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kooktrash · 1 year

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his special secret | kim taehyung

summary: you’re an art student who has recently broken up with your cheating ex boyfriend. he’s your art professor recovering from a divorce just a year ago. what happens when your relationship goes beyond that of a professor and his college student?

➢ genre/au: college art professor!tae x art student!y/n [she/her… afab] [age gap 9 years]

➢ 12.5k words

warnings: smüt. secret relationship. tae is 30, y/n is 21. car sëx. oral [f&m]. make out. groping. tae is divorced. both got cheated on in past. jealous tae. dirty talk. makeout in art closet. y/n is confident but going thru it. professor x student. no protection. y/n is on top.

[REUPLOAD] HIS SPECIAL SECRET 2

You know when you're really mad to the point that you wanna cry? Not because you're sad but because you're so mad and you can't even act on that anger, especially not right now, you couldn't even show that you're upset because you're in class. Obviously it started off with your stupid ass ex-boyfriend's tenth apology text where it was mostly just him trying to gaslight you. Then it was because of missing the bus to campus which made you have to get a taxi and spend way more money than necessary, but get this, you spent like 20$ so you wouldn't miss your first class and yet it was canceled. Canceled! After spending that money to make it for that specific lecture you walk over to the room only to find a big fat 'canceled' sign on the door. Plus, you had enough time to catch the next bus if the professor only posted or emailed everyone saying it was cancelled, hell you could’ve even slept longer.

Your phone is still being blown up and you just can’t focus on your painting today. You can’t mix the right shade and it is beginning to drive you crazy. Your palette is getting too full and your water is so dirty that it isn’t even cleaning the brush anymore. You had already been trying to keep your cool this entire time but now you can’t take it anymore. You were so upset with the trillion texts you were being sent and with your painting not going the way you wanted it too, oh and missing the bus and class being canceled, you were very clearly overstimulated and overwhelmed. You felt like there is nothing you can do but just give up for the day.

You stood abruptly taking your brushes and palette to the sink in the back of the room. You dried and packed them all up not caring to say anything to anyone else as you picked up your bags and canvas. You put your things away and left, not turning back to professor who looked up from helping another person to watch you leave so suddenly. You finally got your phone out and dialed one of your friend's number hearing it ring twice before they picked.

"What do you want? I'm trying to take a nude here?"

"Can you pick me up? I'm done with classes," you asked him. You weren't even that far from the classroom but you were done. You had been working on the same part for over twenty minutes and it was not getting any better so you just had to go.

"You're lucky I was gonna go get Bora too, I'll be there in fifteen," Jungkook said finishing up his last shirtless picture before going for you two.

"Will that be all for today?" A voice spoke up behind you as your call came to an end. You jumped looking back and following the voice's direction and froze at the sight of your professor.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I just—I can't focus today," you sighed rambling out a shitty excuse. He huffed crossing his arms over his chest. You swear your professor came from a world where only the most attractive people are born. It wasn't even you being dramatic, it's just the facts. He had dark hair always styled neatly, his face was angular yet soft and his dark brows made his expressions more attractive. His voice was always so low that it was quite literally mouth watering and he loved wearing long sleeve button ups where he could just roll his sleeves up if he got too hot. You looked at his face, snapping yourself out of your thoughts at his expression.

He looked annoyed, but he kept himself neutral as he spoke, "The exhibition is next month. You only have a few weeks to finish the piece before the submission deadline. Don't you think you should try to focus on your painting?"

"I did try Professor Kim, I've just been—there's just a lot going on and—" you stopped suddenly staring at his left hand, a silver band no longer there. You stuttered a little to start again, "I apologize."

"Mhm," he muttered looking away from you to the others inside the art studio focused on their work, "Just go on, make sure the next time you step into the studio you're more focused."

Dick. "Of course sir," you said turning your back to leave finally. You got to the campus entrance just in time meeting Bora along the way and the two of you got into Jungkook's car. He was shirtless as he drove.

"What's up with you?" You asked buckling yourself in as you got in the passenger's seat. He was on his phone looking up at you through sunglasses that made you laugh, "You look like such a douche."

"Shut up I told you I was taking nudes," he said as he drove away, "Plus I'm hungover and the sun's way too bright but I wanna know what took you two so damn long."

"Oh my god I left my laptop in the journalism room so I had to go all the way to get it and you know I hate walking too much," Bora said from the back seat. You sighed, "Mr. Kim caught me outside and he kind of lectured me but it's whatever. You won't believe what I noticed today—"

"What?" The two said in harmony ready for any sort of gossip. You looked genuinely surprised, "He doesn't have a wedding ring anymore." They leaned back in disappointment.

"Yeah we know," Bora said sarcastically, "Everyone's been talking about it since last semester. The word is he must've gotten divorced over the summer."

"Wait so it's almost been a year? How did I not know? He's so young," you said with furrowed brows trying to understand what you were being told. Jungkook sighed dramatically, "Because you had a boyfriend and you're not into older men."

"He's like 30, that's not old, first of all," Bora cut in, "And Y/n has daddy or mommy issues, so she's probably into older men."

"How did this get turned on me?" You asked looking between the two before settling your eyes on Bora, "He really got divorced? I thought he'd been with her since he was 20."

“Yeah, apparently word on campus is that he caught her with her coworker," Bora told you, "Minho from the Tech department heard it in the staff room. Apparently he was asked to help with some computer problem and two teachers were talking about it. He told his girlfriend and she's told basically everyone."

"Why do so many care?" Jungkook asked pulling up to your apartment. Bora gasped, "Why? Because he is literally the world's most attractive man? He's like a God. I promise you everyone has a crush on him and that's why so many of the beginner art class was filled. Everyone wanted to have him as a teacher even if they weren't art majors."

"Is that why you signed up for an art theory class this semester?" You asked turning to her. She nodded with a pout, "Yeah but it was already filled. You're so lucky he's head of the department and you're in your third year. You get to work with him more since his focus is on proficient students.”

"He's super strict though," you told her with a defeated sigh, "But I guess he's honest. You have to be ready to face critique and he's helpful. He just makes you feel like shit when you're not focused."

"I bet he's an ass because he's probably not getting laid," Jungkook laughed, "Divorce does that to people. Turns them bitter."

"Are you kidding? Look at him, women must be all over him, hell half of us on campus would gladly have him," Bora swooned. You looked down at your phone, yet another text message from your shitty ex-boyfriend.

"Y/n you should sleep with him," Bora joked, "Since you're both newly single and you'll be a good shoulder for him to cry on."

"Thanks but I like guys my own age and I’m pretty sure being his student already complicates things enough," you said absentmindedly before reading over the newest text. It's been at least two weeks and he still hasn't quit trying to gaslight you. It was ridiculous and so damn tiring. Your professor was right, you had to focus on art and this was only a distraction. You'll have to stay over time tomorrow because he hasn't left you alone today.

namjoon: I srsly don't get y you're still ignoring me

namjoon: you kno I'd never do something to hurt u

One of the best parts about being an art student who has finished their prerequisites is that now you can really just focus on your work. So you'd basically go to one or two art classes and then you would go and work on your art. Bora was right when she said he was your mentor and it was in fact pretty exclusive.

You sold a painting last year in the Spring Art Exhibit for the university and Professor Kim became a lot more helpful. Despite his young age he had great connections in the art world from financers to auctioneers and museums. He helped proficient students participate in more exhibits and some art auctions where they could be noticed for their work and now you're one of them. Obviously he could be strict but it's because he saw potential in you and you definitely did not want to disappoint him. That's why you've spent majority of your day here well into the evening. You did have to work later but it would be open for at least another hour and that's enough time to adjust some color blocking. The sunset was long gone and you’ve barely been twenty minutes into your groove when someone else entered the studio.

You lowered the music coming from your speaker immediately at the sight of your teacher. He looked at you for a moment before continuing his walk to his desk. You tried going back to your work but now all you could think about is how dumb you were for not noticing he was divorced even if it didn’t matter to you at all. He was fishing some black portfolio out of a drawer as he spoke, "A custodian should be by soon to mop the floors and lock the room. You'll probably want to leave soon."

"Yes, I’ll start cleaning up now," you sighed as you looked at the very little work you got done. You could obviously try and work on it at home but that was too distracting. Your apartment was small and filled with distractions and there wasn't enough room for your things. It was a three canvas piece and with the easel and all your paints, brushes, palettes, and sketches spread out on the floor there's no room. At least here you had places to lock it up in. It got awkward again as you cleaned up your space and he did something at his desk. So, awkwardly, you tried to fill the silence, "Any plans this weekend, sir?"

"Nothing too interesting," he said seriously as he shuffled through some documents to find something, "Probably nothing like what all of you get up to on the weekend."

You assumed he was talking about college students. You went to one of those Universities that was extremely popular for producing majority of the well-paid lawyers, athletes, engineers, actors, musicians and artists. The student succession rate was high and yet every weekend every college student was out there getting completely shitfaced because of stress. You shrugged, "Well mine’s not interesting either, I have to work all weekend."

You doubt he cares at all but you said it anyway. Mr. Kim left shortly after with a quick goodbye and you rushed to catch the bus.

Taehyung's weekend didn't completely start till Saturday night. His Friday night was filled with directing a new upcoming event happening. The exhibit is in a month and Taehyung's been stuck calling buyers and businesses for confirmation in their attendances. It was really a large charity event where large corporations get publicity and popularity from but a lot of the students who have managed to put their name out there are pretty well known in the art world. Many have gone on to create their exhibitions and events for their art and have had large commissions. The school did a really good job at providing their students with advantages in their careers and Taehyung was pretty proud to be helping his art major students. Of course it was stressing but it was an honor at his age. Obviously it helped that his parents were well known art curators and have worked with foreign and home artists for years. The only thing that was hard is how much work it really was and with the shitty year he's had he needs a break.

"It's been a year Taehyung, nobody's telling you to find another wife," his best friend Jimin said as him and his two friends sat at the counter of some lounge bar. "We're just saying you should at least have post-divorce sex with some random chick and let off some steam. It's a Saturday night, I say we hit up some night club after this."

"No thanks, I'm not in the mood to be shoved around by drunk college kids," Yoongi cut in as he read over the drink menu as the bartender showed up. He gave his drink order first putting the attention on Taehying and Jimin making him look up. His mouth opened slightly in surprise at the sight before him.

You managed to hide your surprise at actually seeing your teacher outside of campus but you were working and he was with friends. He was the one to stumble over his words when he gave you his drink order. Jimin smirked evilly when you turned to make the drinks at the way Taehyung was acting. You wore a black skirt and fitted black top with your hair and make up done.

"Well well well," Jimin whispered to the other two, "I guess I don't need to force you on blind dates. You can chat up the bartender."

"It was pretty awkward hearing you try and talk to her," Yoongi added in making Taehyung shake his head in disagreement. Still, he continued, "No, I—she’s my—she’s too young.”

"Taehyung, look at your gorgeous face, I doubt it matters, plus you’re a college professor! You’ve got a PhD, you’re well off, you’re artistic! It's no wonder everyone throws themselves at you, so go at it," Jimin said making Taehyung laugh, "Do you have a crush on me Chimmy?"

"Of course, I'm one of those college girls of yours who join your lectures just to for you to notice them," Jimin joked shaking his head, "And yet Jihyun is the one who cheated and not you."

"Way to bring that up," Yoongi hit him letting them conversation drop as you came back with the drinks taking their money, Taehyung looked after you. Did you work every weekend? He didn't expect you to be the type to work here. He doesn't usually pay attention to his students aside from during his teachings but you were obviously a different story along with all of his advanced students. He was your mentor and you spent a lot of time in the art studio. You mostly kept to yourself and did your work. He usually saw you stressed out but the other day was the first time in two years that you just walked out of his class. It was hard juggling the art piece from the Spring Art Exhibit and the final for their realism class but that's life and you leaving was so out of character to him.

It was still weird to see you give up that day. He obviously didn't know how you acted outside of the art department but he really was surprised especially considering the way you were dressed. He also didn't know you were the type to be friends with muscular men covered in tattoos and piercings.

"Holy shit that really is your professor," Jungkook whispered to you as he wiped the inside of some shot glasses. You and him stood at the other end of the bar gossiping. Jungkook smirked, "This is a sign, you should sleep with him."

"Do you ever think about something other than sex?" "Not really."

“Alright well focus on your own sex life and not mine. I just dumped Namjoon like three weeks ago," you complained, "Plus I'm pretty sure there's a rule against student and staff relations."

"Alright but you're 21 and he's like 30 so legally..." Jungkook trailed off giving you enough time to cut in. You sighed, "Just stop."

After some time you did circle back to the group of men and took more drink orders. While you were there one of them excused themselves to the restroom and the other got a call. In the end, Taehyung was the only one left. You found yourself stalling as you wiped your side of the lowered counter in front of him.

"I'm off," Jungkook came by patting your shoulder, "Want me to wait for you?" You shook your head at him, "No, I have to close remember?"

"Alright well call me if you change your mind," then he reached out and flicked your forehead, "See ya, Ugly."

You rolled your eyes swatting his hand away as your cheeks reddened in embarrassment. He's such an asshole. Taehyung didn't say anything for a second and then said, "So this is where you go after the studio?"

"On the weekends yeah," you said biting your lip nervously, "Also sorry if I seemed disrespectful but you're out with your friends and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not offended I was just surprised. You're the first student I've seen outside of school-related events," he confessed with a small smile. From what he saw of you with that guy you definitely seemed outgoing. You seemed playful and maybe a little sarcastic but when he sees you in the studio you’re serious. When you talk to him it seems like you're always on edge and he still wanted to know what made you walk out the other day. Sensing another wave of awkwardness coming between you two you took a glass in your hand, "How about a drink? On the house."

"That's alright, I can pay—" "Sir, it's just one drink it'll be fine," you waved him off already mixing it before handing it to him, "You seem stressed."

Your fingertips touched his on accident as he took the drink. Your eyes locked once more before you were backing away to help some people on the other end. Taehyung has never looked at any of his students sexually but obviously he'd never been blind to the attractive ones. He'd been married for five years and he was loyal unlike his ex wife. Plus, he knew the position he was in and what it'd do to his career if he ever got involved with a student so the thought never came to mind. Right now though, he's having a hard time seeing you as a student and not just someone from the bar. Thankfully, his friends returned to him just as you caught him staring again.

Bora would be losing her shit over your small interaction with your professor. He was so unbelievably attractive and to see him in a setting like this made you want to do very bad things with him. Maybe their jokes about using your Professor for rebound sex was getting to your head. Obviously your friends never meant anything serious by that but wow did that seem do-able right now, especially considering the fact that he keeps staring at you.

"Come on Taehyung, let's go clubbing, I haven't gone in a while," Jimin begged him turning to Yoongi, "You too, let's go."

"Nah man, I'm not cut out for that anymore. I’m older than the two of you," Yoongi reminded making Jimin roll his eyes. He pulled on Taehyung's arm, "Let's go get you laid."

"Shut up, I'm not going, why don't you go? You don't need us," Taehyung told him. Jimin huffed gathering his things, "Fine. I will."

They waved him off watching him leave until it was just the other two. Yoongi sighed, "I should probably head home before Jieun comes to get me herself. It was nice drinking with you though, call me if you need anything."

Taehyung knows that he should just head out too. His two friends just left and he's got no reason to still be at the bar but he waited for you to come back and clean up their glasses.

"Your friends left already?" You asked him wiping at the counter.

"Uh yeah, I think I need to sober up before I head out though," he cleared his throat nervously, "Can I get a water?"

"Of course," you left for a second to fill it before coming back. You set the glass down in front of him stalling a little before asking, "I don't know if this is inappropriate or anything but are you alright sir? I, uh, I actually just realized you're not wearing your ring anymore."

His breath hitched for a second. He'll be a year since his divorce in two months and you've just now noticed? Well he doesn't expect his students to notice a small detail but still felt weird to hear it. He nodded in acknowledgment to your question, "It's alright, but yes, I'm not wearing my ring anymore. I had a divorce last summer."

"Wow," you said absentmindedly, "Well I hope you're doing well. I know this isn't all that similar but I actually just recently ended a relationship too."

"Oh?" Taehyung questioned with peaked interest. The nagging part in his brain was telling him to go before he got too curious about his student's personal life, "Is everything alright with you then?"

"Yeah it's fine," you shrugged leaving for a second to help someone else. Taehyung still waited even if he knew it was his chance to return to his empty home. When you came back he rushed to question you, "So, what made the two of you end it? Was he someone you were with since high school?"

"God no, we'd only been dating a few months but he still cheated," you blurted out, the topic still annoying you, "I mean, you know, some people just aren't worth it."

"He cheated on you?" Taehyung asked looking you up and down without much thought. He might be crossing the line with the next thing he says. You nodded no longer caring about keeping this to yourself, "With one of my closest friends actually. Safe to say I don't talk to either of them anymore."

"You're beautiful."

You froze. His words were mumbled behind his hand as he looked away from you, "I mean... you seem like a great person and I don't see why anyone would ever choose someone else over you." You didn't say anything for a moment before nodding your head, "Well I could say the same for you Mr. Kim."

Ah, so even if you just found out he was divorced clearly you’ve heard the rumors. It was embarrassing that his students and others knew what happened. The conversation changed after that. He asked about your progress and you went into detail about your work. He nodded listening, "Well maybe I could offer some guidance after class."

"I'd really appreciate that, and once again I'm sorry for walking out of class the other day," you bit your lip nervously and it had Taehyung doing the same. Stop, Y/n's your student and is at least nine years younger than you, he told himself.

His breath hitched as he tried to push his thoughts away before something bad happened. The two of you talked for another hour or two, before you knew it the bar was supposed to close soon as it was past midnight. Taehyung noticed the a sense of all other customers with a sense of dread, he'd have to leave now. He actually enjoyed talking to you, he's never connected with his students but you were easy to talk to. Obviously that was already inappropriate and he should just forget all of this but it was hard. He liked having someone to listen even if it weren't his close friends. He sighed as he stood, "So, you're closing soon?"

He was setting some cash down on the counter, a good tip that you tried to refuse. You nodded, "Yeah, I've gotta do some cleaning up unfortunately."

"How do you get home? You ride the bus?" He asked playing with his keys. You pushed some hair behind your ears, "No actually I'll probably have to call a cab since it's so late."

"Nonsense, if you're up for it I can give you a lift," Taehyung offered up before he could even process what he was saying, "I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd feel letting you get in a stranger's car this late at night when I can wait for you. Unless you think that's inappropriate." It was.

You nodded, "I mean, if you don't mind waiting..." "I don't," Taehyung rushed to say, "I'll bring my car around to the front and wait for you alright? It gives me a chance to sober up some more anyway. You've got my number right?"

You did since he was your mentor. A lot of you students who were in advanced classes had his number since you all had a group chat. Taehyung would be lying if he said he hasn't had female students in the past be a little too suggestive in his messages but he always shut it down right away. The only reason he wanted to take you home tonight is because he actually enjoyed talking with you. He hadn't spoken with a woman this much in a long time unless it was school or work related. He's shot down every one of Jimin's offers to set him up with someone and when they'd go out drinking Taehyung was never interested in hooking up with strangers.

When you got in his car he passed you his jacket to drape over your legs and you thanked him, "Thank you so much, cabs are so expensive."

"Yeah, I bet they are, just tell me when to turn, alright?" Taehyung said as he pulled onto the street heading down the direction you pointed to. Your phone sat on your lap ringing and you didn't hang up or answered. If you hung up he'd just keep calling and calling.

He looked down at your phone before shifting his eyes back on the road, hand adjusting his grip on the steering wheel, "Do you need to answer that?"

"Huh? No it's just my ex," you told him honestly staring out the window, "He's still bothering me all the time."

"Mm," he hummed in acknowledgement as you pointed at what street to turn down, "He's still trying even after sleeping with your former friend?"

"Yeah, he thinks apologizing over and over again is gonna change my mind," you said with a shrug, "But that's done with thankfully. Don't you feel that way? Happy it's over?"

He waited a moment trying to think it over. Is this conversation with you wrong? Well in reality, getting you in his car this late at night is wrong. Thinking about how your perfume filled his car with a soft floral scent. Plus you were pretty, he'd thought that the other day too when he caught you in the studio so late. Your hair had been pinned back and your smock was covered in paint along with your hands. He had found himself stalling his mission that night before rushing home once he realized it.

"Um, I am happy it's over but it was also a ten year relationship that she threw away for one night," Taehyung said to you, "I'm happy it's over but it still upsets me. Sorry, maybe we shouldn't be talking about this?"

"Of course I'm so sorry Mr. Kim," you said turning away from him, "Um it's just up the street. The building with a gate."

He nodded driving forward. He was about to know where one of his student's lives. But why didn't he want to drop you off now? When he pulled up to the side of the building still a little hidden under the night sky he turned to you. Should he walk you up to make sure you get u wide safely or would that be taking it too far?

Maybe you were crazy or maybe your friends really got to your head because you did not want to leave. Obviously before you thought he was just your hot, married professor but now? After spending over an hour just talking to him and then him dropping you off home was messing with your head. Plus, you went through very similar experiences and he had to be at least a little into you to go out of his way to wait for you to take you home. Obviously it was wrong since he was your professor but in reality the age part didn't matter. Sure, you've always said you like guys your age but just look at Kim Taehyung.

So yeah, you were taking your sweet time unbuckling yourself and giving him his jacket back. He didn't say anything watching you sit up trying to get your things and for some reason he really did not want you to go. What he hadn't expected was the look in your eyes when you caught him staring again. This was wrong. He had to stop looking at you like that. He was nine years older than you and your college professor.

But then, you surprised him when you reached over the middle console. He didn't even have to think about what was going on when his hand was on your jaw pulling you closer until your lips met. He released a soft groan into your mouth letting his tongue lick along your lower lip until you gave him room to explore your mouth.

You were so eager, a hand on his thigh to keep yourself up as he tongue kissed you. He should not be doing this, he knows he shouldn't but it's been so long since he's had anyone's hands on him but his own. He did not sleep around and he was acting out of character with you but in this moment he just needed to have you. The nagging feeling was still in the back of his head though.

You trailed wet kisses down his jaw, kissing along his neck arching your back into him. He couldn't stop the slide of his hand over the back of your skirt, groping a little at your butt as he reached over to touch you too. Even then he just had to speak, "This is wro—ng, you're my student."

You're not completely sure what came over you in the car but at the moment you did not care. Your hand slid closer to his inner thighs making his muscles tense. You were getting a little too close to his groin now as you kissed him shutting him up. He kissed back hungrily despite his words and then your hand was running over his middle. You sighed into his lips, "Nobody has to know, just tonight."

Taehyung didn't put up much of a fight after that. He let you unzip his jeans and button. His hand was at your throat pulling you into him while his other hand trailed down your back. Your short skirt was a little too tempting to reach out and touch. He licked his lips when you kissed down the middle of his collarbone where the top buttons of his shirt were undone. With the first grade of your hand palming at his growing erection he groped at your butt in the skirt. He nodded with a lick of his lips, "Just tonight."

He couldn't stop the deep moan that he released when your hand dipped into his briefs. He was sporting a semi but with the first touch of your hand on his hardening cock. You still hadn't even looked down to notice he was thick and long. He felt heavy in your hand as you palmed over him, too dry to feel good so you brought your hand up. You held it to his chin and with his eyes locked on yours he spit into it watching you do the same before bringing it back down to his member. He jumped at the first feel of the slick grip you had on him now creating a wet slide around him. He was panting, it'd been way too long since the last time someone else touched him.

Also, it helped that it was past midnight and how far was well tinted so you couldn't see anything from the outside. The car wasn't even on anymore. His hips met your hand's efforts to jerk him off, moaning into your mouth as he grabbed a handful of ass. After some time you pulled away from him making sure to pull on his lips as you backed off watching him try and chase after you. He watched through lust filled eyes as you shunned further toward your door backing your butt up so you could lean over the middle console until you were face to face with his slick cock. He bit his lip in anticipation, no longer thinking about how wrong this was the second your tongue licked up a fat stripe up the length of his member.

"Is this alright, sir?" You asked holding his cock in a loose fist while you left soft kisses on his mushroom tip. Your tongue poked at the vein on his underside, rounded innocent eyes staring at him that he knew were anything but innocent. He'd never been with anyone this young, he'd never even thought about this before he'd been married for five years and dating for another four or five. She'd been the last women he was ever with and his relationships prior to her hadn't meant anything. Yet, here he was enjoying the warm tight feel of your mouth on him that had him forgetting everything wrong with this.

He licked his lips, "Y-Yes, but call me Taehyung." He liked hearing you call him sir too damn much but considering all his students call him that he couldn't think about it right now.

"Alright Taehyung," you leaned up to peck his lips in a quick kiss that had him craving more. Then you flashed him a mischievous smile before coming back down to his member, "I'm gonna suck your dick now."

Taehyung shudders out another velvety groan as your lips finally wrapped around his whole tip. Hips rise off the leather seat to meet your mouth hoping to get himself deeper. Wet warmth around his length and he's gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles whiten. You're far from gentle. The flick of your tongue over a thick vein before lapping at the slit on his head with every bob. The gentle suck of the tip. You've never found so much pleasure from sucking a man's cock before, but then came your hot Professor. Nine years older than you, too young to be divorced, and the man he taught you about art all week. None of that matters though when it comes to the deep growls and husky moans he releases as a hand plays with the end of your panties. A thing paid of things he had to pull out your underwear, fingers running over your covered slit.

Taehyung had decided the moment you reached into his jeans that he wanted to fuck his student. He wanted to let out all his pent up sexual frustration on his pretty little student who was just so eager to take his cock in their mouth. Who would've known he would've broken his head long dry spell for some college pussy. He brought his hand back from your underwear sticking his fingers into his mouth to lather them in spit.

He groaned when he hit the back of your throat relishing in the tightness of your mouth as he slid his hand to your head again, pulling the poor excuse for underwear to let his finger run down your slit toward your clit. You were so fucking wet, stupid wet actually and it only turned him on more.

His finger brushed roughly against your skin, a moan escaping your throat that sent vibrations around his dick. Taehyung toyed with your clit feeling more slick being produced by his touch. It was so fucking hot. The sec with his wife had gotten boring and repetitive over the years but this felt new and exciting. You were attractive to him from your looks to your art work and it was all hitting him at once.

"That's it sweetheart, take it all in your mouth," Taehyung panted stopping his motions, but pressing down against your clit. Your head began to bob harshly now, sucking him into your mouth while your hand stroked whatever didn't felt. He was feeling close but with how tight you felt, he needed to stretch you.

Taehyung hummed, rubbing circles around your cunt, his thumb gently massaging your clit. "Am I making you this wet baby? Should I punish you for it?"

You moaned and whined as Taehyung's fingers slammed into you, while rubbing your clit. You caught him by surprise when you bounced your hips forcing his finger in and out of your cunt at a speed you wanted and it made him groan deep in his chest.

He didn't stop fucking your throat as you fucked yourself on his finger giving him time to push another in too. He wished he could see this from an outside point of you. This thirty year old man getting his dick milked dry by a hot twenty one year old art student of his while he stuck his fingers into their tight pussy. He was so close, honestly surprised he'd been holding off this long. When his fingers began to feel your walls relax around him he knew you were ready for him now.

"Think you can ride my cock sweetheart?" He asked brushing your hair out of your face as you slobbered all over his member. You didn't need to be asked twice as you popped off him feelings his fingers toy with your folds but no longer fingering you. He pushed his seat back to give you more room before reclining his seat back. He guided you over his lap watching as you didn't waste a second in lining himself up with your wet pussy.

"I'm on the pill sir," you said calling him that name again that had his cock twitching. He nodded pulling you in for another kiss as his hands found your waist sinking you down his length. You moaned into each other's mouths. You slowly raised your hips and sunk back down on him, and he tightened his grip on your throat just slightly pulling you away from the kiss. Your face pressed against each others in breathy moans of want as he began to bounce you on his cock while bucking his hips.

It had been awhile for the both of you, though he knows you probably hadn't waited as long as him. He'd been dry since his divorce while you just broke up with tour boyfriend weeks ago. He had a feeling you were always eager like this for sex, and you clearly knew what you were doing with your mouth too and it was just so hot. He was kneading your ass as your head rested on the crook of his neck. He was so close but he was trying to hold off for you. He resort to talking, "This is wrong, y'know?"

Even then he said it with a buck of his hips loving the way your plump wet walls felt around him, "Only bad girls jump on their teacher's cocks."

"Mm," you whined teasingly as you sucked love bites into his collarbone, "You gonna punish me sir?"

"Oh fuck," he moaned when your walls clenched around him intentionally, "Call me Taehyung, love."

"Taehyung," you moaned into his mouth moving onto a quick grind of your heads into each other, "I'm gonna cu—"

"Do it, do it now, fuck Y/n," he held you tighter getting a little rougher now as he reached up for the handlebar on the roof of the car and used it for leverage as he forced his hips off the seat to push more into you. With the new force you weren't lasting long, your release hit you like a tsunami making you shake around him as he held your chest against his. He didn't stop thrusting though, trying to get himself as close to orgasm before he had to pull out of your tight walls as they twitched around him.

You let him raise you off his cock as you sat back down in your seat adjusting your underwear that had been pulled to the side this entire time. You reached across him with a hand jerking him off using your own release as lube and he was fucking into your hand forcing your mouth back on his. With a low grunt and a shake of his hands, he was cumming. Thick drops of creamy cum fell around your hand like a flood. You didn't think much about it as you pulled away from his lips to cover his cock in your mouth licking him clean as best as you could.

After some time you moved off him awkwardly pulling your hair out of your face as you cleared your throat. He tucked himself back in nervously as he adjusted his seat back up looking at his disheveled reflection. He couldn't even look at you, not because he didn't want to stare at your beauty but because it really was wrong. He was your college professor for fuck's same. It didn't matter his strong attraction toward you. What mattered is that he was in a place of authority and could easily lose his job and probably ruin your reputation. He couldn't do that to you but he really wanted you.

"I should probably head inside now," you said shyly as you grabbed your bag opening the door. Taehyung didn't say anything nodding his head watching you leave. He hated the fact that he looked at the length of your legs as you left. It wasn't right.

By Monday morning Taehyung wasn't sure what to think anymore. After the crazy night with you on Saturday it was all he could think about on Sunday. He met up with his friends for brunch and he couldn't help but rant. It didn't do him any favors that they knew something was wrong with him since the beginning. He ended up being honest and telling them that the bartender was his student and that they hooked up in his car.

At first they had been extremely confused by it all but Taehyung already felt guilty on his own as it was, he didn't need them making him feel worse. He expected them to slap him or tell him that he should never do it again. But they didn't say that. Instead they filled his head with possibilities that should never even be thought off.

"In reality you two are adults and didn't you say she's a third year? She'll graduate in a year so really there's nothing wrong with it," Jimin tried reasoning, "She wanted to do it right? Look, I'm just happy you got your dick wet. We both know it's been way too long, plus nobody is saying you have to keep seeing your student. It was just a one night hiccup."

He had to tell himself over and over again that it was just one night. He was thankful that when you walked into class you were in the middle of a discussion when another girl from the class. The two of you were talking so much you merely walked past his desk without a stolen glance. Good, it seemed like you had no intention on more. Great. Amazing. It was the right thing.

Today a male model would be brought in for you all to paint. He had a sheet draped over his intimates and once the assignment was started you put all your focus on it. You were supposed to use him to sketch a person and then use your own art style to tell a story. You tried not looking to your professor in case he felt awkward about Saturday. You kind of did.

Mostly because you could still feel his lips on yours and it made you nervous. You spent all of Sunday in your room trying not to freak out but you just felt so stupid. It felt unbelievably good for him but you knew it wasn't right.

"I swear to god these stupid fingers are pissing me off," your friend Yuna whined as she had to erase more charcoal. Neither one of you noticed the professor making his rounds to check on all the sketches down so far.

"Think about which perspective you're using and the proportion of his hands where he has them placed," Mr. Kim told her pointing to areas that seemed off. You could feel your heart race when he made his move to you next. He was hesitant at first to speak to you, just standing behind your stool watching your sketch and he only stepped closer when he had advice.

"Pay a little more attention to the line of his body, focus on proportions too and use more shadowing,” he said pointing at spots in your painting. It felt like he was too close but neither one of you were actually bothered by it. In the mix of slight regret there was also this strong wanting for a recreation of that night. Neither one of you would actually go for it though. Right? Not again?

He looked down to make sure you were listening, your eyes lcking for a moment before you both looked away nervously at the realization of your proximity. He didn't notice the way his tongue ran over his lips before biting down on his bottom one in remembrance. You're wearing the perfume from the other night.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung looked away from you standing straight again, "But other than that it looks like you have more done than others, thank you for focusing better today."

"Of course sir," you said absentmindedly looking back to your sketch too. It took him a second to move away. He'd never felt so damn embarrassed at the fact that he had to focus so hard on not getting turned on and breaking a sweat. This is exactly why he asked you to call him Taehyung only but of course you would slip up since you were used to referring to him with the honorific. But right now he could only think about what you'd said to him that faithful night.

"You gonna punish me sir?"

Looking down at you nobody would ever guess you'd say something like that but he knew you did. He heard you say it and he really liked it—

"Sir do you mind taking a look at mine?" A student asked snapping him out of his thoughts. He had to look around to find where he was still a couple feet behind. He didn't bother responding as he started working that way not noticing the way your eyes followed after him making you smudge a mark across your paper. With a small annoyed huff you worked on cleaning it up again.

After class you were one of the last to leave the room. You've been thinking about him nonstop but because of the positions you're in, you shouldn't. But in reality, you were two adults who happened to have sex. There was a sense of sexual attraction and honestly, hooking up with someone other than your ex definitely did something to you. Considering the fact that he definitely seemed affected by your presence in class, you found yourself staying another late evening at the studio making sure Taehyung saw you the next time he passed by the room.

He did see you again a couple hours later. He was locking up his classroom ready to leave at the end of the day finding you through the door's window. His steps faltered, head turning as he looked at his surroundings. Then, he was pushing the door open letting himself into the studio. The other side of the room was all glass windows since it face the courtyard but it was dark out there. In the room all the lights were off too minus a lamp by your table and a light above the sink.

You turned instantly with the sound of the door finding him standing by it. He ran his fingers through his hair that had been casually combed back. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his corduroy slacks with his tote bag hanging off his shoulder. He licked his lips nervously, "I just came to let you know that the custodian will be around."

"Thank you for the reminder sir," you said with your back to him to hide a playful smile, "Or is it Taehyung? I forgot."

His breath hitched as he stared at you from across the room. You turned to look at him, the lamp above your head creating a shadow in your facial feature but appearing like a spotlight only for you. It made him feel further into the shadow at the corner he stood. He really wanted you, but it just didn't feel like he should. He was your mentor. He was nine years older. You were a college student and he was your teacher. It definitely wasn't right. But he was just so attracted to you in this moment.

"Well it depends on what we're doing," he answered absentmindedly realizing a second too late his response was flirty. He had no reason to be in the studio at this moment but he made up an excuse to go in anyway just because he wanted to see you again.

When you finished cleaning up you were walking toward him. He looked down at you through a hazy gaze as you reached for the door handle pulling it open. Taehyung simply followed behind calmly as you spoke, "Did you have a good weekend?"

His pace slowed for a second trying to unravel your question and the subtle approach you took. He's quickly realizing you're a bit promiscuous. Your nonchalant hints of something more that only he could understand but everyone else thought nothing of it. You were a tease but you hid it so well. He thought for a moment about how to word his response, "My weekend was great, and yours?"

"Oh it was really fun," you answered as the two of you walked down the path through the courtyard, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

"Mhm," Taehyung hummed in acknowledgment looking around again to see if anyone was around, "I can imagine what that's like. Hopefully you have more like it."

Your eyes met in a side glance as the split in the sidewalk separating the parking lot from your bus stop. He played with his keys like he did the night at the lounge bar, "Going to wait for a bus?"

"That's the plan unfortunately, unless someone were to come around and take me home," you said with a shrug looking away from him the further you walked down your split sidewalks. Teahyungs voice the further he got from you, "I'm sure someone would love to drive you home."

So you said your farewells and you sat at the bus stop nervously. Maybe you were a little too obvious with you felt and he was probably worried. He most likely regretted getting involved with you.

Of course that was the opposite. He knew he shouldn't but really it was because of the university. Aside from that there was nothing wrong with being attracted to someone younger. You were both adults. That's why he was rushing to his car pulling out of the driveway and going around the corner to the bus stop. He waited a few yards back from the bus stop flashing his emergency lights at you and in an instant you were up and walking to the car. He rolled the window down flashing you a smile as you opened the door.

He did end up giving you a lift but it wasn't to your apartment, it was to his.

"I don't know if I'm going crazy, but I've got this feeling that you're seeing someone," Jungkook told you with narrowed eyes. He was currently walking you to your class before going home. He always had shorter days than you and Bora since he worked in the afternoon but he always hung out with you two.

"I'm not seeing anyone," you told him simply as the two of you walked along the sidewalk. Jungkook just hummed in acknowledgment as he carried your canvas for you.

"Yeah, sure you aren't," Jungkook responded, "You don't have to tell me if it's supposed to be a secret. Is it supposed to be a secret? Oh my god are you dating someone in a relationship?"

"Why would I become a homewrecker when I've been cheated on?" You asked him clearly displeased with his assumption. He shrugged staring down the hall to the studio, "I'm just curious why you're keeping it on the low. Is he like, not someone you should be with?"

"I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not seeing anyone," you responded back to him entering your classroom. Taehyung was standing at his desk watching everyone walk in when he noticed the same tatted guy helping you with your canvas.

"Jungkook! Hey man, what are you doing here?" One of the other students called out to him. It was Seungjin, he was in your department and you knew each other better through Jungkook. Occasionally you'd talk but not always. He came over to where you and Jungkook were to talk as you got all your things settled.

Taehyung found you standing in the middle of two guys smiling over whatever they said watching the one with tattoos pull you into his side. Technically, class hasn't started but he can't stand the sight. Just a couple days ago you were wrapped in your professor's bedsheets sleeping soundly next to him. Now you're here with two guys your own age who were making you smile and laugh.

He shouldn't be surprised you had a lot of male friends. You were clearly well known around campus and people always approached you during class. Even at your job he found all the guys behind the counter trying to impress you with whatever. Even Jimin and Yoongi commented on your looks so really, this was normal. You had a boyfriend before of six months who cheated on you—which Taehyung would never understand why—but you also told him about other past relationships. Taehyung felt like he was different than your usual type and though he could say the same about you, right now he's getting annoyed.

He smiled down at the papers on his desk but it was anything but genuine. It was a forced smile to remind himself it was alright. It's not like you two could be forward with what's happening, not until you at least graduate next spring. As his class began to fill he finally had the nerve to approach you. If he could just get any guy your age away from you that'd be great. He was 30, he couldn't compete with all the college guys who surrounded you, had the same energy as you, got the same references. Taehyung's a millennial for Christ's sake, you're a Gen Z.

He made his round toward you well calculated. He greeted other students along the way to seem natural before he zoned in on where you were. He got close enough just in time to hear his student, Seungjin, speak, "Let's go drinking tonight, bring Hoseok with too. He hasn't been around in a while."

"Alright so us three and Hoseok? Should I tell Bora too?" Jungkook asked.

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you can continue this conversation outside of the art room," Taehyung's voice was bitter. He didn't want you going out with three guys tonight. He wants to order pizza for the two of you while you go into detail about your art piece for the Spring exhibition at your place. It was definitely a college student's place. He only went in the morning he dropped you off home after spending the night with him. You invited him in for a drink and he was too curious to say no.

Compared to his neat, bachelor pad, yours was chaotic. His place was clean, dark, and modern. Yours was ecliptic, slightly unorganized with paints and brushes everywhere. Thick woven throw blankets and patterned pillows. Hanging plants that were halfway between dying and thriving. You had vinyls piled in a corner with books. You had colored LED lamps, it was basically like a hippie fest at your place. He liked it though, compared to his place yours was warm and welcoming. He liked that he could see little pieces of you everywhere he turned.

When he first moved into his own place it felt cold. He never lived on his own like that. From his childhood when he lived with his family to college when he lived with roommates and finally when he lived with his ex wife.

Jungkook looked up at your professor who seemed slightly out of focus staring at your canvas. Jungkook's never gotten an up close look at him but Bora was right, he was an attractive guy and you seemed slightly awkward now that he was here. He looked between you two, his best friend senses tingling when he watched the way Taehyung bit into his lower lip when you brushed your fingers through your hair. Seungjin was too busy apologizing to the man telling him they'll get right to work.

"Sorry Professor Kim, I'll get going now," Jungkook said warily as he went and shoved your head to the side playfully, "Am I picking you up after?"

Before you could respond Taehyung was cutting in, "Actually I've asked miss Y/n to stay behind, we've got some discussing to do about her piece for the Spring Art Exhibit."

Obviously he hadn't but you didn't even dare to deny his claims looking to Jungkook, "I'll text you, go, you're interrupting class time."

"Once again, I apologize sir, I'll be leaving now," Taehyung had to resist the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded. Jungkook bowed respectfully before turning around to leave, glancing back at you two to catch your Professor glaring at Seungjin who was pulling his things closer to you.

Jackpot, Jungkook thought when his eyes caught sight of a small purple bruise peaking out from under the collar of the professor's shirt. He was clearly seeing someone too and Jungkook's curious to know who.

Taehyung returned to the front of the room after continuing his round around his students and started his lecture on surrealism. Seungjin sat next to you now that he'd been talking to you and Jungkook and you didn't mind. You'd hung out with him a few times outside of class and he was fun to be around. Still though, you couldn't focus on what he would say when you were so focused on Taehyung.

Had he been jealous because of them? Or was he annoyed that you were delaying class time? After class would he keep you around to tell you, 'Just because we're having sex doesn't mean you can do whatever you want in my class' or was that just an excuse so Jungkook wouldn't be able to pick you up?

"Sir if it's alright with you, I'd like to discuss my work for the exhibit too," another student pointed out at the end of class. Taehyung huffed in annoyance as he looked up to find you waiting as well. You looked away, "I could always come after my last class? That way you two could discuss privately?"

He tried hiding his smile. Obviously he wanted you alone, not with another student there so he nodded in agreement watching you leave. He had to work on keeping things lowkey. You're way better at it than he is. To be fair he's been out of the game for ten years and he never had to keep a relationship a secret before.

"Perfect! I was just coming to find you, are you coming with Jungkook and I to find costumes for the party this weekend?" Bora asked once you'd left the classroom.

"What party?" You asked confused. She gasped dramatically, "The costume party! Halloween in Spring, as Hobi calls it. Jungkook's waiting by the gate."

"I've still got one more class and then I've gotta meet Professor Kim and talk about the Spring Exhibit," you told her.

Bora laughed, "Yeah you should have your discussion while riding his face."

"What?" You sounded on edge and it only made Bora laugh harder.

"I'm kidding obviously, but I'd gladly sit on his face," Bora said with a shrug, "Alrighty then, text me later and I can go shopping with you tomorrow if you don't have time today. Jungkook and I are just going to get an idea before we meet up with the others tonight for drinks."

"K, bye love you," you waved her goodbye as you went to your last class for the day. You couldn't focus on it though, not when you kept thinking about Taehyung. That's why the second it was over you were rushing over to his room.

Luckily there was no one around when you let yourself in and he barely gave you a glance before pointing to a box of painting palettes, "Mind helping carry those to the storage room?"

You nodded taking the box as he took another one before walking you to the back of the room. He opened the door to storage room and let you in first looking around through the windows to make sure nobody was watching. Then, he entered closing the two of you in as you set the boxes down. The second he turned to you, you were jumping in his arms. Taehyung's hands went to your waist holding you up as your lips met in a hungry kiss that had him groaning in want.

After some time kissing like that he set you back down but his arms didn't leave your waist keeping you close. He looked down at you, "What are you doing this weekend? Let's go out of town."

You made a pout that had his eyes rounding in curiosity and anticipation searching yours for answers. You looked down hugging around his middle section, "My friend's throwing this costume party on Saturday and everyone I know is going. If I don't go they're going to get suspicion."

"Well just tell them you'll be seeing someone but you're keeping it private," he said hopefully squeezing you in his hold a little more. You just fit so perfectly in his arms despite the taboo of it all.

"I've tried but they won't quit. Trust me, once Jungkook and Bora get suspicious that's a wrap. Jungkook is like a ducking detective when it comes to other people's business," you explained watching the way his jaw clenched as he looked away from you sadly. You rested your head on him, "What about next weekend? Are you free then?"

"I'm free, I can make reservations now," Taehyung said biting his lip, "Alright I'll go out first, make sure the coast is clear."

You nodded watching him turn to the door before stopping to look back at you, "Since I can't spend the weekend with you, maybe you can give me tonight? We can order in, watch a movie..." He seemed strangely nervous as he spoke.

Jungkook and Seungjin did make dinner plans tonight but you didn't care much about that. You'd rather get laid and spend the night with a guy who interests you. You don't want to jump into things so quickly because you could easily get hurt. It didn't change the fact that you felt safe and comfortable with him. Even when you just saw him as a mentor, yeah he could be strict but he was also very good at consolation. He'd constantly tell you how talented you were and that you shouldn't forget that even when you're feeling down.

Then obviously you're getting closer to him so it's not bad to want to spend time together. Were you dating? Not that you know of? Would you consider him to be the only man you're sleeping with? Yes. Could say that same about him to you? Probably? He didn't seem like the type to mess around with just anyone and you've been talking on the phone on nights you can't see each other.

"Then, should I wait for you down the street?" You asked once he signed that the coast was clear. You both left the room stalling as you got to the door.

"Of course, make sure you do your school work too."

"Yes sir, I'll work on it tonight," you said as the two of you stood outside now. He bit his lip to hide a smile, "Well have a good night."

"You two, thank you," you said your goodbyes as you walked in opposite directions. Then, like a constant cycle, he was picking you up in his car.

On Friday night you spent the night at Taehyung's place. It's crazy how quick the two of you have progressed but it didn't feel forced. It's like, when it was just you two you could forget about the fact he was your professor. Even when he'd quite literally tutor you for some of your required course it didn't feel like he was your teacher.

The main reason you spent the night is because you wouldn't be able to see him this weekend other than Saturday morning. Tonight you'll have Hobi's party and you had to work Sunday and Monday night. You had already dedicated next week as crunch time for your paintings so you really weren't going to be seeing him outside of class and the art studio.

So, he drove you about fifty minutes out of the city to some expensive rooftop restaurant for lunch. You wanted to spend as much of today as you could with him before Bora would be getting to your house to get ready for tonight. The restaurant was far enough and way too expensive for any of your class mates to be here so it was the perfect place for a nice lunch date. Taehyung clearly had money from his career and his parents so it wasn't a question that he'd want to treat you to something nice. He wore a YSL cream colored button up shirt and black slacks while you wore a little black dress.

The two of you walked in with linked arms letting the hostess lead you to a table while you talked. You look extra pretty today. You wore light make up that accentuated your features and your hair was styled in a way that really suited you. He couldn't keep his eyes off you, if he could he would've noticed the waking nightmare about to cross paths with him.

"Tae?" His blood ran cold as the two of you looked up, the hostess waiting at your table for the two of you. You stared at the woman and man in front of you. She looked you up and down and you did the same shamelessly. She had black hair up to her shoulders and bright red lipstick. She wore a white blouse and grey pencil skirt. An ugly pencil skirt in your opinion.

"Jihyun..." Taehyung cleared his throat and it didn't take you long to realize who this woman was. The man was quiet but he looked uncomfortable yet you felt his eyes travel down to your exposed legs. You knew this must be his ex wife and you expected Taehyung to take his arm away from your hold. It must be awkward for him to be seen with you. You were obviously sticking out from the more mature group in appearance.

"Oh, uh, it's nice to see you doing well," Jihyun said with a forced smile. You wondered if the man was the coworker she cheated on Taehyung with. His arm almost pulled you even closer to his side, "Yes, I am doing well. Oh, this is Y/n."

You gave them a tight smile leaning into Taehyung more. He smiled at that, "It looks like our table is ready so we'll get going now."

"Was that your ex?" You asked once the two of you were to the table. Taehyung nodded before flashing you a smile, "But let's not think about that. This is our first official date so let's make the most of it before we have to get going."

Without thinking you leaned across the table and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before going back to looking at the menu. Before the food arrived you excused yourself to the restroom. It was windy and you could not have your hair all over the place. While you were in there you reapplied a light layer of lipgloss as a stall opened.

You couldn't believe your luck when the cheating hag—you mean Jihyun—came out. It made you smile a little as you wiped up the corners of your lips. She gave you a look as she went to wash her stupid musty hands right next to you.

"Taehyung seems to be doing well lately," Jiyeon said washing her hands. It was the second time she'd said it like she expected him to be crying in his room, "I've known him for a very long time an—"

"I don't really care how long you've known him," you flashed her a perfectly fake smile, "And of course he's doing well. Why wouldn't he?"

Jihyun pursed her lips in annoyance, "I'm surprised when he didn't introduce you as someone he's seeing. He only said your name, it's very strange."

If Taehyung wasn't going to do anything that's alright but she's clearly judging your appearance and possibly your age and relationship with him too.

"I really like your skirt," you added with another fake smile, "Only some women can pull off that kind of look. Unfortunately it's not for me, it's too bland?"

She scoffed as she ran her hands under the sink water, "It's office attire, but you look a little too young to know anything about that."

"Oh to be young and beautiful, do you miss those days?" You said finally closing your little handbag. In fact she was only 30 but if she was going to act like this then you would too. You ran your fingers through your hair one last time and check the back of your dress in the mirror, "I'll go first since Tae is waiting for me."

You began to walk away, Jihyun stayed at the mirror for a second trying to process what is happening. You must've been more important than she thought because it looked like you clearly knew who she was. You were bitchy but that wasn't the main problem. The main problem was that you were... everything Jihyun wished she could be when she was younger. She doesn't know your age but Taehyung was surprised he could even attract someone like you. The Taehyung she knew would never be into someone like you.

He had always had a sort of timid, mysterious nature on the outside and Jihyun had been the same. That's why it was so easy for them two to get close so long ago. Jihyu had always felt insecure when it came to the confident appearance as girls like you but Taehyung always assured her he never cared for looks like that. Clearly that been nothing but a lie if he is with you.

She barely made it out the restroom's entrance when she stopped in her tracks.

She had a clear view of your table, right by the glass ledge of the rooftop. Taehyung's smile was bright as he laughed over something you said and when she looked closer his hand was in yours.

He had never been the type to be openly affectionate. It had been years since he last looked at her that way. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but Taehyung had never looked at her with that gleam in his eyes like he was giving you.

"Can I come over tonight?" You asked tracing swils with your finger on his hand, "After the party I mean or will that be too late?"

You're not sure if Taehyung seeing his ex actually affected him or if he was genuinely okay but whatever it was you wanted to make sure he was okay. He already told you he'd be playing tennis later with his friends but later tonight maybe he'd want to see you.

"Hm, it will be late but I can pick you up from the party if you don't care. I don't want you driving a cab so late especially if you'll be drinking," he said as he used his free hand to eat while the other held yours.

"Aw, sir aren't you just so sweet? Maybe we can reenact our first night together in my bunny costume tonight," you said it to tease him but you were also being serious. He was so attractive you swear you could just eat him up.

Taehyung nearly choked on his water but he couldn't help but smile, "it's barely noon and you're already thinking of that?"

He felt the tip of your foot against his leg, pulling on his pant leg teasingly. You gave him an innocent smile, "No, I just think about you and then I think about how much I want you."

He placed a kiss to your knuckles, "Always so eager."

"For you."

::.

this flopped so bad last time so pls YALL 😭

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#kim taehyung #Taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung drabble #kim taehyung bts #taehyung au #bts taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung oneshot #taehyung angst #taehyung #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #taehyung one shot #bts

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rubysunnday · 2 years

Text

nothing ever lasts forever

a/n: if any of you saw the edit i posted to everybody wants to rule the world - that's where this has come from

summary: Anthony Bridgerton refused to even entertain the idea that Y/N Elliot could become his viscountess. She was the perfect woman and a perfect friend. But that was precisely the problem. If he married her, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from falling in love - and he'd made a vow to himself, that that would be the last thing he'd do.

"You, my lord, look as if you are contemplating murder."

Anthony jumped. He turned his head sharply to the right, looking at the woman who had just spoken.

Y/N Elliot beamed at him as she approached, holding two glasses of lemonade and a small plate of cakes. "Apologies, I did not mean to startle you."

"No apology necessary, I was in my own head. It has been a rather overwhelming evening, Miss Elliot."

"I have heard," Y/N said. Her lips quirked into a smile and she handed Anthony one glass of lemonade. "I would offer you some whiskey, but I do not believe that Lady Danbury has any out."

"I will take anything, at this moment," Anthony replied, taking a big gulp of the sour liquid.

Y/N stood beside him, looking out at the ballroom. She had known Anthony for a few years now - they had formed a bond at the Greenwich ball back in 1810 after Anthony had been forced to dance with a reluctant Y/N.

He had called on her the next morning to apologise for his foul mood and to ask her out on a promenade - strictly as friends. They had walked the length of Hyde Park and around the centre of London, talking non-stop about society and its ridiculous rules.

Ever since then, Anthony had sought Y/N out at every ball or party, looking for a companion who understood him and would not force him into a dance.

"They are not all that bad," Y/N said quietly, leaning towards him. Anthony glanced at her. "If anyone is to blame, it is their mama's for raising them that way."

Anthony chuckled, shaking his head. "I did think you young ladies were taught how to dance."

"Does not mean we are any good at it," Y/N countered. "Most of them are all looks."

"Yes, I did discover that... no one is capable of any worthwhile conversation," Anthony grunted, setting his empty lemonade glass aside and putting his arms behind his back.

"Ah, unfortunately, most mamas view intelligence as a negative trait. They would rather their daughter's butchered Beethoven than read a book."

"I would not mind the lack of conversation if they could play something nice."

Y/N chuckled, breathing in deeply. "Well, you might be asking too much of London's high society."

"All I want is a young lady who will make a good Viscountess and who will bear my children and look after my sister's. I do not need them to love me - nor do I want them to. I simply want a Viscountess."

Y/N tried not to show her surprise, nor slight horror, at Anthony's statement. Of course, she knew the man was a Rake - in fact, his announcement of his intent to marry that season had left her speechless. But she had thought he wanted to marry for love - not just for the sake of it.

"My lord, you make it sound as if you want a machine for a wife."

"Well, it would certainly make this entire debacle significantly easier."

Y/N moved, standing in front of him. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Have you even considered finding a love match? Instead of searching for the most suitable candidate as if it is a job you are trying to fulfil."

Anthony stilled. "It complicates everything. Love shall have no place in my marriage. Please excuse me, Miss Elliot."

Y/N opened her mouth, wanting to hold Anthony accountable for what he had just said, but the viscount was swiftly walking away and over to his brother, smiling politely at every young lady he passed.

"Was that Viscount Bridgerton I saw you talking to?"

Y/N groaned. "Mama -"

"Did he ask you to dance?"

"Mama -"

"Did he?"

"No, mama. You know our relationship is strictly a friendship - there is no romance there."

"Apologies." Y/N's mother put a gloved hand on her daughter's arm. "He seems to have rattled you, dearest."

Y/N sighed softly. "I thought..." she paused, trailing off. "I thought that, if he was not after love, he would at least be after friendship."

"Yet he has not looked at you twice since his announcement."

Y/N nodded sadly, closing her eyes for a moment. "Whilst I know I should not let it get to me," she inhaled heavily, "he is a man who deserves love and I cannot understand why he seems so determined to forsake it. To forsake love or friendship."

"He is an enigma, darling. I would not let it trouble you - he has clearly made his mind up about his future. Now," Y/N groaned, sensing her mother's change in tone, "how about I go and introduce you to Mr Thomas Dorset and you take a turn about the ballroom with him?"

"Mama, I do not -"

"Just do this for me," Y/N's mother said, squeezing her hand. "Please."

Y/N relented, slumping. "Fine."

Hyacinth was unhappy. It had taken her a few days to figure out why she was unhappy, but one look at her brother explained everything. She knew what Anthony wanted in a wife - well, not the full extent, but enough to know he was being an idiot.

"Hyacinth, you have been staring at me for the past ten minutes," Anthony said, folding the corner of his newspaper down, and staring back at her. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing, brother."

"Hyacinth -"

"Why have you not considered Miss Elliot for a wife?"

Anthony choked on his tea, almost dropping the cup as he spluttered and coughed. "Pardon me?"

"Well, I just thought, since you do not want to love someone, why not marry a friend? It seems like a reasonable agreement."

"Hyacinth, I... I am sure Miss Elliot has many other suitors who can offer her a happier life -"

"She does not," Francesca chimed in, sitting down next to her brother, a notebook in hand. She flipped it open and leafed through a few pages. "She is courting Mr Dorset, at the minute - a man, I know for a fact, she only considers a friend."

"She is courting Dorset?"

"That is what I just said - dear lord, have the debutante's deafened you with their pianoforte?" Francesca asked, scrunching her brow up as she stared at her brother.

Anthony looked down at his newspaper for a moment. "Since when was she courting Dorset?"

Francesca, taking pity on the fact her brother had clearly been blindsided by the news, slid a copy of Lady Whistledown his way, taking his newspaper from him. "It arrived this morning."

Dearest readers,

It would appear that this season has begun with a rather exciting development. Miss Y/N Elliot - the close 'friend' of one Viscount Bridgerton - has been seen promenading with Mr Thomas Dorset. It would appear that, despite his mama proclaiming his desire to wed, in front of every eligible lady at the Danbury Ball last week, Viscount Bridgerton has missed the most suitable candidate from his list: Miss Y/N Elliot.

Perhaps, should the Viscount read this column, he will take it upon himself to rectify things... before it is too late.

Anthony stopped reading as Whistledown moved on to talk about the unflattering orange and yellow gown Penelope Featherington had been sporting. He held it loosely in his hand, staring at Y/N's name.

"There is obviously more than just friendship between the two of you," Francesca said softly.

Anthony belatedly realised that Hyacinth had left the room and it was just him and Francesca. He turned his head to face her, letting his conflicting emotions show.

"Would it be so bad to entertain the prospect of becoming more?" Francesca continued, her tone gentle. "She would be an excellent wife."

"I do not doubt it," he said hoarsely.

"Then what is stopping you?"

Francesca looked older than she had before as she stared intently at her eldest brother. Anthony was suddenly hit with the realization that, at some point, Francesca had grown up into a woman. A woman who knew far more about the world around her than most would.

His sister reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Anthony sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

"Is it so wrong to fight for what you want?"

"I fight for the family that I have," he replied softly. "That is why I cannot marry for love. When father died, it broke mother. She was barely there, in the months afterwards. I was only eighteen, Frannie. And I was a Viscount and a brother and a father, all at once.

"I do not want to see anyone else suffer the way mother did. I cannot be the cause of anyone's grief. It is better for everyone if I marry out of duty and not out of love. Better for me, better for you, better for Y/N - better for the entire world, I am sure."

Francesca sighed. "As much as I disagree with you, I know when there is no changing your mind."

"I appreiciate that -"

"But will you at least talk to her? Before it becomes too late for anyone to do anything without a scandal coming down around us."

Anthony nodded, swallowing thickly. "I will. I shall talk to her when she comes to Aubery Hall in a few days' time."

Anthony was avoiding Y/N.

He had promised Francesca he would talk to her, but every time he saw her, the words he wanted to say died in his throat. She spent most of her time with Dorset, arm linked with his, laughing at what he said.

It was infuriating Anthony.

And that was precisely his problem. He could not marry Y/N, even out of friendship. Because he loved her far too deeply to be able to keep the distance between them. Anthony knew that he would succumb so deeply that the feeling would overwhelm him and his plan would fail.

He could not do that to Y/N. He could not be the reason she stopped smiling and became a shell of herself. It was not fair to her, no matter how deep Anthony's feelings went.

So, he stood at the side of the ballroom, trying to ignore how empty and dull it felt without her presence, and watched as she danced with Dorset and Fife and smiled in all the right places.

As much as he wanted to look away, he couldn't. Because even as his heart ached, she was still so beautiful.

He was beginning to see her in his dreams - and when his work became too mundane, Anthony began to hallucinate her laughter. He found himself unable to think about anything else but Y/N. Before, he had managed to contain it - to lock it away in a box and hide it. But now... it was everywhere and there was no catching it.

Sundays were often the quietest days in the Bridgerton household. Nothing really happened and it allowed Anthony a moment of calm to finish the work he'd had since Monday and to maybe go for a walk around the grounds, taking a moment to himself.

It had rained the night before, thunder rumbling out right above Aubery Hall. The majority of the guests staying within the giant house were in their rooms, finding ways to occupy their time until lunch.

Anthony, however, took the solitude and the slightly damp ground and decided to go for a walk. He went down to the stables, checking in on his horse. He walked around the gardens, stopping to admire the hyacinths and the lilies, and he strolled around the outside of Aubery Hall itself, reminiscing over memories lost to time for everyone but him.

"You are avoiding me."

Anthony swivelled on the top of the stone staircase, looking back at the door he'd just walked out of. Y/N stood there, dressed in a dark-coloured spencer jacket and a lighter-coloured gown.

"Miss Elliot, I -"

"Anthony Bridgerton, if you even dare try and lie to me right now," Y/N said, tripping over the hem of her dress as she stepped out onto the landing, "I will hit you."

"Your dress appears a little to long -"

"Mama had the hem dropped because I got new shoes and now it is too long when I wear my old shoes - stop deflecting. Why are you avoiding me?"

"I... I thought it best."

"Why?"

"I did not want to interfere with Dorset's courtship of you."

"That is the most terrible excuse I have ever heard. You were avoiding me before Mr Dorset even began courting me - in fact, you have been avoiding me since this season began."

Anthony shook his head, rocking back on his heels. "Miss Elliot, I cannot tell you why for I fear you will not understand."

"Not understand - Anthony, are you hearing yourself?" Y/N demanded, stepping close to him.

It was as if they were in a standoff. They were slowly turning, Anthony moving away from the stairs and to the door back into Aubery Hall, Y/N moving out into the open.

"Y/N, I cannot -"

"All season you have interviewed and insulted every single eligible woman in the ton. Every single one, except me." There was such fierce anger in her eyes that Anthony was actually taken aback. "Why?"

Because I love you. "Because I did not think you suitable."

Excellent response, Anthony, make the situation even worse.

"Pardon me?" Y/N said slowly, her voice dangerously calm.

"Miss Elliot, I doubt you would even begin to understand why I am doing what I am doing -"

"Of course, I will not - you are refusing to explain it to me!"

"It is not something I want you to trouble yourself with -"

"I am already troubled, my lord. I have been troubled all season because you refuse to even consider me as an option to be your wife! We are friends, are we not?"

"We are."

"Would it truly be so terrible to marry one's closest friend?" Y/N asked softly, her eyes begging Anthony to be open and honest with her.

Anthony was silent. He wanted to say that he would be honoured to marry her. That he would be marrying more than his best friend. But he could not allow himself to say the words.

The silence broke Y/N a little bit more. She inhaled sharply and took a small step back.

"I see," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I am sorry to have wasted your time, my lord."

"No, Y/N, wait, please -"

Anthony stepped forward, a hand stretched out to grab Y/N. Y/N stepped back, trying to move away from him. The hem of her dress caught the heel of her shoe, causing her to completely lose her balance. Unable to catch herself, Y/N's arms flailed, and her fingers brushed against Anthony's as she fell backwards.

Anthony felt as if time had slowed down. He could only watch as Y/N hit the steps, her head smacking with a sickening thud against the edge of the stone stairs. She rolled down to the bottom, her body limp, eventually coming to a halt at the foot of the stairs.

"Y/N!"

Anthony practically launched himself down the stairs, sending gravel flying as he fell to his knees beside her, his hands hovering over her body. He put a hand behind her head, gently feeling around, only to pull it away and find his hand covered in blood.

He rubbed his thumb against it, slowly processing what it was. As he looked back down at Y/N's unconscious form, he could see blood slowly seeping out from under her head, weaving through the gravel.

Anthony shook his head a little and forced himself to focus. He somehow managed to lift Y/N up into his arms, putting her right arm around his neck and letting her other rest on her stomach. She was a complete dead weight and he grunted as he stood up.

He stumbled back up the steps, ignoring the puddle of blood where Y/N had laid, and carried her back into the house. His voice kept catching as he yelled for servants to call a doctor and for someone to fetch blankets, his feet carrying him up the stairs and down the corridor.

Guests poked their heads out of their rooms, desperate to know what was happening, only to be ushered back inside by the staff. Anthony followed a maid down to the room Y/N was staying in. He heard Y/N's mother let out a horrified gasp, calling after her daughter as her unconscious, bleeding body was carried past her.

Anthony gently laid Y/N down on her bed, carefully lowering her head to the pillow, his fingers coming away stained with even more blood. He vaguely realized that the collar of his shirt and his cravat were both covered in blood, the once white fabric stained forever.

"She fell down the stairs outside," Anthony said as the maids rushed around, Mrs Barett, the housekeeper of Aubery Hall, effortlessly giving orders to the maids swarming the room. "Hit her head on the stone railing."

"Are you alright, my lord?" Mrs Barett asked, glancing over at Anthony as she undid Y/N's jacket, manipulating it off her body. "You are covered in blood."

"It... it is not mine," Anthony managed to get out, tripping over the words.

Mrs Barett stood up, pausing. She nodded grimly. "Alright. Lord Bridgerton, I know you do not want to leave her, but please can you step out for a moment whilst we undress her and check the rest of her body?"

Anthony nodded automatically and walked through the crowd and into the quiet corridor outside Y/N's bedroom.

"Anthony?" Colin said, pushing himself off the wall, and walking over to him. "Anthony, I saw you carry Miss Elliot inside. Are you... are you hurt?"

"It is not mine," Anthony whispered, looking up at his brother. "It is my fault. This is all my fault."

"Brother -"

"We were arguing," he continued, swaying slightly to the side. "We were arguing and she fell. She fell, Colin."

"I know," Colin said, putting a hand on Anthony's shoulder. "But it is not your fault."

"It is."

Anthony could see Y/N lying on the bed, now dressed in a night gown. She was still and her skin lacking most of its colour. Suddenly, someone blocked his view, putting a hand to the back of his neck.

"Anthony, look at me," Benedict said, his figure filling Anthony's view. "Just breathe."

Anthony looked up at his brother - the only one he had never truly had to parent - tears filling his eyes. "It's my fault."

"It's not."

"It is... it is," Anthony whispered, pitching forward.

Benedict and Colin both stepped forward, catching him between the two of them and carefully guiding him back into a chair.

"It is all my fault," Anthony repeated again, closing his eyes as he slumped into Benedict's embrace. "All my fault."

'It is not good news, I am afraid. She took a heavy blow to the head and lost a lot of blood. There may be memory loss and damage to her brain. But, with time, she should heal.

When will she wake up?

That, I do not know, my lord. '

Anthony threw his pen aside, rubbing his face and sighing. It had been a week. A whole week of bypassing Y/N's room and avoiding most of his family. The guilt was overwhelming him.

He knew he'd been awful to his family. They had been his outlet for the past week - receiving the brunt of his temper and impatience. Colin, especially, had become a regular contender.

There was a gentle knock on his study door and Anthony looked up, forcing a smile to his face at the sigh of Hyacinth poking her head inside.

"We are having tea," she said quietly, "if you would like to join us." She hesitated for a minute. "I miss you."

Anthony swallowed heavily, his eyes stinging a little. "Of course. I'll be there in a minute, Hyacinth."

Hyacinth nodded and quietly left the study. Anthony sighed, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. He didn't bother putting his jacket back on or unrolling his shirt sleeves - it was just his family.

He walked into the drawing room, sending a tight smile to the rest of his siblings. Anthony hovered awkwardly in the centre of the room, thinking of what to try and say to his siblings. All of them, aside from Hyacinth, Benedict and Francesca, were blatantly ignoring him.

"Anthony, come sit down," Francesca said gently, moving over on the sofa, creating a space next to her.

Anthony walked over to his sister, sitting down beside her. He looked up at Colin, who was looking everywhere else but at Anthony.

He and Colin had fallen out, again, over how much Colin wanted to splurge on another trip. It was always a sensitive topic - money and travel - but Colin never seemed to quite realise how privileged he was. Anthony hadn't meant to snap at him but it was the last straw.

"Colin, I wish to -"

"Did you hear something, brother?" Colin asked, turning to Benedict.

"Colin!" Francesca snapped, glaring at him.

"Our dear Viscount has already made his opinion of my activities very clear," Colin muttered, looking at his plate.

"Alright, that is enough," Francesca said, setting her tea cup aside. "You are acting like a child, Colin."

"How is this my fault?" Colin exclaimed.

Anthony closed his eyes as the bickering resumed once more. He knew he shouldn't have joined them - whenever he did he ruined the mood.

Violet could hear her children arguing before entering the drawing room. She had just walked past Y/N's room and seen her sitting up and smiling at her mother. Telling Anthony in front of everyone was probably not a good idea - but Violet was desperate for her children to stop arguing and she knew Colin was one harsh word away from completely alienating his elder brother.

Perhaps a show of emotion - real emotion - from her eldest would make them realise that he was still their brother.

"Anthony," Violet said, walking into the drawing room. The argument stopped abruptly as everyone turned expectantly to their mother.

Anthony's head shot up and he looked at her, his eyes wide. Violet could tell that, for a minute, pure panic gripped Anthony. But as she smiled at him and nodded once, the panic faded to relief.

"She's awake?" Anthony croaked, staring at his mother.

Violet nodded. "I spoke to her just now."

Anthony smiled tightly, nodding furiously. His face crumpled abruptly and he let exhaled shakily, covering his face with his hands. Every emotion he had been trying to hide for the last week hit him all at once and he just broke.

There was a slightly awkward silence as his siblings stared at him but Anthony simply no longer cared. A gentle hand rested on his back and he moved his hands away from his face, turning his head to the right and facing his sister.

Francesca looked at him, her eyes full of sympathy. She knew Anthony better than perhaps the rest of his siblings. Anthony leant back against the sofa, exhaling heavily. Francesca grabbed his hand with both of hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of his.

"It's ok," she said softly. "You can cry. It's just us."

Anthony smiled sadly, pressing his lips together tightly as he felt a sob threatening to break through. "I know."

Violet, who had been standing in the middle of the room, watching, walked over to him, perching on the arm of the sofa. "I know how hard your father's death was on you. And I can only apologise for how absent I was during that time. But you must know... despite everything I suffered during those months, I do not regret loving your father as much as I did.

"It is only because I loved him as much as I did that I ached as much as I did." Violet rubbed her hand up and down Anthony's arm, pressing a kiss to his head. "You cannot lose her, Anthony. Do not lose her."

Y/N set her book down on her bed and sighed. She looked out the window and out over the grounds of Aubery Hall. Anthony had not visited her since she'd woken up. She wasn't entirely sure what she was expecting from him but it hurt, nonetheless.

Knowing sleep was simply not going to come, Y/N clambered out of bed and put on her robe, tying it at the front. She gently opened the door to her room and walked out into the corridor, trying to be quiet so as not to disturb anyone else.

Y/N walked down the stairs and paused at the bottom, turning to look at Anthony's study. There was a gentle glow coming from under the door and Y/N knew he was awake. He was always awake.

She heistated for a moment, not wanting to cause him anymore anxiety. But her desire for closure and to know why he had been ignoring her, won, and Y/N padded over to the door, twisting the door knob and pushing it open.

Anthony looked up as his study door opened and he stilled as Y/N poked her head around the door.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," Anthony said, standing up. "Should you not be in bed, resting?"

"I think I have had enough rest," Y/N replied. "It's late."

Anthony glanced down at his pile of paperwork. "I have too much to do."

"I can -"

"No, stay," Anthony said abruptly. He swallowed, pausing. "Please."

Y/N stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her. "I have questions."

"I know," Anthony replied, stepping out from behind his desk and approaching her, meeting her halfway. "I was a fool. You deserve to know the truth."

"Ok," Y/N said, nodding. "Where do you want to start?"

Anthony gestured to the leather chairs in front of his desk and Y/N sat down in one, gently straightening her rob. Anthony sat down in the one to her left and cleared his throat.

"When my father died... my mother was a ghost. She barely existed in the months afterwards and the grief almost killed her. Whilst she does not remember most of that time, I remember every waking moment. I can still hear her wails and screams."

Anthony paused, taking a shaky breath in. Y/N waited patiently, not wanting to rush him.

"When I married, I decided it should be free of the ravages of grief. Because I could never be the cause of such pain. No matter how hard-hearted and cruel everyone else may find me to be. My own family included."

He turned to face Y/N, his walls entirely broken. She watched him with an utterly serene, understanding expression on her face.

"Y/N, the reason I never considered you is because I love you," Anthony said hoarsely. "And I could not do that to you. My father lived until the age of thirty-eight and I can not see myself outliving him in any way. I did not want to cause anyone any grief when I die, which is why I searched for a marriage without love."

"By your estimation, you have nine years left?"

"Yes."

"OK, then," Y/N said softly, nodding.

"You're not going to tell me I'm being silly?"

"It is a perfectly reasonable reaction to have considering what you went through," Y/N told him. "I don't expect you to get past this either - you probably won't be able to, not until you turn thirty-nine, at least. But you cannot live the rest of your life in fear of this. You cannot let it control you."

Anthony sniffled, wiping his eyes furiously. "Y/N, if we only have nine years together -"

"Then they," Y/N said, standing up and walking over to Anthony, crouching down in front of him, a hand on his knee, "will be the best years of my life. Time does not indicate how much you love a person. Whether we have nine years together or twenty, I will love you just as much as I do right now."

Anthony closed his eyes, letting his head hang. His shoulders shook as he began to sob and Y/N gently pulled Anthony into her chest, guiding him to the floor. Anthony clung to Y/N as he sobbed, hiding his face in her robe.

Y/N and Anthony sat there on the floor, holding one another, in the dark of the study, crying. He had opened up to her and told her the brutally honest truth - and Y/N had caught him as he crumbled and kept him upright, never letting go.

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine

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puzzlekinq · 9 months

Note

pls write anything for edward ily

using this as an excuse to post horny eddie headcanons >:3 (i love you too!!)

edward nashton x gn reader nsfw headcanons

amab reader inclusive !!

cw: pegging, power dynamics, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, jealousy, possessive behavior.

—

♡ okay first off. its 3 inches soft, 5 inches hard, pink tip, very thick. stretches you out very nicely.

♡ frequently jerks off. (insert paul dano chronic masturbater image) he has to beat his meat at least a couple times a day. plus i think he'd wake up with morning wood constantly. he has to crank one out as quick as he can if he doesnt want to be late for work, or else hes going in public with a hard on. (he's done it before and it was agony. its your fault he was hard. what have you done)

♡ he would never tell a single soul what kind of porn he watches. but i will, because im the one writing this post

♡ hes embarrassed about how much he enjoys the idea of you pegging him if ya dont have the necessary bits. the first video he watched of someone absolutely railing a guys ass, he got so painfully hard in an instant. ended up not being able to keep himself quiet as he furiously stroked his throbbing dick while he clamped his hand over his mouth for some sort of noise control.

♡ the first time he tried to fuck his own ass was a challenge. yes, his fingers sufficed, they were long enough to reach the right spot, but he didnt know lube was necessary (inexperienced virgin moment) so he just stuck them in dry, and that along with the pain of stretching himself open made for an unpleasant insertion. but he eventually got the hang of it and shot a massive load all over his stomach in like three minutes.

♡ huge praise kink. i'd say he has more of a thing for being praised than degraded, although he likes both. nobody has said a kind word to him in his life, rarely even a simple "thank you". he needs you to tell him hes good, that hes doing so well taking your strap, devouring your cunt, sucking your cock- anything. he just wants to hear that hes doing a good job, and that someone thinks positively of him for once, in a non-sexual context as well.

♡ but he also enjoys when youre a little mean to him in the bedroom, of course. he fucking loves being manhandled, choked, slapped, spit on, or having his dick or ass used just for your pleasure.

♡ LOVES EATING PUSSY!!!! the taste, the smell, the slick and cum all over his face while he grinds against the mattress, getting off to your moans- its all so incredibly hot to him. he'll literally beg to eat you out.

♡ loves sucking dick too!!! he loves taking your cock as far down his throat as he can, usually ending up gagging on it, but hes trying his best. and you know, practice makes perfect, and god, does he love practicing on you. your groans as you push his head down further onto your dick is enough to make him cream his pants. loves when you cum all over his face!!!! he prefers tasting you though.

♡ will cum too fast if he doesnt control himself, and thats why he'll edge himself for as long as you need. the overstimulation from edging feels so fucking good to him, so he really doesnt mind at all if chasing your orgasm takes a while. he gets so drunk off fucking you, he could spend the entire day rutting into your slick warmth.

♡ he can simulate that fantasy by letting you cockwarm him all night, or while hes doing paperwork, or just when youre cuddling on the couch. he cant get enough of being inside of you, he always wants more.

♡ sometimes he'll have to pull out of you and squeeze the base of his cock while he takes slow breaths to stop himself from cumming, his bottom lip crushed painfully between his teeth as sweat drips from his forehead, eyes squeezed shut while he lets out several high pitched whimpers at every exhale. its a pretty sight.

♡ hes veryyy vocal. even if he tried to be quiet he cannot shut up to save his life. has to at least whisper frantic, slurred praises into your ear about how good you feel, how beautiful/handsome/amazing you are, and how you take his cock so well like your holes were made to fit him inside of you, like a puzzle piece- his way of putting it into words.

♡ you were the missing piece in his life for so long, being inside of you is the closest he'll ever get to becoming one with a devine being such as you. he truly does worship you.

♡ hes even louder when hes close, rambling about how bad he wants to fill your tight little hole with his cum, and how good you feel milking his cock.

♡ he loves to edge you as much as he does to himself. your desperate pleads and whines for release, the release that is in his power to take away from you, gives him a blissful feeling of control. he'll make you beg for him to keep fucking you with his fingers, stroking your dick- whatever it would be, he wants to hear you cry for him. he thinks youre so lovely when you cry.

♡ he can be mean about it too. sometimes he'll listen and keep pleasuring you, but goes agonizingly slow, just to hear you beg for it harder, faster, just to make your pretty eyes gloss over with tears. he'll just giggle at you looking so pathetic under him, the knowledge of the state you're in being because of what hes doing to you gets him so excited.

♡ wipes away your tears with his thumb while mockingly cooing about how he knows it hurts, but youre just not asking nice enough.

♡ it honestly just gives him a major power trip. he's like this more often when he's in his riddler getup. you know, the thing about being his true self under the mask, no shame, no limits, blah blah.

♡ not to say he cant be submissive when hes the riddler. because you can totally make him drop the scary, dominant act in like 2 seconds. hes not as tough as he feels in the costume.

♡ but if you let him indulge in his heightened ego he'll make sure you cant even stand up for a couple hours. he got too sillygoofy (wrecked ur guts with his dick) sorry

♡ he's so easy to turn on. it's he really just you being you that gets him so worked up. woke up to your sleepy, angelic self cuddled up next to him? horny. you gave him a hug that lingered for too long? horny. youre wearing his jacket that looks adorably big on you? MEGA HORNY.

♡ he just likes when you wear his clothes in general. he'll take any opportunity he can to offer you his clothes. he thinks you look really cute and hot in them and it gets him all flustered.

♡ he cant pick between chest, ass, or thighs. all of them are so good to him. his head between your thighs, or shoved in your chest with his tongue lapping at your nipples, or having his palm full of the plush flesh of your ass while he fucks you from behind- its all so heavenly to him.

♡ hes a tummy guy too. if you have a chubbier tummy he'll go SO nuts over it. he needs to squeeze your love handles or he'll die. he loves tummy rolls too!! he is GOING to drool over your body no matter what size or shape you are.

♡ speaking of your tummy, he likes having his hand on your stomach while he fucks you. its like a reminder of how deep inside of you he is. he loves having you full of him.

♡ loves the idea of breeding you and getting you pregnant, but if you cant, having you full of his cum is still his way of reassuring himself that you belong to him.

♡ hes very possessive when it comes to you. youre the one good thing hes ever had, and hes not letting you go. ever. and he lets you know that with the way he repeats the word "mine" like a mantra against your love bite covered neck.

♡ he gets extremely jealous easily, and the best way to make him feel better is to let him bury himself inside of you and mark up your body to alleviate his insecurities. he'll leave bruises and hickeys in very noticeable spots, and be like "oops, sorry 🥺" but hes absolutely not. he did it on purpose as his way of telling all of gotham "fuck you, theyre mine."

—

oki doki im gonna stop there or this post is gonna be way too long . i have lots of Thoughts about this guy bfgdudhdh i hope this is like. good. or decent

#edward nashton #the riddler #paul dano riddler #riddler 2022 #dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #the riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x you #the riddler x you #the riddler 2022 #2022 riddler #paul dano x reader smut #paul dano x reader #paul dano x you #the riddler smut #edward nashton smut #riddler smut

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pyreo · 5 days

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I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)

So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?

It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.

He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.

And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.

And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.

He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...

Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.

'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'

He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.

Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-

Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.

He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.

Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.

There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.

And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.

Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.

This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #long post #yeah im sorry dungeon meshi good i'm posting through it

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catscidr · 4 months

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YANDERE DOTTORE X READER JAHEKWHZBAKNA

happy to see most dottore enjoyers sharing the same braincell. even happier to provide that good good dottore content (〃ﾉωﾉ) answering two asks in the same post bc it would be too repetitive if i made them separate agshfjns- next post will feature either childe or al haitham (depending on which one i finish first) (giving everyone a break from dottore for a hot sec) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore (obvs), not quite proofread, dottore is named zandik in the mini-fic includes: gn!reader, dottore, his clones are kinda there, pierro and the tsaritsa are also mentionned. a handful of headcanons + a mini-fic wc: 1,8k

-ˋˏ Despite what most people might think, Dottore isn’t a sadistic man. He only hurts people if it’s necessary- if it helps with his research- and even then, it’s not like he enjoys inflicting pain, he enjoys the knowledge he gathers as a result of such experiments

-ˋˏ ...That doesn't apply with you though. He likes to see you squirm, to do things that make you react, whether positively or negatively. He’s that desperate and needy

-ˋˏ He’s a man that doesn’t go out much because of his work. So how could you blame him for wanting your attention?

-ˋˏ I think he’d be the type of yandere to just be incredibly obsessed with you. Always having someone checking in on you (his segments, of course) to report back to him so he knows what you’re doing at all times, probably the type to have an entire folder with your personal information in it as if you were one of his test subjects

-ˋˏ Not to mention he would be extremely manipulative, too. Dottore is the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a handsome face with dubious intentions.

-ˋˏ He wants to have your attention 24/7, to never have you take your eyes off of him, but he can’t do that if he stays holed up in his lab. Unfortunately for him he's very clingy

-ˋˏ But Dottore is a patient man (he was able to create an artificial God y’know- that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight), so he takes his time with you- getting to know you, having his segments stalk you (he’s not the one doing it, so it’s fine, right?)

-ˋˏ You’re just like a frog in a pot boiling water. If you put it in the pot immediately, it’ll jump out as soon as it makes contact with the hot water; but if you put it in room temperature water and boil it slowly…

-ˋˏ The Harbinger knows your “relationship” isn’t an experiment, but at the same time it’s hard to say that he isn’t studying you. Having a mask that obscures his wandering eyes is definitely an advantage

-ˋˏ It doesn’t matter who you are, he would bend his schedule just for you. He’s that thoughtful! Since he’s practically his own boss (aside from various deadlines and meetings) he can do whatever he wants. Who’s going to tell him off? Pierro and the Tsaritsa don’t care how he achieves results as long as he gets results. So, expect to “accidentally” run into him more times than a regular person would

-ˋˏ You’re a fatui agent? Suddenly one of his experiments requires him to watch how soldiers (you) fight and train. You’re just a normal civilian? He’ll figure out where you work and find excuses to come see you just to chat

-ˋˏ It’s even better if you work a customer service job. You work at a cute coffee shop? What a coincidence, he loves coffee! Now he’s a regular and you know his order by heart. (I like to think he actually hates coffee but powers through the bitter taste and energetic aftermath just because it gives him an excuse to bond with you)

-ˋˏ You work at a grocery store? That’s perfect, he’ll start doing his groceries at your store from now on (you don’t point out how every week his groceries- without fail- consist of mozzarella sticks, a whole rotisserie chicken, cheap red wine, a pack of cigarettes and a singular loaf of whole wheat bread.)

-ˋˏ If you’re not in the fatui, chances are you don’t know who he is (he doesn’t go out much, after all) so it’s easier for him to play up the “good guy” role (wolf in sheep’s clothing from before nudgenudge). He’s a very smooth talker

-ˋˏ Of course, you’ve heard rumors about “the Doctor”, one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, a feared man all across Teyvat. So it’s a good thing that your new friend’s name is Zandik and he’s just a normal surgeon that works in a private hospital! Nothing suspicious, 'course not

-ˋˏ Both of you engage in small talk whenever you cross paths. He’ll ask questions about you (even though he already knows the answer to them), all so that you can feel seen and heard- who cares about him, about what he does? This is about you. He wants you to tell him everything

-ˋˏ The kind of person to use the excuse that he had a Ph.D. for a lot of things. You whine that your shoulders have been sore for longer than usual? He’ll get up from his seat and get behind you, sliding a hand just under the collar of your shirt to press and prod at your muscles to check if there’s anything wrong (good thing you can’t see his expression from behind you), saying he "knows best" whenever the (your) human body is brought up

-ˋˏ His patience isn’t endless, however. If he sees that this isn’t going anywhere, that you seem to be keeping him at arm’s length despite your “connection”, he’ll just take things into his own hands. And even though he doesn’t really get off from causing pain, he’s not afraid to make you squirm either

It wasn’t unusual for you to grab a bite to eat with the Doctor occasionally. Working at a local coffee shop had its perks; one of them being how you could make drinks for free and eat snacks at a discounted price. Though you never needed to worry about money since your friend would always tip you handsomely, basically paying you for the snacks you brought to the table.

Closing shop was easy enough when you had someone to keep you company while you swept the floor and wiped counters clean. He sat at one of the booths, cup of coffee in hand (you started making it decaf when you noticed his nose scrunch one time when he drank his usual order), watching you work idly.

“Rough day?” you ask with a gentle smile, looking over where Zandik sat. Being quite some distance away from him you couldn’t catch the twitch of the corner of his lips as he sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his face beneath his pointy mask.

“You could say that” he grumbles, laying his arms on the table, holding his cup of coffee with both hands. The man tilts his head to the side, focusing on you rather than his pesky thoughts. You put the broom away and saunter over to his booth, sitting across from him with a plate of various pastries in hand.

“What’s on your mind? Maybe I could give some advice and help! Or you’ll feel better if you just... talk about it,” you chuckle softly, taking a sip of your own drink. Zandik’s gaze never leaves your form, his gaze burning the sight of your lips into his mind.

If he told you even a smidge of what he was thinking you would, without fail, run and never look back. Even the tamest of things he’s thought about you would drive you away. From him fantasizing about how your skin would taste, to how your heart would look like in a jar on his desk when he worked... he shudders, swallowing down the urge to do something impulsive. Zandik takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes flickering from your lips to your wide, innocent eyes.

“Thank you for offering,” he begins slowly, “but that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to worry about it,” he says smoothly, losing the tension in his shoulders to seem more approachable. With the first two buttons of his shirt undone, hair lightly tousled, and overcoat thrown over the back of the booth chair, he looked nothing like the deadly Harbinger he was. Looked like an overworked businessman at most.

You puff your cheeks, disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you. You’ve been doing it this whole time, and yet he won’t talk about what was bothering him to you? It made your heart flutter- he was so considerate- but at the same time you couldn’t shake the idea that maybe he was hiding something. Inhaling slowly, you calm your nerves, deciding that today would be the day you confront him. After all, a good friendship is built on trust, and you can’t stay good friends with someone that hides things from you.

Oh, how naïve you are.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you say gently, placing one hand on his. The feel of his rough hand beneath yours made you shudder, almost instinctively- are surgeons’ hands supposed to be this rugged?

“I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been here for me...” you add, voice trailing off as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I think you’re nice to be around. Don’t I owe you for the number of times I’ve complained about customers to you?” you say, chuckling lightly at the memory.

Zandik doesn’t react, not at first. His eyes fix your face with an underlying threat, gaze hidden by his mask. Although you can’t see his eyes, a shudder runs up your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently. Where have you felt this before...

“You’re right,” he responds quietly, voice hoarse. “You owe me.”

His words caught you off guard. Owe him? That was a joke! You were trying to lighten his spirits, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him for even just a second. How come you felt your nerves screaming at you to get up?

His free hand covers the hand you had laid on his, the grip on your skin becoming firmer the longer you two sat there. Your heart rammed against your ribcage, ears ringing from the sudden wave of adrenaline washing over you.

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Zandik says in a sickly-sweet tone, leaning forward to stare at you, gaze unrelenting behind his mask. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you nod dumbly, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He grins in response.

Did he always have teeth this sharp?

“Then you won’t make my life harder than it already is by resisting, right?” he adds. You could hear how heavy his breathing had become in just a few seconds, how his hands had a death grip on your own. His cup of coffee was long forgotten; how could he possibly focus on something as useless as that when you were giving yourself to him?

The snow pelleted the windows harshly, essentially trapping you inside the coffee shop with him. Even the weather outside couldn’t compare to how cold your blood ran in the face of the Doctor; maybe if you had listened to your gut earlier you wouldn’t currently be skewered in the jaws of the shark that had been circling you for months.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x gn reader #zandik x reader #zandik x you #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #dottore headcanons

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canonicallyobserving911 · 9 days

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Buck & Eddie: An EXPLANATION (NOT AN EXCUSE) for the basketball incident

After rewatching different scenes included in 7x4, the basketball scene where Buck appears to ‘intentionally’ bump into Eddie which caused Eddie to be injured pissed me off. It frustrated me so much that I wanted to figure out why the scene was included in the episode because they were playing a friendly game of basketball and there shouldn't have been any injuries.

Even though I’m not well versed in sports, I do know enough about them to understand tackling someone usually happens in U.S. football not basketball, so the full body contact wasn’t necessary if Buck just wanted to block Eddie’s shot (get it… Buck was trying to block Tommy’s shot with Eddie, it’s a double entendre 🤪😜). The point is, I figured there had to be more to Buck’s behavior than him just being ‘jealous’ of someone he met like once a couple of weeks prior. Also, I wanted to know why Buck didn’t immediately apologize to Eddie and I think I may have found the answer.

Full Disclosure: I do NOT condone violence of any kind in any instance because it’s unacceptable behavior no matter how it’s viewed! It’s never the answer to a dispute and use of words can usually resolve a matter when there's a disagreement. In this scene BUCK DID NOT DO THAT AND I HATED IT! Therefore, his actions on the basketball court were unfathomable and it doesn’t matter if they were INTENTIONAL or not since he bumped into Eddie so hard that Eddie fell and injured his ankle. He could have broken it or received a permanent injury from it, so IT WAS NOT OK!

Before I delve into my interpretation, please understand I don’t think Buck was fully aware and I hope he wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt Eddie. However, I do think his actions were 70% subconscious and 30% conscious because he had to know on some level, that his actions were over the top especially since he told Maddie he didn’t like how he felt left out from Eddie spending time with Tommy after only two weeks.

THIS POST DOES NOT INTEND TO PROVIDE AN EXCUSE FOR BUCK’S BEHAVIORS, IT’S SIMPLY A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION FOR THEM.

Please note: these are my interpretations and observations of episode 7x4; therefore if someone doesn’t agree, it’s ok because two people can have different opinions and they can coexist. One person’s opinion about a scene or an episode doesn’t have to be like someone else’s and it doesn’t make one person’s opinion right and the other’s wrong or vice versa. Everyone consumes and interprets media differently and just because one person sees something one way and they liked it, it doesn’t make it so for someone else since everyone has different backgrounds and experiences. Please try to use GRACE when reading other’s thoughts on a matter.

Now back to the regularly scheduled program…

Don’t read below the cut if discussions and interpretations of the shooting, Eddie’s breakdown or the basketball scene are triggering.

Before you start reading, please note, THIS IS NOT ABOUT OS! HE’S THE ACTOR WHO PLAYS BUCK SO DON’T GET THIS POST TWISTED. BUCK IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER AND OS IS A REAL PERSON. NO ONE KNOWS OS PERSONALLY EXCEPT FOR THE PEOPLE HE ALLOWS IN HIS LIFE.

Another Reminder: before you read this please REMEMBER this episode was told from BUCK’S POV!

After carefully analyzing the basketball scene, I remembered something about Buck’s past. Everyone who knows the character is fully aware that he doesn’t want to be left behind or abandoned again. That's why it's important to note that in season 7, Maddie’s getting married to Chimney, Bobby and Athena almost died on the cruise and Hen and Karen are adopting a baby. Everyone in their found family is moving on with their lives and IMO, when Buck realized Eddie had moved on too, he couldn’t handle it because Eddie’s supposed to ALWAYS be there. They have each other's backs and have had them since 2x1. But it seems like Buck forgot one thing, he pushed Eddie away in 6x15 with that BS line about Natalia seeing him and outside of work, they weren't spending time together anymore.

In 7x4, Eddie found a new friend (who wanted him but I’ll elaborate on that in another post) and he was having a great time going to fights in Las Vegas, spending time working on his cars and going to karaoke, basically he was doing the damn thing but Buck couldn’t handle it since Eddie and Chris are his FAMILY! They’re the two people in his found family that are his but he’s either too scared to say something or I don’t even know what but the point is, he expects them to be there whenever he’s lonely and wants to cook some lasagna or something. But this time they weren’t since Eddie moved on and Buck didn't know what to do about it (Hint: all he had to do was open his mouth and talk🙄).

After I remembered the aftermath of the shooting and Eddie’s breakdown, I realized, in Buck’s mind, he thinks the only time he gets to be with Eddie in the way he wants to be with him (AS HIS HUSBAND) is when Eddie’s hurt (related post linked here) which is FALSE AND UNFOUNDED but in Buck’s mind, he doesn’t know that. If this is his rationale, then he needs to go back to therapy because it’s not true. Eddie added Buck to his will and named him to be Chris’ legal guardian but it appears he still hasn’t fully dealt with his abandonment issues yet and until he does, it's likely he won't be able to move past them.

Before Eddie found a friend with similar interests (which I thought was great) Buck got to be Eddie’s everything and he was Chris' other dad. He's never been a guest in their home and he's slept on their couch numerous times (related post linked here).

That was then and this is now since things changed in season 7 because it appears Buck started to believe his position in Eddie’s and Chris’ lives was in danger and that’s why he reacted the way that he did in 7x4. He thinks the only time Eddie and Chris need him is when Eddie’s hurt and to prove my point, I’ve included two examples below.

In 4x14 (full video of the shooting linked here), after Eddie had been shot and he was in the hospital, Buck was at 4995 S. Bedford St. taking care of their son Chris while Eddie’s then girlfriend, Ana was sitting by Eddie’s hospital bed even though he was in a coma.

Buck had full control of the house and he was fully responsible (with Carla’s assistance whenever he had to go to work) of taking care of Chris, making sure he went to school all while they waited for Eddie to wake up. Make no mistake, Buck was sitting in Eddie’s chair at the dining room table. He’s Chris’ other dad and has been for years.

In 5x14 (video linked here), Buck was literally living with Eddie and Chris after Eddie’s breakdown. He was taking care of the house and their son whenever Eddie went to therapy. He made sure Chris did his homework and he was waiting for his HUSBAND (EDDIE) to come home so he could cheer him up👀.

Chris called him in a panic and Buck rushed over to help. Now, even though Buck had a girlfriend (whom he used to help him get information on how to help Eddie with Equine Therapy), he was literally staying with them to make sure Eddie and Chris both got what they needed.

Bonus points: Buck called Bobby (his found dad) to stay with Eddie so he wouldn’t wake up alone while he left to take Chris to school.

In 7x4, Buck tried everything he could to get EDDIE’S ATTENTION (it was Eddie’s attention he was seeking) but nothing worked since Eddie was so enamored with Tommy and all of Tommy’s toys (I’ll elaborate on this topic too in another post). Buck was pissed so he encouraged Chimney to go to the basketball game with him but trust and believe Buck wanted to be there so he could see EDDIE!

It appears Buck was irrational and irritated and the more he saw the new bond between Eddie and Tommy, the more furious he became.

This is where things get messy because in Buck’s mind (reminder this is from his POV) it’s possible he thought that if he physically injured Eddie, he’d get his place in Eddie’s life back and he’d be able to play the role of HUSBAND (to Eddie) and DAD (to Chris) like he did in the past.

Buck truly believed Tommy was a threat to his place in Eddie’s life and that’s the reason why he reacted the way he did during the basketball scene. The idea of him losing Eddie was real this time just like it was during the shooting and Eddie’s breakdown but there's ONE MAJOR DIFFERENCE.

EDDIE’S HAPPY!

He’s not hurting or pressing Buck to hang out with him and Chris because he went and found a life while Buck was entombed in his loft with the death doula. It’s something Buck couldn’t process or comprehend since he wants Eddie to be there waiting for him.

Buck can’t fathom a life without Eddie and Chris because they're his family and trust and believe he’s never felt threatened by Ana or Marisol because he KNOWS Eddie’s not into them. Reminder, he was the one who told Eddie to breakup with Ana instead of him trying to stick it out like he said he was going to do.

Buck is HYPER aware of Eddie in every scenario which is the reason why he noticed Eddie's discomfort in 5x2 while Ana and Chris were at the firehouse. Also, he ignored Ana when they were there. He wouldn't even look at her. Buck's not bothered by Marisol either because if he was, he would have told Eddie in 7x1 to have her talk to Chris about women instead of asking him to do it.

When Buck’s facial expressions are examined, it’s easy to see he looks mortified at what he'd done to Eddie and the hints of their shared trauma from his past was mixed in too.

This was especially true while Eddie was on the ground.

Bonus points: when was the last time Buck saw Eddie injured and lying on the ground?

Ding, ding, ding… THE SHOOTING! Buck risked life and limb to save Eddie after he was shot in the middle of the street. And I believe he would have reacted differently if Tommy hadn't stepped in and said something that caused Buck to deflate.

Things were different this time because Eddie wasn’t shot but he was injured but Buck caused it and he wasn't able to fix it or save Eddie and take him home or to the hospital. Buck tried but Tommy shot his own shot which caused Buck to foul out of the game and by proxy he thought out of Eddie's life.

In the above GIFs, it’s easy to see how he wanted to reach out to Eddie but his hands wouldn’t move the same way he couldn’t touch him in 4x14 while they were riding in the back of the 133’s fire engine.

Before I end this post, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention how Buck has hurt someone before; it wasn’t physical that time but it was emotional.

BE CLEAR, I’m not a fan of Taylor Kelly’s and I’m not comparing him asking her to move in with him after he did a dumb thing (his words to Maddie in 5x13) with the way he injured Eddie. But I am using this as an example to show his lack of comprehension regarding how his actions affect others and the way it continues to persist.

In 5x13, when he went back to the loft and she was sitting on her own couch, he said, “You think I trapped you” and she responded, “Am I wrong?”, his response was, “I’m not sure”. I think on some level he did know since he was afraid someone else was going to leave him. Eddie wasn't at the 118 and Maddie, Chimney and Jee-Yun had just returned to Los Angeles.

Two years later, in 7x4, Maddie asked him, “You didn’t mean to hurt him (EDDIE), did you?”; he responded, “I don’t know”. His response was very similar to the one he gave Taylor and on some level, I believe he does know since he was 'jealous' of EDDIE hanging out with someone other than him.

IMO, Buck wasn't able to get the emotional skills one usually obtains while they're growing up because of the raggedy Buckley parents since they emotionally abandoned him and Maddie. He’s deathly afraid of losing those he loves but he can also be selfish with his presence whenever he gets to make things all about him. Reminder, he admitted it to Eddie in 3x9 during his second apology about the lawsuit. He said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there Eddie. You and Chris needed me and I had my head so far up my own behind with that stupid lawsuit." He was able to fix it back then and there wasn't any other people like Tommy hanging around to get at Eddie.

Additionally, two more examples of the way he makes things about himself happened in season 5 when he was dating Taylor and they remained entombed inside of his loft. They never went anywhere except for the separate trips they took to Oklahoma when she went to visit her dad in prison. It happened again with Natalia at the end of season 6. Since he wasn’t visiting Eddie and Chris, it appears he was entombed in there again with her so there’s that.

Be CLEAR, Buck is 32 years old (not 30 like the show lied and said he was in 6x11 because he was 28 in season 3 (3x1 Maddie said it to Bobby and Athena) and he was 29 in season 4 (4x5 proves it when he said it himself to Maddie) and since MATH IS A UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE, it’s the same no matter where someone lives. The fact is 2 + 29 = 31, therefore he was 31 in season 6 and he should be 32 in season 7). Buck should be able to express himself with words instead of acting like someone in middle school. That’s possibly the reason why Maddie told him about the kerfuffle she had when she was 14 years old and told him not to act like someone that age.

The point of this post is Buck was/is afraid Eddie’s leaving him again but this time it’s different. Buck had all but abandoned Eddie and Chris while he was dwelling inside of his loft with the dEaTh DoUlA and when he finally emerged after breaking up with her, he thought Eddie and Chris would be there waiting for him but this time they weren’t. Eddie found a new friend and Buck felt left out so in his conscious and subconscious mind, he figured if he hurt Eddie, he would be the one there to take care of him like he’s done every time in the past.

But… Tommy stepped up and said, “I can take him because I brought him and there’s an urgent care near his house”. If you look at the expression on Buck’s face, you can see he felt like it was over. He’d finally done the one thing he thought he’d never do (even though he broke Eddie’s heart in 6x15 with his BS line about “She sees me”) but anyway, he didn’t have a leg to stand on anymore since Tommy was there for Eddie and he helped him by taking him to urgent care.

I HATE THIS SCENE AND I WISH THEY HAD FOUND A BETTER WAY TO HANDLE IT. I don’t like it when either of them gets hurt.

Finally, Buck needs therapy to deal with his inability to handle his emotions. I know a lot of people want him to just move on from his traumas but the fact is he hasn’t and that's why he needs to get help to be able to learn how to process his thoughts instead of him just providing lackluster responses like, “I don’t know” or “I’m not sure”.

His behavior was inexcusable so HOPEFULLY, he’ll have to APOLOGIZE in CANON to Eddie who’s never intentionally injured him.

Will he apologize to Eddie for acting like a middle schooler in 7x5? Only the showrunner, writers, producers, actors and actresses know the answer to that question.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #buckley diaz family #the buckley diaz family #911 abc #911 spoilers #911 on abc #911 meta #911 speculation #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #anti tommy kinard #anti bucktommy #anti eddiemarisol #anti marisol

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221bshrlocked · 2 years

Text

where it wasn’t

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Ben x Fem!Reader (post-Kenobi Series era)

Words: 18,763 (can you tell I’m unwell?)

Warnings: 18+ only. Angsty Smut. Mutual Pining/Porn with some plot. Touch-Starved Obi-Wan. Lots of Kissing. Some form of competency kink? Marking Kink (again idk). Dirty/Sweet Talk. Slight Choking. Overstimulation. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Slight Breeding Kink. Some tears here and there because Obi-Wan just needs a fucking hug.

Summary: “I- I am most flattered by your a-admiration but-” Ben grunts when you accidentally graze one of his nipples, his mind instantly going into hyperdrive and making him lose his train of thoughts. “But I highly doubt this is the most impressive form you’ve ever come across.” His voice is strained, that you’re certain of, and you want to see how far you can take it with him before he can no longer hold back. You’re close to thinking against it, but as you continue to knead his tight muscles, you notice a dark blush creeping down his neck to his chest and decide to tease him just a little bit more.

A/N: Yes, it is a massage au. Yes, the trope is basic as fuck. Yes, this fic is just an excuse to write porn. Yes, it is very much a self-indulgent story because I deal with trauma by reading or writing angsty smut. No, I am not okay after this week’s episode. This is completely inspired by the scene in episode 4 though...you know, the bacta tank one. Please don’t judge me. Enjoy and please be kind in the comments. I have never written for our beloved General before. Also, this is not beta’d...

He should not be here, it was neither safe nor necessary. But the bit of him that longed for another’s touch, a stranger’s kindness if you will, forced him to come out of his shell and go out of his way to come here again. He would regret it later of course, and the guilt would last for weeks before he no longer felt traces of her touch on his skin. Only then would he reevaluate his decisions and come to the conclusion that perhaps it was not as selfish or as dangerous as he deemed it to be.

An obnoxious string of laughter snaps him out of his haze, and he rubs his palms together to familiarize himself with the calmness he once walked hand-in-hand with. Pushing the hood higher upon his head, he crosses his arms together and approaches the dingy doors of the establishment he’s grown to seek out ever since he returned to Tatooine once more. A lump of anxiety forms in his dry throat all of a sudden and he barely manages to swallow it down as he enters the rather quiet building.

As soon as he steps past the threshold of the dimly lit entrance, he’s bombarded with a variety of scents, ones which he prayed to the Maker he would get to memorize again. He looks around as if this is his first time requesting the services the establishment offers, hoping that someone could put him out of his misery and recognize how difficult it was for him to come here. When he sees several others waiting to be led into one of the private rooms, he takes a deep breath and slowly moves towards one of the corners of the room.

However, before he has a chance to muster up the courage to ask when the next available appointment is, he hears his name uttered softly from behind him. He reluctantly turns around and feels his chest collapse at the sight of you. The weeks may have taken a toll on him, but the absence of your eyes pushed him to grow more fond of you than the last time he was here. He parts his lips to say something but the words die in his throat when he allows his focus to trail down your form. Somehow, you looked more mesmerizing in the old fabrics hugging your body than anyone ever had the right to. He cannot remember the last time he was so starstruck by the mere presence of another, but as he stands here, looking at you as if you were the rarest of flowers on this desert planet, he can’t help himself from smiling at you and bowing his head.

“I thought I would never see you again.” Your voice pulls him from the trance he’s under, and he walks towards you slowly, his hands remaining steadfast at his sides to remind himself that he cannot reach for you no matter how much he needs to.

“I- I hate to admit this, dear one, but I did not think you would ever see me again either.” Were it not for the hesitation veiling his words, you would have grown more offended at the rather sudden and somewhat rude exclamation. Neither of you say anything for a few moments though, and it’s only when you smile and look at your feet that he finally takes those last few steps towards you. Ringing your fingers nervously, you clear your throat and turn your attention to his light blue ones again, wishing you could find some bit of honesty that would let you know he missed you as much as you missed him.

“I see. Well, if you’re looking for someone else’s services, I will gladly recommend one or two that-” You try to change the subject but he cuts you off abruptly, and reaches out to rest his hand on your shoulder.

“No, please no.” When he sees the way you flinch at the touch of his hand, the subtle smirk gracing his handsome features drops and turns into an even more beautiful pout.

“My apologies, it was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” It’s his turn to play with his hands to distract himself, and it takes you longer than necessary to put yourself together and not think of how large and firm his hand felt atop your skin.

“You never make me uncomfortable, Ben. In fact, you’re the only client I have that makes me look forward to coming into work every day.” It’s a longshot, that you are certain of, but the slight widening of his eyes and the way his shoulders tense let you know that, although he didn’t expect you to be so forthright with him after such a long time of not seeing or speaking together, he wasn’t opposed to the true meaning behind your words.

“You- you flatter me with your kind words.” He can’t bear to hold your gaze, afraid that if he looks for too long, you’d come to realize why he was so desperate to see you again. Some part of him longed to tell you how much cared for you ever since that first time you invited him into the parlor to ease his aches, but he knew there would be no going back once you were aware of the hidden thoughts and rather inappropriate dreams which plagued him for weeks on end.

“Not at all. Flattering implies I don’t mean what I’m saying. I’m just being honest Ben, and- well, I hope you can see that because…” You trail off when you notice him actively avoiding your eyes, and as you’re about to apologize for being too forward, a rather impatient trandoshan struts by and bumps into you on his way out. You trip and fall right into Ben’s arms, but before you can turn around and give the customer a piece of your mind, you hear Ben grunt in pain as he readjusts his hold on your waist.

“Oh Ben, you didn’t tell me you’re hurt!” You let go of him and step away, quickly trailing your eyes down his form to try and figure out where exactly he was wounded. He always wore those ripped, dirty clothes that hid him from prying eyes, and you wished he could finally be comfortable enough with you to allow you to give him a massage without his clothes. You got the sense early on that he was a man who relied on staying hidden, both physically and emotionally, so the idea of him stripping for you set your mind into overdrive. But as you stare at the pained expression on his tired features, you shake your thoughts away and reach for his hand.

Ben finally dares to look at you, furrowed eyebrows slowly coming to rest easily when he sees the loving and patient look swimming in your eyes. A year ago, he would have snatched his hand away and stormed out of the city to the comfort of his cave. He would have refused to return to this side of the planet out of fear of seeing whomever dared to touch him so intimately. But as he stands there in the middle of your parlor, with the warmth of your skin engulfing him so sweetly and lovingly, he can’t bring himself to let go of you, not because you might be offended, but because he can’t stand not feeling you close to him any longer.

“Ben, come with me. Please.” You wait until his shoulders sag in relief and acceptance before you pull him behind you and into the hallway. If anyone attempts to ask why he got priority over the others, you simply stare at them and narrow your eyes sternly to prevent them from thinking of breathing his way. As you lead Ben through the narrow and rather hot establishment, you feel a sense of unnerving peace wash over you. Here was a man that you knew, for certain, did not enjoy the company of others and yet followed you blindly and without question towards an unknown. Granted he came here a few times before, but you always led him to one of the more public rooms, knowing that he probably felt more comfortable seeing others being taken care of like him.

You look back once and bite into your lower lip when you see the hazed look upon his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that his pupils were dilated simply from the mere touch of your fingers against his coarse skin.

“Where are you taking me?” His voice, laced with a hint of anxious desperation, makes you stop in your tracks, and you turn around to face him immediately, knowing that he may have still felt uncomfortable at the prospect of being alone with you.

“My room. It’s more private and…safe. I’m sorry, I- I should have asked you before I led you here. We can go back if you want.” You leave the sentiment open-ended, but you hope that he can see through the offer and notice how much you really didn’t want to be around anyone else but him.

“N-no. Perhaps it is better if you attend to me in more private quarters.” As soon as the words leave his lips, Ben catches onto the double-meaning in between the agreement, and he frantically shakes his head to make sure you didn’t think he expected anything more from you.

“Relax, it’s only me.” You rub his wrist and smile at him before you continue down the hallway, and Ben rolls his eyes at his idiocy as you look forward and lead him to your room. He doesn’t know what to expect from the night, but he hopes that you muster up the courage to cross the invisible line he’s planted in the sand ever since he came to you because he knew well enough that he wouldn’t be able to move past it himself.

When you finally reach your room, Ben squeezes your hand for a moment to remain grounded, his heart finally accepting to return to a normal heartbeat when you return the flex and keep your attention on him. He waits patiently as you push in the code to your doors, and when the heavy metal swishes open, he blinks slowly to remember his self-control before he steps into your room.

Whatever he thought he would find in your private chambers is somehow similar and different from reality. The room is not as spacious as the others you’ve taken him to but it certainly holds many more things, the most surprising of which was a large bacta tank right below one of the windows. It’s also more homey than the others, which is not surprising to him considering you did let him know that this was your personal room and not one occupied by the others during the hours of the parlor.

“Is it…pleasing to you?” Ben is surprised by the question, and he lets go of your hand to cross his arms and wander around the chambers. He notices a large bed at the opposite end of the room and regrets where his mind wanders to instantly. Ben is sure his beard is hiding a deep blush heating through his cheeks, and he clears his throat when he turns around and looks at you. He means to offer you a vague answer, but as soon as he takes in a deep breath and the natural scent of the room hits his senses, his heart skips a beat because-

Maker, if he thought your scent was maddening before, it was driving him crazy with lust and need for you now.

“You will find that I will never disagree with anything your hands caressed.”

It is far from the response he wanted to offer you, but the reaction he gets out of you from those simple words shoots straight to his cock and makes him clench his fists tightly to try and remain in control. He can see the visible shiver that courses through your body and the way your chest rises and falls rapidly at such a bold exclamation, and against his better judgment, Ben uncrosses his arms and approaches you with careful steps.

“You f-flatter me Ben.” He can tell you’re embarrassed by the attention he’s freely showering you with all of a sudden, and the shy reaction makes it more difficult for him to keep himself in check, not because of how submissive he’s sure you would be willing to be for him, but because he wants, more than anything, to see that same expression etched on your beautiful features as you came undone around his cock and marked him as yours.

“Never, little one. I only speak the truth.” Again, whereas he only wished to put you at ease, his body reacts of its own volition and Ben reaches to caress your cheek with his hand. If you’re surprised by the familiarity of the touch, you hide it quickly and choose to close your eyes to commit this moment to memory.

“B-Ben,” it’s your turn to reach for him, but as soon as you place your hand atop his right shoulder, Ben flinches away and grabs for his side. The reaction is enough to bring you back to reality, and you remember why you brought him to your room in the first place.

“Kriffing hell, are you trying to distract me on purpose?” You frown and move past him swiftly, not bothering to give him a chance to say anything as you prep the bacta tank.

“This will not be necessary, I assure you I am-” Ben follows closely behind you to get you to calm down and face him, but you brush him aside and shake your head as the tank fills with water. As you wait for it to be ready, you clear your throat and turn to him again, gaze more stern than Ben ever thought you capable of.

“I have never been overbearing with you Ben, and I think you can tell that it never bothered me to be quiet and patient with you. But I’m sorry I can’t be either of those things right now. You- you’re hurt and I am sure you neglected to take care of your wounds due to whatever sort of justification you thought up. So, please, if you ever valued our friendship, get in the tank. I can leave if you want some privacy, but just- maker, please let me take care of you.” You choose your words carefully and refuse to back down from Ben’s intense stare as he rubs his beard and visibly thinks over your proposition. He’s quiet for too long to your liking, but when he looks to the bacta tank behind you, he shakes his head and purses his lips tightly.

“I…cannot afford this, darling. Surely you know that.” Had you not known him, you would have been offended by his words. You almost snap at him but when you notice the ear-to-ear smile breaking across his face, you barely hold back from returning the expression and instead narrow your eyes at him.

“If you think me cruel enough to charge you for something so important, then I suggest you pack your things and leave…after you use the bacta tank of course.” You know he’s not buying your act one bit, and the idea that you’ve come to a point in your relationship with Ben where the two of you don’t mind teasing each other makes your stomach flutter with warmth.

“I brought nothing with me except the clothes on my back sweetheart.” His words light a flame across your chest then, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you keep his gaze and notice the curious eyebrow he was aiming at you. Surely he wasn’t flirting with you…was he?

“L-like I said, I can give you privacy if you-” You step back and aimlessly point to a door beside you to let him know that you don’t mind leaving him alone. But Ben shakes his head and moves into your space, ignoring the shocked look on your face when he pushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes to take a better look at you.

“You and I have known each other long enough, have we not? Unless it is you who wishes to leave, in which case, I will not force you to be here.” There is a hint of humor in his tone that makes you more flustered by the second and you don’t have the mind to form so much as a coherent thought to respond to him. Ben turns around and removes the longer robe covering his form, and it is only when he throws it gently on top of one of the chairs that he notices you not budging from your place.

“You are not leaving then?”

“It is my room…so no.” You hate how you trip over your words as you try to answer him, but from the looks of it, Ben doesn’t mind your embarrassed reaction one bit. In fact, he seems to have taken a liking to your more shy demeanor when he openly teases you.

“Very well. Would you be so kind as to help me out of these robes then? The wound is…it’s severe and limits my movement. I’d hate to irritate it any further.” He points to his right shoulder and side all the while studying your body language to ensure your comfort. The last thing he wants is to push you too far and cause you to run away from him. Ben expects to stand in silence for a while, but when you rub your hands together and approach him, he allows himself to relax further into the intimate and warm space.

“Sure, yes…I can do that. Just- just tell me if I make you uncomfortable. I’ll leave right away.” You reiterate once more as you lay your hands on top of his shoulders and rub the harsh fabric in between your fingers. Surely he didn’t remain in these robes all the time? His skin looked too soft to be covered with such coarse material, and before you dwell too long on how warm and inviting the skin of his clavicle felt beneath the tips of your fingers, Ben breaks the silence and rests his hands around your waist. He doesn’t try to pull you in closer, but he does squeeze you a little tightly as he returns your own words to you again.

“Nothing you will do will ever cause me discomfort, little one.”

“Oh.” It’s quite pathetic how easily Ben can cause your mental capabilities to decrease down to nothing, and you hope he doesn’t think less of you the longer the night stretches because you are sure you will melt into his arms if he so much as whispers a quick ‘thank you’ to you.

“May I?” Even though he has just given you permission to help him undress, you ask him anyway, knowing that it is better to receive affirmation from him than to accidentally make him wish he never came to you tonight.

“Please.” The way Ben pleads with you so willingly sends a ripple of lightning down your spine, and your breath hitches when you look up and see how focused he is on you. Knowing that things would only get more intense going forward, you sink your teeth into your lower lip and softly trail your hands down his chest to his stomach. You know you shouldn’t touch him more than necessary but seeing how open and almost inviting he seems to be with you now makes you tiptoe over that line of friendship a little. You say nothing as you rest your palms on top of his stomach, reminding yourself to breathe every couple of seconds when you notice Ben’s own body rising and falling beneath your touch.

If Ben is affected by your actions, he does a very good job at hiding it, making you wish he was comfortable enough with you to show you how much your intimate and rather lewd caresses are affecting him. For a moment, you swear his chest ceases moving when you finger the buckle of the belt holding his tunic tightly to his torso, but it resumes to the slightest of movement again when you unbuckle it and wrap your hands around his back to remove it carefully without hurting him.

As soon as you lean into his space, Ben forgets how to breathe, and he shuts his eyes tightly to refrain from closing his arms around you and smothering your lips with his own in a heated kiss. He can smell you much better now, and the flowery almost spicy scent of you is more potent than before. If he parts his lips now, he swears he can taste you on his tongue, but he chooses to keep them shut tightly to avoid any temptations.

You don’t notice the struggle Ben lives through for those brief moments, too busy wanting to make him as calm and comfortable as possible within your space. There’s a mutual understanding between the two of you as you reach for the bottom of his brown shirt and slowly tug it across his body. Only then does Ben break your gaze, and you hope it isn’t because he’s growing self-conscious in your presence. Your thoughts are answered in an instant when he chuckles embarrassingly and breaks the deep silence that befell you.

“I am afraid I may smell unpleasant to you. Forgive me, dear one. I cannot always afford bathwater where I live.”

The sad, broken tone of his voice wraps around your heart and clenches it painfully, making you wish you had the right to ask him to come and bathe here whenever he likes. But you know that he might misunderstand your kindness for something else, and you opt to shaking your head and continuing to raise the shirt until he could slip his left arm from its confines.

“It may be unpleasant to others, but your scent reminds me of…tenderness, compassion even.” You’re only speaking the truth to him but the honest sentiment must be too much for Ben because he lets out a shaky breath as soon as he wraps his mind around the words you just uttered. As much as you want to continue, you decide to keep quiet again, mostly because you are sure the sight of his skin will make you lose all coherent thought.

As you expected, your mind unravels haphazardly when you catch sight of the firm yet soft skin of his waist and stomach. Taking advantage of the few seconds of blindness as you remove his shirt from around his neck, you meditate on the trail of hair adorning his navel and hiding beneath his pants before you remember your mission and snap your attention back to his face. Ben looks to the side as soon as he is free of the shirt, and you mentally slap yourself for whatever shameless expression he may have written on your features as you tried to rid him of his clothes.

Right, his wounded right side. Focus on his wounded side and shoulder.

“Don’t try to raise your hand with me, I’ll do this slowly.” Ben doesn’t bother to offer you any response, and you get the sense that it might be because he is not used to showing so much skin to another being. As carefully as possible, you drag the tunic down his shoulder a few inches only to stop and gasp when you catch sight of the scarred flesh of his muscles.

“Oh sweetheart, what happened to you?” You don’t realize what you say until you meet Ben’s eyes and see the heartbroken look taking over his soul. The term of endearment must be a bit too much for him because in a matter of seconds, his blue orbs are a sea of unshed tears begging to be released from their confinement.

“It- it wasn’t…I didn’t-” The way he trips over his words lets you know that he couldn’t try to tell you how he came to own these horrid wounds even if he tried, so instead of pushing him any further, you blink away the tears forming in your own eyes and lean into his space. Without thinking much of what you’re doing, you hover over the top of his right side and lay the softest of kisses on his clavicle, barely managing to hold back from turning your head to the side and giving the same attention to his neck. You don’t give him a chance to say anything else as you continue to leave a trail of kisses down each inch of skin you reveal to the warm air. Once you’ve completely removed his shirt from his body, you take a step back and bring his right arm closer to your face. Making certain that he was focusing only on you, you lift his hand to your lips and kiss across his wrist to his forearm, hoping that the gentle touches weren’t making matters worse. When you’ve left your mark over the skin that wasn’t too sensitive or too inflamed, you lay his arm down to his side and muster up the courage to meet his eyes once more.

The look he gives you is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, and you can tell that he was trying his hardest to not break down completely in your presence.

Ben wants to say so much. He wants to thank you for your unusual kindness and caring touches. He wants to beg you to keep leaving your mark on him because the searing heat your lips left across his skin is better than the burning pins and needle sensations he’s felt for weeks now. He wants to repay your patience by kissing away all doubts from your mind, doubts he saw from the first time he came to you. He wants to shower you with pleasant words, whispers of his affections and dreams that he was now certain you would not be opposed to.

But all that manages to leave his mouth are two quiet, unsure words.

“Thank you.”

You smile at him then, and Ben thanks the maker that you don’t say anything else because he’s sure he would collapse then and there if he heard your voice purr more reassuring compliments to him.

The moment evaporates into thin air, however, when all of a sudden, you get down on your knees in front of him and look up into his tear-stained eyes just as you grab his shoes. A hint of panic washes over his entire body and you gulp nervously when he reaches down and grabs hold of both of your shoulders to prevent you from doing anything. You’re not sure what he thought you were about to do, but when you notice the soft muscles of his chest flex tightly, you realize his mind was racing towards a more inappropriate link of thinking.

“I’m just going to take your shoes off.” Even though your voice is barely louder than a whisper, you flinch at how harsh and gravely it comes out, not because of how unpleasant it might be but because Ben twitches when he hears it fill the silent air. When he doesn’t say anything back, you let go of his legs and keep your hands clasped in your lap. Ben’s attention shifts down to look at your hands, and you almost frown in question when you notice the tight clench of his jaws as he continues to look at your stance.

“Is this still okay?” You follow up shortly after, praying to the maker that he doesn’t collect his belongings and walk out the door.

“Y-yes.” He lets go of your shoulders and stands up to his height again soon after, and it takes every ounce of control in your body to not beg him to have his way with you. Ben may not appear menacing and dominant when he walks around with his hunched back and inviting body language, but as you look at him now, without the multitude of clothes often hiding him from your hungry gaze, you can’t help but find his presence commanding, more so than anyone else you’ve ever met.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod in return and lift his ankle off the ground, biting into the inside of your cheek when you feel the warm skin erupt in goosebumps underneath your touch.

Maker, he was more touch-starved than you thought.

As you remove his shoes and socks, your train of thought takes a turn for the worse when it comes to your attention that you might be the first person Ben has revealed himself to in a long time. A part of you hopes that you are the first to ever lay eyes on him, but you knew that, with the Coruscant accent he tried his best to hide whenever he spoke, this was highly unlikely. Ben was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing, and this was now. You smile to yourself when you think of all the hearts he broke in his younger days, and you quickly thank the maker for not being one of them because you very much liked him as he was in this moment.

Reserved but engaging.

Even though Ben isn’t in touch with the Force as he used to be, he can still see through the dazed veil that overtook you as soon as you began removing his shoes. He wants to break through that blanket of doubt and assure you that you are the first who’s seen him this vulnerable in decades, but he thinks against it, not knowing how you would react to such a sudden confession.

He composes himself as you stand again, but that composure falters when he feels your fingers rest at the top of his pants. He looks down and notices how still you’ve become, and he gulps rather loudly when he realizes what you were silently asking him. Shifting his attention back to you once more, Ben doesn’t bother hiding the rapid rise and fall of his chest as his heart rate elevates, and before you can ask him if what you’re doing is acceptable, he nods at you and braces himself for what’s to follow.

You’re not sure if it’s better for him if you avoided his gaze or kept contact with his anxiety-filled blue orbs, but you opt for the latter, knowing that he probably wouldn’t appreciate you devouring him as you pulled down his pants. Without missing a beat, you unclasp the button keeping the fabric tightly hugged around his hips, slowly lowering the zipper to give him time to remove your hands from him. When he doesn’t push your fingers away, you continue lowering the zipper until his pants are hanging loosely around his waist.

“Is this still okay Ben?”

You’re not sure what sort of response you expected to receive from him, but the low groan he graces you with is certainly the last thing you expected to hear. Ben must notice the shock of the noise he just made etched on your features because he nods frantically soon after and bites into his lower lip as you let his pants fall down his legs. As much as you want to take in every bit of his skin, you keep your gaze sternly above his neck, and say nothing more as you take his hands in yours and pull him towards you. Ben doesn’t dare look elsewhere, and as he steps out of his pants, he does everything in his power to distract himself from his body’s reaction to your touches.

He prays that you aren’t offended by the natural reflex currently plaguing his mind, and it’s only when he sees how respectful you’re trying to be that he forgets his worries and looks away to the bacta tank.

“Ben, I can see how nervous you are. Like I said, I can leave to give you more privacy. If you wish to take off your…umm, the rest of your clothes, I will move to the next room and wait for you until you’re done.” You squeeze his hands tightly to let him know that you meant every word you uttered, and you’re surprised when he clutches your palms in return.

“Don’t leave, please. I- I want you here, but I do not think I am ready to take this off just yet.”

“That’s okay. If you want, I have something else you can wear so you don’t get these wet? I’ll have them washed for you too so they could be ready by the time we’re done.” Again, you don’t realize the innuendo until you’ve spoken the last few words. If Ben notices, he says nothing and instead agrees to your offer. You let go of his hands and move towards one of your dressers, quickly grabbing a pair of loose shorts before returning to his side.

“I- I’ll just turn around until you’re done.” You hand him the softer fabric and smile when he nods again and shoots you a bashful smile. Before he can take his underclothes off, you lean down and snatch his pants and socks from the floor, not bothering to look at him again as you turn around and take his shirt and robe from the chair you laid them on. You throw them over your arm and wait patiently for Ben to tell you when you can turn around. There’s quiet shuffling behind you for a few moments, and you decide to study the corner of your wall to avoid thinking of Ben looks like completely nude.

Ben clears his throat as loudly as possible to let you know that he’s dressed again, and you hope that he can see how much you’re trying to accommodate him. When you turn around, you gasp at the site of him standing in front of the bacta tank. As hard as you try not to stare at him, you can’t help but let your eyes wander down his broad form to his thick thighs and firm legs.

“Maker Ben, you’re beautiful.”

It’s not what you planned on telling him, but it is what comes out, and you apologize quickly when you look up at him and see the blush creeping down his neck to his chest.

“T-thank you darling.”

Not knowing where to go from here, you pretend he didn’t just call you another personal term of endearment and reach to grab his undergarments from him. Ben hands it to you and waits patiently until you leave to the other room before he allows his shoulders to relax. He takes those few moments to collect his bearings, looking down at his almost nude form to see if there was anything wrong with him. It’s been so long since another saw him so exposed and vulnerable, and he hopes that you like what he has to offer even a little bit. He is not as lean and muscular as he once was, and those doubts from earlier in the day come creeping back into his mind when he sees all the imperfections littering his skin. Before he can dwell too much on them though, you’re back in the room with two flasks in your hands.

“Umm, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to receive your usual massage so I brought these out in case you decided on one after you’re done with the bacta tank.” When Ben says nothing in return, you place the two flasks down onto the table and approach him slowly.

“Ben, I want you to know that you’re in charge here. I won’t ever do anything you don’t want. But…I do need you to tell me if I am. I know this might be all new to you but I won’t know if I’m doing anything wrong unless you tell me.” You speak as gently as possible, wanting him to know that you’re not angry with him but that you really did need him to give you even the shortest of responses.

“Forgive me, you’re right. I- I merely cannot trust my own voice at the moment, hence my reluctance to respond to your kindness. If you are not otherwise occupied for the evening, I would very much like to receive one after.” His voice is hoarse and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a little turned on from this entire situation. You couldn’t blame him though. You’ve been turned on ever since you walked out and saw him waiting at the corner of the parlor.

“No need to apologize, a simple yes or no would be enough. Although, I won’t oppose hearing your voice more often.” You try to ease the anxiety floating around him, and you giggle when he raises a curious eyebrow and shoots you an actual, deep smile.

“Is that so? You enjoy listening to my voice, little one?” The teasing remark, along with the flirtatious petname, are almost enough to have you begging for him to fuck you against the wall, but you hold yourself back from saying what you really want to tell him.

“Y-yes, I do. It’s very gentle and soothing. You could read a manual on how to shut down a droid and I would consider it poetry.” You respond instead and move around him to get the bacta tank ready for him. Ben hums lowly and it’s only when you turn around and look at him that you see the same struggle you were experiencing taking hold of him as well.

“Good to know.”

Although it’s an open-ended comment, you know better than to keep the conversation going down that road. As much as you want to continue flirting with him, you don’t want to be distracted from taking care of wounds.

“Whenever you’re ready then,” you hold the mask up to him, but Ben shakes his head and walks around to get into the tank.

“That won’t be necessary. I do not intend on remaining in there long enough to fall asleep.” His tone is more assertive than before so you don’t try to argue with him, knowing that this was already difficult for him to do.

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” You say as you put the breathing mask away and stand aside to give him enough room to lower himself into the tank. He’s slow and careful in his movements, and you watch him closely to see if he needs your help with anything. He sits down into the tank and looks towards you again.

“You will not leave?”

The question surprises you, and you take a step towards him, reaching out for his left hand and taking it in between your own softly to reassure him.

“I won’t, I promise.” Ben sighs in relief at your response and he turns away as he slowly descends his body below the warm, healing waters. You quickly grab a towel and place it at the edge of the tank in time for him to lower his neck down and rest on it.

“You know, you might be the first person to ever use the bacta tank as a bathtub and I think it’s hilarious.” You break the silence after a while, and watch as he chuckles at your words.

“I am glad I can be amusing to you sweetheart.” You shut your eyes and meditate on his voice for a few moments, thankful that he was already finding this relaxing. You stand next to him in silence for a few minutes, and when his breathing looks constant, you think that he may have fallen asleep out of fatigue. As soon as you try to move away to bring another towel for after he finishes, his hand leaves the waters of the bacta tank and take hold of your wrist.

“You said you would not leave.” His eyes are much more intense than before, and you blink at him in confusion before you reach for his wrist and massage his skin.

“I’m not. I was just going to bring you a towel.” You don’t dare look away from him, knowing that he might misunderstand your behavior and think that he made you uncomfortable. Instead of letting go of your hand, he shuts his eyes and rests his head back against the edge of the tank before he lowers his arm into the water again. You don’t bother asking him why he was so afraid of remaining in the bacta tank by himself, and instead shift closer to him so your own hand can hold onto him better. Pushing your arm deeper into the water, you grab hold of his forearm and rest your head against the side of the glass, all the while studying his calm and relaxed features as the medicinal components of the liquid began to work through his wounds.

Time passes easily as Ben relaxes further in the water, and you trace small shapes across his forearm to help ease his anxiety. You notice the occasional eyebrow twitch whenever the water gets warmer and bubbles around his arm. You study him closely and try your best to think less of what his skin would feel like sliding against your own as he coaxes pleasure from your body, but then his upper thigh touches the back of your hand suddenly and your attention shifts from his features to the expanse of his legs.

You lick your lips when you see old scars littering his light, golden muscles and the thought that he could manhandle you any minute if he wished to causes you to clench your thighs tightly. Looking up at his face one last time, you make sure his eyes are still closed and serene before you allow yourself to memorize his broad form. Your breathing becomes erratic as you trail your gaze down his torso, fingers itching to reach over and rub across the blonde, reddish hair adorning his chest and stomach. There’s nothing you want more than to ask him what he used to do before he came to Tatooine, but you know that it would only make him feel worse for not opening up to you any further.

Stars, he must have been someone important if there are this many scars across his body.

As you descend your focus down his body, you fixate on his hips and the dip of skin below the edge of the shorts. It was such a shame he hid his body from the world. You knew many who would pay good money just to look at a specimen like Ben. He was hard and soft in all the right places, and from the looks of the slowly forming bulge straining against the fabric, you got the sense that he could have anyone he wanted. He would only say a word and they would come.

Literally.

“Do you always stare at your wounded clients as if they are exotic delicacies?” Ben’s deep voice makes you jump from your place, and you try to remove your hand from him but he holds onto your arm tightly and keeps you close to the bacta tank.

“I- I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have-” You try to think of a believable reason behind you openly and shamelessly gawking at his nudity but words fail you when you meet his eyes and notice just how dilated and almost hungry his pupils are.

“I was not complaining, my darling.” It’s soothing to hear that he doesn’t mind the way you’re staring at him, but you turn away with a smile on your face when he tilts his head to the side and mirrors your own actions. You can tell he’s also raking his eyes over your body from your periphery, and you hope he likes whatever he sees.

“If you must know…no, I don’t.” You pretend to pick at something on your dress when you finally manage to utter a grammatically correct sentence. The little hum Ben throws at you is somehow in response to your words as well as his own actions, and you wish he didn’t have such an intense effect on you.

“Hmm.”

“Only those I find interesting.” You look back at him, and feel your heart skip a beat when you see the way he’s staring at the skin peeking from underneath the thin fabric of the dress.

“You find me interesting?” His hand slithers further up your arm until he’s grasping your shoulder, and your breathing grows erratic when the dampness of his palm drips down your exposed shoulders and wets the top of the dress. His eyes are becoming more difficult to hold contact with but you remain steadfast, wanting him to know of the effect he’s having on you, wanting him to see how easily can have you, how quickly you’d submit to him if he so much as touches your cheek again.

“Y-yes, amongst other things.” Against your better judgment, you reach for his hair with your hand and comb it away from his face, wanting to take a better look at him in case he decided to take this a step further. What you don’t expect is for Ben to take hold of the edge of the tank and push himself up until he’s only a few inches away from you. You can feel the heat of the water radiating off of his body, and you wish he could just drag you to your bed and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“Enlighten me then.” Ben breathes against the corner of your mouth, and you part your lips in hopes of tasting his smile on your tongue. His scent overwhelms you in the best way possible, and you hate how it will soon become the same as the oils you’ve set aside for him.

A strange thought breaks through the spell you’ve fallen under, and you realize too late that your expression is reflecting the worry taking hold of your heart when Ben’s smile falters for a moment, and sits back in the water as he makes note of the reluctant look aimed at him.

“I…don’t want to lose you.” It’s perhaps the most vague sentiment you can ever tell anyone during such a moment, mostly because it wasn’t prefaced by a related question. You don’t know what else to say though and you know nothing else will come close to explaining the fear of never seeing Ben again. Thinking that he might get weirded out by the rather general statement, you turn away from him to prepare for whatever cold, uncommitted response you’ll receive from him.

But like before, Ben surprises you and takes hold of your chin in between his fingers. As much as you don’t want to look at him, you obey his soft yet assertive motion and slowly face him. His expression switches to a more welcoming and teasing smile when he finally looks into your eyes and you can’t control your own muscles as you focus on his inviting body language. Against your better judgment, you reach for him and place one hand on his chest while the other grabs his upper arm, wanting to keep yourself grounded so you don’t run away from him as soon as he speaks.

“You will not lose me, little one. I only ask that you speak in truths.” Ben grows bold with his touches, waiting until you slip your hand a little lower across his stomach before he traces your lower lip with his thumb. His gaze shifts to your parted lips and he licks his own when he notices your tongue peak out and almost wrap around his fingers.

“I- I could never lie to you Ben. Never.” You shut your eyes and whisper to him as he continues to draw patterns over your heated flesh. When you feel his hand descend lower and rest on top of your neck, you squeeze his arm and urge him to do as he wishes freely and without worry. He doesn’t flex one finger and you come close to pulling him into your space, but before you can do that, you feel the hold he has on your neck tighten a bit, forcing you to open your eyes and look straight into his.

“Promise?” Ben asks as he moves out of the water closer to you, not caring a single bit for how wet you’re becoming the more he touches you. His palm is now firmly encompassing your neck like a necklace, and you trail your hand from his biceps down his arm slowly until you have a firm grip on his wrist. A sigh of relief escapes both of your mouths in unison as you come to the same conclusion seconds apart.

Ben came to your parlor tonight with no hope of ever becoming brave enough to tell you how deeply he cares for you, and as soon as you saw him, you prayed to the maker that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d visit you.

As you now stare deeply into each others’ eyes, you come to understand that your desires have always mirrored each other, and that you are more than willing to give into the weeks and months of desperate need, even if you were uncertain of what would happen after tonight.

“Please.”

You plead against his cheek and hold your breath when you feel his other arm slowly wrap around your waist. He’s about to pull you towards him when the bacta tank shuts down and causes the waters to remain still. Ben clenches his jaw tightly as a new silence fills the room, and he reluctantly pulls away from you when he opens his eyes and sees a similar expression of irritation etched on your features. He can’t help but chuckle though as you roll your eyes at the timing of the sound.

“Hmm, I do believe you owe me a massage.” He lets go of you and maneuvers himself around until he’s kneeling in the large glass tub. Ben says nothing as he slowly stands in the bacta tank and stares down at you, and it’s only when he tilts his head to the side and raises an eyebrow that you realize he��s waiting for you to bring him a towel so he doesn’t make a mess of your floors.

“S-sorry, yes. I uhh- I did say that.” You shake your head and run towards one of your dressers, instantly reaching for the softer towels you reserved for yourself without a thought. You bring it back to him and try your best to avoid looking at the way the fabric of the long shorts hug his skin. You ignore the prominent bulge begging for your attention as you hand him the towel, not waiting for him to dry himself before you walk to the massage table near the window and prepare it for him.

Ben doesn’t pull his attention away from you for a second, and a new amusement takes over him when he sees how hard you’re trying to remain respectful when a moment ago, you were practically presenting yourself to him on a golden platter. He takes advantage of your sudden shyness and slips out of the shorts you handed him earlier. Hanging them on the edge of the bacta tank, Ben wraps the towel around his waist and fastens it at the corner before he slowly walks towards you.

He wants nothing more than to push himself flush against your back, but he reminds himself that this back and forth teasing would be well worth it once you finally told him what you truly wanted.

“It’s up to you whether you want to keep the shorts on or-” The words die in your throat when you turn around and see Ben standing a few feet away from you wrapped in a towel. Your eyes shift to the bacta tank behind, and when you realize that he’s wearing nothing underneath the soft fabric slowly clinging tighter to his body, you gulp nervously and move aside so he could climb onto the bed.

“The last thing I intend is to make a mess of your room. If you mind of course, I will gladly put them on again.” Ben teases as he approaches you, only to chuckle at you when you cut him off with a rather quick and enthusiastic response.

“NO! I mean…uhh, no that’s- that’s okay. Whatever makes you comfortable.” You mentally kick yourself when you hear him hum at you, rolling your eyes at the grin that appears on his handsome features as he begins climbing onto the massage bed.

“Like I said earlier, please tell me if I do something you don’t like.” You say as Ben maneuvers himself around until he’s laying on his stomach, wanting him to remember that he was still completely in charge. When he settles down and fixes the towel around his hips, you take a deep breath and will yourself to think of anything but how inviting his skin looks.

“Judging by the number of times you’ve spoken similar words to me, I suspect it is I who is making you uncomfortable.” Ben glances to the side and smirks at you when he sees you nervously clutching the different flasks of oil near your chest.

“Uncomfortable wouldn’t be the word I’d use.” You whisper to him as you set one flask down and tilt the other in your hand until enough is poured in your palm. You move around to begin at his upper back when Ben sits up and silently stares at you. You know what he’s asking and you hate how it only takes one simple look for you to be at his mercy.

“Nervous perhaps…or umm, overwhelmed. Whichever you find more pleasing.” You blink away and take another step towards him, hoping he’d get the idea and drop the subject before you knelt down and pleaded for him to claim you.

“It is not my intention to inspire such feelings within you, little one.” Ben says firmly, and you realize he probably assumed the negative connotations behind those words, not the ones you actually felt. He doesn’t bother to lay back down again and you dread having to clarify what you meant when you said he made you nervous.

“It’s you so I- I don’t mind it.” You smile shyly at him, and look down at your hands when you see the second he catches on to what you’re saying. Ben hums lowly as he settles down again and you sigh in relief at managing to convince him to move on without you embarrassing yourself any further. Before the warm oil trickles down your wrist any further, you softly begin to rub it across his upper back and bite into your lower lip when you feel Ben relax at your touch as soon as you dig your thumbs into the muscles across his shoulders. He tenses for a few seconds when you trail your palms all the way up to his neck, and you almost stop when you see the way he’s reacting to you. But when he groans deeply and stretches his neck down so you can have more access to his skin, you continue to stroke his shoulders until he visibly melts into the bed.

You want to ask him if he wants you to do anything different, but as you pour more oil on his back and rub it until his skin is glistening like the golden suns, you forget how to form a coherent sentence. The longer you knead those knots, the louder Ben’s moans grow, so much so that you vaguely hear him apologizing for the inappropriate sounds he was conveying to you.

It’s only when you focus on his biceps and triceps that he finally breaks the silence and snaps you out of your haze again.

“Tell me.” Ben demands all of a sudden and you halt in your movement when you sweep your eyes over to his face and see them wide open and staring right at you.

“W-what?”

“I think you know,” he grins at you, raising a curious eyebrow when you blink at him knowingly before you return to massaging his left arm, purposely avoiding the right one in case he still felt pain coursing through it.

“This is hardly the time to-” For the first time since you’ve met him, Ben cuts you off mid-sentence and raises his head far enough to take a proper look at you. You ignore the way he’s looking at you and focus on his forearm, praying to the maker that he doesn’t notice your skin crawling with goosebumps every time you feel the hair on his arms tickle your fingers.

“Do not attempt to distract me, darling. On the contrary, I believe this is the perfect time to tell me what you think of me.” He rests his cheek against the pillow once more, but you knew he wouldn’t drop this anytime soon. You move around to stand at the head of the bed, and as you reach for the other flask of oil, you feel Ben’s hands reach down and grip your upper thighs to pull you closer.

“B-Ben…”

“I only wished to bring you closer, nothing more.” He whispers to you as he returns his hands to his sides again, making you wish he wasn’t so respectful of whatever boundaries remained between the two of you. Shaking those filthy thoughts from your head, you don’t care how intimate you’re nearing him as you lean down and push your hands down the center of his back until you’ve reached the edge of the towel. Ben moans shamelessly when you slip your fingers beneath the towel and push your thumbs harshly into the round muscles of his butt. You continue to apply pressure up and down his back, occasionally loosening the towel to get better access to his backside. You almost giggle when you see Ben raising his hips off of the bed to allow you to pull on the towel, but you hold yourself back, afraid he might think you’re laughing at him.

Without giving him a warning, you take the oil and move to the opposite end of the bed, choosing to ignore the way he spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Mirroring your actions from before, you pour the oil on one leg and dig your knuckles into his calves until you hear him sigh in relief again. Ben says nothing else for a while and you suspect it is due to how close you’re beginning to get to the more sensitive areas. Even though you slip your hands underneath the towel again, you make sure to only reach the lower skin of his upper thighs and no further, not wanting him to think you want to force him through distraction. As you turn to the other leg, you can’t help but admire the numerous dips and scars across his entire body. Again, there was nothing necessarily attractive about a body mapped with different types of scars, especially when you could tell that some of them weren’t left behind by a simple blaster but by something that ran much hotter.

A strange thought enters your mind all of a sudden at a particularly nasty gash you saw on his side earlier, but you brush it aside when you realize how pathetic it must be. There’s no way this man ever came in contact with something like a lightsaber. He mostly kept to himself. Besides, if he did ever meet the end of such a weapon, there was no chance he could live and tell the tale.

“You’re drifting again.”

“Sorry, I was just…I was admiring your body.” You decide to stick as close to the truth as possible without making a fool out of yourself.

“There is nothing to admire about an old man’s beaten body.” You know he meant to pass his comment off as a joke, but the self-deprecating, almost sad tone of his voice makes you think he probably thought you were bluffing to avoid answering any of his questions.

“Turn around for me.” You tap his leg twice and pretend to distract yourself with something on your dress so you don’t accidentally get an eyeful of what’s below the towel should it slip by accident from him. It takes him a little longer than usual to settle down again, and when you turn around to look at him, you realize it’s because of the not-so-subtle reaction his body was having in response to your touch.

“I told you I’d never lie to you Ben, and I meant it.” Ben’s eyes flutter open at your words, and he watches you closely as you pour oil on his chest and slowly rub it across his scarred skin. His gaze is more intense than ever, and you don’t dare break contact with his eyes out of fear of making him think you are lying to him.

“I’ve seen many through the years, almost every type of shape and color and size…but none compare to yours. You’re…unique, in the most beautiful way possible.” You swear his chest rumbles with a growl at your confession, and you bite into your cheek when you see it rise and fall at a quicker pace. Looking down at his hands, you barely manage to hold back from digging your nails into his chest when you see the way he’s clenching his fists tightly at your comment.

“I- I am most flattered by your a-admiration but-” Ben grunts when you accidentally graze one of his nipples, his mind instantly going into hyperdrive and making him lose his train of thoughts. “But I highly doubt this is the most impressive form you’ve ever come across.” His voice is strained, that you’re certain of, and you want to see how far you can take it with him before he can no longer hold back. You’re close to thinking against it, but as you continue to knead his tight muscles, you notice a dark blush creeping down his neck to his chest and decide to tease him just a little bit more.

“Are you seriously going to mansplain to me who I find attractive?” You ask in what you hope is your most stern tone, and it must be more assertive than you think because Ben turns away from your hands and focuses on you again with a slight hint of panic coloring his cheeks.

“No, I- I would never presume to tell you h-” Ben falters when he notices a dangerous glint in your eyes, and he drops his head against the pillow once he understands you were only trying to get on his nerves.

“You minx,” he whispers beneath his breath and shuts his eyes again, allowing you a moment of respite to pay more attention to his tired muscles. A different silence falls over the room soon after, and you finally manage to take your mind away from the many things you wish to do to Ben. There’s an occasional sigh that falls from his lips every time you dig your knuckles into a particularly knotted muscle.

Making your way around the bed, you clear your throat softly as you work your way down his stomach, and Ben becomes more vocal as he feels your hands descend beneath the edge of the towel again. Unlike earlier, when you kept your touches right at the top of the soft fabric, you become more bold with him and bring your fingers right where his waist dips and creates that faint v-line. He hisses as soon as your nails pass across the coarse hair peppering his navel at the top of his crotch, and his eyes flutter open instantly, only to see you already staring at him with a fire he’s never seen on another’s features before.

“Sweet one,” Ben bites into his lower lip as you shiver at the endearment, and he reaches for your wrist slowly to hold onto it, afraid that he won’t be able to say what he really wants if you continued to map his skin as if you already claimed it.

“Ben,” you sigh his name as you slip from his grip and move on to his legs. He watches you closely and furrows his eyebrows when you pour more oil on your palms and begin to rub his legs. He sits up on his elbows and gulps nervously as you move beneath the towel and move the warm viscous liquid up his thighs. Almost on instinct, Ben spreads his thighs to give you more access, and he somehow finds the will to continue breathing even as you stare straight into his eyes the higher you go up his thighs.

“Believe me when I tell you, I’ve never met anyone I wanted to worship this much. You’re more beautiful than any star, and I want nothing more than to ease your pain, perhaps even your loneliness.” You coo at him, and watch as he struggles to find a proper response to your revelation. When he takes too long to say anything, you bring your body as close to his own as possible and drive your nails deeper into the skin of his thick thighs. Ben groans deeply and you can’t help but smile at him when you see the prominent tent forming underneath the towel flex slightly before it rests again.

“You- you find me attractive?” The disbelief in his voice almost causes you to double over in laughter because not an hour ago, he had his hand wrapped around your throat like he had every right to touch you so intimately and here he was still questioning, not only your behavior, but your words as well.

“Oh come on baby, I said that ages ago. Catch up and I promise to make you feel good.” Your fingers trail a little higher again, making Ben jolt all of a sudden and fist his hands against the bedsheets.

“Dear one…do not think you need to do this for my sake. I hold the utmost respect towards you and I cannot bear the thought of ever forcing you to-” The rest of the sentiment dies in his throat as soon as you lean over him and rest your cheek against his hip. Ben ceases to breathe when you flutter your eyelashes at him as you turn to the knot on the side of the towel and bite into it. You don’t move another muscle though, wanting to give him the chance to push you away or apologize for not wanting to do this. When he inches his hand slowly to your neck and nods at you, you give his waist a quick kiss before you take the fabric of the towel between your teeth and pull on it.

Ben grips your neck tightly as you raise your head and bring the towel away from his skin. He tries to sit up on his elbows again but he realizes too soon he doesn’t have the strength to do anything apart from stare at you as you worshiped him.

You, on the other hand, don’t look down at the newly exposed skin, wanting Ben to see that you are willing to take things slow for his sake. Your palms remain planted on his inner and outer thigh, and when the knot comes undone, you push the fabric across his hips until it falls on either side of him.

“Darling I-” He starts to say something but you cut him off instantly, wanting to tell him everything you’ve felt for him ever since he bid you a shy ‘hello’ that fateful time.

“Tell me what you want Ben, please. I’ll do anything to please you, anything. You- you’ve been on my mind for so long, and I just want to make you feel good. Do what you want with me…use me, my hands, my mouth…my-”

The only warning you have before Ben drags you on top of him is a deep growl conveying nothing but absolute desperation and anguish. You’re shocked by the sudden display of power Ben exhibits all of a sudden, not because you didn’t think he was capable of pulling you into his lap with ease, but because you didn’t think he’d ever grow so bold with you. Up until now, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, always asking you in his own way if you were still comfortable with whatever was going on between the two of you. But to see him lose his self-control to the point where he had to bring you on top of him without a care for his own fatigued muscles sets your chest on fire.

“S-stars…Ben-” You moan his name when he twists his fingers into your hair and tugs on it until your throat is on full display for him. No sooner than that do you feel his mouth kissing and nipping at the juncture of your neck, and don’t dare push him away for even a second. It’s Ben’s turn to grunt against you as you dig your fingers into his chest, and without putting much thought into it, he wraps his other arm around your back and forces your chest flush against his own. He can feel your pert nipples rub deliciously against his chest, and he reminds himself that he still has to ask for permission before he rips your flimsy dress to bits.

“Have you any idea of the effect you have on me?”

You sigh heavily as you gyrate your hips against his hard cock, giggling to yourself when the action distracts him from leaving his mark on every bit of your skin.

“I- I think I have a small idea actually…well, it’s not that small actually. More like a- oh fuck, oh my stars…it’s a hard, thick, delicious idea.” Your jumbled words earn you a chuckle from the man beneath you, and you open your eyes to look down at him when he lays back down against the pillow and brings you along with him.

“It is you who deserves to be worshiped, sweet one. Believe me, I want nothing more than to take my time with you, relish in the way I coax pleasure from every bit of this lovely body of yours, mark you with kisses that rival the stars in this galaxy…but I can bear it no longer.” His unabashed confessions send a strike of lightning down your spine, making you arch your back against him to feel his lips on your heated skin again. You sink your fingers into his hair the harder he pulls you against him, and only when his palm grabs at your ass and pushes it against his cock do you dare to pull on his sun-kissed strands. Ben thrusts his hips into your stomach, the sensation of his hard and heavy length reminding you of how full you will feel in a matter of minutes.

Pleading words slowly form on your lips in response to his rather needy requests, but you can’t find the will to part with them due to the sheer hold Ben has on you, physically and emotionally. His arms tighten around you when he notices you trying to remove yourself from him. You look down to try and put his mind at ease, tell him that you’d never think of letting him go now that he was touching you so sweetly. But as soon as you set your eyes on his own dilated ones, you forget how to breathe and pray that he puts you out of your misery. Thankfully, Ben doesn’t take too long to notice the hungry way in which you continue to eye his lips, and before either of you say anything else, he’s pulling you down by the neck and meeting you halfway with what you would later describe as the most breathtaking kiss you’d ever been gifted in your entire life.

You always thought Ben would kiss you softly, perhaps slip his tongue reluctantly into your mouth if you parted your lips for him. And perhaps he does savor such soft touches, you pray you can find out later if he prefers them. This moment, however, reminds you that this man was very much capable of bringing you to your knees with a simple look if he so wished. The thought of being at his mercy forces you closer to him, and you tilt your head to the side as he deepens the kiss, his tongue working magic against you and allowing you to look forward to where else it can leave its mark.

Judging from the hungry and aggressive control Ben displays, you don’t bother trying to take control of the moment. The hum of approval he graces you with when he feels you completely melt against him coaxes a moan from your throat, and you manage to break the kiss for one second to breathe before Ben shoves his mouth against yours again. You almost sob at how much he wants you, and you almost do as well. But when you feel his fingers slowly tug on the ends of your long clothes, you forget everything else and raise yourself above him a few inches to give him more access to your clothes. It’s his turn to break the kiss, and you nuzzle into his neck and whimper when he bunches your dress all the way across your hips.

“Love, will you let me have you? I promise to pleasure you later with nothing but my lips, kiss every inch of your skin until you beg me to stop. But right now, I- Force help me, I will surely die if I do not feel the heat of your cunt around my cock.” Ben pleads against your ear, kissing and nipping across the heated skin of your cheek as he keeps the dress around your waist with one hand while the other squeezes your ass. The soft material of your panties makes him slam his head against the pillow twice to control himself until you give him a proper answer.

“Maker…please just-” You cry his name once he slips his fingers beneath the flimsy article of clothing and pulls on it until it’s perfectly nestled across your aching clit. It strains against his ministrations, and you wish he can just rid you of it so you can feel his cock slide against your cunt. Not knowing what else to do, you turn to him a little and leave a trail of wet kisses from his beard down to the clenched muscles of his neck and shoulders. When you slowly begin to suck your mark on his jugular, Ben thrusts his cock hard against you again, almost causing you to slip from his lap at the sudden and aggressive reaction. He can feel your dress still keeping you from him and in an effort to maneuver you better so he can slip it off, his fingers slip below the front of your panties and pass deliciously against your wet cunt. Both of you cease all movement instantly, but the warmth of his hand feels too good against your pulsating clit so you throw all caution aside and push yourself harder against him. His fingers pass perfectly across your slit and forces an obscene moan deep from your throat.

“Let me have you. Let me make love to you sweetheart. Let me mark you as mine…claim you so the stars know whom you belong to.” Ben pleads one last time as he expertly rubs your clit and grips your hair tightly to have some semblance of control until you consent to his needs.

“Please Ben, I- I want you so fucking badly. Do whatever you want with me. I don’t care what you do, just don’t stop touching me. Make me yours…oh fuck, take me now, and don’t be gentle.” You were never one to beg for anything from a man, but as Ben tilts his head to the side and whispers the faintest promises to you, you throw all self-consciousness and respect aside for the sake of meeting the end of those confessions.

“Anything for you, love.” Ben promises against your lips, not wasting another precious second as he lets go of your ass and brings his hand to his mouth. You watch as he spits on his fingers and shoves those same digits into your mouth to collect your own essence before he reaches for his cock. You try to throw your head back to savor the moment but Ben keeps a firm grip on your hair, silently letting you know that he wanted to watch as he filled you with his dick for the first time. You furrow your eyebrows at the vague sensation of Ben’s hands rubbing his cock to with your combined spit, and when you can’t take it any longer, you cry his name again to urge him on.

“Fuck me…please Ben.”

The request washes over Ben like a prayer, and he leans up to capture your lips in another heated kiss just as he shoves your panties to the side and teases your clit with the head of his cock. You can feel how warm and hard he is against your slit, and you shove your hips forward to try and catch his length in between your wet lips. Ben is quicker though, and he holds you back with a simple pull to your strands, a small warning to ensure that you understand who was in control.

“Little one, I want to hear you beg for my cock. Beg me to fill your cunt.” The filthy command sends a shiver down your spine, and you begin to shake in his arms the more he teases your clit with his length.

“Ben, I can’t- maker, it hurts. It hurts not having you inside me. I can’t take it anymore, I want you to fill me with your cock. Fuck me the way you’ve always wanted, I- I promise to be good for you. Please…please give me y- ahhh…”

He almost panics at the first few words you sob as you stare deep into his eyes, and it’s only when you continue that Ben finally understands just how much you want him. He was planning on teasing you until the whole planet knew who was making you feel so needy, but the way you moan to him your craving for his cock sends him over the edge. Without warning, Ben pulls you until your chest is flush against his own, and before you can say anything else, he slowly inches his cock into your pussy, halting every few seconds to give you a chance to get used to the intrusion.

“Fuck me Ben, I n-need you to…fu-uck me.” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper, and it takes every ounce of focus and control in Ben’s system to not thrust into your heat quickly and fill you over and over again.

“I don’t wish to hurt you.” He lets go of your hair and wraps both of his arms around your back in an attempt to comfort you. But you can’t find it in yourself to care for whether he will leave you bruised and hurt. All you seem to want is to feel him everywhere, and you do so by wrapping your arms around his neck and shoving your face into the crook of his neck again.

“I want it to hurt…I want to feel you for days. I- I need it Ben.” You hope that he understands how truthful you are, but Ben remains still for a few seconds more, making you shake with desperate need for more. More of his kisses, his gaze, his touch, his thick cock carving your cunt to fit you perfectly.

“Please.” You plead one last time, and it must be all he needs to hear because in an instant, Ben is spreading his legs wider until his feet are planted firmly against the bed.

“I feel you will be the death of me, my darling.” You part your lips to respond to him but the world seems to fade away all of a sudden as Ben snaps his hips up against you and fills you completely. The force of his action sends you over the edge easily, coaxing the quickest of pleasures from your body in such a way that makes it difficult to hold onto that last sliver of control you had left over your mind and soul. You sigh heavily against his skin, not sure of relief or pain, but the moment is cut short when Ben is forcibly shoved out of your cunt with a strange sensation. Neither of you know what just happened, but you soon realize the response of your body to Ben’s desperate ministrations when he takes hold of his cock again to push into your cunt and feels just how wet his navel and your thighs now were.

“Did- did you just…” The shock on Ben’s features embarrasses you to no end, and you try to find an excuse to convey to him so he doesn’t think you’re as pathetic as a loth cat in heat, but all words fail you when you meet his eyes and see how far dilated they are. He must see worry etched on your features because he doesn’t give you a chance to think more of what just transpired and pushes his cock past your wet slit again. Whatever you’re about to say evaporates into thin air as you clench your core to get used to his size again, and before you know it, he’s fully sheathed in your tight walls, hard and hot as you always thought he would be.

“Maker…your cunt knows to whom it belongs already, doesn’t it sweetheart? It knows me…and I barely touched you.” Ben asks without looking away from you, arms slowly roaming the expanse of your body until you completely melt against him. He slips a hand around your upper back until he’s tugging the hair on the nape of your neck, his other arm circling your waist perfectly and holding you flush against him. When he ensures the tight grasp he has around you, he repositions himself again until his feet are flat against the sheets. Before you can respond to his question, which you noticed was laced with nothing but pride at having mastered your body in the span of only a few minutes, he snaps his hips against you once to give you a taste of what’s to come.

“Yes, I- I’m yours Ben. All yours…e-ever since I met you, I-” You’re searching for the proper words to whisper to him, but you come to the realization that he never intended for you to actually respond to him. With every syllable you manage to breathe against his neck, Ben thrusts his cock deep into your cunt, filling you deliciously time and again until you memorize the feeling of him as he brought you pleasure.

“Hmm?” A cocky smirk breaks out on his handsome features, and you wish with all your heart you can smack it away. Instead, you relish in the fact that Ben—sweet, quiet, and shy Ben—didn’t mind showing you this side of him. You never thought you’d ever come to the point in your relationship where you could hear such filthy declarations from him, let alone see him teasing you so openly. You snap out of the momentary spell he’s put you under when he slows down and brings you impossibly close to him until you can feel nothing but his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your thighs begin to shake when he doesn’t move, and as you attempt to sit up so you can take over, Ben shakes his head and tightens his hold around you.

“Please just-” You plead with him, praying to the maker that he can put you out of your misery and fuck you into the next moon already. He drags his fingers down your back and pushes your ass down against him, forcing you to roll your hips around his cock until your legs continue to violently shake. You can feel every ridge and protruding vein swipe deliciously across your walls, and you fight to take a deep breath so you don’t lose your mind over the feeling of him marking every inch of your heat with the wet, hard skin of his tip.

“I won’t ask again, sweet one. Tell me.” His voice is hoarse, unlike all the other times throughout the night when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. You can’t help the shiver that runs across your skin at the sound of his tone, mostly because you never thought that your Ben would be this vocal and dirty during such an intimate moment. You thought he would be too shy to tell you what he desires, but the harder he pushes you down on him while thrusting his hips up into you, the more you understand that this was always the Ben you spoke with, he just needed a little bit of patience and love to return to whom he once was.

“Ever since I met you, I knew that…oh fuck, I knew that I could never be with anyone else. You- stars, please move Ben. I’m so full of you but- fuck…need to feel you everywhere. ‘Ve dreamt of giving you everything…and now I- I just…I can’t take it anymore.” When he doesn’t give any inclination of letting you go, you give into his embrace and wrap your arms around his shoulders, slowly leaving a trail of wet kisses across his neck and clavicle to urge him on. He squeezes your ass as he rolls your hips around, tilting his head to the opposite side to give you more access to the expanse of his skin. You sink your teeth into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him shove his cock harshly into your cunt unintentionally and sending you closer into his arms.

It’s in this moment that Ben wants nothing more than to reach out to your Force signature and feel you envelop him fully. But he’s reluctant to do so, not only because it’s been a decade since he’s done something so intimate, but also because he didn’t think he could share this part of himself with you just yet. You’ve been nothing but understanding ever since you welcomed him into your room, before then even, but he doesn’t want to test his luck. Something about the way you wrap yourself around him though sets his mind at ease. He may not be able to tell you now, but he got the sense that he would eventually reach a level of comfort with you where he wouldn’t worry about your reaction to such a secret.

For now, the knowledge that he only needed to kiss you to feel you melt into his arms would have to be enough. He’s been alone for so long, spent decades without feeling the touch of another. The last thing he wished to do was to complain about the limited way he can be with you. This was more than enough.

Ben throws his head back in ecstasy when you kiss the corner of his mouth and tug on his hair, silently asking him if everything was okay. One look at the pleasure engraved on your features and his mind is at ease once more. He can still feel you shaking with want above him, and it drives him mad with lust. To think that someone like you, someone who’s met others more fascinating than him, easily submitted to him pushes him over the edge and roams his hands across your back in an effort to feel you surrender to him.

“Oh sweet one, you truly have gone cockdumb for me. So good for me, so fucking exquisite.” He growls his need against your cheek, watching with fascination as you rubbed your skin against his beard the harder he shoved his cock into your wet cunt. He wants to go slow, relish in the tightness and welcoming heat of your pussy as it swallows him enthusiastically. But your desperation makes him forget his mission. Ben chuckles as you whine and whimper the rougher the hair of his beard mark your skin and neck, and he’s about to pull away to give you some respite when you reach out further to him and continue stroking him like your life depends on it.

“Yes, oh maker yes, I- I’ll be good. I promise…I’ll do anything you ask Ben.” Ben swears beneath his breath at the shameless tone of your voice as you let him do whatever he pleases with your body. Taking advantage of your momentary distraction, Ben unravels his arms from around your back and takes hold of the thin straps of your dress. You only have a second to realize you can’t feel his protective embrace around your tired form, and before you ask him why he let go of you, a loud ripping sound fills the room. Looking down, you notice that he’s pulled the top of your dress to shreds and shoved it down your chest until you were revealed to his hungry eyes.

In your line of work, you’ve grown used to the way your clients tended to eye your body as you walked by. You even thought you’d never get to feel the rush of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought of being the object of desire for someone. But as you study Ben’s reaction to finally seeing your nude form, you suddenly feel too exposed to your liking and slowly let go of his shoulders to cover yourself. Ben is quicker though, and he drags your wrists away from your body before pushing them behind your back and holding them tightly in one of his palms.

“You beautiful star…and here I thought I- kriffing hells, I would need to kneel before you to get the faintest glimpse of…maker help me, of your desires.” Ben groans deeply as he leans forward and takes your nipple in his mouth. You can easily break free from the hold he has on your wrists, but choose against it, wanting to relish in how dominant and wanton this man has become for you. His tongue works magic on your pert nipples, and you work your hips harder onto his cock when his teeth tug softly on your hardened peak. It’s his turn to whimper beneath you, and you smile to yourself as he lets go and pays equal attention to your other breast. You look down again and watch as Ben hungrily marks your chest with his teeth, and you push yourself into his mouth to make sure he claims as much of you as possible.

“But I should have expected this, should have known you would bend to my will in an instant.” Ben whispers as he lays back down against the bed and brings you along with him. He must see the effect his voice and his words are having on you because soon after, he starts fucking up into you with abnadon, returning his other hand to your back and using your arms to control your movements more easily. He wants to come so kriffing badly but he holds back to feel you let go for him again. You can’t hold yourself up anymore and completely lose yourself to the plethora of sensations that were possible only through Ben. Nuzzling into his neck, you cry his name over and over again as you reach that familiar high once more, praying to the stars that he continues fucking you through your orgasm so you can think of nothing else but him.

“That’s it love, come for me again. Come on my cock, mark me with your sweet essence.” Ben kisses your forehead as he urges you to come for him, and even though he’s coaxed pleasure from you so easily before, he’s still surprised to feel your walls clench tightly around him soon after as your release washes over him. He fucks you through it, relishing in how violently your whole body shakes against him the more he prolongs your orgasm. When you beg and whine his name so he could at least slow down, Ben fights with himself against turning you around and fucking into you wihtout a care for anything else. He slows down to a stop but doesn’t pull out just yet, wanting to commit this moment to memory so he can return to it later as he touches himself to the thought of you giving every bit of yourself to him so freely.

His cock twitches the more your muscles spasm around him, and he hisses when you try to move off of him and sink deeper on his dick.

“B-Ben?” Your voice comes out barely louder than a whisper, and Ben worries for a moment that he may have gone a bit too far with you.

“Ahh, little one- you’re so exquisitely tight around me.” It’s not what he wants to say, but it is what escapes his lips when you fall back against his chest and your pert nipples rub against the damp hair peppering his chest.

“Keep going, don’t- don’t stop. Please.” You look into his eyes as you ask him to keep going, and Ben almost gives into your request when he locks his gaze with you and sees how genuine your pleading words are.

“But you m-must be sensitive. I don’t wish to-” The last thing he wishes to do is to stop, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything else. When you lean down and take his lips in a heated kiss, Ben’s worries flutter away along and become replaced with a need unlike anything he’s ever felt before. You sneak your tongue into his mouth and fight to mark him as he’s done with you. Unlike before, when Ben would have pulled your hair to remind you who’s in charge, he allows you to do what you wish, knowing that he would control your body again in a few moments.

“I don’t care, ahhh I don’t. I just want to feel you, want your cock to fill me up till I- oh fuck, till I can’t feel anything but how perfect and hard and hot you feel in my pussy. Mark me, I want it Ben.” You break the kiss and gasp against his skin when you notice how pliant he’s become beneath you. Nipping at his neck, you relish the clear reddened marks slowly appearing everywhere you’ve attended to, the sudden need to see his skin glistening with your spit and teeth marks making you return to biting and licking him again.

“Have I not claimed every inch of your skin enough? Have I not already trained your body to recognize my touch…my lips…my cock?” Ben barely manages to respond, the sensation of your mouth claiming him making him impossibly hard inside your pussy. He moans in between every word he breathes out to you, fingers digging into your waist and back when you grow more bold and aggressive with your marking.

“No- it’s…that’s not- I need you to mark me. Mark me with your seed. Come inside me and claim me.”

Time seems to stop as soon as Ben registers what you’ve just asked of him. He doesn’t dare move a muscle as he watches you lean up and make contact with his shocked eyes.

“Little one, are you sure?” The question is whispered and you can’t help but think that it’s because Ben was trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t breed you then and there. You let go of his neck to grab his hand, thanking the maker that he wasn’t fighting for dominance during such a moment. You take his fingers and trail them down your arm, and when they settle above the skin of your forearm, you push those digits and move them around until Ben feels the small chip hiding beneath heated and flushed skin. You swear you notice the faintest hint of disappointment on his features, and the thought that he truly wanted to fill you with his seed and breed you almost makes you come again.

“Gods yes…fuck your cum inside my cunt Ben, and fill me up.” You let go of his hand and tell him as you capture his lips in another searing kiss.

“Force help me, the mouth on you…it's dangerous. What a filthy fucking girl you’ve been sweetheart. And you are all mine.” Ben doesn’t give you any warning as he suddenly sits up and wraps your legs around his waist. You throw your head back and dig your nails into the hair at the nap of his neck as he roams his calloused palms up and down your back until they land on your thighs. It’s his turn to leave bruising marks on your shoulders, and when he’s satisfied with how far gone into pleasure he’s sent you, he hops off of the massage bed and makes his way towards your own bed.

“Yes.” You shut your eyes and surrender to him, excitement rushing through your veins when you feel him harden and grow heated inside your cunt with every step he takes.

“Mine to do with as I wish.” Ben commands as he holds you tightly against his chest, the need to feel every inch of you slide deliciously across him outweighing everything else.

“Please.” You plead again, wanting him to move quicker to your bed so he could fuck you like you’ve dreamt of for weeks on end.

“Mine to touch, mine to kiss, and mine to fuck when I please.” He smiles when he sees your skin erupt with goosebumps at his promising words, and he slides his hands down your back as he kneels on your bed until he softly lays you on your back. You let go of him, and stretch your arms across your sheets, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes as he trails his hands over your glistening skin. He thrusts softly into your pussy and throws his head back when your walls flutter around his cock and pull him in deeper.

“Stars, you feel heavenly wrapped around my cock, so wet and ready to be fucked properly.” Ben sighs into the quiet room, returning his gaze to you once more when you dig your nails into the skin of his thick thighs to get his attention.

“Use me, fuck me like you’ve wanted.”

“Oh, I intend to little one.” He raises a curious eyebrow at your choice in words, knowing fully well that you were trying to get a rise out of him to get what you wanted, what both of you craved for so long. Leaning down against you until his arms rested on either side of your head, Ben mouths the softest of kisses on your forehead and down your cheeks until you’re smiling hazily at him.

“I assure you, I will not leave your bed until your cunt is drowning in my seed. Is that what you desire of me, love? You wish to be full of my cum?” Ben asks as he begins to plunge his cock harder into you, his dick growing impossibly harder when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him flush against you.

“Y-yes, gods yes Ben.” You claim against his throat, crying in pain and pleasure as that familiar heat grows in your lower stomach.

“Look at you, you're positively sinful.” His voice is strained as he picks up the pace, and he’s torn between shutting his eyes to focus on how warm you feel around him and opening them to memorize your beautiful expression as you come undone again. Looking down for a brief moment, Ben decides that he very much desires to look upon you as you let him use you, a part of him somehow still wanting to ensure that you were, in fact, writhing beneath him, and that this wasn’t another dream plaguing his lonely nights.

“Oh Ben, you're- you're so deep inside me. Your cock is stretching me so…gods, it's addicting. Can’t get enough of you…won’t ever- mhmm get enough of you.” You’re not sure if you’re making any sense to him, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his cock hits all the right spots that force you among the stars.

“Good girl, good fucking girl…you're doing so well for me.” Again, the sound of his voice as he fights to speak turns you on way more than it should, and you mouth at whatever skin you can reach to show him how much you want him, how much you crave tasting him on your tongue every minute of every day.

“I'm so close already…please I- ahhh Ben, I want you to come with me. Need it, ohhhh so much.” You open your eyes for a second, and the sight that greets you will forever be etched in your mind’s eye.

Ben was furrowing his eyebrows, focused solely on you and nothing else as he drove his cock into your cunt so deep and fast that you could feel the tip of him hit your cervix precisely and consistently. The sound of skin slapping on skin and heavy grunts fills the room, pushing you impossibly closer to the edge faster than you thought possible. Ben bites into his lower lip when he notices the way you’re looking at him, and he swears for a moment that you were about to confess something to him he knew might pull him apart. You part your lips to breathe those three shameless words to him but hold back at the last minute, afraid it might ruin the moment and unintentionally push him away.

“I can't…can't hold back much longer, little one. Your cunt is begging for my seed, pulling me in deeper each time I sink into you. I can feel- oh sweet one, I can feel your walls fluttering around me. You are close, aren’t you?” He snaps his hips roughly against you over and over again until your body begins to shake underneath him. Ben growls into the night air when you suddenly cross your legs behind his back and push him into you until all he can feel is the sheer need you’re displaying for him.

“Ben, oh maker-”

“That's it, dear heart. Come for me, know this sensation…memorize how full you are now so you can't come without feeling my cock inside you.” Ben loses the last sliver of control he has on his mind when he looks down and sees you crying with shameless desperation for him. He wants to slow down for both of your sakes, but you fit too perfectly around him that he can’t decide whether he wants to burrow his way into your cunt or your soul.

“I- I’m…Ben-” You want to say so much. You want to tell him how long you’ve waited for this, how lonely you felt each time he walked out of your parlor with the unspoken promise of never seeing you again. You want to breathe to him how difficult it is for you to go a single day without the thought of his smile and his eyes, how you dream every night of submitting every beat of your heart to him. Instead, you pray his name like a benediction across his lips until you can’t voice your pleasure anymore, and with a particular thrust that forces the coarse hairs on his lower navel to slide perfectly across your clit, you fall apart on his cock and clench so harshly around him that he instantly falls over the edge with you.

“Oh darling, you are driving me mad with need. I- I burn for you, and now…fuck, now you will be mine.” It’s the last promise he commands on your flushed skin, and with a few more thrusts, Ben comes undone and sinks his cock as deep into your pussy as he can without hurting you. He feels you squeeze him tightly and a strike of lightning shoots down his spine when he feels you sink your teeth into his shoulder to hold back from screaming his name. He mirrors your action bites your neck as well, his balls twitching violently until he’s released his seed inside you and painted your tight walls with his cum.

The two of you remain wrapped in each other’s arms for a while after, neither of you wishing to part so much as an inch out of fear of this all becoming an extremely vivid dream. Ben pants with difficulty above you, and he remembers to hold himself above you just as his arms begin to give out. You notice what he’s doing before he gets off of you, and you twist your legs across his lower back to ensure that he remains where he is. The action accidentally pushes his cock further in your cunt, making the two of you hiss out of pain and pleasure at the oversensitivity coursing through your muscles.

When you’ve had enough time to return to yourself once more, you slowly massage his back and let go of his waist, knowing that he might not necessarily wish to cuddle with you after what you’ve done. Ben begins to pull away and you will your heart to remain silent so you don’t break apart in front of him. But instead of leaving, Ben smiles softly at you and leans down to capture your lips in a loving embrace. You part your mouth for him instantly, sighing in relief when he takes a page out of your book and roams his palms up and down your thighs to soothe you.

“Are you hurt? Was I- did I hurt you, my darling?” He asks worryingly, eyes quickly moving down your form and making note of all the bruises he’s left over your skin.

“No Ben, you- maker, you were perfect.” You shake your head and smile at him, chest clenching tightly at the thought of this man thinking that he can ever do something to make you uncomfortable.

“You are sure I didn’t-” He tries to ask again, but you don’t give him a chance and pull him down for another kiss. His body melts against you right away, and you smile when you feel his beard tickle your chin as he deepens the kiss. You’re not sure how long the two of you remain intertwined in each other, but when the need for air grows, you lay your head back against the sheets and look up at him with a teasing eyebrow.

“Yes…besides, I like it a little rough.”

“You are an incorrigible little vixen.” Ben shakes his head and chuckles when you shrug your shoulders and make a show of checking him out. He blushes a deep shade of red as soon as he feels your hand roam up and down his chest with a hungry look.

“I meant it when I said you can do whatever you want with me.” You break the silence, and pretend to ignore the small twitch of his cock at your declaration. Taking his hand into yours, you bring it up and kiss his palm to distract yourself from pushing him down on his back and riding him until he begs you to show him mercy.

“What?” You giggle when you look up and see the way Ben studies you, unable to decipher whether his expression was one of newfound interest in wanting to fuck you agian or judgement how much you crave him.

“Have you any idea of the effect those words have on me?” He asks as he twists your hand in his own and lays the softest and most loving of kisses over your knuckles.

“Maybe,” you respond cheekily with a roll of your hips, making Ben grunt and rest his forehead against your own. He meets your movement with a slow thrust and shivers once he recognizes the mess he’s made of the two of you. Mostly you…

“Hmm, I will never get enough of this…enough of you. I thought this burning would calm once I have you but,” he stops mid-sentence to nudge your nose with his own, only continuing when he looks down and sees sheer bliss written across the smile reaching your eyes.

“But now I know.” Ben doesn’t finish the rest of his thought, a part of him wanting to still tease you and see if you were actively listening to him or just humoring his words while you surrendered to his hands.

“W-what?” You don’t realize how difficult you find it to breathe until Ben’s low, gravelly voice washes over your clavicle and down your sternum with each wet kiss he leaves.

“Now I know I must have you whenever I can,” Ben declares as he sucks on one nipple, not giving you a chance to escape him and pinching the other in between his thumb and index finger. You arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his aggressive touches to relish the sensations rising across your body once more.

“And what will happen if- ahhh stars, if you don’t?” You whimper beneath him as soon as his teeth close over your hardened peak a little harsher than you expected.

“My heart may burst.” He declares those simple words with such assurance that your heart skips a beat at how terrifyingly honest he’s being with you.

“You r-really want me this much Ben?” You can’t help but ask, a part of you still afraid that he only laid with you out of loneliness and not because he only desired to be comforted and touched by you.

“I believed my desires were etched upon my face as clear as the twin suns. Clearly I was mistaken. Sweetling, not a moment goes by without the mere thought of your smile plagues my mind.” He stops his quest to kiss every inch of you in order to look into your eyes to show you that he means every word he’s said thus far. Ben notices the tears slowly forming in your eyes at his confession, and he smiles lovingly at you before leaning down and kissing the tears away.

“In that case, you can have me anytime you want. I’ll never say no to you Ben, never.” You try to set his mind at ease so he doesn’t think you’re growing too emotional to his liking, but Ben kisses you instead to set your mind at ease.

“Dearest, you know not how those words fill me with joy.”

“I’m glad I can make you happy so easily.” You turn away from him and get distracted by all the reddened marks you left across his neck and shoulders.

“To look in your eyes is to behold a whole galaxy. It is as simple as that.” Ben purrs softly against your lips, and you shudder at the ease with which he can reveal to you such intimate and vulnerable desires to you.

“Maker, you really do have a way with words, don’t you?” You giggle when he kisses the corner of your lips before nudging your nose again with a breathtaking smile that reaches his ears.

“Only for you, sweet one. Only for you.”

Ben sighs heavily as he feels you melt completely beneath him after a while, and as you slowly give yourself to sleep, he reluctantly pulls away to look upon your peaceful features again. So much has happened during the past few months, the past few years if he was being truly honest, but the longer he gazes at you, the calmer his heart feels because never in his entire life did he think he could be capable of feeling such emotions again.

Never in his entire life did he think he could find his heart again…

And in such a place where it wasn’t meant to be.

Tagging those who showed interest: @metalarmsandmanbuns @purple-mango @a-bang-for-your-bucky @zombiesnips-blog

#obi wan kenobi #obi wan x reader #obi wan/reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan smut #kenobi #obi wan x you #kenobi x reader #star wars fanfiction #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan/reader #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan kenobi/reader #star wars #ewan mcgregor #obi wan

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niawritesbs · 1 year

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A Daddy

John "Soap" MacTavish x Poc Fem! Reader During a meeting, Ghost realizes Soap is missing. He goes looking for him and see's him having a facetime call on a computer with a beautiful woman and a newborn baby on the other side of the screen.

Notes: Ngl to yall. I think this one isn't my best but imma still post it cause I want to. Hope it isn't that bad of a read, suggestions are welcomed anytime!!

"We're missing someone, aren't we? He's usually the first one here to these meetings." Gaz sat in the chair furthest from the front but directly next to Price. He wasn't that worried since neither Price nor Laswell was concerned about the missing scot, but he was curious as to where he could be.

Someone who was more curious about where the Mohawk was was Ghost. Although he'd rather die than ever utter this out loud, Soap's gruffly accent is what he looks forward to in the mornings. It lets him know that he's made it to another day and somewhat grounds him and keeps him in tune with reality when (although it's rare) he feels himself slipping. So seeing him missing was the first thing he noticed when he was the last to walk into the room and Laswell immediately started talking.

"He's been excused for the time being. He can be filled in by Price later when he's finished with his business." Laswell continued with the information she had after clearing the air about the missing Sargeant. Ghost didn't dwell on it any longer and paid attention to the meeting until it finished 30 minutes later.

After being dismissed, they all went their separate ways doing god knows what. Ghost had set off to stroll around making sure he had nothing else to do before he retired to his room to go over the files he and the rest were given in the meeting.

Simon wasn't one to wander the base. Not that he hadn't engraved every part of it into his memory out of instinct, but, he wasn't one to explore unless necessary. His small walk turned into him mindlessly looking for his Scottish partner in crime, and while it is out of character for him to be so curious as to where Soap was, he couldn't help but look.

Ghost eventually walked past a conference room and he knew from the room number he was getting close to the visitation room. That room was for family calls or special access visitations from family members if you had high enough clearance. As he was walking, he heard the missing man's ruff Scottish voice cooing in some sort of baby talk. Ghost walked up to the open room door silently and stood there seeing Soap sitting in front of a laptop cooing softly at it, he tilted his head to see what had him that way. A dog maybe?

'That sounds like something Johnny would do.'

When Ghost tilted his head, he was surprised to see a newborn baby and a beautiful woman with dark skin on the other side of the screen. A big, tired smile was on the woman's face as she held the baby in her arm. Soap leaned his head on his folded arms on the table with the softest look ghost had ever seen. His eyes held such love and devotion that if she were in front of him he'd be worshiping her from head to toe.

"I see someone is excited to be a daddy. You know he looks just like you if you squint. He's the spitting image of you John it's crazy" The pretty lady on the other side of the screen lightly giggled at the end of her sentence, her accent sounding foreign. A chuckle soon came from Soap's lips as he stared at his newborn son in his lover's arms.

"If anything he looks more like you to me. Well either that or it's the laptop's shitty ass quality and he really does look like me." There was a pause before he sighed heavily. "I can't wait to see you, baby, you and little Bailey" Soap's voice held a sadness Ghost hadn't heard before. It was like he was a different man completely. Not that Soap wasn't an expressive man, quite the opposite actually, but, he only ever showed anger, cheekiness, joy, and other neutral emotions. Never quite showing complete sadness and happiness.

Ghost felt that he was invading something private by listening and watching. Something intimate and special it almost flustered him, so he turned from the door frame and started walking ahead, only for his name to be called by the man he just left in the room. He turned to see Soap by the door waving him over to come back. It looks like the woman on the screen saw Ghost and mentioned it to him. Now that he was back, Soap tugged Ghost back into the room with a broad smile. He was gonna be able to show his beloved his best mate on the force and he was ecstatic.

"Darlin, This is Ghost, he's a part of my team. He's the scary brute around here scaring the new recruits" A gruff exhale came from the said man. He was being introduced to someone without his consent but then again, it was his fault for seeking out the Scot in the first place.

Ghost stared into the screen at the curious woman. He had to say she was quite stunning. Dark skin, frizzy hair (he's guessing from the baby in her arms, the messy hair is from childbirth), and small eyebags that showed her fatigue just a bit. His eyes zoomed in on the tiny baby laying in the woman's arms. They had blue eyes and their facial features for a newborn looked scarily identical to their father's.

"The champ looks like me, aye? She says he does and I believe it. The MacTavish genes in me run strong." Soap bosted proudly with a grin seeing his sweetheart smile at his words. Ghost nodded and looked at Soap with Amusement but something he couldn't explain. Simon felt joy for Soap. As chipper as the Scot was, there were times he'd see him at his lowest, like he was ready to rid of it all, to take the coward's way out. Alas, he would always bounce back in the next few hours to bug the hell out of ghost and talk his ear off but he knew how the lass would. Soap having another bundle of joy to keep him grounded and to keep him motivated to stay alive was something Ghost was happy about.

Soon, it was time for Soap's lover to go. She was tired evidently so Soap said his I love you's and his goodbye's solemnly and the call ended. Soap sighed and stood up, walking out of the room, toe-in-toe with Ghost, walking the hall, and heading back to the barracks.

"You know, I didn't think you would have a lover much less a child. From your bad jokes, I assumed your pickup lines were just as bad." An offended gasp came from Soap's mouth upon hearing the Brit's words.

"I'll have you know she loves my pickup lines thank you. They're part of my charm she says." Ghost could hear the adoring tone of his voice at the end. He really loved his girlfriend and vowed hed marry her soon as he is able to leave. Ghost chuckled and they walked in comfortable silence.

Soap became a daddy that day, and Ghost was happy for him.

#john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod mw 2 #cod mw 2022 #cod mwii #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #kate laswell #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #modern warfare 2 #babydaddy soap

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brighter-by-the-daly · 11 months

Text

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Part One: I Prefer Gold

Posted 21/05/23, Edited 29/06/23

Since joining Barcelona at the beginning of the season there was only one thing on your mind - winning the Champions League. Okay okay, that’s a lie - there were two things. Winning the league and an English player called Lucy Bronze. You’d grown up idolising the defender from a young age and now you’re on the same team it had given you a chance to get to know her personally as well as professionally. Day and night your brain had become consumed with thoughts of the brunette - the way she runs faster than anyone you’ve ever known, the way her smile lights up a room, the way her trousers are a little too baggy but most of all you were obsessed with the way she unknowingly lifts her top up to expose her rippled abs. Well, you thought she did it unknowingly but zoning back into reality you realised she was staring right at you from across the field where she’d caught your eyes on her stomach. Noticing that you’d been caught you quickly glanced away hoping to hide your embarrassment by talking to another team mate but there wasn’t anyone around. You were the only one on the bench and unable to play off that you were just chatting to someone your cheeks began to turn red, even from the other side of the training ground you could tell Lucy was chuckling to herself. Cover. Blown.

“(Y/l/n) laps with Bronze!” the coach shouted. Great. Perfect. Absolutely bloody marvellous! Rolling your eyes as you bent down to tie your boots you then dragged yourself across the pitch to meet her at the other side. “Can’t keep away from me can ya!” her cheeky smile paired with her Northern English accent sent sparks through your body as she elbowed your side. Racking your brain for a come back that wouldn’t expose your crush on her you settled with - “who better to test my pace against?” Lucy wasn’t short of confidence when it came to her body, her capabilities in the game or her way with women. “Catch me then!” she shouted as she legged it away from you “I haven’t stretched yet!” you called out causing her to spin and jog backwards shouting “excuse, excuses!” before turning around and finishing her run. Your eyes firmly on the back of her body as the day dreaming started again while you were out of her sight.

Making sure you were ready to give her a run for her money and finishing stretching your quads you felt Lucy’s heavy footsteps approach “ready to get beaten?” she called out cockily. ”In your dreams Bronzey!” you shouted back at her as you sprinted away without warning. Lucy’s calls from behind about cheating didn’t bother you and soon faded into the distance, you just wanted to beat her by any means necessary. Reaching the other side of the field you were ecstatic, jumping around to hold a L to your forehead soon realising that Lucy hadn’t even moved. Clearly not wanting to partake in a competition under false pretences or unfair conditions you jogged back to her with a cheesey grin on your face “couldn’t stand the heat could ya?” poking her ribs. “Coach wants you to fasten your runs, that’s not gonna happen if you don’t run with me” she said defiantly. Your eyes rolled instinctively making her fold her arms and look at you disappointed. The look on her face had a slight smirk, trying desperately to seem serious when she doesn’t have a serious bone in her body, the eye contact made you feel weak. “Day dreaming about me again?” she questioned, the smirk on her face now growing. “Absolutely not, you take up no space in my mind” you punched back. Lies. She sees right through you “then why you biting your lip again?” the questioning continued. Shit. Am I? Fuck I am. “We running or not?” she chuckled again at your quick change of conversation as she got into position.

3. 2. 1. You were off. Pushing your body to it’s absolute limits trying desperately to beat her. Length after length neither of you stopped. Little digs and comments flying between you until Lucy tapped out. “If you tap out, I win!” you called to the brunette in front of you as you pulled up to the line. “You really wanna be the person who wins through default?” her eyebrows raised, challenging your competitiveness. “I guess your old age worked in my favour” you shrugged knowing the comment will get her riled up. “You’re only 4 years younger than me you cheeky cow!” she took the bait slapping your shoulder. “As I said.. Old. Age” her cockiness had obviously rubbed off on you and she wasn’t enjoying you now having the upper hand now. “No one can beat me, just get over it loser” she shoved you lightly “the only way you’d win is if I piggy backed you across this field” she laughed. “I’d like to see that!” Alexia said as she approached you both. “I wonder if you could keep up your speed carrying (y/n) too”. Lucy was adamant that she could and at the calls that training was over said it’d have to wait for another day then jogged away to get changed.

Alexia pulled you aside before heading back to the changing room, “what’s with all the flirting? You like Bronze?” shrugging at her question “eh, I prefer gold” you winked at her, not realising your crush was still in ear shot. “Oh! Stab me in the heart why don’t you!” she shouted so loud it echoed around you as she looked back holding her heart in a dramatic fashion. Your mouth dropped open at the realisation she’d heard you. “Oh yeah, this old lady has impeccable hearing don’t ya know!” smiling as she went.

Shit.

Part Two

#Lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #barcelona wfc #barcelona femeni #lionesses x reader #woso masterlist #woso x reader

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incandescentlysomething · 24 days

Text

Lady of the Ashes: Chapter 6

House of the Dragon Season 1

Aemond x TargaryenOC

Chapter Word Count: 4893

She was his everything… For her…he would do anything.

From the moment of her birth, Aemond Targaryen swore himself to the protection of his niece Aelinor Velaryon. As the two grew up inseparable, they find themselves entangled in the Dance of Dragons, battling to stay together even as their families try to pull them apart.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Cross posted on A03

Let me know what you think!

Masterlist A03

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 P.1 P.2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

It was nearly noon when Aelinor awoke, the sun peeking through her curtains and disturbing her peace. She had lain awake for several hours after her night with Aemond, unable to think of anything else but him. How he had held her hand, how close they had been to kissing. It seemed almost childish to be thrown out of sorts by something as simple as a kiss, and yet she was unable to push it from her mind. Alas, when she had finally fallen asleep, it had been a deep one.

Someone was pounding on her door. “Aelinor! Mother wants you.”

It was Jace, and he took her answering groan as permission to enter the chamber. “Why are you still asleep?”

“I’m not asleep, am I?” She rolled over, wincing as she stretched her muscles. “What does Mother want?”

Jace poked her foot through the covers. “We need to begin getting ready for the festivities.”

“We?”

“Well, you do. You have to do your hair and…other things.” He looked genuinely baffled, like he couldn’t fathom what kinds of preparations a woman might have to do to get ready for a royal banquet and ball.

Aelinor heaved herself out of bed with a sigh, accepting the heavy dressing gown Jace handed her to cover her nightgown.

“Is she up yet?” Luc poked his head through the door. “Oh, good morning Aelinor. Or should I say afternoon?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, knotting the dressing gown at the waist.

“Why are you so tired?” Jace asked.

Aelinor shrugged. “Not used to the bed, I guess.”

“I, for one, found the bed and chambers quite comfortable.” Jace said, moving out of her way as they moved into the corridor. “Far less drafty than Dragonstone.”

She searched for an excuse in her sleep-addled brain, unable to come up with anything believable.

“We stayed up late playing cards,” Luc said. “Aelinor wouldn’t let us go to bed until she beat me.”

She thought her younger brother a grateful look, appreciating that he was covering for her.

“And did she?” Jace asked, believing the excuse.

“No, she gave up.” Luc laughed.

Aelinor yawned loudly. “You’re both impossible.”

They stepped into the main room of their family’s chambers, and were immediately met by a throng of people. Maids bustled to and fro, unpacking garments from bags, some already set up with needles and thread to make necessary alterations, and others opening boxes of jewels. Aelinor held her dressing gown a little tighter to her body.

“Aelinor!” Her mother was seated at the small breakfast table, watching two of the maids entertain the small children. “Are you just waking up now?”

“Yes, Mother. I feel rather like the walking dead this morning.”

“Why? Are you ill?” Rhaenyra reached out to touch her daughter’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.”

She shook her head. “I just stayed up too late.”

“Losing at cards.” Jace teased.

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing Aelinor’s hand. “As long as you’re well. Did you have a good evening, card games aside?”

Aelinor hated lying to her mother. Part of her just wanted to tell her the truth, admit where she had been and who she was with. Her mother had always humored her more rebellious side, and likely wouldn’t be as furious as she was imagining. Not to mention, things would be infinitely worse if her mother found out from whoever had been spying on them in the library.

But still Aelinor was not able to admit everything. “I had a good evening. It’s nice to be back.”

“It is.” Rhaenyra agreed. “Now, we must begin getting you ready. Starting with that hair.” She teasingly pulled on a string of Aelinor’s tangled mane. She had gone to sleep without braiding it, and it was looking quite unkempt.

A maid was waved over, and Aelinor dropped into the seat opposite her mother, reaching for a half-empty plate of biscuits. She chewed slowly as the maid ran a brush through her hair, combatting the tangles one by one.

“The fashion seems to be to wear one’s hair up now,” She said absently. “Perhaps with some braiding throughout?”

Rhaenyra gave her a small smile. “I think it’s best that you wear your hair down, darling.”

“Why?” Aelinor couldn’t see how dancing all evening, getting all sweaty and letting the scent of smoke and cooked meats seep into her hair, could possibly be a good thing.

But then she saw her mother’s eyes dart toward the couch, where Jace was polishing a spot off one of his boots, and she understood. In this fight for her brother’s legitimacy, she was her mother’s best weapon, and her hair was the most obvious way to wield it.

“Unbraided, then.” She acquiesced.

Rhaenyra nodded. “Oh, but we have a circlet for you, darling. You will look beautiful.”

Aelinor offered her mother a sincere smile. It had been years since they had had the opportunity to prepare for an event of this size, and it reminded her of far simpler times.

“I assume you have a dress for me, as well. Can I see it?” She winced as the maid yanked on a stubborn knot behind her ear.

Rhaenyra grinned. “Even better, I have three. We shall have to try them on to see which suits best.”

“Good gods,” Lucerys threw his head back in complaint.

“And you boys shall remain here,” Rhaenyra said quickly. “To help your sister choose.”

Jace glared at his brother. “Is Driftmark worth this, Brother?”

*********************************************************

Aemond was called to his mother’s chambers only an hour before the ball. He had been awake with the dawn, throwing himself into training bouts to while away the time and distract his mind. The night with Aelinor had been more than he had ever dreamed of, and waking up just to remember that she was betrothed to Jacaerys of all people, and that he would have to attend this cursed ball in the evening was enough to drive him into a fury.

None of the visiting nobles were willing to spend the morning on the training grounds, and so he grabbed several young squires and put them through their paces while he worked through his rage. Afterwards, he had returned to his chambers to bathe and dress. The small box inside his writing desk just made him think of Aelinor, and so he had spent more time pacing the halls until Ser Criston came to summon him.

When he arrived at his mother’s chambers, he found it deathly quiet. His brother was reclined on the sofa, head thrown back and eyes closed. Helaena sat quietly at his side, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. His mother stood in front of the window, her fingers playing with the Star of the Seven that hung at her throat, worry lines creasing her face.

“Aemond,” she barely glanced his way when he walked in. “Where have you been?”

“Training,” He answered.

“Don’t you look nice,” Aegon slowly rolled his head to the side, eyes lazily scanning him from head to toe. “Did you oil your hair?”

Aemond resisted the urge to smooth his hair. He had, in fact, run some oil through it before pulling it back in his usual style. It was more effort than he would usually put it for a court function, but he had found himself overly concerned with preparing for this event. Even his clothing — a relatively simple green and black tunic and matching trousers — had been freshly washed and pressed.

“Anyone in particular you might be doing that for?” Aegon prodded.

Aemond stiffened. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

His mother dropped her hands, turning to stare at him. “Aemond, you cannot be serious. We spoke of Aelinor. She is not your friend.”

No, she was far more than a friend to Aemond, though he couldn’t blame his mother for trying to lessen it. He didn’t reply, just placed both hands behind his back and waited expectantly.

Alicent walked toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Aemond, she is betrothed. Rhaenyra has betrothed her to Jacaerys. Everyone knows it, and it has only to be formally announced. You must distance yourself before you are made a fool of.”

He already was a fool. There was no way he could distance himself, not now. And though each reminder that she was promised to Jace felt like a stab in the gut, he kept his face passive. “And what if she does not wish to marry Jacaerys?”

Alicent shook her head in exasperation. “And who would she marry, Aemond? You? Her mother would never tie her family to ours, and we must not tie ourselves to her’s.”

“Aren’t they our family?” Helaena spoke up suddenly, surprising all of them.

Alicent barely spared a glance to her daughter. “The only family we must concern ourselves with are those who live righteously, who honor the gods and the Seven Kingdoms with their actions. Us.”

Aemond bit his tongue. He did not disagree with his mother’s sentiment toward the Princess Rhaenyra, and her sons. They were bastards, and Rhaenyra, though she had been kind to him when he was young, had stood by Lucerys even when he cut out Aemond’s eye. Had not punished the boys when Aelinor was permanently maimed by a fire. He had no love for any of them.

He just considered Aelinor to be something different.

Aegon groaned loudly. “Can we just go? I don’t give a shit which bastards are marrying which whores, and—”

“What did you say?” Aemond demanded, crossing the room in a second. Aegon flinched back, pinned between the couch and his wife. Aemond itched to strike him, his hand curling into a fist.

“Aegon, that talk is beneath you.” Alicent said, though she did not correct it. “And Aemond, leave your brother be. The fool is drunk.”

Aemond sneered in disgust, able to smell the reek of ale off of his brother. His mother was right, Aegon was a fool.”

“The banquet will begin shortly,” Alicent said. “We must be there to receive the guests. And we are all expected to attend, and remain there, for the duration of the evening.”

From her tone, it was clear that there was nothing she wanted to do less than spend a night in revelry and celebration over the return of Princess Rhaenyra.

With exaggerated groans, Aegon peeled himself off the couch, stumbling out the door without waiting for his wife, who trailed meekly after him. Alicent caught Aemond’s arm before he could follow.

“I mean it, Aemond.” Alicent said quietly. “Remember who you are, and who she is.”

“I will, Mother.” He hesitated as he studied her face. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles, and her complexion appeared more sallow than usual. “You don’t look well, Mother. Is there something wrong?”

She sighed, giving his shoulder a quick pat. “I did not sleep well. Your father…he was restless all night.”

How many years had it been, that Aemond watched his mother slowly waste away as she cared for his father, as she tried to hold the Kingdoms together? For the King to have an ill night was the last thing she needed, especially with their visitors and all the activity to come in the next few days.

He gave a curt nod. “Then I shall be on my best behavior. And I shall endeavor to keep Aegon contained as well.”

************************************************************

The banquet was in full swing by the time Aelinor made her way to the hall. The dress they had chosen had required a few alterations to fit, and so she had told her family to go on ahead. Now she was regretting that choice, as it meant she would be entering the room by herself, instead of as part of her mother’s house.

Perhaps she could sneak in. It was always possible that, if the festivities had begun in earnest, she might sneak through the doors and find her way to her mother’s side without anyone noticing her. But alas, when she rounded the corner, the doors to the hall were shut firmly, two guards stationed on either side.

Muttering a curse under her breath, she slowed to a walk, barely managing to compose herself before the doors were being heaved open and a loud voice was proclaiming “The Princess Aelinor Velaryon!”

Three hundred faces stopped to stare at her, and she found it a little hard to breathe. Stepping through the door, she tried to scan the crowd for a familiar face. There, seated at the front of the hall next to an empty seat, was Queen Alicent, with Lord Otto Hightower at her side. Neither of their expressions were particularly welcoming. She could not see her mother, not among the dozens of people paused on the floor, clearly having been in the middle of a dance, nor could she see her or any of her brothers at the long tables that framed the room. She was on her own.

With a deep breath, she clasped her skirt in both hands, the black silk of her skirt crumbling beneath her fingers as she dipped into a small curtsy. Enough to show respect for the Queen, but not so much as would be owed to the King. She rose without wobbling, and then descended the steps as quickly as she could manage. There seemed to be an awkward pause, before she heard the sharp note of a fiddle and the musicians resumed.

Keeping to the edge, she tried to pick her way past the dancers as she searched for her family. Everywhere she turned a noble she did not recognize was offering a bow or a curtsy, usually with a quietly murmured “Princess”. She returned their greetings, but did not linger. Only hours ago she had been excited for the ball, for her chance to attend for the first time. How many times as a child had she hidden up in the rafters with Aemond, dreaming of joining the dancers down below? She glanced up, wondering if there were any young faces doing the same as she had once. But not it seemed only to be a crush of unfamiliar figures, and she longed for a spot of quiet.

“Princess Aelinor,” Someone stepped into her path. He was a small, spindly man with a cane at his side, and an unsettling smirk on his face. “You have much changed.”

His fingers twitched out, nearly catching the crimson chiffon of her sleeve. She took a step back, but was pressed against another stranger, this one ensconced in a conversation and unaware of how he was entrapping the princess.

“Forgive me, Sir.” Aelinor cleared her throat. “But have we met?”

“When you were very small, Princess.” He tilted his head. “And as I said, you have grown much.”

She did not like this man. “Might I have your name, Sir. I don’t—”

“Lina!” She could have wept to hear Aemond’s voice at her side. He emerged from the center of the dance floor, pushing through a dancing pair and coming to stand at her side. “I have been looking for you.”

“I’ve only just arrived. I was speaking to…” She turned around, only to find that the spidery man had vanished back into the crowd. “How odd.”

“Was someone bothering you?”

“No, it was only strange.” She tried to shake the interaction from her mind. “My, don’t you look every bit the handsome prince.”

Aemond shrugged, uncomfortable with the compliment. But it was the truth. Aelinor could not recall ever seeing him look so fine. His tunic was embroidered with gold thread, the rich green so dark that it was nearly black. His silver hair was smoothed back, falling over his wide shoulders.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked.

Aelinor glanced around, well aware that every person around them was only pretending not to eavesdrop. “I just arrived. I have not even—”

“Little Aelinor!” A hand landed on the small of her back. “I knew I would find you here.”

“Uncle.” She greeted Aegon with a polite curtsy, resisting the urge to shuffle away from his touch. “I trust you are well?”

His eyes drooped slightly as he appraised her. “All the better for seeing you.”

“Brother, I—” Aemond tried to cut in.

“Darling Niece,” Aegon continued. “Care to dance?”

There was no polite way to refuse an offer from a prince, especially not when it had been made so publicly.

“Of course, Uncle.” She set her good hand in his, shooting Aemond a look of apology. “Perhaps I shall see you later?”

“Oh, I’m certain he will make sure of it.” Aegon tugged her away, leading her right to the center of the floor.

Aelinor could feel the eyes following her as Aegon stopped them in the center of the floor, assuming the position for a quick four step, a dance she knew quite well. When she glanced to the side, she saw the Queen standing from her seat, disappearing into the crowd just as the musicians struck up a new song.

This particular dance was quite easy, involving two partners who moved around each other in a circle, occasionally clasping hands or jumping. It was ideal for chatting with a suitor, but unfortunately, Aelinor had no interest in chatting with Aemond, not when she could smell drink on his breath.

Aegon, for his part, did not seem overly interested in conversing. He moved through the steps lazily, clearly too drunk to execute them gracefully, but also too familiar to make a complete mockery of himself. Twenty couples moved around them, all of them completely silent, waiting to catch wind of what Prince Aegon and her might be discussing.

“How is Helaena?” Aelinor began, remembering her mother’s request to behave as if nothing was wrong. “I have not yet had the chance to speak with her.”

Aegon shrugged. “I’ve not seen her tonight.”

“No?” Aelinor frowned, before plastering a smile back on her face. “Well, then. Your children, how are they?”

“I have three of them.” Aegon said, clearly not overwhelmed with fatherly affection.

Aelinor tried to drum up some sympathy for her uncle. As long as she had known him, he had never thrived in the spotlight, nor had he been enthusiastic about wedding Helaena. But as someone who had never been drawn to the drink, Aelinor could not quite bring herself to forgive his inebriation.

“My brother,” Aegon drawled. “Seems unable to keep his eye off of you.”

Aelinor ignored the jibe. “I’m sure he’s just observing the dancing.”

“Or he’s fueling his obsession with you,” Aegon leaned forward conspiratorially. “Tell me, Niece. What do you see in my brother?”

His hands had curled almost painfully into her waist. The music ended and Aelinor snapped back, putting space between them.

“For one thing,” She hissed. “He’s not a drunken lech.”

Bobbing a curtsy, she left him on the floor. Unfortunately, she did not see Aemond in the crowd. Intending to resume the search for her mother, she moved toward the front of the room, only to nearly walk directly into the Queen.

“Your Majesty,” She curtsied, feeling like she had spent most of the evening bobbing up and down. “Forgive me, I did not see you there.”

Alicent held both hands in front of her, her red hair shining against the emerald of her gown. “Aelinor. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Aelinor nodded gratefully. She would not pretend that she had ever been friendly with Alicent, but the Queen had always been kind to her as a child.

“Did you enjoy your dance?” Alicent asked.

“I did,” Aelinor said too quickly. “It was…nice to see Aegon again.”

“Hm,” Alicent looked like she did not believe her. “Well, I’m glad. I think you’ll find it difficult to source another partner.”

“Your…your Majesty?”

Alicent leaned forward. “You look beautiful, Aelinor. But no one wishes to dance with a cripple.”

Aelinor recoiled, her mouth falling open as the Queen walked away. That was…that had been cruel. Overcome with shame, Aelinor adjusted her long sleeve so that it fell over her injured hand. She knew her hand unsettled people, but it did not make her a cripple. And she would never have expected something so malicious to come out of the Queen’s mouth.

“Aelinor! Are you alright?”

The crowd this evening just seemed to keep throwing conversations her way. Thankfully, this time it was Aemond, who placed one hand on her elbow.

“Aemond,” She said quietly.

“Was that my mother?” He asked. “Are you alright, you look pale.”

Aelinor shook her head. “I’m quite alright.”

“Would you care to dance with me?” He asked, looking a bit nervous. “If you…if you would like to.”

Aelinor glanced up at him. “I would love to, Aemond, But I should really find my family. I promised Jace a dance and I—”

Aemond frowned, and she remembered how he did not like to be reminded of her near-betrothal to Jace.

Two courtiers moved past, whispering as they did. Aelinor hid her hand further in her sleeve, the Queen’s jibe stinging sharply through her veins. “I can find them later. Let us dance.”

Aemond smiled, and she thought she heard someone nearby gasp as he took her hand and led her back to the floor. They took up a spot on the edge, and Aemond grasped her waist with one hand as the musicians began. This was a slower set, allowing them to whirl between other couples in time with the music. Aelinor was a bit lost in her thoughts, her mind swirling with the music and her conversation with the Queen.

“You’re hiding your hand,” Aemond whispered. “Why?”

“What?” Aelinor looked up. He was so much taller than her, so much that she had to tilt her head back to see his face.”Oh, I just…it looks better this way.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to care very much how it looks.” Aemond said. “After all, you are—”

The music stopped suddenly, and Aelinor spun a few more steps before they stopped. The guests were all turning to the dias, where Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys, and their children stood in a neat line.

Aelinor tilted her head. “What are they doing?”

Queen Alicent was standing at the foot of the dias, her eyes wide as she stared up at the princess. It took only a few moments for the hall to fall completely silent, all eyes on Rhaenyra.

“We are grateful to everyone for being here today,” Rhaenyra said. “It has been wonderful to see so many familiar faces.”

The crowd murmured in approval.

“I think she’s just thanking the court,” Aelinor whispered, conscious of how Aemond’s hand still lingered at her back.

“And,” Rhaenyra continued. “I would like to take this opportunity to impart on the court an announcement that is sure to bring great happiness to us all.”

Jace stepped up to his mother’s side, and Aelinor felt her blood run cold. This was it. They were about to announce it to everyone, and then her fate would be sealed. She felt a few eyes turning her way, the rumor mill no doubt assuring that most courtiers could predict what this announcement may be.

“It gives me great job to announce the betrothal of my son Prince Jacaerys—”

Oh gods, here it was.

“And my son Prince Lucerys to the Princesses Baela and Rhaena. This joining of two great Valyrian houses will no doubt be a triumph for the realm.”

A thousand emotions flooded Aelinor, the foremost of them being shock. Jacaerys was betrothed to Baela? What did this mean? Her mother had never wavered in her intention to betrothe her two eldest children, and yet…she had just changed her mind before the entire court.

Jace held out a hand to Baela, both of them beaming as they descended to the floor for a dance.

Queen Alicent climbed the steps quickly, speaking in hushed tones to Rhaenyra as the room slowly resumed the party. Things made a bit more sense to Aelinor, then. The trial addressing Luc’s succession would take place the following day, and Rhaenyra had just assured that the Velaryons would support his claim. It would now be Vaemond standing against his own family, almost certainly guaranteeing them success.

But people were whispering, casting looks her way as they moved through the room. The dancing began anew, and yet she just stood there, Aemond by her side, trying to process what was happening.

“Cast aside—”

“The bastards are—”

“...betrothed to a cripple…”

It was all too much, and Aelinor turned quickly and rushed from the room. She shoved through the crowd, around one of the tables and out through one of the servant doors. She was barely aware of someone following until she felt Aemond’s hand on her arm.

“Lina, are you—”

A servant moved past, carrying a tray of sweetmeats, and he gave the Princess a concerned look.

Aemond turned to him and roared. “OUT! Now!”

******************************************************

The evening had not taken the turn that Aemond had expected. He had expected to endure a night of endless political preening, perhaps stealing a dance with Aelinor or his sister, and now he was huddled in a servants’ corridor, while Aelinor hid in the corner.

“I’m sorry,” she held a hand to her mouth. “I just….everyone was talking and I…I just couldn’t…”

“Take all the time you need,” Aemond assured her. “No one will bother you.”

In truth, he was seething inside. For a split second, he had been overjoyed. To know that Aelinor would not be marrying Jacaerys…if he were devout it would have been something he prayed for. But then he had watched the bastard lead his new betrothed into a dance, and he had seen how Aelinor’s face had fallen.

That bastard had cast her aside, her entire family had opened her up to scorn. As if the bastard even deserved Aelinor at all. No, he deserved nothing, but Aelinor certainly did not deserve to be publicly rejected in front of the court like that.

Aelinor was shaking her head. “Gods, she could have told me.”

“You did not deserve that,” Aemond hissed. “For him to gloat and—”

She held up a hand. “He was not gloating. He and Baela are well suited, and I am happy for them.”

She was too kind. Too generous. She would forgive them, she always would, just as she had forgiven them when they maimed her as a child. This was what happened when he wasn’t by her side, she was coerced into accepting this treatment from them, when she deserved far better.

“Perhaps I’ll get to go back to Dragonstone in peace,” She gave a small smile.

“You cannot allow—”

“Did you want me to marry Jace? Is that it?” She demanded. “Because after last night, I rather thought that you…that we…”

“That we were what?” Aemond stepped forward until her back was against the wall.

Aelinor sighed. “I don’t know, Aemond. Tonight has been overwhelming, and there are so many people here who I do not know. I just need to go back to Dragonstone, to people who understand me, and it will—”

Aemond reached up and ripped off his eye patch. “I understand you!”

Her lips parted as she stared up at him, at the blue gem that flickered in the torch light. Aemond’s chest was heaving with some kind of craze, and he knew he should step back. He had to, before he did something that both of them regretted. But nothing in him was strong enough to move away from her.

Slowly she lifted her injured hand, silk sleeves falling away as she let her fingertips trace the edges of his scar, inching closer to his eye.

“That’s my sapphire,” She breathed. “You…you actually did it.”

“Of course I did,” He lifted his hand to grasp hers. “How could you think that I don’t understand you?”

“I…that is not what I meant.” She whispered.

“I know,” He nodded. “And…I don’t mean to force your hand. You deserve better than your brother, and I won’t pretend that I am a better option. I only wanted you to see that I…that I have always…”

“Aemond…” She leaned closer.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and Aemond wrenched himself away just as a servant came through carrying pitchers of wine. They waited until the servant had passed into the ballroom before speaking again.

“Thank you, Aemond.” Aelinor said, kneeling to the ground to pick up his eye patch. “Thank you for always being there.”

He couldn’t find the strength to speak as he took the eyepatch from her. Sighing, Aelinor stepped past, “And Aemond?”

“Yes?”

She gave him a small smile. “I do not think you should have to hide, either.”

Aemond watched her disappear through the door before retying his eye patch, making sure to cover his eye entirely. When he stepped back into the room, he saw Aelinor making her way toward her mother, but his eye sought out another.

On the dance floor, Jacaerys spun Baela in what must be their second or third dance. Aemond felt his blood boil. Aelinor might be willing to forgive, but he was not so generous.

Before the night was out, the bastard would answer to him.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team black #team green #aemond #aemond x oc #fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #fanfic #lady of the ashes

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friedbaekhyunandeggso · 11 months

Text

found you - ch. 2 (part II)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, profanity, pet-names (baby, kitten), stalking/possessive themes, manipulation, dub/non-consented sex, nipple play, size kink (slightly), fingering, begging, oral (f receiving), praising/dirty talk, rough sex, choking (a lil) & jus gojo being unhinged (as usual)

word count/plot: [6.4k] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins...

a/n: i took forever to edit this bc for some reason i thought i already posted it LMAo BUT y'all i'm like 75% thru w the next chapter n i'm lowkey scared to post it LMFAO (yes ik i'm a slow writer but pLS bear w me, next chapter is also hella long & wild). anyway tysm for all ur comments on the last post, esp the long ones! i read all of them & they make me happy :,) pls enjoyy

ch. 1 , chapter 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3

She jolted when she heard a knock on her bedroom window. She glanced over at the electric clock on her desk. 7:16 pm.

She swallowed, glancing over at her bedroom door to make sure it was locked before her head whipped around at the sound of his voice.

“Hi, baby.”

He stepped out from behind the curtains, that easygoing smile on his face. He wore a navy blue half-zip sweater, layered with a white tee underneath and loose-fitted light gray sweatpants. His platinum hair tousled as usual as he approached her. He looked like a model who'd just gotten off-duty.

She was rooted in her seat when he stepped up to her. His hand resting on the back rail of her chair as he bent low to press a light kiss on her neck. His familiar scent wafted over her as she turned away.

His hand slipped over her stomach to subtly push her back flat against the chair. She held back a slight gasp.

“I missed you at school today.” he muttered.

After their ‘altercation’ earlier, he tried to convince her to come back to school with him. He offered to take her in his car but she refused-using the excuse that she already called the school saying she was sick. He then promised that he’d see her after basketball practice. She wasn’t looking forward to it.

For a second, she wondered if she should hide in the basement again but she couldn’t even if she wanted to because her Dad had come home early. He would question why she was in the basement if she stayed there for longer than necessary.

She glanced over at him, her voice low, “My Dad’s home.”

“I know.” he murmured beside her ear, “You told me over text.”

She was hoping that would deter him. She shifted slightly in her seat as his hand began to caress her stomach, “Why are you so afraid of him?” he asked.

She went still-immediately tensing up in her chair. His eyes were attentive as he watched her. Millie had told him that her parents were strict but that was all he knew.

She lightly pushed away his hand from her stomach, “I have to use the bathroom.” she whispered.

His hand wrapped around her neck, his lips at her temple, “Don’t lie to me.”

She shot out of her chair, stepping several steps away from him to get some distance. “I-I don’t want to talk about it.” she gritted out.

She didn’t look at him, her shoulders stiff as she stood still. She felt her arms shaking at her sides as she mentally prepared herself to feel some sort of pain for her defiance. But instead all she was met with was the sound of a low sigh.

She felt hands cup her face and immediately looked up. His eyes glittered, in the same way that the ocean appeared when sunlight skimmed its surface. Not that she would know–she’d only seen it in videos.

He searched her face, “Fine. But you’ll tell me soon. You’ll tell me everything soon.”

He tilted his head, “Every problem of yours is mine.”

She merely stared at him. She wished she could scream. The type of scream that could let out all the frustration she was feeling–let out all the mental torment because she was so tired of feeling like this. She hated the tiny voice in the back of her mind that wanted to tell him everything-everything down to the miniscule details because she was tired. Tired of being so alone.

But she refused to share her problems with someone who was one of her problems themselves.

Why did life have to be this way?

She snapped out of her thoughts when she felt his lips press into hers lightly.

“Let’s go somewhere,” he said, against her lips.

Her eyes widened as she pulled back.

“We have my car. Let’s go somewhere–anywhere you want.” he offered.

She stared at him—silently watching the excitement grow in his eyes.

His hands at her face squeezed slightly, “C’mon, there’s gotta be something you want. Tell me.”

She shook her head, pushing his hands away from her as she looked aside. “I have homework to do.” she muttered.

“Such a good girl.” he teased, before tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She resisted the urge to smack his hand away. He was always finding some excuse to touch her.

“Don’t you have school work to do as well?” she questioned. He was second in rank-right after her-and yet she'd never seen him do any schoolwork.

“I did most of it during my free period. I have some other stuff left but I can do it in the morning.”

“The morning?” she questioned.

He nodded before frowning, “I should’ve just brought my backpack with me. We could’ve studied together.” he pinched her cheek.

She immediately turned her head away and he chuckled. Before she could distance herself any further he grabbed her by the waist.

“I didn’t bring any books so I could pay attention to you, y’know. Now don’t make me sad and tell me where you wanna go.”

She shifted awkwardly in his hold-her hands going to his forearms, “What are you talking about-”

“Ara, I want attention,” he said, flat-out.

She froze, simply staring at him before blurting, “What are you-a baby?”

He grinned, “Yes, your baby.”

He cupped one of her tits, “I got needs, Mama.”

Just as her face twisted up and a chuckle nearly escaped his lips, her Dad’s voice suddenly arose.

“ARA! Come down and do the dishes!”

They both froze.

She pushed herself out of Gojo’s grasp, “Coming!”

Just as she headed towards the door, he grabbed her wrist.

“Listen, you better think of something or else I will.”

She hesitated before pulling her arm away and quickly leaving the room.

She stood outside her room-nervous. She had the excuse she was going to use on the tip of her tongue but she wasn’t sure how he was gonna take it. His reactions always varied.

Just as she reached for the doorknob, her room door opened and someone grabbed her arm–dragging her inside.

“Wha–” she nearly yelled but Gojo clamped his hand around her mouth.

“Shh.” he said as he silently closed the door behind her.

She glared at him, speaking through his hand, “Are you crazy? My Dad could’ve seen you.”

Her Dad had just been making his way up the stairs.

He dropped his hand, “You were taking too long. How many goddamn dishes were they?”

In truth, she had taken a while on purpose.

“A lot.” she mumbled.

He squinted-doubtfully-while watching her cross the room to her desk.

He folded his arms, leaning against the door, “Did you think of something?”

She avoided looking at him, “I seriously have work to do, Satoru..”

He uncrossed his arms, letting them drop to his sides, “I knew you were gonna say that.”

“What the hell..” she muttered, while looking at her open notebook before her. All of the questions she had to work on were already filled in. She flipped the page to see he had answered the rest of the questions as well.

She nearly jumped when she felt his arms slip around her, “Happy birthday.” he teased.

She blinked-in shock. She racked her brain for an excuse. Anything–something—

His arms squeezed around her tighter, pulling her further into his chest. He nuzzled his face into her hair, “My plan.” he murmured, possessively.

Gojo glanced over at her before tugging at her hand in his.

He pulled her into a hug, “You look so damn cute.”

She closed her eyes, merely letting herself get crushed before ducking to pull herself out of his grasp.

“You’re just saying that because I’m in your sweater.”

They had waited until her Dad retreated into his room before leaving through the window. As they waited, Gojo had wanted to pick out her outfit. She refused-instead she decided to wear black cargo pants and a graphic tee she had lying around.

He’d insisted that she wear his half-zip pullover on top because it might be ‘cold’ but in reality he just wanted to fulfill his fantasy of his girl wearing his clothes.

She stopped short, staring at the matte black McLaren P1 parked on the street. She resisted the urge to let her mouth fall open.

She turned around, “I want to go home.”

In truth, she didn’t want to be outside in the first place. She didn’t like the idea of sneaking out, especially with her Dad home but Gojo hadn’t stopped nagging. So instead the argument boiled down to making the trip super quick. He promised she’d be back in her room in a ‘jiffy’.

He grabbed her shoulders, “What happened?”

She couldn’t stand it. Him casually driving a $2 million car. It was downright obnoxious. She hated that she knew such details but it couldn’t be helped. She had a car phase back in middle school.

She glared up at him, “Did you do this on purpose?” she asked, without a second thought.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, sounding genuine-for once.

Her annoyance got the best of her as she spat, “Is this why you wanted to go out this bad? So you can show off.”

He raised a white brow, “Show off? Show off what?”

She eyed him, warily. There’s no way he doesn’t know what I’m talking about. He’s the school’s biggest flexer and he knows it.

She stared at his clueless expression with growing doubt. Does he really not know? Is driving luxury cars that much of a normal occurrence for him? How infuriating.

She looked away from him while responding flatly, “The car.”

He glanced over at the car before looking back at her. His expression blank. He repeated the action with a furrowed brow before finally drawing the connection.

He started to laugh, brightly, “What—No, no. I take the McLaren out sometimes since my Dad’s barely around to use it. It’s not mine.”

She stared at him in dubious shock. He’d said the words so casually it was maddening. Even the airiness of his laugh sounded rich.

She wanted to scoff. As if ownership is the concern. Did he not realize the price of that car could change the entirety of someone’s life? A person could go from homeless to having enough money leftover to leave to their children. She’d be set for life with that kind of money—she’d never have to rely on her Dad again.

“I want to go home.” she murmured. She didn’t think she could step in that car without feeling sick.

His hand came up to her throat and she was forced to look up at him. Her eyes went wide.

His cool, turquoise eyes scanned her face, “It’s my plan, remember?”

She swallowed, before nodding silently. His hand felt cold on her neck. She wondered if he could feel her pulse.

“Stop worrying.” His hand slid to her jaw, his thumb grazing over her bottom lip, “You’ll be home in no time.”

She stared up at him. Her heartbeat going off at a flimsy rate as she realized there was no getting out of this one. Something about his tone made it clear.

She jolted when his lips suddenly met hers. His lips were delicate—prompting. Light, short kisses that were followed up with another. His hand on her jaw drawing her closer.

The kiss felt like a reminder. A reminder that this was still his way, his rules.

She covered her face in her hands, despite the car windows being tinted already.

She hated the attention.

She knew it was coming-she anticipated it a mile away. There was no way people were going to ignore a car like this at an ice cream parlor.

She already recognized half of the people here from school. It was the local ice cream spot that everyone went to. She was grateful Gojo respected her rule of wanting to keep their ‘relationship’ private because she was certain she’d crumble to dust if she had to step out of the car with that many eyes on her.

And yet, Gojo did it with ease.

She kept her hands over her face when the door of McLaren opened upwards in its obnoxious fashion. She didn’t need to look to know several people were staring at Gojo slip into the car.

She felt something hard poke at the top of her head, “Kitten.”

She raised her head to see him lower a soft serve ice cream cone in front of her. Apparently, that was something she was required to get.

She took it, “Thank you.”

A short laugh left him and she glanced over to see him sitting comfortably in his seat, arm resting on the ledge of the car door. A subtle grin on his lips as he stared at her.

“Is being seen with me that much of a problem?”

She tensed, her grip on the cone tightening as she tried to come up with a safe answer. Her mind drew a complete blank—betraying her.

Her heart beat skyrocketed when she suddenly felt Gojo’s large hand on her thigh. He squeezed.

A soft sigh left his lips and she couldn’t resist glancing his way. She tried to keep the fear off of her face only to freeze when she was met with a rather fond expression on his countenance.

His thumb caressed her thigh, “You’re shyness just makes me want to mess you up more, y’know.”

She was rooted in spot when he leaned over to place a light kiss on the corner of her lip.

He leaned back in his seat, “Go on,” he urged, faint amusement laced in his tone as he gestured towards her cone, “Eat.”

She complied, licking up the side of the soft serve. It was delicious. She couldn’t remember the last time she had it.

“How is it.” he asked, his voice oddly tight.

She licked her lips, before glancing over at him. For once his eyes were dark, nearly black. A thinly amused smile rested on his lips. She couldn’t understand his expression. She stared between his eyes, her heartbeat racing when she realized he looked.. almost.. hungry.

“It’s.. good.” she murmured.

His hand on her thigh squeezed again, making her jolt subtly.

Suddenly his face was in her neck, a breathy sound leaving his lips as his hands slipped underneath her shirt. One hand slid around her back, pulling her close to him by slipping around the curve of her waist. His other hand crept up her stomach before cupping her tits over her bra—squeezing tight.

“I can’t take it,” he nipped at her neck, “You’re gonna look so pretty giving me head.”

Her eyes widened—belatedly clocking why Gojo insisted she get the soft-serve ice cream.

She writhed underneath his hands at her tits, “Ungh—“ she shoved him away with her free hand, “You’re such a pervert.”

A dry laugh escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, running his hands over his face. Her breath stopped short when she saw the outline of something protruding in his sweatpants as he shifted in his seat.

He lowered his hands, his eyes glittering as he faced her. His head still against the headrest, “Only for you.”

“That… doesn’t make it any better.”

A smirk lit his face before his hand suddenly wrapped around her neck. She froze.

“It’s your fault. If you didn’t make my dick hard the second we met, maybe I wouldn’t be like this.”

His fingers began to caress her neck, his eyes sharp-yet endearing somehow. She felt like a flighty dove being petted by its owner-while the owner decided to kill it or not.

“You’re everything I’m not. No one knows a damn thing about you. You barely talk—in fact, you go out of your way to avoid people,” he laughed slightly, “The one friend you got, you made on the bus.”

“You're not involved in sports or clubs—not even a internship or volunteering. You’re somehow on every teacher's good side,” he smirked a bit, “That’s impossible for me.” She didn’t doubt it, Mrs. Finch was living proof.

“You don’t party, drink or smoke,” he shook his head, “You can’t imagine my surprise when your name was called first during ranking.”

His blue eyes shimmered in the dark, “A girl I didn’t even know exists. A quiet ace. Too reserved for her own good.” The words felt almost mocking.

His fingers tightened around her neck, “I was so mad I never noticed you before.”

He chuckled slightly, “Suguru didn’t get it. He didn’t get why I had to know you,“ The corner of his lip tugged upwards, “Why I wanted to peel back every layer of you and figure you out.”

“But I.. I had to understand how someone like you exists. There’s no way someone that smart wouldn’t show it off. There’s no way you’re first in rank with no extracurriculars either, but—you're just that good aren’t you?”

His face was close to hers now, “Have you ever gotten anything below a 95 in your life?”

She wasn’t breathing. It was true. She hadn’t—she wanted to say she was naturally gifted at school. And maybe she was to some extent, but without fail-she always tried on her assignments. No matter how hopeless, depressed and alone she felt. Completing her assignments and getting good grades was the only validation she got. The only validation that felt just.

She happened to get close to teachers because of it. Teachers always respected her intellect, despite her introvertedness.

“It would’ve been easier if I was mad at you,” he mused, a faint smile on his lips, “Suguru thought I was—he thought I felt one upped by you. And I guess I did.. for a bit.”

He chuckled, “Ego is such a fickle thing.. You don’t know how much you bruised mine when you didn’t even speak to me when I first approached you.”

His smile widened, “No one’s ever treated me like that. Even people who don’t like me still spare me a word, at least.”

His hand around her throat drew her closer, “You looked at me like I was nothing.”

A dark smile spread across his lips, “And now I’m gonna become your everything.”

Just as he lowered his lips for a kiss, she wrenched out of his grasp. Her back partly against her seat and the car door as she breathed raggedly. She felt drops of ice-cream slip past her fingers and make puddles on the floor.

She closed her eyes, trembling so bad that she didn’t even want to look at him.

“Ara,” his voice felt distant to her ears, “Araa, did I scare you?”

She flinched when she felt his knuckles graze her cheek, immediately facing the other way before freezing when she realized she wasn’t supposed to act like this. She was supposed to act like she was afraid of falling in love with him.

But how could she? How could she act when he’d completely ruined her just for the sake of his ego. She felt sick—absolutely sick. She wanted to be anywhere else but in the car with him. Home or miles and miles away. Anywhere but here.

“Ara,” his voice was soft, closer, “I’m sorry, kitten, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She flinched once more when she felt his hand run down the crown of her head to her nape, smoothing down her hair.

“I just meant that you’re mine.” his tone was low, assuring. “You were always mine. The rankings just helped me find you.”

His fingers tightened around her nape slightly, “I take care of what’s mine.”

Her exhale came out staggered as she tried not to cry. Her trembling body straightened slightly as she opened her eyes to face him. She knew her eyes were watery.

His eyes were cool, a calm ocean-blue as he assessed her.

“I know.” she murmured, through wobbly lips. Carefully slipping her mask on in silence.

She thought she saw something flicker in his eyes, “Yeah?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as he drew her closer to him—letting him kiss her. The kiss wasn’t kind. She knew he was tasting her-tasting the ice cream on her lips-her mouth-as he kissed her. His hand on her nape held her firmly as he tilted his head to kiss her more.

The kiss felt like a claim; a claim that seeped further into her skin the longer he held her lips captive. She had a sickening feeling that she was signing her life away.

She knew what was going to happen when they got home. And it was confirmed when he stopped by the convenience store on the way back.

She didn’t need to look in the bag to know he’d gotten condoms. He got her a lollipop, one for himself as well—as if they needed more sweets after all the ice cream they ate.

The second they made it through the window, his eyes were on her—the hunger in them palpable.

She swallowed, stepping backwards slowly, “You're staying the night?” she asked, despite already knowing the answer.

It took him two strides to stand in front of her, he grasped her chin, “Of course, baby.”

His crystalline eyes scanned her face before he bent over to give her a kiss. Just as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, she drew her face back.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom.” she didn’t know why she was whispering but it couldn’t be helped.

He stared at her for a moment before releasing her chin. “ ‘Kay, kitten.”

She quickly entered the bathroom attached to her room and locked the door. The second she was alone, she teared up. She wished she could stay in the bathroom forever. What would he do if she did? Would he break in the bathroom door? Would the sound of that awaken her Father?

She shivered, hugging herself tight as she hunched over the sink. She felt like she was going to throw up.

Her hands went to the countertop’s edge, her fingers tightening around its sides as she forced herself to breathe. She couldn’t afford to break down just yet. Gojo was waiting in the room for her and who knows what he would do if she took too long.

She closed her eyes, wanting to scream. She knew what she didn’t want to do but she knew what she had to do.

“It’s just an act,” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking, “Just an act.”

Her body gradually went from trembling to stiller than stone as she convinced herself-convinced herself that she could do this. Despite every nerve ending in her body telling her to run as far away as possible.

She didn’t dare look in the mirror before her; she knew one look into her own eyes would make her lose all resolve. Instead, she straightened and stepped out of the bathroom.

She glanced around her dark room. The moonlight streaming through her open curtains being the only source of light within the darkness. Her eyes landed on Gojo.

He was laying down on her bed, shirtless, lollipop in his mouth. Bright blue eyes already on hers.

A light smile graced his features as he pulled out the empty lollipop stick from his mouth and tossed it somewhere on the floor. He sat up, his cool eyes looking her up and down before patting the space on the bed in front of him.

She hesitated before walking stiffly towards him. Her resolve slowly slipping away with each step. Every signal in her body told her to walk the opposite direction.

When she was two steps away from the spot of the bed he’d gestured towards, he reached out to her. His hands slipped around her waist—pulling her in between his legs on the edge of the bed.

“Are you trying to tease me by walking slow?” he nearly whined.

He ran his hands along her sides before tugging his sweater off of her. His eyes never left hers as he tugged off her shirt next. She did her best to refrain from trembling.

His eyes widened in appreciation at her lacey white padded bra.

He bit his lower lip before bending over to pull down her pants. She jolted when his hands went to the back of her knees and calves, maneuvering her legs to step out of her pants.

He leaned back then, his eyes looking up and down her body before letting out a low groan. His hands on her hips squeezing needily.

“Fuck, so pretty.”

His index fingers hooked into her panties on either side of her hips—bunching up her panties before tugging upwards. She gasped, nearly falling forward as her panties rubbed against her clit.

Her hands went to his thighs to keep from falling and he smirked.

“These are mine.” he murmured into her ear before bending over to pull her panties down. She shivered when she felt his temple graze her hip as he maneuvered her legs again to get her to step out of her panties. He lightly bit her hip before sitting up straight.

He slipped her panties into his sweatpant pockets, a shameless grin on his face. She flushed.

His hands slipped around her ass, drawing her closer between his legs until she felt the tip of his cock against her navel through his sweats. She gasped when his large hands squeezed her ass cheeks while nipping at her neck.

His lips and teeth were insistent along her neck and shoulder—she knew there would be marks. The hickeys from their first time still hadn’t completely healed.

Suddenly his hands were at her tits, squeezing heartily while he marked the skin between her collarbones. She winced.

He withdrew slightly, squeezing her tits once more, “Fuck, baby, this bra is so cute. Makes you look so pretty. Gonna buy you one in every color.”

He squeezed her tits hard and she trembled slightly.

“G-Satoru-please.” she whispered.

“Please what, kitten.” he murmured before reaching around her to easily unclip her bra.

“Y-you hold me so tight.”

She felt his cock twitch against her belly. He cupped her bare tits, his thumbs running over her areolas before squeezing her tits in the entirety of his palms.

He groaned, “Cause these tits are mine, baby.”

Suddenly his arm slipped around her ass and she was flipped onto the bed, her back to the sheets. He lay atop her, his mouth on her tits.

His tongue lapped up her areola, the tip of his tongue flicking at its center to make her nipples harden. Once her nipple hardened against his tongue, she felt his hard cock twitch against her lower belly. His hips bucking into her as he fondled her unattended tit in his palm.

He sucked her nipples, hard—repeatedly swirling his tongue around it at first before sucking her tits like he could actually get some breast milk. He pulled away slightly, staring at her perky, puffy nipples with a satisfied gleam in his eyes before lowering his head to leave a dark hickeys on the side of her breasts. His clothed cock grinding against her spread legs all the while.

She whimpered as he began to give the same attention to her other tit--now palming the one that was covered in love bites.

His tongue flicked her nipple in his mouth before groaning. He withdrew slightly to look up at her and mutter-a string of saliva attached to his lip, “Could suck these tits forever.”

She couldn’t deny the feeling him playing with her tits elicited. It made something in her grow hot-hot enough to make her squirm. But due to being completely surrounded by Gojo’s huge body she couldn’t move as much as she would’ve liked.

She grit her teeth, unable to hold back a low moan as he moved the flat of his tongue over her hard nipple-flicking at it with the tip of his tongue. Her back arched, putting more of her tit in his mouth before she slipped her fingers through his white hair and pulled him back. She couldn’t take it.

His blue eyes were immediately on her, searching her face closely. She trembled slightly before deciding to distract him by pulling his face up to kiss her. He eagerly complied.

His lips crashed into hers, tongue viciously sweeping her mouth. He was hungry.

The pace of his grinding picked up a thousandfold, almost as if he were trying to fuck her through his sweats. His cock was so stiff, she couldn’t help but whimper in his mouth as he kissed her.

He drew his head back slightly to bite at her bottom lip. She felt his large hand slide down her shoulder, past her collarbones, over her tits, her stomach before coming to a stop at her entrance. His fingertips touched her pussy lips.

He broke the kiss to watch her expression as he slipped his fingers into her—only to end up groaning himself.

His head dropped as he began to pump his middle and ring finger in and out of her slowly, “So fuckin’ wet.”

She whimpered as his fingers continued to pump into her—the feeling making her twist underneath him.

As she began to writhe, his face somehow came before hers, “Does it feel good, baby.”

Her eyes widened, her face immediately heating up. She would die before admitting anything he did felt good—even if it unfortunately did. It felt so much better to be touched by someone else than herself.

Why’d it have to be him making me feel like this?

Suddenly the pace of his fingers picked up drastically and she cried out. Her insides instinctively tightening around his fingers.

"S-satoru! Unghh-ah!-oh my-nnnghh!" she mewled.

“There you go,” he muttered as she began to moan and whine at each rough fingerfuck. He dipped his fingers knuckle deep within her, his pace insistent.

He perused her writhing figure beneath him, his firm form keeping her in place. Her tits swung upwards with each forceful shove of his fingers. He flushed, his cerulean blue eyes locked in on her face as a subtle smirk bloomed along his lips.

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” his voice husky, “You look so fuckin’ good.”

Her walls clamped around his fingers and his smirk widened. He dropped a light kiss on her lips, “Want you to cum, kitten.”

His fingers managed to move faster within her. She yelped, her back arching as she pushed at his shoulders. He didn’t budge.

“Please-no-nnghh–ah!-uh-”

“Wanna see the pretty face you make when you cum all over my fingers.” he spoke into her temple.

“N-no!” she gasped out when she felt it—horror consuming her when her body seemed to respond to his words, his pace. Her insides grew hot, hot in that way that felt torturously good.

His hand clamped her over lips when she screamed in betrayal. Her body writhed uncontrollably as waves after waves of pleasure rolled over her, making her shake around his ruthless fingers.

“Fuck, so hot.” he gritted out-his eyes never leaving her face. He kept up his pace until her shakiness subsided.

“Such a good girl.. gave me what I want so fast,” His smirk reappeared, “You like my fingers that much?”

She frowned-her voice hoarse as she responded instinctively, “N-no.”

Suddenly his thumb pressed against her puffy clit, making her jump. He began to rub her clit at a perfect pressure.

“Ah!-Goj-nnghh-no! Fuck-” she moaned, unable to stop herself.

“Liar.” he grinned.

She grit her teeth, hating the control he had on her body with every part of her being. She attempted to squeeze her thighs together-to end his ministrations but it was useless. His firm waist planted between her legs left her with no control. She couldn’t ignore his hard length poking at her inner thigh, it was as if it were demanding her attention.

Suddenly he leaned back-lifting his fingers to his lips to taste her juices. The sight was filthy and intoxicating.

“Mm-Fuck, taste so good, kitten.” he muttered, before lowering himself. He wrapped his hands around her thighs and immediately placed his mouth over her clit.

She jerked forward, gasping-but his hold on her thighs kept her legs wide open.

“Gojo!” she cried out through gritted teeth. He sucked along her clit and entrance with such diligence—as if he were starving.

“Nngh—P-please-haah-” she wanted to beg him to stop but it seemed to have the opposite effect. His hands tightened around her thighs as he dug his face deeper between her legs.

The feeling was so unexpected she couldn’t help but whine in desperation. Moans slipped out of her as his tongue expertly licked her cunt. It was overwhelming.

He lapped up her clit, making her jolt. The flat of his tongue rubbed against her tense nub-making her all too sensitive. She couldn’t take it.

“S-Satoru, stop! St-unghhh-ah-nngh! Please-please.”

He sucked her clit deliriously-as if he couldn’t get enough. His tongue powering past her rowdy hips and her futile attempts to shove his head away. His arms around her thighs forced her hips down and apart. His tongue swirled endlessly around her puffy clit-the tip of his tongue pressing and sucking right where she needed it most.

Her mewls went silent as she spasmed, cumming harder than ever. She felt like she was floating. Her body bucked as she bit her lower lip-hard-to hide the obnoxious moans on the cusp of her lips. Her body felt like it had been caught on fire-in the best way possible.

When he removed his lips from her cunt, she stared up at the ceiling-refusing to let herself wallow in the self-hatred threatening to consume her. Why am I enjoying this?

She winced when she felt his fingers slip into her cunt again. She was so wet and gummy inside that the action made a subtle lewd sound. He groaned, pumping his fingers into her lazily, “Fuck-so wet-so ready for me.”

He slipped his fingers out before climbing atop her to press a passionate kiss to her lips. He kissed her so hard she was pressed deeper into the bed. His tongue tangling with hers, kissing her roughly as if trying to consume her.

He broke the kiss, “You taste yourself, hm? Did you taste how sweet your pretty cunt is?”

He spread her legs apart, “Gonna use this sweet lil cunt as many times I want.”

She shivered as she watched him look her up and down with such obvious hunger. Her legs instinctively drew closer but he shoved them apart.

Her eyes widened in horror to see that he was already naked. Condom already on his cock.

Before she could even react, his hand slid around her neck. His grip tight around her throat as he thrust his full length into her.

She couldn't even scream, her back naturally arching as her cunt was forced to adjust to him. It didn't matter how wet she was, his cock always pried her apart. Her breath was stuck in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut, teeth grit together in pain. The action had been so rough, she couldn’t handle it.

Suddenly his hand on her throat slid to her jaw, forcing her to face him above her.

“Look at me, kitten. Look at what I do to you.”

She wanted to sob-a weak sound leaving her lips as his hand around her jaw tightened.

“Ara..” he murmured into her temple so breathlessly-so needily-as if she were his most desired prayer. As if he'd die without her.

She whimpered, her cunt inadvertently squeezing around him. His breath caught and she knew she was doomed.

His fingers clasped around her throat while his other hand gripped the softest part of her hip, before fucking her like a ragdoll.

She didn’t know how the bed didn’t fall apart, she felt like her insides were. She was so loud-her throat was sore from how loud she was. His hand over her mouth was the only thing saving her dignity.

She felt like she could feel every veiny ridge of his cock, burning into her insides with each rough fuck. He made sure her cunt took all of him in-no matter how tight the fit was. It felt impossible to get used to.

“Ara.. oh, Ara..” he breathed huskily into her neck, “F-fuck,” his hand tightened over her mouth as he continued to fuck the daylight out of her.

The sounds of their lewd sex filled the air. She couldn’t breathe. Tears slipped down the sides of her face. Her throat scratchy.

“Feel so good, baby, fuck,” he babbled, “You get me so hard-haah-Wanna hear all those cute lil sounds you’re makin’—fuck-so perfect, perfect fuckin’ pussy.”

His cock pistoned into her relentlessly. She wasn’t sure she had a single coherent thought left in her brain.

And suddenly, his breath hitched and she swore his cock grew stiffer. His hips stuttered before slamming into her completely, forcing her hips to rise as he buried his cock deep.

Panic swarmed into her at the thought of him having no condom but she remembered, she’d seen it on his cock before he entered her. She shivered when she felt something warmer than her insides pour into her, though it felt much more subdued compared to when he’d dumped loads of his cum in her before.

She shivered when his cock continued to twitch. His hands gripped her hips tight as he continued to push her body up to lodge his cock deeper, as if wanting her to feel every single part of him.

She let out a low, staggered cry at the sensation of feeling so full. Her back arched, her tits pressing into his chest as his cock rocked into her.

He groaned desperately, his face pressing into the side of hers. She was sure his grip on her hips was bound to leave marks.

Finally, his cock stopped twitching and she heard him sigh.

He cupped one of her tits, caressing her, “You make me feel so good, kitten.”

She shivered when she felt him lightly kiss her jaw, then nip at her throat. She knew there were bound to be marks left later.

She shifted slightly underneath him, he was still inside of her. He was still hard.

Her voice came out quiet and scratchy-almost fearful, “I-I’m tired, Satoru.”

His lips over her collarbone paused their ministrations. She felt her pulse skyrocket at his silence.

Suddenly his face appeared before hers, the tips of his platinum hair touching her forehead as his blue eyes scanned her face.

“Don’t be selfish now, Ara,” his voice was gravelly yet soft as he lowered himself to kiss her. The kiss was gentle, probing-she felt his cock twitch.

“We’re just getting started.”

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aphroditelovesu · 1 year

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Yandere Rhaenyra Targaryen Headcanons (General)

‘‘You don't need to be afraid, my love, I will always protect you.‘‘ - Rhaenyra Targaryen.

❝🐉— lady l: Your Majesty, Rhaenyra Targaryen 🙇‍♀️ 🙇‍♀️. I finished another one of the HOTD saga and this one was from My Queen (😍😍), I hope you guys like how it turned out. Soon I will post more about the ASoIaF universe in general! Good reading and sorry for any mistakes, feedback are always welcome! ❤️

❝tw: yandere themes, obsessive and possessive behavior, described violence, dub-con, slight NSFW, overprotection, torture, murder, blood, jealousy, and unhealthy relationships.

❝🐉 pairing: yandere!rhaenyra targaryen x gender neutral!reader.

Rhaenyra Targaeryen is the epitome of the word "possessive friend", if that makes any sense. She is a great and loyal friend, the kind you know you can tell pretty much anything to and she will always keep all yours secrets because she knows you will do the same for her. She is a possessive and attention-seeking friend, and all of this only gets worse after Alicent's marriage to her father and the princess' feelings for you grow stronger and stronger. You have become everything to her, the only person she loves so much. You are Rhaenyra's entire world, hers alone.

One of the princess's strongest traits is her pride and her stubbornness and they are two that no matter how much time passes, they will never change. Rhaenyra took an instant interest in you when she first saw you in the halls of the Red Keep, they were both children and she knew she wanted and would get close to you. And so she did. She approached you when no one else did, for you being of a lower birth, of a vassal house, didn't make you interesting to anyone, but suddenly all eyes and whispers turned to you after the princess clung to you.

Rhaenyra demands your presence constantly, since you were friends until she became Queen, she wanted to have you always by her side. She won't take no for an answer and she can and will use her privileges as a princess, Your Princess, against you if necessary. She won't be deprived of you, she won't, and if someone tries to tear you two apart, she's going to have to deal with her fury.

You are her best friend, confidant, and possibly lover. Rhaenyra trusts the world to you, it's you she looks to for advice and comfort when needed. Needless to say, you have a great deal of power over her, but it's not like she cares. Rhaenyra is willing to do anything you ask, as long as she doesn't push you away. The only thing Rhaenyra isn't willing to do for you is let you go, even if you begged her on your knees, she'd still say no. You belong to her, beside her.

Rhaenyra will drag you into all kinds of situations possible, from the funniest to the most uncomfortable, if you complain to her about it, she'll just say, ''Nothing matters as long as we're together'', she puts a lot of faith and trust in you. One of her favorite activities to do is flying Syrax with you behind her, hugging her tightly. Feeling her arms around her waist while her eyes are closed and her head on her shoulder leaves her in pure ecstasy. She knows you're afraid, but she pretends she doesn't notice her discomfort, because it's just another excuse to have you clinging to her. And believe me, Rhaenyra takes every chance that presents itself to have you hold tight to her.

Nyra's possessiveness is overwhelming and very dangerous, you are hers and hers alone and she will never share you with anyone. Everyone is well aware of her obsession with you and no one is foolish enough to try to seduce the Princess/Queen's love. The few who dared were never seen again, some say they were burned by Syrax and others say Rhaenyra had them brutally murdered and put their heads on stakes to set an example of what would happen to those who dared to cross her, but there are few really reliable sources. The only true statement is that everyone who dares to flirt with you doesn't end up hitting it off in the end. Rhaenyra has great esteem and love for you, she loves you more than is considered healthy and she has no boundaries and no qualms when it comes to her feelings for you. It is known that Rhaenyra would kill every one of her suitors with a sadistic smile on her face, that she would burn them alive for you to see how far she is willing to go for you.

Along with her uncontrolled possessiveness comes overprotectiveness as well. To say she is overprotective is an understatement, she is much more than that. She is paranoid and acts crazily when you are in danger, shouting orders to maesters regardless of the injury inflicted on her. No wound will be treated lightly, and those who inflicted it on his beautiful skin have become dragon food. She doesn't care if she's going too far, you're all that matters to her and she won't let anything and anyone take you away from her. You are hers to keep and protect.

You are one of the few people Rhaenyra would be willing to give up her claim to the Iron Throne for. Although it's pretty obvious to everyone that she wants to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, she still fears losing you the most. You are the princess's entire world and just the thought of you leaving her drives her crazy. If you asked, Rhaenyra would run away with you and drop everything. If it was anyone else, the answer would be no, but it's you, her love and her obsession. There's nothing she wouldn't do for you and if it becomes necessary to relinquish her throne for you, then so be it. She knows that she can face anything as long as you are by her side.

Rhaenyra is pretty bossy when it comes to taking you. She picks you up wherever and whenever she wants, of course, always with your consent. She loves taking you under the stars, hearing you moan her name as she explores all of your erogenous zones. She is very unlikely to follow the traditional and romantic path, unless you really prefer it that way, otherwise it is very likely that she will take you hard, whether using her fingers or riding you, either way, she will make you see the stars while she is above you. Definitely fond of nicknames like ''Queen'' or even less traditional ones like ''Mommy'', Rhaenyra will go wild when she hears you call her that, as she likes control and having you completely submit to her will doesn't makes her feel nothing but the purest pleasure. She is very skilled at using her tongue and will love to lick or suck you, wanting to show her skills to you.

In a more platonic way, she will still be possessive and protective, but in some ways more tolerant of you. By having no loving feelings towards you, Rhaenyra will be less suffocating in her obsession. She will still monitor them and force them to stay by her side, but they will have more freedom than before. You could do anything you wanted as long as it didn't involve something that could hurt you. The freedom you think you have is nothing more than a sham, as she or someone she trusts will always be lurking around you.

She is still ruthless and can turn cruel if necessary and is necessary when you are in danger. Rhaenyra will spare no effort and resources to destroy all her enemies. Some dare say that the nickname ''Maegor with teats’' came about because of you, on account of the atrocities committed by her when it comes to you. Scruples is not a word that exists for her if you are involved, cruelty will be met with cruelty. You are a pure being, in her view, and no harm should be done to you.

You are the most precious asset she has, no one can take you away from her. You were born to stay together and die together and if that order is not followed, everything she fought for will be in vain. Rhaenyra loves her family more than anything, but she loves you more so if she has to sacrifice them to save you, that's a price she's willing to pay, no matter if you hate her after the harm he's done, as long as you are alive and breathing in front of her, everything will be done without remorse. Rhaenyra knows this fight for the Iron Throne could cost her everything she has, but she would never forgive herself and be the same if the price were you. You can never leave her, you are the only one who understands her, who comforts her and who loves her, her greatest source of strength and inspiration in the face of so many tragedies. For you, Rhaenyra will do anything and you know she will win this war with you by her side. Ask her what you want, if you want the Seven Kingdoms, they will be hers, because for you, there is nothing she won't do.

#yandere house of the dragon #yandere hotd #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #yandere rhaenyra targaryen #yandere rhaenyra targaryen headcanons #yandere rhaenyra targaryen x reader #yandere headcanons #hotd #asoiaf

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euphoriacafe · 13 days

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What if it was all over?

What if the order 66 never happened- the Republic had won the battle- the galaxy was safe finally. Of course, you would only be finding out when someone screamed on the top of their lungs in the bar that it was finally over.

You were standing in your kitchen, washing any dishes you dirtied from dinner. This was how it was usually- dinner alone every night and occasionally you would have it with him.

Yes, him.

He was the one who rarely had the time since of course…he was a solider- like he would say, ‘It’s his duty to put the republic before anything else.’

Rough. That’s what it felt like.

But when shore leave would come around for him, he would be making a beeline to your home. He would knock and then spend his time holding you…caring for you…loving you.

He said he didn’t want to form attachments because the war’s were dangerous and there’s always a chance he doesn’t make it. The other excuse was it was against their protocol to have families or to even be seeing anyone- but something always drew him back to that very door.

It’s almost a week already since the news that the war was won. Yet, he never returned.

What is something happened to him?

What if he was just using you to take his stress out?

What if-

Your thoughts raced and your heart felt like it was slowly breaking as it ached at the terrible thoughts. You held onto the counter as support letting your caf become cold and watered down.

The kitchen was dark and cold.

You felt used…alone…conflicted…hurt.

You didn’t hear the door open or close since you were locked into your thoughts- you had a small tears rolling down your cheeks as you were looking down at the counter.

With your back being exposed from the shirt you wore- you suddenly felt a warm hand tracing from your shoulder blades to your shoulder.

Another hand was gently placed onto your hip.

What knocked you out of your thoughts was the lips that pressed against your shoulder blade to the other side of your exposed neck.

It was him.

Wolffe.

You felt your muscles relax under his warm touch to your cold goosebump skin. His voice was raspy, tired, low.

“Cyar'ika, I’m home.”

You turned around to look up to him scanning his face for any hint of if this was your imagination or if it was real.

You reached your hand upwards towards his face placing it onto his cheek, his eyes went from love to worry at the sight of you crying.

“You’re…really here.” You whispered in disbelief.

“I…you…” You stuttered over your words being but off completely with Wolffe dragging you towards his body to hold you.

“I’m here cyar'ika,” He spoke laying his head on top of yours, time finally seemed to be going slow. “And I’m not leaving you again…I’m here.”

“It’s all over…I’m not leaving you.” He whispered holding you closer.

You closed your eyes taking in his scent, he wasn’t wearing his top armor over his blacks. His body was warm.

You melted into his grasp listening to his heartbeat.

If you enjoyed this post- please reblog and like. It’s not a necessary but it’s gladly appreciated!

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testingthewatersss · 4 months

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I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 6 3500 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

“Does… Does she have to call me that?” Bucky murmurs, looking awfully shy.

“No” Y/N chuckles, “No, handsome- She’ll call you whatever you want.”

“Can… Can you call me Bucky, please?” he asks, eyes looking up towards the ceiling again, “Sargent Barnes, doesn’t— uh, it doesn’t feel right, right now”

“Sure I can, Bucky— are you happy to accept the family-access I outlined earlier?”

“Oh so that’s why you decided to offer your assurances, huh?” Y/N sniggers, resuming their path up the stairs, “Here I thought you were just bein’ sweet”

“I don’t know what you mean, Ms Stark”

Y/N laughs again, and Bucky finds himself unable to control his curiosity.

“What do you mean, doll?”

“She’s getting impatient with us” she tells him calmly, “She wants you to tell her if you’re happy with the security allowances of if she’ll have to re-negotiate the parameters— that’s why she chimed in, she was trying to rush us along”

The AI doesn’t deny her statement.

“She can do that?”

“Sure” Y/N says, guiding him towards a corridor, now, “She can do whatever she wants”

“Within reason” FRIDAY alters, “but, to bring us back to the topic at hand—“

“Okay” Y/N chuckles, “I hear you—Buck, are you okay with family access? it’s the same as me and Tony, it’s basically a free pass”

“But…” he says, coming to an abrupt stop, “But what if.. what if somethin’ happens and you need… and you need to stop me—”

“Hey” Y/N says, tone firm, “That’s not going to happen.”

“But if it did” Bucky counters, “If I have access like that then I’d— I’d be a threat and I—”

“Excuse my interruption, Bucky” FRIDAY inserts, “But in the very unlikely event of a ‘Code White’ we would recognise the need to alter the parameters and temporarily implement control measures until the situation was managed.”

“A code white?” he asks, blinking between the roof and Y/N, “What-“

“Yes, FRIDAY” Y/N bristles, “What is a ‘code white?’”

“It’s your brothers protocol” the AI replies, “for if there is a problem involving ‘The Winter Solider' “

“Right” she says, “and what exactly does the protocol entail?”

“Mainly it’s the withdrawal of Bucky’s access to the internal operating systems within the building, though it also triggers an alert to make sure that you, your brother, and Captain Rogers are aware of the possible threat.”

“Is that all it does?” she asks, anger she’d felt towards her brother for setting this up behind her back starting to ease, “It doesn’t initiate any hostile actions?”

“No, boss— Mr Stark was very clear in his coding— Sargent Barnes is not to be treated as a threat, and if we become concerned about his condition, no offensive measures are to be taken— all actions would be geared around securing him until somebody with authority arrives to manually intercept.”

“No exceptions?”

“No, boss.”

She nods at that, and makes a mental note to buy Tony dinner one of these days.

“So” Bucky says, catching up— “If I… if something did happen, I- I’d lose access and you- you’d be told to come and get me from wherever I was?”

“Looks like it” Y/N agrees, “I’ll go over everything properly later but it looks like T has it all figured out”

“Then I accept” Bucky says, “But only as long as you promise me, Doll— Promise me that you’ll keep the ‘code white’ stuff in place, no matter what.”

“Bucky” she tries to reason, “It’s not necessary- I keep tellin’ you, it doesn’t work that way, you’re not some kind of time-bomb—”

“It makes me feel better” he tells her honestly, “Knowing that if somethin’ did happen, somethin’ I can’t control then you’d still be safe, I— I’m always so worried ‘bout that, doll, you know I am, and this, this might be a way I can relax a little”

She understands, even if she thinks it’s awfully sad.

“Alright” she sighs, “Alright, sweetheart, we’ll keep the ‘code-white’— but I’m not promising I won’t tweak it a little, I don’t know what he’s set as a ‘trigger’ for it yet.”

“Deal” Bucky accepts, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, “I… I accept the- the access.”

“Thank you” FRIDAY says, “and, I have uploaded a comprehensive list of ‘code-white action points’ to your tablets, boss— you can review or alter them at your convenience, your brother transferred control of the protocol to you last week.”

“Last week?” She echos, genuinely surprised, “When exactly did he start working on this little project?”

“Two weeks after you moved into the safe house, boss— He finalised it a month ago, but I assume he was waiting for you to make your relationship public before giving you access”

“We weren’t public last week” she counters, “What changed?”

“I’m not sure” FRIDAY replies, “but I would suspect it was something to do with the mission you returned from, as he reviewed the details shortly after you first returned.”

“Son of a bitch” she mumbles, “He heard me, on the quinn jet.”

“What?” Bucky asks, “wh-“

“Tony” she sighs, frustrated, “He must’ve heard me talkin’ to the others on the way back from that base— I keep forgettin’ his Russian isn’t terrible anymore…”

“So he… he knew?” Bucky checks, “He knew about—“

“If he had this thing set up a month ago I’d wager he’s known for awhile, I bet he heard me tellin’ Steve and figured that if I was doin’ that then it must’ve meant I was close to tellin’ everyone else.”

“but, he… he didn’t try and stop you from seeing me?”

“Why would he do that?” Y/N asks, genuinely confused, as she tries to urge him back into walking.

“Because I…” Bucky begins, obliging and taking a few more steps towards a door at the end of the hallway “..He… he-”

“I keep tellin’ you, sweetheart” she says, “I know he was angry when you first met, but was more hurt by Steve for not just being honest with him. You just happened to be there when it all blew up.”

“But I-”

“-You” she cuts in, “didn’t do anything, Bucky- Tony has a temper, but he’s smart, he understands- Sure, I didn’t want to rub this whole thing in his face but I never tried to hide it from him either, not like I did with Rodgers so he’s had plenty of time to adjust to the whole idea of us bein’ a couple.”

“But why has he gone to so much trouble?” Bucky asks now, “He didn’t have to do any of this, doll, not- not helpin’ keep Rogers away today, not tellin’ FRIDAY I was comin’—”

“He probably feels bad” Y/N shrugs, hand reaching out for the handle, “He’s not good at apologies, grand gestures have always been more his style.”

“Why would he feel bad?” he presses, genuinely not understanding, “It’s me who-”

“He lashed out, love, he hit you in the face” she reminds him, “more than once.”

The door to the suite they’re going to share opens silently.

Y/N beams, nodding at him as he peers over the threshold.

“I had it coming“ he mumbles, not being able to stay silent, “I deserved everything he did and more—”

“Looks like he disagrees”

“What?—”

His question dies in his throat as he steps into the room. His eyes widen as he takes in expanse of the space;

It’s beautiful. Soft, beige carpets, with deep burgundy walls, and dark, old wood.

It’s calm and welcoming and, layed out across leather arm chair that is to the left of the seemingly real fire, there is a huge pile of clothes.

Mens clothes. Large mens clothes.

Thick cable knit sweaters, sweat pants, jeans, and lots, and lots of t-shirts, all lying there, with a single red bow on the top of the pile.

Y/N steps towards it, and peels off a note, smiling as she hands it to her lover, who blinks at it, like it might burst into flames.

Welcome Home — T. Stark

p.s used Cap’ for the sizing. Y/N can show you how to exchange if needed.

“I think it’ll fit” she coos, holding up a dark blue jumper, “You’re not far off Steve, are ya’ love?”

He’s so overwhelmed by the gesture that he really doesn’t know what to say.

This is all more than he could ever have expected, and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

Not one single piece.

“8” he says, looking at her urgently, “8, Y/N, please this… this is all too much”

“Okay” she murmurs, discarding the sweater back on the pile, “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

“This” he huffs, looking around, “it’s too much, it— it’s too- it’s too nice, I— I can’t, I can’t take it, I— I can’t”

“You” she purrs, “are going to have to get used to niceness, Bucky. You haven’t had nearly enough of it lately.”

“I can’t take it” he repeats, imploring her to understand, “not after everything I’ve done —”

“You haven’t done anything” she counters calmly, “I know you disagree, I know it feels like it was all your fault, but it wasn’t— it really, really wasn’t”

He’s starring at her, wide eyed and anxious, one hand in hers as the other slips up, to fuss with his dog tag again.

Suddenly, Y/N finds herself remembering all the times she’s seen him reaching up to paw at his neck, before.

She’d written it off as a quirk, as something he just did when he was anxious, but now, the action makes a lot more sense.

“Baby” she sighs, softening her expression and taking a step closer towards him, “I know it’s not easy, I know none of this feels right”

“It… It’s too much” he repeats, “It… It’s just, it’s too much”

“I hear you” she tells him, knowing that he’s used to not being allowed to speak, let alone being listened to, “I know it’s a lot.”

“I can’t…” he says weakly, “Y/N/N, I don’t deserve any of this”

“C’mere” she says instantly, guiding him into a hug, “You… god, Buck— You deserve the world.”

He’s clinging to her back now, chain around his neck long forgotten.

His face is buried against her shoulder and all he can think about is how he doesn’t want anything other than her.

“We can put the clothes in the closet?” she suggests, “You don’t have to process all that today, not unless you want to.”

“I… I don’t think I can” he admits, “I- I can’t take things from him, doll, not- not after everything’-”

“Alright” she agrees, “Okay, we’ll put them away, and you can look at them when you’re more settled in”

That still involves accepting them, so she takes the small nod he offers as a major victory.

“For right now” she coos softly, “Why don’t you take a look around, huh? find somewhere to unload your bag.”

“Will you come with me?” he asks, voice muffled by the position he’s in, “Please?”

“Sure” Y/N agrees, smiling as she takes hold of his hand again, “Where do you want to start?”

They start in the entry way, because it’s where they’re standing.

Once Bucky has saciated his need to examine the door they’d come through, they head towards the mantel. He asks her if the fire is real, and she laughs, asking what he means by ‘real’-

“It’s a self-maintaining energy source that produces heat, without the flammability of conventional flames”

He stares at her, brow furrowed in confusion;

“When it’s turned on the imagery mimics a wood burning fire” she explains, “and it releases heat molecules to warm the room up, but because it’s man made it doesn’t catch like regular fire. It doesn’t spread or burn unless we tell it too, so we can leave it goin’ for longer and not worry ‘bout any accidents.”

“You, you made that?” he asks, awe slipping into his tone as he crouches, to stare directly at the glowing embers.

“Yeah” she chuckles, “I had a spare weekend, and it bothered me, y’know? having’ to keep lighting actual ones every time I wanted one going…”

“It even sounds real” he murmurs, listening to the muted crackling, “and the logs, they’re… they look so solid”

“Well” she says, almost flushing with pride, “No point in doin’ somethin’ if you’re not goin’ to do it right”

He laughs at that, turning to face her with a genuine grin on his face.

He’s amazed and it shows.

Y/N doesn’t think he could look any more beautiful if he tried.

“C’mon” she beams, “I’ll show you how to work it.”

There’s a hidden panel on the side of the ornate mantle. FRIDAY helpfully lets him know that controlling the systems are part of his security privileges, and by the time he’s finished fiddling with the buttons, he’s decided that having the sound effects 1% lower, whilst raising the heat by 12% is the way he likes it best. Y/N sets it as their new default, but reminds him that he can change it anytime he likes.

Next, they head into their little kitchenette. It’s quaint, and easy to navigate. After living in the safe house he’s familiar with microwaves and coffee machines and other than the small refrigerator unit and stove top there doesn’t seem to be anything else he’d need to master using.

Until the woman he’s with holds her hands over a panel on one of the counter top and a holographic book appears in the air. She chuckles at his intrigue and explains that she and Tony had been acquiring recipes for years— from restaurants and friends, from family and private chefs— so at some point the pair had decided to scan them all in and create their own cook-book. She flips through a couple of pages, demonstrating how easy it is to navigate, and reminds him that FRIDAY can find or translate anything he wants.

“You can have her add groceries to the list, too” she says offhandedly, “Delivery day is usually Tuesday but we can usually make stuff appear a little sooner if we need it.”

It’s mind blowing.

They go up a set of three small steps and open one oak door before reaching the ‘bed room’ portion of the suit.

It’s different to how he’d pictured it.

Really, the whole thing is different.

He’s seen a lot of fancy houses in the magazines that had gathered in the safe house. He’s seen a lot of marble, and sleek black furniture that, when paired with sparse surfaces seemed to be called ‘modernism’ and that is more what he’d envisioned whenever he’d pictured the home of the woman he loves.

Now he’s seen the reality, he can’t justify why he’d pictured her living somewhere that barren. This, is much more her, which is a welcome relief. Not one part of living in a place as sterile as the ones he’s seen pictured had appealed to him, really, even though he’d have done so happily for her.

The walls in this area are cream, but the built in storage is wood that’s been painted with a deep, dark navy that’s chipping off in places. The bed frame itself is the same dark wood that had accented the adjoining space, and there is clutter everywhere.

He sees a small arrangement of bronze trinkets, and a collection of books on one of the bedside tables, the other, however is bare aside from one vintage picture frame, which, he notices houses a picture of them. It’s of them from a couple of months back, when she’d gifted him a polaroid camera that he still carries everywhere he goes.

It’s on the right, because that’s the side of the bed he sleeps on. Because that’s where he has the best view of the door, and where he used to stand the best chance of escaping from, before someone came to hurt him.

Bucky realises that he’s been silent for a long time when he feels her thumb brushing over his knuckles.

He clings to her hand and tries to take it all in.

“The bathrooms through there” she says, nodding towards the only other door in the space, “Bath, shower, toilet and all that good stuff”

He nods, mouth suddenly very dry.

“How about I go get those clothes for the closet?” Y/N offers, “You can take a bit of time to get settled? Poke around a little.”

She sees him getting ready to object, so she decides to cut him off, kissing him before whispering out an “It’s your home too now, Buck” that seems to hit him awfully hard.

With a nod, and a final squeeze of her palm, he lets go, pawing at his eyes to try and force back the tears that are suddenly stinging behind them.

He’s in the bathroom when she comes back with his presents. She hides them in the side of the dresser she’s kept empty for him, only leaving out a pair of sweat pants and a long sleeve t-shirt that she thinks he might want to wear before bed. She lays those across the end of the bed and tops them with a pair of wool socks that she bought a few days before her last mission.

By the time she’s done, he’s back out in the main room, having slipped out whilst she was too preoccupied to notice.

She does however notice the pair of boots that have been placed by the entrance to the bathroom.

Her heart swells in her chest, and when she almost trips over his backpack, which has been left by the end of the bed, she almost starts crying herself.

He’s by the fire again, hovering by the worn leather couch— she’s about to call out a greeting but he turns to face her with an expression so captivated that she can’t quite get the words out;

“What’s this, doll?”

He’s asking about the large wicker basket that’s stuffed full of blankets. It’s by the armchair, close enough to both that, and the fire to make it easily accessible by everyone who might want to grab a quilt from inside.

“That?” she checks, closing the distance towards him, “That’s a basket full of blankets.”

Bucky hears himself gasp at her answer. A thick, teal cover slipping through his metal fingers as they continue to dip into it’s contents.

“Why?” is all he can think to ask,

“Because” Y/N answers calmly, “I wanted to make sure that nobody was ever going to be cold in here.”

“D-do I really get to stay here?”

Her head tilts. The waiver in his voice hitting her like a hard punch to the throat.

“Sweetheart” she whispers, seeing the emotion in his face, “Sweetheart of course you do.”

Before she can take another breath he’s in her arms. He’s throwing himself against her chest with enough urgency to wind her as she moves to hold him, too.

“Hey” she gasps, “Hey, it’s okay, you’re alright.”

Bucky forces himself to nod, because it’s all he can think to do.

“This is your home now” she tells him, “Yours, and mine, okay? nobodies goin’ to make you leave.”

and then, he’s crying.

Grateful, relieved, painful little sobs wracking up from his chest because he just can’t fathom trying to swallow them down.

This is so much more than he’d expected. This whole thing has hit him so much harder than he’d thought it would.

And he’s safe, and he’s finally, really, really safe, and he’s with Y/N, and she doesn’t have to go anywhere, because she’s already there, and he gets to stay. He gets to stay with her, he gets to have a home again, but this time, he gets to share it with the woman he loves, and that is all he’s wanted, since he remembers wanting anything at all.

and it’s real. It’s real and he’s crying because he just can’t stop.

“Bucky” she soothes, “Bucky, sweetheart, what’s the matter?”

“N-nothin” he gasps, “I- I’m… I just… I-”

Understanding floods her at once, and then, she’s smiling, pressing a kiss against the top of his head as she lets him come apart against her shoulder. As she lets him settle himself in the privacy her body can offer him.

“I love you too” she swears, waiting until he finally pulls away to dry his cheeks with her fingers, “I know comin’ here took a lot, and I know that it isn’t goin’ to magically make the past 80 years ago away, but I really do think that with time, when you’ve really settled in you’re goin’ to feel better”

“I already do” he tells her quietly, “This… this is already better”

“Good” she beams, “now, do you want to try out the shower? I’m sure you can figure out how it works without me-”

“If” he sniffs bravely, “If I say I can’t, does that mean you’ll show me?”

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