#I hate when I succumb to this. the shame that follows is immediate

[yourbleedingh3art]

Sometimes I just really don’t want to be spoken to and somebody speaks to me and I’m like

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Marley's Guardian Ⅲ

ARMIN x f.reader

A/N: as requested by lovely @ivalioneisavenue ! so sorry I took sooo long on this request i know it was very anticipated! 🫠 i got a bit distracted along the way but i hope it's as enjoyable as the prev. parts!

🏷️;  @chuuyasballz / @fckwritersblock / @sad-darksoul

Wc: 1.4k

Overview; after enduring both Eren in the cell and Levi in the interrogation room, Armin comes to help you and tend to your wounds once again.

Content; canonverse, light fluff, angst, Marleyan reader

Warnings; light S4 spoilers, injuries, implied interrogation

arminsumi's library

An authoritative voice reverberated through the gondola, the owner being a redhead giving an impassioned speech. You watched him pace back and forth, your mind slipping in and out of consciousness.

In your half-awake state, you could only barely make out the situation; you’d been restrained and tied up after protecting your little sister and Falco from the rage of the soldiers.

“Who is in favor of tossing them off?” the speech-giver asked his comrades.

Tossing them off? What did that mean?

A spark of realization and fear alighted your eyes, and you cried – but it was weak and pathetic, much like your posture; curled up on the floor, unable to defend Gabi and Falco, who were bloodied and weakened themselves.

Gabi kept an unwavering stare on you.

“What’s going on here?” a voice asked, one comfortingly familiar.

“These two tried to shoot Sasha. Then she acted hostile, too.”

“Nah! Don’t get it twisted. Hange, the Guardian protected me from taking the shot.” Sasha defended you.

A raging argument began, one you never heard the end of because you finally lost consciousness, the stabbing pain of your wounds forcing you to succumb to an abyssal dream.

Groggy. Cold. Pained. Confused. You woke up in what seemed to be a dungeon chamber. It felt awfully medieval.

You remember the torch flames flickering in your bleary vision. The crackles of fire, clinking shackle restraints, and dripping water – like out of a sink. Gentle breaths and footsteps neared you. As your vision unblurred you spotted in the opposite cell, behind rusted bars, two gleaming green eyes at first.

“You look awful.” Eren’s deep voice reverberated heavily in your chest.

You blinked at him. Silence ensued.

“But not worse than your little sister.”

Your chest panged. “Where is she and Falco?” you asked immediately, though your voice came out weak. Your throat was so dry and hoarse.

“How the hell would I know where they are?” he snapped unexpectedly.

Another silence ensued.

“Where is the blond?”

Eren peered at you through his cell. His brows furrowed in confusion. Water beaded off strands of his dark hair.

“The blond?” he questioned, “Armin?”

“A – rrrmeen?” you could barely pronounce his name like Eren did. “Armeen.”

Eren chortled at your struggling accent.

“Where is Armeen?” you asked again.

“I don’t know where Armeen is,” Eren mocked. He gave you a long, judgemental look. You only blinked expressionlessly at him, giving no hint to your deepest emotions in that moment.

“Why the hell did he help you? Did you bewitch him with your good looks or something?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you threaten him to help you? Probably.” He scoffed, “Knowing you… I bet you have no shame for all the pain you’ve caused Eldians, right? Not a shred of regret.”

“What?” you seemed confused, so Eren bitterly elaborated.

“Years ago, you intervened when we were about to finish off Reiner. Do you have any idea how frustrating and tormenting that was?”

“I was only following orders.” You replied.

Eren gritted his teeth. He hated that you talked in such an unfazed tone.

“Is that all you are? Just an empty shell of a person who’s only good for taking orders?” he insulted.

You just couldn’t understand why he seemed so riled up. You hadn’t attacked him or showed hostility, how could you in this state? Never mind the fact you were behind bars.

Eren stood to his full height while you sat splayed on the ground, his big hands holding onto his cell’s bars.

“Is that a bad thing?” you asked ponderingly.

“It’s sickening.”

You just couldn’t understand him.

“Why?” you asked.

Eren looked like he was a volcano due to erupt. Not that it frightened you in the slightest.

“Because you’re not free.” He said.

“I don’t understand why that matters.” You replied.

Your cool exterior seemed to push him over the edge. He snapped and yelled at you with his thunderous voice, “God, why the hell did Armin show you kindness! Is he insane!”

Stuck underground in cramped dungeons, it was terrifying to see a flash of lightning across his eyes.

The heat in the atmosphere rose, as did the tension, but just before it became alarming, the doors down the corridor opened with a bang.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Levi’s drawling voice sounded from a distance.

He walked at a quick pace to your cell and peered into it.

You caught the Captain’s steely eyes for a split second.

He turned away to face Eren, who had receded into the darkness of his cell as if he were a creature in a cave. It seemed just the Captain's presence was enough for him to shut up.

“You.” Levi returned his attention to you. His presence was unsettling, but much less so than Eren’s; in some way you were relieved he had arrived.

“We’ve got some questions to ask you. Try bite and I’ll cut your head off, ‘not like you can defend yourself in this state anyways.”

The cell door rattled open. Moments later, you were being brought into another room with their Commander; those eyes gleamed at you from behind glasses.

Levi forced you into a seat so hard that you let out a small yelp.

“Good to see you again.” Hange said half-jokingly to lighten the mood. “If you cooperate, there will be no need for these.” Hange motioned towards an array of... utensils.

Levi was eyeing you from the corner of the room. You shifted uncomfortably and coughed.

“Is my sister okay?” you asked boldly. She was the only thought in your mind right then.

“Shut up, you’re in no position to ask questions – ”

“Your sister is okay.” Hange interrupted Levi’s cold reply.

You emerged from the interrogation room with blood dribbling out your nose. You had a bit of a limp thanks to Levi’s ‘interrogation technique’.

It was then that Armin came across you, and he immediately asked – no, he pleaded – with his Commander. “May I take her into my care? She’s not hostile… and even if she was, she’s too hurt to do anything. Please?”

“Alright. Then take her.” Hange replied bluntly.

Though the blond offered to help you walk, noticing your limp, you gave him a frown of refusal. “Okay… that’s alright, then, just follow me. Don’t stray from my side.”

Was it his authoritativeness or kindness that made you want to follow his command? Maybe it was simply his gentleness of character. He was really a balm to your senses after enduring Eren and Levi.

“You need to drink something. Your lips are very dry.” Armin said, encouragingly giving you water.

But you stared at him apprehensively and recoiled when he reached out to you. He was so frustrated; all he wanted was to take care of you; but you didn’t accept his care. But he was determined to keep trying.

“Maybe you’d like to wash off?” he offered. “You have a lot of blood. I can get you some clothes, though I don’t know if my shirt will fit you…”

You didn’t reply. He let out a suppressed sigh. “Follow me.” He ordered. Of course, you followed.

He led you into a washing room. While you stood around and observed the mosaic tiles, he scurried around for cloths and soap.

Cleaning off the blood and dirt of battle was difficult. Not because it didn’t come off, but because you kept timidly recoiling at his touch. He persisted, and maybe an hour later, he managed to rub the cloth across your arm before you swatted his hand away. Why clean off the blood? It seemed pointless to you.

Even at your weakest, you still had enough strength to hurt. His hand stung a bit, but he kept trying.

“Your sister is okay. She’s locked up, but okay. And the little boy with her is okay, too.” He said, trying his best to comfort you in some way.

You didn’t respond, only looked at him, curiously analysing his features to try and understand why they made your chest flutter.

“You’ll be alright, too. I’ll make sure of it. Come find me if you’re scared or hurt.” He said with a sincere smile. Small, but sincere.

You coughed a bit when you tried to speak. Armin gave you water, pleased when you took it so willingly from his hands.

That was the only time you attempted to speak to him, except for when he carried you to a soft cot. When he laid your heavy bones down to rest, you looked up at him with a serious face.

You asked a familiar question, “Why are you so kind to me?”

Armin looked at you, withholding all his emotions in his expression.

“Why?” you repeated. You sounded so eager to know, so confused by the truth that showed in his tender gaze.

“Because...” he began quietly, thinking over his answer and choosing his words slowly and carefully. “Although you maintain that... expressionless face, I know — I can feel — that beneath it you're just a person like me.”

His face reddened a bit.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Mission

Summary: Castiel is intrigued by his mission; rescuing a human from hell has never been attempted. He's even more intrigued when he finds him.

Pairings: Dean and Cas (non-romantic) - not a Destiel fic. (No shade or shame to Destiel shippers, it's just not what I was going for here, but you do you. 😊)

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Nothing major, show level gore, Dean in hell, Dean suffering supreme angst, early seasons (aka VERY angel-y) Cas.

Word Count: 2,084

A/N: So, this has been something that's lived in my brain for a while now. I was reading a comment on a YouTube edit one time, and the person mentioned that, when imagining Cas rescuing Dean from hell, so many people have the image in their head, of Cas pulling Dean away from torture, or out of the chains we see him in. But really, of course, when Cas rescues him, Dean has already been torturing souls for a decade. So, that is what he rescues him from.

I absolutely ADORE Dean and Cas' relationship and I love both characters so much. So, this was my interpretation/headcanon of how I think things went down when Cas raised Dean from perdition.

The beautiful dividers below at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89.

The angel had never been to Hell. There had never been a need. 

Heaven was separate and apart from the demon dimension, and from earth too. Yes, they observed earth, sometimes sat in shadows and watched the humans live their lives; watched them fail and succeed, love and hate, fear the wrong things, worry away their existence and throw away their potential, accomplish incredible acts of generosity and love, create beautiful things, and all too often, destroy one another.

The angel had seen all things on earth, he knew all things in heaven, or thought he did. He knew how often humanity failed and had even heard some brothers and sisters say that their Father had been heartbroken by His creations and that was why He was hard to find these days. There were so few who spoke to God, but they seemed to think He was very disappointed. The angel knew some of his brothers and sisters saw their human charges as little more than hairless apes. 

But he found them occasionally intriguing. 

He’d been very intrigued when he was given this assignment. They were to infiltrate Hell and rescue a human from there before he succumbed to evil. When he heard of their mission, he’d wondered, why this human? 

They found out that the First Demon was trying to use him to free their banished brother from his cage. But knowing that still didn’t explain it to the angel; why this human? He had his orders and he would follow them; of course he would follow them. 

But he was curious. 

He knew he shouldn’t be - curiosity had gotten him into trouble in the past. Curiosity was almost an emotion, nearly a human thing. There was no room in an angel’s mind for wondering, for seeking to understand. Orders and rules were in place to be obeyed. That was all.

He told himself this over and over, yet the kernel of curiosity remained.

So the garrison had breached the gates of hell with trumpet sounds and waves of celestial power, but they knew immediately that they were too late. They could feel it in the air, smell it in the sulfur-filled atmosphere; the demons were rejoicing - had been for quite a while by the looks of things. The burning fires of the pit were alive with joy. The angels had mounted their offensive too late, taken too long to break through the defenses of Hell. 

And the Righteous Man had fallen. 

But the orders came through from their superiors to fight on, to get to the human and save him, rescue him, bring him out of death. So they did. 

There was no particular angel that was meant to be the rescuer; it only worked out by chance that he was the one walking through the ante-chamber and into the dungeon. They had all fought hard, and he just happened to get through first.

But as he pushed through the heavy door, into the dark, stone room, and saw the man who stood inside, the angel believed, for just a moment, that perhaps their Father had truly meant for it to be he who found him. As his angelic glance fell upon the tarnished human soul in front of him, it felt almost fated.

“Hello, Dean.”

The man did not seem to hear him or maybe didn’t care that he did. He stood in front of a table with the remnants of a sliced up soul laid out before him. The soul still screamed, but it was nearly eradicated, all burns and blood and pain.

Dean Winchester though, held onto his human form. It was an illusion, of course, there were no bodies in Hell, not really. But bodies were imprinted onto the human souls that were left to fester there because it hurt them more, terrified and tormented them more to see the flesh they knew so well being peeled off in front of them. The pain could be inflicted to their soul without it, but the demons liked the added flourish.

So, to the angel, Dean stood before the table looking like an ordinary, everyday human. And yet not. There was something different too, something the angel couldn’t define, something that brought out his dangerous curiosity once again. Dean’s soul shimmered just below the surface of his body construct, and the angel was quite sure he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his millenia of existence. 

As Dean pushed his knife into the ravaged flesh of the soul he tortured, the angel watched a black spot blossom across the bright light that was the essence of Dean Winchester. There were many, similarly dark, decaying spots marring the surface, blocking out the light. The angel had seen many such blemished human souls; even in heaven there were some souls who wore their wounds from earth forever.

But what he found very curious, what made him feel a kind of wonder and awe was that as one piece of Dean’s soul darkened, the other, clean pieces, shone brighter, nearly blinding even to his angel eyes. He’d never seen a soul fighting so hard against the darkness trying to overtake it.

He tried again to get Dean’s attention, but the man just continued his monstrous work, carving and slicing into bleeding flesh. The angel took another tactic. Perhaps the human was too far gone into Hell to hear a voice from Heaven. So, he brought forth the image of the vessel he intended to use when the angels all followed Dean to earth as the next part of their mission. 

He’d been making visits to Jimmy Novak, helping him prepare to become a vessel, testing him. So pulling up the illusion of his appearance was easy, and suddenly there were two bodies standing in the room together and Dean seemed finally to see him.

The man’s bright green eyes looked remarkably out of place in the dank hole they occupied. He stared at him and the angel nodded, beginning his greeting once again.

“Hello, Dean. I am Castiel. I’m an angel of the Lord and I’m here to rescue you.”

The jewel-like eyes blinked but there was no depth or human emotion there, and within seconds he returned to the task in front of him, dragging yet another tortured shriek from the shredded man in front of him. 

“Dean, did you not hear me? I’m here to pull you out of Hell. You must come with me. We’re running out of time.”

The man spoke and his deep voice echoed oddly, as though he was speaking from somewhere deep inside himself.

“Lies.” He said. “You’re not gonna fool me again, Alastair.”

Castiel frowned. “I am not a demon. I told you, I’m an angel, and I am here to free you from Hell.”

Dean’s body seemed to shudder slightly and he made a particularly vicious thrust with his knife into the belly of the mutilated soul he was working, ripping downwards and spilling entrails onto the table.

“Lies.” He whispered again, and Castiel could see the pain in his soul throb.

Castiel heard noises coming from outside the door, still far enough away, but approaching. “Dean, you have to come with me, now.”

Stepping forward the angel took hold of Dean’s shoulder with Jimmy’s hand. But the vessel wasn’t true, only illusion, and the angel’s grace still burned forth; he felt the way his hand singed the Righteous Man’s soul, burning him.

Dean screamed and dropped the knife, wrenching himself away from the angel and falling to the ground. He sat a moment, eyes clenched in pain before he opened them again, and looked up to where the angel hovered above him, ready to grab hold of him again if he needed to.

But what he saw in the man’s emerald eyes told him that Dean Winchester was awake at last; all the pain that emanated from his darkened soul had bubbled up into his expressive face and beautiful eyes. Shock and fear were first, but as he stood up and looked to the pitiful creature he’d ripped apart, horror blossomed there.

“Oh god.” He whispered. “Oh, god. No.” He said and he reached forward to where the man’s intestines were spilling out of his insides and, rather horribly, tried to push them back in. His voice was frantic and on the verge of screaming as he looked at what he’d done. 

“God, I’m so sorry, god, god, I’m sorry.” He looked to the angel, and Castiel was unsure what to do or say as tears rolled down Dean’s face. 

“Please, please help me.” He begged the angel. 

Castiel shook his head. “There is no time Dean, we must leave, now.” 

But the former hunter either wouldn’t or couldn’t listen. While trying to hold slippery guts inside a stomach cavity, he was also trying to put pressure on all the parts that were bleeding out. He began slipping in the blood as he tried to use his own body to stop the flow.

Castiel had no idea what to do. This was the last thing he’d expected to see. He could just grab him again and pull him out. But there was something about Dean’s devastation, the collapse of the carefully constructed walls he’d lived behind for a decade of Hell’s savagery, that made the angel want to fix it for him. 

“Stand back, Dean.”

The hunter shook his head. “I can’t, he’s bleeding too much.”

“Stand back.” Castiel repeated softly. 

Dean looked at him properly for the first time, and something in the celestial being’s borrowed face seemed to resonate in him and he nodded and stepped back. Castiel laid his burning hands on the remnants of the creature on the table and a white light shone brightly for a moment and when it was gone, the body was gone too, only blood and torn clothing remained.

Dean shook his head. “What did you do to him?”

Castiel shrugged. “I gave him a second chance. He’ll be reborn into a new body and try to see if he can avoid ending up down here a second time.”

Dean frowned and scrubbed his face with his hands, leaving streaks of blood behind. “You can do that?”

“Sometimes.” Castiel said, not adding the fact that he’d never done it before, only seen older brothers and sisters doing it once or twice. He wasn’t even sure he was allowed to do it. But when Dean turned grateful eyes on him, a semblance of relief on his beautiful face, Castiel found that he was willing to take the risk; it was worth it.

Dean shook his head. “Are you really here to…get me out?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, I’m going to return you to your real body, which is buried in a field in Illinois. You’ll have to crawl out by yourself. But I’ll be there to meet you soon after. Listen for my voice, I won’t have my vessel yet.”

Dean nodded. “I will."

Castiel started to reach for Dean’s shoulder again, trying not to burn him in any other places. But before he did, he thought he should make something clear.

"You won't remember me when you wake in your body. But I'll find you."

Hope bloomed in Dean's eyes again. "An’ I'll forget all this too?" 

For the first time in his existence, Castiel wished he could lie. But instead he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you'll remember all of Hell."

Dean closed his eyes slowly, eventually nodding. “Yeah,” he whispered, “I shouldn’t get to forget.” 

Castiel wanted to ask what he meant by that, but just then, he heard the fighting move closer, right outside the dungeon door, and he realized they couldn't waste any more time. So he gripped Dean tight, raising him from perdition. 

The hunter’s soul shone brightly as the angel raced him through the Hell dimension and through the air and sky, to finally burrow him into the dirt and set his soul carefully back into his human body. With his hand still on Dean's shoulder, the angel pushed grace through the corpse, healing the decayed flesh, and connecting body and soul once again. Dean gasped, suddenly alive beneath the soil faster than Castiel had anticipated, so he fled. 

It wasn't until later, as he saw Dean staring in the mirror, confused and shocked, that he realized he hadn't healed the handprint burned into Dean's shoulder.

For a reason he couldn’t explain, that fact made the angel smile.

NEW TAGS:

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[lookbluesoup]

15. Wiping tears away (I'lyrha)

Thanks so much for the ask (and patience!) // X'rhun Tia/I'lyrha // Rated T for blood and PTSD

Lyrha did not cry. 

She’d learned many lessons at sea; that’d been the earliest. You did not cry.

You hissed and spit and scratched and screamed, until no one dared to think you vulnerable. No sharklike men smelled your blood and mistook it for an easy meal. She was the beast they followed in hopes of picking up scraps left behind from her feast.

She’d seen, later, some women use tears to great effect. Pulling on heartstrings, making themselves desirable in their fragility. Masterful manipulations that granted them protection, favours, and strong servants eager to soothe their hungry hearts. 

Indeed, false vulnerability had its uses. And Lyrha knew how to look soft, when it was practical. Even feint weakness. But she’d taken the hard tutelage of her childhood too much to heart, and could never lower herself to the level of a crocodile, weeping for attention. 

Or weeping at all. 

Lyrha had no time for sorrows, and offenses were better answered with blood. 

She lied in other ways. Gutted men who threatened her. 

And X’rhun Tia was a threat.

…But he was not like other men. 

His was not a hand that reached first for the hilt of a blade, or a balled fist intent to dominate her. The bite of his tongue was playful, never cruel. He instigated banter rather than brawls, and though impatience sometimes claimed him, he never succumbed to callousness. 

He was, without a doubt, the most dangerous man she’d ever met.

Because none before him had ever interleaved the hard pieces of her heart and revealed something that wanted to be loved. No other man could disarm her with only a gentle smile. Or twist turmoil to her insides with the violent precision of a spiral blade, by simply resting a hand atop hers.

She felt a little like she was dying, each time he looked in her direction.

And no matter how she snarled and bristled, he remained undeterred. 

He’d seen something vulnerable in her. He’d smelled something Red.

She hated feeling trapped. But she was a bird in a cage with an open door, and still wouldn’t cross the threshold into flight. 

“If we tend these well, you might avoid scarring.” X’rhun told her, lifting her hands out of the soiled washing bin and wrapping a cool, wet cloth around the worst of the burns. Magic had not entirely been enough to heal them, with the extent of her injuries elsewhere requiring more immediate attention. 

Blood and pus and angry things… but X’rhun did not look away. “Does that feel alright?” He smiled softly, meeting her gaze. 

Anger bubbled up in her again, stinging her eyes. Blinding, numbing, violent. Lyrha glanced sharply toward the darkened water. For a moment she was sure she hated him. This wretched, deceitful man who’d never once done a dishonorable thing – he wouldn’t see satisfaction from her face. He was the worst kind of enemy, because under the guise of mending her wounds, he’d shattered her down to the core. 

No. “What’s hidin’ scars matter anyway?” She answered, tail lashing. 

She’d been foolish in the last battle; it was a lucky thing to even be alive at all. Or unlucky. 

“Hiding and healing are very different things.” He answered, still with his methodical mending. 

He sighed. It was late and the moon would set before long. A new day would be forced upon them. “Some pains are worth remembering. But they needn’t be a shame you must conceal. Nor leap out every time you look down at your own hands. Leaving them untended would be an unfair punishment, I believe.”

Blinking, Lyrha swallowed and turned toward a dark wall, instead. And gods damn him, damn his wretched compassion, but another kind of burning welled against her eyes, hot and wet and horrifying. 

She swallowed. Shut them back. Shook her head slowly, as if that wasn’t a display of weakness on its own.

“I’lyrha?” He coaxed, confusion plain, “Does it hurt?” 

Worse than anything. 

“Perhaps a poultice…”

Tears fell. 

Silent, but the intensity of her rage only seemed to worsen them and soon it was a thick stream breaking across either side of her face. 

And she was shaking. Like a mad dog. 

Blinking, X’rhun hesitated. Only for a moment. 

He reached out, cupping the harsh tilt of her cheek to thumb away the salt-treachery that bled from her. The wound he’d made. 

I’lyrha growled. 

But he didn’t retreat. He didn’t know how to give up. “Come now, Lass, you’ll be alright. I promise.”

[bonkie-barnes]

Spoons

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: chronic illness, mention of medicine, self deprecating thoughts

A/N: this is me 1000% projecting about my guilt that comes with my chronic illnesses. they're kicking my ass rn. this is a vent fic, but if you resonate with this at all, i hope you enjoy :)

- - -

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock on Natasha’s bedside table has been going off for a full minute already. You merely roll over and cover your head with Natasha’s pillow. It smells like her.

You have absolutely no energy to get up, let alone reach across the bed to turn the alarm off. Your head feels heavy and your body aches something terrible.

The list of chores you have to do around the house today sits uncomfortably in the back of your mind. The list of friends who have texted you about making plans to hang out sits there too. The idea of staying in bed all day sounds more and more appealing by the second. You know this because the alarm is still blaring into the otherwise peaceful morning air.

Just as you’re gathering the strength to sit up and turn the alarm off, Natasha walks in. She looks at her watch and her brow furrows in confusion.

“What are you doing, sleepyhead?” she asks you with a little smirk. There is concern in her eyes, though she masks it well.

You’re both fully aware the alarm has been going off for seven minutes straight now.

“Just tired, love. You know how much work it takes to reach over,” you say in a joking manner, hopeful that you can get past this without worrying her too much.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously for a second before giving in.

“How was your workout?” you ask her sincerely.

As she starts rambling about her morning activities, you feel a sense of shame. You’ve barely managed to wake up in the time it’s taken her to complete a full workout routine. Hell, you couldn’t even find it in you to turn the alarm off.

You finally focus on her rant as it comes to an end. Natasha is looking at you expectantly. Shit. She’s asked you a question.

“Huh?” you grunt.

She chuckles before answering, “I asked if you were ever going to get up and get in the shower, stinky.”

You put on a fake smile but fail to meet her eyes, the shame eating you up. It has been a few days since your last shower, but it’s just so hard to find the strength and energy to get up and stand in one place for more than a minute or two.

If Natasha notices the far away look in your eyes and the grimace on your mouth, she doesn’t say anything.

After one of the quickest and most unproductive showers you’ve ever taken, you find Natasha waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s taken it upon herself to make breakfast for you both.

You kiss her cheek and thank her as you sit down at the table. The warm cup of coffee she sets down in front of you is a godsend. The warmth emitting from the cup helps to diminish the pain in your knuckles, if only slightly. You send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that the caffeine will help with the fatigue today instead of making you sick.

Natasha sits down in the chair next to you with her own plate. She runs her eyes over you in a scrutinizing manner. She wants to think you don’t notice, but you do.

Clearing your throat in hopes to take her focus off you, you ask about her plans for the day.

“Oh, you know, mostly just busy work. I have a ton of paperwork to get through,” she tells you through an exaggerated sigh. “What about you?”

The list of chores screams at you again. “Mostly just some things around the house. Grocery shopping, laundry, boring shit like that.”

Natasha hums around a sip of her coffee. It surprised you just how much cream and sugar she takes in hers. It’s just one of the many unpredictable things about her that made you fall in love.

“Super exciting. I hate to miss out,” she teases you.

You crack a smile to appease her. Inside, though, you realize just how little she understands. These errands seem so simple to her, when to you, they are the most daunting of tasks.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Natasha standing up to take her plate to the sink. She comes back to kiss your cheek and let you know she’s going to go get ready, before walking out of the room.

You suspect the amount of housework you’ll get done today will be minimal, so you decide to at least make Natasha some lunch. Maybe it will lessen the disappointment she feels when she comes home to see everything exactly as it was when she left, you think.

Your plan is halted as you’re making her sandwich. The stupid cover on the peanut butter jar is stuck. You can’t open it for the life of you. The guilt comes in like a tidal wave. You can’t even do something as simple as make lunch for her, your brain supplies for you.

Natasha returns from getting ready to see you standing in the kitchen with a glare on your tired face.

“What’d the peanut butter do to you this time,” she jokes.

“I can’t.” Tears well up in your eyes.

She comes up to wrap you in a hug from behind. She softly asks, “What can’t you do?”

“I can’t open the jar,” you mutter softly, feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, love. Let me help,” she tells you delicately before kissing the spot under your ear. She can tell this is affecting you more than usual and wishes for nothing more than to be able to take away your distress.

You mutter a thank you before continuing to make her sandwich. You pack everything into a bag and write a small note to finish it off. You know Natasha loves the little messages you leave her periodically, and nothing will stop you from trying to make her as happy as you can.

Goodbyes are said as you both wander closer to the door. Natasha makes sure to hold you longer and tighter than usual. You don’t comment on that.

The silence that encompasses the room as soon as the love of your life leaves is suffocating. You can feel the exhaustion from purely getting up and getting ready creeping up on you. Logically, you know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, but the shame is eating you up. Already on a roll, might as well keep on going, you think to yourself.

You go back to your mental to-do list and debate what to start with. The grocery store doesn’t sound terrible. Some sun would do you some good. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen the world that exists outside of your house.

Wandering back to the bedroom to get your phone and shoes, you try to push the fatigue from your mind. In your attempt to block out the tiredness, you fail to recognize the ever-present pain in your joints increasing. It’s only when you sit down and bend over to put your shoes on that you register the feeling. Your hips ache severely; so much so, that you can’t hold your position long enough to get your shoe on your foot.

This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, seeing as you immediately burst into tears. The pain mixed with your inability to do basic, everyday activities completely overwhelms you as you break down.

There’s absolutely no chance that you’re going to complete this task, let alone all the other ones on your list. You let out a sigh as you stand up and shuffle to your room, phone and shoes forgotten in the living room.

You let the weight of your emotions crush you as you climb into bed and under the covers, your wife’s pillow clutched closely to your chest.

Your tears cease to stop, even as you succumb to the sleep you so desperately wished to hold onto this morning.

- - -

Natasha comes home to an eerily silent house. On any typical day, she would come home to the noise of your favorite show or music softly playing, whether it be from a speaker or from your guitar. Your shared house consistently was filled with life and sound. It was one of her favorite parts of her day; coming home to you in your own element, laughing or singing. You are her home.

This newfound silence has her exceptionally worried. Even on your bad days, there was at least a laugh track coming from the TV or the smell of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen. Now, there’s absolutely nothing. For a split second, Natasha thinks that you may never have come back from the grocery. Her heart rate spikes. The sight of your phone on the coffee table and your shoes strewn haphazardly on the floor puts those worries to rest.

“Darling?” she calls from the entryway. There is no response. She carefully removes her boots and coat before moving through every room in the house, calling out for you softly in each.

She makes her way to the bedroom, lightly knocking on the door as she lets herself in. She sees the rise and fall of your chest and is filled with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed.

"Love? Are you awake?"

You grumble out an answer that could be understood as a 'yes'.

Natasha carefully sits down on the side of the bed that you are facing.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she requests softly, in fear of upsetting the quiet environment of the bedroom and making things worse.

The tears that started up again when you wife called out the first time get even heavier somehow.

"Oh love, come here."

She carefully gathers you in her arms and rests your head on her chest.

"Does this have anything to do with the peanut butter jar this morning?"

You nod. One of your favorite things about your wife is her ability to observe and understand what you're going through.

"I just can't do anything today. Everything hurts and I'm so, so tired," you whisper, followed by a heartbreaking sob.

"It's okay love. Please don't cry," Natasha whispers back.

"But it's not! It's not okay!" You sit up from her chest to let out your rant. "You've done so much today and I could barely wake up. You work so hard and I should be able to do stuff around the house so you can come home and not have to worry about anything," you finish with a sigh.

Your wife puts her hand under your chin, forcing you to look in her direction. "Love, look at me. Believe me when I say that I don't care about the state of the laundry or if the pantry has been stocked. All I care about is you. All I want is for you to be okay. It's killing me that you feel like this and I can't do anything to take it away from you. What I can do, though, is tell you just how proud I am of you. You are the strongest person I know, and I work with the Avengers."

You giggled at that. Natasha smiles at your small second of happiness.

"Are you sure? Because I was going to get so much done today and I was trying to-"

Natasha cuts you off with a soft kiss.

"My love. Listen to me. All I care about is your health and happiness. If staying in bed and catching up on sleep is what you needed today, then that's all I expect from you. I never want you to hurt yourself trying to do more than you can. We all have limits. It’s okay to need a break some days. I love you and I am so very, very proud of you."

With a long look into her eyes, all you find is love and adoration directed towards you. There's no disgust or disappointment as you had anticipated.

"I love you too," you utter quietly.

Natasha smiles and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. "What if we got some pain killers and some food in you? We can even put on your favorite movie. Does that sound good?"

You nod. Natasha gets up to get you some medicine and to order some food, while you get your favorite movie loaded on the TV.

Later that night, when both your stomachs are full and your wife is obnoxiously singing along to the songs in the movie just to make you laugh, you realize just how loved you are.

You don't know how tomorrow will treat you, or the day after that. What you do know, however, is that Natasha will always be there to support and love you. Your pain level and ability to function is always an uncertainty, but your wife's love will never be.

- - -

A/N: as always, i try to keep it gender neutral. if you find a mistake, please let me know! feedback is appreciated! to all my chronic illness buddies out there: i love you, you've got this :)

taglist: @007giu

[thran-duils]

Learn Her Place

Title: Learn Her Place Summary:  Fem!Omega!Reader x Alpha!Tony Stark x Alpha!Steve Rogers x Alpha!Bucky Barnes. The reader works for S.H.I.E.L.D. and is on suppressants. In this universe, we obviously are working with multiple Alphas being able to share an Omega. The reader has had sex before but it has been with Betas. She is very distracting to the Alphas and they’re tired of not being able to focus on their work, so they decide to make sure her suppressants no longer work and she is where they think she belongs. Without the suppressants, the reader succumbs to her hormones very quickly. Words: 4,894 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Non-con, ABO dynamics, smut, breeding, brief mention of infidelity, multiple partners, angst. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Author’s Note: Kudos to whoever picks up on the movie line reference

Masterpost

Steve hated it.

Watching her come back from one-night stands with Betas and not feel any remorse about it.

She was an Omega and was granted freedom by the suppressants given to her. She was wasting her fertile cycles away on frivolous orgasms with random strangers. She was able to infiltrate regular society, mainly hide herself away into the crowd. It was not foolproof though.

There was still something there during what her cycle should be. If one did not know she was Omega, they would not attribute the feeling of arousal to her. But he – along with every other high ranking agent – knew she was and it was that much easier to pinpoint it. He could pick up on it and it made him clench his fists every time she was in close proximity, her infiltrating all his senses. He saw the other Alphas in the room tense too at those times, having a difficult time focusing on the mission briefs with her sitting so close. And one of those times was right the hell now. Tony was staring at her abashedly across the table, his fingers at his lips, his jaw clenched. His stare could be excused, he was an intense person. Bucky, next to Steve, chewed on his cheeks while he tried avoiding looking over at her.

It was selfish.

And foolish because the suppressants only did so much, and they acted like it was a solve all. S.H.I.E.L.D was trying so hard to be inclusive and it was only serving to bring down focus and morale when all they wanted to do was mount one of their team members who was acting above her Omega rank.

She had raised her hand and was answering a question. She was smart, there was no doubt about that. She had worked really hard to get up to this level and she continued to go above and beyond.

But…

Steve’s eyes raked down her clavicle to where the top of her breasts were exposed above her shirt. She most certainly had a push up on. His thoughts trailed to what they looked like bare. How they would look at different angles… when she was riding him, below him, from the side… all the different positions he could get her in. His favorite: cradled in his arms, his hand on her round stomach…

He snapped to attention when Wanda literally snapped her fingers in front of his face. He had been spacing out.

“You alright?” she snorted.

“Yeah, fine,” he said rubbing the back of his neck. He gathered up his file and got up from the table without another word, walking towards the door.

He spotted her down the hall, speaking with Thor. Thor was enthralled, looking at whatever she was showing him in her file. He was a huge teddy bear, just like Bruce.

Steve caught sight of Tony and Bucky coming to stand next to him, their eyes fixated on her too down the hallway.

“Anyone else not catch a single thing that was said in that meeting?” Bucky half joked.

“She’s distracting,” Steve snapped in hushed tones. “How do they not notice the affect she has? Has no one said anything?”

“Oh, I’ve already brought it up,” Tony told Steve and Bucky, rolling his eyes. “They’re marking it up to me not being able to ‘control myself’ and shaming me for it.” He added scornfully, “Were you forced to watch that goddamn video—”

“Where they were described as ‘delicate flowers’? Yeah, I did. And was that supposed to make us feel any better about thinking about them being put in harm’s way?” Bucky muttered, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t be putting her out in the field. Here in the office is one thing. But they shouldn’t be putting any position outside. They’re too susceptible to persuasion.”

Tony said, “That’s why it’s supposed to be secret about their Omega status.”

“I don’t like them out there,” Bucky repeated. “Not just for them but for the rest of our safety too.”

Thor was so close to her, laughing at whatever she had said. He was not affected at all. Steve ground his teeth watching that in front of him. She was comfortable around him, her hand coming to rest on his arm. He felt jealously scratching away at his insides, knowing she was in a cycle.

“It’s gonna drive me insane if I don’t leave,” Tony grated, tearing his eyes away from her to focus on the other two. “You going to the party tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Bucky and Steve said in unison, still staring down the hall.

Tony snorted, “Who the hell planned it on a Thursday, anyhow? Don’t get too worked up if she takes a random person home. I for one won’t be there to witness that. That is unless…” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket, holding it up and Bucky swiped it in the blink of an eye, making it disappear again. Tony threw him a wry smile and said, “I think it’s about time. Don’t hesitate too long now since she’s just gone into the cycle. It’ll take a day or two though to work, remember! And don’t let Banner catch you with that.”

He clapped Bucky on the shoulder before turning on his heel, leaving the other two Alphas to stew.

<><><>

Bucky and Steve walked into the loud club, finding everyone in disarray already in the VIP area. They had been on last minute mission and had returned late and the party was already well underway. The upper space of the club was packed of S.H.I.E.L.D agents at all varying stages of intoxication. Some had set up tables to play poker – something normally illegal in clubs but no one was bothering them – as well as varying card games.

Of course both of their attention was drawn in towards Y/N. Clint was laughing at the fact she had walked back from up the stairs with a sandwich shoved halfway in her mouth. “Y/N! The food is on the way! You remember? That we ordered?”

“But I’m hungry now,” she whined, her mouth full. “And Wanda asked for half of it!”

“You’re such a baby,” Clint laughed barely keeping it together.

Wanda was in stitches, her head thrown back against her chair. Vision was laughing in tandem with Wanda, following her movement. She only laughed harder when Y/N held out the untouched part of the sandwich that was supposed to be for her.

“Thank you,” Wanda said, taking deep breaths as she tried to stifle her laughter.

Natasha appeared at Bucky and Steve’s sides, raising her eyebrows. “They are drunk,” Natasha hissed at them over the music.

And she smirked then, an unfamiliar kind of smirk. And Steve cocked his head.

“Are you drunk?”

She shrugged sheepishly which was all the answer they needed.

You grasped onto Steve’s arm, startling him. “Have you guys done shots yet?”

Steve’s eyes flicked down to her hand only for a moment and he could feel every press of her hand into his bicep. He looked back up at her and told her, “I can’t get drunk, Y/N.”

“Oh, right,” she said looking immediately pitying of him. She rubbed his arm excessively in her drunk state and he stiffened, his jaw clicking. “I’m sorry. I forgot!” She laughed, noticing how stiff he was and poked him in the chest. “You need to loosen up, Steve.”

“I’ll try,” he said forcing a smile.

“You too, Bucky,” she commented eyeing his stoic expression. She touched the side of his face and he inhaled sharply. She giggled at the response and said, “Maybe you’ll feel better after a drink? You can get drunk right?”

Before he could respond, her attention was drawn elsewhere by Wanda. As soon as she was gone, Steve let out a frustrated sigh and Bucky mirrored his state.

“She’s not taking care of herself,” Bucky murmured, shaking his head. “Anyone could take her home. Anyone!”

“Yeah, well, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Steve returned firmly. Bucky frowned and Steve rolled his eyes, “You can have some drinks. I’ll just be the sober eyes.”

“Thanks for that leeway, but this has gone on long enough hasn’t it?” Bucky asked.

“It has,” Steve exhaled heavily. Y/N was holding Clint’s hand as they danced their way down the staircase from the VIP section, away from where him and Bucky were standing.

Steve was close to her all night, especially on the dance floor. At one point, he grabbed a female Alpha who had started grinding on Y/N and yanked her away. The other Alpha had started to get buck until she realized who exactly she was trying to fight. He was not a hard man to mistake, not with all the press conferences and his mere presence on top of that. She gritted her teeth before leaving seeing his icy stare, taking the hint. Y/N was oblivious, dancing to the techno music, hands in the air still with Clint and Wanda.

Y/N fanned herself and her hands came to the hem of her shirt. Steve’s eyes almost bugged out of his head as she began to tear it off. Steve was at her side immediately, grabbing the shirt before she could remove it completely, yanking it back down.

She focused in on him, confused, and he demanded inches from her face, “What are you doing?”

“It’s hot,” she yelled at him over the music, as if that was a reasonable explanation for her behavior. He imagined all the eyes on her now, his blood pumping in his ears.

Steve shook his head and grasped her arm, pulling her through the crowd.

“Steve!” he heard Clint call from behind him, but it went ignored.

Bucky knew when Steve walked by with Y/N it was time. He got up, following Steve’s movement away from the VIP section towards a more isolated part of the club. Y/N was asking Steve where he was taking her before Bucky snuck up and administered the shot before Y/N could even react to his presence.

She began to ask, “What the hell…” but her eyes were already drooping.

Steve caught her before her knees gave out from beneath her. She was conscious but she was far past coherent. She groaned in his arms and he picked her up, hushing her.

“Wish I could have gotten even two drinks in before that,” Bucky said, eyes searching the club. He looked towards the hall and said, “Should try to take her out a back way or…?”

“She was reckless,” Steve grumbled in his ear as she slumped into his side. “Let’s take her home. She shouldn’t remember any of this. But no, let’s take her back by so everyone can see how ‘drunk’ she is.”

“Right, good idea,” Bucky agreed.

<><><>

Tony walked in, seeing Y/N at the break room table already, at 7:00am. But, her head was resting on her forearms, a large cup of coffee next to her. He looked over his shoulder, seeing people were walking by in the hallway. Slowly, he closed the door, the handle clicking into place when it was fully closed. She did not stir, and he cocked his head. She must really be out.

He tapped her shoulder and she grumbled, sitting back uncomfortably. She was squinting at him and recognized him, before rubbing at her eyes.

“You alright?” he asked, feigning concern.

“Yeah, just… not feeling great,” she told him.

Hungover. Every clue of it clear as day to everyone else. But Tony was not everyone else. He knew this was not a withdrawal from alcohol but another drug entirely. Her body was correcting itself from that nasty medication, right at the height of her heat.

“You should be drinking water instead of coffee,” Tony told her, his Alpha peaking in his tone.

It was an easy way to worm himself in. He was not supposed to do this – but they had also not been supposed to administer that drug without her consent –, it was against protocol. But he just had to know. He had to see if she would respond.

Simultaneously to his surprise and not, she made eye contact with him. He saw… doe eyes. She quickly averted her gaze and looked at her cup.

“You’re right,” she told him.

Tony watched her with arousal as she got up and tossed the coffee in the sink. She went towards the fridge, but Tony was already there, opening it up to grab a water bottle for her.

“Let me,” he told her, and she stopped, looking at him patiently as he held it out to her.

She took it from him, taking a drink. “Thanks. I… I really don’t feel great.”

Tony pointed at her and said, “You probably need oxygen. And a lot of water.”

“Oxygen?”

“Clears a hangover pretty quickly.”

“Oh, I’m not—” she began to stammer, and he could not help his lip twitching in amusement at her looking embarrassed.

Tony chuckled, “It’s alright. The party was last night. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Y/N looked unsure if she should relax or not for a few moments before she relented, nodding. “Yeah, what idiot decided tequila shots was the way to start off the night?”

“Probably the same idiot who planned it to be on a Thursday.”

“Thirsty Thursday,” she mumbled, taking another drink.

“Thirsty Thursday,” Tony agreed lightly. “Eat something too. Something healthy. Fruit, maybe.” She grumbled in response but nodded as she sat back down at the table. She swiped an apple from the center of the table and took a large bite. Tony watched her for a few more seconds, anticipation nipping at his heels before he parted with, “Feel better.”

He needed to tell Bucky and Steve she should be ready by tonight if she was already reacting to him like that.

<><><>

Y/N was the last one in her office, the other two had gone home already. She looked up at Tony walking into the office, carrying a bag. Her stomach growled at the smell coming from the bag, her eyes falling to it. Tony only stalled for a moment, the smell of her coming to him. She was tumbling fast, she looked flushed.

Tony approached her desk, a friendly glint in his eye. “Ah, you are still here. Here, we ordered some food. I always go for greasy at some point after drinking and I’m sure it’ll help.” She looked past him to where Bucky and Steve were in the hallway.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Y/N told him timidly.

Tony loved the sight: she was tying to avoid direct eye contact, speaking in soft tones.

“Just thought we’d be nice.”

“Thank you.” She would not grab it from him. “Today has been… I don’t know. I can’t focus. I need to finish this before I leave. I just… I don’t feel great,” she said her voice getting smaller as her eyes were dragged back to her computer screen.

Tony ordered, “Press save and close the laptop. Eat.” He placed the bag on her desk. “It’ll help.”

He turned to leave, and she blurted, “Where are you going?”

Tony came to a stop, his gaze locked with Steve and Bucky, his back to her. To them, he gave them a sly, knowing smile that only lasted a few seconds before he turned back to her.

“I mean, you don’t have to leave and go eat somewhere else if you already have your food too. You don’t want it to get cold. I promise I’m not throwing up or anything. I just feel off. Like a headache… a little hot.”

She wanted them to stay, that was obvious. She needed something from them and even if she could not figure out what it was just yet, her body was telling her they were needed.

“Sure,” Tony chirped. “If it won’t bother you.”

She shook her head and he started walking back towards the desk beside hers. His suit jacket came off, and he swung it around the back of the chair. Steve and Bucky had come into the room as well, purposely leaving the door open. Bucky sat across from Y/N, his eyes following her movements as she opened the bag Tony had placed in front of her. He watched the way her hands shook ever so slightly, her tongue running across her bottom lip as she opened the container of food.

Y/N made a satisfied sound as she tasted it. “God, thank you. This is delicious. I needed it. I feel… shaky.”

The three of them around her was making it difficult for her to focus though. She kept stealing glances at them, being met with blatant stares back as they slowly ate. Steve adjusted, trying to hide his length that was starting to grow at her being so damn close and smelling so damn good.

Tony spilled some on the desk and said, “Shit!”

Before she could offer he was leaning over her, reaching across the grab a kleenex from the other side of her desk. He heard her inhale and he forced himself to not react, sitting back down, dabbing at the food he had spilled. His jaw was clenched; he should not have done that because now he was working himself up quickly.

The three of them noticed her chewing slowed to a stop and her eyes moved between the three of them. Something was starting to click… the tense silence in the room getting under her skin. The off feeling no doubt growing ever stronger.

Swallowing, she cleared her throat. Her voice was higher pitched than normal, “Do you guys want a cookie? To go with it for after, I mean? I… there’s some over here.”

She pushed her chair back quickly and moved away from her desk. Along the wall, she fumbled with the drawers, looking for these mysterious cookies. She was getting squirrelly, nervous, like she wanted some air. They could all sense it and they wanted to get ahead of her stressing out while they could. All three were out of their seats: Bucky strode across the room away from her, closing the door while Tony and Steve came closer towards her.

Y/N turned around startled at them all having moved so quickly, holding a handful of fortune cookies. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, staring directly back at her. She gave a small laugh, “Are people still working out there? Were we being too loud, do you think?”

Tony and Steve said nothing and her smile faltered, a frown growing. “Can…Can I just… get by,” she said trying to skirt around them but each time, one of them blocked her way. She tried to brush it off, holding the cookie out. “Do you just want it now?”

She asked, so innocently. Sweetly. Steve shuddered at it. She could not hide her true nature even in her tone. And the phrasing, the three of them smirked.

Bucky was still by the door, leaning against the frame. He popped a chocolate in his mouth, watching the scene unfold.

“Well, I would really like to get eat—” She said, trying again to break through their rank and being unsuccessful. She frowned visibly now, worry lines showing up on her face. She chuckled nervously, “Did I do something wrong?”

Steve noticed the spiral coming. He could hear the increase in her heartrate. She knew she was surrounded by Alphas and was growing uncomfortable. Especially since she was alone, it was late, and they were encroaching. His hand came up to slap over her mouth and she yelled frightened, the sound muffled. He pulled her away from the counter, dragging her back towards the third desk. Tony was ready, grabbing her arms and twisting them behind her back, slipping the retractable cuffs around her wrists. The cookies tumbled to the floor and he paid them no mind, stepping on them as he passed her to Steve solely. Her arms were bound at the small of her back and she fell face first against the table. All three of them were growing hard at the sight.

As soon as Steve removed his hand she began to scream, and he clamped back down.

“Omega,” Steve purred in her ear and she whimpered behind his hand. He laced his tone, his Alpha rumbling, “You’re going to be quiet aren’t you?” She said nothing, her chest just rapidly moving up and down. “Omega… are you gonna be quiet? Nod for me if you are gonna be good.” She nodded frantically against his hand and he slowly removed it.

Tearfully, she said, “Can you let me go?”

“Oh, no. No, we can’t, beautiful,” Steve said, his finger running down her exposed neck, causing her to squirm. He pulled away, turning his attention to Tony.

“But… I… I didn’t do anything wrong,” she tried to plead, looking at Bucky across the desk to where he was standing at the door. “I followed all the rules. I—” Tony’s hands lifted up underneath her dress and she let out a choked noise, craning her neck to look back at him. “Alpha, please!”

Tony audibly groaned at her slipping up and giving in to calling him by his title. He yanked her leggings and underwear down to her ankles. He freed himself from his slacks and his fingers pressed at her pussy. She buried her face in the desk, trying to squeeze her legs together.

“Oh, come now. None of that,” Tony ordered, and she loosened. His fingers pressed in, stroking her slowly. She was already wet, probably had been for the better part of the day. It is why the three of them had stayed away, they could have lost control before now and ruined it all otherwise.

“You’re not being punished, Omega,” he told her. “Rewarded actually…” She whimpered and he cooed as he continued stroking her gently, “Oh, sweetpea… beautiful Omega. You’re going to be just fine. You’re in the perfect hands. You feel sick for a reason and we are going to help you.”

The more he spoke, the more he watched her body relax against his hand and his tone. The smell of her was driving him insane – he could only imagine Steve and Bucky not being able to touch her at all. He should not stall for long, wouldn’t want to start a fight.

“You’re going to feel so much better,” Tony promised as she tried to push back on his fingers, and he bit his lip at the sight. His fingers were gone, and she let out a disappointed noise. Tony rubbed his cock up and down her ass, slowly. “God, this is gonna feel so fucking good.”

Tony’s head pressed in and she gasped, adjusting to his width. He gave a strangled laugh, relishing in how tight her walls were. She was squirming beneath him and he gave her a rapt smack on the ass.

“I know you haven’t had an Alpha cock before but relax, Omega,” Tony ordered gruffly.

“It’s too much,” she said pitifully.

“You’ll adjust. You’ll adjust,” Tony moaned, pressing in further. “You’ll be able to take all of me. All of us. It’s what you were built for.”

Bucky was becoming shifty, chewing on his thumb nail, his eyes boring into Y/N. He had stepped away from the door, coming closer to where she was. His dick was outlined in his jeans but he had refrained from releasing himself just yet. Steve on the other hand had taken his cock out and was stroking himself, needing some type of contact. Both of their eyes were blown wide.

“Oh. Tony,” Bucky said, aroused. “You would love this sight.”

Y/N’s eyes were glazed over as Tony thrusts grew deeper and quicker. Looking the perfect example of a subservient Omega, impaled on an Alpha’s cock.

“I love the feeling,” Tony choked back, holding tight to her wrists to drive himself deeper.

Soon, they came tumbling down. Tony came with loud grunts, emptying inside of her and he left a claim mark on her shoulder. Tony only took a moment to kiss at her neck, whispering something sweet into her ear before he backed off. His pants were buttoned back up and he collapsed in one of the chairs, his eyes falling on her.

Steve wasted no time coming behind her and entering her with ease. She whimpered at the intrusion, still so sensitive. His thrusts were unbridled, worked up into a frenzy. Y/N’s hips bounced off the desk.

“Alpha,” she whined.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Steve panted, his fingers digging into the skin at her hips. “You feel so goddamn good, Omega. You’re doing so well. So, so well. Everything I dreamed.”

The room was filled with skin slapping skin and the aroused moans leaving Y/N.

“Alpha,” she whined again, and Steve groaned, knowing she was getting close. He could feel her clenching around him.

And when she did, shaking and whimpering, Steve thrusted quickly as she tightened. He finished with a shout unable to help himself, coating her walls. He left another distinct claim bite at the base of her neck. His fingers traced it gently before he noticed Bucky standing there.

“You know, for an Alpha. Buck, you sure as hell are patient,” Steve joked.

Bucky gave a curt smirk before shoving Steve out of the way. Steve held his hands up in surrender, turning away and letting Bucky have his way with her. Y/N was doing so well still, behaving and letting Bucky rut her into the desk without pushback. Bucky had been right, Tony thought to himself. He loved that look in her eyes. She was lost to her arousal.

“P-p-please, alpha,” she begged moments before she cried out again.

Bucky grunted loudly, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his high. He shook as he emptied himself and went to the opposite shoulder to leave another claim mark. She was exhausted, breathing heavily having not one but three Alphas imprinting themselves on her and using her.

The door opened and all three of them froze, Bucky still buried in Y/N, his large hands at her hips.

Clint was standing there, his mouth fallen open in disbelief at the scene. There were a few seconds of suspended shock before he asked them disgusted, “You couldn’t even lock it?”

“Didn’t think about it,” Tony admitted.

“You? You didn’t think? That’s rich,” Clint spat back at him. He noticed Y/N was handcuffed and realization dawned on him. He glared daggers at the three of them and snapped, “You’re going to get sidelined for this!”

“No, I don’t think so. More like chewed out… I’ve been chewed out before,” Steve said. Impatiently he added, “Now, will you close the damn door?”

His request went ignored by Clint, who pressed on furiously, “No, seriously. You guys know that right? Compromising an agent like this! Especially one they’re trying to keep up because they’re in such big demand to even out the ranks! She’s only going to respond to your Alpha commands now! That compromises her!”

“And why is anyone complaining about that? She should be answering to her superiors,” Tony remarked, watching her intently. She was so lost, trying to figure out what was going on. She had no purpose without feeling a cock being driven into her when she was this worked up into her heat. Tony almost felt bad for her…

“Barton, are you going to let Barnes pull out so we can untie her or what? She’s got to be getting sore by now. Wouldn’t want to hurt our ‘delicate flower’.” Clint stood his ground and Tony lost his humor, snapping, “Get the fuck out, Barton. It’s already been done. Now. Before I lose my goddamn temper.”

Clint’s jaw was clenched as he turned away from the three Alphas, slamming the door behind him so loudly it shook the wall.

“Speaking of that,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. He leaned in, catching her attention. “Darling… do you want Alpha to finish inside you?” She nodded fervently and Bucky grunted in response, rutting against her backside even as he pulled away from her. He pulled her up and she stood on shaky legs. In her ear, he asked, “Do you want to always be finished inside of?” She nodded again, biting her bottom lip. “Hmm… you want to please us? That’s what I thought. So. How about after you take in that feeling of that warm seed inside you, you go up to the director and tell her you want to resign? Tell her you wanna be a good little housewife for us? How does that sound?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Steve’s fingers pressed her cheeks in, pressing her lips out and he smiled. “You wanna be an asset to the team in your best way. Such a team player.” He shot Tony a look at the end of the desk, an aroused gleam in his eye. “I’m sure we can get you a proper collar.”

“I’ve already got it built. I’ve been waiting for her to learn her place.” Tony then added, “But she can’t live with me. Pepper will kill me.”

“I’ve got it,” Steve said.

Steve rubbed her stomach and said, “Regardless, she’s gonna be serving her real purpose soon.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 

[robininthelabyrinth]

LXC is the legal guardian and adopter for LSZ or LJY, and NMJ has questions.

part 2 of the LJY-adopted-by-LQR fic (now also on ao3)

-

“So, did I knock you up before I went to war or something?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Because I feel like you should’ve mentioned it if that was the case. Possibly in a letter.”

Lan Xichen was so tired that it took him a solid minute to parse what was wrong with that sentence and how to respond, and it was not by following his first instinct to apologize that he should’ve written better letters.

“Stop making fun of me,” he said instead, groping towards some measure of dignity.

Sadly, dignity was in very short supply when you were taking care of babies. Multiple babies. Well, one baby and one toddler, which was somehow worse?

Lan Xichen was pretty sure they’d figured out how to time their crying off each other.

“I would never,” Nie Mingjue said, like a liar, and then he picked up little Jingyi and – Lan Xichen simply cannot find another way to put it – shook him, in a manner not unlike testing a melon for freshness.

For some reason, this made Lan Jingyi stop crying and start making snuffling little giggles instead.

“How did you do that?” Lan Xichen asked, eyes wide.

“Do what?” Nie Mingjue tucked the baby into the crook of his arm and scooped up some food off the table, offering it to him, and Lan Jingy actually ate it. “Xichen, are you feeling all right?”

“Shhh!” Lan Xichen hissed, eyes fixed on the baby, which was neither spitting up everything nor wailing as if his heart was broken. “No unnecessary noise during meals.”

Nie Mingjue snorted in amusement. “Sure,” he said amiably, in the tone Lan Xichen had long ago learned meant ‘nice rules you’ve got there, it’d be an awful shame if someone found a loophole in them’. “This isn’t a meal, though; it’s just a snack.”

Lan Xichen eyed the still-not-crying Lan Jingyi and decided that now was not the time for a spirited debate on the virtues of discipline and fulfilling the merits rather than the word of a rule.

“Where’s monster number one gone?” Nie Mingjue asked abruptly. “He must be very good at hiding, because I looked away for a blink of an eye and he was gone.”

Lan Xichen’s eyes slowly dropped down to where a cloth-covered lump was not-so-sneakily edging towards Nie Mingjue’s foot.

Nie Mingjue was one of the foremost front line fighters of their generation, and possibly the previous one as well. His physical ability was matched only by his incredibly keen senses.

There was no way he was not aware of the lump.

“It’s a real shame, too,” Nie Mingjue continued. “I was planning on doing a test of how far you can throw children, but I think monster two here’s a bit too small to make the test worthwhile. But I guess it just wasn’t meant to be –”

You can’t throw children, Lan Xichen was about to say, except Lan Sizhui was tearing off the tablecloth and jumping up in excitement, shouting, “Here! Here! I’m here! I’m big enough! You can throw me!”

“Why does he want to be thrown,” Lan Xichen murmured, bewildered. He’d never wanted to be thrown around as a child. Had he?

In fairness, he wasn’t sure. No one had ever offered.

Apparently, though, Lan Sizhui did very much want to be thrown around, and Lan Jingyi even condescended to allow Lan Xichen to hold him while he watched.

“Higher! Higher!” Lan Sizhui shouted.

“Really? Is this high enough?” Nie Mingjue held him up at eye level.

“Higher!”

“Like this?” Above his head.

“Higher!”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

“All right. How about –” Baxia slithered out from her place by the door, zipping over until she was right in front of Nie Mingjue, allowing him to step onto her like a stair, and then zipping upwards to about hip-height, lifting Nie Mingjue and Lan Sizhui with her. They very nearly hit a tree branch with their heads. “– this?”

Lan Sizhui shrieked with laughter.  

“It’s too early to introduce them to flying,” Lan Xichen objected, because it was. “Mingjue-xiong…”

Nie Mingjue hopped down with a laugh. “All right, one last toss,” he told Lan Sizhui. “Then you nap. Okay?”

“Okay!” Lan Sizhui, who had never once willingly succumbed to naptime in the entirety of the time that Lan Xichen had known him, promised earnestly.

Back into the pile of soft grass he went, giggling the entire time, and amazingly enough he really did fall asleep afterwards. Lan Jingyi, too, had fallen asleep at some point.

“I’ve decided that your brother needs more experience running a sect,” Lan Xichen told Nie Mingjue, who raised his eyebrows. “Starting immediately. I promise to allow you to leave when Jingyi is, oh, shall we say five years old..?”

You could reason with a five year old. 

Nie Mingjue laughed.

It was a type of laugh that suggested that he thought Lan Xichen was making a joke. This was incorrect.

“You’d be amazed at how serious I am,” Lan Xichen told him threateningly, “I’m sect leader here, this is my territory, I can have you arrested any time –” but by that point Nie Mingjue was already bundling him off to bed, too, combing out his hair and plying him with snacks and –

This was not helping his argument that Lan Xichen should be allowing him to leave rather than keep him trapped in the Cloud Recesses as a babysitter-slash-love-slave. 

Well, he wouldn’t really do that, of course. He’d let him go. Eventually.

It’d probably be good for Nie Mingjue’s stress levels, honestly.

“Seriously, though, how did you do that?” he asked, his head on Nie Mingjue’s lap. “They didn’t cry once.”

“I’m good with kids,” Nie Mingjue said, his fingers digging into Lan Xichen’s scalp in just the right way. “Now can you explain to me how exactly you ended up with them? Two, no less?”

Lan Xichen groaned and covered his eyes with a hand. “Sizhui’s Wangji’s,” he explained. “Not biologically, but he’s put his name down in the family register under his own. But, you know…”

“I know.”

Lan Xichen appreciated that he didn’t need to go into it. The doctors had estimated that Lan Wangji would regain full mobility within three years, so that was the period the elders had mandated for his so-called ‘seclusion’, but with Lan Wangji being locked away like that – even with visitors, even though he was trying his hardest to care for the child from where he was – meant that someone had to care for the child’s day-to-day life until his brother was ready to resume the role.

“Jingyi is a cousin, I think,” he continued. “His parents are dead, and uncle accepted guardianship for him…I think he’s going to adopt him, actually.”

“Then why is he with you?”

“I volunteered.”

“Xichen, I say this with a full heart of affection and tremendous respect for your capabilities,” Nie Mingjue said. “But why in the world would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

Lan Xichen sighed. The worst part was, he couldn’t even argue that it wasn’t stupid – he was, quite obviously, terrible with children.

“Uncle’s still injured from the war,” he admitted. In fact, his injury was probably even older than the war, dating as far back as the burning of the Cloud Recesses – his uncle had never been much of a fighter, his impressive cultivation strength stemming almost entirely from gentler arts like music and learning and meditation, but when his home and his family and his students were at risk, he’d fought, while Lan Xichen ran. Not just fought; he’d kept fighting long past the point that his body allowed. It only made sense for the bill to need to be paid. “He had a recurrence of an old complaint, not long ago; he started coughing up blood. The doctors insisted that he try to avoid anything that might cause him  stress.”

“Stress. Like, say, a rowdy infant?”

“Exactly like a rowdy infant,” Lan Xichen agreed, glad that Nie Mingjue did not mention that what had happened with Lan Wangji was also likely a source of stress. At least the two of them had slowly started to repair their relationship recently – the heartbreak would kill their uncle sooner than anything else, and Lan Xichen might be weak, but he really couldn’t tolerate the idea of suffering any more loss.

And also, if Lan Wangji could see his way to forgiving their uncle, he might one day agree to forgive Lan Xichen, too.

“I see. So you ended up with the little one, too.”

“Yes. And they hate me.” Nie Mingjue coughed a little. “No, don’t deny it. They clearly hate me. They always cry and spit and yell -”

“They’re children, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said. “Traumatized children. They do that.”

Lan Xichen didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Nie Mingjue was frowning in memory of pain long past. Lan Xichen remembered, with painful clarity, how young Nie Huaisang had been when Lao Nie had died, how badly he had taken it.

There’d been a lot of crying and vomiting and yelling there as well.

“You’re good with kids,” Lan Xichen said instead of commenting, trading delicacy for delicacy; he would not touch Nie Mingjue’s still-bleeding wounds just as Nie Mingjue avoided his own. “Very good.”

“Well, I like to think so, anyway.”

They remained in blissful, comfortable silence for a while.

“How would it have even worked?” Lan Xichen finally asked. His eyes were still closed, Nie Mingjue’s fingers running through his hair; he never wanted to move again.

“Hmm?”

“If you knocked me up before you went to war. I mean, they’re not even the same age.”

“Well, one of them’s from the affair, obviously.”

“I’m sorry, am I cheating on you now?” Lan Xichen opened an eye and pinned Nie Mingjue with a fierce look that instructed his lover to reconsider.

“Of course not,” Nie Mingjue said, mock-solemnly. His eyes were dancing. “You were so distraught after receiving incorrect news of my untimely demise that you conducted a ghost marriage with my spirit, and then went and had a child to continue my name.”

“…they’re both surnamed Lan.”

“So what? Are you saying I’m not good enough to marry into your sect, is that it?”

Lan Xichen’s cheeks were hurting from trying not to laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of implying such a thing.”

“There you go, then.”

“Can I ask why I felt the need to have a child to continue your name if I had one already?”

“…well, fuck,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’ve got nothing.”

Lan Xichen burst out laughing.

[alengmae]

Every Story Is Us (CH 5)

(AN: I was convinced by Jess to post this here. IDK why Jess but you work in mysterious ways. To read this in AO3 and my other drabbles, visit here.)

“What you seek is seeking you.”

~Rumi

Penelope choked on her the tiny sip of wine she took. She started coughing but her date carried on like nothing was amiss.

“Yeah, you remind me so much of her. You should meet Mother. I just know she will love you,” he gushed further. He gave her an expectant grin.

She gaped at him in astonishment. They literally just sat down not fifteen minutes ago, yet he was already talking about her meeting his mother on their first date. She knew it was a bad idea to trust Eloise and Fran’s idea. Tinder dates were really not her style. And, based on her first date, she felt vindicated.

She was about to set the record straight when the server came to their table and took their order. She opened her mouth to speak but her date was a lot faster.

“She’ll have the Steak Diane. You don’t mind me ordering for you, right?” he asked as he turned to her.

Penelope was too dumbfounded to respond. He was hitting all her red flags and he was completely oblivious to her irritation, which was awfully apparent since the server’s professional smile turned into a wince. She only raised her glass of wine to the server, who understood immediately her need for more booze. If the server were considerate, she would bring an entire bottle for her.

“Oh and separate bill,” he added before explaining to her with a hint of condescension, “I like to go Dutch on the first date. You don’t mind, do you? Of course you don’t!”

Honestly, she didn’t mind at all. If anything, she would have insisted on it. She felt that he was the type to lord it over after dinner, expecting for something in return. But the way he went on another tangent about his mother, she just knew she was not going to last the appetizer course.

She cursed Eloise and Fran heavily in her head. They insisted she try out the app and look where it got her. She should have followed Daphne’s instructions, to never get caught up in her younger sisters’ shenanigans. As she listened to her date drone on and on, one thing became clear in her mind. She needed new friends.

Nay, better friends.

She just moved from Ireland to London for work. And she met Eloise, a fellow teacher, not too long ago and they clicked immediately. Soon, she was invited to all their brunches and dinners. She fell in love with her family instantly, all eight of them. Although, there was a Bridgerton brother she has not met yet. Seemingly, that Bridgerton was off traveling the world and was on a lengthy tour this time around. And, if he was anything like his siblings, she knew she would come to love him too. But, right now, that love she felt for all things Bridgerton started to wane. She said she didn’t want a date but no, Eloise and Fran had to drag her kicking and screaming into one.

She was pulled out of her reverie when her date grasped her hand. He gently caressed her with his clammy hand and she nearly shivered from disgust because why was his hand so wet?

“I just knew as soon as I saw your picture you’d be the one. Even mother said you’d be a good wife with your wide-set hips,” he beamed at her.

“Oh my god,” she gasped out loud. She tugged her hand back and excused herself to the restroom. She needed to get out of this date. Never in her life had she felt so uncomfortable. She frantically dialed Eloise to come save her but there was no reception at all. Her annoyance reached an all-time high. Was there a fucking signal blocker installed in this facility? She lingered outside the restroom, hidden by the stately plants decorating the restaurant, and repeatedly scrolled through her phone for a miracle. She was close to screaming in frustration.

It was then she felt a finger lightly poke her back. She swiveled around and saw the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. He was exactly her type: tall, dark and handsome. He was incredibly fit, and wearing clothes that highlighted his muscular body. He had on a sympathetic smile and lips that were begging to be kissed. Well, hello there. Maybe his attractiveness short-circuited her brain because she just stood there gaping at him like an idiot.

“Sorry,” he modestly started, “I couldn’t help but notice. Are you alright?”

Penelope nodded, heat spreading on her cheeks. She must have looked like a mad woman, pacing to and fro in front of the restroom. She smiled weakly at him.

“Are you sure?” He glanced in the direction of her date and she grimaced. Her date was openly picking his nose in public at the moment. Penelope had to close her eyes in an effort not to shudder in repugnance. “Anne told me you might need saving.”

She perked up at the name of her server. She might have found her salvation after all. “I…actually, I might,” she bashfully admitted. “I need rescuing from my date. It’s a Tinder date.” She felt the need to explain why. Obviously, this handsome man in front of her probably think she was crazy for going on this date in the first place. And, just in case he might be interested, she wanted to make herself appear saner.

“No worries. I’m your guy,” he reassured her. When he grinned at her, she swore it went straight between her legs. The pull of her attraction to him was insanely intense. She had never felt anything like this before with other men.

“Colin, by the way,” he held out his hand, which she met coyly. “Penelope.”

She marveled at how long his fingers were compared to hers, how rough his skin was against hers and how dry his hands was compared to her date. Her mind started to wander to more wanton thoughts as he shook her hand. His fingers should be illegal, she mused. When he let go, she already mourned the loss of contact.

“Alright, Penelope. I’ll be your knight in shining armor tonight,” he stated excitedly.

Ugh, and he’s charming too? How the hell was he real?

He urged her back to her date without a game plan, only a wink. She got too pre-occupied with said wink to even ask about how he planned on rescuing her. She reluctantly sat down across her date again.

“You sure took your time there,” her date stated said evenly. “I hate waiting. Be more prudent next time.”

She almost threw the basket of breadsticks to his face. Colin better come right away or else, she will stab the man in front of her in the eye with a breadstick. Before she could openly berate him, Colin marched to their table purposefully. He stopped with a loud dramatic gasp.

“Penelope, how could you?” he bellowed scandalously. “After ten years of marriage, this is what you’re doing?”

“What the fuck…” she mumbled in shock at his theatrical display. Her date appeared to be equally confused at the scene in front of them.

“And you left Colin Jr at home by himself to meet up with this man?” Colin continued his melodrama without pausing. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“Wait, you have a kid?” her date’s furious question jerked her from her bewilderment.

“I-“

“I thought you were a virgin!” he cut her off, for the nth time this night.

“That’s where you draw the line? Me not being a virgin?” her incredulous voice was shrill in affront.

Even Colin stopped with his dramatics with a revolted, “Dude.”

Thankfully, this was the moment her date decided to storm out. “Mother was right, after all. Never trust anyone from the internet,” he spat at her before he left.

Penelope hissed back, “It goes both ways!” She clutched her wine glass and chugged the contents in one go.

Colin took her date’s seat and stared at her, eyes twinkling in amusement.

She glared at him. “And you, Colin Jr really?” she asked with a huff.

“I got carried away. You should have seen your face!” He laughed out loud. But she had a sneaking suspicion that he planned it all from the start. She supposed, once that her outrage had passed, it was hilarious. She started giggling with him.

He was about to stand when the food came out, along with a bottle of wine. Penelope stopped him from leaving. “It’s a shame to waste all these food I’d end up paying for. And really want to thank you for saving me from that horrible date.”

He appeared hesitate so she added further, “After ten years of marriage, this is the least I could do.”

He laughed out loud again. It definitely was her libido acting up because she felt herself swoon slightly to his baritone laughter. She found herself wondering if he had a Tinder account. He gestured for her to pick which plate was hers. She gratefully took her previous date’s salmon dish and pushed the steak towards him. They ate, happily chatting about everything under the sun. He regaled her with stories of his vast travels, one story similarly exciting as the next. She offered her childhood tales from her Irish motherland. He started talking about his work, and how he just came back from Morocco after missing his boisterous family. And she started opening up about her insecurity of being in an unfamiliar country all by herself. He held her hand in consolation as she admitted succumbing to homesickness sometimes. He comforted her by recounting comical anecdotes from his travels.

If she was awestruck by his good-looks, she was even more enamored by his wit and sense of humor. He made her laugh so hard but he also made her think. There was nothing sexier than a sharp intellect. He was becoming more dangerous to her as more times passed.

They stayed together until it was closing time. And she barely noticed the passage of time. It wasn’t until Anne cleared her throat in front of them that they noted that they were the only patrons in the restaurant left. She awkwardly asked for the cheque but Colin stopped her.

“This one’s on me, Anne.”

Their server nodded and bid them a good night before leaving.

“What? Wait, Anne!” She tried stopping her but her pleas fell on deaf ears. “I was supposed to treat you,” she grumbled lightly to Colin.

He shrugged. “How can I ask the mother of my child, Colin Jr, to pay for our date?”

She paused, blushing profusely. “Even if she dared to date someone else tonight?” she teased playfully.

He leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “Even when she tried to date someone else tonight. And might I add, she looks absolutely lovely tonight.”

Smooth like fucking butter. Her face must be red as a tomato right now, she reckoned. “Well, Colin Jr’s dad is not bad looking either.”

He beamed at her. She wanted to look away because he was too beautiful, it’s just not right. But he gently grasped her hand and asked softly, “Can I have your number? I really liked our time together and I really like you.”

“I like you too,” she replied, breathless.

He started leaning towards her, eyes locked on her lips. She did the same, magnetically slanting her body closer to his. Just when they were a fraction of an inch away, the kitchen door busted open with Anne bustling out.

“Boss, do you want-oops! My bad!” She retreated as fast as she came.

Damn it, Anne! Her scowl must have been a sight since he started chortling. He kissed the back of her hand reverently after to assuage her.

“Wait, she said boss?”

It was his turn to be sheepish. “I own this place.”

She blinked. That explained his intervention. “I clearly chose the wrong place to cheat on Colin Jr’s father.”

“I don’t know. I thought you were at the perfect place and time. I think I’m plenty lucky tonight,” he said sincerely.

She didn’t think she should voice out that if he kept on being sweet like that, he will get even luckier tonight. She only replied, “I’m glad.”

She exchanged numbers with him eagerly before bidding him a good night. But before she could step out from the restaurant, he gathered her in his arms and crashed his lips against hers. And it was magic and satisfaction and bliss and release all rolled into one. She clung to him, desperate against the tide of overwhelming emotions. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she was completely swept away. It felt as if she would come undone with just a flick of his tongue. When they broke apart, they were gasping for air and sporting giddy grins.

“Good night, Colin,” she called out sweetly.

“Good night, Penelope.”

She didn’t sleep at all that night. The butterflies in her stomach were too flighty. And her excitement could not be abated, even as she knew she was attending a Bridgerton brunch the next day. She was groggy when she came in but a smile could not seem to leave her face.

Eloise pulled her aside to interrogate her about her Tinder date last night but the flurry of excitement filled the room. Everyone was enthusiastic for some reason. “The long lost Bridgerton is finally coming home. The prodigal son has returned,” Eloise said wryly. But Penelope detected her friend’s delight beneath all the sarcasm.

“Oh, that’s good,” she could not help but mirror her friend’s pleasant demeanor. She was already riding the high from last night. Another cause for celebration was just the cherry on top.

“Yeah, apparently he came back yesterday from Morocco in secret so he could surprise us. But Hyacinth still can’t keep her trap shut, ruining the surprise.”

“Morocco?”

It was then that she heard a familiar voice bellow out his greetings. She whipped her head fast and her eyes met his across the room. It was cliché but she would swear to anyone who would listen that at that moment, time slowed down. When their eyes met, it felt like nothing else mattered. And her heart leapt in anticipation as he crossed the sea of people to meet her.

“Penelope?”

“Colin.”

“You two know each other?” Eloise asked, awed.

She smiled brightly, eyes locked onto Colin. “Of course! We’ve been married, what…ten years now?”

He snickered harder upon seeing everyone’s bewildered faces. “Colin Jr missed you last night.”

Eloise interrupted again, “Is he talking about his dick?”

Penelope chose to ignore her friend now that Colin intertwined his hand with hers. “Did he now? I should go visit him some time.”

“I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic with your visit.”

“So how does tonight sound?” she asked, playful in her inquiry but nervous with his answer.

He kissed the back of her hand sweetly. “Perfect. I know a place. They serve the best Steak Diane.”

She laughed.

[junosartsthetic]

for the yandere writing prompts: i for dabi?

“Irresistible. I just love it when you look at me like that.”

This went on for a lot longer than I originally planned. But it's fine.

__

Fear. That’s all your mind screamed as you limped down the narrow alleyway. You could no longer feel your right foot, the scorned appendage now dead weight as you pressed onwards.

Your quirk was no match for his, and you went in over your head. Now, you were paying the price for your overconfidence. The world spun around you as you pressed your aching palms against the wall. Your one good leg gave out, leaving you to slide down the bricks and onto the cold concrete.

With heaving breaths, you looked towards your burned foot. You tore your gaze away, gagging. You could smell the burning flesh, watching as the skin bubbled and popped even after the initial flames lapped away at your ankle.

You grit your teeth, putting your hands out to crawl forwards. You weren’t safe here. You needed backup. He would find you. Your wounds bled steadily, leaving a noticeable trail for him to follow.

“I know you’re down here!” he drawled, sending a chill through your body. You bit your lip to stop from crying. Was this the end for you?

You could hear his footsteps as he ambled behind you. “I’m getting warmer!”

You crawled faster, forcing yourself onwards.

The steps stopped, and you knew you’d been spotted.

“I appreciate your grit, hero, but you’re not leaving this alleyway.”

You hesitantly looked behind you, seeing only his fiery blue silhouette. You gulped. “I’ve already called for back-up!” you coughed out.

His laugh echoed down the alley. You could make out a rectangular device pulled from his pocket. “Liar!”

You ground your fist into the ground. “Shit.”

The steps began again, and you summoned all the strength you had left to stand, leaning against the wall as you limped forwards.

Within moments, a hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you against the wall. Your eyes met blazing blue, and you began to cry softly.

“No. No. I can’t die like this.”

Your tears evaporated as his free hand began to dance with flames. “You’re kinda pretty in the light, hero. I almost feel bad killing ya.”

Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the wrist of the arm holding your neck, squeezing it tightly. “No. I refuse to die like this.” Your adrenaline quickly turned your sadness into anger.

With a burst of strength you didn’t know you possessed, you ripped his hand from your neck, pulling it behind him as you pushed him to the ground, digging your knee into his back. You bent his arm at an angle that would break it if you pushed any harder. “Surrender, Dabi.”

He chuckled. “I’m flattered you’ve heard of me.”

He easily threw you off, standing up and tackling you to the floor. Your torso was trapped between his knees, and your hands were pinned to the ground.

You struggled angrily.

He moved your hands above your head, pinning them there with one hand as his other gripped your chin. “Quit struggling. I’d like to get a clear view of the fear in your eyes.”

You refused to show him such luxury, brows curling as you spat on him. “You’re nothing but a coward who likes to feel in control.”

He quirked a brow, caressing your cheek. “And you’re nothing but a weak little hero who tried to save the day.”

The urge to use your quirk burned inside of you, but you knew you’d black out in a second if you tried. Your vision was fading already.

You spat out one last retort before succumbing to sleep. “You’ll never win, Dabi. The heroes will always. . . defeat you.”

When you awoke, you expected to be greeted with shiny gates and a bearded messiah. Sadly, this was not the case.

The ropes which held your arms to the back of the chair dug into your wrists, and the metal chair made your spine ache. You were in a dimly lit room, and as you awoke fully you noticed it was a run-down hotel lobby. Weird place for a villain hideout. You supposed they had to move after their first place was discovered.

“When you said you caught a pro-hero, Dabi, I expected All Might. Who is this?” the grey-haired man known as Shigaraki growled, his finger pointing at you.

Dabi, who leaned against the wall coolly, shrugged. “I’m sure she’d be more than willing to introduce herself.”

You noticed the girl with space buns smile eerily. “I think she’s cute! It’s a shame I can’t cut her yet! We could be such good friends!”

Shigaraki stepped toward you. “Speak or die.”

Your eye twitched. “I’m pro-hero (hero name).”

He shook his head. “Your real name.”

“We’re not friends. You don’t need to know.”

His hand suddenly hovered inches from your face. “Answer me, hero.”

“(Y/N). It’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Dabi, she’s of no use to us. Kill her.” He stepped away from you dismissively.

“Don’t be a moron, Shigaraki,” Dabi retorted. “Imagine the bargaining power. Heroes always save their own no matter the cost.”

“Fine, but she’s your responsibility. Do what you want with her.”

With that, you were promptly knocked out again.

You didn’t awake again until a few days later, and immediately noticed you were free of restraints. You laid upon a hotel bed, your foot wrapped up messily in gauze.

You sat up, noticing nobody in the room.

You acted instantly, rushing towards the door with newfound vigor. You were met with Dabi, his hands already producing his blue flames.

“Don’t do something rash, (Y/N). You’re not getting out of here in one piece.”

“What are your plans with me,” you demanded, still in a fighting position.

“Shigaraki wants you dead, but I wanna keep you around. The league gets boring, and I want something to keep me busy. Simple as that,” he answered plainly.

“I’m not your plaything, nor do I plan to go down without a fight.”

“Oh, you will,” he replied, pulling a photo from his pocket. You recognized it instantly. Your family. “Unless you want to take your whole family down with you.”

You shuddered. “You’re sick.”

“I’m a villain, doll. What’d you expect?”

“Don’t call me doll, Dabi.”

He wiggled the photograph in front of you. “You might wanna rephrase that.”

With much force, you limped back towards the bed, sitting down. You clenched your fists. Why did you tell them your real name so easily? Idiot. Escape now seemed impossible.

“D’aww, don’t look so down, doll. I promise I’m not that bad once you get to know me!”

He sat down next to you. You cringed away.

This was the beginning of your life as a prisoner.

Weeks passed until you even spoke to Dabi again, though he was the only one entering and exiting your room. He’d bring you food and water, even providing you with soaps to use in the shower. You didn’t know what his plan was surrounding you, but you refused to simply go limp and give up.

“Dabi,” you spoke one day, causing the aforementioned man to look up from his seat on the chair. He had been on his phone, as he usually did whenever he’d sit there for hours on end.

He smirked as he met your eye. “Yes, doll?”

“Where are we right now?”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t think I’d actually tell you that, right?”

“Fine. What are you looking at on your phone?”

Maybe if you managed to gain his trust he’d at least tell you something of use. First you had to loosen him up a bit. Throw him off his guard.

“Stuff.”

“What stuff.”

“None of your business, doll.”

You sighed. “I’ve been in here for weeks with nothing to do and nobody besides you to talk to. Throw me a bone here.”

He returned his phone to his pocket. “Okay. The floor is yours.”

“Can I at least have a TV or something? This being kidnapped thing is kinda boring. Especially since I’m not actively being threatened, killed, or tortured.”

He shot you a wink. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You sighed. “Can you at least tell me what I’m still doing here? It’s been weeks.”

He stood from his chair, making his way to lean against the bedpost. “You’re getting real comfortable, making small talk with a villain, doll. That might come back to bite you.”

You paused. No. You weren’t comfortable at all. You were bored. And you had to gain his trust. You had a plan. You were just doing what you had to in order to get out.

Shaking the doubts away, you spoke. “Seems like you’re getting too comfortable talking with a hero.”

He smirked. “You’re still calling yourself that? Cute. But what exactly have you done lately that’s so heroic?”

You balled your hands into fists. “The only reason I’m still here is to keep my family safe. I’m protecting them. That’s what heroes do. Save people.”

“Bullshit.”

His words shocked you.

“You’re a coward. A selfish little girl who thinks she can play with the big dogs. You’re not a hero. Not anymore.”

You resisted the urge to lash out. “Shut up, Dabi.”

“You think I’m such a bad guy, doll, but in reality you and I are closer than you think.” He grabbed your chin roughly, leaning down to stare you in the eyes.

“I know you’re just barely holding it together. You’re cracking. You’re falling apart. You’re nothing. You’re not a hero. You’re pathetic. And you know it.”

You blinked away the tears forming in your eyes. “Stop. Just stop talking.”

He pushed you down, your back hitting the bed as he climbed on top of you. His hands grasped yours, pushing them against the sheets. “C’mon, doll. Being a villain ain’t so bad. Why don’t you just give in, huh? You know you were never cut out to be a hero.”

You gasped for words. “I— that’s not— I’m not a villain!”

“Not yet.”

You tried to hold it in, but tears began to flow down your face, damping the sheets.

Looking into your eyes, Dabi smiled, his eyes flaming with pleasure. “There it is. I can see it in your eyes. You’re broken now.”

You could only stare back at him, unmoving. No words fell from your mouth. He felt your body go limp. You’d stopped struggling.

He moved to grab your wrists with one hand, the other gripping your chin as he roughly pulled your head up. You hated the satisfaction on his face. You tried to look away, but his hand held you still. “Irresistible. I just love it when you look at me like that. Like you’re numb. Oh how you’ve fallen, doll.”

He leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. “But don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll piece you back together. And you’ll learn who you belong to.”

[charliedawn]

Imagine being an old classmate of Lucius and him stumbling upon your shop

As soon as the blond boy enters your shop, you know that trouble is not far behind. The boy is touching an item when another man comes in and warns the child by hitting his hand that was handling said item with his cane, sending him a stern look.

" Come on, Scorpius. Stop acting like a child. You shouldn't touch things that aren't yours. Your father would be ashamed.."

The voice, the look, the hair..Oh no..You would have recognized that condescending tone anywhere. You are about to back away slowly and hide in the back shop when the man coughs from behind you to get your attention.

" Shopkeeper, I am searching for a crystal ball for my grandson's class of Divination. Do you have any of those ?"

The hair at the back of your neck stand on edge at the pompous voice dripping with disdain, but you force yourself to smile and turn around to greet the client.

" For sure, sir. Please, follow me."

He doesn't seem to have recognized you yet and you thank Merlin for that miracle. You show him the different crystal balls and he inspects each one of them with the minutiae of a true expert, but you know that deep down, he is absolutely clueless. You almost let out a snort when he chooses the most useless of the crystal balls to buy, surely because it is the most expensive one and that the Malfoys ever had only one motto : Higher is the price Better quality it must be. You still cash it in and try to contain your laughter at the bad deal the man had just bestowed upon himself. However, you fail to see his brat outside, practicing the Alohomora spell on your front door and before you could truly comprehend what had happened, your door shuts close and traps you both inside. Lucius pales at his grandson's action and immediately withdraws his wand to open the door, but the spell doesn't work and he groans in annoyance.

" What is this ?! Why don't my spells work ?!"

You sigh before looking at your watch..6 o'clock. Of course.

" It won't work. Because of the many thieves roaming the street at night, I spelled this door to not succumb to any spell after 6 o'clock at night..It won't open until 6 o'clock tomorrow morning."

He turns towards you, obviously unnerved and is about to yell at your incompetence when a sudden glimmer of recognition lits up his eyes.

" Wait..I know you..You were in my house. Your name is Y/N, isn't it ?"

You scoff before mockingly clapping.

" Bravo ! Took you long enough.."

He growls at your mocking gesture before looking at the door with a scowl.

" Were you always that irresponsible ?"

You rise an eyebrow before rebutting.

" And you, were you always that annoying ? On second thoughts, don't answer that..this is why nobody invited you to the Yule Ball !"

He blushes in embarrassment and mumbles angrily.

" Why you little..Because I had Narcissa !"

You roll your eyes before replying with a jeering tone.

" Thanks Merlin, you had her ! Or you would still be a virgin !"

You would have never thought to see such passionate hatred in Lucius' eyes, him who usually remained so calm and who always had the perfect comeback. But, as you are both trapped, you sigh before getting two chairs and placing them next to each other while he stands still. You sit down and cross your arms before sighing exasperatedly at him.

" Are you going to stay up all night ? Come on, I don't bite..often."

He humphs at that last part before looking at the chair, maybe trying to decipher if there are any traps under the cushion. But, he finally indulges. You both sit next to each other in silence until Lucius sighs and admits.

" You're wrong, you know ? Someone did invite me..I never knew who it was though ? However, what I do remember, is the effort they had put inside the letter..The silver lines moving like snakes around the paper and the green velvet envelope..They even used perfume: a rich fragrance of mint, leather and a hint of fresh nightingale. No name had been written though and this is why I thought it was Narcissa, since she had been trying to find a way to invite me for a while..But then, I asked her about it and she never dared to admit that it was her who wrote it, I found it cute at the time..But now that the divorce is in motion, I really doubt that it was her."

He sighs loudly before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, exhausted. You had noticed the heavy eyebags and could only imagine what a single grandfather Lucius could be like. No wonder his grandkid locked him inside. But, since he had been nice enough to share his worries with you, it's only normal that you do the same.

" My shop is on the verge of collapsing, nobody is interested in buying quills and papers now that they have those damn muggle phones..It must be me ? I live in the past and now, reality is hitting me hard in the face.."

He listens to you without interrupting and smiles nearly compassionately at you.

" Guess muggles aren't that great anymore, huh ? I knew that, at some point, our worlds would merge, I just didn't want the Wizarding World to be lost forever..It's sad really."

You can't help but laugh bitterly at his comment.

" A Malfoy will remain a Malfoy ! Always with your ideas of purity and against any kind of change ! If you had just been a little more open-minded, maybe you wouldn't be the most hated family in all the Wizarding World ?"

He only scoffs dismissively at your comment.

" What is the point of being liked when you have power ?"

You look at him and smirk.

" Power ? True power doesn't come from money, Lucius..If you had been paying a little bit more attention, you would have known that power comes in many different shapes and forms..Everybody could have power over anybody, if they only know how to play their assets.. "

He arks an eyebrow at you before smirking as well and asks almost daringly.

" Really ? And what power do you have over me then ?"

The both of you ferociously stare at each other for a while and then, you finally decide to jump on him and tackle him to the ground, to his greatest astonishment. Before he can do anything, you take his cane and throw it away. You then take some nearby rope and, in a few minutes, Lucius is defenseless. When he tries to speak, you put your hand around his throat and squeeze. He grits his teeths and you smile victoriously.

" What was that you were saying about true power ? See how easy it was for me to take the upper hand ? You Malfoy men, always playing the same dangerous game..Over and over again. Never learning that it takes a woman to truly feel powerful..Now that Narcissa is gone, it would be a shame if I were to bite your head off ? Who is going to save you ? Your son ? I doubt it..He hates you. Your wife was your best protection, people always underestimate the power of a mother..But, dear Lucius, you should have known better than treat everyone you come across as pathetic worthless worms..Now, you can either tell me that you were wrong, or I'll tell everyone that a mere half-blood has put the great Lucius Malfoy on his back.."

His eyes widen at the revelation before remembering that he had never seen your mother..Your father was a metamorphmagus and many respected him and that had always been enough..He should have definitely digged deeper. He groans, trying to free himself, but to no avail. He finally glares up at you with everything he feels: disgust being a very distinctive look on him.

" Let me go this instant, you filthy mud..!"

But before he could finish his sentence, you bit his shoulder so profoundly that he finds himself on the verge of screaming..He only hisses instead and you then whisper in his ear.

" Ask nicely..and I may consider it."

He sighs, how could he have been so stupid ? And now, he is pretty sure the memory of submitting to the halfblood would stay in his mind forever..

" Could you please let me go ?"

He finally asks politely but, he is surprised when you start kissing up the side of his neck.

" See ? You can be nice when you want to.."

He groans, still frustrated, but also strangely aroused by all this..But, of course that, he would never admit it to you. He only closes his eyes and hopes that you will stop when you notice that he isn't paying attention to you anymore. However, you aren't going to let him go so easily. You take him suddenly by the chin to force him to look back at your flashing yellow eyes and, to his surprise, you growl.

" Eyes on me, pretty boy..You wanted to see real power ? I'll show you what real power looks like.."

Again, you attack his neck and grind against him until he sees stars.

" You..You will never.."

He tries to speak, but his words get lost when you get him out of his coat and throw it to the ground carelessly.

" Hey ! That coat costs more than your whole damn muggle shop !"

You bite him again, a little less hard on his clavicle, only to shut him up again and roll your eyes playfully at him.

" Me who always thought that you were an ice king, you are just a snow princess.."

He opens his eyes wide at the nickname before glaring at you.

" What did you call me, parasite ?"

You dramatically put your hand at the level of your chest, as if the insult had hurt you before smirking down at him.

" What ? Is that the best you got ? Parasite ? Well, don't forget that said parasite is the one who is making you harder than rock right now..Must hurt, isn't it baby ?"

He clenches his jaw hard at your taunting tone before suddenly raising his pelvis to hit yours, making you moan loudly. When you open your eyes again, he is grinning up at you and asks mockingly.

" What was that ? I thought you said you were going to show me power, but all I hear are the purrs of a pitiful kitten who thinks she is a predator.."

You growl and put your hands around his throat. You aren't playing anymore and want to kill him..To kill him for everything he had done, everything he was..

" Die, you piece of trash !"

But, far from being affected by your sudden death sentence, Lucius only smiles weakly at you and takes your wrists that are shaking around his throat. He takes your moment of inattention to flip you under him, your wrists pinned to the floor.

" It isn't fair.."

You mumble almost in tears as he frowns in incomprehension at you. Why are you crying ? You are the one who had attacked him first, and now you are the one saying that it isn't fair ? As if you could read minds, you try to explain.

" I tried so hard to escape..To escape from you Malfoys and the misery that you seem to surround those who try to get close to you..But even years later, I still end up crossing your damned path !"

He tilts his head to the side, surprised by your sudden outburst and stares at you while you start sobbing and wiggle to set yourself free. When he is sure that you aren't going to attack him again, he slowly shifts his hands from around your wrists to gently wrap them around your waist. He then cradles you in his arms and puts his chin on the top of your head before closing his eyes, calmly stroking your back with his hand to soothe you. It takes a few moments for the both of you to calm down and get back to a normal regular breathing rhythm.

" Soon, I'll be out of your shop and you will never see me again.."

You know that he is trying to reassure you, but the realization makes your heart skip a beat in fear. You would not see him again..He would never know who wrote him that letter all those years ago..He would forget about you. Narcissa had been clear on what would happen to you if you ever dared tell him who was the true writer of the letter..But, would it really matter now ? Narcissa was gone and Lucius was there, his arms wrapped around you. Also, surprisingly, had not make a move to get his wand back to Avada Kedavra you yet. It was a good sign, right ? You look up at him and as soon as your eyes meet, you know that he isn't going to hurt you. You then look at the crystal bowl that he had bought, broken and splattered on the floor. You sigh before reluctantly standing up and getting your most precious crystal ball out of the shelf and giving it to him. He frowns in confusion at your gift.

" What are you doing ? I haven't paid for that one.."

You smile genuinely up at Lucius before silently picking his coat up and running your hand on the soft material before giving it back to him as well.

" I think it should be better if you would take a moment to rest, Mr Malfoy..My behavior was inappropriate and I shouldn't have acted the way I did. It was foolish of me and I humbly ask that you do not sue the shop for my mistake. It is already in a very bad condition and I do not have the money to pay you back for what I did to you.."

He opens his eyes wide in shock before looking at the items in his hands, and finally lays them on a nearby table.

" I do not care about all that now. I don't even understand you. At first, you say that you hate me and try to kill me, then you bite me and try to seduce me in a very odd and savage way, and now this ? What are you trying to tell me, Y/N ?"

You bawl your hands into fists and bite your inner cheek in order not to say anything and turn around to leave. He is to never know who you are or why you are angry at him..You thought he was smart, but you had to admit that he was not the one you thought he was.

" This is where we part ways, my ice prince. Tomorrow, you will come back to your kingdom of paper people and fake happiness and I'll be just another insignificant person that you will forget..Until then, I suggest we both sleep our separate ways. The sofa on your right will be just enough comfort for you and I'll be sleeping in the back with the best company one can have: books."

He stares at you for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before following you and locking the door behind him. You squint your eyes suspiciously as he flashes you a dark grin.

" After all this time, I finally found you.."

The dangerous vibe he is giving you makes you quiver in fear and you step back until you hit the wall. He chuckles at you poor attempt to escape and when he looks up at you again, you can see that his icy blue eyes are nearly glowing in the dark. He gets out his cane that you regret not having taken and slowly makes his way to you, running the tip of his wand on the many books kept on the shelves. You suddenly feel cold sweat running down your back, is he going to kill you ? You wonder as he stops just in front of you and his eyes brighten as he slowly makes a mental map of your body with his eyes that give away a certain appreciation..Is he planning on disposing of your body piece by piece ? Suddenly, he take you by the jaw and forces you to look directly in his eyes as he runs the tip of his wand on your cheek, neck and collarbone. He then leans forward and whispers in his low baritone voice.

" I hope you had fun teasing me..Because it will be the last time I'll ever allow you to make a fool out of me..What ? You thought I wouldn't recognize the perfume ? You stink of the same thing you sprayed that letter ages ago..And, if it wasn't for that, there is only one person that I've ever heard call me ice prince."

He knew. He knows. Oh no..You feel your eyes sprinkle with tears in front of the truth. When you think things couldn't get any worse, he summons said letter with his magic and smirks at your horrified expression.

" I kept it. Want me to refresh your memory ?"

He doesn't wait for an answer before starting reading out loud the subject of your embarrassment.

" My ice prince, I have been considering over the past few months to ask you humbly to accompany me to the Yule Ball. My dreams are filled with your scent and marvelous blue eyes that seem to light up a path to Heaven. When I close my eyes, my thoughts are filled with images of your delicate..Oh my !"

He stops abruptly and glances at you with a sinful smile.

" I had forgotten how detailed the letter was..I remember making Narcissa very happy the following day. To think that it could have been you..You must be feeling so disappointed.."

You blush vividly and try to get out of his grip by scratching his face, but he takes both of wrists and pins them above your head with one hand before continuing reading, not the least bothered.

"Oh no, my darling..You'll stay right there and listen to every word you wrote me..You'll listen and I'll make sure that you remember all of them by heart by the end of the night.. That way, you can shout all you want about how you've put the great Malfoy on his back, but I'll have the immense pleasure to tell everyone who I've succeeded in bringing to her knees."

Your heartbeat quickens at his words and you try to get back up, but Lucius doesn't let you. He pins you down to the table while motioning you to stay quiet.

" You..You're evil.."

You manage to gasp out and he chuckles, as if the insult in itself was some kind of hilarious joke.

" Coming from you ? It's a compliment, my dear..You bit me and tried to kill me. Now, where was I ? Ah, yes..Your delicate hands around my throat and your tongue against the crook of my neck.."

He leans in and slowly and sensually licks your neck from your collarbone to that place behind your ear. He then proceeds to whisper in the shell of your ear.

" I must admit, you are far more responsive than Narcissa at the time.."

His hand lowers itself agonizingly slow down your waist until he reaches your waist and suddenly uses it as leverage to drag you towards him brutally, as if to make you realize that it is happening, that he is here, that it isn't all just a dream..

" Your lips look irresistibly pleasing, my dear..Mind if I get a taste ?"

Before you can say anything, his lips are upon yours and his tongue is invading every crevice of your mouth. You roll your hips against him as a response and he slowly drags his other hand from your wrist to your throat. He squeezes lightly and with your free hands, you cradle his face for him to stay still.

"..I've never seen such beautiful sapphire eyes and only the thought of you makes me want to sing and dance.."

The letter falls from his hand as he understands that he doesn't have to remind you..as you've never truly forgotten. He kisses you again, but sweetly this time. Before you can continue however, he stands up and gets out of the room, leaving you hot and bothered.

" What are you doing ?!"

You yell, almost in despair and he only chuckles before closing the door behind him.

" I did what I said. You won't forget that letter any time soon..However, I can't allow myself to be seen with an half-blood..It would be improper."

" Im..Improper..?"

You repeat, as if dumbstruck by the fact that you may have been played with..You look at the door with a glare before getting up and walking determinedly towards the door. You try to open it, but find it locked.

" Lucius ! Open this door right now !"

But you are only met with a laugh from the other side.

" Good night."

You try to open it by force, but it doesn't work and you can't do anything but declare defeat. You get back to the table and sit on it before burying your face in your arms, trying to muffle your tears as Lucius had, once again, tricked you. But, to your surprise, you hear the door opening and see Lucius standing there, guilt written all over his features.

" I..I didn't think that you would actually cry.."

You don't know what angers you the most : his genuine shock or the fact that he is now staring at you, completely lost ? You try to get past him, but he doesn't let you and cages you in his arms.

" Come on..You know I was only playing. I was going to open it soon enough.."

You try to get out of his grip, but the man is not ready to let you go any time soon. He even tightens his hold on you and you finally lean back, inhaling his very expensive cologne.

" Am I just a game to you, Lucius ?"

You ask with a heavy heart and he decides to answer truthfully.

" At first..you were. But, now ? I don't think so. After the war, I understood that I may have acted wrong. I'm still trying to get better. I may have had very bad ideas over this concept of pure-blood supremacy and other..But, I know now thanks to my son and my grandson that I acted out and I wish to make amends. I truly do. This is why, I think I want to give it a try..Will you help me ? Please ?"

You are taken aback by such honesty in Lucius, but still nod in agreement.

" I have had many phases in my life, some when I hated you and some when I lov..liked you. I don't think that you are a bad man, Lucius. I just think that you are a very ambitious and very proud person. If you could just spend some time with people like me..You would see that we aren't so different..This is why I'm willing to make the first step."

He looks at your outstretched hand for a moment before finally taking it with a small smile.

" I'm looking forward to working with you, Miss Y/N."

The next day, Lucius is finally free from the shop and remains courteous. He even apologizes on behalf of his grandson and Draco seems surprised by his sudden change in behavior.

" Did you use magic on him or what ?"

He asks you in a whisper, but you only laugh heartily and shake your head.

" No. I just talked to him..and he listened."

Lucius smiles, his eyes creasing a bit and you glance at each other with a knowing look. Lucius would be back. He had still much to learn afterall..

[moribundanchor]

The Pelle/Dani Receipts, Post Ten: Plots

After the Ättestupa, stuff moves very, very quickly. Team Hårga ASSEMBLE. Dani has been broken down both by witnessing a gruesome senicide and being forced to look into Pelle’s earnest blue eyes and confront that not only does Christian not love her, but maybe, just maaaaaaybe, she might could love somebody else. Christian is being broken down both by contending with Josh for his mcguffin thesis and being seduced by a cute underage redhead (SO GROSS CHRISTIAN YOU HAVEN’T EVEN TALKED). Plus Simon and Connie, by virtue of completely flipping out and demanding to leave after the Ättestupa, have unwittingly nominated themselves to be off(er)ed first. Once newbloods start disappearing, they disappear at a pretty rapid clip.

Simon and Connie’s disappearances, and Christian’s shrugging indifference to both, trigger Dani big time, as she confronts both how self-absorbed Christian is and how little credit he gives Dani's thoughts. At lunch, after an upset Connie vanishes, Dani is, as usual, seated between Christian and Pelle. As the scene opens, Dani’s back is to Christian and we can’t even see her face because she is looking into Pelle’s smiling eyes. For several seconds. They’re not talking. Just...looking. Like you do. With your buddy what was holding you on your bed and telling you how you deserved better than Christian. And this is the first time we see them since Ari’s impish smash cut from Dani hesitating on the verge of something to Dan’s crushed head.

Dani does eventually ask after Connie, prompting Jarl to give her the super believable official story that she was driven to the train station. Sure, Jarl. And Dani is still having a hard time buying that Simon would just leave without Connie. Especially in the Director’s Cut, we see how Dani notices how devoted they are to each other. But Christian is dismissive, and Dani goes cold. “I could see you possibly doing that,” she says. YASSSS QUEEN. She’s looking straight ahead, jaw set and eyes flinty, as Christian asks her, “What that’s supposed to mean?” She doesn’t answer and Christian should be grateful because the energy is very FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT. As it is, we just see Pelle notice and quickly look away, hiding a spreading smile that is practically another hit of the sunshine motif. Meanwhile, Mark is lured away by Inga, a different kind of fool for love.

Simon, Connie, and Mark down; who’s next? Josh! Thesis Goggles strapped on tight, Josh sneaks into the temple to take pictures of the Rubi Radr and is summarily dispatched by an unknown Hårgan male. (2000 quatloos on Ingemar.) We do get a little gratuitous Pelle shirt changing the next morning (which Dani notices and quickly looks away from), and that’s important, but not as a hint that Pelle killed Josh. To begin with, there’s a bunch of reasons Pelle is unlikely to have killed Josh, not least of which our theory about why he isn’t sacrificed at the end: a) We see Pelle in bed when Josh sneaks out, b) even assuming there’s a secret door, Pelle really would have had to book it to get in there behind Josh and we see Josh make it to the temple without any indication of being followed, and c) assuming Pelle was involved in murdering or butchering Josh, we think he probably would have brought a spare shirt. Come on. He did the cake thing.

Pelle changing his shirt is not just eye candy/misdirection though. It’s actually a clever direction from Ari. If you notice, from this point until the Fire Temple ceremony, Pelle is wearing a different shirt with a different rune, Wunjo in black thread, NOT Fehu in blue. We will get more into this in Post Twelve, but Wunjo (”joy”) is an incredibly positive rune that represents everything we know Dani craves: joy, perfection, harmony, overcoming alienation, kinship and family. It literally describes positive, healthy wishes coming true. Pelle wearing this rune on the day Dani wins the dance competition and he kisses her is incredibly significant and indicates not just his intentions, but it shades the meanings of Dani’s runes as well. He is practically wearing a nametag that says, Hi, my name is Dani’s True Love.

At breakfast, Christian is icy about Josh, butthurt that Josh isn’t letting him steal his thesis with good humor, and Elder Sten announces the Rubi Radr is missing. Pelle, as usual, sneaks a look at Dani, presumably to see whether she’s buying it. The real Pelle/Dani content comes afterward, when Sten and Arne question them about Josh and Mark’s whereabouts and make insinuations about the missing Rubi Radr. (Everyone just step back and consider for a second this is all really for Dani’s benefit. While Christian's [sort of] consent clearly is important, they could have drugged him and gotten what they wanted from him at any point here. Dani is the one they want for keeps, and all these elaborate ruses only further isolate Dani from Christian and cushion her absorption into the family.) Everybody just...sort of assumes Mark is snuggling Inga still, I guess, but Christian cannot sell out Josh fast enough, and Dani and Pelle both look at him with undisguised revulsion. Meanwhile, Pelle does take responsibility for his missing friends and the missing holy text, and thus Odd magically appears (Pelle might be fidgeting his fingers or he might be affekting a secret message to Arne during this scene, too) and he’s given leave to go...look for them. [shifty eyes] 

It’s much like the birthday plot. Pelle gives Christian an opportunity to basically be himself, which makes Pelle doing the right thing, even something as simple and baseline human as not immediately forsaking your friend, a total repudiation.

Speaking of Christian being himself, while we don't believe Pelle killed anyone, he's laser focused on helping Christian get himself sacrificed. He takes every chance to stoke Christian’s most selfish impulses from his very first line, and more than that, he really seems to enjoy Christian’s fall. Again, Ari Aster doesn’t make many things in this film simple and plain, but Pelle’s delight in Christian’s corruption is one of those things. We already talked about the smirking in the Director’s Cut version of the car scene and the birthday setup, but once the plots start spinning, we get so much more. 

First, Pelle encourages Christian to think of Maja sexually by teasing him about her “taking a liking” to him and informing him she is of the age of consent. His affect is so permissive and tempting, as though Dani doesn't exist and Pelle is only being his wingman, and when Christian replies "Good for her" a little too grumpily, we know Pelle's aim was true. Pelle visibly savors Christian’s predicament. And he's aware of every bit of the spellcasting on Maja's end. When Christian eats and drinks the pie and beverage with (ahem) a little love story added by Maja, Pelle restrains a smile and a laugh. (This is the same lunch scene where Dani snipes at Christian, so he must have been high-fiving Ingemar behind the chicken coop afterward.) Later, Pelle smirks and watches from the corner of his eye as Ulla tempts Christian with special tea during the dance competition. This scene is particularly loaded in the Director's Cut, where Siv has made it explicit to Christian that Pelle showed Maja his picture prior to their arrival in Hårga. Yet when Christian takes a seat next to Pelle, he says nothing, knowing everything, and neither does Pelle. The masks are all but off. Christian knows what he’s going to do, and he’s ashamed; Pelle knows what Christian is going to do, and he’s triumphant.

And most sexily damningly, when Christian succumbs to a nice puff of paralysis powder courtesy of Father Odd, we see (and Christian sees) Pelle peep in through the chicken coop door. In the script, Pelle is described as looking away in shame, but that’s definitely not the Pelle we have on film. Film Pelle is HERE FOR IT. Film Pelle is gloating. And we think he really wants Christian to know it was him in the end, not out in front, but behind the scenes. While one could look at all of this as a refutation of Vilhelm Blomgren’s emphasis in interviews that Pelle is full of love or proof positive that Pelle is actually a (gasp) villain, consider that, flashes of annoyance at Mark aside, he doesn’t show that kind of animosity toward the others. Mark is willfully ignorant and gross; Josh is disrespectful in the sense that he wants to mine Hårga for his own gratification and ambition. But Christian is the only one he clearly delights in destroying, and that destruction is consonant with his love. Because of Dani. Soft, love-filled Hårgan boy loves Dani enough to hate someone for her sake, and that is a fucked-up wish fulfillment fantasy, make no mistake, but...it is still a very valid and common and powerful wish-fulfillment fantasy. That chicken coop smirk is, at its core, just as much an act of love as the birthday sketch. Dani is one of his family. He will lure his friends to their deaths for all of them, but he will scheme Christian to death just for her.

What? Just because it’s unhealthy doesn’t make it less true.

For more, click on The Pelle/Dani Receipts Masterpost

[clonecest-bin-account]

300 followers bingo - Echo & Torrent | Supernatural AU

(In which Echo gets followed by some Torrent boys. I’m not sure this is exactly what the asker wanted, but I had fun with it!)

Sometimes, Echo wonders what exactly the Tech Union did to him, because he swears he feels some presences, though he can’t put a finger on what presences exactly. Maybe it’s just paranoia. Maybe he’s just tired.

Little does he know, however, that there is actually someone following him in each step of his life.

  The first one to join him is Fives.

 He was confused when, after dying, he woke up in a lab without knowing where he was or whom that lab belonged to. Was that some sort of punished Palpatine had bestowed on him? Was there anything he could do? Were there any chances that he could’ve gotten back to warn everyone?

His desperation grew once he found out exactly where he was and, more importantly, who he was bound to, and with desperation shame also came, because Echo was alive and he didn’t even know it, didn’t even save him.

He stood helplessly as he watched his brother being experimented on, he cried for help, tried to do something, but he couldn’t touch anything. That was worse than death.

  Things change when Rex finds Echo. First of all, good to know that at least Rex is still kicking, and also… Oh, someone’s following him as well.

“Hardcase?!” “Fives?!”

The two brothers run at each other, enveloping each other into a long hug - huh, so at least they can touch each other…

There are so many questions they both want to ask each other, so many things they want to say, but in the end their silence speaks louder than any word could. They’ve spent so much time alone that having found someone who can finally even just see them is overwhelming.

Eventually, however, Fives finds himself speaking again. “Hardcase, I’m so sorry--” but Hardcase raises a hand to placate him before he can finish.

“Fives, I knew what could’ve happened when I agreed to your plan,” he says. “At least I was gone in a blaze of glory…”

Those words manage to bring a small sad smile to Fives’ face. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right…”

 When Rex tells Echo about what happened to him, Fives wants to scream: he can see the sadness and desperation in Echo’s eyes, and he’d do anything to be able to reach him, to tell him that he’s fine - more or less - to console him, but no matter how hard he tries he can’t do it. Damn it all!

Hardcase holds him throughout this whole process. He’d say something, if only he didn’t know that it wouldn’t help; what could his words add? No, he prefers staying close, offering consolation - for once - in a more subtle manner.

At least Echo seems to pull through well, at least partially. After all, they don’t have time to grieve, not when they’re still in danger.

Yes, Echo, get out of there!

 Fives and Hardcase keep following Echo and Rex, watching as things unfold.

They can’t help but to cheer their brothers on as they keep fighting the good fight. It makes them almost forget that they’re unable to do anything apart from watching.

No, it feels like they’re actually there.

 Fives doesn’t know what to think when Echo decides to stick with the Bad Batch. It feels unexpected, but oh well, if this is what he believes is best for him…

“Well,” Hardcase says, distracting him from his thoughts. “I guess you’ll go your way and I’ll go mine now, right?”

“… Actually, I was thinking that maybe we could stick together,” Fives replies. “I don’t know about you, but this gets lonely pretty soon.”

“That’s true…” Hardcase mutters, though he finds himself in a dilemma: to follow the Captain or to follow his brother? On one hand, he’d feel bad about leaving Rex alone, on the other, just watching without being able to do anything, all alone, is terrible. At least if he goes with Echo, he’ll have Fives keeping him company - and he knows better than to ask him to do the opposite, to abandon Echo to go with Hardcase and Rex.

Well, the Captain is hardly alone, in the end. He could afford to go…

“Ok, let’s stick together,” he says then. He notices immediately how Fives smiles at his words, happy about the fact that he won’t be going through this lonely journey on his own anymore.

At least now he has someone he can talk to, right?

 Seeing Echo getting integrated into the Bad Batch makes Fives feel… well, not jealous, but definitely nostalgic. If only he were still alive…

Not to mention about the chips part, because that’s still something dangerous that is looming over all of them, except that only Fives is aware of it. Rex should be too, but he doesn’t seem to have taken his words seriously judging from what he saw.

He doesn’t want anything to happen to Echo, not now that he’s finally free, but how can he be certain that nothing will go wrong? No, things are about to change, he can feel it.

 Both he and Hardcase get the confirmation that things have gone to shit when Order 66 gets sent out.

They’re on Kamino, still following Echo wherever he goes, when it happens. At first Fives fears Echo’s going to succumb, but for some reason that he can’t pinpoint, but he’s grateful for them nonetheless, neither he nor the Bad Batch are changed by it.

Whatever the reason is, it’s enough to keep them from becoming meat droids, but it also puts them in danger.

 Again, all Fives and Hardcase can do is to follow Echo and cheer on him. They know he can’t hear them, but they do it anyway; besides, who knows, maybe he doesn’t hear them, but he might still feel something - in fact, something he almost looks aware of the fact that Fives and Hardcase are there, though he always dismisses it as a passing feeling.

It doesn’t matter, as long as he remains safe. Despite the fact that Fives would want nothing more than to be with Echo again, he’d also rather have him be alive as long as he can, so he’s willing to wait some more, no matter how frustrating and lonely it can get. At least he has Hardcase to keep him company, just as Hardcase has him.

  After Echo and the Bad Batch manage to find a ship to escape, they think that, at least for a while, they can metaphorically catch their breath, but they’re proven wrong when another ghost appears. Oh no…

 When Jesse opens his eyes, the first things he sees are his dead companions, which means that something must be wrong. What is happenin… Wait.

“Jesse?” Hardcase mutters, tentatively approaching the figure in front of him and Fives.

It’s like a switch has been flipped as Jesse breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably as his dead brothers try to console him. “I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry!” he keeps repeating over and over again, unable to stop.

 After he calms down a bit, he manages to tell what has happened to him, how he lost control of his body. So it really has started, huh?

“What about Rex?” Fives asks. Is he dead too?

“I think he’s fine…” Jesse mutters. “He did manage to escape with Ahsoka…”

Well, that would explain why there’s no Rex ghost hanging around. That’s one reassuring thing at least.

 “… What now?” Jesse asks. There’s pure desperation in his eyes. “What do we do now?”

Fives and Hardcase look at each other. Yeah, that’s something both of them have gone through on their own; exactly because they know how it feels they’re more than determined to help Jesse through it. Like hell they’re going to let a brother down.

“You can stay with us,” Hardcase offers. “At least you won’t be alone.”

“So, we just follow Echo around and see where things go?” Jesse asks. He’s obviously not too fond of the idea, which is understandable: they weren’t made just to observe things, but to act.

“What else can we do?” Fives replies. He hates how resigned he sounds, but really, what can they do? If there was anything he could do to change things, he would’ve done it a long time ago, and he tried, but to no avail.

A sigh escapes Jesse’s mouth at those words. It seems that he’s beginning to understand. “Yeah, you’re right…”

 They hug. Despite the fact that they’re supposed to be incorporeal, they still do feel something, at least with each other; besides, they might be ghosts now, but that doesn’t mind that they’ve lost interests in physical forms of affection.

They can find solace in each other, at least.

  And so, here they are, a pale shadow of what they used to be, but still here for some twists of fate.

All they can do is watching Echo’s struggle to stay alive, to escape from the Empire, thus they keep doing it, hoping that at least one of their brothers will be able to make it out alive and as his own person.

Maybe one day Echo will be able to see them, maybe they’ll manage to communicate with him, but for now all they can do is to watch and hope with the constant question of “is this enough?” plaguing their thoughts. They really hope it is.

[sweetestlamb]

Rain On Me

A Motel Smut Fic 

Summary: The rumbling of the engine vibrates through her exhausted body, the fatigue from her aimless walk now catching up with her as she clings to the wide span of his torso. The rain leaves his thin cotton shirt plastered to the coiled muscle of his abdomen, those enticing abs she had only seen a glimpse off are tight and compact beneath her weather worn digits. 

Author's note: Sorry that this took a while, life has been a bit busy in the best way. I’m very excited to see so many others joining the fandom and writing fanfiction though, glad to be able to read stories from talented writers! I hope you guys enjoy this one, I had a harder time than usual with this smut, and the pov switches a few times because MY and GT had a lot to say and I just followed their lead. I can never write smut without a tinge of emotions so please excuse the excessive inner thoughts and inner monologues, I initially planned on just starting with the sex but I just love a build up. * Plays Ashanti’s “Rain On Me” 

Thank you for the beautiful header @essantial​ you’re the absolute best! 

The rumbling of the engine vibrates through her exhausted body, the fatigue from her aimless walk now catching up with her as she clings to the wide span of his torso. The rain leaves his thin cotton shirt plastered to the coiled muscle of his abdomen, those enticing abs she had only seen a glimpse off are tight and compact beneath her weather worn digits.

She hasn't the vaguest idea where he intends to bring them but she knows she'll follow him wherever he leads. Her heart had spattered to a stop just like the motorcycle's rumbling engine when she saw him approaching, his face chiseled and undeniably beautiful under the hard cascade of precipitation pouring from the skies. She'd never had a knight in shining armor, never had anyone try to protect her. She was hard, jagged and sharp, lashing out and wounding others before they could get close enough to harm her.

Yet.

There he'd been. Coming to save her even after snapping at her like a viper, acid dripping from the tip of his tongue as he crushed her under his foot like the empty can he'd compared her to. She had been too shocked to respond, to retaliate, to defend herself.

There was also that little voice that had awakened in her mind, advising her to think before she acted, a voice that frustratedly sounded like the very person who she itched to lash out at. The irony of her situation was not lost on her. He was both the one who tormented her and soothed her.

Ergo, she'd let his words slash her skin, hot tears boiling in her eyes as he rejected her once again. She hated herself for how devastated his words had left her, what he declared was no different from the thoughts that plagued her mind already. Was she just an empty can with no feelings? Loud and clattering, merely a hindrance to others who needed to be avoided at all cost? Was her father justified for squeezing the air from her lungs? If she had succumbed to death's inevitable call would she be doing the world a favor?

But, he had come to rescue her, and by extension of his act did that mean she was worth saving? Worth living?

"Get off. We're here." His curt words abruptly drag her back from her rumination, as he begins to slide off the bike, trying to pry her cold fingers from his immense warmth. "Let go." She tightens her hold fearing that if she releases he will abandon her, leaving her cold and alone. With a strong swipe he breaks her tight grip on his soaked shirt and stands up, long legs unfurling from their bent position on the bike.

"Come on."

He walks away before she obeys his direct command, and that's when she realizes where "here" is, a brightly lit motel, fluorescent light blinding in the dark fog left by the rain. After a slight pause, she hops off the bike following him through the glass door into the motel, the heat surrounds her almost immediately, her soaked body shivering underneath his sweater- the knight's armor.

The motel clerk perks up at their entrance, pushing the magazine he'd been reading to the side before welcoming them, "Hello, how can I help you?" His voice is inviting, much like a vendor selling goods on the streets.

Gang-tae flounders at the innocuous question, as she rolls her eyes, he routinely claims she's impulsive and needs to take time to think things through, yet he is the one that sped out on a motorcycle during a storm and now brought them to a motel only to act like a deer in headlights when asked a simple question.

She doesn't save him, watching him raptly along with the motel clerk. Curious about what he'll say next. Seconds pass as they both watch him awaiting an answer before finally, he solemnly turns to her, "Get a room here and wait out the rain. I'll ride home."

His words cut her like the blade of a sharpened knife, his presence was merely temporary, he'd had no plans of remaining with her, she was simply something to save and capriciously toss away before forming any attachment, insignificant. Anger and shame simmer in the pit of her churning stomach.

Poison curls around each syllable in her words, "I didn't ask you to bring me here, I was fine walking in the rain!" She spins around, with the full intention of marching right back into the rain and walking until her body is numb, longing to feel nothing and become the empty can he believes her to be.

His hand on her wrist halts her motion, "Stop being stubborn! You can't go back out there, it's too dangerous! Are you that fearless to travel outside in this weather by yourself? What if something happened to you and I wasn't there to--"

Her eyes widen at his shouted concerns, his grip on her wrist is hard as steel as his eyes pierce into her soul. Who is he to look at her like that and say those words to her? As if he cares about her.

She explodes.

Snatching her wrist from his hand she bulldozes into his space, eyeing with satisfaction as he retreats as she looms closer, one step forward, one step back.

"Why do you care if I'm out in this rain? Who cares if I put on a strip show outside like a crazy woman?" His eyes minutely twitch at the suggestion, something almost possessive flashing for only a second.

She misses it as her rant continues, "Are you angry? Does it bother you? Do you like me? Do you think you can handle it!" She barks each question into his face, until they collide with the machine, lights blaring in their sight, the crash from her hand slamming on its surface deafening in the otherwise silent hall.

It is dead quiet, only the sound of their breaths filling the air.

"Well? Why aren't you answering? I want to know how you're feeling, I can't tell. Maybe it's because I'm a empty can." She states spitefully, watching regret swirl in the dark pools of his eyes, his wet rain curled fringe only distracting her for a split second.

She shows no mercy, mockingly pressing on, "Why are you being so quiet? Are you an empty can too?"

Despite the clear difference in their height, he shrinks under her wrath, cowering under the weight of the carefully placed venomous words.

"I...I..." He stutters out, incomplete sentences dangling in the air, she watches as his eye dart across her face before he looks over her shoulder and suddenly turns a fiery scarlet hue. His cheeks lighting up like a wildfire. He pushes past her arm cornering him in and she spins around to continue her tirade.

Before her eyes land on the motel clerk, shiny foiled contraception hanging from the tips of his fingers, mischievous smirk on his face.

"She'll take a room." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and slamming down an indiscernible amount of money on the table.

The clerk begins to rattle off information about the quality of his "steamy hot" rooms and all the features available, mirrored rooms, costumes, handcuffs, and even a hot tub. She hears almost none of it, still stuck on his statement, she'll take a room.

The motel clerk passes the room key, glimpsing at them both, eyes pointedly lingering on Gang-tae as if trying to converse with him with just the shifting of his pupils, before mouthing, stay with her.

She doesn't give him a chance to answer, reject her again, he has hurt her enough today to last a lifetime.

The rolling sound of the zipping descending is loud as she pulls it down the length of her body, tugging the jacket swiftly from her body, ignoring the immediate chill that stabs her skin, shivers rushing through her body. Vehemently she throws the sweater at him, watching as he jumps back from the soaked material before his eyes land on her throat. He gasps at the sight.

She knows what he's seeing, can feel her father's hands still curled around her throat bruising the tender skin and marking her a monster. Something to be passionately murdered, snuffed out of existence.

If that was his sole purpose for coming she didn't need his fucking pity.

Snatching the key she storms off, absently listening as the clerk directs her to the location of her room. She strides down the winding maze of the hall, following the signs as they guide her until she sees her room door, 1J. Finally, she approaches the door, key already in hand.

Only to be stilled by a hand on her shoulder, twisting around in shock she's rendered speechless by the face that greets her.

She's never seen this man in her life but his smarmy smile instantly puts her on edge. A gold tooth glints back at her when his mouth curls up in a salacious grin, "What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all on your lonesome? You look like you could use some company." He boldly moves into her space, openly perusing her like goods, her skin crawls under his appraisal, her black undergarments peeking through the soaked white of her dress.

The desire to cover herself is colossal.

"Don't touch me." She shoves him away, snarling at his audacity, homicidal thoughts surging in her mind as she contemplates removing her shoe and bludgeoning him until he's an unrecognizable pulp on the dingy carpeted floor. 

He chuckles at her refusal, "Don't be like that. You should know that girls that look like you only come here for one reason. Don't play hard to get. I have money." He proudly pulls a few crumpled bills from the dark crevice of his pants, his hands encroach closer, intending to slip the money into the top of her dress.

She recoils from his grubby hands, voice raising with indignation and horror, "You think I'm a whore?! And you think you can pay for me with this measly amount of money? Get away from me you loser, use your hand like you have been all your life!" Her voice echoes off the walls and she watches the smirk melt off his face, giving way to pure distinguishable rage.

"You bitch! I'll show you your place!" His hand draws back, open palm flying toward her face. She stands still expecting the fire that will ignite on her cheek.

Only it never comes.

Her eyes which screwed shut in anticipation of the impact, flutter open only to see his broad back covering her completely. His hands are wrapped tightly around the wrist of the man, twitching in his grip as the man sputters out, "Who are you? Let go of me! This is none of your busine--aahh!!" He screams dropping to his knees as the pressure on his wrist increases, pain etched in every wrinkle of his putrid face.

"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry, please let go. You're breaking my wrist, please!" The man pleads on the floor, pulling at Gang-Tae's hold, unable to pry even a finger loose, she watches as he squeezes even tighter, his own white knuckles standing out starkly against the burnt red of the man's wrist.

Then finally he releases him. Tosses his hand away with a short cry, when he speaks his voice is crushed glass, "Get out of here." The man clutches his tender flesh to his chest before scrambling away, too terrified to even look back at them as he runs away.

He turns to her with a penetrating glare, "Why are you standing in the hallway looking like that? Come let's go inside." He motions at her body at his first inquiry, eyes struggling to avoid her tempting figure that can be seen through the almost transparent dress.

She remains still, baffled by his sudden appearance before turning to open the door and watching dazedly as he enters the room, dragging her alongside.

She'd unaware of the internal battle that had raged his brain after her departure, his eyes had followed her longingly as she moved further and further away before disappearing out of his sight. He couldn't deny the fear that raked through his bones, yearning to protect her, he'd tried to leave only to stomp back in to the annoyingly cheerful smile of the motel clerk. Defeated, he'd asked for a second key and followed her down the hallway, only to see red and then black. His reaction had been visceral, immediate and uncontrollable. He'd yearned to beat that bastard to a unrecognizable pulp for daring to touch her.

Thinking of what would have happened had he not been there makes his skin crawl. He can't leave her alone in a place like this with suspicious characters like that lurking around every corner.

Despite his best efforts he couldn't stop the pull that she had on him, his body dragged into her powerful orbit. He watches her beautiful face, expressionless as she gazes at him, none of that fire that's usually directed his way. His eyes soften at the red markings that decorate her otherwise blemish free silken skin. His anger flares again.

"What are you doing here? I thought you left." Never one to stray away from a confrontation, she immediately begins her interrogation. Eyes narrowing into dangerous slits, tracking his every movement for signs of deceit.

At a lost at how to answer, he simply stands there, their eyes locked in a battle that has been fought many times since they crashed into each other's lives.

"I don't need your pity." She bites out, snarling at him.

Her fury ignites his own, "Good. You won't get any from me. I brought you here so I should stay. That's all."

Her eyes scream liar, liar, liar as they pierce into him but she doesn't question him any further. Stomping off to the what must be the bathroom before slamming the door shut. He sighs a short breath of relief before collapsing into the bed.

Without her there to distract him he openly glances around the room, cheeks burning when he notices what exactly he has willingly walked into. The entire ceiling is smooth clear glass, streak free and crystalline shiny. His own embarrassed face stares back at him, his lips opened in a small oh.

Something fuzzy and pink catches his attention in the reflection at the head of the bed, he turns to see what it is before flinching away in surprise. He falls off the bed during his jolt, butt plummeting into the floor.

His brains tumbles before resettling.

Hand cuffs. A pair of hand cuffs are attached to the metal bar of the bed post, one half closed as the other lays open in a fluffy pillow. He's only asked for a basic room, nothing special, his exact words. Yet there is nothing ordinary about this room. He mentally curses the motel clerk, that presumptuous instigator, he'd give him a piece of his mind when they left.

All the blood rushing to his head distracts him from hearing Mun-yeong's return. Steam wafts from the bathroom, completing her dramatic entrance, his heart thumps into his chest violently as he watches her step through the steamy fog.

God damn it.

Her long raven hair spills over a naked shoulder, wavy and damp, clinging to her skin as she approaches the bed. The only thing protecting her dignity is a comically small towel, barely reaching the middle of her thigh, putting miles of bare skin on display, her legs smooth and long, skin gleaming in the dim light.

His tongue is heavy and dry in his mouth as he gapes at her.

He juts his head up at the ceiling only to groan in frustration when her equally enticing reflection greets him. Stammering out, "Yah! Put--put some clothes on. You can't.... can't just leave the bathroom with a towel on!"

She smirks, "Why are you getting so worked up? You saw my clothes they're soaking wet, I couldn't put that back on. This towel was my only option, unless you preferred I came out naked." Her perfectly plucked eyebrow lifts at the provocative suggestion, he adamantly tries to obliterate all images of that very vision that rush to his mind. Other regions of his body similarly taking an interest with this conversation.

He doesn't respond to her obvious teasing remark. Primarily because he is overwhelmed, not used to being this turned on. He can't even deny that reality, not as the heat between his legs begins to perk up in interest, ignored for far too long.

Terrified he glances back at her, finding her enraptured in the ceiling , winking and smiling at her reflection, oblivious to his plight. Gratitude and relief both dance in harmony across his skin, he uses the diversion to quietly scamper to the bathroom. The door closing signaling a much needed reprieve. He lets out a sigh as he presses his head to the door, the wood cool against his hot face. In and out, in and out. He centers himself, tugging the strings of control back into there rightful place. Feeling the desire that bloomed in his loins fissure away until only smoke remains in its destruction.

Seeing her undergarments carelessly strewn across the floor almost undoes all the carefully constructed walls he built but he closes his eyes and hops into the shower, willing himself to think of nothing.

He did the best he could to wring the excess water from his clothes before dejectedly dragging the wet cold material back onto his now shower warm skin.

It's not the best solution but it is unthinkable to exit the bathroom in only a towel, knowing that she would be donning as little as well. If they were both in towels, it would be bad. Catastrophic, even.

He gives himself a pep talk sitting on the towel, praying for control and Mun-yeong's deep slumber that will last the remainder of the night. 

His second wish is not granted as he opens the bathroom door, stopping in his tracks at the inexplicable scene.

Her lips are sealed around something plastic held between her fingers, she blows into the object and it expands in her hands, he notices the phallic shape before realizing that she's blowing the condoms like balloons.

Where did she get condoms?

Why does she have condoms?

Why was she blowing them up like erotic balloon animals??

He sputters out, flailing his arms, "Wha--What are you doing?"

With a final puff of moist air, she pulls her lips away from the condom, tying it off and looking at him nonchalantly, "You were gone for a long while, I got bored." She shrugs, "Plus we won't be needing any condoms tonight."

Disappointment drops like lead his his stomach at her statement, he should be happy, should nod in agreement and be thankful that they are on the same page, she will not be seducing him or tempting him to lose control.

Good.

Great.

Fantastic.

His heart shouts liar liar liar as he tries to convince himself.

"I'm on birth control so we don't need these getting in the way. I want to feel every inch of you, I don't want anything in between us." She calmly detonates a bomb on him, all while undressing him with her eyes and leaving every little to his imagination in her attire. Tossing the condom to the side to land with all the others she has blown up. 

"I told you to stop. Stop saying things like that to me."

"Hypocrite. You're the one who brought me to a motel, you're the one that got jealous in the hallway, you're the one who came out in a storm to rescue me. Your actions scream as loud as my words. You want this too. You want me. Just admit it."'

Admit it.

His head is spinning from her accusation, his behavior has been nothing but confusing to him as well since the moment he raced out on the motorcycle, but hearing her lament everything so concisely forces him to face the truth. He had been the one to seek her out. Impetuously, searching for her as soon as he heard what happened, unable to stop himself from reacting. Why did she have this affect on him? What was it about her that called out to him so strongly? Why couldn't he control himself when she was involved?

All questions he wasn't ready to hear the answers to.

She wasn't wrong, he was a coward.

Wordlessly he sways to the bed, needing something solid to keep him afloat in the ocean of his thoughts.

The red circling her neck grabs his attention again and he whispers, "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

Different emotions swirl in the haunting eyes and he fears she'll lash out at his question, coldly banishing it as the pity she shouted she didn't want from him.

She never does what he expects.

A humorless grin spreads across her face, "I'm alive. I'm fine. This wasn't the first time and it probably won't be the last. That man hates me and the feeling is mutual. You know what's funny, you're the first person to ask me if I'm okay. All of your little nurse friends just watched as he tried to kill me. Isn't that funny?"

It isn't funny. His hands clench in ire thinking about her gasping for life on the ground as no one came to her aide. Unable to fathom how her own father could be so cruel.

"That shouldn't have happened to you."

She looks at him dispassionately, fight leaving her eyes and her shoulders sagging.

"All monsters must die. Didn't you say that people like me should be avoided? Don't you think he was trying to do the world a favor by killi--"

"Shut up." He slams his hand over her mouth, rolling cross the expanse of the bed until they are a mere inches apart.

"You said you didn't want pity. So stop pitying yourself. What happened was wrong and you didn't deserve that."

Her eyes desperately search his face again, as she looks up at him, finding what they're looking for before he sees the sadness bleed from her eyes leaving room for something better, brighter.

It's only when her eyes shift to his lips that he realized how close they are.

Too close.

Moving his hand off her lips, he starts to lean back, scurrying back to safety. But she moves with him, towel shifting down with her upward movement, precariously close to falling and his eyes grow larger in fear.

Suddenly their positions are swapped and he's gazing up at her hovering over him, dark curtain of her hair tumbling over her shoulder and cocooning him. He aches to run his fingers through the locks.

"I don't want pity. But I do want your desire. You're looking at me like you want to eat me alive. Do it. Give me that."

His body constricts at the demanding request, shaking his head in arbitrary refusal, disregarding the heat and want that swells like a wave at her words.

"No. No... We shouldn't. I can't. Just go to sleep."

She brushes a hand through the wet fringe that frames his forehead, sliding through the wet locks, "You look delectable with your hair like this. I have to admit though, seeing you racing to come save me. I was quite smitten."

Pride unfurls in his chest.

Then she steals his breath.

The kiss isn't sudden or spontaneous, she smiles at him, a gorgeous smile that transforms her face from pretty to breathtaking, before she becomes to lean down, her eyes locked on his lips leaving no need for speculation. Her intentions couldn’t be clearer. 

He has ample time to move, reject her once again and only allow himself to have her in small manageable doses. Being around her is far more addicting than any drug.

He is too weak to follow through. 

The kiss is soft, softer than he expected from someone as unrestrained as her. Her hands are gentle on his face, caressing his cheeks as she presses her insistent lips into his. The kiss is nothing like he expected and thus it is perfect.

Just a kiss. He'll allow only one kiss. That should be enough to sate his hunger for her.

She starts to deepen the kiss, tongue poking at the tight seal of his mouth impatiently, then her fingers trail under his now slightly damp shirt, nails raking at the muscle that lays hidden, his mouth falls open at the new sensation. Wasting no time she licks into his mouth, moaning when she finally gets a taste of him. He suppresses an answering groan, light-headed as she overwhelms his sense, her scent and her taste coiling around him in an impenetrable wall.

He losses himself in the kiss, riding the high of finally tasting that mouth that has tormented him for too long. Letting her tongue swirl in his mouth, sinuously dancing with his own, until his lungs are burning .

When she begins to push his shirt further up his torso, baring his stomach, he jumps away from her touch and ultimately breaking their wet connection. Grabbing her wrists in his own shaking hands, he halts her movement, taking a deep measured breath.

"That's enough. I.... can't."

His control shudders at the sight of her above him, her eyes begin to slide open slowly as she falls back to earth, the passion that pours out from those eyes is enough to knock him off his high horse, her lips are kiss swollen and rosy wet, teasing him, tempting him. Her face is flushed as she pants, minty breath landing on his face with every exhale.

"Aren't you tired?" The tone of her voice is exasperated, at his bewildered expression she continues, "Of lying to yourself? Doesn't it get tiring never getting what you want?"

You're just a kid who wants to be loved.

I know you want to have fun.

She's the only one able to see right through him, reading him like he's an open book with pictures and startling him with her apt analysis, another reason he knows he should stay away from her, she will be his undoing, untimely demise.

"You want this. Tell me otherwise." She demands.

He wills his mouth to open and do what she says, deny his desires and sever this moment, the glint in her eyes informs him that this will be her final request, answer wisely.

He lays frozen, words lost in the jumble of his mind. Moving too fast for him to pluck them out and form a coherent sentence. Then she begins to move away, taking her delicious heat with her and his hand flies out instinctively, grabbing her towel covered waist his brain screaming no.

She stills, narrowed slits glaring down at him. Reading him again. Searching his face before she nods, "Okay. I'll take that control."

Slithering up his body, she catches his lips in another toe curling kiss, harder than before, all tongue and teeth, biting at his lip and demanding entry, he rushes to give it to her, weak at her passionate onslaught. This time he kisses back, wraps his tongue around hers and sucks, drunk on her flavor and ignoring the voice in his head that demands that he stop.

He feels her hands traveling up his chest, brushing on his nipples, before running up his arm and settling on his wrists, she lowers all her weight on him, knocking a shuddering breath from his overexerted lungs. The soft press of clothed breasts on his chest throwing his thoughts off kilter. In a flurry of movement, he feels her tug his wrist with both of her hands, something fuzzy curls around immobilizing him as his eyes snap open.

He pulls and meets resistance.

She draws away from him to watch his reaction, both of their eyes fixated on his wrist. He peers into the ceiling unable to look fully above his head and his pupils dilate as he sees what he already knew, felt on his skin.

Handcuffed.

Just as she promised she'd taken away his control.

A moan escapes his lips. She squirms in response to the sultry sound.

"I found something else when you were gone." She leans to the side of the bed, bending at the waist to retrieve something, rocking into his erection with the motion and he bites his tongue to contain his moan.

With an all knowing grin, she sits up grinding down into his hard length, throwing her head back, long hair whipping over her shoulder, wild and free.

He almost spills from that image, alone.

"Look." She offers what resembles a tiny remote with a cord connected to the bed, light vibrations start to buzz through the surface of the bed as she twists the dial.

The bed trembles and shakes beneath them rocking them along with the waves of vibrations.

"What are you going to do to me?" He whispers, fear and anticipation fighting for domination.

With a shark like grin she replies, "Take you apart and put you back together."

Immediately she sets off on her mission, openly appreciating his body, tongue dragging across her lips as she takes in the alluring vision of him at her mercy. He watches utterly captivated as she runs her hands up her own body, briefly pausing to mold her hands around her breasts, squeezing them and moaning deeply.

His mouth is arid dry, tongue turning to sandpaper at the seductive picture.

Then she tugs at the seal of the towel, loosening its hold, one strong pull is all that is necessary to have it tumbling off her body and cascading to the bed, baring every inch of her body to his ravenous eyes that dart from the soft swell of breasts down to the smooth mound of her naked sex.

Again, she takes herself in hand, pinching at her dark pebbled nipples, groaning at the pain before comforting herself with a gentle swipe of her thumb. His free hand cries out to join her in this endeavor.

"Touch me." Before the words have even settled in the air, she's capturing his free hand and bringing it to her chest, soft, hot, fuck, the only words left in his vocabulary as his hand becomes full of her. After a moment's hesitation, he squeezes the soft flesh in his hands, eyes locked on the tight furl of her nipple. His touch his soft, revered.

In absolute disbelief at the precious gift is he being given.

"Harder." His hand responds to her cry, tightening his hold and viciously tweaking her peak, eyes darkening at the way she rolls along his body, smearing her wetness across the plane of his stomach. He can feel her heady warmth sizzling on his skin, fingers longing to run through the drenched folds and tease her hidden jewel.

"Watch me." He falters at her words, grabbing her waist when she starts to slide off his body, wordlessly begging her to stay. She pushes his hand away smiling at his worry and dismay, laying flat on her back next to him, "Look at me." When he twists his head, wincing at the twinge from the pull of the hard metal on his wrist, he finds her eyes averted to the ceiling, he meets her eyes there.

Entranced as she slowly brings a finger to her mouth, lips wrapping around the digit, she opens her mouth showing him the way her tongue laps and soaks it, before pulling it out with a filthy wet pop. The finger trails down her body, pinching her nipples but their journey continues until they reach her center. He watches her reflection dazed as she uses two fingers to spread her lips open, bringing her feet flat on the bed to give him an optimal view. His heart beat skyrockets pounding in his chest as all the blood rushes to his cock.

With a deep seated moan, she takes two fingers and plunges into her wet center, her puffy lips giving away to the press, widening at the invasion. She shoves in until her fingers disappear into the depth, before dragging them out and fucking back deeply, her voice slices through the white noise sloshing in his brain.

"Gang-tae, I need you."

She fingers herself, in, out, in, out, eyes screwed shut from her pleasure.

He smacks her hand out of the way, control all but decimated, mashed to smithereens,before rubbing across her wet folds her moan setting him on fire before he mimics her movement, showing two fingers into the tight grip of her pussy. His rigid erection jumps at the thought of taking its place, her wet heat wrapping around him.

The vibration of the bed bounces her on his fingers, knocking her back on to his digits every time he withdraws. She bodily rides his hand, "More, more, more." He presses a third finger in, forcing her walls open sighing as the flesh gives under the pressure.

Ramming into her he watches her face twists in pleasure in the mirror, his own lust blown eyes greeting him as he watches her. She grabs her breasts, squeezing them as his fingers plunge into her steadily and powerfully.

Grabbing the reins of his desire he presses a fourth finger into her, his thumb accidentally rubbing across her clit and the most beautiful sight plays out in the mirror. Mun-yeong twists violently on the bed, bucking away from his fingers but he chases her, shoving the fingers back in and purposely massaging at her observing as she falls over the edge, orgasmic screams drawn from her mouth.

Her juices drown his fingers as she quakes apart on the bed, his eyes drink in the sensual sight of her fluttering lips around his soaked fingers.

He slowly drills into her lax hole, lost in her heat before she grabs his wrist. She takes three deep breaths, naked chest rising and laying before she turns towards him, eyes dancing.

"You're a fast learner." He reddens under her open praise. "Your turn."

His turn? She answers his wordless question by crawling into his space, and he's momentarily blinded by her beauty. Her face and body a work of art, all clean lines and soft curves, petite and tight. Her hand tugging at his pants drag him away from his musings.

"What are you doing?"

"Shhhh no more talking unless you're saying my name, asking for more or moaning. I already told you what I'm doing tonight."

Taking you apart and putting you back together.

He shudders at her words and then at her daring fingers, tugging his now unbuttoned and unzipped pants off his hip. The cold air slams into his overheated erection, doing nothing to change its stiffness or ardor.

"Beautiful." Dismissing his blush, she grabs him through the soft stretch of his boxers, stroking teasingly from root to tip. Watching a dark stain form at the tip as she massages the head.

She strokes him through the cloth a few more times, avidly tracking his face, "So handsome." She whispers it under her breath, clearly not intended for his ears and he heats up at the open awe in her voice.

Nothing could prepare him for the pleasure that overwhelms him when she extracts his length from its clothed prison. It stands at attention, thick and veiny in her hand, clear fluid pooling at the red tip and spilling down the sides.

The beds vibrations pushes his erection into her grip and he groans twisting his hips up, desperate for her touch. "I got you." The promise laced in her words cause his eyes to water, he's usually the protector no one has ever supported him, he rapidly blinks the tears away shame faced. 

She misses his emotional riposte, her eyes locked on his erection jutting out and almost too thick for her hand to circumvent fully.

Using both hands she strokes him, using the leaking fluid from gathering on his cock to ease her journey, he pants in response, "Please." His pleads fall from his lips, desperation annihilating any reservations that lingered, he's completely on board now watching her burst apart from his fingers ripping the last tendrils of control from his grasp.

She doesn't leave him wanting, eagerly bending her head to pop the tip of his erection into her mouth, lips curling around the tip and swallowing the liquid pooled there.

His toes curl as she hums at the first taste of him on her tongue, vibrations hitting him from both ends now, the bed and her mouth. His head spins from the new sensations, he has never felt anything like this, scarcely even finding comfort in his own hands. Hard to find moments alone while sharing a space with his brother.

She sucks him in ever deeper, his hand slams on the bed, handcuff forcing his body to pull taut as he tries to prevent himself from thrusting into her mouth. It's a fruitless battle, she slurps and bobs on his cock, dismantling him down to a molecular level. Every atom of his body is screaming her name, he doesn't notice when it falls from his tongue, "Ughhh Mun-yeong!"

His cries emboldens her, she loosens her mouth sinking the rest of the length down his erection until her lips are flush against the root. His eyes slam shut, spots bursting behind his closed eyelids, he thrusts up powerfully his cock slipping down her throat and euphoria batters at his brain.

He's powerless as he bursts apart, release shooting into her waiting mouth, expecting her to pull off he's further deconstructed as she happily hums, swallowing each drop as it explodes in her mouth.

The tight suction of her mouth is too much following his release and he weakly tries to pull free, his cock slides out of her mouth, with a final suck of his tip she lets him fall from her mouth.

"Delicious."

Her voice is raspy and rough, the tone causes his dick to twitch feebly.

He feels fatigue begin to form after his earth shaking orgasm, his first with someone else. His eyes drift close as he falls into a deep slumber. He's vaguely cognizant of a wet material wiping across his skin and a blanket being tugged over his now chilled body.

"Rest for now."

He obeys, sleeping finding him easily.

                               ********************************************    

She watches him sleep, peaceful for once, all the worries missing from his handsome face. Her body tingles in memory of what they've done. His fingers in her most intimate places, his cum thick and hot on her tongue, his salty flavor still lingering on her tongue. His orgasm had surprised her but it was a pleasant surprise, she had greedily taken everything he had to offer, hungry for more. 

His flaccid cock lays innocently on his thigh now, taunting her, it had been anything but innocent plundering her mouth earlier. She's been watching him sleep for a few minutes, a boom of thunder waking her from her slumber and she'd been unable to fall back into the sandman's clutches.

Instead she watched him sleep, taking in every delicious inch of his body, that gorgeous face with a chiseled jaw and wide inviting lips, his hair curled beautifully from the rain, the wide berth of his shoulders and the solid stretch of his chest which tampers into his narrow waist that is all set atop long thick thighs and legs.

His dick twitches and she glances up to see if he's awake, his eyes are moving rapidly beneath his closed lids, in the throes of a dream it appears.

"Must be a good dream." She ponders as his erection swells under her watchful gaze.

He thrusts up, handcuffs clanging at his sudden movement, as he starts to pump into the air. His lips falling open as he moans incoherently before she hears something that causes her to moisten, "Mun-yeong..."

He's dreaming of her. From the movement of his hips, it's apparent what fantasy he is living out, she shifts next to him, prepared to make it a reality.

Glancing up at the mirror, she ponders her next move before looking at him fucking the air and reaching a decision. She crawls over him, legs straddling his thighs her back to his front, her breasts jiggling in her reflection.

She grinds down onto his upward thrust, his tip catching on her moist folds, hands on his chest she presses back harder, letting his cock run through her wetness, moaning as the head rubs against her hidden bead.

She hears the moment he snaps back into reality, his hand immediately grabbing at her waist, she looks up into the mirror smiling at his glossy eyes that burn a hole in her face.

Before he can ask her asinine questions as he's wont to do, she reaches behind herself, firmly gripping his cock and leans her back onto his shoulder, he watches the stretch of her body as she puts herself on display for his pleasure.

With steady hands, she guides him to her opening, he can see everything in the reflection, her folds glistening as she presses the head in, his eyes slam shut at the feeling.

"Open your eyes. I want you to watch."

Her voice leaves no room for argument. He has no desire to.

He watches as his cock slowly disappears into her wet hole inch by inch, all of the air in his body suspended, she widens her stance as the fattest part of his length pulls at her walls before he feels her loosen and sink onto him, fully. He is drowning in the vision of his cock spearing into her tight heat, he might never breathe again.

The tightest vice around his length, borderline painful.

The continuous vibrations from the bed mildly rocks him into her, but after a pause she draws off, only the tip remaining before slamming back down onto him, the dual sensation of simultaneously watching her sink onto him and feeling her overloads his sense.

She rides him languidly, hips gyrating in dizzying circles as she undulates on his length, his arm shoots out to wrap across her flat stomach, pressing her incredibly closer to him, his abs rubbing against her back. Her back curves into his hold as she plants her feet harder into the bed, her hole spread wide as he pistons into her. Vivid obscene images reflected by the mirror, he can't look away.

He blindly finds her breasts, squeezing and groping at them in turns, pulling and pinching at the taut nipples.

"Gang-tae, harder, deeper." She demands, he rams up into her, length drilling into her spread hole, sinking deeper and deeper, slamming into her so hard that the echoes of his hips meeting her ass cheeks bounce off the walls.

"I'm too close.." He warns her, visages of his dream still plaguing his thoughts, he'd been lost in a fantasy, one of many wet dreams featuring the temptress wild in his arms. They'd been brutally fucking in the rain, cold raindrops sizzling off their skin as he pushed her over the handle of the bike and slammed into her over and over again. Her cries lost under the booming thunder that roared in the skies.

Pleasure beyond his knowledge had dragged him from that scintillating dream, only to be met by an equally enticing reality.

He woke up already on the edge, unprepared for her attack.

She begins to grind faster, reaching one hand down into the hidden depths of her center, rubbing at her clit in perfect synchronization with the motion of their fucking.

Grabbing her impossibly tighter he shoves up, pushing his cock as deep as it can go, her cries music to his ears, as he slams in out in out in out. Her walls clench around him, her fingers a flurry of rapid movement on her bead, he never slows down, driving deeper and faster, until wetness gushes out of her and coats him, her body bows tight into his hold. 

For the second time tonight, his brain oozes out of his dick. Hot load exploding into her depth as his eyes finally leave the mirror and screw close as he rides the wave of his second orgasm. Unable to fight it with her walls squeezing him and demanding that he fill them, fill her up with his cum. 

She collapses onto his body, milking the last drops of his release.

With a deep shuddering breath, she pulls off his softening length, rolling to her side of the bed, pushing her hair out of her eyes, resembling a siren luring men to their doom.

"Wow."

He agrees, holy fuck wow.

Their eyes meet again in the mirror.

"You like watching." It's not a question so he doesn't deign it with a reply. They'd both seen first hand just how much he enjoyed watching.

"Aren't you full of surprises." She preens, slipping from the bed, comfortable in her nudity. His eyes follow her every movement, he could look at her forever.

She disappears for a moment after the flush of a toilet, reappearing with another wet towel, carefully cleaning him once more. It feels oddly intimate despite all they've done tonight, the lines between lust and affection blurring.

He attempts to turn onto his side before remembering the constraint on his wrist, he pulls at it before glancing at her.

"Take these off."

She blinks at him, "Oh. I didn't see a key."

He blinks owlishly in return, "What? You put this on before finding a key!" Voice raising an octave at the tail end of his question, disbelief furrowing his brows and dragging his lips into a hard line.

"I had to. You wouldn't have given in otherwise. It's your fault, you're too stubborn." She scoffs folding her arms defiantly, he tries his damnest not to ogle her naked breasts that are pushed up with the motion.

He fails spectacularly.

"I guess I could go to the front desk and ask for a spare key."

He thinks of her white dress, now transparent from the rain and then her standing in that little towel. Those are the only things she could wear to the front desk and the thought of her walking around in either of those options makes his blood boil. Especially remembering that piece of scum who had tried to assault her.

"No."

"Why not?" She stares at him in confusion.

"I said no." He doesn't elaborate, avoiding eye contact.

With a shrug she cuddles into his side, naked body warm against him.

"Okay I'll keep you locked up like my love slave. " He tries to glare at her but he can't muster up the energy, exhausted, shuffling until he finds a comfortable position with his arm locked over his head, it's not an easy feat but eventually he finds a spot.

Their eyes drift close, exertion catching up with them.

Rain pattering away on the window, thunder rumbling in the distance.

He feels movement next to his head and then a soft press against his lip, fleeting and gone as quickly as it came.

His heart stutters at the implications. He tries not to think, fearing the storm that is brewing between them.

Sleeps finds him unarmed, taking him to a land where they can be together. He dreads the morning knowing he'll have to push her away, erect the fortress that surrounds his heart once more.

He doesn't have the time or luxury to have what he wants.

Moonlight streams in through the window, illuminating the key that lies innocuously on the floor, hidden under their discarded clothes. 

[elenamiria]

Contentment

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader The morning after spending the night together the two of you talk until you have to sneak away to get ready for the celebration on Naboo.  Five years later you and Anakin sneak away to a speeder race and get caught upon returning by Obi-Wan.

Part 4 of my Obi-Wan series (which is still unnamed because I’m a mess)

Parts 1,2,3: Beating the Heat*(2.67k)  -  Dessert*(3.8k)  -  The Naboo Sun* (7.89k) Masterlist here  Word count: 4.7k Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, smut - oral (m receiving, rough), dom obi, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (fem!reader), praise kink Here we go again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter of whatever this fic ends up being called (I’m thinking pleasing heat but idk is that stupid, who knows.) Let me know if you want to be added or taken off of my tag list (for this work or all works) Tags: @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @blxwjobsforclones​ @lynnie51​ @a-dorin​

After your confessions to each other you had slipped back under the covers, intent on staying with each other for as long as possible. Slipping into a comfortable silence the two of you basked in each other’s presence content to watch the sun slowly cast its golden light in the room. Once the sun started to fully rise you knew you had to sneak back to your room before any of the council were out and about. Regretfully you started to pull away from Obi-Wan only for him to tighten his grip on you and haul you back into his lap with a playful laugh. You giggled and turned to smile up at him, he had an amused smile on his face that quickly turned to concern as you gasped and shot back up. “Obi-Wan! I have to tell you something”

Once you noticed his face you softly grasped his hand and gave him a soft smile, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. But I believe we’ve developed a force bond.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened for just a second before furrowing his brow in thought, “Darling, what makes you think that?”

You took a deep breath before speaking, choosing your words very carefully not wanting to revive any negative feelings for Obi-Wan.

“When I was back on Coruscant and you were here on Naboo yesterday, I felt these emotions - strong emotions. They weren’t mine.”

You trailed off and Obi-Wan nodded in recognition, then something crossed over his face and he looked down. Voice low he asked, “So you know?”

You paused for a moment and whispered his name questioningly, unsure what he was referring to. When you received no response you reached across the gap between you to rest a hand on his shoulder, “I know what Obi?”

He looked at you, face filled with shame, “You know that I shouldn’t be a Knight!”

Confusion filled your face at his words and you thought back to the emotions you were feeling the day before. Your eyes widened as you looked back at Obi-Wan, who was looking back at the sheets again and you once again called out his name softly. He didn’t respond apart from his hand reaching to nervously tug on the padawan braid which was now absent and instead of letting it drop you moved your hand off his shoulder to weave your fingers together.

“Obi-Wan, I know what you felt that night and it’s nothing to be ashamed about. You witnessed something terrible happen to someone you loved very much so of course you would be angry. It’s only natural”

Obi turned back towards you, eyes hard as he muttered “Yes well I let that anger fuel me and it was more than that. If what you’re saying is true then you know I let hate drive me, I wanted to kill him. I think you know as well as I do that those emotions are not the Jedi way.”

Sadness had once again filled his eyes and you felt a small frown cover your face before you spoke again.

“My love, even though you felt those things that doesn’t make you any less of a Jedi. Even though we’re always cautioned about those as a path to the dark side and you used your feelings to defend yourself. Plus you are still a Jedi, you didn’t succumb to the darkness. You are not like the Sith, you know that you can still have darker emotions and be a great Jedi. Look at my master, he channeled those negative emotions into his fighting - you did the same thing.”

Slowly the cloud looming over Obi-Wan’s countenance lifted and he looked at you, biting his lip. He looked deep in thought and you remained quiet to allow him time to process your words. Finally he nodded and looking to you once more he offered a small smile. Leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and gave him a smile back.

“No one is more deserving to become a knight than you, not only did you defeat a Sith but you did it while using your emotions and you haven’t held on to them, you let them go. That’s a lesson so many of us are still trying to learn, Master Jinn would be very proud of you. Now, no more being down on yourself, Obi! We’ve got to get ready for the celebration and I’ve got to sneak out of here before any of the council are up.”

At this Obi-Wan laughed and followed you up off the bed. You fixed your nightgown so it looked slightly less rumpled and sighed deeply hoping no one was wandering the halls. Just before you left Obi lightly grasped your arms and pulled you into a chaste kiss. Breaking apart he whispered to you, “Thank you, Darling. I truly mean it, you’ve always been there for me and you always know just what to say - something I admire greatly. I’ll meet you when we have to go down for the parade.”

Stroking his cheek fondly you two shared another soft kiss before you snuck into the hallway. Returning back to your room was thankfully very easy as it was still early and it appeared no one had ventured from their room yet. Stifling a small yawn you decided you could chance a small nap and still have time to get ready, plus it would be best if your bed looked slept in. Though the beds were on Naboo were wonderfully comfortable you couldn’t help but think you would fall asleep so much easier in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s embrace”

Pulling your boots on and zipping them you stood back up and looked over your appearance before grabbing your robe and opening the door. When you walked into the hallway you heard voices coming from Anakin’s room, door wide open. You wandered into the room and the sight you were met with caused an affectionate look to cross your face. Obi-Wan was just finishing up shaving Anakin’s head, except for what would become his padawan braid, and the young boy was happily chatting away. Once he finished Obi-Wan brushed off Anakin’s back and shoulders to get rid of any remaining hair and he then passed the boy a folded tunic with the soft instruction to go put it on. Anakin scampered off to the bedroom you made yourself known. Stepping forward you moved to help Obi-Wan clean up the mess with a small chuckle of, “Well that has to be one of the sweetest things I’ve seen in a long time.”

Obi smiled up at you and nodded in agreement. He was about to say something in return when a small voice called out his name and Anakin stumbled out of the bedroom, tunic in disarray. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the poor boy who managed to get his arm stuck in one of the many loops of fabric on the tunic. Obi-Wan immediately went to help him and kind hands gently guided Anakin’s arms out of the tangle he had gotten in. You felt your heart swell at Obi-Wan’s gentle words and actions, if only the order allowed you to have children Obi-Wan would be a great father. He taught Anakin which pieces of fabric laid just so and helped him secure his belt into place before he stood up and backed away to make sure everything was indeed in place. Nodded to himself he then bent down again to quickly braid Anakin’s hair, officially marking him as a padawan. The moment was so sweet and you couldn’t help but grin so wide it hurt your face, you had never felt more at home than you did now. The moment was interrupted by a knock on the wall next to the open door and your masters voice echoing out that it was time to go to the celebration. At this Obi-Wan’s face dropped slightly in anxiousness. You were going to wait to ask him what was wrong on the way to the steps of the palace but Anakin beat you to it with a simple question of “What’s wrong Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan smiled and offered the boy, “Im just a bit nervous is all. I guess I’m still a little shaken by everything that happened.”

Anakin nodded sagely in a move that made him seem much older than he was before he responded, echoing your words to him from the previous day, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there for you no matter what!”

You chimed in with, “Yeah me too.”

And Anakin as well as Obi-Wan shot you big smiles. Obi-Wan rose to walk with Anakin and you to the door as he replied, “I feel much better knowing I’ve got both of you by my side, thank you my young padawan.”

As Anakin’s smile grew prideful it put some pep in his step and he was soon walking ahead of you and Obi-Wan. With a small grin you turned to Obi-Wan, “He’s right you know. You’ll always have us, no matter what.”

Obi hesitated for a moment, looking down, but when he looked back up you could tell he believed your words and the first truly brilliant grin you had seen since arriving to Naboo covered his face.

                                                     5 years later

“Shhh, Anakin! We’ll get caught by Obi-Wan, I don’t know how but I’m sure he’ll find us”

The 14 year old had to stifle a laugh as the two of you snuck back into the Jedi temple. You had caught Anakin sneaking out earlier to go into the city for a speeder race (a rather illegal one at that) and knowing it would be impossible to stop him you instead went with him. In the years since Anakin had come to the temple it was clear how headstrong the boy was and he had definitely mastered the art of sneaking out of the temple. You couldn’t count the amount of times Obi-Wan had gone searching for Ani in the depths of Coruscant to drag him back to the temple. You found it rather amusing that Obi probably knew just as much about underground racing in Coruscant as Anakin did. Your thoughts were interrupted by Anakin bursting in excitement as he recalled one of the more thrilling parts of the race, it was clear he was replaying the whole event over again in his head. This time it was you stifling a laugh as once again you hushed him, “I’m serious Ani, Obi-Wan will definitely find out-”

“Find out what exactly?”

At the amused voice echoing in the near empty hallways you and Anakin froze. Anakin’s eyes grew comically large and you bit your lip to keep from laughing at your hopeless situation. Anakin was the first to turn around and you followed shortly. Obi-Wan was lounging against one of the large pillars of the hallway, some Jedi you were for not even noticing him, his face was fixed in a stern expression but you caught the gleam of amusement in his eye. Anakin started to mumble out an apology before you stepped in.

“It’s my fault we were out, Anakin wanted to go and instead of sending him back to his room I accompanied him into the city.”

You flashed Anakin a small smile as his whole body relaxed slightly. There’s was a pause were Obi-Wan stared at you narrowing his eyes slightly before you added, “I am sorry...Master”

At the last word a smirk curled over your lips knowing how it affected Obi-Wan when you called him that and indeed you caught the way his eyes darkened, body tensing slightly. His gaze slid to Anakin before he stood straight up with a sigh of, “Very well, why don’t you retire for the night my padawan and I’ll see you in the morning for training.”

Anakin gave you a thankful glance before hurrying off towards his quarters. Once his disappeared from sight you turned back towards Obi-Wan who motioned you towards him and you closed the distance between you two. You were dangerously close to Obi despite the fact that the hallways were deserted around this time of night however you were still startled when Obi-Wan firmly gripped your lower jaw and hauled you around to the backside of the pillar. Enveloped in shadow he pushed your back against the pillar and a small annoyed huff of air left him before he spoke, “My sweet girl, what to do with you. Sneaking out with my padawan and not even having the decency to tell me. I was looking for you for hours.”

His dominating role left you breathless and you bit your lip letting a soft whine escape your throat, but you couldn’t help but question your lover “Why didn’t you just use our face bond to find me Obi?”

His facade fell slightly as he looked at you with a slight crease to his brow, “That would have been an invasion of privacy Darling.”

His care for you and unwillingness to cross any boundaries, even when it wouldn’t have bothered you in the least, warmed you body. You leaned forward attempting to kiss him but slipping back into control Obi shook his head before stating, “You don’t get to kiss me yet little one, I still have to punish you.”

A thrill shot straight to your pussy at his words and you felt your breath hitch too, “Punish me, how are you going to punish me Master?”

Obi-Wan groaned softly at the way you drawled out the title master and he glanced around either side of the pillar before hissing, “On your knees, little one”

Your eyes widened, faltering for a moment as you whispered, “Here? What if we get caught?”

A deep laugh filled the air around you as Obi-Wan trailed his other hand, which had been resting on the pillar next to your head, down your body to grope at your breasts over your brown tunic. A dark aroused expression covered his face as he spoke again, “What if we get caught? Well you’d certainly like that wouldn’t you? I think you wanted me to catch you sneaking back in so I’d give you exactly what you deserve and I think you want the thrill of the possibility of being caught right now. I bet if I snuck my hand into those pants you would be absolutely soaked for me. Now, be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

You couldn’t deny that every word he spoke was true, your whole body tingling in anticipation. Biting your lip you made a show of slowly sliding to the ground, holding eye contact the entire way down. It was only when you settled on your knees that you let your eyes wander to the bugle barely visible in the dark light. Obi-Wan finally let go of your neck only to firmly grasp the back of your head. Leaning forward you nuzzled at the outline of his member pressing on his pants before kissing it and then trailing kisses down his inner thigh as you reached up to undo his pants. You pulled them down just enough to pull his cock free and your mouth watered at the sight. You decided to get right to it instead of teasing him and so you sucked his tip into your mouth, getting it nice and wet before you sunk his length further into your mouth. Obi seemed desperate for you as he tugged your hair slightly pulling you to take him deeper into your mouth. You started bobbing your head up and down slowly each time you tried to slip him deeper into your mouth, when he hit the back of your throat his hand pressed firmly holding you there. A small whine was muffled by his cock in your mouth and you heard the quietest moan before Obi-Wan growled out, “I’m going to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours and you’re going to take it sweet girl, is that alright?”

You nodded best you could and at your consent Obi slowly pulled his hips back before thrusting forward. He never fully pulled out before pushing back into the wet heat of your mouth and when it was clear you were taking him well he sped his pace up. His hand tangled in your hair encouraged your head forward to meet his thrusts and you were trying to keep your choking noises to a minimum as you reminded yourself that you were in the middle of a hallway.

Obi-Wan was quite a mouthful and you did your best not to scrape him with your teeth as he fucked your face, sinking as deep as possible. As you grew more confident you relaxed your throat and Obi-Wan was able to sink into your throat. At the feeling he moaned holding you there. Your throat spasming around him caused his hips to jerk and your eyes shot up to his face as you looked at him pleadingly, your oxygen was running rather low. Another moan slipped past his lips at your expression and he held you there for just a second longer before pulling fully back, you softly gasped for air, head turning slightly, and then a squeak left you as Obi tapped the side of your face firmly with his rigid length and a command of, “Open up.”

You felt your pussy clench at his words and obediently opened your mouth wide, he plunged his cock back in setting another harsh pace.

You couldn’t help slinking your hand down your body and under your pants to rub at your wet panties, a moan left you as you toyed with your wet folds and Obi’s hips stuttered once he realized what you were doing.

“Oh my desperate girl, couldn’t even wait for me to finish could you? So needy, so..” His words faltered as you took him back into your throat again and he forgot what he was about to say when you moaned. Bucking his hips as his head fell back in barely contained pleasure he came down your throat. You whined again as you swallowed down his hot cum and looked up at him as you frantically plunged two fingers into your pussy. You had just started a steady rhythm when Obi-Wan recovered and pulled out of your mouth. He tugged your arm gently and you removed your hand from your pants with a grumble before rising from the ground. He tucked himself back into his pants before guiding your fingers to his mouth to suckle the juices off your fingers. Pulling them out of his mouth with a pop he then captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Once he pulled away he whispered against your lips, “My quarters 10 minutes, I’ll take care of you darling.”

As he spoke his hand came to cup your heat over your clothing and a whimper left your throat before you nodded, repeating back ‘10 minutes’. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips and then he pulled away and after ensuring no one was there he strolled down the hall towards his quarters like he didn't just cum down your throat. You waited another minute before emerging from the pillar and heading the opposite way, taking the long path towards the living quarter, body thrumming with excitement. When you slid into his quarters exactly ten minutes later Obi-Wan stood up abruptly. You shot him a questioning look and he simply shrugged, there was no way he was going to tell you he spent the last five minutes trying to find an enticing pose for when you entered but then got too self conscious - hence him rising quickly when you entered. Shaking off his small display of insecurity he pulled you close to him once you were within reach and slotted his mouth against yours. You trailed your hands over his chest and started to work his clothes off his body, impatient and needy. When you broke apart again Obi let out a breathless laugh at your rapid pace, "And here I thought I was the one missing you. I really was looking for you all over." You laughed slightly as you smiled up at him and replied, "Oh no I missed you very much and I'm very eager to make up for lost time my love""Well, I can't argue with that" Obi chuckled as he started to undress you as well. Clothes were flung away from your bodies as your mouths collided again in a heated flurry. Once Obi had undone your trousers and pulled them down he teased at your still covered heat with his hand. At your delighted noises he slipped his hand past your underwear and rubbed at your wet lips. He made a satisfied noise at the clear arousal and he felt his length twitch as he started to harden again. Slipping two fingers into your drenched folds he pumped slowly before scissoring lightly, ensuring you were fully prepared to take him again. You pulled apart to nip at his neck and you bit at his shoulder as you moaned out, "I want to be on top Obi, let me ride you." Obi-Wan slid his fingers out of you and the two of you stumbled to the edge of his bed, lips locking again as if you couldn't bear to be separated. He sat down heavily on the edge and tugged you down onto his lap. You ground against his semi-hard length, coating him in your juices, and at your touch blood pumped to his cock rapidly. You gave him a few firm pumps before lifting your hips and angling him towards your entrance, Obi's hips gave an involuntary jerk and his cock slipped past your entrance and poked at your ass cheek . A breathless giggle left your lips at the blunder and you realigned him before sinking down slowly. You both moaned out as he drank in your warmth and you reveled in the stretch that you felt no matter how many times you took him in your cunt. Once you lowered your hips all the way and felt him bottom out inside you a small whine slipped through your lips and you nuzzled into Obi's neck, the feeling of being connected overwhelming you for just a moment. His hands gently trailed down your sides to grasp at your hips and gently started to pull your hips in slow circles. Your head fell back at the feeling and finally needing to move you started to raise yourself up and down his cock. At Obi-Wan's gentle moans of encouragement you picked up the pace, the firm slap of your thighs meeting his every time you slid down on him. You were grateful for the firm grip on your waist as Obi-Wan helped bounce you on his hard length as you could feel your thighs starting to burn. Leaning forward Obi captured your mouth in a searing kiss and quickly plunged his tongue into your mouth, asserting his dominance, while you made out he adjusted his grip, one hand sliding down to your ass in order to help you speed up your pace. As you broke apart his mouth nipped at your neck before moving to your chest and capturing a nipple, sucking slightly. When he pulled back he blew cold air on the spot wet with his saliva and your nipple hardened quickly, which he then teased softly with his teeth. Your hands which had been resting on his shoulders for leverage came to bury themselves in his hair. With the length Obi-Wan had let it grow to you were able to tug on his hair to direct him to your other tit, craving the attention. After giving your other nipple the same treatment Obi-Wan picked you up quickly to flip positions. Now standing above you it gave him a better angle to fuck into your wet heat faster and freed his hands to roam your body. As he picked up his pace his breath came out in short pants and in between breaths he stuttered out, "Sorry my love, I know you wanted to be on top, I just couldn't help myself" You were just as breathless as him and gave him a small laugh indicating it was fine, you could hardly find it in yourself to complain - not when he was pounding into you so deliciously. Your hand flew down to toy at your clit as Obi raised your legs to rest on his shoulders so he could get a clear view of you. Moaning loudly at the way your body jiggled every time his cock slammed into you he grabbed onto your hips once again, intent of making it so you couldn't walk without thinking of him tomorrow, and pulled you into him. Your other hand slid up to cover your mouth as you cried out loudly as you rubbed your clit, your orgasm coming quickly. Having been so worked up for so long your release was short but blinding. Your walls clenched tightly around his long hard cock and your whole body tensed, Obi-Wan felt your leg muscle tightening and as he continued his rapid pace, seeking his own release, he turned his head to press soft kisses to your calf. He also took over rubbing gently at your clit as your hand had become rather useless and he whispered to you comfortingly, "That's it my sweet girl, you're doing so well. You look beautiful cumming all over my cock like that, such a good girl." Whimpers flew from your mouth as you came down from your high and you raised yourself on your forearms slightly to watch as Obi plunged in and out of your heat. You trailed your eyes up his body to meet his and you bit your lip before moaning out, "You feel so good Master Kenobi. You're fucking me so well" Obi-Wan's head fell back at your praise and you could tell he was getting close from the way his hips faltered in his pace before speeding up again. You let out another small whimper, knowing just how to push him to cum, and you whined "Oh, Obi-Wan you're incredible, I love you so much. I'm yours, no one else would ever make me feel like this, just you!" At your words Obi pulled out to pump his cock quickly as ropes of white cum flew out of him to coat your body. Obi-Wan's orgasms were never quiet, the air filling with his moans and whimpers mixed with reverent whispers of your name as he milked every drop out of himself to drip on your beautiful stomach. When he finally came down from his high he was met with your soft smile and you couldn't help but whisper out, "You look so incredible when you cum." Obi-Wan blushed at your compliment and suddenly grew shy again, it was cute how dominant he could be but still grow shy around you. He didn't reply instead retreating to get a damp cloth to clean you up.  When he returned you pulled him into a soft kiss, pouring your feelings into your bond and you felt him light up with similar feelings as he allowed his walls to lower for you. Pulling away you nuzzled your noses together, your force bond thrumming with feelings of love and you fell into your post sex routine easily. After being together for so long you knew exactly what the other needed. Tonight you settled against Obi-Wan, sitting in between his legs - back to his chest. You laid at an angle where you could look up at him as the two of you talked about your days, content just to be in each other's company. You pointedly avoided talking about your little excursion with Anakin to the city but you knew at some point Obi-Wan would bring it up to chastise you for encouraging Ankain's rebellious tendency but it appeared he would leave that until morning as a big yawn left his mouth. You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his jaw with the murmured suggestion of sleep. Obi-Wan nodded and lazily slid down under the sheets, taking you with him. You rolled off of him and to the side only to cuddle up against him, his arm slinging around your shoulders in a warm embrace. You sighed and closed your eyes and just before drifting off to sleep you thought 'I love you, Obi-Wan' and the last coherent thought you had before drifting off to sleep was him responding through your bond, 'I love you too darling'.

[kibleedibleedoo]

Hero of your own fate

Chapter 10

A.N. - I got really into the lore while writing this chapter so I thought it would be interesting to talk about it with the dwarves. Plus how else am I supposed to tell Fili and Kili about guns 

Word count - 2,223

Pairings - Thorin x Fem!Reader

Warnings - war, death, mental illness, self doubt

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-Your POV-

It was a few hours before you decided to return to the company. Thorin made good on his word everyone was dressed in their proper attire and the troublesome two were on their best behaviour. He gave a gentle nod in your direction causing a fresh wave of red to flush your face. Kili looked like he was going to say something but was rather aggressively elbowed by Dwalin before a single syllable left his lips.  

“Did ye find anything good to read in the library lass?” Dwalin asked as you took your place on your bedroll. He was looking for a way to keep conversation away from what happened earlier.

“Not really most of it was in Sindarin which isn't really helpful when you’ve only heard a few words spoken.” You shrugged.  

“Typical elves.” Fili grumbled causing the rest of the dwarves to mumble in agreement. Bifur took this moment to pass you a plate of something.  

“Ablâg” he gestured moving his hand to his mouth. The plate was full of a collection of meats and cheeses and some bread. The food had gone quite cold but you didn’t mind. Apparently, the elves had delivered food to the company instead of summoning you all to dine together while you were away.  

“Thank you, Bifur.” You smiled at the friendly dwarf. “Lord Elrond was kind enough to teach me some of his history when he found me staring at one of the murals. It just seems so amazing that you have confirmation of your creators and nobody thought to tell me Gandalf is a lesser-god.” At this the company looked at you confused. Every single one of them. It felt like their eyes were staring into your soul. “Did you lot not know he was a Miar?” It took a few moments before anyone responded.  

“Aye. That we knew” Gloin finally chimed in. “What do you mean confirmation of our creators?”  

“Lord Elrond said that Eru created elves and men, one awakening with the stars and the other when the sun was created. He also said that Dwarves were created by Aulë and you slumbered deep underground until after the Elves awakened during the age of stars. He also said that these Valar live in the Undying Lands and something about the elves being able to cross the sea to reach Valinor.” Not a single member of the company had looked in another direction since you began speaking. Even Bombur had stopped chewing whatever he was eating at that particular moment. Anxiety hit you like a ton of bricks. You had started so confident but now it felt like you were talking nonsense. “I think that’s what he said.”

“Lass did your parents not teach you this when you were little?” Bofur spluttered out, tack never had been his strong suit. Gandalf took this moment to finally interrupt the conversation with his arrival. He had an uncanny knack for interrupting conversations precisely when they needed him.  

“It would have been hard for them to seeing as they wouldn’t know it themselves” Gandalf cut in. “Our y/n is not of our world master dwarf. She comes from a land very different from this one. A world untouched by Eru himself. A world without great evil but full of selfishness and greed.”  

“But who made you and your kin?” Fili directed the questioning back to you. There was a hum of agreement from all of the dwarves except Thorin, who once again refused to look in your direction. You glanced at Gandalf for more help but the wizard had already made himself comfy puffing away on his pipe.  

“Well, we don’t really know.” Everyone seemed thoroughly dissatisfied by that answer. “We have theories and dozens of religions but mainly people decide based on the information available, what aligns with their moral compass as well as how and where they were raised. It varies from person to person especially in the modern era where science tells us more about our past than ever before and people are less likely to be persecuted for their beliefs.” That answer seemed to satisfy the majority of the company.  

A select few wanted to know more. Fili, Kili, Ori, Bofur, Oin, and Bilbo all got up to sit near you to find out more. Ori brought his book and wanted to write everything you said down, it almost seemed like a fantasy story to him. Oin wanted to know everything about the scientific advancements especially in terms of medical treatments. Not that you were very knowledgeable in that subject but you knew some basic first aid which you told him. He was very happy to hear that and quickly recruited you to be an apprentice healer for the company. To you that meant so much, you were no longer useless, you had a purpose on this quest. Maybe Thorin wouldn’t consider you a burden anymore. The others mainly enjoyed hearing stories from another world especially the technology.  

-Thorin’s POV-  

The moment Gandalf had said “untouched by Eru” Thorin’s heart dropped. If your existence was not influenced by one of the creators then there is no way Mahal could have made you Thorin’s one. It would be impossible. Yet Thorin couldn’t deny the way he felt about you. It was nothing like he had ever experienced before. I was like there was a physical tie attaching the two of you. He dreamt of your beauty. He wanted to be close by at all times, to share in your happiness. He wanted to protect you, to keep you safe and healthy. He wanted you to want him. No, it wasn’t a want it was a need for those things. He felt the same way that Dis had mentioned feeling when she first met Vili. He was so sure that you were his one that he would have bet all of the gold in Erebor on it and yet here he was.  

Every mention of your world stung. He hoped the quiet chatter would drown it out, take his mind away from the mysterious girl who had enchanted him. Yet his nephew seemed insistent on learning more about the weaponry from your world and the things you called guns. In different circumstances he would have loved to learn about ways to better protect his people yet now he just couldn’t stomach it.  

With everyone occupied Thorin to the opportunity to leave. He waited until he was out of earshot before he began cursing Mahal. To Thorin it seemed he had been cursed with only misery and pain in his life. It had been far too many years since to joy of his youth, with his whole family around him. Before the dragon sickness tormented his grandfather, before Smaug killed his mother and took Erebor, before the battle of Azanulbizar took three generations of his family from him. He had no time to grieve, he had to look after his young sister and lead his people to prosperity. To work hard, to provide, to make a better life. Now that his end goal seemed within reach it seemed Mahal had taken it upon himself to land another blow by making his one a woman who can’t possibly have him as her one. To him it seemed unnecessarily cruel.  

Thorin was unsure how long he had been aimlessly wandering lost in his thoughts. It was now late into the evening with the stars high in the sky. From a small flicker of light, a woody smell, and the sound of cheer he could tell the company had decided to have a late supper though where they got the food he did not know. One of them must have found the location of the kitchen. Likely the hobbit, even Thorin had to admit Bilbo could find food even in a mine, he could give Bombur a run for his money.  

He settled on a balcony overlooking Rivendell just around the corner from the rather jovial group. Thorin wasn’t sure if he could face you just yet, the fact that you were nervous around him seemed to be a blessing in disguise. It wasn’t long before his peace and quiet was disturbed, Bilbo had stumbled upon his place of solitude. Though it seemed the hobbit hadn't realised that just yet.  

“The throne of Erebor is Thorin’s birth right. What is it you fear?” Thorin knew the elf doubted them the moment he learned of the quest. Gandalf should know it would be no use reasoning with an elf. They sought to stop the dwarves becoming great hubs of power at every opportunity they could. Erebor was the mightiest kingdom of them all and it would be again if the quest was successful. Thorin took a step forward focussing on the conversation, causing Bilbo to become aware of his presence.

“Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?” It seemed that Mahal hadn’t wounded Thorin enough that night. Thorin shared those doubts though he would never tell a soul, yet to hear another voice those concerns cut deeper than any physical wound. After all he had done, after everything he achieved for his people his reputation revolved around his grandfather's illness.  

“Oi people can hear you!” Came a shout from the balcony below. “If you’re going to talk about people at least go where they can’t hear you.”  

-Your POV-  

You had been looking for Bilbo to offer him another plate before Bombur took it. You found him quickly and noticed Thorin was with him. Both looking out over the city of waterfalls. It wasn’t until you followed their gaze did you notice Lord Elrond and Gandalf talking below. The moment you heard the wizard mention Thorin the noise of the company seemed to fall away, you were shocked to hear of Elrond’s doubts. Especially since they were being expressed out in the open. Your opinion on the pair immediately flipped and in that moment you felt you understood why the dwarves hated elves so much.  

Your mouth worked faster than your brain. Before you knew it you had shouted at your host but in your anger you felt no shame. The pair hurried off together into a room out of sight. When your attention returned to Bilbo and Thorin you saw only a shocked hobbit and a heartbroken dwarf at the top of the stairs.

“They had no right to say those things about you Thorin” This was the first moment you had seen a hint of weakness in the dwarf king. They had clearly struck a nerve.  

“They had every right.” There was no anger in his voice only sadness. You felt his pain and it cut deep. You wanted to hold him to let him voice his troubles. To help lighten the weight of all that he carries yet you held back. Why would a king trust you, you knew he doubted you and your motives but you could not bring yourself to leave him like this. Slowly you made your way up to the balcony and took your place besides Bilbo leaning against the railings.  

“I see there’s a stigma around mental illness here too. I wish people would realise that its nothing to be ashamed of.” You sighed likely realising what you were saying was falling on deaf ears. “I don’t know what happened to your grandfather or father but you can't fear what hasn’t happened yet. If you do then the anxiety spirals out of control until you can no longer get out of bed.” You didn’t dare look at either of them. What had started with you trying to be reassuring had begun turning into a type of therapy for you. “It ran in my family too and I know how much it sucks knowing that all the sadness and worry is coded into your genes but its better knowing and being prepared. I can guarantee every single one of those dwarves down there will help and support you if or when you need them”  

You finally decided to turn to Thorin and look him straight in the eyes. It was a bold move and you knew it but you needed to covey how important this was to you. His gaze lacked his usual intensiveness but he did not look away. “You cannot let fear hold you back.” He seemed to be grateful for those words. He gave you a small nod and sighed.  

“Then we must leave before they can stop us!” It was only then you were able to look away. The strong self-assured dwarf king was back. “Bilbo take a few dwarves and head to the kitchens. Take foods that will last us on the road. I do not know when we will get an opportunity like this again. Be quick but stay out of view. Y/n start gathering your things. It might be worth changing back into your travelling clothes.” He motioned to the elven dress you were still wearing. Your clothes should be dry enough now that changing wouldn’t be an issue. “We must make haste if we are to be gone by the time the sun rises.”

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

Ablâg - food 

[saint-kore]

Sins Of The Flesh [18+] (Tim Curry x Reader)

♡ A/N: Hi everyone! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been going through a bit of a writer’s block unfortunately but now, I’m back with a nice treat! This fic is a bit scandalous but it was really fun to write! I listened to a LOT of Hozier while writing, gives me inspiration of sorts lol.  I honestly haven’t written a Tim Curry fanfic in such a long time. I did/attempted to a couple of times whenever I used to lurk on the CurryFest/CurryGirls forum (which I was wayyy too young to be a part of lmao) and it was a good time and Tim Curry is amazing. Mmh but yes, I hope you all enjoy this written smut feast of a fanfic!  -Persie♡

♡ Word count: 5,901 ♡

♡ Contains: Very NSFW, SMUT, A/U, oral sex, rough sex, penetration with a foreign object, taboo sex/sex in a church♡

--

 The stained-glass windows made the walls of the Gothic-style church glow with a colorful hue as you made your way to the confessional booth. It was dark, the golden rays of the sun just peeking out to paint the sky with a dark blue and lavender hue. The sound of your steps echoing off of the walls made you wince slightly, making you almost slow your walk to keep the noise to a minimum. The silence seeming to greet you in a relief when you did, making your body focusing on the throb erupting through your body as you opened the wooden door of the confessional booth and closed it once you sat down.

You glanced over at the young priest sitting silently next to you, his expression calm and patient as he waited to hear your secrets. In the dim light, you could see his green eyes staring ahead, his full pink lips parted slightly. The scent of him thrilled you; a scent of musk, amber and a note that was unfamiliar to you but seemed to round out the scent with an oozing spiciness that made you clear your throat gently at the flickering heat that hit you.

Your secrets.

The sins that invaded your mind and preyed upon your flesh with a predatory delight. The thought made you put a soft hand up to your throat, looking down in despair. Growing up in a strict, religious household was not easy for you; you often longed to be like your peers and other young women around you who were open and wild; the smiles on their faces were ones of joy and youthful exuberance that you longed to obtain or find within yourself. You hated being proper, you found no joy in being a ‘good girl’. You had urges, urges that were described so blissfully in the adult books you often pilfered since you were a preteen, of lust and yearning. A need that led you in the arms of a sweet-talking boy from your church who clumsily handled your body and deflowered you, both of you writhing with the grace of two unpracticed teens discovering their sexual appetite but it didn’t help the feeling. A burning that skyrocketed whenever you were near the young priest beside you and you felt ashamed. Tears prick your eyes as you close them tightly, memories of the first time you met the priest entering your mind.

A bright, wide smile on his full pink lips and a warm handshake has greeted you, followed by a smooth British accent that complemented his warm, deep voice. His dark hair was neatly combed with not a strand out of place, bright green eyes, and a smooth face. He wasn’t that much taller than you, standing over you by a couple of inches with broad shoulders and a charming mien.

From behind the latticed opening, you could see a rosy flush erupt upon the young priest’s face. He quickly swallowed and looked down from you, closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer to himself under his breath. You took the moment of silence from him to continue your confession to him, your hands gripping at the sides of your chair.

“Welcome. I am Father Timothy,” he greeted gently. His voice made you feel like you were being blanketed in liquid gold and honey. You had heard whispers from the other girls about Father Timothy, followed by giggles and adoring coos about how handsome and sweet he was – something that would have definitely gotten them into trouble if heard. It was not as if you did not notice, your thoughts were riddled with thoughts of curiosity that morphed into an infatuation as you spent more time at the church – learning and serving under him. Maybe it was his wide, boyish grins or the way his eyes locked onto you for a second longer than was deemed appropriate or even the way his hand brushed yours as he looked over your scripture reading for the day. The flit of his long, dark lashes and a wicked beam could make you melt in an instant; a feeling that you had never felt for another person and having them so close and so accessible made it feel so immoral. You both had grown so close over time that he granted you permission to call him by his name when you both studied alone. You made sure not to address him by his name publicly, knowing that it would catch the attention of others who would immediately draw their negative conclusions – and maybe rightfully so. You had noticed that he wasn’t as close to the other volunteers and members of the church as he was to you, giving them small nods of acknowledgement or even engaging in moments of laughter. Yet with you, it seemed more personal and somehow even affectionate the way he would speak and interact with you. His eyes always dancing with a little light, swirling in his deep green orbs when he would look at you. The furtive glances and smiles in your direction when you both around others would make you blush. They were looks filled with interest, thought, flickers of longing, you thought. Maybe you weren’t alone in how you felt…

“Forgive me, Father Timothy, Your Reverence for I have sinned, ” you started, finally looking up at him as you addressed him properly. It made you want to look away once more, but you held his stare. “I have been having…lustful thoughts. It has been causing me great distress. I have been trying to pray away the ache and I have gone unanswered…,” you breathed, nervously clasping your hands together.

“I have,” you confirmed, tugging at the puffy sleeves of your thin shirt. You place a hand against the cool wood of the latticed window as you leaned in closer.

“Please…I need your guidance, Father. The thoughts have progressed…,” you whispered urgently, your voice like a honeyed lull in his ear. “I have been trying to get rid of it on my own,”

Your full lips parted, noticing in the corner of your eye that he had tilted his head to gaze at you through the latticed opening. You dared to gaze back at him before lowering your eyes shyly from his warm expression. Your name had slipped from his beautiful lips in a hushed whisper, making you press your thighs together to hold back the roaring need begging for you to succumb.

“When was the last time you touched yourself?” he asked, watching as you had leaned in closer. Sweat started to form on his brow as he stared at you, beginning to imagine you sprawled out on your bed while your hand drifted down your stomach before sliding into your cotton panties to stroke your slippery wetness. He swallowed hard, thinking about how tight, creamy and slick you must be in those moments and wished that he could have witnessed the moments of you giving in to your most carnal desire. Your soft, cherry lips open in an excited moan as your hands worked yourself to a release, your hand stretching the fabric of your panties.

“Last night…,” you replied to his question, making him glance away as his heartbeat picked up.  His hands were gripped into fists as he tried to maintain control over himself.

“What thoughts have made you commit such a sin?” he asked, closing his eyes tightly when he heard the very faint sound of a moan escape you. He could feel your want bubbling to the surface and permeate the room. He reached down and shakily gripped a crucifix in his hot hands, looking up as he waited for you to respond. His face felt hot, trying his best to calm his shaking hands.  

“Have you touched yourself…?” he inquired quietly, making your heart stopped at how husky his voice sounded. His eyes were set on you once more and you could see that he was breathing heavily at this point.

“They were thoughts about a person I see all the time. All I could think about is him…and how it would feel to have his hands all over me and running over the place I need him most. Sometimes it’s almost too much to think about, knowing that at any moment, I might be blessed enough to have his lips brush mine,” you spoke, feeling your heart begin to pour out.

He dared another glance in your direction, his heart almost stopping when he saw the look in your eyes. Gone was the sparkle of shyness that usually danced in your irises, replaced with a darkened smolder of want as your hand continued to press against the window. Your fingertips seemed to trace the design of the lattice lightly, moving along every curve absentmindedly.

You both stared at each other for a long moment, only the sound of your combined heavy breathing filling the air. You started to feel a bit self-conscious under his stare, beginning to rethink your confession.

“Y/N…we mustn’t,” he whispered at you, as if he did not want anyone else to hear his words. His green eyes were wide, his face closer to the confessional window. “It’s not right. You know that - ,”

You shook your head with a frown, realizing what you were doing and immediately felt yourself shrinking down into yourself. You looked down, your face feeling hot from shame as he spoke, and you immediately stood up. He paused in the middle of his speech when he saw you rise, following you out of the confessional booth when you left. He reached out to grab your hand, making you look back at him in surprise.

“Wait…,” he started before you shook your head, his green eyes studying you curiously once you paused.

“I’m so sorry, Timothy. I’m sorry. I feel so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done this,” you spoke up, glancing down at your intertwined hands.

“I’m…more so surprised that you have these…feelings for me,” he said with a chuckle, trying to lighten up the mood a bit but the look in your eyes automatically intensified the moment once again.

“It’s hard to deny. Just being near you and around you make me feel good and it just feels different. I always want to feel that way and it has progressed into…this,” you explained, gazing at him with a gentle gaze. You stepped closer to him, reaching out to touch his chest. You held your breath as you did, ready for him to step away from you. You were surprised to see that he stood rooted to the spot that he was in, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. You kept you hand on his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric, feeling it slowly begin to pick up beneath your palm. You blinked once he took his hand from his chest and brought it up to his lips to kiss your hand, placing a kiss to each one of your knuckles. You watched closely, his soft lips moving to kiss around to the inside of your wrist. You gasped gently at the sensitivity, his eyes moving to meet yours again as he pulled his lips back. His eyes slowly gained a hazy look to them as he eyed you, stroking the inside of your wrist as if he wanted to embed the kiss he placed there into your skin.

He reached to cup your cheek, the sensation making you focus on your breathing and your hand clenching at his chest, crumpling the creased fabric in your fist. Timothy seemed to hesitate for a moment, breathing from his mouth as his gaze roamed over your face and down your body.

“God, forgive me…,” he breathed, making you furrow your brows in confusion and hoped that he wouldn’t pull away again

A sharp cry escaped you, your hands moving to grip the sides of the altar as he moved his head from side to side. He let out a ravenous moan, spreading your thighs wide as he continued to devour you. His hot tongue slid from your tight opening and up to circle around your slippery jewel, eliciting a shaky moan from you. He latched his mouth around it, moaning at the taste of you. He used his thumbs to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, moving his lips from you for a moment to watch your wetness drip down your quivering cunt. He moved to lick at every drop that you gifted him, his tongue then moving to lash at your opening before he gripped your ass and pressed his tongue deep inside of your creamy slit.

“Wh--,” you were unable to finish your thought as he pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss, both his hands coming up to cup your face as he did. You were surprised by the action but quickly began to move your lips against his, the desire that had pooled inside of your over time started to come out in that moment. You moved your arms to wrap around his neck, your hand clenching at his dark hair and tugging lightly. He let out a soft groan and moved to lift you, making you let out a surprised gasp before immediately caught yours again. You kissed him back, making sure to hold onto him as he carried you towards the white marble altar. He carefully laid you across the it, the flowers that were laid upon it falling to the floor. His hands moved up your legs, bunching your skirt up to expose your soft skin to him.

You watched with heavy lidded eyes as he parted your legs and was immediately greeted with the sight of your soft thighs and thinly covered pussy, hearing him let out a deep, guttural groan as he buried his face against your mound. He let out a moan as he inhaled the scent of you before nipping at the cotton of your panties that concealed your wetness from his hungry mouth. You shifted against the altar, feeling him grab ahold of your hips and pulled you closer to him. His hand pushed your long skirt up higher to grab at the waistband of your panties. You put your legs up as he slid them off, his hands moving to hold your legs up and together by your thighs before he pressed his hungry mouth to your juicy mound.

You let out a needy moan, his eyes watching in awe as you pulled and tugged the thin, puffed cotton shirt off of your upper half. Your nipples immediately hardened when the air hit them, his eyes glittering at the sight. He moved up to press your breasts together, suckling hard on your sensitive nipples before moving to give the other equal attention pulling a lewd moan from your throat. He slid his tongue between the valley of your breasts with a hungry moan before pulling back. He moved down to roughly pull off your skirt, tossing it on the ground and leaving you completely naked upon the altar. He knelt back down between your thighs, his hands firmly pushing them up and apart.

Hearing you coo out his name as his pink lips pressed against the pulsing jewel made him close his eyes, his cock twitching beneath his soutane. He reached down to rub himself through the dark robes, his hardness straining against his pants. He moaned deeply as he continued to lap at your wetness, obsessed with the taste of you.

You kept them in the position that he set them in, letting out a long hum of pleasure when he circled his tongue up and down the length of your pussy once more before giving little suckles at your throbbing clit.

You could not contain the passionate moans and gasps that left your lips at the sensation, one had moving to clasp over your mouth to try to muffle the sound. You were gratefully that you both were the only ones at the church at the moment. Your thoughts were interrupted when his tongue slid out of you to latch onto one of your nether lips, moaning as he suckled on it like a ripened peach. His green eyes looked up at you, urged on by your moans to continue as his nibbled on you lightly before turning to bite at the soft skin of your thigh, suckling hard to leave a mark in its wake. He licked and suckled his way all over your thighs, nibbling and biting sharply at the smooth skin. He moved back in, slurping up your wetness as he continued to grip and knead your ass. He pulled back with a shuddering breath, his darkened eyes watching you squirm in anticipation of his next move.

“Timothy…,”

Timothy felt your gushing wetness dribble down his chin continued to thrust his tongue in out of you, moaning out as you gripped at his head and made him bury his face deeper into your cunt. He quickly moved his hands down to undo his pants, moaning in relief as he was able to release himself from his pants. He quickly began to stroke himself as he continued to explore your walls with his tongue, his nose pressed and rubbing against your clit. He heard your moans become longer and breathier, making him moan more against you before pulling back. He began to stroke your sensitive clit, licking the taste of you from his bottom lip.

“Oh Timothy…,” you moaned out, unable to recognize your own voice as you called out to him. He latched onto your clit again when he heard you moan out his name again, his needy moan vibrating against you as he began to move his fingers a bit faster inside of you. The sound of your wetness echoing off the vast walls of the church along with your unsteady moans. A hungry moan escaped his lips again, slowly pulling his fingers out of you again before parting your lips again. He buried his face back into your dripping cunt, his tongue sliding in and out of you as he began to tongue fuck you. Your hand remained on the back of his head, clenching and tugging at his black locks as he worked. You shuddered and moaned passionately as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release, his tongue rubbing and sliding against your soaked walls before flitting against the ridged love spot.

“Release for me…please, I want to taste all of you…,” he groaned, continued to press and gently flick your clit and smiling as you twitched under the sensation. You felt something coiling like a spring inside of you, your hips raising up as your body began to tighten as he continued to rhythmically stroke and flick at your jewel. He let out a mewl before he moved to plunge his tongue back inside of you, your mouth becoming dry from your constant moans.

“Yes…yes….,” you moaned out, your walls tightening around his greedy, thrusting tongue as he worked to drive her closer and closer. You suddenly let out a sharp gasp, your hips jolting as you release. He moaned out, his hand swiping and stroking his cock a few more times before he used both of his hands to grip your thighs and held them apart as he licked and slurped down your sweet release. He panted, licking happily at her opening for every ounce of cum that you released. You watched as he stood back up, staring at you intensely as he stroked himself in front of you. Your lips parted, sitting up on your elbows as you watched him. His hand worked up and down his shaft, watching the small pearl of precum form at the tip before his fingers came up to swipe it away as he smoothed around his tip.

“I want to hear you say my name again,” he purred darkly, spreading your lips apart again with one hand as his other hand stroked your wetness slowly. He used one of his warm fingers to press against your wet slit, his lips parting as he watched your wetness glisten against his hand. You whimpered softly, your hips shifting at the new sensation. You heard him murmur at you to relax before he pushed a finger inside of you. You gasped at the new sensation, wanting to clasp your legs together but you kept your legs apart as he invaded her soft, wet walls. Timothy groaned at the feeling of your walls clasping around his digit, leaning up to generously lick at your swollen clit once more. He closed his eyes, moaning to himself as he began to slowly thrust his finger in you. You moaned out, gazing up at the ceiling as tried your best to focus on the sensations occurring between your thighs. The combined colors of the stained windows upon the domed ceiling like a kaleidoscope to your hazy eyes. When he curled his finger inside of you, your hands shot down to grip at his dark hair with a surprised moan. Your thighs tensed as he continued before he moved to push another finger inside of you, moving his fingers in a scissoring motion to open you up.  

He was immediately pulled in by your bright eyes, shy smiles and your will to help others within the church and the charitable tasks that everyone participated in. Yet, he was also ensnared by the sway of your hips, the swell of your breasts beneath your button ups and the soft skin that would occasionally become exposed from your midriff when you would reach for something on a shelf or whenever you would bend down to and your skirt would slide up the back of your thighs. The way you would bite the side of your lip while you concentrate always distracted him or whenever you brush your soft hand against your round throat absentmindedly as you read through scripture. He even would lean close to you in those moments, his nose immediately hit with the scent of your sweet, floral perfume. It was exhilarating and frightening to find you occupying his dreams during the night and silently hoping that it felt real enough just to feel a tiny wisp of your touch on his skin. He had that moment now and wasn’t going to let the moment slip from him.

“Pull your legs up…,” he commanded firmly, making you jump slightly before you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and pulled your legs up against you. You blushed as your pussy was completely exposed to him once again, watching as he stepped forward with a grin. He began to unbutton his soutane, removing the coat before loosening his shirt after. You began to wonder what he would do next, your heart picking up as all of the possibilities floated through your mind. You hitched a breath as you felt a number finger slide up and down your extremely sensitive pussy. The sensation boarded on being too extreme, a hiss escaping your hoarse throat as he teased you lightly. You suddenly felt cold metal touch you, it was rounded, and you let out a cry as it brushed your slippery clit. You heard a dark chuckle escape him, one that was unfamiliar to you. You felt a renewed dark lust wash over you before a sharp cry escape you as he pushed the item inside of you. Your eyes rolled back for a moment as it plunged into you, making you part your legs slightly. A gasp escaped you when you saw the glint of the silver cross slowly pushed inside of you. He left it planted snugly inside of you, flicking at your clit before giving it a light tug with his lips. He laughed softly at the moan that escaped you, moving towards the other end of the altar where your head laid.

He gently pulled you upward, making you automatically let go of the back of your knees. You kept your legs apart, moaning at the sensation of the cross shifting inside of you. Your head hung off of the altar, watching as his legs moved as he walked back around to your bottom half. You moaned out he made sure that the cross stayed planted inside of your soft, wet opening. Timothy moaned as he could see you pussy clinging at it. You felt his hand brush against your stomach and breasts as walked back around to your head. You felt slightly lightheaded; your lips parting as you watched him exposed himself to your eyes. You studied his veiny shaft, the light pink tip leaking before he took a hold of the base of shaft and brushed against your pouty lips and chin. He traced your lips with the tip, hearing him breathing heavily above you.

“You’re so beautiful…,” he breathed, a groan following quickly behind as his cock twitched in his palm. He looked at your body for a moment, taking in the sight of your bare flesh and immediately thought of all the times he has imagined this before. It was inappropriate, it was sinful, it was all of the things that shouldn’t run through the mind of a man of God but, he was still a man. He knew that dedicating his life to a purpose such as this at a young age would come with its temptations and when he first met you, he knew that you were one of the lures.

“Open your mouth,” he spoke in a raspy tone, his accent heavier than before. You moaned lightly before parting your lips for him, moaning as he plunged his length into your mouth. You closed your eyes tightly, feeling his hot hand grasp lightly at your throat as he slowly thrusted into your mouth. You heard a series of heated moans leaving his lips. Your tongue slid on the top of his cock as he thrusted, clenching your throat tighter. You moaned, your hips twisting slightly as he continued. The sound of his soft praises met your ears, making your moan around his cock. You gagged once he gave a hard thrust, lodging himself in your throat and swallowed around his thick length. You struggled to breathe as he leaned over you, a whimper escaping you as he gave your wet mound a light smack. You moaned loudly around his cock, your eyes clenched tightly as he began to move it inside of you for a moment before giving your pussy a couple of harder smacks and making another muffled cry erupt from you. He gave your wet, suckling mouth a couple of hard thrusts before finally pulling out. You let out a gasp, breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. You obediently opened your mouth again for him once he came back, groaning as he began to thrust into your mouth once more, his tip moving to enter her throat once more. His hands moved to grab at your breasts, roughly kneading them as he thrusted hard into your mouth. You gagged and coughed around him, focusing on his loving, passionate words and mewling moans through the act. You did your best to take it, his slick cock sliding in and out of your mouth.

“Oh Y/N…,” Timothy moaned out, rolling his hips to plunge his shaft deep into your throat and holding it there. You felt the saliva from your efforts rolling down your face, making you close your eyes tighter. You breathed through your nose, gagging loudly and hearing him groan out as your throat muscles clasped at him. He gave your throat a hard squeeze, making you let out strangled yelp around him. A loud hiss escaped him as he gave you several short yet hard thrusts deep in your throat before suddenly pulling out, gasping again and coughing to catch up with the needed oxygen. Your face was soaked with saliva as you slowly sat up. Your limbs were shaky as you kept your sore legs parted. You moaned as he pressed Timothy pressed his lips roughly to yours, pressing his tongue into your mouth. His tongue swirled around yours before suckling on your tongue lightly, pulling back after. He gazed at you with heavy-lidded eyes, stroking your cheek.

Timothy smirked softly, gently using the cloth from his pant pocket to wipe the mess from your face. He leaned in to give you bottom lip a little suckle and another peck on the lips before leaning his forehead on yours. Your eyes gazed into his green orbs, staring deep into your eyes.

He smiled wider as his hand went between your legs to slowly pull the cross out of your pussy, seeing that he was completely coated with your essence. He moaned as he looked at it, bringing it to his lips to lick away some of your juices while staring into your eyes. He leaned it towards your lips and you immediately opened your mouth to suckle at the warm juices that leaked down the cross. Timothy’s smile faded as he watched with a parted mouth, his swollen lips reddened and wet with your essence. He pulled the cross away to press his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply once more and moaning softly when he could taste you on your tongue.

He threw the cross onto the ground as you parted, nibbling on your lip briefly before grabbed you and turned you to bend over the altar. You let out a soft moan, your hands pressed against the polished marble of the altar. Your arms were shaking as you waited for his next action, feeling him press a strong hand against your back to make you arch. You instinctively stood on your tiptoes, feeling his hands knead and rub your ass once more. You focus on the wall in front of you, feeling the cool metal of his belt brush against the back of your thigh as he got close, his heat radiating against your back side. You let out a hoarse moan, feeling him slowly press himself inside of you. You heard a loud moan leave him as he stretched your walls, his grip on your hips becoming rougher as his fingers pressed into your soft skin. Your hands balled up into fists as you felt his hips press firmly against yours, his shaft settled deep inside of you.

He slowly pulled back before rolling his hips forward, giving you a deep thrust before setting into a punishing rhythm. His hands kept ahold of your hips, the sound of his pants and deep groans filling air as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t hide the passionate moans that left your lips, trying your best to stay up. Timothy took note of this and grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping you up as he began to thrust harder into you, his hips smacking against your ass.

“Oh yes…,” he moaned deeply, giving a sharp tug at your hair to pull another loud moan from you. He slammed into you a couple of more times and let out a loud moan of pleasure, your cunt gripping his cock firmly. He gave gentle pat to your behind before pulling out, making you lay down on the altar once more.

He grabbed your legs and positioned them over his shoulders, his cock aiming at your drenched slit before slowly pushing into you once more. You watched his face as his eyes rolled back, feeling him rolling his hips against you before pulling back to start up a thrusting rhythm once more. His hips smacked hard against the back of your thighs as he slammed into you, a crying moan living your lips as he continued. He grabbed your hips, helping you meet his thrusts as he continued to plunge into you. His eyes widened as you reached down to rub at your already sensitive clit as he thrusted, a whimper escaping him as he watched your circled your clit and gently rubbed it in time with his thrusts. The sight made him thrust harder, locking eyes with you when he felt himself getting closer to his release. His hand slid up your belly to grip at your throat, clenching firmly as he pounded into you roughly. You kept eye contact with him, feeling his cock throb inside of you. Your moans becoming more and more intense as he continued to roughly handle you. You let out a soft cry as you came once again, your walls rippling around his shaft. You gasped as he clenched your throat tighter at the sensation of you releasing around his cock, giving you a few more hard thrusts before giving you one last hard thrust and kept himself burying himself inside of you as he came hard inside of you.

A loud groan left him, giving shallow thrusts as he emptied himself inside of you. You felt the warmth of his seed spread inside of you; the feeling was comforting in a way. You both stayed intertwined before he slowly lowered your legs from his shoulders. You winced lightly at the sensation, but he handled you with care, making sure not to make your legs swing.

“Come here…,” he whispered as he opened his arms to you, making you slowly sit up to accept his embrace. He leaned down to give you a passionate kiss, nuzzling his nose against yours after. He smoothed your hair back from your face, kissing your forehead before rubbing your arms gently to warm you when he noticed you shiver and gave you another warm, long embrace. He gathered your clothes for you, being gentle as he possibly could with your sensitive body. You felt so special, as if you were made of priceless porcelain with the care that he made sure to give you.

Timothy looked at you with a warm admiration after you both fixed yourselves up. You were carefully as you stood up, his seed still warm in your belly as the vibrant rays of sunlight began to rise and change the color from its former lavender to a true blue as the morning began to come in with renewed life.

“Will you be attending service today?” he asked softly as he walked with you, making you smile at him.

“Maybe,” you responded quietly, glancing over at him. A broad smile broke over his face as he rubbed your back before quickly, chastely pecking your cheek again and stroked your chin lightly. He bit his lip as he looked at you, glancing at the window furtively when he saw cars pulling up to the church, signaling the early risers arriving. He sighed inwardly, not wanting the moment to end. He knew that you probably wouldn’t come to service but wanted to make sure to see you again today.

“See me later then? I want to do this different. Properly…,” he asked quietly, grabbing ahold of your hand momentarily and continued to stroke your chin. You smiled sweetly at him before quickly nodding in response, feeling him squeeze your hand firmly in promise of what was to come before you both parted ways until the moment you would be in each other’s arms once more.

 ♡