you even found yourself somewhat excited for the next time you’d dawn the building and Professor Romanoff’s class.

———

“So how was it?”

Kate’s words were out of her mouth before you’d even sat down at the table, delayed in joining her by a few minutes due to your English professor droning on too long in his lecture. A sigh escaped your lips as you finally set yourself down at the dining table, throwing your backpack underneath as you looked over at your friend.

“How was what?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Your Russian class,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing ever said.

“Oh, right,” you replied, reaching for the cutlery on your tray and using it to begin cutting the omelette you’d picked up for lunch. “It was good.”

Kate raised a brow, obviously more curious than your answer could satisfy. “Just good ?”

You nodded in response, raising a single shoulder. “Yeah, good. It was really interesting.”

Kate hummed, taking a bite of the chicken burger she’d chosen for lunch. Like she often did, the girl spoke around her food to ask you another question. “How was the professor? Some old Russian guy?”

Unsure of exactly why, it felt like your heart gave a little flutter when Kate mentioned the professor, maybe it had something to do with the way you’d spent most of the lesson staring at her and thinking how beautiful she was. “Uhm, no actually,” you replied, taking a small bite of your food. “It was a woman. Quite young looking too.”

Kate’s interest seemed to be piqued, a single brow raised. “How young?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know how young. Like, thirties? I don’t know.” You shrugged again, unsure of how exactly to answer her question.

The girl across from you hummed. You could tell why it was a suprise to her, it had been to you too when you’d first laid eyes on your new teacher. Most professors at this university were very good at what they did, but that often came with the experiences of age. A younger professor was an uncommon sight.

“What was her name?” Kate asked, still chewing another bite of her burger.

“Romanoff.”

Kate hummed. “And she was any good?”

“Yeah,” you replied lightly, trying not to think too hard about the way her red hair had formed perfect curls. “She seems a little strict but she’s a good teacher.”

“Well, that’s always good I suppose.”

From there, Kate seemed to become disinterested in the professor, instead moving on to discuss a cute girl she’d seen in her programming class. You’d asked more questions but the pair of you knew Kate would never do anything about any crush she had, she would get far too nervous and stumble over all of her words any time she tried to talk to anyone. Many times you’d watched her fail to flirt with someone drunkly at a party, accidentally blurting out something stupid that caused the other person to turn away. Each time you’d end up giving her a pat on the back and assuring her she’d get the next one, both of you secretly knowing it probably wasn’t true. Nevertheless, it was fun to fantasise about cute people you saw on campus and Kate often liked to share all the things she’d like to do with someone if she could actually talk to them.

Your conversation slowly passed on to other things, talking over activities you both did over summer, but sooner than you’d like, the time came for you to both head to your next classes. You both packed up your things, tidying away your lunch trays before heading out of the dining hall and across campus, Kate giving you a very dramatic goodbye before disappearing into her coding class and you slipped away to criminology, some part of your mind still clinging on to the idea of alabaster skin and perfect red curls.

———

The semester kicked off quickly and before you knew it, you were already three weeks in. Your time had been spent flitting between your classes, keeping consistent with your notes and readings. That fresh term feeling still resided within you, positivity and interest radiating through you in each of your courses. Though your creative writing class remained your favourite, your new Russian elective had quickly climbed the charts to take spot number two. Something about the language simply drew you in, perhaps how different it was to English, but every class seemed to suck you in entirely and leave you eagerly awaiting the next one.

Through Kate’s complaining, you were exceedingly glad that you didn’t pick her programming class, the professor apparently loading far too much work on his students. Though, you were never sure how much of the complaints could simply be down to Kate’s dramatics. The pair of you continued to spend your free moments in each other’s company, talking over every meal and studying in the library. You made the most of the disappearing sun, basking in the last of the summer warmth on the campus lawn, your head stuck in a book while Kate napped next to you.

You’d also easily picked up your part time job once more, the manager of the campus coffee shop reminded of your hard work the past three years. The job itself was usually rather tiring, filling up your weekends and free mornings, but it paid for your food so you knew it was a necessity. Thankfully, the lingering warmth had meant the shop had remained rather quite so far, not too many people racing for a hot coffee while the sun still shone down from above. Your experience however, let you know that in just another few weeks, you’d have to pick up the pace and things would get increasingly harder as the temperature began to drop. Yet, for now you basked in the calmness that the summer brought. But one person in particular seemed determined to change that.

Kate stumbled around the room, grabbing different outfits from the closet and trying them on, before deciding they were no good and tossing them on to the floor. She’d never been a very quiet person getting ready, usually singing along to whatever band she found interesting that month, but at that exact moment, you wished she’d sometimes find a slightly calmer routine.

Your head hurt, most likely from dehydration. It had been a long afternoon shift at the coffee shop and it seemed summer was giving everyone one grand goodbye, bringing the temperatures soaring and consequently, leaving you with a very sweaty shift. Now you were back in the dorm, showered and in some light pjs, hoping to finally get started on the work you’d been thinking about all day. But someone seemed destined to distract you. Your eyes fell to Kate, desperately trying to find a top to match the current skirt she was wearing. “I hope you’re gonna clean that up,” you said, glancing at the mess of clothes on the floor.

“‘Course I will,” Kate replied, pulling another top from a drawer. “Ugh, why does nothing look right!”

You glanced once again to the girl, taking in her current appearance. “Wear the silver top,” you said nonchalantly.

Kate began rummaging in the drawer, knowing what you had meant and what to look for. She pulled the top out and tried it on, looking at herself in the mirror and letting out a pleased hum. “Looks good, thanks.”

She passed you a grateful smile and you simply passed one in return, merely thankful that she’d stopped making such a fuss while you were trying to work. Your body turned back towards your desk, eyes falling back on to the open notebook in front of you.

“I really can’t convince you to come tonight?” Kate’s voice whined as she touched up her makeup in the mirror. “It’s always super boring without you.”

“I told you already,” you replied, not looking up from your notes. “I can’t go to a party, I have to study.”

Kate sighed loudly. “What are you even studying for? It’s only the third week!”

“My Russian class. I have a test on Monday.”

Your roommate blew a gust of air from her mouth, the repel evident. “You still have all of tomorrow to study.”

“You’re right, I do. And I intend to use all the time I have.”

Despite still looking at your notes, you could see the eye roll Kate gave you. “Whatever, loser,” she called, grabbing a bag to take with her. From behind, you could hear her pulling on a pair of heels, which would probably end up in her hands before the night was done. “I’ll try be quite coming in,” she said, reaching for the door.

“Keys?”

“Shit.”

The noise of scrambling filled the dorm once more as Kate rummaged about in her backpack for her set of keys, an item so frequently forgotten about. You heard them jingle in her hands before being slipped into her purse. Then, she said her actual goodbyes and slid out of the room, finally leaving you to study in peace. You released a relieved sigh as silence fell back over the room and you allowed your eyes to scan the Russian letters and grammar scribbled out across your paper. Whatever party Kate was venturing to that night, it wouldn’t be the thing to keep you from studying, your mind entirely focused on the terminologies written in your notes and determined to commit every piece of it to memory, no matter how long it took.

———

Natasha loved her job, truly she did. In fact, she’d given up her career of lawyering to begin teaching, something about it always drawing her in. But one part about her job that she didn’t enjoy as much, was marking papers. Although it was an integral part of her role as a professor, it seemed marking always held tedium in the never-ending correcting of answers and decoding of illiterate handwriting.

A low sigh escaped her lips as Natasha circled yet another grade atop of a paper, a red ‘D’ followed by a smaller ‘62%’. It wasn’t a surprise to her that most of the grades were on the lower side, especially for her introductory class, the highest so far reigning at a 73. It always took new students a while to get used to the new alphabet and syntax that Russian carried, their grades reflecting that sometimes up until the midterm. Papers like this were Natasha’s least favourite to grade, constantly having to mark down corrections for spellings or grammar, and usually taking up more of her time than she’d like.

The smell in the kitchen at least worked to brighten up her mood, the soft aroma of a home cooked meal fluttering straight from her nose and down to her anticipating stomach. Wanda always loved to cook and each night Natasha loved coming home to eat whatever she’d stirred up for that night. Her wife dotted around the stove top as Natasha sat across the breakfast bar, two stacks of papers sat next to her. Her mind was hoping by the time she was finished marking, Wanda would have dinner ready and the two could finally relax for the night.

Determined to get finished, Natasha reached for another paper on the stack, briefly brushing over the student’s name before beginning her marking. The usual first questions went expectingly well, but as the test slipped into slightly trickier territory, it seemed the common errors that Natasha had grown so used to seeing, were entirely absent. As each question progressed, Natasha found herself becoming continually bewildered at the perfect answers provided on the paper. At the very end, flipping over the last sheet of paper on to the counter, she lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “Huh.”

Wanda’s head raised from where it sat looking down at a pan, now gazing over at her wife with an inquisitive look. “What is it?”

Not answering immediately, Natasha flipped through the test once again, looking over the many check marks next to every question. Slightly confused, she closed the paper, looking up to meet her wife’s eye. “Some student just got a hundred percent. Like, a perfect score.”

Now it was Wanda’s turn to look a little shocked, her brows raising as she leaned across the counter. “You think it’s legit?”

Natasha shrugged, the scenario playing in her mind. “I mean, I monitored everyone whilst they took it. Nobody looked to be cheating.”

The taller redhead let out an almost amused hum. “Impressive. What’s this outstanding student’s name?”

The paper flicked back to the front cover, Natasha’s eyes flitting over the name scribbled on the top of the sheet in neat handwriting. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Natasha’s mind searched its archives for any mentions of the name, its presence feeling familiar on her tongue. She fell back to taking attendance, specifically on the first day of class. The name had rung out in the hall and a small voice had picked up to answer it. Natasha remembered her amusement at the English accent she’d heard radiating across the room, originating from a young girl in a pretty summer dress near the front row. It seemed some part of her mind had locked in the gentle smile that accompanied such a sweet voice.

"Cute name," Wanda hummed, moving to stir her pot before her recipe could burn.

"Yeah..." Natasha's eyes remained on the sheet in front of her, scanning over the name and conjuring images of the face that matched with it. "I just don't know how she could have done this perfectly." Her fingers flipped through the pieces of paper, eyes scanning the work written in black ink. "I mean, everything is exactly how is should be. Even her cyrillic is written neatly."

Wanda let out a low hum as she continued fussing about with the stovetop, her answer coming out rather nonchalant. "Maybe she's in the wrong class? Was supposed to enroll in one of your others at a higher level?"

The proposal had already flashed across Natasha's mind, the work in front of her seemingly too good for someone of beginner status. There was always something wrong, some letter they'd missed or some word in the wrong order, it was never this perfect. Her mind had scoured back to previous years, trying to remember if she'd taught her before, but the name sounded too unfamiliar, and besides, she would have recalled that distinctive cute accent that this certain student possessed. "Maybe," Natasha replied finally, turning back the paper to the front. "But I don't see why she wouldn't have swapped out already. I mean, she would have had to have noticed by now, right?"

Wanda licked the small spoon in her hand, tasting her dish before tossing the metal away into the sink. It always amazed Natasha just how much of a multitasker her wife could be. Still adding things to her meal, Wanda tossed a comment over her shoulder. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Talk to her."

The idea washed over Natasha, already present in her own mind. The curiosity of the situation was pulling her in, already wanting to know more about this mystery student. As she thought of the girl in her head, more interest seemed to curate within her. Seeing that adorable smile she'd caught each time she'd called attendance, hearing that charming little accent that followed her name being called, something about it all drew her further in than one may expect, in ways perhaps unrelated to the test in front of her. Excitement and curiosity brewing in her, Natasha looked up to smile at her wife. "I think I will."

———

Today was not a good day for you. Not only had you forgotten your water bottle back in the dorm, but it was also the first day of the semester you’d be receiving back a test. It was only a small one, one that wouldn’t dent your final grade enough to matter, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t spent hours studying for it. You should have known that the peaceful calm that followed the start of term wouldn’t last forever, but it seemed every year the reality of things slipped your mind and you suddenly felt the anxiety crashing down on your shoulders a few weeks in.

Aside from a small introductory piece you’d had to write for creative writing, this was your first proper assessment of the year. As you sat in the lecture hall, waiting for class to begin, your mind flooded over everything you’d done to prepare, the hours of studying you’d put in, thinking back to the questions and if there was anything you could have possibly misread. Your foot tapped quickly against the floor as you pondered the possibility of a bad grade, particularly the berating that would follow from your family if they ever found out. You tried your best to settle your anxiety as the minutes ticked by, assuring yourself that you’d put in all the effort you could, a good grade surely waiting for you after all your hard work. But when the doors to the hall opened and your professor walked in, the pit in your stomach only dropped further.

“Morning everyone,” Professor Romanoff called out, briefly glancing across the class. In her hands you could spy the laptop she usually carried, alongside the stack of test papers you’d be receiving back very shortly. Your heart continued to beat in your chest as attendance was taken, voice slightly shaky when it came time for your name to be called.

“Right,” the redheaded woman said, closing down her laptop after finishing the register. She reached for the stack of papers in her desk as she stood, moving towards the front of the class and looking out. “As I said, these tests are mostly just a baseline to let me know you’re all on track. Though, if you are failing, maybe come see me and we can have a chat about why.”

With that, Professor Romanoff began towards the class, calling out names and passing out tests. You tried not to look as she walked up the isle next to you, the first time close enough to touch. Mostly, your eyes remained on the desk in front of you, mind reeling at the possibility of failing. You wouldn’t fail, right? You’d studied for hours.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

A low voice brought your head up from its position, mind dragged from your thoughts and thrust back into the present moment. Your eyes raised to see your professor suddenly stood in front of you, her stare focused upon your face.

“Yes?”

A tight expression appeared on the redhead’s face, almost a smile but not quite reaching her eyes. Her fingers slid your test paper back towards you, face down against the desk. Your eyes flickered down to it before returning to her gaze. “See me after class, please.”

If there were any words you wanted to say, your throat tightened to prevent them from escaping. Before you could even comprehend what she had said, Professor Romanoff was already moving on towards the next student. Your eyes followed her momentarily, then darted back towards your upturned test. You failed, your mind screamed at you. You must have failed.

Tentative fingers reached out towards the paper, your heart preparing for the first ‘F’ ever written on one of your tests. You were already thinking about how you’d have to explain this to your parents, how you’d let it settle within yourself. The paper flipped over, the red writing of your grade distinct at the top of the first page, but when your eyes fluttered over to it, they did not find what they had been expecting mere moments before. Instead of a giant ‘F’ like you’d been anticipating, the paper held a large ‘A’ on the front, then beside it, in a smaller circle, a 100% mark.

Your eyes almost couldn’t believe what they were seeing, mind more relieved than any time you could remember. Almost at once, your body had relaxed, that small smile appearing on your lips like it always did when you did well. You hadn’t failed at all, in fact, you’d done the complete opposite. Maybe this day wasn’t going as bad as you had anticipated. But then you remembered your professor’s words.

See her after class? What could that possibly mean? Your mind suddenly became erratic again, the anxiety taking control and catastrophizing every possible scenario. You were unsure how you felt with the idea of spending time alone with Professor Romanoff, suddenly worried she may have the ability to read minds and would be able to tell how much your mind had floated back to her face over the past few weeks.

The thoughts in your head were so loud you didn’t notice when your professor first began going on the test. It was only by question four you’d caught on, suddenly snapping back to reality and trying desperately to join back in with the class seamlessly. It seemed, however, that your mind still couldn’t concentrate, entirely focused on the conversation the red-haired woman in front of you had requested to have.

Your eyes fluttered around the room, glancing at the other students to perhaps gage how everyone else had done on the test. Briefly, they fell upon the desk next to you, spying the ‘56%’ scribbled on to the top of the test paper that sat there. When your eyes raised to the girl it belonged it, she passed you a quick scowl, making an eye to the perfect score that sat in front of you. Feeling far too seen, your eyes snapped back to your own paper, hoping that said girl knew you weren’t at all judging, though by her face, it seemed those were her exact thoughts. For the rest of the lesson you vowed to keep your eyes glued to your own paper, too scared of what they might find in the faces of those around you.

Eventually, your professor’s words began to drown out, overtaken by the lingering anxiety clouding your mind. Before you knew it, you’d spent the entire hour stuck inside your head, rethinking every possible scenario that could possibly occur after class. Now, you were forced to face the reality as Professor Romanoff dismissed the class, requesting papers be returned to her before anyone left.

You watched from your chair as a line of students all placed their papers in a stack on the side of the wooden desk. Slowly, you began to pack away your things into your bag, trying not to draw attention to yourself any more than necessary. When you stood, you clutched your test close to your chest, hiding the score away from anyone who might have passed you a look any similar to the girl previously sat beside you.

As the line of students dwindled down, all turning to leave the lecture room, you slowly approached the desk at the centre of the room. The last of your class let the doors swing closed behind them just as you reached the wooden surface, leaving you in the room entirely alone with your professor. You watched her from behind as she wiped the chalkboard clean, erasing away any remnants of the previous lesson.

The air felt so thick you could choke on it. Your mind told you to make yourself known, clear your throat or something, but it seemed you were almost frozen in place. Only when Professor Romanoff finally turned, did you even move at all.

“Ah, Miss Y/L/N.”

The woman dusted her hands against each other as she began to close the gap between the two of you. Both of your eyes met each other, her gaze locking on to yours as she walked back towards her desk and sat down on the edge of it. You swallowed harshly as you danced on the balls of your feet, your irrational thought of mind reading suddenly coming back to you. But Professor Romanoff didn’t say anything towards the sort, instead, simply extended her hand out towards you, palm facing up to the ceiling.

“Oh, right,” you stumbled, handing over the test paper which she had just previously been looking at. It was slightly crumpled from being pressed to your body but the woman seemingly took no notice, simply glancing over it before returning it to the pile of others on her desk, a low hum escaping from her lips.

When her eyes turned back to meet yours, you suddenly noticed how green they were, never having been so close as to regard them before. Blazing emerald gazed back at you as your heart pounded in your chest.

“This is a very good paper, Miss Y/L/N. I’ve never had a student get a perfect mark on one of my tests before.”

As Professor Romanoff’s voice caught your ears, your heartbeat only seemed to quicken its pace. Something in her gaze felt scrutinising, the small curt smile on her lips enough to practically drag your next words out from your mouth.

“I-I didn’t cheat if that’s what you think. I swear.”

It was spilling out before you could stop it really, words tumbling over one another in a desperate attempt to plead your case. That had been the conclusion you’d drawn from this scenario, the reason you’d been asked to stay back in the first place. But to your surprise, Professor Romanoff simply raised a skeptical brow. “I never said you cheated, did I?”

Suddenly you felt very warm, like the wonderful AC you always gushed about had instantaneously disappeared. “No-I just-I-I mean-“

The words tumbled from your mouth, barely coherent. They were quickly silenced when Professor Romanoff raised a hand, passing you a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“I don’t think you cheated, Y/N,” the professor said after a moment, lowering her hand once more. “I’m just curious as to how you achieved such a high score.”

You felt a little stupid, mind too ahead of itself like always and blurting out the first thing it thought of without even thinking properly. Professor Romanoff’s words washed over you and you picked up on the question present, thinking over your answer briefly before shrugging your shoulders. “I just studied, I guess.”

That perfectly sculpted brow raised once more. “Studied?” Professor Romanoff seemed to look you up and down, gazing at the way you picked at your nail beds anxiously. You stopped immediately when she seemed to notice, instead moving to hold your hands behind your back. The professor moved her eyeline back up to you once more, a curious expression now taking over her face. “Have you taken Russian before?”

You shook your head. “No.”

Professor Romanoff let out a low sigh, adjusting herself on the table where she sat. She was once again wearing a pair of fitted slacks and polished heels, partnered today with a short-sleeved white blouse. From this distance, you could tell the material was silk. You tried not to stare at the woman’s exposed arms as the came to cross against her chest, and more importantly, at the slight cleavage on show that now pressed higher as she moved.

“It’s highly unlikely for a beginner to get a perfect score on a test,” your professor said, eyes meeting yours. “Especially so early on.” The air seemed to grow thicker as the redhead leaned in closer towards you, her gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “So if you’re lying to me, sweetheart, I’d appreciate if you didn’t.”

The name hung heavy in the air, hammering at your lungs as you stood under the woman’s scrutinising gaze. Suddenly, you felt warmer, your heart rate picking up even more as the words of defense began to stumble from your mouth once again. “I-I swear I’ve never taken it before. I-I just-“ You swallowed harshly, trying to regain some of your composure. "I looked at the syllabus over summer and maybe taught myself some of the basic concepts is all. And I did some extra reading, but I just wanted to be prepared! I haven't actually done Russian properly before, I promise. I-I just-"

Professor Romanoff raised her hand once more, silencing your stuttering. "It’s alright, milaya," she said, a small smile now spreading across her lips. "Calm down." The Russian was recognised by your ears but not your mind, left untranslated in the conversation as the redhead continued to talk. "You’re not in any trouble. I was just curious"

The gentleness of your professor's voice was enough to settle you down, suddenly feeling foolish for blurting out like you had. You took a moment to breath, looking down at your feet as they swayed you back and forth. "Right," you said, voice now quiet in the near-empty room.

When your eyeline raised to Professor Romanoff once again, she was still looking back at you with that gentle smile, her eyes soft under the light. After a moment of her gaze on you, she released a small sigh, reaching back to place a hand on your test that sat at the top of the pile. "This is very good test, though," she said, nodding her head towards you. "You should be proud of yourself."

The praise washed over you in a wave of warmth, spreading across your cheeks and down the back of your neck. It wasn't often you received recognition for your work, it certainly never being enough back home, so you never really learned how to properly cope with it without your face embarrassingly heating up and a dopey smile appearing on your lips. You tried your best to hide these now, looking back at the redhead in front of you. "Thank you, professor."

The woman smiled, unbothered by the way your fingers had moved to begin fidgeting with the zip of your hoodie, desperate to find something to distract your flurried mind. "I assume you have another class to get to, Miss Y/L/N?" Professor Romanoff stood up, now looking down on you from a few inches above, her heels adding even more height so that you had to slightly raise your head from where it had been to look up at her.

Your head nodded. "Uhm, yes I do."

The redhead began to collect the papers that sat on the side, adjusting them into an orderly pile. From behind the desk, she smiled over at you. "Well then, hurry along. I wouldn't want to make you late."

Your head nodded again, more frantically this time. "Of course." You adjusted the backpack on your shoulders before turning away, headed towards the door to your right, but before you could reach it, Professor Romanoff's voice called out again.

"And Y/N?"

You turned quickly, facing her desk once more with an awaiting expression. The woman met your eye, the smile on her lips different now, almost what one could mistake as a smirk. She looked over at you as she said, "Keep up the good work."

For the third time, you nodded, feeling yourself heating up again. "I will," you replied, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you again, professor." And with that, you turned and reached for the door, rejoining the rest of the world with a blush on your cheeks. As you headed towards the exit of the building and on towards your next class, your mind tried desperately to think about anything other than the way your professor’s arms had looked pressed against her chest, or more noticeably, how sweet the nicknames she had called you felt upon your ears.

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #platonic kate bishop x reader #lawyer wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader

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billskeis · 4 months

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ᡣ𐭩 bill and his tank tops

you look at bill who you lead into the bedroom. closing the door behind you, you press a small but sweet kiss onto his lips that leave him smiling. “what’s up schatzi?” he asks, his cheeks are a rosy pink as he stares at you.

“you’re just so breathtaking, bill—like i can’t get enough of this look!”

laughing, he tilts his head, “where’s this coming from?” “i mean, come on, bill.. are you kidding? like you’re beautiful everyday but this hair.. it’s driving me crazy..” you stare at bill as he averts eye contact, clearly, you’re making him embarrassed by the unexpected compliments tonight.

but it’s true. for their new era, bill decided to get dreadlocks. tom says that he’s copying him but each of their hair looks totally and completely different despite following the same concept.

now don’t get it twisted, tom’s dreads were sick as fuck. but on bill?

it just unleashed this sort of sex appeal that cannot be explained, yet it suits him just right.

on top of that, for their humanoid era, bill’s fashion has been incredibly taunting. and it’s not just any piece of clothing, it’s the tank tops. let it be tight to show off his small waist and a little bit of bicep to prove he does a little work out on the side, it was sensual, and when you first witnessed it,

you swear gears started to turn in your head.

it didn’t pique your interest until one of the tank tops that bill wore was wayy more loose on him. slipping off his shoulder, “sorry meine liebe.. i just need to grab something,” as the strap of the tank top falls even lower, you peek through an opening to reveal his bare chest. he might as well have not worn anything today because he’s dressing like a total slut.

the little buds taunting you, as if they were trying to tease you on purpose. was he doing this to get at you or did he just completely not know..?

licking your lips, you rub your hands on bill’s shoulders, “can.. can i try something..?” bill’s eyes widen. the two of you weren’t really experimental in bed. your vanilla lifestyle had kept the two of you satisfied and never really branches out to the dark sides of intimacy.

until tonight.

“mmhm!” bill sounds excited, he himself wasn’t really the expert as mentioned, but would be willing to do and go through anything and everything if it was with you. you sit bill down on the bed. following after you swiftly take off the tank top that he was wearing off his torso.

a sharp inhale, as you looked at bill in all his glory. your eyes analyzed his body, he had also gotten a new tattoo that laid upon the side of his ribcage, it took four hours, and it was totally worth it because it was hot as fuck.

and you were the only one who could see it.

bill’s arms come up to hug his body in embarrassment, “y/n.. you’re staring s’much..” “sorry bill, can’t help it, my beautiful boyfriend is soooo hot..” you bring your hands to hold his arms that still wrap around his body. “now let me see you more? ja?”

he could only oblige when you lift away his arms with no trouble. placing each arm down to his side, you slide your hands up and down his chest, tickling him. “what’re you doing..?” bill’s chest heaves slightly, getting a little bit ticklish to the sensations of your hands moving across his body.

“just a little sumthin’” you stop your hands above his nipples. they’re so tiny. so tiny and so cute. standing above bill in front of him, all he could do was look up at you and bite his lip in anticipation.

you bring your fingers to circle around the muscle. just curious, into seeing how he would react. you would circle the pads of your fingers awfully slow, looking down at his chest and back up at his face.

twisted in confusion, bill didn’t know how to react. it was ticklish, uncomfortable. but some part of it brought upon pleasure, as you continued to move your hands across his chest the way you like, he could feel his pants becoming a tad bit tighter.

“you okay bill..?” “y-yeah.. feel s’weird, but i like it..” you come to sit and straddle his lap, kissing his lips and bringing your hands to run you fingers through his hair, “would you like me to continue?” bill just nods and looks back down shyly.

you grip onto his hair to make him look at you once more, “billy.. i need you to use your words,” “y-yes please..” “very well.” hands upon his chest, you fondle the tissue under your fingers while bringing his mouth to yours yet again.

you lick at his lips to ask permission, mouth slightly agape you take this as a sign and slip the muscle into his mouth.

bill didn’t even attempt to fight for dominance, tonight, he was gonna let you take over.

as your mouths entangle one another, you feel bill’s tongue piercing and run your tongue across it. while doing so, you thought to take it up a notch elsewhere and pinched his nipples.

“mm!” bill moans into the kiss, “feels good hm?” as you speak into the kiss. bill would just whine and essentially started to grind his hips onto yours after realizing you fully sat on top of him.

you lay bill down onto the soft mattress, legs hanging off of the bed as you still sat on him. trailing kisses down his body, you stop at his chest. “can i continue..?” “i need you to continue..” bill spoke with a breathy voice, he was needy, and was reallyyy into whatever you’re doing.

guiding your mouth towards one nipple, you take a lick and look up at bill’s face who’s eyes are squeezed shut and mouth agape. you further nip at the left bud while rolling the right between your index and thumb finger, almost pinching it.

switching from doing that, you suck on the skin around his nipples that cover his chest, leaving many hickeys. the both of you not caring where, just as long as they’re there.

you continue this stimulation until you feel bill shake under you. your body jolts up and looks down at bill. “bill! a-are you okay??”

his chest rises up and down, hard. arms raised above his head as he attempts to hide his face between that and the bed. his nipples were puffy and more swollen. the once small buds were now a tad bit larger than before, and you somehow made a ring of hickeys around his left nipple. the purple and blue discolouration decorating his pale skin, some of them following up his neck.

he’s a total and utter wreck.

not to mention, you look behind you as you feel a certain grinding at your butt and a wet spot that has developed on his jeans particularly near his crotch.

did he, did bill come by just having his nipples touched?

you laugh and giggle, bill playfully hits your chest, “you came!” “i-i know! god, so embarrassing..” “didn’t know my boyfriend was so sensitive,” “it felt really good.. i have to admit.” bill then brings your hand to unzip his jeans.

“now, let’s worry about this problem down here.”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

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myouicieloz · 7 months

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Until you come back home

Minatozaki Sana x reader

Synopsis: Sana meets you when you come to Seoul to present her company's new American shareholders, falling for you immediately. You get married and have plenty of ups and downs until your marriage finally seems to get happy and stable. That is, until she realizes her son looks exactly like her best friend and shareholder, Momo.

Warnings: g!p Sana, g!p Momo, cheating, toxic relationships, drinking, pregnancy, children (?), cursing. they’re all little shits. if any of that doesn’t appeal to you pls don’t read it.

Word count: 6.6k

Notes: this is v messy, but I wanted it to be messy. it was written in a different style, but that’s because I wasn’t supposed to explain reader and sana’s entire relationship... I understand this can be an unpleasant topic so pls remember it’s only a work of fiction; I don’t condone toxic relationships or any type of cheating. Also I wanted to say this was supposed to be 600 words long n i do hate myself

Sana knew you were special from the first time you entered the room. You were tall, lithe, and imposing—your presence immediately making everyone’s eyes dart around your curves and exquisite appearance. You entered the company—her company, like you owned the place, making it your personal runaway as you paved your way through the hallways, bored eyes critically judging each and every spot of the building like nothing you’d see there would ever surprise you.

Their attention was all on you, from the moment you placed your papers on the table to the last minute of the conference. There was something about the way you held yourself: as if no one was worthy enough of more than a few seconds of your attention. You’ve barely given her a proper look, which fueled a fire within Sana. How could you not immediately fall on your knees for her? She was The Minatozaki Sana, after all: CEO and biggest shareholder of JYP Entertainment. People fought for a single second of her attention, a mere look from her making them immediately do anything she commanded. Yet, you didn’t pay her anything further than a polite, professional conversation, as if she gave a fuck about the meeting. It hurt her pride to have you look so uninterested in her presence, your posture perfectly contained as you took whatever criticism she’d made about your presentation with a neutral face. Of course, you’d exposed your points with excellence, but that wasn’t in the matter anymore: Sana wanted to bring a reaction— anything, out of you… and if she had to use humiliation to get it, then she’d gladly do it.

It was on that very moment, once you were done with your lecture over the potential American shareholders for her Korean-japanese company, that she decided to have you to herself.

Sana had to admit she was a complete jerk, though, being too harsh with you as she gave you her immediate feedback. However, it wasn’t like she was the one to blame for that: it was you who provoked her, trying to act all indifferent and unbothered. You deserved it.

Deep down, Sana knew this wasn’t the simple game she was used to playing whenever people wanted her attention. You genuinely couldn’t care less about her— yes, she was ridiculously hot, but so were thousands of people in your life. Besides, she was too full of herself to your liking.

That aroused her. Secretly pleased her, too.

Still, you didn’t indulge her obvious offense at the conference room, simply nodding and waiting for her employees to leave so you could too.

“I will make sure to take your words further to the shareholders, Mrs Minatozaki. Have a pleasant evening.” You told her, returning her smile with an even more poisonous one.

She could go fuck herself for all you could care.

And so you left, leaving Sana urging to get under your skin and your sheets, the image of your disdained face etched in her brain.

Minatozaki Sana made the transactions to the shareholders way more troublesome than and they should have been. The woman made sure you (and she accepted no one else) flew to Seoul a ridiculous amount of times over months to gather little documents, deliver signatures or simply discuss frivolous contract lines that could’ve been solved with 1 hour long online meetings. It delighted her to see you in tight pencil skirts, discussing whatever she problematized as if Sana wasn’t being the biggest bitch on earth. Not once did you complain — not to her, not to her employees, who you’ve made acquaintances with from how often you saw them. Instead, you played along in her game, returning her poisonous stares with equal fire. You were getting paid to travel, attend luxurious hotels and work significantly less, since your bosses had assigned you to focus solely on this specific matter. Sana might be a bitch, but you could sure benefit from it.

In fact, the unbuttoned shirts and the low necklines you wore were all for her. You enjoyed how worked up she got with the minor things you did. You weren’t stupid: you knew she wanted you, and you partly enjoyed teasing her, too. It was only a matter of when. Which was why, when the woman finally asked you out on a date, you shrugged, agreeing on it without much excitement. The contract was almost closed, and you’d finally be free of this terrible city. You hated Seoul: the cold bothered you too much and the people were much more reserved to your liking, a clear contrast to your beloved San Francisco.

She took you to a fancy restaurant (since, naturally, Sana only went to the best.), and you were surprised, perhaps a bit bitter, too, to know that she was a surprisingly interesting woman— not quite the shallow bitch you first thought. She liked art, nature, movies and she listened to you attentively too, not like people would usually do. It was like she actually listened, and you felt completely exposed at her gaze. Soon enough, you’d spent hours talking to her freely, finding yourself enjoying the evening. It was a pleasant surprise, to have a nice night in Seoul for once. Besides, it was only for some fun, and you were pretty convinced she only wanted to get under your panties because you didn’t pay her that much attention ever since the two of you met. You’d soon go back home and forget about it, so why not? She was a pretty and successful woman, after all.

Besides, Sana did know how to fuck a woman, you got to give her that. You let her drive you safely to your hotel, so it was only natural you invited her over for some fun. She fucked you senseless, her big cock thrusting hard and without mercy onto you until your throat was raw from screaming and moaning her name for hours. You hated to admit, but it was indeed the best sex of your life. Only because of that, you decided to accept her request for a breakfast date before you parted to the airport, surprised she was not disinterested after getting the attention she so desperately wanted. Hadn't she proven her point, already?

Thankfully, you’d soon return to San Francisco, and the little rendezvous would soon be just a fun story to tell your friends on a night out. You said your goodbyes to the woman (and of course, you fucked again; as if you’d ever waste the opportunity of having a good fuck. The café’s bathroom was a bit too small, but you made it work. You fell apart at her cock just the same, the intense orgasm shuddering you.) and made your way back home, feeling content to be back.

You should’ve known a woman like Minatozaki Sana was not one for leaving things behind. Before you knew it, she was coming to your company personally (to discuss critical matters, she explained, as if you were stupid enough to fall for that), and you found yourself under her once again. You quickly learned the two of you were just about the same: proud, cocky, impatient and spoiled women, both used to getting things your way without much effort. Which was what got her so into you, you think. The chase, the game. Sana enjoyed chasing you, but —and she hated to admit that— she also loved how, you always provoked her back.

You were both fire, fighting just as much as you fucked. Sana was too possessive for her own good, making sure no one even paid you such thing as a light stare. She spared no efforts into humiliating and firing anyone who dared to do so, anyway: You were hers. Her jewel, most prized possession. And she’d make sure every single person knew it. That you were hers only to toy with, love and ruin.

All to herself.

On the other hand, you were just as possessive, engorging her with your bratty and insufferable persona. You just had to have things your way, and you made sure Sana gave you just that. Battling lashes, sweet looks, lusty promises… You’d give her anything to have her completely under your mercy. Every so often, it worked: she’d quickly oblige and do whatever it was that you wished her to. Other days, however, she’d shut you down, making you gag on her cock until the only thing on your mind were a series of phrases that made sure you were reminded of who owned you and who fucked you best.

You were always quick to make Sana the crazy one in your fights with your manipulative persona, rambling to your friends about how possessive she was, as if you weren’t just as crazy. After all, being snobby, full of yourself, impatient and spoiled were all traits you never denied having. You were a menace, a nightmare hidden by long, soft curls and an angelic face. You knew what you wanted, and you’d always do anything to have it. At least Sana made her personality clear, no gaslighting involved. You, on the other hand, thrived on it. On making her look like the crazy one (not that she wasn’t; you just weren’t the angel you so painted to be, either).

She offered you a crazy salary to have you working for her firm, which you repeatedly denied — even if the zeros kept adding. Again, you weren’t fond of Seoul, and the thought of leaving everything behind: your friends, your sisters, California… she’d have to do better than simply coming to your firm and fucking you crazy good until she had to go back to her normal routine, if she wanted you to follow her to a whole other continent.

To which, of course, she did. Sana would spend as much as needed to have the things she wanted, and currently, she wanted you.

After months of romantic getaways, taking you to balls and ceremonies so you’d get to know her employees and investors, massive bouquets handed by your doorsteps daily, talking to your friends and family (the hardest part out of all of it, Sana would always say) so they’d convince you to try out the new opportunity, secretly begging you to join her in Korea every time you were just about to reach your high whenever you fucked… You’ve made her work for it, surely.

Eventually, she won: within a year or so, you had a fancy ring on your left hand— since you’d told her it was either marriage or nothing, and Sana was quick to comply. — and you found yourself moving all the way to Seoul, to join your fiancée and her company.

You finally got to meet her friends and shareholders: they were wary of you, naturally, but were still pretty polite and welcoming. Not that it bothered you; you had better things to worry about than seeking Sana’s childhood girlfriends’ approval. If they didn’t like you, they’d have to talk to Sana about it, and nothing would be done, since the woman was crazy about you. In the end, it didn’t matter.

You did get close to Nayeon and Momo as time went by, though. You worked in the same section, and would often gossip in fancy cafés after work. They were the only ones you genuinely liked in this cold city, the only ones interesting enough for you to listen to. It pleased Sana, to see you putting an effort into being close to her friends, which you enjoyed, too, since you loved to please your fiancée.

Things were working out just fine: you were still adjusting, but slowly learning to enjoy your current life and the newly made changes.

It was only natural that you fell into a routine. A few months into the marriage, you and Sana were both too stubborn to sit and talk things out, only presenting each other with confrontations and cold shoulders instead of communicating.

You were constantly mad at her for spending so much time at the company, flirting with her coworkers and being such a whore when she was yours already. Everything irritated you: from the whole floors she’d let you redesign, the outdated furniture and, mostly, all the bastards that worked there and had you competing for her attention, just as you knew she liked it. She was such a bitch, thriving with the feeling of being wanted by many and loving the attention.

Not even having Sana fire her old secretary (that fucking whore who was always presenting herself to your wife) had made that uneasy feeling leave your guts. No matter how hard you worked, how many new places you saw, the itch in your skin wouldn’t go away, never allowing you to truly rest and relax.

So you distracted yourself with other things, much to Sana’s dismay.

In response to getting on your nerves daily, she’d shower you with gifts and affection until you were satisfied enough for your fake pout to go away. You’d fuck, sleep, and the cycle would restart on the next morning.

Oddly enough, you found it comforting. You knew Sana would indulge your wishes, regardless of what other people though about it, and your dynamics provided you with the stability you so desperately—and unknowingly, craved, even if it wasn’t exactly healthy.

“I want a child.” You told her one day, sitting idly in her lap as you rearranged the pens on her desk. They were always messed up, stacked in the wrong color order and in the wrong place; too close to Sana’s computer, just waiting for her clumsy hands to drop them.

Sana’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I want a baby.” You repeated, scoffing. Sweetly enough, your hands traveled through her neck and hair, trailing wet kisses against her jaw. “Your stupid accountant is even in a license after his wife popped out one. I want it, too. Give it to me.”

Sana laughed at your comment, lifting your chin so you’d look at her properly. She knew it wasn’t good to indulge such behavior, specially since you could be even worse when you wanted to, but she couldn’t deny it: she loved it. Sana could feel her cock getting harder by your pettiness; the way you were always immediately extra sweet to her after being mean to everyone else. All hers, indeed.

“Can’t you wait a little more, love?” She asked you, twirling a strand of hair out of your face. You rolled your eyes even harder, pushing her shoulders to get off her lap. If she wasn’t going to do what you wanted her to, then there was no reason for you to waste your time being in her office at all. Her strong hands flew to your defined waist, though, keeping you in place. “It’ll be summer in just a few months, and you know how crazy things get around here with promotions and overnight meetings, to decide the groups’ comeback strategies.” Sana’s hands squeezed your thighs, making you whine. “Come on, princess. Don’t be mad, ok? I just want to dote on you the best I can. I can fill you up now, though. You’d like that? Want me to breed you full?”

You nodded, eager to have her cum. Soon enough, she had you completely stretched for her; your long, acrylic nails scratching her back without care as she pounded on you so hard her desk ornaments all fell to the ground, the sound of her thrusts echoing loudly through the room. You didn’t care— if anything, you wanted all of her employees and coworkers to know she belonged to you just as much as you belonged to her, too. You hummed with satisfaction as you felt her cum welcome your insides, your pleading forgotten for now.

You’d handle it later. It wasn’t like she ever said no to you anyway.

Your wishes died soon enough.

As summer came, Sana’s workload got her so immersed in her job you barely saw her anymore; she left home early and arrived late, always murmuring she was too tired to even talk to you about anything. You knew she wasn’t that busy— you still worked at the same company, no matter how shorter your work hours were compared to hers. She made little to no effort to go to your daily lunch dates, and didn’t even seem fazed by your cold shoulder.

“You should just talk this through.” Nayeon told you, fixing the papers in her desk as she listened to your rambling. “Tell her what’s bothering you, Y/n. I know she’s playing into your game, but Sana’s not an oracle either; you have to tell her how you’re feeling if you want it to work out.”

You sighed, knowing your friend was right, but didn’t follow her advice either way— too proud to talk to your wife. Her indifference stung, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. She refused to indulge in your usual little fights and arguments, too busy with work to focus on your relationship.

You still fucked like rabbits, even though you refused to moan her name— knowing how she specially liked how vocal you were, and she insisted on marking you a little too harshly. It was a tiring cycle, one of not speaking to each other at all, not even about work related stuff, but none of you seemed willing enough to solve it out.

You noticed her coming home even later than usual, disheveled hair and smelling like different perfumes each time. You weren’t stupid: the almost unnoticeable lipstick stains in her shirts were clear evidence of her heavy “work” load. Still, you refused to simply ask for a divorce and move on with your life. You loved Sana, and you’d stay with her, whether it was good for both or not.

She belonged to you, you’d soon remind her of it. Even if it were to make her life a living hell.

You didn’t keep your promise. Eventually, your energy drained out, and you were no longer interested in playing the coy game. Nevertheless, you were far from your friends and family, living in a cold, harsh city you openly hated. Without Sana’s warmth, you felt fragile and alone, not quite knowing what to do in your massive—yet empty apartment when you left work each night.

That’s how Momo found you: alone in your living room, a cheap wine in hands and smudged makeup. Momo had never seen you like this, not since you’ve become somewhat friends, sharing the same workplace. She was so used to your confident, manipulative persona she forgot you had feelings as well.

It was on that moment she realized it was all a façade, carefully made to protect your sensitiveness.

You threw yourself in her arms, sobbing on her shoulders for hours before your cries were finally resolved to tiny whimpers and your heartbeat was steady again. Your head hurt badly, and you felt like your body was going to explode, but Momo was patient enough to wait for you to calm down a bit more before talking to you.

As she ruffled your hair to soothe your deep nerves, you took a deep breath before telling her everything: how your relationship was going downhill, how much you hated Seoul and missed California, how lost you felt, and specially, how you couldn’t let Sana go, no matter how much you wanted to. You hadn’t realized how much you simply needed for someone to see completely through you until you felt Momo’s comforting embrace, her soft questions and hums as you just kept on talking and talking.

She was a good listener, letting you talk your heart out before saying how strong-willed you were and how she was pretty much inspired by your powerful aura. Momo told you to take your time with everything— including Sana, and take little steps. Everything was going to turn out just fine, she assured. You nodded at her small speech, thankful to have her by your side, and truly not knowing what you would’ve done if she hadn’t come to your apartment that night.

Which, now that you thought about it further, was pretty odd. Odd of her, to visit your apartment on a late Friday night, knowing you were all alone.

She blushed violently when you pointed that out, stuttering to explain she had noticed the change on your behavior and wanted to make sure everything was alright.

However, you weren’t thinking straight anymore. Pulling her by her necktie, you kissed Momo hard and urgently. She tried to resist it, at first, grabbing you by the shoulders and reminding you this was wrong: you were her best friend’s wife, for God’s sake. You only sighed, though— too lost in pleasure, with your head light and hazed.

You murmured she was right, because she was: this was so dirty, so wrong, but it wasn’t like Sana was not doing the same thing out there, either. You weren’t stupid, and that’s what you reminded Momo, who tried to keep you still in her lap as you pressed your butt into her already hardened cock.

It was the first time you openly acknowledged your wife’s escapades, and you knew Momo was aware of them since the beginning— and still hadn’t told you. You understood, of course: before being your friend, she was Sana’s childhood soulmate and shareholder. She would always be first in Momo’s priorities.

But it gave the raven-haired woman no right to say anything about being in the wrong.

And you were so needy and fucking horny, you couldn’t even think straight. If Momo didn’t fuck you at that very moment, you’d surely get out and find your fun elsewhere.

Her eyes darkened as you told her just that, hands interlocking your wrists above your head as she pinned you down on your lavish sofa. Momo allowed you to slip your tongue in her mouth, moaning when you kept pressing yourself on her, giggling as you taunted her. She gave in, fucking you messily and with a whole amount of guilt as she made your cunt her own personal cumdump.

You felt so good, though. Just as she dreamed of ever since she’s had her eyes on you, on that very first meeting Sana had claimed you as hers. It had been impossible not to.

No matter how much Momo loved and respected her best friend and your relationship, it never kept her from jerking off at the thought of fucking you in every position possible. Not when you always went to work in those shirts that evidenced your perfect breasts, or when you wore shorter, revealing skirts simply because you could, pulling it off flawlessly and with much elegance.

It was so wrong, but she jerked off hard to her dirty thoughts every time.

At this point, Momo’s body moved on its own, desperate to breed and take care of you. She was blinded by pleasure, both hers and yours— with your loud moans and pleads. She knew there would be consequences, but she wouldn’t take it back. Your pussy felt too good, hot and welcoming for her to worry about that.

It could wait. All of it.

At least you though so, rolling your eyes as you reached your high for the first time of the night.

It was clear something had changed after that. If you weren’t speaking to Sana before (as you often did, whenever you played your twisted little games), you were actively avoiding her, now; Your eyes would never meet hers, and you’d mumble an excuse to leave the room as soon as she entered any place. You and Momo hadn’t talked about it, either. Neither of you wanting to acknowledge said episode.

What surprised you was your wife’s attentiveness, as she suddenly wanted to clear it all up, calling you to her office after lunch break.

“Something’s wrong.” Her tone was sharp, as she stared right through your soul. You sent her a look just as sharp, eyebrows furrowing in disdain. Long gone was the crying, broken woman of days prior: your impeccable self was as strong as ever.

“Something has been wrong for fucking months, Mrs. Minatozaki.” Sana clenched her jaw at your way of addressing her, your voice dripping venom. However, she knew better than to pick on little things when there was still so much to unravel. So she gulped, trying to stay calm.

“Busy months, indeed.” She answered, with a neutral face.

You rolled your eyes, getting up from your chair. “So I’ve seen.”

“I didn’t give you permission to leave, Y/n.” She said, just as you reached for the door, making you clutch your fingers to keep them from scratching her face nastily.

God, she knew how to get under your skin.

“I don’t need your permission, Sana.” You muttered, gripping hard on the doorknob as you turned around, facing her front. Your bodies were close, making you instinctively try to get some distance, failing as you were already pressed to the door.

“You don’t?” She feigned innocence, her grip tight on your neck like a collar; not yet keeping you from breathing, but her long fingers were sure threatening to do so, running lazily through your neck. “It’s Mrs. Minatozaki to you, dear.”

You left her without an answer, storming out of the room before you had the chance to give in to lust and just fuck your problems out, like always.

It surprised you to see her home so early, a nonexistent occurrence in the last few months. Still, you said nothing as Sana entered the bedroom and took out her coat, placing it in her closet. Your eyes are trained on the TV, even though you were no longer paying attention to the program playing— your body was all tensed up, watching her every move from the corner of your eyes.

“So you do know your way home before midnight.” You teased as she turned the tv off, staring at you in the middle of the room with crossed arms, “And here I was, questioning your intelligence.”

Sana scoffed, sitting beside you. She took a deep breath before starting, eyes locked on the ground.

“Those months have been busy at the company. I know I’ve been neglecting you, us, and I’m sorry.” She turns to look at you, and you surprisingly see sincerity in her eyes. “I’ll do better.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but you knew it was the best acknowledgement you could get out of her, currently. So you hummed, tracing her clavicle with your fingers.

“I want a better apology, then.” You demanded, even though you allowed her to scoop you up on her lap, trailing kisses through your neck. Your guilt was eating you alive, but you only gulped in hopes to swallow it away; you wouldn’t say anything unless she did it first. “Apologize for leaving me here all alone, when you promised not to.”

You hated how your voice quivered, betraying you to announce to your wife how hurt you truly were. You’d rather to have never met her— this way, you wouldn’t be so heartbroken. By her betrayal, by her broken promises of never leaving you on your own in this new, terrifying city.

Most importantly, you hated how ardently you loved her.

“I’m so, so sorry, my angel.” Sana muttered, kissing you deep each time. Her hands cupped your breasts and you could only think about how much you craved her touch—starved for it for so long, and how much it burned. “I missed you so much. That fucking company will never keep me too busy for you again, I’ll make sure of that. I’ll just fucking remind them who owns it when they start to get on my ass again.”

Her words were filled with sincerity, you could feel it through the way she held you: hard and urgently. You couldn’t stand it anymore, though. It was suffocating, poisonous. You forced yourself off her lap, pushing your body towards the end of the bed as much as you could without falling.

“You’ve been with others.” It wasn’t a question, and Sana knew it. She didn’t deny it, either. The older woman knew you, and you wouldn’t say something like that if you weren’t sure of it.

“I have.” She nodded. It hurt like hell to have her finally admit it, but again: you were no saint, either.

You closed your eyes, playing with your shirt to avoid her gaze. She was staring at you vividly, now. “I have, too.”

The room went quiet, and Sana could swear all the wall colors were red. To think someone had touched you skin, your thighs… your cunt, her cunt. It made her want to burn the whole city down.

How dare someone to fucking touch you, her angel. Her fucking wife.

“Who?” She asked just as quietly, but you knew better than to be relaxed at her passiveness. You knew how Sana’s cold, calculating posture was a hundred times worse than her explosive tantrums.

You are to blame. you wanted to yell at her, shaking her by the shoulders until you lost your energy.

I know. she’d answer. But so are you.

A broken marriage, indeed.

“Momo.” At least you felt like you were a thousand pounds lighter, even though Sana’s stare was strong enough to set the whole Seoul on fire. You waited for her to say something, anything, but the silence remained. “Are we over, then?”

Your tone was frail, filled with uncertainty. Despite it all, the last thing you wanted to do was let go of her. Your eyes were glistening with tears as you felt her arms embracing you again, trying to take deep breaths to keep yourself from crying. If the first tears fell, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were sobbing hard.

“I was serious on our wedding day, angel.” She said, her tone calm as she caressed you hair, ever so gently. “I’m not letting you go, and this won’t break us apart.” Sana kissed your tears away, murmuring against your neck. “We’ll start again, ok? With no lack of communication, distance or cheating between us. I’ll commit to you, completely, just as you’ll commit to me, too. I won’t fail us anymore.” She looked you in the eyes, lifting your chin up. “What do you think?”

Your hiccups could be heard through all the apartment as you nodded, kissing her with love. Your relationship was doomed and so very broken, but you were determined to fix it up.

And you knew Sana was, too.

“I’d like that, yes.” She smiled as you shared another kiss, with her almost swallowing you whole as she whispered how much she loved you and how hard she missed you.

You fucked until morning, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you were glad to wake up to your wife by your side. Your heart no longer burned with her absence or with guilt, and you were both determined to fix all of the mess with new beginnings.

Sana would have to talk to Momo about what had happened, though.

“I have something.” Sana looked at you from her desk, confused. You were smiling brightly, which made her relieved, but she still couldn’t figure out what was going on.

Months passed since you had decided to give your marriage another chance, and it was actually more than ok. You were putting an effort into telling her whenever something made you upset— no matter how small and frequent the situations were. You were spoiled and one prone to conflicts, after all. — and Sana cut her work hours significantly after summer ended, with the plans for JYP’s groups’ comebacks being successfully concluded. Her flirting resumed, too, as did your provocations with her coworkers and employees. You were trying, both of you.

And you were finally happy after so many gloomy months.

“Ok…” She asked, turning her computer off as she motioned for you to continue. You placed a small box in front of her, giggling like crazy.

“It’s a gift.” You clarified, with Sana inspecting the box like it was going to explode at any given moment. It was rare for you to gift her something: she was usually the one doting on you constantly, just as both of you loved it.

“For me?” You were getting impatient with her shaking and feeling up the damn box, but let her have the moment.

“For us,” With your brows furrowed, you corrected her, “Although it was something I asked you for long ago.”

Finally, Sana opened your gift, revealing a small pair of shoes and a stick with two red lines marked up. Her mouth hung in a perfect “O” as she stared at your stomach, looking for a bulge that was still too small to notice.

“That’s…” She was still at a loss for words as she got up to hug you, lifting you up form the ground. “Are you happy, my angel? Is it what you want?”

You laughed, suffocated by her kisses. “I’m very happy. I’ve really, really wanted this for a long time, Sana.” You stopped her mouth from brushing your skin again to take a proper look at her face. God, she was so gorgeous. “Are you happy? Because if you don’t want a baby right now that’s ok, we can—“

“I’m in heaven, beautiful.” Sana gave you her brightest smile, glowing as much as you were. Her hands were evolving your waist, and she leaned to mutter against your belly. “I can’t wait to start a family with you. I love you so, so fucking much.”

You hugged her again, happy to have her by your side.

“I love you, Mrs. Minatozaki.” You teased her, laughing freely as she twirled you around her massive office.

“I love you more, angel.”

“Ben, please don’t run—agh!” You yelled at the energetic little boy. Four and a half, almost five years old, now. He pretended not to listen, though, trying to wriggle out of your touch to go back to terrorizing the guests. “Baby, please tell him not to run? He’ll fall like that, and it won’t be pretty. You know it.”

Sana smiled at your whiny voice, pecking your lips as she ruffled the little boy’s hair (earning herself another hard glare. You’d spent so long fixing his raven hair with gel at home.) with affection. “You heard your mom, bud. Save your energy for later, ok? We can play videogames when we get home if you manage to stay awake.” Your son’s eyes sparkled at the promise, making you roll your eyes and Sana giggle. He obviously wouldn’t make it, but the thought of being allowed to do something that was usually strictly forbidden was enough to get him to calm down, steady in his mother’s arms.

It was JYP’s New Years’ event, the big ballroom adorned with white and grey ornaments. Everyone seemed to have attended, this year: the place was already massive, yet it seemed cramped with the amount of people. Workers, idols, partners… everyone was apparently enjoying themselves, with lots of food and a sweet, along with some calming background music to soothe the nerves.

Sana walked around the place, greeting and making small talk with so many people she lost track of time. Being the CEO and biggest shareholder had its perks, surely, but having to waste such time she could use to be with her little family wasn’t one one them. The woman only relaxed when Dahyun scooped to her side, allowing her to sigh in relief.

“Not having fun, unnie?” She teased, nudging her friend.

“I don’t know how you do this so flawlessly, Dahyun-ah.” She complained, eyes darting around the room to look for you. Sana smiled when you tossed her your champagne glass from afar, on the other side of the ballroom chatting with a very excited Nayeon and Momo.

“It’s one of my many qualities.” Dahyun shrugged confidently, making them both laugh.

The woman caught sight of her son once again, now accompanied by a few of her employees’ children as well, as they ran through the waiter’s legs and almost made the poor man fall to the ground. They muttered apologies and extensive bows, but soon returned to run and giggle as the waiter dismissed them.

“He’s so tall already,” Sana complained, scrunching her nose. “I swear he’ll be taller than me before he even turns ten.”

“He will.” Her friend agreed, smiling at the little boy. “If he doesn’t get too tall, though, then he’ll have at least one thing similar to you.” Dahyun teased, smiling. Sana smiled back, too, even though hers didn’t quite reach her eyes. Dahyun didn’t seem to notice. “With his hair dark like this and that sneaky smile, he looks so much like…” she paused, trying to think of someone. “like Momo! Oh Sana, don’t you think? He’s exactly like her, all distracted and clumsy but so caring and loving. One would think they’re the ones related, instead of you or Y/n.”

Sana’s mouth tasted bitter, with her thoughts running inside her head at a hundred miles per hour. Dahyun couldn’t possibly know, but it wasn’t like she was lying, either. If Sana thought about it further, her son looked exactly like Momo, specially at this age. They all grew up together; of course Sana remembered her friend’s appearance and mannerisms.

And they were the copy of her son.

“Yes,” She answered, taking two drinks from the nearest waiter and downing them in one gulp. She tried to look for you in the crowd once again, but you were long gone, lost in the sea of people gathering in the middle of the dance floor. “You’re completely right, Dahyun.”

Momo had some explaining to do. And you did, too.

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singingcicadas · 2 months

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More thoughts on Cyclonus.

Nova's evaluation of him in this panel is brutally accurate. That last sentence. Ouch.

On the surface level Cyclonus appears to be portrayed as this stiff proud warrior with an austere, diehard take on his own internal code of honour and patriotism, but the more I think about it his actual character is pretty much the opposite? He doesn't have any hardfast values or stances of his own aside from shallow romanticism for the preachings of others.

His whole life is comprised of hanging onto other people. First it's Nova and his group, despite Nova and Jhiaxius looking down on him and insulting him to his face and being very forthright about the actual purpose of their mission, which Cyclonus apparently had different ideals about. Theoretically. But he didn't say anything after Nova corrected him.

Then it's Galvatron, after Galvatron backstabbed Nova. Even when Galvatron became increasingly unhinged and violent toward him and also started insulting him to his face, he still continued to follow Galvatron around because Galvatron's powerful, hope he stays on our side.

Then after he broke off from Galvatron post-Chaos Theory he joined the Lost Light, an Autobot ship, despite not liking Autobots, because it had something that he wanted: the chance to start again.

His defense for murdering all those people in Kimia is literally "he made me do it." That's all he can come up with. He even knows it's a bad excuse.

And he always corrects people when they assume he's a Decepticon. Here he directly says that he doesn't want to be a Decepticon. Why not, if he clearly admires their ideology?

One possible reason is maybe he doesn't like their ideology that much. Enough to romanticize it from a safe distance but not enough to commit to it himself (since doing that would force him to do actual introspection about his own role in what made the Decepticon ideology so appealing in the first place). Second reason's simpler: Decepticons have to wear inhibitor chips. No thanks. They're the losing side.

Once on board the Lost Light he followed Rodimus' command fine despite Rodimus accusing him of murdering Red Alert without any proof. Then after he developed a relationship with Tailgate, he put Tailgate up on a pedestal and made Tailgate the center of his universe.

But then there's also this 🔽 after he thought Tailgate dumped him:

I don't even know what he's trying to do there😂

His lack of true conviction is evident in the little things too: he thinks it's unethical for Rodimus to perform mnemosurgery on Tailgate while he's unconscious and unable to give consent but drops the subject after Rodimus distracted him with fireworks. He thinks that mutiliating an enemy's corpse is appalling but doesn't say anything when Rodimus said they were going to use Skip's corpse as a shuttle to get off Necroworld. It's Nautica who raised ethical objections, not him. He's supposed to be really religious but when the guiding hand did their big reveal at the end of Lost Light, he got nearly zero lines because of compressed screentime except to argue with Epistemus over sending Tailgate into danger.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Cyclonus is essentially a go-with-the-flow sort of person. Nothing he holds is uncompromisable. Not his ideals, not his values, not his pride, not his faith. To an extent, not even his love for Tailgate, at least not completely, because he left when Tailgate told him to leave even when he suspected that Tailgate was lying about not loving him without making more of an effort to understand why. It all depends on the person he's hanging on to at the moment. And his choice of which leader to follow is ultimately based on self-serving reasons. This pattern is first broken when he turns on Galvatron, then fully subverted after he learns to love Tailgate as a sign of character growth.

He's not an intrinsically cruel or callous person. The way he learns to love Tailgate, befriend Whirl, and being kind and supportive to everyone when Rodimus left him in charge on the Necroworld are all attestments of his better nature. Water takes the shape of the container in which it's kept; surround him with people like Galvatron and Nova and he'll be their murder machine. Put him in the company of people who's mostly decent like the Lost Light crew and he'll grow into a compassionate person and a reliable friend.

#transformers #idw transformers #maccadam #mtmte #Cyclonus

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readerwithsalt · 1 year

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Sun and the Star Review: (With snippets from the book)

Since I just finished The Sun and the Star I’m just gonna say the first thing I have a problem with is the TELLING and NOT SHOWING.

• And I was wondering if anyone thought that they made Will super lame and ooc compared to previous cooler depictions of him. Like he’s supposed to be Super Chill under pressure and the Calm Dude but he’s so WHINY the entire book. He’s constantly complaining, judging, screaming, crying or sleeping. The cool, chill vibe Will had before is gone which was one of the things I liked about him before.

• someone else said ‘Tsats Will thinks there’s something wrong with Nico, something wrong with his personality. Will thinks Nico needs to be “fixed” and “healed” and so he can be “normal” and then Nico will be actually appealing to Will. Tsats Will may love some parts of Nico (or at least thinks he loves some parts of Nico). But there are more parts of Nico that Will finds unsavory or unnerving or scary or unsettling or unsatisfactory or unappealing’ I agree sadly

• Like he tells Nico in the beginning of the book that he’s just as capable of survival as Nico (which I snorted at cause no) and then is the hugest burden I’ve ever seen on a quest EVER in a riordan book. Like Nico tries to lift Will up every time he passes out from ‘lack of sun’ (which is so stupid btw) and Nico can’t lift him up cause he’s not strong enough so he’s constantly WAITING on Will. And it’s really boring to read about how every few seconds Nico has to turn around and let his boyfriend catch up.

I think Will’s character could have shined and been more likable in a completely different plot and quest.

Like, I thought since they weren’t giving Will any weapons that his strengths would lie in being the fast athletic character that didn’t need a magic item in order to show off…

• the whole ‘role reversal’ caretaker thing made Will look completely useless. Nico did 80 percent of the work and Will sadly fell flat. I thought he was coming along to keep Nico safe and to heal him when he got injured but Nico was pretty much doing almost every job. It was like he was riding Nico’s coattails to become a ‘hero’ and prove himself. But he didn’t really prove anything except that he complains a lot when things get rough.

They didn’t give Will a character weapon (even Piper has one and she doesn’t fight that much. Neither does Leo and he at least uses a hammer) they made him exhausted the whole book so he didn’t have his normal physical strength, his backstory was also pretty boring.

• and Will keeps randomly getting irritated at Nico bc Nicos irritated at him. Like?? Your shitting on his underworld home every chance you get. I’d be irritated too.

• in previous books he’s described as an archer. Even tho Leo calls him ‘the archer dude’ in TLH he suddenly doesn’t know how to use a bow AT ALL. He only said he wasn’t as good as his siblings not that he was complete shit at it. Previously he used a bow and had a dagger in BOO. Also will randomly says he never wanted to be a fighter and loved healing but in previous books he’s insecure about just that. Also the book forgets Will is a BATTLEFIELD MEDIC. Like he can fight and heal just like Apollo.

• Will whines constantly. And it’s grating and annoying to read. Either about the lack of sun (you knew what you were getting into dumbass) or the dead people walking around or about Nico’s horrible ‘darkness’ that he has to heal. It’s like he never thinks of Nicos feelings when he says stuff. And there little ‘fights’ end unsatisfactory.

• The vibe of Camp-Half-Blood is nonexistent. It does not feel like camp at all. It feels like we’re in a 12 year olds fanfic mind. ALL of the campers are gone even though it’s been established MANY are orphans and we see no beloved background characters and background chaos that makes us smile like in the past books. It made me surprisingly more depressed than I thought it would.

• it’s also missing the mystique of a quest. Like going up to the big house to have the quest recited around a table full of cabin counselor demigods all fighting to be the third member to prove themself a hero (mostly the ares cabin) no matter how important a quest in pjo was for Percy Chiron ALWAYS enforced certain rules. Even if they broke later on.

• Loose Ends. Reyna is. Not. Mentioned. Once. It never comes up how Nico feels about his big sister friend joining the hunters like his other one did even tho in BOO he tore apart a courtyard cause they took her. The girl whose shoulder he cried into, the girl who was with him during his last quest. The girl who thought of him as a little brother and tucked him in her cape and said he resembled his surname as he slept.

Hazel is mentioned… but it’s literally just a couple shallow mentions that don’t have anything to do with the fact that he may not ever see her again if he revisits Tartarus. He mentions his beloved little sister who was the actual first light in his life (don’t know why the book says Will is) in a long time only once and it’s because he can’t remember something and thinks Hazel would?? It’s weird that he iris messages Piper at the end instead of Hazel. I thought that’s what he was going to do and then it was just a big cringe fest of Piper shoved in at the end talking about the label of her sexuality?? Like we actually care??

And It’s never stated that Nico finds out where Jason is even though HE SHOULD KNOW. He literally talks to Beckendorf and Luke when they die in pjo to find out where they went but he can’t figure out where his best friend is??

Also at the end of the book it says Nico still hasn’t redecorated his cabin even though he told Jason he was going to a YEAR AGO bc the ‘decor was disgusting’ (I think that was the worst loose end not fixed 😂)

Every other relationship of Nicos is thrown away so he can admire Will Solace’s mediocrity. who’s kinda a loser in this tbh….

• The Percabeth scene was weird. What relevance does sally jackson have to Nico’s story? Why did he have to go all the way to Percy’s bedroom to iris message him?? And the fact he uses the ship name Percabeth to describe them (which he’d never done in previous books) proves a cringe fan is the one writing this.

The fact that they don’t OFFER TO HELP Nico is ooc of them. Bc even if Percy wants to chill at college he would never want Nico to clean up his mess without offering his help. Also the fact that Percy turns to Annabeth and says ‘oh man I forgot about him’ is like… WHAT?? And they just say oh yea if anyone can get through Tartarus it’s you two.

To Will who’s never been on a quest and doesn’t fight (at least in this book) that’s a weird thing to say. Percy and annabeth only survived bc they’ve fought together FOR YEARS. And bc of Percy’s big three power. It was just a forced add in cameo. Would’ve been better if they didn’t know till the end that Nico got Bob out and then they suddenly see Bob in an iris message and start crying or something…

• it broke my heart that Nico gave his SKULL RING to Will. The last gift from Bianca Nico ever got and he gives it to someone that doesn’t even appreciate his element.

And what does Nico get in return? A coin. I mean, an engraved coin but still. It’s kinda symbolic of the relationship. Nico giving Will something of such RELEVANCE to Nico’s character, something he’s always described with wearing and then Nico receiving a token in turn.

• Will asks Persephone how he’s SUPPOSED TO LOVE NICO. Like I almost blew up my house with me in it at that part. It never feels like Will is as attracted to Nico as Nico is to him. Nico instigates every kiss (which is ooc of him and his reservedness to touch). It seems Will likes to look at others a lot because one of Nicos insecurities were of him staring at fucking Paolo. While being right next to his boyfriend, Will checks out other people… Like Nico deserves so much better. He at least deserves respect.

I would’ve appreciated Nico and Ghost Jason way more than this shit. At least Jason described Nico better and they weren’t even dating. And I liked Solangelo before this. Will never describes physical attributes that he likes about Nico the same way Nico does about Will. Like Nicos inky dark eyes and baby bat winged hair, and his smile that is apparently like winter sun breaking through snow flurries, and his hair smelling pleasantly of rain against stone (I think Apollo is more attracted to Nico than Will is). But Nico has to call Will hot every five min.

• Also I simply don’t understand the idea that Will being away from the sun would drain him to the point where he can’t keep up with NICO’S WALKING PACE within a couple hours. Like the super athletic, physically strong character that can lift Nico over his shoulders and run with him (and Rachel in TON) walks into the underworld and has to be healed by a stupid portable night light within five minutes.

• Don’t even get me started on his JUDGINESS. I always pictured Will as the guy at camp that thought Nicos powers were cool and stuff, right? And now he just judges every ‘dark’ thing nico does like darkness is synonymous with evil. And only his light can heal him. I HATED that trope and honestly thought they would make him more original. But I have to say it: he was so boring. Like in a way that made my stomach hurt.

• Wills kind of a jerk in this. Like it’s weird to read.

• The PACING. It was off the whole book. The only part i enjoyed was the part where they didn’t know they were dreaming (that part got me) but that was it. But like gorgras scene keeps overlapping with the rest of the story and I kept forgetting my place. The fact that riordan or oshiro or whatever 12 year old fan wrote this put the words FLASHBACK & DREAM SEQUENCE over the chapters gave it SERIOUS fanfic vibes. The pacing is simply not suspenseful enough for a place like Tartarus.

• And do NOT get me started on Tartarus. Okay I’ll say it anyway: it wasn’t scary AT ALL. LIKE ANY OTHER QUEST. Actually it seemed easier than other previous quests which is a big nope. Hades might as well have sent him to Target.

• And about the fact that is was HADES who gave him that prophecy is SO OOC of him. He loves Nico. Nico is probably Hades most favorite child ever as of right now and he sends him horrible nightmares, and a prophecy respouted 12 times to get him to save Bob (whom Hades could care less about btw) and go back to a place that he knows haunts Nico every day MAKES NO FUCKING SENSE!

Also HOW did hades give Rachel that prophecy? He has no power over the Oracle of Delphi.

• Maria and Bianca MAKE NO SENSE! How in the hell is there any piece of thier souls left when Hades gave Maria ancient rites and was the one soul Nico was not allowed to see and Bianca reincarnated. WHICH WAS FORGOTTEN BTW. NOW SHES BACK IN ELYSIUM?? Like?? Like maybe I could see Hades letting Nico see a piece of Maria but Bianca is literally GONE forever.

Nico was ooc. Like not too badly but still bad. But the fact that Will didn’t let Nico shadow travel even once irks me. The fact Will didn’t let him summon Jules Albert irks me. The fact that Will kept brushing off nicos feeling about the underworld irks me. The fact that Will called Persephone the most beautiful PERSON he’d ever seen right in nicos face and then asked his (insecure) boyfriend if he was jealous irks me. The fact that Will is BORING AS FUCK irks me

• And the COMING OUT story. Horridly ooc. Nico shouting to the whole camp he’s gay and getting all the other kids to come out too is like??? and apparently he asked out Will before Will had even come out?? Nico would NEVER do that. Especially since not long before Cupid had done the same to him. And apparently Nico is like the first out character in a MODERN GREEK camp with DIONYSUS as a director. No.

In character Nico would’ve shadow traveled back to his cabin or the woods the moment he figured out what was happening.

• the nicknames are extremely cringe. Little ball of darkness is used to much and it made me itch. I think Will simply calling him babe or something would’ve been simpler and made them seem more like a real couple instead of a caricature of light and dark.

• ‘he’d always been the demigod who WOULDNT eat.’ ………..what the actual fuck is this. Nicos always been naturally skinny but being starved in jar is what messed up his hunger. Not that he WOULDNT eat. Why is everything always his fault in this book?

Like, he didn’t ‘LET’ himself get to the point of starvation over and over. I mean first of all he became homeless at ten years old, probably had to steal food items. And most recently he got KIDNAPPED by TWO GIANTS and starved forcibly. And then when he got out he was under so much stress of what just happened to him in Tartarus, the war with Gaea, his forced outing, and having to lug an enormous statue ACROSS THE WORLD. but nah, I guess he just LET all of that stuff happen to him

• the references are BAD. Out of touch bad. Unfunny and the joke never becomes a joke. It’s never explained how a kid from the 1930s knows how to use the internet and look up lil nas x in a camp that doesn’t use any technology. Doesn’t explain how Nico knows about Care Bear powers (I didn’t even know that) and the beginning scene with the Star Wars ‘joke’ set a weird tone for the book and wasn’t even funny.

• I hated the cocoa puff demons coming to live with Nico. Like I was fine they got created ig even tho it was weird and kinda dumb but the fact that Nico is so keen to have his worst memories and insecurities sleep in bed with him makes no sense once again. In character Nico would’ve burned them with hellfire.

• Also Nyx is a unfathomably weak villain. A PRIMORDIAL GODDESS that even ZEUS fears is taken down in two seconds. Also she’s just trying to get Nico ‘accept his darkness’. WHICH HE ALREADY HAS DONE. The moment he called himself The Ghost King in battle of the labyrinth at eleven years is when he truly accepted his powers and who he was. So… why is she even in the book in the first place??

• Also Will STILL insists it’s Nicos fault he wasn’t accepted. And that it was all in his head….

Also Micheal Yew was simply never mentioned again. Neither was lee fletcher. If they were I missed it.

There were a COUPLE of cute parts and lines but really this is simply too weird (and bad) to be canon to me. This book is just not canon. I see it as fanfiction from a random author that riordan probably let write the entire book or at least most of it. I think sadly riordan put his name on this for money and for fanservice because the writing is first draft material.

(And it kind of feels like they got this version of Nico and Will from cringy meme posts about them. Like, you know the ones where Nico’s all like ‘I am darkness, i am a vampire’ and Wills all like ‘come on, my uwu baby, no more shadowtravel for you, doctors orders~’ 🤣😭)

just because they thought that’s what the twelve year olds wanted and not realizing that a lot of those posts are simply made as a joke and not actually taken seriously in canon…. And that most people in the fandom thinks those are bad cringeposts

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anto-pops · 1 year

Text

Inherent Desires - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: After a draining week away from home with his fellow Aurors, the last thing Sebastian wants to do is sit through a damn dinner party with all of them in London. Lucky for him, your presence at the event gives him the perfect opportunity to do more entertaining things, like work you into a frenzy at the table.

Alternatively summarized as Sebastian wanting to go home and roll around in the sheets with you, but since he can't he settles for fucking you downstairs in his boss's house

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, mild voyeurism

I wrote this under the influence of Covid so don't look at it too closely. Full fic can be found here on Ao3!

Sebastian wanted to go the fuck home.

He hadn’t even wanted to attend his boss’s stupid dinner party. Hauling ass all the way to London didn’t sound remotely appealing to him, especially when he’d only just arrived home from Poland the night before. It was well after midnight when he’d apparated into the living room of your shared home, exhausted and craving your familiar embrace like a man denied water. You’d been asleep though, and before he had the chance to reacquaint himself with your body earlier that morning, he’d received the summons for a celebratory feast in his squad’s honor.

Why they needed to further celebrate taking down a dragon fighting ring, he didn’t know. His work was cut out for him despite the completed assignment; it just meant more paperwork, more meetings, and evidently more formalities that he didn’t care to entertain. You had convinced him to attend– if only because the whole soiree was in his honor. Sebastian’s absence would have been apparent and awkward to address later down the line.

You’d told him he could grouse all he wanted, and Merlin— was he succeeding. His arms were crossed loosely across his chest while he sat back in his seat, eagerly awaiting the end of the night with his lips pursed and his brows furrowed. Sebastian’s expression might have come across as focused and domineering to everyone else, but to you it just looked downright irate. His boss had to be getting to him after weeks of working together so closely.

How did the saying go again? Familiarity breeds contempt, or something like that. It seemed to fit the situation to a ‘T’.

No rational thinking could change the fact that Sebastian didn’t want to be here. Especially with you seated beside him looking ten different kinds of seductive.

You were positively ravishing. Donned in the silky, forest green dress that Sebastian had gifted you this morning, the material clung to your feminine frame like a glove and left little to the imagination. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands all over you– to finally satiate the undeniable urge to sheathe himself in your tight core once again. The most he’d been able to do was help you get dressed earlier, and the seductive drag of his fingers up your spine as he zipped you up had been enough to make his intentions clear to you.

There was a time and a place, however, and you’d told him as much with a sultry look before heading outside to the carriage. Since then, he was having a hard time focusing on anything else.

From his seat next to you, he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and the low hum of your ancient magic charged the air and made his hair stand on end. Sebastian had to dig his nails into the upholstery of his seat to refrain from touching you openly. The smell of your perfume was like an aphrodisiac after seven long, grating days spent away from it. Nevermind the flush on your cheeks from all the wine you’d consumed; it made you look all the more alluring, and the half-chub he’d been sporting was quickly becoming something bigger and more bothersome.

Sebastian considered his next move carefully, glancing around the comically large dinner table fit for a villain before he turned his attention back to you. Your arm was outstretched to accept another generous serving of red wine, your lips curling into a practiced smile as you murmured a low, “Thank you.”

Marlowe Selwyn, the host of the evening, chose that moment to charm away everyone’s dirty plates and replace the picked apart main course with an extravagant looking cake in the center of the table. Your eyes were wider than saucers as you took in the impressive sight, and Sebastian smiled despite his sour mood. Sometimes suffering through these things was worth it to see you so easily pleased. He knew you had a wicked sweet tooth.

He did too, if he was being honest, but the sudden realization that he would rather have you for dessert hit him like a steaming train, and his cock twitched in his trousers enthusiastically.

“Once again, a grand toast to Sallow’s squad for a job well done in Poland,” Marlowe announced, his bald head glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. The wine had to be warming him up thoroughly. “I’ve always had high expectations for you all and you never fail to impress. Here’s to many more successes in the near future, cheers.”

You lifted your glass in solidarity, watching as all the Auror’s around the table did the same as they hooted and hollered their agreements, when you suddenly felt a broad hand plant itself on your thigh.

When you glanced up, Sebastian was staring at you with a blank expression, but there was no way you missed the mischievous glint in his eyes. You shot him a sideways look of your own, biting your tongue to stifle a quip, but the brunet only huffed out an airy laugh under his breath. You brought your wine glass back to your lips to take a generous sip and school the building tension in your shoulders. It was pointless, however, seeing as Sebastian started to drag his fingers up your leg to gather the material of your dress into a balled heap.

You knew exactly what he was trying to do, and the thought made you flush deeper and shudder nervously. While your lower half was concealed by the table, there would be no hiding your reactions to Sebastian’s touch if he continued. Once he’d haphazardly pushed the majority of your dress up your legs to expose his target, you visibly tensed and dropped one of your own hands to grip his, anxiously looking around the room at the slew of tipsy Ministry officials who were none the wiser to Sebastian’s horny antics at the far end of the table.

Sebastian licked his lips in a bid to hide his cheshire-like smile while he watched you, noting your sharp intake of breath when he cautiously ventured closer to your nether region. Your back seemed to go rigid at the sudden attention, and he felt your nails dig into the skin at his wrist when he finally pressed his middle finger against your thin undergarments, sparing a quick glance down the row of seats to ensure he hadn’t been discovered. Marlowe was still talking, and his co-workers were preoccupied with watching him cut the massive cake, which meant he was in the clear for the time being.

Your wine glass shook in your hand when Sebastian trailed his finger down to seek out the tiny bundle of nerves at your center, causing you to whip your head to the side to stare at him unblinkingly. Your voice was low when you hissed out, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He shot back easily with a knowing smirk.

“It looks like you’re being incredibly careless. Knock it off, this isn’t the time–” you were cut off by your own gasp when he finally planted the tip of his finger against your aching core, rubbing firm, teasing circles around your clit through the cotton of your panties. You felt your face heat up as you shifted your hips back in an attempt to pull away from the abrupt pleasure, but Sebastian followed you easily. There was virtually nowhere for you to go to escape his brazen ministrations.

“What about you, Mrs. Sallow?” You heard Marlowe ask from the other side of the table, and you jumped slightly in your seat from having been quickly roped back into the moment at hand. “Have you given any further thought to my offer?”

Sebastian stilled his movements– just barely– so that he could glare fixedly at his boss. You had no idea what the man was even referring to, but clearly your husband did. Swallowing thickly, you released Sebastian’s wrist to gingerly set your wine glass down on the table, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sorry… what offer?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten! I’m referring to the Auror position– for you to join our ranks in the Ministry. Your abilities are squandered, my dear. Think of all the good work we could accomplish with the help of your ancient magic.”

Oh, right. That offer.

It wasn’t the first time Marlowe had pitched the Auror title to you, and something told you it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Your answer had never changed though; becoming an Auror was something you had decided against a long time ago, preferring to maintain your freedom to travel where you wanted, when you wanted. Besides, your exploration of ancient magic sites was far from complete, and with so much left to discover and unearth, you found yourself shaking your head through the lustful fog that clouded your mind.

It was far too difficult to keep your voice steady when Sebastian started pressing down on your clit again. Your voice was tight as you squeezed your knees together under the table, but he didn’t let that stop him. “I apologize, Mr. Selwyn, but I’m afraid my answer is still the same.”

Marlowe’s beady eyes narrowed scrupulously, and his lips pursed with obvious disappointment, but he gave you a firm nod all the same. “I see. Well… should you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

You were certain he didn’t mean for the statement to come out so suggestive, but you simply gave him a curt nod before turning your attention to your lap. The veins in Sebastian’s hands were swollen and apparent, his irritation with his boss palpable, but he rewarded your indifferent reply with a quick swipe up your dampening folds, and you had to bite your lip to refrain from moaning in earnest. This was a game you were quickly losing, and the growing fire in your gut was as intoxicating as it was sobering.

You were petrified of being discovered.

“Are you alright, dear? You look rather ill,” another one of Sebastian’s squad members asked you from across the table. You were positive you’d met the man before, but his name escaped your memory completely. In fact, your mind was utterly blank of any prudent information– save for the acute placement of Sebastian’s long, cunning fingers.

Dozens of heads swiveled in your direction to scrutinize your seemingly ‘ill’ appearance, and you hastily shoved Sebastian’s hand away from between your legs and tugged your dress down. “Yes, I’m fine. I suppose the wine is starting to get to me– please excuse me for a moment.”

You didn’t wait to gauge your husband’s reaction. Instead you swiftly stood from your seat, offering a polite smile to Marlowe and the rest of the attendees before you strode out of the dining room to head for the downstairs restroom. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble stairs filled the foyer– betraying your hurried pace and giving away just how desperate you were for a modicum of privacy. You shouldered the door open and closed it quickly, latching the lock into place before you turned to stare at your reflection.

Shit.

As if wine could make you look so frazzled. You were scarlett from head to toe, and your dress was mildly wrinkled in the areas Sebastian had bunched up and shoved out of the way to play with you. A nagging voice in the back of your mind threatened to brutalize him for nearly humiliating you in front of all his co-workers, but a louder, much needier voice was suddenly demanding that you leave with him to go home and make him finish what he’d started.

Up until now, you’d been fairly surprised with Sebastian’s restraint. You knew he was as eager as you were to fool around after such an abrupt and grating business trip, but he’d seemingly been on his best behavior all evening. You should have known his patience would run out before you even left London. He was way too predictable.

The distinct sound of a lock being charmed open reached your ears, and you stepped further into the dimly lit bathroom to prematurely glare at who you already knew had come searching for you. Sebastian poked his head through the entryway first, grinning diabolically when he caught sight of your unkempt appearance before stepping through the threshold and shutting the door– all without taking his dark eyes off of you.

“You have some gall, you know that?” You immediately started in on him, jabbing an accusatory finger in his direction while you raked your other hand through your hair. “Have you gone completely mad? Are you trying to embarrass us both?”

Sebastian adjusted the flared collar of his Auror coat with a smug expression on his face, shrugging nonchalantly as he leaned against the closed door. “I don’t think you realize how good you look tonight.”

“That’s hardly an excuse–”

“Yes it is. You’re distracting me. As soon as I got home last night, all I wanted was to be inside of you– frankly it’s unacceptable that I haven’t been yet. Then you go and wear something like this and expect me to eat Selwyn’s shitty dessert? I’d much rather have you.”

“I– but– you gave me this dress,” you stammered out indignantly, which only served to make Sebastian chuckle.

“I did, and you look radiant, make no mistake. I suppose it’s my own fault for insisting you wear it tonight.” He stepped away from the door, the predatory glint in his eyes deepening as he moved to plant himself directly behind you facing the mirror. “I thought I’d be able to hold off until later, but I don’t see that happening anymore.”

You watched through the reflection as Sebastion wound his strong arms around your midsection, tugging you flush against his chest so he could run his hands up your front. The closer he got to your breasts, the shallower your breathing became, and you reached behind yourself to place your palms against the brunet’s toned legs in an attempt to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian, not here. Merlin– what if Marlowe comes looking and walks in?”

He lowered his head to nuzzle his lips against your thunderous pulse, pressing wet, chaste kisses along the slender column of your neck. Once he found one of your pert nipples through the silky material draped over you and pinched lightly, your restraint started to slip away.

Then again, had it really been there in the first place? Your resolve where Sebastian was concerned was always about as strong as wet tissue paper. He knew exactly what buttons to press to get what he wanted from you, and you rarely had any complaints to voice after the fact– save for when he was acting like a complete prat in the process.

“If he does, then he’ll be the luckiest bastard alive for all of two seconds before I kill him.”

“Sebastian!”

“I’m joking, darling. I do hate the way Selwyn speaks to you, though. He’s too familiar with you for my liking.” He looked up at your flustered self staring wide-eyed at him in the mirror, dropping one of his hands to the space between your legs while the other trailed higher to curl around your throat, and your stomach flipped over on itself from the possessive hold he had on you. Sebastian’s hand tightened a fraction to press your head against his shoulder, leaving you arched deliciously across the front of his torso– and he swore up and down he wouldn’t be able to hold back, even if he wanted to. “Let me fuck you here. I’ll be so good to you, I promise. To hell with the party, we can leave right after.”

Your pulse fluttered beneath Sebastian’s broad hand as you sucked in a shaky breath, watching with rapt interest as his wandering fingers began tugging up the green fabric of your dress once again. The urge to stop him was nowhere to be found despite the circumstances, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you willed your brain to function rationally. “By that logic we could just leave now and spare ourselves the embarrassment of being caught. The carriage is literally waiting outside.”

Sebastian tugged your head back a smidge further to give himself easier access to lave his hot tongue along the shell of your ear, drawing a shiver from you that he felt reverberate through your prone form. “That line of thinking is flawed– I would still have to wait in that case, and if I have to wait any longer I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Shifting your feet to better support yourself, the tiny movement allowed your backside to rub perfectly against Sebastian’s painfully hard cock. You hadn’t doubted him in the slightest when he said he was impatient, but feeling his arousal pressed against your ass made his predicament all the more apparent, and you couldn’t help the slight smile that broke out across your face when his strained breathing fanned across your temple.

“Gods, do you want me to beg? Because I will, I’ll get on my knees for you here and now. Please darling– please let me– I need you so badly, you have no clue.”

The entire time he was talking, his hips were rocking against you– shamelessly deriving his own pleasure from the friction the movement provided. The entire display really had no business being so attractive, especially considering you were literally locked in Marlowe Selwyn’s downstairs bathroom. Much as you’d expected, however, Sebastian was working you into a tizzy with sorely little effort, and you were as keen to feel him as he was to feel you.

Sebastian hoisted your dress up your legs slowly, taking his time and observing your every reaction in the mirror with an intensity that made your head spin. “You’re certifiably insane, but fine,” you relented, dragging one of your hands in front of you to gingerly grasp Sebastian’s forearm. “We have to be quick though, I really don’t want anyone to come looking.”

With your dress hiked up mostly out of the way, Sebastian had enough leeway to run his palms up your bare stomach, gently scratching his nails along the soft, smooth skin as he went. “The absolute last thing I want to do is rush through this… you know I like to take my time.”

“Then save the rest of your horny fantasies for after we get home. Unless you secretly want someone to walk in on us. Are you that eager for your boss to see your cock?”

You felt Sebastian’s deft hand scale down towards your aching center once more– only this time he slipped the appendage under the thin cotton of your underwear, and his fingers were instantly met with your pooling slick. He practically guffawed at your taunt and flashed you a cunning smirk through the mirror, “Now who’s certifiably insane?”

“Still you. This was your idea, remember?”

He chuckled darkly against your ear as he finally slid one of his slender digits through your sopping wet folds, and the shaky breath you let out was like music to his ears. Your lips parted around a moan as he began working you open on his finger, your grip on his arm tightening just barely to keep yourself upright as you practically melted against his chest. Sebastian set an even rhythm, focusing intently on getting as deep within you as he could given the precarious angle, but he was utterly adoring watching you fall apart in the reflection of the mirror. There was no chance he would risk moving you around and lose his opportunity to witness your pleasure so closely.

Trailing hot kisses down your neck and across your exposed shoulder, Sebastian curled his finger inside your pulsing heat, pressing and twisting expertly inside of your familiar core to prepare you for what you both desperately wanted. Your airy whimpers bounced off the marble walls of the bathroom, imbuing Sebastian with a vigor that had his cock twitching avidly against your ass.

“I’ll make you feel so good, darling,” Sebastian murmured directly in your ear, subtly withdrawing his finger before plunging back in with a second. A keening whine slipped from your throat as you wriggled your hips back onto his fingers, the wet sounds reaching your ears and making you flush impossibly further. “I’ve wanted this since I left last week– you’re so fucking perfect, Merlin, the things you do to me…”

Sebastian’s praises had you sighing loudly, your resolve a thing of the past as you took in the sinful scene playing out in the mirror. His strong arm draped across your front to hold your throat effectively caged you to him, and his imposing stature behind you dwarfed you in comparison. At this point in your adult lives, he towered over you, and some inherent, primal part of you loved that fact.

Everything transpiring was almost enough to lull the two of you into a slower, more sensual pace, until the distinct sound of heavy footsteps from down the hall had you both tensing in place. You let go of Sebastian’s arm to cover your mouth, not trusting yourself to remain quiet without some help– especially because your husband didn’t stop finger fucking you. The conniving bastard flashed you a grin that said it all; he didn’t give a single shit if anyone heard you.

Maybe he really was an exhibitionist.

The footsteps got closer, closer, until they bypassed the bathroom entirely and continued further down the hall to enter a different room. You exhaled a breath that you didn’t know you’d been holding and let your hand slide away from your mouth, fixing Sebastian with a sharp look despite your disheveled appearance.

“Please Sebastian, hurry up,” you managed to squeak out through your tight throat. The pressure building in your gut was borderline torturous, and a wanton moan tumbled from your wine stained lips when he scissored his fingers right before he curled them again, fuck–

“Are you that worried about being caught?” He mused, his mouth watering hungrily when you turned your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“Yes,” you whispered against his heated skin. “J-Just– come on–”

Sebastian raised his shoulder to jostle you out of your hiding spot, swiftly capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that made your knees tremble and left your mind blank. His tongue delved deep in your mouth, tangling with your own as he swallowed every tiny mewl his fingers pulled from you. As much as he loved the prospect of teasing you, he was impatient too. Not as a result of being discovered— but because it had already been an entire week since he’d been inside of you— and the phantom feeling had haunted his every waking moment in Poland.

Licking his lips, his dark eyes hot with pure lust, Sebastian pulled his fingers from your throbbing cunt and carefully walked you forward so your hip bones were pressed against the bathroom counter. You felt his hands trail up your waist to tug down your undergarments, letting them fall around your ankles haphazardly. It seemed to pain him to step away, but he did it anyway to undo his belt and release his cock from the confines of his trousers and briefs altogether. It sprung free and he moved directly behind you once more, the lush feeling of his girthy member settling between your cheeks enough to make you twitch your hips back in a silent invitation.

Sebastian’s broad hands found your hips again, hastily moving your dress out of the way so he could grip you with a strength that had your mouth drying out instantly. “Do you think you can keep quiet or should I cast a silencing charm just in case?”

“Just shut up and fuck me already,” you growled over your shoulder at him. His throaty laugh was his only reply before you felt his weight settle over your back, his lips pressing soothingly against your shoulder as he slowly and carefully spread you open with his thick cock.

“F-Fuck, darling– you’re so warm–” he grit through his clenched teeth, barely restraining himself as he bottomed out and slid his sweaty palms up your body to feel along the sensual curve of your waist. Having the good grace to give you a second to adjust, Sebastian’s labored breathing filled the room, and your head fell forward between your shoulders at the overwhelming fullness you felt. “Is it okay?”

“Gods, yes–” you gasped out as he ground into you slightly. “Were you always this big?”

That was all he needed to hear for his patience to evaporate into thin air.

Sebastian’s hold on you tightened as he abruptly set to filling you in short, quick thrusts, using your hips as leverage to pull you back onto his cock. His eyes damn near crossed at the feeling— instilling you with the willpower to meet him halfway— and you started rocking back into him with stuttering, panting breaths as your eyes fluttered shut. For a few heated moments, all that could be heard were both of your throaty moans echoing off the bathroom walls, coupled with your needy pleas for “More, Sebastian, more,” which in turn had your lover growling as he started fucking you harder and deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was fucking intoxicating. You threw your head back with your eyes clenched shut, biting your lip to stifle a groan, and Sebastian took full advantage of your closer proximity to grab a fistful of your hair and yank you back towards him. His other hand stayed planted firmly on your hip, holding you steady as he railed into you in search of that magic spot that he knew would reduce you to a boneless heap. All you could do was grip the rim of the sink and pray to whatever higher power existed that you would make it through the night without being branded a harlot by your husband’s co-workers.

Leaning down to bite at the side of your neck, you heard and felt Sebastian’s raspy command against your sweat-slick skin, “Open your eyes and watch me fuck you– watch how good you look taking my cock– come on sweetheart, open those pretty eyes for me, please?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that?

You cracked open your bleary eyes to find Sebastian’s carnal expression fixed solely on you over your shoulder. The red flush that covered you from head to toe was offset by the dark green coloring of your dress, and your hair was beyond messy gathered in Sebastian’s unrelenting vice grip. In turn, he looked positively animalistic; still decked out in his Auror uniform, his appearance was incredibly striking, and the fire that burned behind his eyes was as commanding as it was reverent. He broke eye contact briefly to look down between you both– enamored with the way you seemed to suck his cock in deeper with every hurried thrust– and when he glanced back at your half-hooded eyes taking in the sight of him, he felt a pang of arousal shoot straight to his core.

“Merlin, you’re gorgeous. You look so pretty with my cock in you, darling,” Sebastian all but purred at your reflection, and the broken moan his comment elicited from you left him grinning like a madman. Your thighs shook with the intensity of your mounting pleasure, and he made a show of releasing your hip to drag his hand sensually down the front of your dress again. “You love it, don’t you? Being filled up by me with dozens of people around? You’re doing so good, I missed this– I missed you.”

The pointed thrust Sebastian bestowed on you did you both a slew of favors. Your eyes went wide and rolled closed as the head of his cock brushed past that hypersensitive spot deep within you, and your mouth fell open as a loud, unconcealed cry snaked its way up your throat. Slapping your hand over your mouth, you heard as Sebastian moaned at the way you squeezed around him, ramming his hips against you faster in a bid to fuck your orgasm out of you in rough, claiming thrusts.

Sebastian’s name fell from your lips again, muffled by your hand, and your legs quaked under you as you were rendered limp against the countertop. Your nails dug into the sides of your cheeks as you frantically looked towards the door– the knowledge that any one of the people here could walk in and find you setting your teeth on edge in ways you’d never anticipated. A deep rooted groan slipped through your fingers as you chanced a look over your shoulder at your husband with desperate eyes.

At this point, Sebastian knew your tells almost better than he knew his own. He released your hair from his fist to plaster himself to you, pounding his cock into your wet heat as he whispered, “Are you close, darling? Want to come?”

Nodding brainlessly, you gasped into your hand before you ripped it away from your face and slapped it against the counter, your nails scrambling to find purchase atop the smooth surface. You were getting close– so close– but you didn’t trust yourself not to wail out for more, so you just trembled beneath Sebastian and hoped that he could feel your looming finish.

His strong fingers flexed and dug into your hip as his other hand crept lower under your bent torso, seeking out your soaked clit expertly, and as soon as he found it, there was little time for you to brace yourself for the tight circles he brutally bestowed upon you.

“F-Fuck, fuck,” you cried out, eternally grateful to be half-laying on the countertop, because there was no fucking way your legs could support you through the blissful haze that clouded your mind. “Sebastian, please–”

It was too much. Your breath caught in your throat as you shivered, whining against the cool marble finish beneath you as Sebastian rammed into you, timing his thrusts with his fingers at your throbbing center. The filthy, wet sounds emanating from between the two of you made his head go completely empty, and he sank his teeth into your shoulder to stifle his own lustful groans as his hand between your legs picked up its pace.

“Come for me, love– come on my cock, please, I need you to,” Sebastian fucking whimpered against the spit-slick imprint of his teeth, and the tenor to his voice told you he was right there on the cusp with you.

The pressure from his fingers and his rough pace was more than enough to send you spiraling, and when you finally came, it took everything in you not to scream Sebastian’s name at the top of your lungs. You rode out the pulses of ecstasy with your tongue clamped between your teeth to fight the noises that threatened to give you both away, but the brunet had no such qualms and pumped into your tightening walls once, twice, then came with a guttural moan that echoed off the walls of the bathroom.

Sebastian muttered your name softly as he sucked in shaky breaths after a moment, rocking his hips into you until he’d emptied himself completely and you were nothing more than a frail, twitching heap under him. Your overstimulated walls seemingly clamped around him even more when he leaned forward to pepper featherlight kisses against your temple, wringing mind-bending waves of pure rapture from him until it started to hurt from how sensitive he was.

Sliding out of you with a contented sigh, Sebastian dotingly ran his hands down your sides to stir you from your post-coital stupor. You lifted your head to blearily stare at him through the mirror, doing your best to commit his fucked-out appearance to memory– and ironically, he seemed to be doing the same.

“What do you think?” He asked you after a few heated seconds. “Do you think anyone heard?”

He may as well have doused you with a bucket of ice water. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Miraculously, you found the strength to push yourself off the counter with quivering arms, grateful that Sebastian was there to steady you on your near boneless legs. “I’d rather not stay and find out, to be honest,” you murmured under your breath, and he chuckled as he brought his hands up to rake through his curly, mused hair.

“Fine by me,” he acquiesced quickly. “What do you say we bail and continue this at home? Preferably horizontally.”

This man and his one-track mind… you had to fight your smile with everything in you. “Don’t you think you should say something to Marlowe first?”

Sebastian scoffed as he stuffed his softening cock back in his trousers, then bent down to gently tug your underwear up your shaky legs. “Say what? ‘Thanks for holding us hostage for another day after practically living together for a week’ or ‘Sorry for fucking my wife in your downstairs bathroom, have a great night’? Doesn’t sound very appealing to me.”

“Fair enough… Irish goodbye then?”

Sebastian’s grin split his face as he cocked his head to the side, affectionately working to fix up your hair. He let his fingers trail smoothly along your jaw until they were under your chin, tilting your head up towards him so he could kiss you with zeal that left you excited to return home. The way his lips molded to yours was tantamount to perfection, and you knew then and there that you would agree to anything he asked of you. You’d missed him far too much to deny him a damn thing.

“Irish goodbye,” he agreed coyly.

You let Sebastian clean you up a bit more before he led you out of the bathroom and through the foyer, ignoring the direction of the dining room entirely in favor of the front door. Quieter than mice, the two of you escaped into the chilly night, laughing at the sheer absurdity of your antics the entire ride home. Sebastian’s wandering hands distracted you brilliantly for the bulk of the journey, and by the time you made it home, your earlier concerns had dissipated fully from your mind.

You never did find out if Mr. Selwyn or his party-goers were privy to your escapades after that, and quite truthfully, you didn’t think you ever wanted to find out.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x female! reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #my writing #you're married to Sebastian in this cause fuck it we ball #if you see any inconsistencies in this no you don't okay I had the brain power of a walnut while writing this

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the-oracles-maw · 3 months

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headcanons: miguel o'hara x aroace/aspec! SO

me, an aspec writer when there's no aroace/aspec Miguel x reader bc it's all either smut or angst:

from my previous comments I got on the first time I wrote this, people have pointed out that Miguel could very much be Demi, and I am all over that.

I mean look at the man, analyze the man. Behold: a man. He's juggling protecting multiple realities and commanding spider people from said realities. Finding a partner is probably the last thing on his mind.

Look, you know the man is sculpted to perfection. He reminds you of Michelangelo's masterpieces walking from their mantles.

That didn't necessarily mean you wanted to stick him inside of you or vice versa.

This? This doesn't make Miguel feel insecure in the slightest.

I headcanon that Miguel knows how good-looking he is. He's long grown numb to the stares from men and women alike.

You think this man's never seen a mirror before

Some bold sumbitches have probably even come up to hit on him directly.

He noticed quickly you don't look at him like many people look at him. He noticed how innuendoes towards you went completely over your head. He noticed you didn't quite understand the subtle outrage from some of the spiders when you called him a "complete dick" once.

He knew that outrage wasn't over that he was a figure of authority.

You humble the hell out of him. One of his favorite things about you is that he has to work for you. You're not swayed by his sex appeal.

He finds that that makes you interesting. Very interesting.

It also make him fee.l.. human? Like he's not a prime cut of meat to be chewed up and spit out.

He loves that most about you.

Of course, at first, you're none the wiser to this.

Like all eventual emotions that arise in every relationship, you begin to have your doubts.

Is Miguel even satisfied with you? Are you... depriving him because of your orientation?

Plus, there's so many beautiful men and women in Nueva York.

Miguel is quick to assure you that you're more than enough for him.

Of course, eventually, someone does say something, and goes too far.

You return to your shared apartment, that is conveniently adjacent to the Spider Society headquarters. Miguel immediately notices your shift in mood, as the usual pep in your step isn't there. Knowing that you'll talk when you're ready, he lets it go.

You both settle in for a little movie night on the sofa. Snuggled against your man, you hardly pay attention to the movie, and then begin acting strange.

Rubbing against him, running your hands up and down his pectorals, attempting to straddle in his lap-

Miguel immediately knew something wasn't right.

Of course, Miguel wasn't one to protest your affections, but he could tell you were forcing it. The touches, the kisses, they weren't all there.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing, mi chulo/chula? What's-hey, hey, no more of that okay?" He pauses to push your hands away from him- "What's all this about? What's wrong?"

"Don't look at me like that, I know something's wrong. I know you're putting on an act." He takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. "I know you, babe. I know when you walk different. I could tell something was wrong when you came home tonight."

"Well," you begin. "It's going to sound dumb," you're cut off by him. "It won't. It's bothering you." He leans over to place a kiss on your forehead. "Come on, baby. What's the matter? Is it me?"

"No! Not at all, actually, it's me."

Subtle outrage is scary. Miguel doesn't show it, but he's totally fuming over what your coworker had said to you. You were excited to introduce Miguel as your boyfriend.

"And you mean to tell me you and that... oh wow, supermodel haven't done it yet? Haven't you been together for, like what, two years?"

"That's pretty amazing. I don't know how I could ever stay in a sexless relationship, much less two years. I admire your self-control."

You weren't dumb. You caught that subtle jab. But couldn't help but wonder if they had a point. Miguel could have just about anyone he wanted. Why you? Why someone he could potentially never have sex with?

"Hey now, you listen to me, yeah?" Miguel withdraws his hands from yours and wraps your arms around you. "I, am, more than satisfied with you." "You," he emphasized his point by placing a finger on your chest. "Make me feel more than fulfilled. We don't have to have sex for me to love you as much as I do. We never had to. And still look at us."

He smiled down at you, "You think I'm gonna throw this beautiful thing we have between us away for a quick fuck? Be serious, mi amor."

You tighten your hug around your boyfriend, and suppressed giggles as he placed chaste little kisses on your collarbone. "We may get there, we may not. But none of that changes how I feel about you. How I love you. Got that?"

"Mn," you sighed. "I understand."

"Bien. Muy bien." Miguel placed a kiss on your forehead. "How's about we call it an early night, hm? Want me to carry you to bed?"

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pink-sparkly-witch · 11 months

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Taken for Granted, Part One

Summary: Having had his share of dangerous situations and close calls in Houston, this was meant to be the start of a quieter, slower life for Beau, Y/N and their daughter. Taking the job as Acting Sheriff in Helena, Montana, was a dream come true until Beau starts to spend far too much time with Jenny Hoyt, in and out of the office. At first, Y/N doesn’t mind too much, but one night Beau misses his daughter’s hockey tryouts and phone calls in favour of shooting tequila in a bar with his co-worker, and Y/N isn’t sure if she’s being taken for granted or if something bigger is going on that she needs to worry about.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Female Reader

Warnings: Meet cute, flirting, angst, mentions of injuries, arguments, language, accusations of cheating.

Bingo Square: Free Space for @j3bingo

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is my first submission on my @j3bingo card. It was beat’d by the lovely @writethelifeyouwant and is my first Beau fic! I hope you enjoy! 💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Being married to a police officer wasn’t easy, and Y/N knew that. She’d lost count of the number of promises she’d made throughout her younger years that she would never fall for a cop, and so in true Y/N fashion she did, in fact, fall for a cop.

She was from a police family; her grandpa, dad, and brothers had all felt the calling, and she knew they were disappointed that she didn’t follow the same path. It was like she wasn’t ‘one of them’ because she didn’t wear a badge and carry a gun, and their relationship became tense and strained.

Then she met Beau Arlen.

Finally, her family saw her differently. She became the hero because it was the stronger person that sent their loved one off with a goodbye kiss every morning, not knowing if they’d come home.

“So, uh… I’d really like to see you again. Take you on a date,” Officer Arlen had said after questioning her about the brawl that broke out in the bar where her friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing.

“Have they changed the rules about cops dating witnesses, Officer Arlen?” Y/N smirked.

“You’ve corroborated what fifty other people in this bar saw, but you didn’t see enough to be an official witness,” Beau explained.

“I don’t do cops,” she replied, trying to sound uninterested and not fall for his boyish charm and infuriatingly handsome face.

“I’m not asking you to “do” me, Miss Y/L/N, I’m asking you to go on a date with me,” the officer smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t date cops,” Y/N changed her wording, trying to make him give up and leave her alone.

“Why, you got a problem with authority or something?” Beau was grinning. She knew he was flirting with her, and although he was cute and she was tempted, Y/N knew the second he found out the truth about her, he would run for the hills.

“You have no idea who I am, do you, Officer Arlen?” Y/N said, chuckling when he looked like he was searching through a Rolodex in his brain.

“Well, ma’am, I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I’d hooked up with a woman as beautiful as you. In fact, if we’d hooked up, I would never have let you go, so it’s not that.” Beau was teasing and she knew it. She’d have already gone home with him if he had any other career.

“You really have no idea who I am?” Y/N asked again, more seriously this time.

“Should I?” he replied, his tone matching her seriousness for the first time since he’d questioned her about the fight.

“Huh… I’m surprised my face isn’t ingrained in y’alls memories at training,” she mused. “My father is Joe Y/L/N, Chief of Police.” Now if that didn’t get this guy to back off, nothing would, Y/N thought.

“Is that meant to scare me away, or…?” Beau let his question hang in the air, and she had to admit, his complete indifference to who her father was–who her family were–only made him more appealing to her.

“When most guys find out who my father is and that I have three brothers on the force, they usually run a mile in the other direction.”

“I’m not most guys, darlin’.” Beau’s charming smile was obnoxious. And intoxicating. And stunning. “So, how about that date?”

Already on her way to falling for him, Y/N agreed to a date, and they’d been together ever since. They got married two years later, just before he was made detective, and she’d been by his side every step he climbed in the ranks of Houston P.D. Three years into their marriage, Y/N gave birth to their daughter, Maisie.

Growing up as she had, Y/N was well aware of the risks being a cop came with, but Beau took it to a completely new level. He was always going against protocol, putting himself in dangerous situations and taking unnecessary risks.

The worst incident had been when he ran after two armed robbers without waiting for backup. He caught one of them, but just as he handcuffed him and read him his rights, the other thief turned and fired. He’d been incredibly lucky that the bullet only hit his clavicle. If it had landed an inch to the left, it would’ve got his carotid artery and killed him.

Six months back on the job he did the exact same thing: chased down two armed drug dealers without any backup. Both perps opened fire this time, and it was a miracle he hadn’t been shot again.

They’d had the worst argument of their entire relationship after that, leading to Y/N not speaking to him for days. She felt it was more than justified because he’d been seriously wounded less than a year before and gone through several surgeries and weeks of physiotherapy. Not to mention Maisie was only four years old and Y/N really didn’t want to tell their daughter that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

Two weeks later and still in the midst of a silent standoff, Beau had tried to tell her that a dangerous operation to take down the biggest drug kingpin in Houston was going down that day. Y/N remained silent as she packed Maisie’s lunch for kindergarten and at his insistence that they talk about things, she’d responded pettily as she lifted Maisie out of Beau’s arms and made to leave for the day.

“I’d say be careful, but you and I both know you don’t know the meaning of the word,” Y/N spat at him.

“Darlin’, please,” Beau had sighed, defeated but knowing he kinda deserved it. Even he knew he’d been stupid chasing after armed suspects without waiting for backup. Twice.

“At least this time, try to remember you have a daughter and a wife at home and to not get yourself nearly killed.”

Beau didn’t make it to the precinct that morning. A dirty cop on the task force had told the cartel boss what was going down, and Beau had been attacked and kidnapped from a gas station as he’d filled the car on his way to work. He’d been held hostage, tortured, and beaten for four days.

When they finally found him, he’d been at death’s door. Lucky to be alive, all of the doctors had said. The first time they let Y/N in to see him after they’d run their tests and stitched him up, the sight of her husband’s broken and beaten body almost killed her.

Watching her sob at his bedside, Beau had tried to calm her down, but the guilt she had over their fight, over what her last words to him were, and the fear that she’d almost lost him—again—was too strong. She couldn’t even hug him for fear that she’d hurt him more.

All night she’d sat by his bedside, watching him sleep, thankful for everything she still had and grateful he’d fought so hard to stay alive for her and Maisie.

The next morning, they’d agreed to never go to bed, or leave the house angry at each other, again. It’d been too much of a close call, and they both knew they’d never forgive themselves if the worst had happened and they hadn’t been speaking.

After his first dose of morphine for the day, when Beau no longer felt like he’d been hit by a bus, he encouraged Y/N to curl up with him on the uncomfortable hospital bed, giving both of them the comfort and affection they’d missed for the past few weeks.

That promise to never go to work or bed angry at each other lasted for eleven years. Yes, they argued and had disagreements, and more than once they’d gone to bed or about their days hurling a rather aggressive “I love you” at the other, but they’d never left the other in any doubt that they still loved and cared for the other.

Until now.

This was the sixth night in a row Y/N had gone to bed alone, and just as many days she’d woken up that way too. Beau had told her that moving to Montana would make it better, that he wouldn’t work as long hours or have as many dangerous encounters as he’d had in Houston. At first, he had been right.

The first few months in Helena had been great. Beau was home in time for dinner every night, and they had breakfast as a family every morning. He didn’t even have a close call once a week, never mind several times a day. By all accounts, in those first couple of months, being Acting Sheriff in Helena, Montana, had been everything Beau and Y/N had hoped for.

Then he started working longer hours and responding to calls a sheriff should be sending his deputies to. Not to mention Beau would attend those calls with an officer who wasn’t even his partner. An officer he was currently in a bar with; drinking tequila, singing karaoke, and posing for pictures with, according to her social media. And so, once again, Y/N had gone to bed alone.

The sound of the shower running roused Y/N from sleep, and she glanced at the alarm clock. Frowning at the late hour, she turned on her back and set her gaze on the ceiling as she waited for the water to shut off.

It felt like an hour, but she knew it was only a few minutes later that Beau emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his damp hair with a towel.

“It’s a little late for a shower,” Y/N stated, making Beau jump, clearly startled she was awake.

“Jesus, darlin’, you scared the crap outta me!” Beau chuckled. “Did I wake you?”

“You were having a shower at three in the morning, Beau, of course you woke me.” Y/N’s voice was filled with irritation that she knew he’d be able to pick up on.

“I’m sorry, baby. It was a later night than I planned. Thought I’d save some time by showering now instead of the morning.” Beau carelessly threw his damp towel onto the bathroom floor and walked towards the bed, completely naked and standing at half-mast.

Normally, the sight of him naked and hard would have her salivating and pouncing on him the second he lay down, but not tonight. Tonight, she couldn’t help but visualise Jenny on her knees sucking him off. She didn’t know where the unwelcome image came from, she knew he wouldn’t cheat on her… or at least she used to know that.

Logically, Y/N also knew that the fact he was hardening with every step he took meant that that kind of activity hadn’t been happening while he was out, but she was hurt and confused and still half asleep. And men did not drink tequila in bars with other women all night and then come home at three o’clock in the morning and jump straight into the shower if they’d been faithful now, did they?

“I’m surprised you’re walking in a straight line. It looked like quite the party you and Jenny were having to yourselves.” The irritation in Y/N’s tone had increased tenfold since she last spoke.

“It wasn’t that kinda night, what with Jenny’s mom being in the wind again.” Beau frowned, and the fact that he was playing the night down hurt even more and made her exhausted with the whole situation.

“Huh,” Y/N huffed. “Social media really must be all smoke and mirrors after all because she didn’t look too beat up about it in the photos. In fact, it looked like you two were having a great time shooting tequila and singing karaoke, looking all cosy together,” she spat and turned her back on him.

“Y/N,” Beau sighed.

“I need to get some sleep. I promised Maisie I’d get her to school early tomorrow so she can pick up her uniform before her first practice with the senior hockey team.”

“Maisie made the team?” The pride in her husband’s voice made her smile for the briefest of seconds until she remembered she and their daughter were mad at him right now.

“Yes, which you’d have known if you’d come to the game tonight instead of going out drinking, or if you’d picked up any one of your daughter’s eight calls. You know, she was really upset that she couldn’t get a hold of you, Beau.”

“Great,” he said as he slid a large, warm palm over her waist, and she shivered at his touch. “I’ve upset both my girls.”

“All for Jenny and some tequila. I hope she was worth it, Beau, because I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

“Y/N, come on,” he pleaded, “it was just a few drinks.”

“For the fourth time this week. And until three in the morning again. I haven’t physically spoken to you since Friday, and the only reason we’re talking right now is because you woke me up. You know, all these late nights with another woman are starting to throw up all sorts of red flags, Beau.” Y/N said angrily as she turned to look at him.

“You know I’d never,” Beau’s firm voice and clenched jaw almost made her back down but he needed to know. He needed to hear this.

“Do I?” she scoffed. “Jenny isn’t even your partner, and yet you go on every case with her while her actual partner does what, huh? Sits at his desk and throws a football across the bullpen to his buddies? You’re the sheriff, for crying out loud, Beau! You don’t need to go out on even half of those calls! And then when your shift is over, the two of you run off to whatever dive bar you can find on the outskirts of town where no one knows you, and you can practically grope each other all night and-”

“Y/N, I’m gonna stop you right there. There is nothing going on with me and Jenny, okay? We’re just friends. And she’s going through a tough time right now,” Beau tried to explain, but Y/N scoffed again and pretended not to notice that Beau was looking quite hurt that she doubted him.

“And tell me, Beau… would you believe that bullshit excuse if it was me, huh? What would be running through your mind if I was out drinking with a co-worker, singing karaoke, pulling him into hugs, playing with his hair and getting up close and personal with him?

“What would you think about that co-worker posting what looks like incredibly intimate photos on social media, knowing you could see them? Our daughter could see them? That the whole town could see them?” Y/N paused and showed him her phone.

She watched intently as he scrolled through the photos Jenny had posted with her arms around him, her head on his shoulder, her gazing up at him like he was the goddamn messiah. She watched as his face paled with the realisation of what those photos—particularly the last one—looked like.

“And what would you think if I came home from a night out, where there were photos of me and another man, who was “just a friend” like that,” she pointed at the photo of him and Jenny, his arm around her shoulder and his head resting on hers, one of her arms was around his waist, and her other hand resting on his chest, both smiling softly like they didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“What if I ignored all of your and our daughter’s calls, and when I finally came home, I went straight into the shower at three o’clock in the morning.”

“Y/N, I know what it looks like,” Beau tried to explain, but she couldn’t. Not right now. If she didn’t hit this home, he wouldn’t know just how much it had upset her.

“See, I don’t think you do. Not really. Because if it was me, you��d think showering so late meant that I was trying to get rid of the evidence of being with another man. You’re a good cop, Beau. A great one, even. So I find it really hard to believe that you wouldn’t think that. And that you wouldn’t have realised that things were getting far too close in there.

“And if something like this happened when we were still in Texas, you’d have ended the night right away and came home to your wife… or maybe that’s it. Maybe without my dad and brothers having eyes and ears everywhere, you’re finally free to do what and who you want!”

Y/N threw the duvet off her body and sat up on the bed. Dragging her pillow with her, she stood and walked across the room.

“Baby, where are you going?” Beau asked, and she could hear the regret in his tone.

“Anywhere that’s not here. I don’t want to be anywhere near you right now.”

Y/N barely slept a wink, and she knew her agitation was hard to hide in the morning. As she prepared the coffee machine, every drawer and cabinet door was closed a little more firmly than usual, and she seemed to have developed a fondness for huffing very loudly at inanimate objects.

“Did Dad even come home last night?” Maisie asked as she entered the kitchen. Y/N wanted to scold her daughter for her impertinence, but even she couldn’t deny that it was a fair question. He hadn’t been here when they’d gone to bed or woken up for the better part of a week. For all either of them knew, he hadn’t been home at all in that time.

“Hey!” Beau’s raised voice carried through the kitchen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh!” Maisie exclaimed dramatically, “So that’s what you look like. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you that I was starting to forget.” Her sarcastic grin was uncannily like her mother’s, and it simultaneously made Beau’s chest burst with pride and broke his heart.

Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise. Maisie had always been a daddy’s girl, and the fact that she was giving him a hard time was proof of how hurt she was too. Beau looked to Y/N, his expression begging her for some backup. Instead, she shrugged and carried on packing Maisie’s lunch, making it clear that this time, he was on his own.

“I know I haven’t been around much, baby girl, and I’m gonna change that, okay?” Beau said softly, sighing when Maisie scowled at him.“Mom said you made the team! I’m so proud of you, Maze,” he smiled, trying to defuse the tension building in the room.

“Where were you?” Maisie asked, tears welling in her green eyes, looking more vulnerable and hurt than Y/N ever wanted to see her daughter, and it made her even angrier.

“I’m sorry I missed the game–” Beau started but was interrupted by a scoff from his daughter.

“I’m not mad that you missed the game, Dad. You always miss stuff like that because of work,” she explained quietly. “But you always answer my calls, and last night you didn’t. So, where were you?”

“I… I was–” Beau struggled to figure out what the best thing to do was. Lie and hope Y/N didn’t rat him out or tell the truth and upset his girls even more than he already had.

“Your dad caught a case late last night. He was at the scene when you were calling, and by the time he got back to the station, he knew you’d be asleep,” Y/N answered for him, and Beau had never been more grateful to her for covering for him.

“Are you ready, honey? We need to get moving if you don’t want to be late for your first practice,” Y/N said and watched as Maisie smiled for the first time since dinner last night.

“Yeah, let’s go. Bye, Dad!” Maisie jumped off the stool and rounded the kitchen, hugging Beau before heading out to the driveway.

“Thank you,” Beau said quietly, stopping abruptly as Y/N raised a finger to stop him talking.

“Don’t you dare thank me for lying to our daughter. And don’t ever expect me to do it again. I did it to protect her, not you. If she finds out the reason you missed her game and didn’t answer her calls was to go out drinking, you will break her heart.

“You get this one for free. Next time… and I swear to God, there better not be a next time, but if there is? You are on your own. I won’t save you.” The venom in Y/N’s voice made him flinch. He’d never felt worse than he did right now, and he swore to himself that he’d never make his wife so angry again.

“It’s not just me you’re hurting here, Beau.”

Y/N picked up her purse and stormed out the front door, not stopping to kiss him or say goodbye; just gone.

And Beau didn’t blame her in the slightest.

P art Two>>

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