#and knowing exactly how to be there for her through that

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fic: Copyright

The first time it happened, the Waynes were walking around a street market, glancing at the art, when a woman wearing a Red Hood jacket and drinking out of a Red Robin coffee traveling mug struts by.

The heroes stop to stare, more in shock, to see how well the two items are done, which grabs her attention.

She grins at them, waving her cup. "You guys like the bats? You should check out both nineteen. He sells all official stuff."

"Official?" Dick repeats.

"Yup. He has it all trademarked." She says, pulling out a business card. She hands it to Dick with a smile before bidding everyone goodbye. Babs reaches up, snatching the card from Dick's slack hold, pulling out her phone to research the name.

Babs hisses through her teeth when she finds out that, yes, whoever the artist is, they did, in fact, trademark their designs. But not only did they cover their art, but they also put a copyright over the idea of all the Gotham heroes.

"He copyrighted Batman!?" Tim demands, reading over the baby's shoulder. "The symbol, the technology, the fighting moves- his shadow!? How!?"

"No one else did," Bruce answers with an amused smile. "He probably realized this and decided to slap one on while he had the chance."

"He can't do that!" Tim shouts. "Batman should sue him."

"Kinda hard to take someone to court regarding vigilantes." Dick shrugs his shoulders. "The Bats are illegal themselves, and they didn't copyright before this guy did."

"He owns Robin!" Jason announces with a laugh.

"That son of a-!!" Dick shouts, twisting around and stomping down the booths. People who recognize them jump out of the way for the raging celebrity. The rest of the Waynes were right behind him, a few slightly surprised by the pure anger on the eldest face.

Not Bruce or Jason. They see and personally know Dick's rage.

"How dare he try to claim Robin!" The eldest hisses, rounding the last row and stumbling to a halt. The rest are unprepared for his sudden stop, so they stumble into his back.

Grunts of pain and slight soft swears are heard as the group tumbles over onto the ground. Dick is unfortunate enough to end up on the bottom, feeling the total weight of his family. He's pretty sure Bruce's elbow was digging into his lower back, and Tim's head had slammed on the back of his neck.

Maybe Alfred was right about them going on a stricter diet. Ouch.

"Get up this instant. We are ashamed of the family name." Damian hisses from where he is standing above them. Of course, Cass is next to him with a cheerful smile.

Both of them had danced out of the collision in a way that appeared accidental to the untrained eye. Bruce likely let himself fall because he enjoyed causing scenes as Brucie Wayne, no matter how much he denied it.

"Dick." Jason groans, taking the hand Cass held out for him with grace. "Why did you stop?"

"Look at both nineteen." Dick hisses feeling Tim delibertly dig his elbow into his back. His brother offers him a sweet, innocent smile that does not hide the anger in his eyes. Sometimes Dick wonders if anyone can spot the pettiness in Tim or if his madness hides it.

"Oh," Steph whistles when she hopes off of Bruce to stare at the booth owner. "Yeah, I get it. He's hot"

"No!"Dick shouts, rising up from the ground. There is horror in his voice that makes the Bats all tense. "No, he is not hot. That's disgusting Steph. Look at him. Tell me who's face that is."

It's Bruce who spots it first. "I have more chidlren?"

Damian gasps. "Father, you have more blood, children!? How did you recognize him, Richard?"

"He looks exactly like Bruce at that age." Dick hisses, leaning closer. "The Titians and I met Bruce when he was sixteen during a mishap with a time wizard. I may have pretended to be a butler sent to Wayne Manor for training to get access to the cave. The cave was the location that we had to use to go home."

"That was you?" Bruce demands. "I thought that was an idiot who was in love with Alfred."

"Ew, why?"

"You kept complimenting his cooking, doing chores for him, and trying to take him out for a fun night in town!"

"Well, excuse me for wanting Alfred to have a week's vacation from the broodiest and most troublesome teen!" Dick shouts, throwing his arms in the air. "You were literally hissing at him whenever he told you to bathe!"

"I didn't like water back then!"

"Hey guys?" Jason cuts in. "Tim left."

Both men swing to stare at the second eldest with twin looks of confusion. "What?"

"Tim. He's over there. Yelling at kid-Bruce." Jason points to where a crowd is slowly building around them. Tim is in a screaming match with the owner. There is a lot of hand-waving, faces turning red in anger, finally ending with the owner throwing himself over the Red Robin merchandise with a protective little snarl.

Tim reels back and punches him in the face.

"Oh shit," Steph sighs, running towards the both as the owner is quick to tackle Tim. The Waynes find it odd that they must show off their bat training to break the two apart.

And that's how the Waynes get on the front cover of almost all media coverage that tells the story of Danny Fenton (Wayne). Bruce's second secret love child with a married woman (Jack and Maddie had briefly opened up about their marriage back then, so neither was mad) and who had met his biological father after a public fight with his adoptive brother.

Danny would like to go on record as saying that he was unaware of why Tim cared so much that he saw a fantastic business opportunity and took it. It's not like Batman could challenge his copyrights, and if the crimefighter came for his kneecaps over it, he would find himself against the Ghost King.

True the Ghost King in name only, but the Bat didn't know that.

Danny will be honest if asked how he felt about finding out Bruce Wayne is his father. He already knew. When he was around twelve, his parents sat him down and told him. It was how his dad explained where babies came from, the genuine Welcome To Puberty! Talk and what open marriages meant—which was as horrific as it sounds—and they never bothered with it again.

Because Jack Fenton had been the one to raise Danny, he had been the one who held him after his mom gave birth and had been the one who loved him with all his heart despite not being blood-related.

He had a bigger reaction to having to fist-fight Tim Drake over the fact he made Red Robin the official LGBT+ member of the Bat family because he is bi, no matter how much Tim insists Red Robin was straight.

It sounds to him like Tim is deep in the closet and in denial. Bisexual Red Robin forever!

[surgepricing]

I think about Azula shooters often and their common refrain of "if Azula hadn't had a mental breakdown, she would've won" and I'm here to tell you that no, she wouldn't have.

There is no universe in which Azula was winning that fight with Zuko (or Katara, for that matter).

Azula spent so much of Book 2 being built up as this deadly terrifying force against whom the heroes are badly outmatched that it can be difficult to catch exactly how quickly Zuko is advancing.

Back up a bit to Book One. For the fearsome exiled crown prince of the Fire Nation, Zuko's not that impressive a firebender. He's not bad by any stretch, and he's able to lay the untrained Sokka and Katara flat pretty easily. Then he gets in the ring with Aang, who is an airbending master, and the difference between a regular bender and a master becomes apparent when Aang literally puts his ass to bed:

People have attributed this to the fact that no one's fought an airbender in 100 years, but I think it's also worth noting that Aang (a 12 year old from a pacifist nation) has probably never fought anyone before. Like, ever. And yet the second Aang thinks "okay, I'll attack back", the fight's over.

Zuko's got the same genetic predisposition for firebending talent that Azula does, yet it never seems to manifest because of his mental blocks. At the beginning of the series, he's already so beat down that all he really has is conviction, pride, and anger, so even with training from Iroh (the firebending master, thank you very much), he struggles. Yet throughout Book 2, when he has no time to train because he's on the run, he actually seems to advance faster. The fact that his bending is literally tied to his character arc (as his morals become tangled and he has to fight off aforementioned mental blocks) is pretty brilliant. Like, by the time of the Crossroads of Destiny, Zuko getting his ass handed to him by Aang is a pretty consistent feature of the show--he just can't match wits with him.

Hell, at the beginning of the series, he and Iroh (again: the actual firebending master) launch a combined power surface-to-air attack...which Aang casually swats away into a nearby ice wall. Come the Crossroads of Destiny, however, and Zuko by himself launches this bigass fireball that blows through Aang's defenses.

Zuko advances so quickly that it's scary. That prodigious talent is in him even if it doesn't come through as cleanly as with Azula. Who, by the way, was busy about to get flattened by Katara some few dozen feet away, until Zuko took over and then effectively stalemated her himself.

All of this in retrospect makes it abundantly clear why Zuko's firebending seemed to skyrocket so much when he learned true firebending from the Sun Warriors: it was really the only thing left. He's hard a hard road learning how to fight waterbenders, earthbenders, and airbenders, and even if unconsciously, he's applying the philosophy Iroh taught him about augmenting his bending style with aspects of other styles (see also, the waterbending-like fire whips he uses in the above gif). Once he actually understands fire and how it works, he's got it mastered. Hence why any gap between him and Azula effectively disappears as soon as their next fight--before her friends have betrayed her and her stability goes out the window. There's no real sense of urgency to their fight at the Boiling Rock prison. True, Sokka's presence with the sword helps, but Zuko doesn't look remotely worried and he counters Azula's every attack perfectly.

All her life, Azula only ever learned fire. She was taught by the best people the fire nation can employ, so she knows all the cool tricks, but she's still poisoned by the corrupted firebending practiced in the modern ATLA timeline. Unlike Zuko, who managed to get the basics if nothing else from Iroh (fire comes from the breath, and can be used to survive as much as to kill), Azula has always used fire as a weapon and a means to hurt others. She has no true knowledge of the craft, meaning she's got the same weaknesses as Zhao, she's just better disciplined to the point she can make up for it.

Zuko's victory was a given considering Azula's complete loss of control by the time of Sozin's comet, but even had she been in a perfect mental state, she'd have lost, because in many ways Zuko is simply the better firebender.

And that's the truth of it.

[6esiree]

Blotting The Excess Lipstick Off With Their Help

Imagine you blot the excess lipstick off your lips with Alastor’s, Lucifer’s, Husk’s, and Adam’s help? The original ask was cute but you know I had to have my fun. Thanks again, Lurker <3

Alastor:

From his peripheral vision, Alastor watched you smack your lips together between a tissue paper, his ears twitching in frustration as the noise penetrated his ears. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did, abandoning his whiskey and getting up from the barstool. With a silent precision, the man approached you, grabbing ahold of your jaw and leaning down to meet your gaze.

“Um, is there something you need, Al?” You asked, lowering your hand, your eyes nervously darting between his face and his sharp claws.

“What is all that dreaded noise you’re making, hm?” Alastor asked, tightening his grip on your jaw, the static in his voice overwhelming. “I’m waiting.”

You quickly said ‘I’m blotting off the excess lipstick,’ a curious hum escaping Alastor’s throat, observing the red product on your lips. While the man knew nothing about makeup, he couldn’t help but notice how cakey it looked, moving his hand to your chin to press his thumb on your lower lip. Your breath hitched as you watched him pull away and scrutinize the red stain.

“Well, you’re doing a very poor job,” Alastor tsked, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment, but that didn’t stop you from challenging him.

“Why don’t you help me instead of criticizing me, then?” You said, pressing your lips together, trying to even out the product.

“And how am I supposed to help, exactly?”

Pissed off, you grabbed his face, crashing your lips against his. You didn’t close your eyes as you gauged Alastor’s reaction, and neither did he, stunned by your audacity to touch him and better yet kiss him. When he noticed the smug look in your eyes, however, he hoisted you up into his arms and sandwiched you between himself and the wall, reciprocating the kiss tenfold.

You yelped as Alastor bit your lip, almost puncturing it with his sharp teeth, his tongue slithering into your mouth. As surprisingly good of a kisser he was, you wouldn’t allow yourself to enjoy it. Your hands traveled up his nape, fingers carding through his hair until they settled on his ears. Now it was Alastor’s turn to yelp, his eyes flying open as you tugged them back.

“That’s for being an asshole,” You said, but then he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head, pushing his crotch against yours. “Fuck, wait—“

“Oh, darling, I suggest you save your breath,” Alastor hissed, relishing in the sight of you helplessly wriggling in his grip.

Just to his luck, Charlie came downstairs, asking around for Alastor. Because he couldn’t be seen actively antagonizing one of the other residents, he relinquished you, watching you scamper off to your room with a tight smile on his face. When Charlie found Alastor, she blinked, asking him why his face was smeared in red. ‘I cannibalized somebody,’ he said, brushing past her to seek you out when she had nothing important to tell him.

Lucifer:

How long had Lucifer stared at you for? That’s what he wondered as he sat on the couch in the parlor, his leg bouncing, the sound of your approaching footsteps exacerbating his anxiety. He hadn’t meant to cause you any discomfort, but the sight of your red lipstick gliding across your plush lips had utterly entranced him, only snapping out of it when your eyes met his.

“Is everything alright with you?” You asked, your eyes darting to the spot next to Lucifer.

“Oh, no! Wait, I mean…yes? Yes! Everything’s alright with me,” Lucifer quickly said, straightening his back and clasping his hands together on his lap. “Go ahead—nobody’s sitting here.”

You plopped down on the couch next to him, his breath hitching at the feeling of your thigh against his taut one. He was looking everywhere except at you, but you weren’t having that. Nope, not after you had caught him practically admiring you. You grabbed Lucifer’s chin, encouraging him to turn to you, savoring the way his skin flared up underneath your fingertips.

“You know, I think I may have put on too much lipstick,” You said, your thumb caressing his lower lip, pulling it down to reveal his teeth. “Care to help me out?”

“I, uh—how so?” Lucifer stuttered, his throat bobbing in anticipation as you slowly leaned in. “I don’t have…anything of use on me.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Trailing your hand down to his jaw, you tilted his head, capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. Lucifer was stunned, but only for a moment, especially as your other hand found his thigh, squeezing it in an attempt to procure a reaction out of him. And you did, his mouth falling open with a pleased gasp, allowing you to slip in your tongue and make a mess out of him with your lipstick.

With a little bit of encouragement on your part, Lucifer brought you onto his lap, groaning as you unashamedly suckled on his tongue. The room was starting to get hot, his pants growing tighter due to the filthy slurping noises that emanated from your kiss; but the distant sound of Charlie’s voice served as a painful reminder of your surroundings.

“Thanks for helping me out, you’re a real lifesaver, Luci,” You parted from him, hastily moving off of his lap, patting down your clothes.

“Oh, yes, of course!” Lucifer said, crossing his legs and wiping the excess lipstick off his face with the inside of his sleeve. “If you ever need help again,” He snapped his fingers, a large grin on his face, “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”

You sucked in your lips, placing a hand over your mouth as you went upstairs to clean yourself up, brushing past Charlie. She opened her mouth to ask where you were going, but then she saw her dad, his lips slightly tinged red. “Hey, dad, what happened to you?” Lucifer merely shrugged, mumbling something about having tripped and fallen, and she would’ve believed it if you hadn’t yelled, ‘Yeah, on my face!’

Husk:

Mindlessly swirling a bottle of cheap booze in his hand, Husk stared into the parlor with half-lidded eyes, bored out of his old, drunken mind. That didn’t mean he wanted anybody to bother him, however, quick to shoo off Angel when he tried to talk his ear off about shit he couldn’t care less about. He was simply waiting for his shift to be over, but that was still so many hours away.

“Hey, Husker,” You said, his ear moving towards the direction of your voice.

“What d’ya want?” Husk sighed, bothered more by that dreaded nickname than your presence. He didn’t correct you, though. “I’m sorta busy right now—can’t ya see?”

You sat on the stool right across from Husk, staring back at him with your lips pressed into a fine line. He observed the way they slowly moved together, but you didn’t pique his interest until you pursued them, revealing the bright red lipstick you were wearing. They matched the shade of Husk’s wings, and you could tell he noticed by the way his pupils dilated.

“Oh, I just needed some help blotting off the excess lipstick,” You said, leaning over the countertop. “Do you think you could help me out?”

Husk sighed, fixing to grab a napkin for you before you could say anything else, mumbling something about not being your ‘fuckin’ maid’ and whatnot. You couldn’t help but chuckle—he had no idea what you had in store for him. When Husk turned around, you snatched him by his suspenders, the countertop digging into his stomach as you pulled him towards you.

“Here, just use this—holy shit,” Husk yelped. You were close, so, so close, your breath warming up his typically cold nose.

“I didn’t ask for a napkin.”

You slotted your lips against Husk’s before he could respond to you, the napkin in his hand falling to the ground in surprise. While he didn’t reciprocate the kiss, he also didn’t pull away, allowing you to blot your lipstick on his mouth. But then you pressed your thumb on his chin, a groan escaping his throat as you encouraged his lips to part, staining the inside of his mouth.

Husk reached out to cradle your neck, his claws leisurely traveling up your nape to grab ahold of your hair, pulling it and tilting your head sideways to kiss you back. He swallowed your sigh of gratification, his sandpaper tongue tangling with your smoother one, the once silent room filled with the sound of your lips wetly smacking together.

“You shoulda just accepted the napkin, doll,” Husk said, parting from your lips when he heard someone descending the stairs. “You look like a goddamn mess,” He continued, his eyes glued to your mouth, “The pretty kind, though.”

The man’s pristine white fur was stained with your red lipstick, but apparently, you weren’t faring any better. With Charlie approaching the bar, you couldn’t do anything about it—or so that’s what you thought. Husk tried to wipe off the evidence from his mouth with a rag as he slid you a beer, telling you to hide your face in your arms. ‘Bad day, huh?’ He gruffed, all while his lips were still tinged in red, your eyes squinting in amusement.

Adam:

Most days, Adam sat at his desk, watching you diligently scribble away with your pen right across from him. The man loved action, not paperwork, so he hired you to deal with all the boring, day-to-day stuff, occupying himself with his phone to pass the time. But today? Adam was too distracted by the sight of your lips gliding against each other, teetering along the brink of insanity as you made annoying smacking noises.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” You mumbled, shooting Adam a glare over your shoulder as you got up from your chair to grab a manila folder.

“Hey! Wait a minute,“ Adam said, looming over the desk and grabbing your wrist, stopping you from leaving. “You’ve been doing that shit with your lips since, like, the fucking morning! So you can’t blame me for staring.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve said something about it earlier!” You said, exasperated, but then you apologized. “I’m sorry, I just forgot to blot my lipstick before leaving for work.”

As comfortable as you were with Adam, he was still your boss, and the last thing you wanted was to get fired. He quickly forgave you, though, releasing your wrist as his eyes darted to your lips, so red and plump. In his opinion, there was nothing wrong with them, almost kissing you through his mask when he leaned in to get a better look. Your lipstick was cakey, you told him—but what the hell did that even mean?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, they look fine to me,” Adam shrugged, slowly blinking when you said that they didn’t feel fine.

“Here, why don’t I show you?” You said, rounding the desk and pushing Adam down onto his chair.

You straddled Adam’s hips, hooking your fingers underneath his mask and removing it before he could register what you were doing. ‘Hey, you better not put no fucking makeup on me,’ he stuttered, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you revealed the unruly set of hair on his head. ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ you said, cradling his cheek and capturing his lips with a kiss.

Adam groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your waist while he eagerly reciprocated the kiss. You were only supposed to blot off the excess lipstick on his lips, to show him how uncomfortable the multiple layers of product felt, but when Adam’s tongue swept across the seam of your mouth, you forgot what you originally set out to do as you granted him access.

“I still don’t see the problem,” Adam said, diving back in and suckling on your tongue before you could utter a single syllable.

Things were starting to get heated between the two of you, but of course, someone had to come knocking at his door. You instantly parted from Adam’s lips, hopping off of his lap and scrambling to make yourself presentable. It was then that the man cursed, but not at the interruption—his lips were smeared with your red lipstick, and the product felt heavy on him. He put on his mask with a sigh, mumbling that you were right.

[fakevalentine]

abby fucking reader and making ellie watch perhaps 😽

female reader x ellabs + cuck ellie nsfw under cut <3

the initial agreement between the three of you was to just fool around— test the waters and hope it didn't completely ruin your relationship with ellie, and friendship with abby.

but things dont always go to plan

and before you know it, youre face down at the end of your bed, abby fucking into you from behind. your sheets, the same ones ellie had laid you down on the previous night, now ruined and stained with tears, sweat and arousal

abby's big hand slides up the arch of your back and into your hair, tugging your head up. your heavy eyes land on ellie sat against the headboard. your poor girlfriend.

her face was flushed, chest rising and falling at a fast pace. she looked so pretty, so fucked out despite hardly being touched.

her hands gripped the sheets she sat on, her tattoo flexing and veins pushing from under her skin. her eyes, pupils dilated, stare at the lewd scene in front of her. she felt the pit grow more and more in her stomach.

but she didn't know what it was— regret, resentment, or lust. maybe all of them. it didnt matter, she continued to watch her friend fuck her girlfriend brainless.

you sob as abby leans over you, her eyes boring into ellie's. her muscular arm curls around your neck, pulling your body up so your back slouched against her chest.

ellie curses when your body is exposed. she admires the way your boobs bounce with each thrust, your thighs soaked and face messy. she's envious, her scrunched up freckled face is on fire as she watches abby's hand slip between your thighs to toy with your clit.

"ellie—" you hiccup, tears rolling over your cheeks. you feel bad. you feel bad because of how turned on you are, because of how much you're enjoying this. you love ellie, so much. but you knew you would crave this again, with or without your girlfriend.

and now you're confused and guilty, it churns in your stomach alongside another orgasm. so you cry.

abby kisses and sucks on your neck, her free hand groping your body. "tell her how good it feels..." it's like she can read your mind, knows exactly what you're feeling. "tell her how bad you need to cum, baby."

you moan loudly, holding onto abby's arm around your neck and digging your nails into her skin. a part of you actually wants to hurt her for the torment.

ellie's eyes water, her hand moving to palm her cunt through her pants... oh you can't. you can't tell her that, even though its true.

but ellie— ellie nods. she nods desperately as she humps her hand. "tell me."

:P

[artdcnaldson]

whoa imagine patrick and art teaching how you how to blow them next? and then they like take turns with you giving hands-on demonstrations of how they think you’d like to be touched and fucked and taken care of? it’s not exactly a competition but they both want to do better and make you feel better than the other so it kind of is

Yeah 😌🩷

Rating: E (18+)

Warnings: Patrick x Reader x Art throuple dynamics, blowjob lessons <3, guys being pervy little manipulating snakes (affectionately)

A/N: I’m obsessed. Everyone say hiiii sex lessons au. Unedited sozz

You get week of you jerking one or both of them off whenever you’re alone together until Patrick decides to test the waters.

“You can put your mouth on it,” he says, when you’ve taken him into your grasp, nice and slow while you kiss him the intense, hungry way he’d taught you.

Your eyes widen slightly, and he swears he can hear your pulse thrumming.

“Patrick,” Art says, a warning. He’s on the other end of the bed, trying his best to study for a midterm while his friend is getting jerked off three feet away. He’d sit on the floor… but he’s ready to hop off the bench the second you or Patrick invite him to play.

Patrick rolls his eyes in annoyance. Art was so fucking dense sometimes. He knew Art wanted it just as bad, probably more because he was so goddamn repressed. He knew Art always wanted the same things he wanted, no matter how depraved, or how embarrassed he was to admit it. “What? I think it’s about time she learns to suck cock.”

“Jesus Christ, Pat,” you say with a nervous laugh. His lips quirk slightly. He fucking loves how embarrassed you can get, how one dirty word makes you hide your face like a shy little virgin. You were shy, but he was working on that last part.

He grins, runs a thumb along your bottom lip. It’s slick with spit, swollen from kissing him. God, is it such a crime that he wants those lips wrapped around his dick? “C’mon, you’ll like it,” he says, brushing his lips along your jaw, right below your ear. “You like jerking us off, right? It’s even better.”

You nod, leaning back to meet his gaze. “Will you show me?”

Patrick glances over at Art, who has pushed his textbook and notes out of the way entirely. “You heard her, Art, come show her.”

“Jesus, you can ask,” Art says, face scrunched in annoyance. You know there’s know malice, though— he wants it just as bad. You shift off of Patrick’s lap and sit beside him, where you get the perfect view of Art between his thighs. He tugs the brunet’s boxers down his thighs, tosses them absently across the room.

“Pay attention, honey,” Patrick tells you. He runs a hand through shaggy blond curls, making sure you watch as Art places wet kisses to his tip. Patrick moans, impatient, but relishing in the way your mouth falls open slightly, how your eyes widen.

Art opens his mouth wider and slowly eases Patrick’s cock inside. It’s wet, messy. Drool spills from the sides of his mouth, down the length of Patrick’s cock. It gathers at his base, drips down his balls. You watch Art’s cheeks hollow as he takes him deeper, how his eyes fill with water.

Patrick’s fingers press against your lips, pointer and middle, seeking entrance. You open your mouth and let him push his fingers in— salty like skin and sweat. It isn’t until they’re in your mouth that you realized how long they are, as they slip towards the back of your tongue and your mouth fills with spit and you gag. Patrick withdraws his fingers, stringy with spit, and grins.

“Try again for me— try to take ‘em deeper.”

Patrick’s riding high— your lips wrapped around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of your mouth, Art sucking his dick like a champ— he can’t ask for much more.

“Are you paying attention to Art?” You gag slightly as his fingers nudge the back of your throat, eyes stinging with tears. You shake your head and redirect your attention. “Look how deep he can take me. You’ll be able to do that soon, won’t you?”

To demonstrate his point, he pushes Art down by the back of his head, makes Art gag and moan around the intrusion. “Use your tongue, baby.” Neither of you knows who he’s talking to, so you both follow the order.

He keeps both of you there for god knows how long— laving him with attention. Art looks right at home, lashes splayed against his cheeks, head bobbing as he works Patrick’s dick. And you, eyes wide and starry with the need to impress him, to take advantage of all he could possibly teach you. I mean, fuck, he could tell you to jump and you’d ask how high.

He lets his best friend bring him to the edge, feels so deliciously close that he loses himself in it.

“Fuck, Art—“ Patrick cries out, tangling his fist into the blond’s hair for purchase. “Your fuckin’ mouth is something else. C’mon, take me down your throat. That’s it—“

Patrick comes with a groan, spilling down Art’s throat. Art, to his credit, swallows down everything Patrick gives him before pulling back, lips swollen and slick.

Patrick slips his fingers from your mouth— strings of spit connecting the two. He wipes his fingers on your cheek, pats it twice before dropping his hand.

“Think you can handle Art?” He asks with a grin. “He’s smaller than me, it’ll be easier for your first time, huh?”

Art slaps his arm, hard enough to leave a mark. “By fucking half an inch you asshole.”

Patrick rolls his eyes with a knowing smile, but doesn’t dig. “Alright then, Donaldson, whip it out. Her mouth’s fucking watering for it over here.”

Art scowls, but the thought of you sucking his dick is enough to smooth over his mildly bruised ego. He makes quick work of shucking off his clothes and leans against the headboard beside Patrick.

God, someone should take a picture. You’re settled between his legs, on your knees so your ass is up when you bring your mouth to Art’s cock. Your tongue peeks between your lips and you give a few testing kitten licks to his tip.

He moans, soft and pretty. You feel hands in your hair, petting you almost. You blink lazily, peering up to look at Art as you place slow open mouthed kisses to his shaft.

When you take him into your mouth, you feel his grip on your hair tighten, just enough to make you gasp. He’s warm and heavy on your tongue, salty with precum.

Even going slow, you can’t manage to fit much of him in your mouth. You gag with each attempt to take him deeper, eyes watering before you pull off and gasp for air. They watch your valiant efforts, getting off on the fucking filthy sounds of you gagging on Art and the sight of spit spilling down his cock.

“Here—“ Art says, taking one of your hands to wrap around his base. “Just follow your mouth with that. You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

“First fucking time he’s ever had to say that,” Patrick says with a grin. Art punches his shoulder hard enough that the brunet yelps.

With your hand attending to what doesn’t fit in your mouth, it’s easier. Art’s so easy to get worked up— so easy to bring to the edge. Patrick’s mouthing at his throat, and Art tilts his head to grant him more access. He always complains after about the marks— Art always bruises easy, like a fucking peach. 

“Just like that,” Art praises. It doesn’t feel like you’re doing a great job, but he looks like he’s having a real fucking nice time. “Keep going, baby. Doing so good.”

“We’re teaching her, so teach her,” Patrick says after he grows bored of the slow, sweet head you’re giving the blond. Patrick’s hand moves to the back of your head, pushing you further down until your throat constricts instinctively and your eyes widen in surprise.

“I know you can take more. Just need some exposure therapy. Breathe through your nose— that’s it— good girl.” You will yourself to relax, to center yourself. He didn’t push you far, just enough that Art is brushing against the back of your tongue.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you swallow around the intrusion, making Art practically whine. “F-fuck Patrick— let her up—“ he groans. It’s then that Patrick moves his hand, letting you pull up and get a large gulp of air. Your face feels hot, your jaw aches slightly.

Art brushes your hair from your face tenderly. “Keep your mouth open like that, okay?” You nod, let him rest the head of his cock on the center of your tongue. He replaces your hand with his own, jerking himself off quickly, methodically.

You nearly flinch as the first rope of cum hits your tongue— warm, salty, thick. You’re caught off guard by the sheer volume of it— you’d felt it coat your hand, but it’s different when it’s spilling directly onto your tongue. He’s panting as he finishes, and you’re left sitting with a mouthful of cum. You swallow it like bitter medicine, like you’d seen girls do in porn.

“How was it?” You ask Art.

“Good for a first try,” he says. “We’ll let you practice, get you ready for when you get boyfriend.”

A/N: Tashi incoming <3 imagine her reaction when she finds out these boys haven’t been making you cum 😵‍💫

[authorhjk1]

hii! this is my first time sending something like this, but I want to secure Karina for color blue. I mean, look at her in that dress. it literally screams EASY ACCESS. besides, her official color is blue. gotta give it to her fosho

Blue

(Karina X Male Reader)

Your girlfriend's moans echo through the room as you drive yourself deeper into her. She is leaning against one of the arcade games, her back pressing against the screen.

"I can't take it anymore!"

Karina whines as you keep groping her tits over her dress.

"Please, baby! Let me cum!"

She closes her eyes, determined to not cum without permission. But it becomes harder and harder for her.

"No. Admit it first!"

That's the whole reason, why you're railing her into the machine behind her.

"A-Admit what?"

Karina tries to play innocent. She knows she is wrong, but she would never admit it. Not in a million years.

"I'm gonna use you, until I brake you."

You growl at her, annoyed by her antics.

"As if."

A yelp escapes her mouth shortly after her reply.

"Oh trust me. I can go until tomorrow morning."

To make your point, you reach for the straps of her dress. Pulling them off her shoulders, you start to undress Karina, while you keep fucking her hard and fast. Her legs are wrapped around yours, the heels of her white shoes dig into your lower back.

Her dress has already been bunched up around her waist, when you started to fuck her. And now, you pull the upper part of her dress down. You expose her tits, earning another moan from her.

"I-I can't hold it in anymore."

Karina sighs, begging you to give her a break.

You eventually give in. You thrusts slow down as Karina tries to catch her breath. Your hard pounding will make it difficult for her to walk comfortably tomorrow.

Just when Karina lets her guard down, you lean forward capturing one of her nipples with your mouth.

"Oh my god."

A deep groan escapes her mouth as she feels your tongue flick against the light brown nub. You have your way with your girlfriend's chest, occasionally switching sides. Soon, her nipples are covered in your spit. She is barely able to hold on as you keep moving inside of her. You go very slow, but you are still dragging your cock along her walls.

Karina starts to repeat your name again and again as you begin to work towards your former pace. Your face is still buried in her tits, you thrust forward, rocking her against the machine.

"I-I'm gonna cum!"

"No!"

You speak into her chest and for a moment, it seems like she didn't hear you, but then you feel her taking deep breaths, trying to push through her pleasure. Due to your tortures licks and thrusts, a small puddle has formed on the ground, right underneath Karina. Her juices drip off your cock, whenever you pull out halfway. And her head rolls back, whenever you bury yourself to the hilt inside her snatch.

"Fuck, Karina."

You are starting to approach your own orgasm. Your girlfriend's tight pussy doesn't give you much of a choice. It has an unbreakable grip on you. You can feel how even more blood rushes towards your cock, making it even harder as your body starts to prepare itself.

Karina must feel it too. Her moans and whines grow louder yet again. She knows that, if you cum inside of her, she won't be able to hold back her own climax. And that's exactly what you are going for.

"You make such a pretty cum dump."

You tease her, wanting to humiliate her, after what she has done. Karina tries to grasp onto the last straw of self-control and honor she has left. You feel her tighten around you as you throb inside of her. Your hands roam her naked skin, your lips peppering her upper body with kisses.

"Oh god, Karina."

You growl into her ear, sending goosebumps down her spine.

"Alright! Alright! I admit it!"

Her eyes are shut tight as she is too embarrassed to look at you.

"I-I'm the one who ate your ice cream."

"Knew it."

You whisper into her ear as you slowly leave her pussy. Only your tip touches her lower lips. The both of you stare into each other's eyes. Your next thrust is the final one.

[igotanidea]

Haircut: Jason Todd x reader

Inspired by the post from @pop-culturereference about what Jason's fans really want from DC (link here)

***

„AH!!”

An involuntary scream left her mouth the second she came home. Jason was not used to his girlfriend being so expressive, but protective instinct kicked in as he jumped off the couch he was reading a book on and immediately rushed to her side.

“Y/N! Love, what happened?” his hands found hers, squeezing them gently, trying to ground her in reality and assure her that whatever scared her so much was no match for him.

“What happened to you?” she sobbed, not even trying to stop the tears running down her cheeks.

“Huh?” Jason frowned “Look, I know I’m not exactly model handsome, but—”

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!” she wailed as if someone was tearing her heart out or squeezing her lungs.

“What are you--?” he tried again, quite taken aback by the intensity of her emotions. She wasn’t ever crying this much when he came home bloodied and bruised. She never let a single muscle on her face twitch while  patching him up. But when he was okay, just chilling and for once – not getting into trouble she got into a waterfall mode. “Y/n? Look at me. Look at me!” he grabbed her chin and forced her eyes on him.

“I AM!”

“Then you can see I’m all good. It’s all good! Come on baby, whatever fear took over your brain, you have to wake up from this!”

“Your hair!” she broke into crying fit again

“My hair?” he instinctively ran his fingers through his strands. “What about them?”

“WHERE IS IT?”

Oh.

Oh, so finally they were getting to the bottom of the problem.

He cut his hair shorter than she was used to and clearly she didn’t like it.

“Look, I just thought-“

“Was it Roy? I’m sure it was Roy. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him! How is it that I leave you guys for a few hours and you always end up causing trouble.”

“It was not—”

“Then who was it? Dick?”

“Ugh! As if I would ever let him anywhere near my head!”

“Then who helped you did this atrocity?” she pressed, taking a look at his inch-long strands.

“I did it myself.” He responded, almost sounding proud.

“You-you-yourself…?” Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she stuttered. Her bag was dropped to the ground with a concerning sound of rattling, but neither of them care about the possibility of something being crashed. They had more urgent matters at the moment. The sense of betrayal slowly started creeping inside her heart.

“It’s just hair—”

“Just hair?! Are you insane?” she snapped at him “You should have asked me what I think first!”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me, Jason! You’re my boyfriend! It is not just about what you like! You can’t just act on whims without finding out my approach to the matter!”

“It’s just hair—” once more, the poor attempt at reaching her reason failed.

“How am I supposed to run my fingers through it now? And how am I supposed to live without your mop tickling me when we cuddle?”

“Y/n…” he smiled softly, cupping her cheek, meeting her eyes

“I liked them longer… I’m sorry if that hits your insecurities, but—”

“It does make me a little unsure, not gonna lie.” He chuckled. “But only a little. Cause what I’m hearing now, is that you liked my wilder look. For example when I was taking the hood off and have my hair all ruffled? Or when I was –”

“I see what you are trying to do here, Mr. Todd and I’m not falling for it.” Y/N read right through his intentions to invoke an innuendo and tried to step back.

“Come on, baby.” Jason quickly grabbed her waist, circling arms around her like two snakes, preventing her from backing out. “Admit it. You liked the bad boy image I had. It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Well it doesn’t anymore—“

“Guess that only means, I’ll have to try twice as hard… Cause too bad for you, sunshine, my hair is gonna stay like that for a while. So you have to like it. “

“Oh really-?”

“Most definitely. In fact, I think I’m gonna ditch the longer hair for good. This kind of haircut is so much more practical, you know. No strands sticking to my forehead when we get sweaty. None of them in my eyes when I fight only in the domino mask, no tangles and all that stuff-“

“You’re terrible!”

“Yeah, yeah I am, and what are you going to do about it baby?” he smirked and leaned forward, giving her a teasing look “you love me either way, we both know it.”

“Well maybe I should cut my hair too.” Her eyes glistened with mischief “you know- to match your new style.”

“What?” Jason turned a little pale. His princess was going to get rid of her perfect locks?! Over his dead body! (Even if that meant dying again.) “You are not!”

“Too bad for you I already made that decision. In fact I’m gonna go to the hairdresser first thing tomorrow—”

“I won’t let you out of here! You can’t just make such important decisions without talking to me first!”

“But I just told you.” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“And the answer is no!”

“It was not a question.”

“You are not cutting your hair. It is not only yours! It’s mine too! We’re a couple, practically like one being!”

“Well maybe if we attach some of mine to your head we can both have what we want?”

“I got a better idea. I’ll keep you trapped here for as long as mine grow back, how about that?”

“And what shall we do for so many months Mr Todd?” she hummed with a glint in her eyes.”

“Duh! I’ll make sure to convince you that the length of my hair is not the one that should be of your concern, baby…” Jason smirked letting his hoarse tone reveal what was on his mind.

Was he acting like a hypocrite? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Cause one thing that was absolutely sure about Jason Todd that there was only one like him in the world. Capable of twisting the words in a way that always turned the situation a little less serious. And whatever hairstyle he was sporting, she was not going to change him for anyone else.

[lucid-loves]

simon slowly falling in love with reader after hating her for a long time⁉️

Sorry this took so long! I hope you enjoy it! ❤

Nuclear Date Night

Pairing: Ghost x 141!reader (fem!reader, weaponsengineer!reader, codename: Byte)

Word Count: 12.8k, One-Shot

CW: strong language, mention of violence, hate to love relationship, rivals, competitive, competence, realized feelings, smut, body praise, deep kissing, licking, fingering, biting, p in v

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: Ghost hates your guts. Even since you joined the team as their new weapons engineer two years ago, he’s hated you with his whole chest. With your high and mighty attitude, bewildering intellect, and unwavering confidence, he can’t stand you. You hate him too with his unreadable face, demeaning protection, and lack of grace. When an undercover mission requires the two of you to get closer, though, the both of you realize your hate for one another has turned into something else entirely. 

You ignored the icy cold glare the lieutenant kept on your figure as you explained how the new sniper-focus worked. Your comrades stared at your invention in wonderment, once again reminded just why you were part of the team. Thanks to your countless all-nighters and delicate hands, you managed to invent a focus that can attach to any sniper, calculate notches and wind speed, recommend the gun-adjust accordingly, and hit a target perfectly with over 98% accuracy. No matter the distance, no matter the weather, your focus powered with A.I. calculated assistance can kill any target. 

Everyone was impressed. Save for Ghost. 

“Aim at the target, give it a second to calculate, and then listen to the adjustment with the earpiece. After that, just adjust the aim and fire. Pretty simple stuff, really.” You demonstrated, large sniper in hand. 

The wind blew through your hair, dust coating your strands like moth to a flame. From a distance, a whipping dust devil was forming across the golden sands of the desert. It was dry, it was hot, and it was windy as hell. It was the perfect place to demonstrate your brilliance. 

When you joined the team two years ago, you knew that you had to put your heart and soul into this job in order to be taken seriously. You weren’t especially muscular or tall. As a soldier, you did train for instances of defense in case it was needed, but your true power relied on your smarts. A rather overlooked sign of an excellent soldier that often invited ridicule from the more traditional soldier. 

That’s exactly what Ghost did when he first met you. 

“You sure this shrimp can handle herself? Be one of us? She looks like she can barely lift a spoon without straining her wrist.”

You bit the inside of your cheek at the memory, muscles tensing as if you were in that moment once again. The memory of your response quickly took over. 

“Are you sure this meat-head can handle my science? He looks like he can barely use a blender without getting confused by all the buttons.”

You both left a bitter taste in each other’s mouths that day. The taste has lingered ever since, tainting nearly every interaction you had. It was a wonder how you haven’t killed each other yet. 

Setting up the sniper, you prepped for the real demonstration. While you did final adjustments to the focus, you called over your rival. “Ghost, test this for us.”

“Why do I have to be the guinea pig? I don’t need a fucking robot to focus my aim anyway.” He protested, every cold tone in his words deliberate. 

The team shifted uncomfortably, even after all this time still not used to the spats the two of you got into. Attempts to resolve the bad blood have always failed. It was easier to just let the two of you spit your fire until you ran out of fuel. 

“Alright then, tough guy, you can aim without it. Go ahead, hit the target.” You nonchalantly agreed, confident that things were going to go your way this round. Ghost noticed that easy acceptance you gave, his eyes narrowing at you as he tried to figure you out. What was your game this time?

Not one to back down, he approached the sniper and aimed it normally, your focus set to default. No robots, no artificial intelligence. Just plain-Jane markers for distance. Looking through the scope, Ghost looked for the little red flag that indicates the location of the fake target used for practice. After a while of looking at nothing but sand, he spotted the target just past the dust devil. 

He would have to account for that. You planned for this. No wonder you insisted on dragging them all out to this dry wasteland. He clenched his teeth, blood simmering as you tried to make him look like a fool in front of his team. Backing away, though, would make him lose this game. Shooting and missing would also give you the victory point. Either way, both scenarios made him look incompetent.

God, he fucking hated you. 

Suppressing a malicious smile, you antagonize him. The feeling of beating him made your heart race in excitement. “Any day now, Ghost.”

He hated the way you drew his name out like that. The way you so easily said it like it was nothing but air to you. Like bubblegum being blown and popped at your will. His name should’ve struck fear and intimidation. Instead, you chewed on it. Popped bubbles with it. 

Aiming the scope, he lined up his shot, and fired. Watching the bullet carefully, he saw it shoot forth with speed right on the dead center of the target, whip back from the dust devil, and hit sand with an explosion of grain. 

It took everything in him not to fucking leave right then and there. 

“Good shot if you planned on missing. Now, use my focus.” You continued to tease, twisting the knife further into his already wounded pride. There was little snickering coming from his men, Gaz and Soap not being able to contain themselves. They would admit that sometimes your fights were funny. It was a way to cope with the discomfort it brought. 

Silently, Ghost switched on your focus. Out of the side, a small earpiece ejected out. He took it and fitted it into his ear under the mask. Of course, you programmed the artificial instruction with your own voice. Serious, stoic, and purposeful. “Awaiting aim to calculate.”

He aimed once more at the metal target using the scope, the dust devil blowing the sand around violently to protect it at all costs. The scope projected its calculations as if he was staring at a screen. Within a few seconds, it completed its estimations. A green dot appeared way over to the left and bottom of the notches, marking the shooting point. Your voice rang in his ears. “Target confirmed. Aim and fire.”

This seemed way off. There was no way this could be right. Was he really meant to aim so far off? The green dot stayed perfectly in place as he adjusted the aim, his center notch in line with your tech’s mark. He hoped that it would miss.

He fired and watched the bullet sail through the air, ride with the dust devil like a wave, and hit the target with perfection. He became slack-jawed bewildered at the precision. The fact that it could calculate aim with even an extreme factor such as swirling winds was undoubtedly impressive. 

This was your clear victory. And he hated it. 

You relished in his fiery disdain of your genius. A small smirk played at your lips as you saw just how the rage froze his muscles. He looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“God damn, Byte! That was phenomenal!” Soap loudly praised, his eyes wide in true marvel. The others agreed, all wanted a turn to use that focus of yours like it was a new toy. Every invention that you gave them has felt like a new toy. It made those days feel like Christmas morning. You were great at your job and they couldn’t be happier to have you on the team. 

Of course, except for Ghost. Even if your engineering prowess was the best in the world. 

“Really great work, Byte! Are the blueprints all ready to copy?” Kate smiled appreciatively while tapping on her smartpad.

“All ready for production.” You simply answered, proud of the work that you had accomplished. Another one for the books. 

While the boys played with their new toy, Ghost stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. 

He hated everything about you. Your unmatched intellect, your confident plays, your arrogant personality. He hated that his team was wasting money on technology for weapons when a true soldier shouldn’t need the handicap. Real skill was earned by yourself. Not with the assistance of technology. It should be a tool, not a crutch. 

Ghost believed that people who couldn’t aim a sniper on their own and hit a target didn’t deserve to be snipers. And you just made him unworthy of being a sniper when against your tech. 

You looked up at him, taking note of how hard he threw daggers at you. You made him look stupid, and that was your goal. It felt like you had the world in your palm when you did. Someone as respectable as Ghost being bested by a brainiac was always the best. You proved that you didn’t need muscles or height or even intimidation to be better. You just needed your smarts. 

A huff of a laugh escaped you as you turned away from him, knowing that that would just make him even more angry at you. Good. 

You hated everything about him too. 

~

“What you do really is modern magic. Seriously, Byte, how does your brain come up with such things?” Gaz inquired, raising a bottle of beer to his lips. The team decided to celebrate your new invention at the usual bar. Of course, your drinks were on them as a reward. They knew that you put a lot of work into what you did. The least they could do was pay for your rum and cokes. 

You raised the cold glass to your lips, the sweet and spicy cocktail hitting your tastebuds. “The pros of being a genius. Thank you for the praise. It feels nice to be appreciated for my work around here.”

That last past was said a little louder, loud enough to make sure that Ghost could hear it on the other side of the bar. He bit his tongue and rolled his eyes at you, not willing to open himself to any more of your antagonizing today.

The victory was as sweet as the drink you were nursing. Addictive too. You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of success. When you finished an invention, when you helped your team complete a mission, or when you bested Ghost, they all gave you that sweet sense of accomplishment. 

Soap slung his arm around your shoulder, nearly causing you to spill. He was already a couple drinks in. “Yeah yeah yeah, good work! But all we ever talk about is work. Been two years, Byte. Tell us what that genius does outside of work, huh?”

You shifted in your seat, becoming a little uncomfortable with the sudden questions about your personal life. They knew tidbits here and there about you. Some failed relationships, favorite songs, distaste for certain foods. But your answer to all of that was usually straight-forward. “We broke up.” “I like this song.” “I’m not going to eat that.”

Something that the team noticed early on was that you were a workaholic. You hung out with them on rare occasions, you were usually confined working in your lab while they had offices, and you usually departed events early to be in said lab. Besides minor details, they really didn’t know much about you outside of your work personality. They have been trying to pull you more out of your shell over time, but it was a slow process. 

Gaz frowned at Soap’s bluntness. “Come on, Johnny, leave her alone tonight.”

“It’s fine, Gaz.” You put your glass down roughly, the clink of the glass on polished wood sobering Soap up pretty quick. It made Gaz look away in shame. That was at least one thing they knew about you most intimately. You hated being treated like you can’t take care of yourself. When they stepped in on your behalf, answering a question that was meant for you, it made you want to hit them. You knew they only did it to protect you. That you were one of them and this is how they treated one of them, but you could never let it be. 

You didn’t need anybody to stand up for you. You will make that a point for forever if you had to. 

The air grew thick with tension as you silently scolded them for hitting one of your pet peeves. With a sigh, you caved in, wanting to restore some of that fun from before. “What do you wanna know? Anything is on the table.”

Soap’s face lit up like a match to a gas station. “Seriously?! Anything?”

You gave a little nod and braced yourself for the worse. Soap’s lack of personal boundaries was quite well known. It was coming from a place of genuine curiosity and ease, never ill-intent. It was just one of the quirks of Soap that you were still coming to terms with even after all this time. 

“Well. . . what’s your sex life like?” 

Gaz began to choke, coughing on beer stuck in his throat. Price tapped his back to help him out, his sharp gaze falling on Soap for such a personal question. Yet, he didn’t say anything. He knew that if he did, you would get angry at him. He has been pretty good about avoiding your pet peeve and he didn’t want to break his streak.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself. You weren’t expecting such a blatant question either, despite inviting this kind of open question. It didn’t mean that you weren’t going to be honest, though. That just wasn’t the kind of person you were. You never stepped away from a challenge. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Soap grinned widely, happy to talk with you finally like you were just like one of the guys. “Body count? Preferences? All of it. I wanna know what a genius views sex as.”

Slowly, you drank the rest of your rum and coke before signaling for another one. While you hailed the bartender, you noticed that Ghost was staring intensely at you. He hated you, but even he was curious on how anyone could tolerate you enough to sleep with you. 

Once you were halfway through your second drink for some liquid courage, you began to talk about one of the most personal details of your life. “Body count of five. All men. Most were one-night stands or sex-friends.”

You liked sex. There was no question about it. At least, you were interested in it. Despite the amount of people you’ve been with, they always left you wanting more. It was always a little unsatisfying when they were finished. It always felt like there was a black hole inside of you that needed the right meal to be satisfied. 

The exact reason why was no mystery either. Unless you were masturbating alone, you never came. No matter how much time and effort went into foreplay, none of your partners have ever made you orgasm. 

Just because your sex life was active didn’t mean it was great. 

“Wow, that’s a little surprising.” Gaz admitted, finally over his coughing fit. Price shook his head, a little embarrassed to hear about his men talking about sex so freely with you. As a captain to a group of mostly boys, he has shared details with them to bring the group together. It felt a little strange to have you participate in this. Even Kate wasn’t pressured into sharing such details. 

“Our little genius gets some then! How is it? Any experience noteworthy?” Soap persisted as he ordered another round.

“Not especially? Average, I suppose.” You shrugged, answering the questions becoming much easier the more you poured rum and coke into your system. Warmth crept along your cheeks, blossomed in your ribs. You felt yourself opening up like a dormant flower. 

You ordered another drink. Soap continued to pry. “Average? What does that even mean?”

“I never came before.” You suddenly blurted out, the blending of your naturally blunt personality and alcohol turning into a pretty dangerous combination. It seemed like the rum in you was getting to your brain faster than you thought. 

This time, it was Soap’s turn to choke. Gaz was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to comfort your plight. Ghost just stared as if he was watching the news. However, his mind was thinking all sorts of things. He wanted to mock you. Say that that was what you deserved for being so arrogant about your intelligence. He felt the instinct to trash talk you to recover some of the pride he lost today. 

Yet, he couldn’t. In fact, he began to feel a foreign pity for you. If you knew that he was pitying you over something like this, you would absolutely rip him a new one. That didn’t stop his eyes from softening for just a moment, though. A moment that you noticed with those sharp eyes of yours. 

Finishing your drink, you slammed the glass on the counter, nearly shattering it. How dare Ghost look at you like some tragic whore! So what you never orgasmed from sex! You were doing just fine when it came to solo-sex escapades. You didn’t need anyone to satisfy you. You only needed yourself. “I do perfectly fine when I masturbate. Don’t get it twisted. Other people just don’t satisfy me. It’s whatever.”

In a simmering fire, you got up from your chair and left the bar for the night, leaving your teammates wondering what the hell got you so worked up all of a sudden. 

Only Ghost knew the answer to that. 

~

Arriving back on base on your motorcycle, you headed straight to your lab. It was quiet. The dead of night. Everyone else was either back home, sleeping in the barracks, or partying it up downtown. You had an apartment to go back to, but you always found yourself coming here instead. 

Settling your helmet and jacket on the coat-rack, you made yourself at home. Dim-emergency lights softly illuminated unfinished projects on tables. Pieces of wires, circuits, and bolts littered every corner of the room. The place looked small and cramped during the day, scientists and engineers squished together in a lab that was second priority compared to the more athletic-based facilities. In the night when no one was here, the place looked like a tech graveyard. Vast, dark, and cold. 

You headed towards your usual workstation, a large workshop desk that was overflowing with unfinished blueprints of inventions that haven’t panned out just yet. A lot of the struggle came from lack of funding. Some of it came from unrealistic expectations. Science was an investment, something that most military dogs failed to realize. It’s why you always pushed yourself to work constantly and prove what the proper time and resources could bring. 

You were essentially killing yourself in order to make them see the worth of your department. 

Looking through the blueprints, you settled on one that was worth revisiting. A Russian Doll bullet that would save ammunition and materials to build said ammunition. The idea was to invent a bullet that would be compatible with most firearms, shoot an outer layer of bullet without shooting out the inner layer, and repeat until the last of the bullet is gone only to be replaced by another Russian Doll bullet. 

It would effectively turn a six-shooter into a twenty-four. It would save so much ammo and save many soldiers the reload time. 

The only problem you haven’t solved yet was the instability of gunpowder. 

That’s what you decided to work on tonight. Taking a seat in your worn out swivel chair, you opened your drawers and pulled out your materials. Bringing a magnifying glass close to you, you began to disassemble a few bullets. It was always a good idea to build things by first taking things apart. 

As you worked, you heard the sound of the lab door open. It was still much too early for the morning crew to come in, so you wondered who it could’ve been. Maybe Price had come to lecture you about how you left things at the bar. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to talk to you about your temper. 

Turning around, you were surprised to meet your rival, peering over all of the electronic corpses on the tables. He didn’t come here very often. You were always here after all. He knew you were always here. He shivered, noticing just how chilly it was inside the lab. The air conditioning was running on full blast. “Feels like a meat-locker in here. How can you work like this?”

“What do you want?” You sharply retorted, nerves already on edge at his presence. The lab was supposed to be your refuge. Your paradise. And here came the snake. 

“Relax. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk to you about the focus.” He treaded carefully, his own instincts waiting to fire off like they were used to when he was with you. A lightbulb in his head just went off just then. He realized just how bad the relationship between the two of you was since his first real instinct was to yell at you. Ghost knew you felt it too. 

He was supposed to be the 141’s Lieutenant. He was supposed to bring the team together for his captain. And here he has been for two years, trying to push you out. 

Ghost has never even approached you without the intention to fight or yell or demand since the first day he met you.

Christ, was there any recovery from this? Ghost took a deep breath, trying to choose his words carefully for once. “The focus is great. You did a good job.”

“Don’t fucking pity me.” You snapped, turning back to your desk and igniting sparks as you bonded metal with heat. A hurricane brewed in your chest. Did he seriously come all this way to pity you? The gaze in his eyes should have been enough. It made you leave the bar!

Ghost felt that fire rising in his throat, wanting to say something back that would hurt you. Old habits die hard. It was a tough pill to swallow. “I’m not trying to pity you. The focus is going to help a lot of soldiers. It’s going to save a lot of people.”

You paused, unsure if his words were genuine or misleading. You’ve fallen into that trap before, hearing what seemed like a compliment only for it to be backhanded. It was unfortunate that you didn’t trust a word that came out of his mouth. “Why did you look at me like that at the bar?”

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but he wished he didn’t. He didn’t really want to talk about your sex life when it was just the two of you. Especially not when the two of you haven’t even had one decent interaction with each other. Goosebumps prickled all of his skin, his teeth nearly chattering. How could you keep it so fucking cold in here?

“I felt sorry for you.” He admitted, finding himself unable to lie to you or change topics. At least from the beginning, he has always been honest with you. 

As you heard the words you loathed to hear, you put down your tools, hands becoming too shaky to handle them with all the rage storming inside you. “I-”

“I felt sorry that no one has liked you enough to satisfy you.” 

Well, that didn’t exactly sound right.

Your mouth opened in shock at his dig. His eyes widened as he heard the words coming out of his mouth, realizing that it sounded completely fucking wrong. He held his hands up in defense, scrambling to explain himself before it was too late. 

The hurricane was in full swing, though. But instead of bringing thunder, it only brought rain. The corners of your eyes prickled with tears before streaming down your flushed cheeks. A lump choked in your throat choked the air out of you. You thought you could say something hurtful back. You always did before. But this time, his words cut a little too deep.

None of your relationships have lasted long. Not even with people you agreed to just be sex-friends with. They always ended up leaving. Whenever you asked what went wrong, they always blamed it on your demeanor. Your personality was too particular. Your interests were too complex. Your high expectations were too much. 

It was one of the reasons you kept a distance from the 141. They loved your company as far as you knew. But only in small doses. Who knew what would happen if they really spent time with you? They would probably get sick of you over time too. Ghost hated you since day one after all. 

No one liked you. You thought that you were fine with that at this point, but clearly you weren’t.

Ghost stood frozen in time, completely taken aback by your sudden tears. He expected screaming. He expected hitting. He expected icy retorts. That’s all he has ever known you as. He never in a million years expected tears. 

It made him feel like he was the biggest piece of shit on the planet. And the worst part was that he didn’t even know what to do about it. 

All of his years of hatred for you melted away as he watched you crumble, your distrust for him putting up more walls between the two of you. Jesus, how does he fix this now?!

“Byte, I-”

“Don’t you think I already know that no one likes me? You think you’re the first person to hate my guts?!” You spat, some of the lightning finally coming out. The tears kept coming, but it was somehow better for Ghost. He felt more used to that dangerous spark you had. It made you easier to approach now. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. Poor choice of words. Honest. I just meant that. . . I . . . Everyone deserves to be loved enough to the point of satisfaction. You work hard and give us countless advancements to use. You deserved to be satisfied. You deserve to have someone that will put the work into you too.” He finally managed to find the right words, nearly running out of breath with all the effort he had to find them. He was never really good at heart-to-hearts. 

You looked at him in shock once more as he attempted to salvage the hurt he caused you. This was beyond confusing for you. Your brain that worked so hard everyday, that could think up a million things at any given time, was at a loss for words. 

In your uncertainty, you followed your instincts. And that was to turn back around to your desk, wipe your eyes, and get back to work. It was the only constant in your life that you could rely on. The best way to think. 

Ghost didn’t blame you for returning to work. He probably wouldn’t know what to say either if it was him. Instead of pushing it any further, he decided that it was probably best to leave. Before he headed out of the lab, he turned back and looked at you. 

You did the same, the moment of work gracing your senses. In the end, he did try to pay you a genuine compliment. You were always the type to reciprocate fairly. “Thanks, Ghost.”

There was a certain way you said your thanks that made Ghost’s heart skip a beat. A sense of gentleness that he’s never heard from you before. The way your eyes shone bright from leftover tears had him stunned. Were your eyes always that pretty?

He turned quickly and left, the back of his neck heating from the intrusive thought he just had. As he walked back to the barracks, he sighed. The air outside was much warmer than the environment of your lab. So much easier to breathe. It felt suffocating being in there. Out here, he could let his mind relax.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of you. 

~

The two of you didn’t fight as much anymore. Sharp words slipped out every now and then, but neither of you kept feeding the fire once they were said. Most of the time, you two were just back to avoiding each other. Though, the both of you had your own reasons. 

You found yourself just at a loss of words when he was civil. It was that distrust that still lingered that made it hard for you to interact with him. It was especially difficult to be around him when he was actively being polite. Praises for your work, helping you carry heavy boxes across base, or prioritizing processing your submitted paperwork was always done either curtly or in silence. It was foreign to you.

And the energy you saved now that it wasn’t spent on fighting was now put to use by noticing him a little more. You always couldn’t help but stop and stare as he helped carry equipment with you from the lab to the armory. The way his biceps flexed with ease at the heavier load. The way his eyes remained stoic even as he embraced your inventions. Ghost was now more on your mind than ever, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Ghost, on the other hand, was now always thinking about you. He felt the urge to get closer to you. To get to know you better. To help you out in a way that didn’t look down on you like he’s always done. He couldn’t stop thinking about your eyes too. How bright they were under the sun or moon. How they watched him under such careful supervision, trying to decipher if his good will was real or not. 

Even in moments where he didn’t want to think about you, he found his mind wandering anyway. Ever since that night in the lab, he felt his feelings change. Two years of anger and resentment for you have nearly melted all away only to be replaced by something else. And he didn’t know how to explain it. 

All he could do was try to keep cool. Remain civil. Avoid too close of interactions with you. 

It was working for the both of you for months until you were assigned to a mission together.

The team had noticed that the both of you were getting along in the loosest sense of the term. They wondered what caused such a shift, but they never asked out of fear of resetting the apparent progress. Instead, Price tried to push more progress by assigning the both of you to work an undercover mission. 

A wealthy investor of nuclear weaponry was suddenly pouring a lot more money than usual into a country with a rising dictator. The investments coincided with less threatening ideas such as climate change prevention and DNA study in order to balance out interest. The goal was to detain this investor, question him about his relationship with this dictator, and then hopefully stop a dangerous man from getting his hands on advanced nuclear power. 

The way in was at a formal event promoted by the science community. Conservationists, biologists, engineers, and more were going to be present to try to win over some other wealthy investors that would be there including celebrities, CEOs, and politicians. It was a high brow event which made the need for scientific knowledge apparent. 

And who knew more about such science than you?

Intimidation invitations in hand, Ghost waited in a hotel lobby, a crisp, black tuxedo hugging his form as if tailored to him. The skull balaclava was swapped with a simple black face mask, covering enough of his identity which made him feel better about all of this. Looking at a nearby mirror, he checked his blonde hair. He’s never dressed so formally in his life. 

He suddenly wondered if you would like it. 

You still need a moment to get ready, always one to check twice to make sure you had everything you need. Your heart raced in your chest, your nerves tingling with adrenaline as you prepared to see this mission through. You’ve been on the field a couple of times. Never under-cover. The fact that you would probably have to do most of the talking made you nervous. 

People didn’t like you. That weakness of yours was clouding your confidence. Being a woman in science was already a tough world. Would you be able to keep your personality in check if you faced such a conflict?

Nervously, you headed down to the lobby, adjusting every dress each step of the way down. When you spotted Ghost from a distance, you froze. You have never seen him so cleaned up before. When you were coming down, you half expected him to appear like he always has. Military uniform, skull mask, strapped with obvious weapons. 

You didn’t know that his hair was so. . . 

Finding yourself at a loss for words again, you steeled yourself. As you got closer, you realized that your heart was racing for an entirely new reason. Your lieutenant was much more attractive than you thought. 

And he was technically your date for tonight.

Ghost caught your figuring in the corner of the mirror, making him turn around. Time stood still for you once again as you appeared before him looking like someone straight out of a romance movie. Your dress hugged your curves in all the right places, every strand of hair was styled beautifully to frame your face, makeup only highlighted just how beautiful you naturally were. 

How could he never see just how beautiful you were before?

You walked closer and cleared your throat, that voice he thought was so annoying before now sounding like the sweetest violin. “Lieutenant, you look good this evening.”

This was the first compliment he’s ever received from you. It made his stomach do flips. What was happening to him? Pull it together!

“Thanks. You look great tonight. Ready?” He offered his arm, waiting for you to take it. 

Your heart could barely take it as you looped your arm around his, touching him so intimately for the first time. Heat radiated from his body. The biceps you found yourself staring at before felt solid under your touch. You looked up into his eyes, the glacier blues melting into a deep ocean. Looking away suddenly, you attempted to hide your blush. He was looking at you so intensely that it startled you.

“Do you have to stare?” You questioned a little too sharply than you intended. You braced yourself for him to say something equally sharp, something Ghost felt in your arm that was hooked around his. 

He averted his gaze, now conscious of the way his eyes naturally followed you. His mind searched for an explanation for his lack of discretion. The unexplainable pull that you had on him. Jesus, it was like he was. . . 

Oh. Oh no.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, trying to keep his feelings in check. How could he spend two years praying for your downfall to all of a sudden being-

He didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t even want to entertain the likely possibility. Even if he wanted to act on his feelings, did he really deserve to after all the fighting for two years? You would probably never truly accept him after all the things he’s said and done. You weren’t completely innocent either, but Ghost had to face the fact that he was the one that started it all. Before even knowing your name, he insulted you, unable to keep his opinion on tech in weapons in check. A matter that wasn’t even your fault to begin with. 

What the hell was wrong with him back then? What the hell is even wrong with him now?

“Hey, Earth to Ghost. You okay?” You asked, noticing how he seemed to be just staring into space as they waited for the car to pick them up. There was a brightness in the night, a rain having just finished its pour. Puddles on the ground reflected the city’s lampposts, cars flashed their lights, and much to Ghost’s dismay and pleasure, your eyes shined replaced the stars. 

His voice was deep and agitated, more so upset with himself than with you. “I’m fine. Just nerves.”

At that you smirked that devilish smile that he hasn’t seen in a while. It pissed him off to no end before, but now it made his heart flutter. “Wow. The great Lieutenant Ghost has nerves. Never thought I’d hear that. Makes me feel a lot better, though.”

“And why is that?” He inquired carefully, almost afraid to hear the answer. 

You shrugged, actually starting to feel at ease for the first time in his presence. The butterflies were still there. They were just much more manageable now. “I am nervous as well.”

Before he could question you further, the designated car pulled up in front of the hotel. Gaz, parading as the chauffeur for tonight, got out of the car and held open the passenger door for the both of you to get in. Soap wanted to do this job, but Price refused. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to shut his mouth if he saw the two of you together like this. Gaz at least had a filter.

He played the role to a tee, onlookers staring as he took off his hat and bowed. “Good evening. You both look dashing tonight. Especially our lady.”

The cover was working smoothly. Together, they really looked like A-list people. The civilians would have never guessed that they were all just soldiers. Drinking in their looks, you let it replenish your confidence. You got into the car followed by Ghost, Gaz shutting the door once everyone was settled. As he drove to the venue, he went over the mission details. 

“We’ll be keeping an eye on you the entire time. We have access to all the venue’s cameras and we have mics hidden throughout the building. Some security is our own too to keep an eye on things. This place will be packed full of civilians, so violence must be kept to a minimum. Non-existent preferably. If anything does go wrong that we don’t notice, use the codeword.”

You nodded at all of the information that will keep you safe, reading the mission file to brush up on before the big show started. Ghost looked over your shoulder, also reading the file once again. Mostly though, he noticed how intensely you studied. You didn’t want to be the reason why this mission failed. You couldn’t afford that. 

When the car slowed in front of the venue, you looked out. At least a hundred people were outside, dressed to the nines, ready to spend their money or ask for money. Your blood suddenly became cold as you looked at all the people. There must have been hundreds more inside.

Gaz parked the car and stepped out, getting ready to open the door for you. However, you were a statue. Unmoving. There was panic in your eyes. You looked the part for this. Could you talk the part too?

A warm, large hand landed on your shoulder, gaining your attention. Ghost looked at you with steady eyes, his tone slow and soft as honey. “You got this, Byte. You’re probably smarter than everyone here. I’m right by your side too.”

It was relieving hearing those words come from him. He was encouraging you like he was your lieutenant. Like you were part of his team. Your heart swelled as you looked into the eyes you’ve been trying to avoid. It looked like he was finally seeing you after all this time. 

With a deep breath and a new steely expression, you nodded to Gaz through the window. He opened the door and Ghost stepped out first. You took the hand he offered you and came out, the buzz of intellectual conversation in the air. 

Gaz drove off, leaving the mission to the two of you. Ghost led the way up, your arm in his like it was always meant to be there. Miraculously, the two of you looked like the ideal date. It made getting into the venue easy as Ghost handed over the invitations to the guard at the entrance. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Have a fun night!”

The both of you couldn’t help but blush at the shared name. To be referred to as Mrs. Riley gave you ideas that you never thought you would think about. It strangely had a nice ring to it that made your senses prick up. 

Ghost thought the same thing as he guided you in. Tonight, you were Mrs. Riley, his beautiful and intelligent wife. 

The two years of hating each other seemed to feel farther away as the night stretched on. 

The marble floors were packed with esteemed guests. Large, crystal chandeliers reflected off gold jewelry and champagne glasses. A live orchestra played with precise rhythm. Everyone mingled, trying to see where the best place to put their money was. Likewise, scientists tried to advocate for their foundations. All of the talk made Ghost’s head swirl. He was used to undercover missions, however, this was truly out of his realm. 

You were better at picking up the jargon. They spoke a language you understood. The language that only the people in the lab on base understood. It was like hearing your native tongue after years of speaking foreignly. Military culture and science culture was so different, that you often missed this. 

A couple approached the two of you, led by a middle-aged woman with a large, diamond necklace and fake lilies in her hair. “Aren’t you two the most adorable couple! I must compliment you on your gown too!”

This was it. This was their test to look like a real couple out as each other’s dates. You put on a fake smile and held out your hand. “Thank you for the compliment. I’m Mrs. (Y/n) Riley. This is my husband.”

The name slid easily off your tongue, yet it sent electricity through you. There was no way you were going to get used to that name tonight. It made you feel lightheaded when you said it. How could you get so embarrassed by a fake name?

Ghost was having trouble getting used to it too, a part of him wishing that the name was real against his will. Clenching his jaw, he looked out at the crowd, trying to spot the target. His large height helped, but there were too many people around. They all crowded around each other. Talking, laughing, flaunting. A slight tug on his arm brought his attention back to you. You were just sending the lady on her way after a simple, pleasant conversation. Through that, you were able to figure out if the target has shown up yet. 

“Let’s go to the main ballroom. According to the recent intel, our target would be there if he’s shown up. Something about him not being able to resist a shrimp cocktail.” You directed, your confidence becoming stronger as you weaved through the crowd. Ghost couldn’t help but take in your courage, finding it hard to believe that you were once nervous. Then again, this was your crowd.

The ballroom floor was also filled with people, but also now with clear advertisements from scientists. Small signs indicated programs with their representatives, helping investors find the right place to put their money in. You read the signs carefully, recognizing a few of them along with who was supposed to be running it. At some of the names, you grimaced. 

“You alright?” Ghost asked, trying to keep his own expression solid as if he was playing poker. He found himself worrying about you now that you looked so pained. 

You shook your head, trying to clear unpleasant memories as best as you can. “I’m fine. I just. . . I hope I don’t run into any ex-colleagues.”

As if the devil was listening himself, you heard your name being called from afar, a surprised tone countering the determined piano filling the room. “Y/n? Is that really you?!”

Putting on your game face, you smiled and turned towards your former colleague and, unfortunately, ex-lover. Of course, this was going to happen. Almost always one thing goes wrong during a mission. A part of you wished you didn’t accept this mission now that you were face-to-face with someone you tried to leave in the past. 

“Dr. Emmanuel. It has been a long time.” You greeted politely, taking extra time to keep your tone in check. The last time you spoke to him was during the breakup. He dumped you after a quarrel about a missing blueprint. You were working on a project together when you were both interns at a scientific space-engineering facility. The blueprint was supposed to help the both of you land permanent positions, but it was made clear that there was only room for one. 

When you heard the news, you both agreed that neither of you would take credit until you talked to the head of the facility. That was, until the blueprint went missing. From there, you fought and accused him of taking the blueprint for himself to get the job. Your hunch was right when you saw the new employee ID card he hid in his wallet. 

You called him a traitor. He called you deplorable. You claimed that most of the blueprint was your design. He reasoned that if you had the job, you would neglect him anyways with your workaholic nature. He then dropped the bomb that he hated working with you, that you made him feel insecure in bed with your inability to orgasm with him, and that you were just becoming into someone he loathed with your particular personality. He accused you of not loving him enough.

So he took the credit and ran, leaving you to figure out what the hell you were going to do about a job. That’s when you decided to join the military as a weapons engineer. Some time after, you joined the 141. 

“It has been some time, hasn’t it? I’m surprised to see you here? Are you here as a scientist or an investor?” Your ex inquired, sizing you up as someone to take advantage of or as competition for investors. You knew his game and you knew it well. You only had to learn the hard way once before you learned your lesson. You never made the same mistake twice. 

Ghost noticed how your expression hardened, yet you maintained that fake, pearly smile. What was this man to you? How did you know each other? 

Why did he care so much?

“He is the investor and I am the scientist. This is my husband, Mr. Riley.” You announced, now saying the word “husband” with your full chest. Your ex’s eyes widened briefly before twisting into a smile that showed hints of disgust. 

Nonetheless, he held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Riley. It is an honor meeting a man that could tame such a work-driven woman.”

Before you could shoot back some venomous words that were bubbling up on your tongue, Ghost took his hand and gripped it tight with that soldier strength of his. Your ex seemed distraught as pain shot through his hand that was being crushed. Ghost didn’t let up. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t look down at my wife, doctor. I love her just the way she is. I’m sure she has accomplished much more than you as well.”

“Now, if you will excuse us, we have better things to talk about with other people.” Ghost finally let go, bruises already starting to form on the crushed hand of your ex. While you normally would pop off at him for standing up for you when you could’ve done so yourself, you were too busy thinking about his words. The L-bomb he dropped seemed to flow so naturally from him. It made you feel flustered. 

As Ghost led you away, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He took your flustered expression as you being upset. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were upset with him or your ex-colleague. He knew he triggered your pet-peeve and he wanted to apologize. For now, though, he had to settle with a raincheck. “We’ll talk about that later. Do you see our target yet?”

You snapped back into action, being reminded that you have a mission to accomplish above all else. Looking around, you tried to spot the target. As predicted, there he was, gorging himself on shrimp and champagne. “10 o’clock.”

He looked over and confirmed. “Target spotted. Good eye. Ready?”

Taking a few deep breaths to reset your brain, you nodded. Swiftly, the both of you approach the target just as he was taking another flute from a silver tray. You changed your serious demeanor into a more graceful one. Someone worth giving money to. Someone that the target will like. “Mr. Marston. I was hoping to finally meet you tonight. I am Y/n Riley. This is my husband. You are such an inspiration to both scientists and investors.”

“Ha! A couple of fans with good taste! A pleasure to meet such a handsome couple! I’ve been in the business for a long time though, so I know you must want something. Can’t pull the wool over these eyes, even if they are old.” He laughed cheerfully as he raised more alcohol to his lips. 

It seemed that this would be easier than you thought. People like Mr. Marston made you sick. People with way too much time and money on their hands to shape the world as they saw fit, regardless of the good of the people. Nuclear war would be a disaster. And yet, this man treated it as lightly as the glass in his hand. Careless. Spilling over with each movement. Such a fragile thing away from one wrong move before shattering into a hundred pieces. 

“With age comes experience and wisdom. I am a scientist looking for an investor. Though my studies tend to be a little. . . unconventional.” You buttered him up before casting your line. All he had to do was take the bait.

And that he did. His eyebrows rose with interest at your choice of words. He felt his wallet burning a hole in his pocket. “Unconventional, you say? Well, I am all for out-of-the-box solutions to our world’s problems. Care to elaborate on your odd studies?”

You looked up at Ghost, awaiting some sort of signal that you may proceed with luring the target to where you needed him to be. He gave a single nod, disguising it as full support for his lovely wife. You were handling this much better than he expected. Or perhaps, this is how you always were under pressure. His judgment was always just too clouded with contempt to see it. 

“We would love to talk about our project, but such a thing is rather sensitive in nature. I would hate to upset some over-hearers. Perhaps we shall meet later once the formal is over?” You played cautiously, not yet reeling in such a loose bite. 

“Oh my, now you really have my interest! There are a few study spaces at this venue reserved for investors and scientist contract negotiations. I haven’t committed to any facility yet, so why don’t I start with reviewing you? What do you say?”

Hook, line, and sinker. “That would be most ideal, Mr. Marston. Just lead the way.”

Grabbing a few shrimps to go, the target led the way to a more private area of the venue. Everything was smooth, all according to plan. The crowd parted away for the richest investor here, making the exit quite swift. Once the three of you separated from the main event down to a much quieter room, Ghost detained him with cuffs. A button on his watch was pressed, signaling to the team that the target was in custody. 

“Wh-What?! What is all this now?!” Mr. Marston protested, hoping that someone would come to his rescue. 

“Lieutenant Ghost and Sargent Byte. You are being taken into military custody for involvement with nuclear investments. We just need to ask you some questions.” You explained carefully, trying to keep the target calm so you didn’t attract unwanted attention. Cool, calm, and collected. Ghost thought it was a good look on you. You weren’t normally involved like this, so he couldn’t help but think so. 

He had it worse than he thought. Seriously, what was with him?

While Ghost took his hands off the target for a moment to reach for his phone, feeling an incoming message, the target swirled around and tried to bolt. Not in the direction of an exit, though. Instead, he was running straight to you, binded fists raised to strike you. Thanks to your self-defense classes through the military, you acted on pure instinct. You dodged his fists and struck his jugular with a sharp strike of the side of your hand. He gasped for air and collapsed, tears streaming down his face as if he would die from the loss of oxygen. 

Ghost’s attraction to you increased tenfold as you nonchalantly fixed your dress like a meager wind just caused only slight agitation. He forgot just how capable you could be physically, not just intellectually.

Right on time, Price waltzed in wearing his common military uniform. He didn’t even bat an eye at the struggling target. “Transportation is outside. Well done, you two! It was about time you worked together on something. I hope to see more of this in the future!” 

You made some distance between you and Ghost, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. For some reason, it pained Ghost to see you put up that wall again so soon after the mission. Was this the first and last time you would get along so well with him?

No, he decided. He told you that he would speak to you later about the interaction with Emmanuel. Then, he would knock your walls down. Finally get to know the real you.

From there, we can really determine if his feelings were just a fluke or not. 

~

You were back at the hotel, wiping your makeup off and stripping yourself out of the formal dress. Your muscles ache at the new freedom, having been fed up with such a fitted dress and heels. After showering and putting on some pajamas, you got into bed and began to read. You were rewarded for your work with a one-night’s stay at the luxury hotel, and you were taking full advantage of it. 

After reading, you were going to order hotel service and then go to bed. The life of luxury that was more than enough for you. As you began reading the next chapter of your book, you heard a knock at the door. Sighing, you bookmarked your page, and answered it. You were surprised to see Ghost standing there, smelling like fresh maplewood and citrus soap. A plain shirt clung to his torso and pajama pants made him look like a new man altogether. He had his black facemask on still, but once he let himself in, he took it off. 

This was the first time you have ever seen his full face uncovered. You noticed the small scar on his upper lip that matched the one on his right brow. His jaw was strong as if chiseled from marble. You couldn’t deny it. Ghost was a very attractive man.

“Sorry to barge in like this. I said we were going to talk, so here I am.” He explained, taking a seat on the edge of your king bed. He was drinking you in too. The pajama shorts that showed off your thighs, the cami that exposed your delicate shoulders. Your hair was still damp and scented with lavender and vanilla. His heart picked up speed as he felt a pull of attraction to you. 

How could he have ever hated a beautiful thing like you?

You found it a little rude that he just barged in, but you let it slide for once. From his tone, he didn’t seem like he wanted to fight. Besides, those deep blues were starting to melt your icy heart little by little. Just for tonight.

You took a seat on the bed next to him and looked up. “What is there to talk about? He’s just a man from my past.”

At that, he felt his muscles tense. He knew that there was more to the story. Ghost detected your evasion of the subject as clear as day. It was something he experienced nearly every day before this. He knew your tell. “I know it wasn’t just that. What he said, how you looked. What happened?”

Out of all people, you least expected Ghost to hound you about this. He has never been interested in your personal life before. Then again, your relationship has changed dramatically since the night in the lab. Before you knew it, you started to feel yourself open up to him a little. 

You stared down into your lap. “He’s an ex. We were interns together, he took all the credit for a project we did, he got a job, and I didn’t. He insulted me, dumped me, and then left. I left to work in the military. That’s really all there is to it.”

While your tone tried to keep it casual, Ghost knew it was really a tragedy. No wonder you didn’t trust easily. Now he wished he broke that guy’s hand when he had the chance. 

Did he really have room to talk though? He made you distrust people even more easily when he first met you. It was about time he apologized for it all. “Listen, Y/n. I’m sorry. About everything. For the two years of fighting. All the insults, all the exclusion. Everything. I should have been a better teammate, lieutenant, and even friend to you. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say, a new trick of his that seemed to have worked time and time again. The tick of a classic clock filled the silence as you thought about his apology. The sound of him using your real name echoed in your ears. You blamed him for everything that transpired. And now he was sorry about it. Yet, the way he looked at you didn’t indicate the need for forgiveness. He wasn’t entitled to it, and he knew that. Instead, his gaze was filled with certainty. The certainty to do much better by you from now on. 

Two years to lead up to this moment. You never thought you would live to see the day. Just like him, you slowly found your rage for him melt down to almost nothing, instead to be replaced by something soft, warm, and electric. 

You gave an awkward laugh. “I’m sorry too. I know I can be pretty unlikable.”

“You’re not unlikable.” He reassured, his hand naturally taking your cheek like he’s been doing it all his life. Ghost didn’t even realize that he did it at first. And before he knew it, he was going in for a kiss, unable to resist those pretty lips of yours for a moment longer. 

Your cheeks began to burn as he kissed you so suddenly, yet you didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. Something was pulling you deeper into him. A passion that was always there from the beginning. Hate or love, you have always been passionate about Ghost. Maybe that was why you truly hated him in the first place. 

Ghost couldn’t stop himself, deepening the kiss with each second that passed, reveling in how sweet you tasted on his lips. He’s been obsessed with you since the beginning. A fire within him had always burned for you. He just wished he realized that it was actually love much sooner. Perhaps if he did, you really would’ve been Mrs. Riley tonight. 

All the things he hated about you before were things he loved about you now. Your soft lips, your silky hair, your amazing intellect. All of the things that he could never match. You were better than him. However, he didn’t care anymore. He actually appreciated it now. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I really am.” He whispered as he pulled you closer, wrapping you in his embrace. You felt his firm muscles against you so much better now than before, the shirt he was wearing leaving little to the imagination with how fitted it was. 

It honestly turned you on. 

You took the initiative to reconnect your lips, your mouth opening to invite his tongue. Nerves fired off in every inch of your skin as his slick tongue met yours. Your toes curled as he felt you up, groping your thighs and waist like they would disappear any moment. His hands felt so good on you that you shivered, yearning for more. 

Things were getting out of control, but Ghost didn’t care. Tonight, he wanted you more than he has ever wanted anything from you. To appreciate all the things he was too stupid to notice before. You were sexy beyond belief. Always have been. When you were working over your desk with such a focused look, when you were gloating about your new invention, when you demonstrated a new gun so naturally in perfect stance. 

His pants tightened as his erection grew strong with each taste of your tongue. His hands roamed into your hair, gripping slightly to pull you closer. The both of you moaned when you ended up grinding against his hard cock. Once you got a taste for that, you couldn’t stop. Your hips grinded into his, sending earthquakes of pleasure through you. You could feel your panties get damper each minute as the makeout became even hotter and heavier. It wasn’t helping that it has been a while since the last time you had sex. It made you feel more sensitive than usual.

Finally, Ghost flipped you around and settled you back on the bed. He has never been so turned on in his life and you were the one doing this to him. 

There was something he needed to make clear first, though.

“I’m going to make you cum.” He promised, flashing you a determined look that had you weak. 

You blushed and averted your gaze, your voice low. “You shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I’ll do it. No matter how long it takes. I’m going to be the first man to make you cum tonight.” He reassured, gladly ignoring your warnings as he leaned down to kiss your lips again. As he took control of your tongue, his hands began to explore your skin under the shirt. You were unbelievably soft under his fingertips, delicate from your lack of experience on a battlefield. He now loved that about you. You didn’t need to be in the throws of battle to be part of the team. 

“You’re so soft, you know that?” He praised, deep rumbles of his voice making your brain turn into mush as it entered your ears. His kisses traveled to them, making you shiver uncontrollably as he softly bit down. 

He chuckled, a sound that was once always reserved for his male teammates unless he was making fun of you. Now, they teased you so pleasantly that your breath hitched. “Someone’s ears are sensitive. You like having them played with?”

Just as you were about to answer, he slid his hand up to touch your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you jump. “Ahh~! Ghost!”

“Call me Simon.” He demanded, yearning for the sound of his real name coming from you. It would be the first time you would call him by his real name. 

You played with it in your head, noting how foreign it felt just sitting on your tongue. Nonetheless, you gave him what he wanted. “S-Simon. . .”

“Again.” He encouraged, suppressing a shiver that traveled down his spine. It was like getting a dose of the sweetest drug. Fireworks exploding in his chest. He loved how his name sounded on your lips. 

“Simon. . .” You sighed as he peppered kisses all over your neck. Your cami was now raised up to reveal your chest, kisses traveling further and further down to taste all of you. As much as Simon wanted to fuck you already right then and there, he had a promise to keep. He had to take it slow and let it build up. He had to make you cum first.

He took a stiff nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around before taking it between his teeth in a gentle bite. His other hand twisted your other nub between his fingers. The way he tweaked them hard sent waves of pleasure through you, all the way down to your cunt that was still soaking your panties. It felt so good to have him touch you like this. You wanted more. 

Arching your back, you took your top off completely. Simon followed suit, stripping off his shirt and trailing his kisses down your stomach. As he felt your stomach on his lips, he buried his face deep into it. To think that he could’ve had this so much sooner if he was just nice to you from the beginning. “So soft. . .”

You squirmed a little under his slow, deep kisses to your body. No one has ever taken this much time on you before. All foreplay was pretty exclusive to your breasts or cunt with your previous partners. Simon was taking the time to appreciate your whole body. It felt so intimate. “Simon. . ?”

God, he loved it when you said his name. “Y/n?”

You were starting to like the sound of your name coming from him too. A blush swept across your cheeks. “You can be a little rougher.”

He smirked, this time making you tremble in excitement rather than rage. “Is that what you like? You like it a little rough?”

“I like the firmer sensation. Nothing too crazy.” You elaborated, always one to speak your mind even in a moment like this. If you were going to have sex with Simon Riley, if he wanted to make you cum, information like this was important.

Simon hummed against your skin, his hands working to pull off your pants. The vibrations made you sigh. Once your shorts and panties were off, he settled himself between your legs. Your dripping cunt was such a pretty sight. Pink, wet, and sweet. He bit the inside of your thigh, making you gasp in pleasure. “Like that? Is this what your previous partners did to you?” 

“N-No. . .” You admitted. Your previous partners never really listened to what you liked even if you told them straight-forwardly. At least not enough to get you to tremble like Simon did. It seemed like the man you hated before was really the best so far in bed. 

“Good. Their loss.” He murmured, biting down on your thighs soon after and leaving a deep love-bite. You bit your lower lip and whimpered, the sensation sending shockwaves. Simon kept going further and further down on you, relishing each time you moaned and quivered. He wanted more. He wanted to make you scream.

His lips latched onto your swollen clit, biting it between his teeth and flicking it with his tongue. He tasted your nectar on his tongue, a taste that instantly made him addicted to it. You arched your back and grabbed his hair suddenly, silky soft strands feeling nice between your fingers. 

Just like he wanted, you moaned his name over and over again. His tongue kept lathering your clit firmly and with even strokes. Fingers prodded at your opening, spreading your wetness all over you until he was able to put two of his fingers inside. God, you were tight. 

“Ahh~! Right there, Simon!” You encouraged, your ability to speak your mind unwavering. Simone found that insanely attractive as he pushed his fingers in further and curled right at that spongy spot that was driving you crazy. His teeth pulled at your folds before being soothed with his tongue. Your clit twitched as he pressed his tongue up against it once more, all the while pumping his fingers into your soaked pussy. 

Your grip on his hair got tighter as he kept pushing you to the edge. The sensation made his own cock twitch under his clothes, making him press it up against the mattress to grind into. He wished it was your pussy he was grinding into already, but you were so close. He could feel it. You could feel it. 

He didn’t stop his pace. Strong, even, and slow. You tightened around his fingers each second, feeling the wave approach closer and closer. You could already tell that this was going to be a big one. Your first orgasm with a partner ever. 

Tilting your head back, you moaned louder and louder. You begged for more and more, praying to a god that Simon wasn’t just going to leave you hanging. Now that would be pure evil. The worst thing he could ever do to you. But he didn’t. He just kept nipping, sucking, biting, and licking to the point that your head was spinning. 

Before you could warn him, your vision saw white and you screamed. Simon could feel you suck in his fingers so tight that he smiled as he still landed kisses on your clit. Your legs trembled, aching to close or kick out the electricity that coarse through you. Your cum was spilling everywhere. All over his fingers down to his wrist, coating your thighs in a sweet glaze. 

While you tried to catch your breath, Simon licked up every drop. “How was that? Everything you thought it would be?

You looked down to see his eyes ablaze with victory and a sexy smirk on his lips. You sighed and nodded. “Credit where credit is due. That was really good.”

“Good. Because you’re not done yet.” He decided, already stripping off his pajama pants to reveal his rock hard erection. He was bigger than you expected, all that shit talk for two years making you believe that he was making up for something. But he was blessed with the girth, the length, and the look that you knew would be amazing.

He positioned himself between your legs, coating his length with your slick. Shivers started again as the tip rubbed against your clit. The both of you sighed, enjoying each other’s bodies to the fullest extent.

Suddenly, Simon pushed all of his cock into you, bottoming out within a second. You gripped the sheets tight in your fist as you cried out. He stretched you out so pleasurably, so fully. You’ve never felt so full in your sex life. 

Simon hissed as you clenched around him. “Fucking hell, you’re so tight. . .”

Slowly, he began to move. Long even strokes that rubbed every inch of you and him. As he looked down at you, face twisting into such a pleasurable expression, eyes only on him, he heard his heart beat in his ears. God damn, you were gorgeous. 

Your eyes widened as he came down for a kiss, his tongue taking full control while his hips remained steady. The sudden rush of the kiss and his cock reaching deeper made you scratch at his shoulders. He was eating up all of your moans like candy. 

“F-Fuck~! Simon, wait!” You begged, the sensation getting overwhelming with each deep thrust. He could feel you getting tighter. Wetter. He knew that you were getting close to another orgasm, and he wasn’t going to stop for a second.

He sat up and pushed your legs down by your thighs, spreading you wide open and making you take all of him as deep as you can. You clawed his hands as your climax approached even faster, Simon ignoring all of your cries for him to wait. The sounds of your wet sex echoed in the room along with your sensual moans, causing you to get even more aroused. Christ, his cock was so good!

You were plunged into an orgasm, your whole body quaking as you arched and screamed it out. Simon felt your pussy wrap tightly around him, trying to take everything from him before he was ready. It was dizzying how good your insides felt coiling around him. He loved how you soaked his dick and crotch full with your hot cum. 

Simon grabbed your thighs tight, squeezing hard and clenching his teeth while he tried to stop himself from climaxing too soon. He wanted to stretch this night out for as long as he could.

While you settled down from your second orgasm, you gazed up at Simon who was struggling to keep himself together. You lifted your arms and touched his strong, muscular chest that was shimmering in sweat. You could feel how hard his heart was beating under your fingertips. You could feel him twitch hard inside you, aching to fuck you again. Your body was weak, though. You didn’t know if you could last for much longer. Every nerve in your body felt like it was melting. “Si-”

“I know. Your body won’t stop shaking. Just until I cum, yeah?” He observed, fingers tracing your trembling curves.

At the idea of Simon cumming, your body regained new energy that you didn’t know you had. You wanted to see it. Feel it. You wanted to see your lieutenant crumble from the power of your body. “Fuck me then, Simon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. His hips went into overdrive, thrusting in and out of you with ease from all of your slick. You felt him hit that wonderful spot of yours that made you see stars over and over again, your body already on the edge once again. 

Simon picked you up off the bed and turned, settling you on his lap while he laid back. He didn’t relinquish any control, however. He just wanted to grope your delicious ass while he thrusted up inside you, hitting nice and deep. With the new view and new places to touch, he was losing his mind. 

You weren’t expecting this new position, but you didn’t reject it either. In fact, it felt heavenly. He hit that g-spot at just the right angle and you loved how he manhandled your butt so roughly. You liked how his eyes never looked away from your body, drinking it all in like the finest wine. From this position, you could feel his solid cock twitch inside of you.

Struggling yourself up, limbs feeling like jelly, you fell onto his chest, your tits pressing firmly into him. That sent him over the edge, his grip on your ass making his nails dig into your skin. Once you felt that first rope of cum enter you, you came for the last time.

Hot cum mixed together, making a mess out of the both of you. His chest fell and rose with heavy breaths, groans coming out with each rope he couldn’t hold back. Your tightening pussy wasn’t helping, milking him of everything to the point where he even felt tingles travel through him. Once he was finally done, he felt exhausted. 

You were exhausted too, your lungs struggling to regulate air flow. Your heart was beating so loud that it drained all other noises. Your body felt slightly numb from it all, your head getting fuzzy with each second. Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his chest as you both calmed yourselves. 

“That was. . .” He began, losing the right words to describe just how amazing that was. He’s had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never like this. No one could quite compare to you.

“Yeah. . .” You agreed, your eyes closing as you felt the afterglow take over. You felt the covers pull up over you, Simon still holding you on top of him, not willing to let go just yet. 

He could never imagine letting you go now. 

[charsthearcher]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Storage Closet #4

freshman fem!reader x senior!emily engstler

warnings: allusions to sex, grinding, dirty talk, swearing, age gap, reader is perceived to be shorter than emily, petnames, highschool setting, use of ma (im sorry but emily is such a hey mamas fight with the wall) i think thats all lmk if i missed any

a/n: if you feel like youve read this before on wattpad or something, you probably have.. I CHANGED MOST OF IT BUT STORY LINES THE SAME. it was originally about.. uh.. taylor swift.. WHAT WHO SAID THAT???? if you find any taylor instead of emily lmk!!!

You sighed as you stepped through the doors to your highschool, dreading the day ahead. 

Sure, you liked school. You had good friends, nice teachers and outstanding grades, but today just wasnt your day. You showed up in a hoodie and shorts that mightve been a little short but you couldnt care less. Your hair was pulled into a ponytail with stray hairs poking out.

You heard your name echo through the hall, “Over here!” Your friend Gemma shouted across the hallway. Her and your friends were standing over by your cluster of lockers.

"Hey guys," You began taking books out of your locker for your first class, Math. 

"Sucks we dont have any classes together today." Kayla huffed. "Still meet up for lunch though?" She asked eyebrows raised at you.

You would rarely eat lunch with them nowadays. Its not because you didnt want to, you just had other things to do.

"Ill try." You fake smiled. The bell rang and you slammed your locker shut before saying your farewells to your friends, heading off to your class.

A familiar voice called out to you right before you walked into your class. You spun around and were greeted with a face from your english class. You didnt know too many people in your english class. After all you were a freshman taking the senior AP english classes. (tbh idk how american school works so sorry!)

But this one blonde you did know. Emily had taken care of you ever since you were placed in her class. You two often partnered for projects and partner work. Well more like you do the work and Emily annoys the shit out of you.

"You do the english homework?" She asked a smirk on her face. 

"Im assuming you 'forgot' again?" You asked grabbing your backpack and searching for the homework.

"Something like that." She laughed as you handed over your homework. You didnt mind helping her, after all she was the nicest to you in class. She would help you. A lot.

"Dont forget to bring it back before 7th period." You warned.

"I wont. Bye baby!" She cooed making fun of your age, walking backwards down the hall catching your reaction.

"Bye Emily." You laughed as she turned around with a skip in her step. You sighed as she turned the corner, gathering your thoughts until finally entering your class.

—————————

It was finally 7th period which meant one more hour to go. You were able to have lunch with your friends which put your mood up a bit.

You were sat at your desk at the side of the room, listening to the teacher blabber on about a project you had to do on a book of choice.

"And you will be needing partners for this." He announced. 

You groaned knowing who you would have to partner with. You never got any work done when you worked with her. 

You glanced over to Emily as she winked at you. You whipped your head back to the front as to not let her see the flush on your cheeks. 

After your teacher was finished, he said you and your partner could discuss what books you could do. Emily stalked her way over to your desk pulling herself up a chair.

"What book are we doing?" She asked.

"What book do you want to do?" You asked back.

"I havent read many books." She shrugged.

"How exactly are you in AP English?" 

"I have a way with my words." She winked again. That stupid charm she has.

You sighed and used your hands to push you up from your chair, gesturing Emily to come with you.

"Sir, could me and Emily please head over to the library to check out a copy of our book?" You asked at your teachers desk smiling.

"Sure. dont take too long, yes?" 

"Yes sir." you and Emily said in unison.

You lead the way out of the classroom before walking the complete opposite direction of the library.

Emily shook her head laughing quietly as she followed you, sensing your idea.

You stopped at a closet with a title reading: Storage Closet #4. You peered around to see if anybody was around before quickly opening the door and pulling Emily inside.

"What exactly do you plan to do in here?" She said raising an eyebrow.

"Oh shut up." You said pulling her head down to yours taking her lips in a kiss. Her hands found home around your waist as you wrapped you arms around her neck. She pushed you up agaisnt the wall pulling one of your thighs up.

Her tounge pried your lips open, exploring your mouth as though shed have no other chance.

She pulled away for a moment before placing hard kisses on your neck and you groaned.

"Fuck, I dont think we are going to be able to do this project." You panted.

You didnt know how this happend. You never thought of highschool and thought you would be making out with a hot senior in a storage closet. 

Near the beginning of the year Emily offered to partner with you for the first project to save you the embarrassment of having to work with the teacher.

She would always flirt with you while studying, eyes gauging your reaction to her jokingly (not) flirty comments. She would wait for your cheeks to turn that maroon color she grew to love so much then tease the hell out of you for it.

Eventually she teased you enough and you built up the courage to put some actions to her words. 

Sure, a 15 year old secretly hooking with a 18 year old was definitely wrong. But you and Emily took the risk. She would only ever speak to you around people if it related to school and same for you.

In private you could do whatever you wanted.

You two often went on road trips out of town so you could go on lunch dates without having to act like sisters or friends. In all honesty you enjoyed the secrecy of it all, it made it all so thrilling.

Emily pulled away gasping for air. "Shit." She laughed, eyes wide as she rubbed her thumb over a spot on your neck.

"What?" You asked pulling out your phone from your back pocket and opening camera.

"For fucks sake Emily!" You half heartedly scolded glaring at the reflection of a red and purple mark. "What will my mom think? Her 15 year old daughter coming home from school with a fat hickey?" You pulled your hair back to get a better view seeing it went darker.

You shoot daggers her way before she smirks playfully and kisses the mark. “Thats not gonna make it go away..” You grumbled.

She laughed and pulled you back into her, continuing the kiss. Her hands carresed your ass as you moaned softly into her mouth. "Sh, baby." she hushed into your lips.

As she bit and tugged and carresed, you two lost track of time. She slid a thigh in between your legs and you whimpered as she smirked, again.

You started moving your hips savouring the feeling of your barley covered centre rubbing up agaisnt the rough of her jeans.

"Go ahead pretty girl, use me. make yourself feel good." She whispered into your ear before nibbling at your lobe. God you loved when she talked in that same raspy voice.

The kiss became more and more lazy, teeth clashing and moans and groans echoing in the closet. Emily was no longer focused on the kiss but on the way your head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth slightly agape.

You began rutting your hips more and more rapidly, chasing your high. Emily bit down on her lip watching you get yourself off. Right as you were on the edge she pulled her thigh away. Your eyes flung open and your eyebrows were furrowed.

"What the fuck?" You spat at her.

"Watch the mouth princess. Dont want to get on my bad side hm?" She said towering over you.

You gulped and looked away at her dominance. "I asked you a question ma." She whispered again lifting your chin with a single finger.

Words were no longer an option if you didnt want to humiliate yourself. So, you settled with a dumb shake of your head.

"We’ll finish this at mine later, yeah? Lets get back to class." And with that she slipped out of the closet leaving you breathless, as always. (and back to class with no book and a disapproved remark from your teahcer)

[taurasiluvr]

how you can help palestine

★ i've been thinking about this clip since i've seen it, and i fear it's taken over my brain. suggestive content under the cut, minors dni!

 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; established relationship, no smut but very much suggestive / alluding to sex.

the wet hair, her exposed and muscular arms – it made you go absolutely insane. and caitlin was doing it on purpose, to to test your self-control. she glanced at you with a mischievous glint in her eye, knowing exactly the effect she had on you.

she sauntered over, her wet dripping onto the shirt she'd been wearing. "enjoying the view?" she teased, leaning against the doorframe, her biceps flexing slightly as she crossed her arms.

you swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure. "you know what you're doing, don't you?"

caitlin's laugh was low and throaty. "maybe," she admitted, her gaze now dark, locking onto yours. "is it working?"

you smirked, stepping closer until you were just inches apart. "it's definitely working," you murmured, your voice tinged with desire.

she raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smile. "good, i like keeping you on your toes."

you couldn't help but laugh softly. "well, mission accomplished."

your hands found her waist, drawing her even closer. the feel of her wet shirt against your skin sent shivers down your spine, the way she gazed down at you like you were the most delicate thing in the world, and you were – at least, in her world.

caitlin's hands moved to rest on your shoulders, her touch firm yet gentle. "you know," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, "i have practice in the morning. coach is going to kill me if i'm late, again."

caitlin tried to be a punctual person, she really did – but it's really hard when you have a sexy girlfriend who demands attention all day, especially with her busy schedule. she doesn't know what's been in the air, but the two of you had been at it like rabbits – again, maybe it was her busy schedule but she couldn't keep her hands off of you.

you smiled innocently, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her neck. "you're making it seem like it's my fault," you mumbled.

caitlin pouted dramatically as she pulled back just enough to look at you. "oh, it's definitely your fault," she teased, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on your shoulders.

"you're irresistible, and you know it."

you laughed softly, the sound muffled against her skin as you nuzzled closer. "well... if i'm soooo irresistible, then maybe you should do something about it."

her eyes darkened with a playful intensity. "is that a challenge?"

you met her gaze, your smile turning into a smirk. "maybe it is."

without another word, caitlin scooped you up into her arms, effortlessly carrying you over to the bed. she laid you down gently, her body hovering over yours as she leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss. you responded eagerly, your hands exploring the familiar terrain of her muscular back, feeling the strength and power in her every movement.

caitlin pulled back slightly, her breath hot against your lips. "you're gonna be the death of me," she murmured, her eyes filled with a mix of adoration and need.

you chuckled, your fingers tangling in her wet hair. "but what a way to go," you whispered back.

she laughed softly, the sound vibrating through you as she kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the moment. her hands roamed over your body, igniting a trail of fire wherever they touched.

if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!

with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚

[mattscoquette]

✧ ˚🎀 twitch stream

your key entered the slot of chris and nicks apartment, you letting yourself in quietly. matt had been in and out of meetings all morning, and you were stuck at work until the later afternoon, so your boyfriends brothers were babysitting the girls until matt was able to pick them up. from there, he decided to just spend some time with his daughters and their uncles because it had been quiet some time since they all were together. you climbed the stairs, entering matt’s room to see him sat back in his gaming chair, a controller in hand while both of your daughters were sat on either side of his lap.

one of the little blonde-haired girls looked over to you, her eyes lighting up. “mommy!” stella cheered, clambering off of matt’s lap to run over to you. you quickly crouched to her level, opening your arms to envelop her in a hug.

“hi baby,” you smiled, playing a kiss on her cheek, “how are you?”

she pulled away, flashing you a gapped-tooth smile. “look! my tooth fell out!”

“wow, and how did that happen?” you asked quizzically, now standing at your full height.

“ask uncle chrissy.” matt chimed in, your other daughter, lorelai, still sat on his lap.

you laughed, going over to matt, noticing he was streaming live on twitch. your arms wrapped around your boyfriends shoulders, placing your head next to his as you gave him a quick kiss on the side of his jaw.

“hi my love,” he said, turning his head to the side to give you a real kiss. “how was work?”

“it was okay,” you sighed, pulling away. you directed your attention towards lorelai, who’s attention was fixed on the monitor in front of her. “you like this game, sweetie?” you laughed, her focus amusing you.

“mhmmmm,” she hummed up at you, nodding her head. “uncle nick told me he’s better than daddy, but i don’really think so.”

“i am better than your daddy.” nick chimed in, his voice echoing loud from matt’s computer speakers. this caused you four to laugh, stella finding her way back to her dads lap.

“nick you’re literal dogshit at this game.” chris argued over the call.

“chris,” matt scolded, trying to cover his daughters ears. “why don’t you tell everyone how my daughter lost her tooth today, hm?”

“yeah, i’m curious to know too.” you agreed, glancing over at the chat as the commented were filled with compliments to you and the girls, everyone saying how the stream instantly got better since you got there.

“well, you know how it was loose already, right?” chris began, taking a large swig of his drink. you all hummed in agreement. “well, me and stel were playing on the couch, and she wouldn’t stop jumping off the side onto me.” this caused you to laugh a little loud, that sounding exactly like stella.

“next thing i know, she misses my arms and bangs her face into my shoulder, and when she comes back up her front tooth is gone.” chris exclaims.

“you tell mommy what happened after that, munchkin.” matt told stella, diverting his attention away from the game to look at the young girl sitting with him.

“uncle nick had to push the couch to get my tooth!” she giggled.

“my goodness,” you sighed, “that sounds like quite a lot of trouble.”

“and uncle chrissy said that stel’s gon’get so much money from the tooth fairy.” lorelai told you mater-of-factly.

“of course she is, lo.” chris agreed, smiling wide, making a mental note to slip matt a twenty before you all leave tonight.

“daddy, what’re all these words on the screen say?” lorelai asked, instantly changing the subject. she was looking at the monitor that displayed the twitch chat, all the comments coming through at a rapid pace.

“try’n read them, lo, show mommy how we’ve been practicing your reading.” matt told her, wrapping his arm around her tightly and planting a kiss to her head.

she leaned forward, squinting as she tried to read the words as they flashed on the screen. “oh! i see my name!” she exclaimed, looking up to her dad and pointing.

“yeah,” matt smiled, looking at the comments with her, “and look, there’s sissy’s name too, and mommy’s.” he told her, showing her the comments had their names in them.

the young girl giggled, grabbing her sisters arm to get her attention “look, stel, they saying your name!”

stella smiled, her face lighting up as she recognized the letters that spelled her name. her eyes squinted, seeing the chat began to say more words that were at a five-year old level and at a slower pace so they were able to read. “daddy! daddy! look! that one says cat!” she squealed, nearly falling off matt’s lap as she posted to the monitor.

“good job, baby.” matt smiled brightly, hugging both his girls tightly.

matt and his brothers continued to stream for about another hour before the girls began fussy, saying they were hungry. as he ended the stream, chris and nick came into matt’s bedroom to say goodbye to their nieces. they both wrapped the girls in bear hugs, chris even picking them both up and spinning them around, planting a large kiss on each of their cheeks.

“call me tomorrow morning when the tooth fairy comes,” he told stella, placing her back on the ground, “and lorelai, you call and tell me how much she brought your sister, got it?”

both the girls giggled and nodded, saying goodbye to nick and chris once more before joining you and matt in the living room as you made your way back to the car to head to you and matt’s shared apartment for the evening.

authors note: aaa first thing in the dad!matt au!!!! i’m so super excited for thisss. not sure how often i will update but whatever yall want for this i will try to deliver

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper @sturnifyed @freshlovie @imwetforyourmom @69isabella69 @mattsturnxoxo @stonermattsgf @mmay4ever @pettydollie @fawnchives @pr1ncessmatt @lanas-doll @55sturn @grimholic @livvy4realll @freshloveee @hollandsangel @mattspolitank @luverboychris @selenascorner @jetaimevous @sarosfilms @l34n

[chaotic-birds]

hi!! i saw you wanted to write fluff and i love your work! i was wondering if you could write a jasonxfem!reader on their wedding day, like getting ready and just being sweet and dopey.

(i tried to send this in earlier but it said it didn’t work so if you already got an ask like this is was from me 🙏🏼)

im so sorry about how late this is but tysm for sending something in! and ty for loving my work 🥺

TW reader has she/her pronouns, one rated r joke (tho its tame aha) | WC 1.5k | G fluff

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty!

masterlist

Jason is usually not one for superstitions, so you were surprised at how adamant he was about not seeing each other until the altar. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from designating Dick as his messenger.

“Dude, seriously? This is your seventh note to her,” Dick scoffs at the folded paper in his hand.

Jason looks at his brother through the mirror while fixing his tie for the tenth time.

“And there’ll be an eighth, so stop bitching and go give it to her.”

Dick grumbles, mumbling curses as he huffs out of the room.

“You know, you could just wait and tell her whatever it is in person,” Tim comments.

“And you could just mind your business,” Jason replies.

Jason notices Tim pursing his lips; he’s no doubt repressing his snarky comeback due to it being Jason’s big day.

The sound of the door opening makes Jason snap his head in that direction. Is Dick already back with your note?

Stephanie walks in, a big smile on her face.

“I thought wedding days were supposed to be filled with happiness. What’s up, grouch?” Stephanie questions.

Jason releases a big sigh and turns to face her.

With a pout, he answers, “My tie keeps looking weird.”

She laughs. “You really are nervous, huh?”

Stephanie comes to stand in front of him, undoing his tie.

“Can you blame me? Things don’t exactly go well for us, and I need this day to go well.”

“Is that why there’s a gun in your jacket?” Damian pipes in.

Jason shrugs. He’d feel naked without it.

Stephanie flattens the tie against his chest then taps him to confirm she’s done. Jason turns to the mirror again, overanalyzing the article of clothing. It still doesn’t feel right, but he guesses it never will.

“Thanks,” Jason mutters.

Dick walks back into the room, holding up a small piece of paper.

Jason eagerly meets him halfway and snatches the item from his hand.

You’re unbelievable, Jay. Ditching is not an option! I’ll see you soon xoxo (:

Jason grins at your scribbling. He can tell you’re in a rush and wonders if you’re as nervous as him.

There’s less than an hour to go, and he can’t tell if time is moving too fast or too slow. He just knows he’s ready to say I do.

There was a time where Jason believed a day like this would just be a fantasy. He never thought he’d wear a ring on his left hand. Never thought he’d find a home in a person.

But he’s so glad he did.

Jason stares at you with a smile so large it makes his cheeks hurt. However, he feels it can’t be helped. He’s buzzing with overwhelming joy.

Though, despite that, there’s the ever-present dark cloud above his head, threatening to shower him with self-deprecating thoughts. Thoughts that he wishes he could overcome, but somehow they keep sprouting. The most consistent out of them all is that he’s not deserving of—

“Jay?”

He turns his face and his gaze finds yours. They’re analyzing his features.

“What’s going on up there?” you whisper, sitting at their table at the front of the room. Everyone around them is eating.

It’s then he realizes his smile has faded, leaving behind a dejected expression.

You raise a hand to rub at one of his temples, not wanting to mess up his hair.

“Sorry,” he sighs. His eyes close briefly. When he opens them, you’re still staring at him.

“I love you,” he blurts. “I love you so much.”

You grin widely, hand dropping to grab his.

“I know.” You steal a kiss and squeeze his hand.

Jason opens his mouth to ask if you love him but stops. Out of all the places, all the events, this one should be a clear beacon of how much you love him.

As if reading his thoughts, you lean in and hug him.

It takes everything in him not to pull you into his lap and cuddle you like a stuffed animal.

“You’re the best man I know,” you say close to his ear. “You’re caring, thoughtful, funny, a little bit of a smartass,” you pause to chuckle, “and deserving.”

You pull away but keep a hand on his shoulder blade.

“And not only do I love you, but so does everyone in this room,” you continue. “I couldn’t have married a better man. You’re mine, Jason Todd. You know that?”

Jason hates crying. He hates it even more when it happens in public. But for fucks sake, he can’t stop the two tears that glide down his cheeks.

You kiss one and wipe the other.

“There’s darkness in us all, but focus on the light. Focus on us.”

Jason nods. His heart is beating rapidly from your sweet words.

“I was only supposed to cry at the altar,” he mutters, trying to bring some humor—some light—back into the atmosphere.

You smile. He can tell you’re recalling his tears as he watched you descend the aisle.

“Guess it means you’re a bigger crybaby than me,” you tease. Sure, you’ve shed a tear or fifteen, but not as much as Jason.

“We’ll see about that,” he huffs but there’s a smile on his lips. “The night’s not over.”

“No, it is not, little bro,” a voice joins the conversation as a hand slaps down on Jason’s other shoulder roughly.

Dick grins down at Jason. There’s something in it that’s wicked.

Dick turns, retrieves the microphone from the DJ booth, then walks back. The music lowers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it’s time to start the fun,” Dick announces into the mic.

The room quiets as people’s attention shifts.

“I’d like to congratulate the lovely couple and share a few words,” he pauses to glance at Jason. “And you bet your zombie ass, I’ll be telling embarrassing stories too.”

Jason narrows his eyes at Dick, but one simple kiss from you on his cheek has him wilting in his chair.

He’s so done for.

Jason is perfectly content watching you on the dance floor from afar. But oh, that won’t do.

From being tossed from Stephanie to Dick, to Duke, to even Damian, he’s had his fair share of time away from his chair. A chair that his feet desperately miss.

“Woah, hey there, handsome,” you smile when you catch him. He sends Cass a glare as he stumbles after she made him spin.

“How are you still standing?” he groans, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist.

You shrug. “I’m surprised you’ve been dancing for so long.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” he grumbles.

He watches you peep over his shoulder and giggle–no doubt seeing his family laugh.

Jason loves your giggles.

“I’m glad you didn’t. I liked watching you shake your little hips,” you joke and wiggle him as if to reenact his moves.

Jason groans louder and grips your waist tighter.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he almost whines.

You pull him closer, whispering, “I rather be under you.”

Jason stops breathing for a moment. A bunch of thoughts fill his head, none of which are appropriate for a public setting.

You pull away, sending him a wink before scurrying off to who knows where. Jason watches you go. He wants to go after you, but truthfully, it’s better if he doesn’t. Or else, he might just find a secluded spot and turn his thoughts into reality.

Jason lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Already can’t keep up?”

Jason turns to see Bruce at his side, eyeing you as you stop at your friends’ table. You throw your head back, laughing loudly as if no one can ruin your mood. You catch Bruce’s stare and smile sweetly—as if you didn’t just whisper something vulgar to Jason a second ago.

Bruce laughs softly, then directs his focus on Jason. He gives him a pat on the back like he’s done so many times before.

“I’m happy for you,” he says. “You’ve done well for yourself, son.”

Bruce gives Jason a genuine, big smile. It’s not one he sees much from him.

Jason nods. He may still have unresolved issues with the man, but there’s no mistaking the care and pride in his eyes.

“Thanks,” Jason says. He would say more, but he’s never been much of a talker… well, a sappy talker.

Bruce understands and gives him one more pat before he walks back to his table.

Jason takes one long sweep across the room. He takes in the pretty decorations and the smiling faces. He sees people who have been by his side through rough times and, now, one of his happiest.

His eyes land on you last.

You’re so beautiful that his heart churns.

Jason can feel the dark cloud forming above his head. He can hear the faint sound of thunder.

He shakes his head.

No.

Not today.

He won’t stand in the storm. He won’t be showered in doubt. If he were to be showered, he wanted it to be with your love.

Ignoring the thunder and drizzle, he moves away from the storm and makes a beeline for you.

Here, with his hand around your waist, there is sunshine and chirping birds. Here, there is happiness.

Here, there is love.

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

Dividers by @strangergraphics (ty!)

[munsonsmixtapes]

Paint Me

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!inexperienced!American!reader

summary: You and Benedict attend his mother's masquerade ball and the tension between the two of you is palpable.

word count: 9k

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (please don't do this) anal, fingering, finger sucking, oral (both m and f receiving) masturbation, use of the word daddy, Benedict has a degradation kink

part one part two part three

March 3, 1817

You hadn’t seen Benedict since the gallery-well, more like you had seen him, but had been avoiding him like the plague since your embarrassing situation. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him and didn’t know why you couldn’t get yourself to speak to him. Maybe it was because you had been embarrassed about just what your thoughts had contained. Because It was absolutely not appropriate for you to be thinking that way about a man who was not your husband.

All that you could think about was how much you wanted to kiss him again. How much you wanted him to make you feel as good as you did at the gallery. The way he had made you feel when he had grabbed your breast.

You had dreamt about him every night since and they were nothing but inappropriate in your mind. They all featured you both at the ball that was supposed to take place at his mother’s home where you danced the waltz together before he pulled you into his brother’s office before having his way with you. That part was a little fuzzy considering the fact that no one had ever taught you about sex. You were actually hoping that Benedict would teach you everything that you needed to know about the subject as he fucked you senseless.

Maybe you were looking forward to seeing him at the Bridgerton masquerade ball and maybe you were looking forward to Benedict ripping off your masks as he slid his hands up your dress, removing it ever so slowly and undoing your corset ever so slowly as his lips pressed to yours.

A part of you had hoped that you would have hoped that he would have shown up at your house for you like you had seen all of your sister’s suitors do, but he never did. That just wasn’t Benedict. He was more into keeping his women a secret as opposed to showing up with a bouquet of flowers and offering them to you with a bright smile on his face. That was more like his other two brothers. And maybe that was why they were both married and Benedict wasn’t.

Perhaps he was just the kind that professed his feelings behind closed doors only to ignore the woman when it came to being in public with her. And you were honestly okay with that as long as he kissed you like he had in the garden. That would have been perfectly fine in your eyes.

Your mother entered your bedroom as your lady’s maid tightened your corset and you were surprised to see her since she hadn’t really been around since your father had passed. She had been much nicer and understanding, almost as if Augustus had been the one to make her that way, but you knew that hadn’t been true. He never stopped her, but he certainly didn’t encourage her behavior.

“Here’s the dress,” she held it up and you gasped at just how perfect it was. It was exactly something you had wanted to wear and for once, she had listened to you.

The dress was a pretty light shade of pink and had a tulle overlay with white flowers all over the bottom. It was one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen and you were nothing but excited to put it on.

Once you were dressed and your hair and makeup were done, your mother stood behind you and you watched her smile as she rested her hands on your shoulders, looking at you through the mirror just like she always looked at your sister. Like she was actually proud of you.

“You look beautiful,” she told you and you were suspicious of her sudden niceness.

“Thank you, mother,” you nodded, unsure how to take her compliment since you had never heard her say a single nice thing to you ever in your life. She always saved those words for Lilith.

“Oh, almost forgot,” she laughed, handing you your mask. She then fled the room and you followed her to see that your sister was already waiting in the foyer. She had also been suspiciously nice to you and you wondered what sort of trick she and your mother had up their sleeves.

Her dress was very similar to yours, only it was a light blue which looked beautiful against her skin. She gasped when you descended the stairs and you couldn’t help but mimic her smile once you came face to face. She reached out for your hands and you hesitantly let her take them, still unsure what exactly was going on.

“Sister,” she said, giving your hands a squeeze. “You look positively beautiful.”

“I bet you’re just happy that I’m going to be wearing a mask so I don’t embarrass you,” you grumbled and both Lilith and your mother laughed while they each stood on either side of you, looping their arms through yours.

“You always were so funny, y/n,” Lilith said through laughs and sure, you got a laugh out of what you had said, but didn’t like it was as funny as they seemed to. Something was definitely up and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

The three of you got into the carriage and you fiddled with your necklace, thinking about the fact that this was going to be the first ball without your father. For once, you really were going to have to face it alone. Sure, you’d have Kate and Anthony to keep you company, but they weren’t family like your father was. Perhaps that was why Vivian and Lilith were being so nice. To finally make amends after making your entire life up until that point a living hell.

As much as you didn’t want to forgive so easily, you thought that it would be best to anyway, not wanting to repeat what had happened with your father. You couldn’t carry anymore guilt, the weight getting too heavy on your shoulders. You were going to be just as nice to them because you knew that was what your father had wanted, even though you wanted nothing more than to never speak to them again.

The carriage rolled up to the Bridgerton home and you realized you hadn’t been there in the few months you had been back, but the memories of the place were still fresh in your mind. You were hoping to finally see Francesca since you hadn’t had a chance to. And maybe you were also hoping to see her brother as well. Hoping that he would save a dance for you and that you’d be able to have his undivided attention as the two of you moved around the room, his hazel eyes looking into yours.

You pulled down your mask as you headed inside and were happy to have at least a little bit of anonymity even though you knew it was going to be very easy for people to figure out who you were. But still, you loved the idea of having your face partially covered so it wasn’t as obvious when you didn’t make eye contact with anyone you talked to that night.

Benedict had no intention of attending his mother’s ball until he found out that you were going to be there. He had promised himself that he was going to stay away from you so you could find someone more worthy, but fuck that. He still wanted to have his way with you and maybe that night, he’d get lucky, There was a perfectly good office that wouldn’t be in use the entire ball.

Maybe the two of you would have had time to sneak off and have a quickie before no one even noticed you were gone. He could imagine covering your mouth as you moaned as he fucked int you, not wanting you to bee too loud so your moment wouldn’t be disturbed. He had gotten a little taste of what you sounded like at the gallery and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since. His dreams had been nothing but filthy for the past few nights and he was just looking forward to making them become a reality.

Benedict watched you enter the house and he had to hold back his gasp at how absolutely beautiful you looked. The pink shade looked so good against your skin and the mask you were wearing matched it perfectly. He then turned to your sister, who also looked beautiful, but not nearly as much as you. Lilith should have been the one he was interested in with her being the diamond and all, but if he was being honest, he thought Lilith was nothing but a fake. Someone who only cared about someone’s status and not their personality.

He had seen your sister eye him the entire season so far and he avoided that woman like the plague. Anytime she would approach him, he would make an excuse to leave so he wouldn’t have to speak to her, or worse, have to dance with her. Because if he talked with a woman, long enough, he felt obligated to do so and he had no intention of dancing with or even so much as making eye contact with Lilith.

Benedict made a beeline for you as you got further into the house, but Kate had beat you to the punch. He supposed he could have let his sister have a moment with you before he asked you to dance. Especially since he wanted you to enjoy enough of the event before he whisked you away.

“You look absolutely lovely,” Kate complimented as she took your hands and you eyed her beautiful olive green dress and her mask that matched.

“Thank you, you too.”

“Oh, thank you,” she squeezed your hands then turned to stand next to you, linking her arm with yours as you both surveyed the room. You watched Benedict cross the room to make his way towards you and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. He was dressed in navy blue and had a gold mask sitting on his face. You didn’t know how you knew that it was him with his disguise, but you just did.

A smile made its way upon his face as he approached you and he wordlessly held his hand out to you. You took it and he led you out onto the floor before joining your hands and resting his hand on your shoulder blade and yours rested on his. The music changed and you both moved about the room, no words being spoken. All you had to do was look in each other’s eyes to say what you needed to.

You could see Benedict leaning towards you and for a second, it seemed like he was going to kiss you. But he wasn’t going to do that with all of those people around. He wouldn’t do something so inappropriate. But why did you kind of want him to?

He brought his lips to your ear and feeling his hot breath on your ear brought you back to the gallery. You really wished he would have just pulled you into a room and had his way with you and thinking those kinds of thoughts made you feel guilty considering that he wasn’t your husband, but not guilty enough to stop them.

“You look fucking beautiful tonight.” His voice was raspy and you tried your best not to moan at the sound of it.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You asked as he pulled back to look at him, batting your eyelashes as he did so.

“I can’t tell you when there are so many people around.” You felt your heart race in your chest as you realized what he was insinuating. You had always been taught that sex was something that happened between a married man and woman and now here you were, offering your body to Benedict on a silver platter when you were nothing to him except someone he could use.

Before you could register what you were doing, you pushed his arms off of you and took off for the nearest room you could lock yourself in. You pushed through multiple groups of people to get to the outside of the circle everyone had formed around the dance floor. You turned to see that Benedict was following you and opened the first door you could find.

You closed yourself in the nearest room which just so happened to be Anthony’s study. You took a deep breath as you tried to collect your thoughts, feeling them all swirl around in your brain. It was all becoming too much to take. You couldn’t be in love with him. You didn’t even know what love looked like since everyone around you didn’t seem to show you any.

you felt tears well up in your eyes as you turned your back to the door, knowing that you had really fucked everything up this time. There was someone who wanted you, but you were so caught up in your insecurities that you couldn’t even let him love you.

The door burst open causing it to hit the wall with how much force was used. You whipped around and there was Benedict, looking like he had just run a mile. He was breathing heavily, his shirt was unbuttoned and his hair was a total mess.

As soon as he caught sight of you, he made a beeline for you, taking you into his arms, letting out a contented sigh that he had finally found you. A grin broke out on his face and normally, that would have made you melt, but not this time. You were not going to be another one of his whores.

“Benedict, you need to leave now.” You couldn’t bear to see him. You needed him so badly and knew it was wrong to engage in that kind of activity without being married, but you had already done so, so what was one more time? So he had to leave.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You knew he was telling the truth. He was so stubborn. More so than you, in fact and you knew that he really wouldn’t leave the room until you told him the truth.

“I have nothing to say.” You had so much to say, but none of it was appropriate. It was pure filth and it sat on your tongue, begging to be uttered to him, but you couldn’t do it. Not now. Not ever.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you ran. We were having a great time and you left with no warning. Again. I think I deserve an explanation.” He did, but you weren’t going to give him one. You couldn’t. Not without telling him the truth and there was no way in hell that you were doing that.

“I’m not telling you anything. I would like to be alone so please leave.” You pointed to the door and you seemed to be just as fired up as you were at the gallery. He liked the side of you. The side that liked to get a little mean and authoritative.

He leaned down so that his face was just inches above yours, a devilish smirk forming on his lips as he spoke.

“Make me.” Oh, you were going to make him. There was no doubt about that.

“Fine.” You began to push on his chest, put he just leaned forward, his hands meeting the desk as he did so, caging you in.

“Benedict, please-“ he cut you off by pushing your dress up. He sat you on the desk and spread your legs wide to get a good look, looking up at you with a devilish smirk as he caught sight of your sopping wet cunt.

“Look at you, darling. Been thinking a lot about me, huh?” He winked. “Well, no wonder you’re so frustrated with me. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.”

“What are you-“ your sentence was cut off by his pants dropping to his ankles, your eyes widening as his cock came into view. God, he was huge. You weren’t able to stare at it long because he pounded it into you, causing you to make a sound you had never made before. And Benedict loved hearing it, deciding that it was better than he could ever imagined.

“So tight,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry, you’ll be so loose by the time I’m done with you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead then thrusted in and out of you and watched the way your mouth opened wide as you let out another moan. One hand gripped your waist as he put his hand over your mouth, not wanting you to get too loud and ruin your good time before it had even really started.

“You have to be quiet,” he said harshly and you just nodded. “Can you be quiet for me darling? I promise the next time we’ll do it somewhere more convenient because you have no idea how much I want to hear you scream my name.”

He continued to pump in and out of you, his eyes moving down to your tits, hypnotized by the way they moved underneath your dress. He decided that he really needed to see them. He wanted to watch them bounce as he fucked into you again and again.

He pulled your dress over your head and tossed it behind him before reaching for your corset, untying it without even seeing it because he had done that exact thing more times than he could count. Once it was off, he took in your bare chest, deciding that they had looked even better than he imagined in the many dreams he had about you doing the exact thing you had been doing right then. But he wasn’t dreaming then. You were just a dream.

“You look-“ he cut himself off, feeling drool collect in his mouth as he thought about it sucking on your tits. But he didn’t do stuff like that. He just fucked. There was no foreplay or lead up. That wasn’t who he was. “Fucking heavenly.”

Then why did he want to kiss you until you were both breathless then fuck you soft and slow, making sure that you enjoyed every single moment? Who was he becoming because this definitely wasn’t the version of himself that he had grown to know.

He wiped the thought away and pounded into you, pushing your back onto the desk, as he moved everything out of the way, letting it all crash to the floor, not even caring that it made a loud clatter. He fucked into you, as hard and as fast as he could, trying to fit all of himself inside you and watching your eyes water as you managed to take every single inch of his dick. He continued to pound into you, watching you come completely undone as he fucked you roughly, watching your back arch as you moaned loudly, the sound becoming music to his ears. You collapsed onto the desk and he scooped you up into his arms, watching your head fall back as he desperately tried to hold you there, making sure that you were still okay to keep going.

“Can’t go dumb on me yet, darling. This is only the appetizer.” That broke something in you and you pressed a kiss to his lips before urging him to continue. He pushed you back onto the desk and kept you there, pinning you to it by your wrists as he continued to pound into you, watching you eat up the way he was fucking you, moaning when he wanted you to and arching your back in just the right moments.

He felt himself reach his climax and let out moans of his own, your name falling from his lips as he did so and you felt yourself become a goddamn puddle at hearing him moan your name. He then pulled out just in time to watch a mixture of your slick and his cum leak onto the floor and he had to hold himself back from licking up every last drop, not wanting any of it to go to waste.

Benedict pulled out of you and motioned for you to turn around. You did as he asked and he bent you over the desk, slamming his dick into you, pressing his chest to your back as he rested his hand on top of yours, lacing his fingers through yours, giving them a tight squeeze. He continued to pound into you as you leaned against the desk, already feeling tired from the activity, but you were going to hold out as long as you could, wanting to feel the other ways he was willing to scandalize your body.

Benedict continued to pump in and out of you as roughly as possible, feeling around for something in particular and smiling to himself when he found it. His hand found a mirror that was sitting on the desk and he turned it around, pushing it to sit in front of you and tilting it backwards so he could see you just right.

“Look at how good you’re taking me,” he commanded, his tone still soft despite the way his hand was gripping yours with such force.

He took you by your chin and forced you to look in the mirror, him watching nothing but you as he pounded his dick into you and you were able to see how undone he was able to make you.

Your mouth widened as you let out another moan and you had to admit that you were kind of loving seeing yourself like that and your eyes shifted to Benedict who was looking down at you like he wanted to eat you whole.

“So good,” you whined and he continued, elated that you were being vocal about how much you were enjoying yourself. If you hadn’t, he would have put the whole thing to a stop, your comfort being his number one priority. Sure, he liked the degrade you, but only with your consent.

“See? Look at you, taking it like the little whore you are.“ He pounded into you once more and you reached your orgasm, your moans the loudest they had been and Benedict was quick to cover your mouth once again.

He gave your ass a slap and you let out a yelp at the stinging sensation, but that didn’t mean you didn’t like it. In fact, you wanted him to do it again and again until your skin couldn’t take it anymore.

“What did I tell you about being quiet?” He asked through grit teeth. “Am I going to have to teach you a lesson about what happens when you disobey me?”

“Please,” you whined and he just smirked at you through the mirror. He grabbed onto your necklace and gave it a tug, causing a choking sound to escape your throat. You felt your cunt get even more wet at the feeling of the necklace pressing into your skin and became concerned that you enjoyed the feeling.

“Yeah? You like that, whore? Like it when I choke you like this?” He pulled a little harder and you noticed the pressure was relieved, looking into the mirror to see that the necklace had broken in his hand. Benedict looked at you apologetically then tossed the necklace aside on the desk. He’d buy you another one later.

He pulled out of you and turned you around to face him, pushing you against the desk as he pressed his lips to yours in a rough kiss. You gasped into his mouth then sat there, pliant to his kiss as he took what he wanted from you. You moved your lips with his hesitantly, unsure of whether you were doing it right.

“That’s right, darling,” he encouraged. “Just like that.” His lips continued to move with yours, rougher but slower, taking his time like he had so much of it even though it was only a matter of time before people started to look for you.

Benedict cradled your face in his hands, pressing his thumbs into your chin, pulling down on it so he had more access to your mouth. He slid his tongue inside and let it swirl around yours, loving the sounds it was pulling from you, loving the feeling of your hot breath on his lips as you moaned his name.

“Benedict,” you did your best to moan quietly and he pulled away, looking down at you as lust glazed over his eyes.

“No,” he shook his head. “As long as we’re in the bedroom, you call me daddy.”

“Daddy,” you repeated, the word in that context feeling foreign, but you didn’t hate it.

“Just like that.” If fucking you was always going to be like this, then Benedict was definitely going to get rid of all of his other whores.

He took two of his fingers and buried them inside of you, making sure to cover your mouth as you let out a moan. He pumped into you and the sounds you were making sounded delicious even through his hand that was muffling them.

“So good, daddy,” you whined and Benedict’s cock twitch at that. You were so hot and you didn’t even know it.

“Yeah? You like when my fingers fuck you?” He asked and you nodded, white knuckling the desk once again, almost afraid to touch him, also most as if his body was off limits. “You can touch me, darling. In fact, I encourage it. Want you to scratch up my back.” He helped you lean into him, giving him more access to your cunt, your legs pressing tightly against his wrist as his fingers continued to fuck you.

You removed his shirt as best you could, the thing only hanging off his arm since you didn’t want him to remove himself from you. Your hands scratched up and down his back in reaction to your pleasure and he let out a whimper as your nails met his back, wanting you to bring some of his skin with them.

Your head fell backwards as you reached your second orgasm, but Benedict kept his fingers inside you, hoping he could get you to your third one of the night. He gave you a few more pumps before removing his fingers, slowly moving them up to his mouth. His tongue fell out and he gave his fingers a slow lick, watching drool collect in your mouth as you watched him, your eyes glazing over with lust. He had you right where he wanted you.

“Want a taste, darling?” He asked and you nodded, your eyes widening as you did so. Benedict stepped forward, tilting your chin up, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he stuck his fingers into your mouth. “Give ‘em a suck,” he instructed. “You know you want to.”

You sucked on his fingers and he swore he was going to cum right there, watching you scandalize his fingers. He had made countless women come undone and he was afraid that you were doing the exact same thing to him and you weren’t even aware of it. His little shy girl driving him absolutely wild and having no clue what she was even doing.

“Lick them clean.” He stuck his fingers further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Your eyes watered as you gagged a little more and he pulled his fingers out a little bit, but you grabbed his wrist and put his fingers further into your mouth, almost down your throat and your eyes watered more as you gagged again, but you didn’t want him to stop. His fingers fucked your mouth and you sucked on them, licking your slick clean from them.

“Yeah? Like it when I make you gag, huh? Like the way my fingers feel in your throat? You look so pretty wrapped around them, darling. Bet you’d look even prettier wrapped around my cock.” You nodded at that, desperate to know just what he tasted like. “Wanna suck me off, darling?” He took his fingers out of your mouth so you could give a verbal response and you nodded again.

“Use your words.” He grabbed onto your face and forced you to look him in the eye. He squeezed your cheeks so tight that you felt a little pinch, but you hardly minded. In fact, you didn’t mind at all.

“Want to so bad, daddy!” His cock twitched again at that and he decided that needed you to suck him off right then or he swore that he wasn’t going to make it. He let out a whine as cum spilled from his cock and you looked down at it, feeling drool pool as you thought about it in your mouth.

“Look at you, so needy for me.” He wiped the drool from your chin and removed his hands from your face. “On your knees.” His tone was now more forceful but you liked it. You loved being told what to do and the degradation that came with it.

You got onto your knees and came face to face with his leaking cock and Benedict grabbed onto the edge of the desk, pressing the backs of his thighs into it as you looked up to him for instruction.

“What do you want me to do, daddy?” You bat your eyelashes and Benedict’s cock hardened right there, loving the way you looked so innocent but about to do something so filthy. The juxtaposition was driving him wild.

“Gotta take me into your mouth first. Put your hand at the base,” he said, his tone soft again. You grabbed onto the base just like he told you to and took him into your mouth and he swore he was going to come undone right there just by seeing your lips wrapped around him. He was convinced that was the prettiest you’d ever looked.

“Okay, now you gotta use your tongue. Swirl it around the head.” You did as he asked and he shuddered, throwing his head back as he let out a whimper but looked back down at you, the two of you maintaining eye contact as you licked up every last bit of his cum. “Now give it a suck.” You gave the head a suck and Benedict let out a loud moan at that, quickly covering his mouth as soon as it left. There was no way you hadn’t sucked a cock before. You were just so good at it that it just wasn’t possible that you were doing it for the first time.

You licked and sucked on his dick and you loved watching him come undone for a change. You watched him white knuckle the desk as he threw his head back, moaning your name over and over, causing your cunt to become a mess, feeling your slick pour from you as his delicious sounds met your ears.

“So good. Swear you can do this any time you want.” You were definitely going to take him up on that offer.

You removed your hand from him and just when he thought you were done, you grabbed onto his ass, pushing his dick as far as it would go into your mouth, desperate to have all of him. He looked down, his mouth falling open as he watched you take every single inch of him into your mouth. Your eyes were watering and you were staring to gag, but that wasn’t going to deter you.

Your tongue swirled around wherever you could reach as you continued to suck on him, watching his knees buckle as you hit just the right spot to make him absolutely lose it. Your fingers dug into his ass cheeks and he let out a yelp, wanting you to cause so much damage that he could look into a mirror and see bruise marks from how hard you were digging your finger tips into him.

“God, fuck, I’m gonna-“ his sentence was cut off by a huge wad of cum hitting the back of your throat as he let out the loudest moan of the night, surely on the verge of making people want to enter the room because of the disturbance.

He folded in on himself as you took his dick out of your mouth. He looked up at you and took your face in his hands again, looking at your glazed over eyes.

“Swallow,” he instructed, his breathing still labored. You did as he said and felt the cum go down your throat as he push your mouth open to make sure that you had actually swallowed it and looked down at you with that damn devilish smirk that should have been illegal.

“Good girl,” he gave your cheek a pat then got onto his knees in front of you. He pushed you roughly so your back hit the floor and he was quick to spread your legs, looking down at your pussy, ready to get a taste for himself.

“You look good enough to eat, darling. And I’m fucking starving.” He licked his lips slowly, looking down at your cunt as if it was a full course meal and he hadn’t eaten in days.

He went to remove your shoes and socks as slowly as he could, watching you whine for him, wanting to edge you now since everything else had happened so quickly. He slowly got your shoes off and took your left leg gently in his hands, removing your socks as slowly as he could, watching you beg for him as you did so which only made him move slower.

“Relax, darling,” he hushed you. “It’s going to be okay. Daddy’s going to take care of you in a minute.” Your socks were removed and he grabbed hold of your ankles, pressing feather light kisses to your left leg, complimenting you as he did you, telling you just how pretty he thought you were. This was going to be the main event, so he was going to have to put on a show.

Once he got to the top of your thigh, he hovered his face right above your cunt, taking a sharp inhale of your scent before giving the thing a slow, long lick causing you to arch your back just like he wanted.

“Just a second. You really need to relax,” he told you harshly. “I’m clearly working here.” He kissed up your right leg and you were so desperate for the feeling that you slowly inched your way down to your sopping wet cunt, needing to get your release.

You stuck your fingers up it just like Benedict had and you let out a moan, causing him to pause his loving on your leg. He slowly turned to you and looked down at your hand placement, his eyes widening at the fact that you were so needy that you felt the need to pleasure yourself. Maybe he’d like to watch you instead.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, immediately removing your fingers from yourself, but Benedict stopped you, putting his hand over yours and guiding it back to your entrance.

“No, keep going,” he urged. “Wanna watch you.”

“You want to…watch me? I thought you wanted to-“

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” he cut you off, his tone becoming harsh again and your cunt was becoming more needy for attention by the second. “Wanna watch you make yourself come undone. Now stick your finger back where they were.”

You did as he told you and stuck your fingers back up your cunt, trying to remember what Benedict had done earlier. You pumped in and out and he watched you with hungry eyes as your fingers fucked you, your eyes shutting tight in pleasure as you came undone at your own touches.

He was becoming jealous. Jealous of your fingers, desperate to lick them clean. Desperate to have another taste of you, wanting to be the one to give you that kind of pleasure. But he was getting so hard watching you that he was willing to wait until you came.

You moaned at the feeling, whines getting caught in your throat as you imagined Benedict’s tongue lapping up every last bit of your slick, telling you just how good you tasted as you pulled on his hair as hard as you could.

Just as Benedict was getting into it, you removed your fingers from yourself and his mouth watered at just how wet with slick your fingers were. He leaned over without a second thought and gave them a suck, swirling his tongue around them to get every last bit before removing them from his mouth.

As soon as he was done, he shoved his face into your cunt and you let out a gasp as his nose brushed it. He took no time to lick a stripe from your slit to your clit and you grabbed onto his hair and gave it a yank as he lowered himself to the floor, draping your legs over your shoulder as he did so.

He moved his tongue up and down, giving you a taste before pulling back a bit, causing you to let out another whine. You were just too easy to tease and he was always going to take the opportunity to do so.

“There’s no need to get greedy, darling.” He smiled up at you and you reached down to your cunt again, but Benedict grabbed hold of your wrist and gave it a tight squeeze, his eyes filling with anger.

“Stop acting like a spoiled brat or I’m going to leave you to finish the job yourself. I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Now be quiet, darling, I’m about to do my best work.” With that, he buried his face back into your cunt and took no time to stick his tongue up it, pulling a moan from you as you gave his hair a yank.

His tongue hit just the right spot and your back arched in absolute euphoria. You yanked his hair again and let out your loudest moan yet, reaching your third orgasm for the night which even for Benedict was a record. He should have known that he could make you cum every single time. He was just that good.

“Benny,” you screamed and Benedict stopped at that. You had never called him that and why did he kind of like that more than being called daddy? Daddy was his go to, but with you, it was different. He liked your nicknames for him.

He removed his face from your cunt and licked up every last bit of slick he could reach from his face then placed himself on top of you, pulling you in for a filthy kiss, swirling his tongue around yours before pulling away.

“Did so well, darling,” he complimented as he wiped some of your baby hairs from your forehead, admiring the way you looked up at him with hearts in your eyes as if he didn’t just do some of the filthiest things to you that would have sent any normal woman running.

“Got one more in you? Promise I’ll be gentle.” He brushed some more hair away from your forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

“One more,” you slurred and Benedict knew he didn’t have long until you were too far gone to consent so he was going to have to work quick.

“Wanna be on top?” He asked and you nodded enthusiastically. If he was being honest, he just wanted to see your tits bounce again as he fucked you senseless.

Benedict laid on the floor and you straddled his waist, situating yourself onto his dick, you both letting out moans as he entered you. You reached out and covered each other’s mouths as you began to ride him as he coached you, telling you exactly what to do.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like that. A little faster now.” You bucked your hips into his, back and forth and Benedict was hypnotized by the way your tits bounced up and down as you rode him, finding himself wanting to know what they tasted like, wanting to feel your back arch into him as you pulled one of them into his mouth, giving it a rough suck.

“Love riding you, daddy,” you whined and Benedict knew he was done for. Hearing your pathetic whines mixed with his nickname was making him lose his goddamn mind. It was so unfair how fucking how you were and how so unaware you were of it.

“I know, honey,” he managed to get out through labored breaths. “Look so pretty when you’re riding me.”

“I thought I looked pretty with your cock in my mouth,” you bat your eyelashes and he knew that you knew exactly what you were doing. You were beating him at his own game and you didn’t even have to try.

You could see him staring at your tits and decided to have a little fun of your own. Two could play that game. You leaned over and moved up so that your tits were hanging in his face, moving them back and forth as you watched the drool dribble down his chin.

“Know you wanna suck on them.” Benedict’s eyes widened as he realized that he had created a monster. “Want to do it so bad, don’t you?” You asked. “I can see you drooling baby, now open up.” Benedict opened his mouth with no hesitation and his lips wrapped around your nipple, giving it a suck as he licked a stripe across it, causing you to gasp.

He sucked and licked as his hands moved to your back, pushing you farther down onto him so he had more access to you. He pulled the thing between his teeth and gave it a pull, eliciting a moan from your lips that was particularly higher pitched than the other ones. He had you right where he wanted you, pliant to his touch as he worked his magic.

“Benny,” you whined. “So good, Benny. Need more.” He bit down harder and you practically screamed at the sound, covering your own mouth this time, wondering how no one had caught you yet.

He quickly moved onto your other nipple and didn’t even work his way up to the bite, just going for it, pulling another loud scream from you. Once he was done, he pulled away, wanting to get a good look at your tits shining with his spit, the bruises already forming around your nipples.

“Are you going to stare at my tits all night or are you going to finally fuck me, Mr. Bridgerton?” You raised an eyebrow and that did it. He pushed you to the floor and pinned you there, pounding into you as he his hands moved to your wrists so you couldn’t move.

“Watch your mouth or it won’t end well for you.”

“Oh? And what are you going to do to me, daddy? Spank me?”

“Maybe later if you’re a good girl and listen to me. Right now, I’m going to absolutely rail you.” He pumped in and out the fastest he could, knowing that he was running out of time since the ball was ending and knew that Anthony would make a beeline for his office to work on paperwork like he always did late at night. If he caught the two of you, he’d have Benedict’s head.

He managed to finish inside you one last time as he heard the chatter of people leaving, letting himself actually moan because everything was so loud that people definitely wouldn’t have been able to hear him. Your moans mixed together as you felt him release and he pulled out of you as he heard someone stomping down the hallway.

You both hurried to put your clothes back on and Benedict helped you put on your undergarments, your hearts racing because you were convinced you were going to get caught. After you were good to go, Benedict took you by the hand and slowly opened the door only for it to creak loudly in the silence of the house.

You both cringed at the noise but he still pulled you out of the office but quickly pushed you back in, shutting the door behind you.

“He’s right behind me.”

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll handle this.”

“How?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. You just run when I say to.”

“Yes ma’am.” You let go of his hand and slipped out the door only to literally run into Anthony causing the two of you to fall to the floor. Anthony was quick to pull you to your feet and you moved him further to the side so he wouldn’t see his brother slip out the door.

“What were you doing in my office?” He asked, and you were able to come up with something on the spot which was surprising to you since your mind usually went blank.

“I was just…looking for the bathroom.” Anthony definitely wasn’t buying that and needed to find out what was really going on.

“Y/n, what-“ as soon as you noticed that he was trying to get the truth out of you, you dropped to the floor and clutched your ankle.

Benedict took the opportunity to slip out of the room and head up the stairs as quickly as possible and you put on the performance of lifetime, pretending that you had hurt your ankle. God, he was so going to fuck you good for saving him like that.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” Anthony asked as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“My ankle,” you told him, tears welling up in your eyes. Anthony went to lift your dress but you pushed his hand away, not wanting him to see that you defiantly had not hurt your ankle. You watch Benedict ascend the stairs and decided that your work was done.

“Where does it hurt? Do you need a doctor?” Worry was written all over his face and you were trying to figure out how you were going to get out of your lie and get to Benedict who was waiting for you in his room, desperate and needy for your wet cunt. You stood up from the floor quickly as Benedict stood at the railing waving you over.

“Would you look at that,” you laughed nervously as you moved your ankle back and forth, showing Anthony that you were actually just fine and he just stared at you, not fully believing whatever you were hinting at. “I’ve made a miraculous recovery.” There was something weird going on and Anthony was going to get to the bottom of it, even if he wasn’t sure that he wanted to.

“Where’s the restroom?” You asked, a sheepish smile making its way upon your face and Anthony eyed you, not quite sure if he should have asked you what was going on. He didn’t think that it was his business and you didn’t seem to be in any danger, so he supposed that he could let it slide just this once.

“Just down the hall.” He pointed to the right and you made a beeline in that direction.

Once you were gone, Anthony shook his head and opened his office door, a gasp escaping his lips as he took in the state of the room. Every single thing that had been on his desk was in the floor, some of them broken. It looked like someone had broken in and he had absolutely no idea how it could have gotten like that when he knew that no one had entered the room the entire night. Unless…

Something wasn’t adding up. Had you trashed his office or worse, had someone harmed you while the ball was going on? He supposed that would have explained why you had been behaving so oddly. Or maybe you really had just been looking for the bathroom. He trusted you and had hoped that you wouldn’t have done something like that to him. The whole thing was giving him a giant a headache and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with it. That was, until he noticed a necklace on the floor under his desk, catching the light of a diamond necklace. He hadn’t recognize it, but maybe it was Kate’s. That would have been the only person who would have had any reason to enter the office.

Anthony pocketed the necklace then turned off his lamp, deciding that he would eat with the mess in the morning. It was too late and he was too tired to wrap his head around what could have happened during the party. Once the lamp was off, he made his way towards the door and opened it, looking around for you, but he supposed you just left and hoped that you had gotten home safely.

As soon as Anthony’s office door closed, you raced up the stairs to meet Benedict. He took you into his arms and pressed a kiss to your waiting lips before leading you to his room. As soon as the door was closed, Benedict pulled you in for another kiss, taking no time to lick int your mouth, his hands pushing up your dress up, but you pushed him away. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he wasn’t going to blame you for not wanting it. Maybe the moment had passed.

“What’s wrong, darling? Do you not want to fuck me anymore?” He jutted out his bottom lip and maybe earlier you’d have fallen for it, but not now. Not tonight. You were now aware of his game and had every intention of beating him at it.

“I didn’t say that,” you bat your eyelashes again and he was convinced that you knew exactly what you were doing now.

“Then what do you want? Name it and it’s yours.” Benedict expected you at least think about what you wanted, but you spoke before he could even take a guess.

“I want you to beg.” Pardon? You wanted him to what? Had he heard you right? Because there was no way that his little innocent darling was actually asking him to beg. That was his job. He figured you had at least had a few more rounds in you before you started ordering him around.

“What was that, darling?” He asked, leaning down so that his ear was right by your mouth. “I couldn’t quite hear you.” He could hear you quite well, but wanted you to repeat yourself with confidence.

“I said I want you to beg.” Your voice was the loudest he ever heard you and he loved how confident you were around him. How you were able to tell him exactly what you wanted and he’d give it to you on a silver platter.

“Y/n, what-“

“Down,” you pointed to the floor in front of you. “On your knees.” Benedict quickly obliged and lowered down onto his knees. His hands took yours and he pressed a kiss to each one.

“Please,” he begged and you almost gave it in right there, but wanted more. You wanted him to be on the verge of tears. You wanted him to be practically sobbing as he begged for you to bed him.

“I need a little more,” you told him and he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face into your stomach, pressing kissing to it.

“Please, please, darling. I need you,” he whined and you pulled his head away from you, tucking your finger under his chin and lifting his head to look at you. The devilish grin was now yours and he wasn’t sure how long he could last with his cock tenting in his pants.

“Gotta look at me when you say it, Benny. Wanna see your face when you cry out for me.” And the student became the master. That was it. He had nothing left to teach you.

“Darling, please,” he begged as he took a big swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, choking back tears. His hands stayed on your waist as his hands rubbed up and down them. “I promise I’ll be a good boy.”

“Oh, I know you will be,” you gave his cheek a pat before pulling him to his feet and he was having a hard time standing up, but he got there eventually. He pulled you into his arms, making sure that you were flush to his chest before pulling you in for yet another kiss, this one softer than the others.

Your hands slowly moved to his shirt and you unbuttoned it as his lips moved with yours, your tongue swiping along his bottom lip. He opened up and you let your tongue scratch along his roughly.

You got his shirt open and pushed him onto the bed, lowering yourself on top of him as you removed your dress in one swift motion before capturing his lips with yours once again. You removed your corset and let your body be flush with his and he loved the way your tits felt pressed against his chest.

Your hands reached for his breeches and you unbuttoned then pulled them down, his cock springing free, just as hard as it had been before. You settled onto his cock and began to ride him, moving slowly, your fingers digging into his chest as his hands moved to your waist. You watched him beneath you, his eyes on yours as let out moan after moan and he wondered how you had gotten so good at it after only riding him once.

“Know exactly how I like it, darling,” he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Yeah? You asked, your nails scratching down his chest. “So glad I can please you, Benny.”

“Could do this all night,” he said, his hands moving to your ass and you let out a yelp as he dug his fingers into them. You took his hands and pulled them up to your mouth, giving them a gentle kiss.

“No, Benny,” you shook your head. “We’re going to do it my way right now.”

“And what’s your way, hm?”

“Soft and sweet.”

“Darling, you’re definitely sweet, but you’re not soft,” he let out a chuckle and you proceeded to ride him, picking up your pace, but not exactly doing it how he was liking it. He didn’t mind, though. As long as you were on top of him, he didn’t care what you did.

He let out a moan as your hips bucked against his and you watched his back arch in pleasure as he reached his orgasm, his hands squeezing yours for dear life as he finished inside of you.

“Christ,” was all he had to say as he ejaculated inside of you, his back hitting the mattress as he let out a loud exhale.

You got off of him then lowered your body down onto his, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Your hands reached for his once again and you intertwined them, letting them rest together on the mattress.

Your lips moved down to his neck and licked a stripe across it, wanting to know what it tasted like. It was salty from the sweat and you liked the flavor on your tongue. Benedict talked you through giving him a hickey and you did exactly as he instructed and just by his moans, you could tell that he was coming undone underneath you.

“So good,” he whined. “You’re a fast learner.”

“Well, I’ve learned from the best,” you told him as you pulled away to get a look at your work, the skin a reddish purple and shining with your spit. Benedict pulled you down onto him and flipped the both of you over so he was the one on top and he moved your sweaty baby hairs down off of your forehead as a smile broke out on his face.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss l/n,” he said as he pressed a final kiss to your lips before pulling the covers over your bodies. He pulled you to his chest and placed a kiss to your forehead and you both closed your eyes, having no problem drifting off to sleep after all of the activities you just took part in.

“And the same goes to you, Mr, Bridgerton.”

You dreamed so peacefully that night, the only thing in your mind being Benedict and the beautiful life you could have built with him. You were hoping that after all the things that you did together that he’d make you his wife even if it was just wishful thinking.

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More. | 2

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: short, no smut! (surprisingly), just fluffy shit for father’s day <44 😘

SUMMARY: Congratulations! You had the twins! time to deal with lewis and his new dad antics (again), but first, here’s two cute moments.

(1)

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“You happy now?”

You stare at your husband through tired and teary eyes, watching him cradle your daughter in his arms. You had just gone through twenty hours of labor, spending half of those hours at home and in pain and the other half in the hospital. When you got there you could barely walk, every contraction you felt striking your belly and back which made your knees weak. You swore hours earlier it was just braxton hicks, but your twins soon proved you wrong. Very, very wrong.

When you heard both their cries erupt in the room, you smiled in victory as you were finally done with the most crucial part.

“You did so good, love”

Lewis praised you with stray tears he could no longer hold in trailing down his cheeks, a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead before he did the same to the twins. The boy who was born first, with no surprise, looked exactly like Lewis. He was a spitting imagine of your other set of twins when they were babies, but that daughter of yours? All you. Exactly three minutes apart, when she arrived the nurses were starting to wonder if Lewis was in the room at all when she was conceived.

You looked at the two newborns, just as proud of your work as god himself was.

“You know, I was gonna lose it if she was a boy” You spoke while gently brushing your fingers through your son’s soft hair. Lewis chuckles and lays besides you in the hospital bed, his eyes switching attention from baby to baby, but never letting go of his babygirl. You smile and let him have his moment. You knew the hogging was mostly because of him being in shock that he actually got his girl, He’d be all over your son also come morning time.

“I’m in awe how much she looks like you. Usually they don’t look like anyone right away but wow…she’s all you, Y/N” Lewis expresses, a finger caressing her blushed cheek. You just nod in agreement, laughing at how her hair stuck up in the front like spikes while everything else laid down. Lewis was too busy gushing over both of them to point out how silly either of them looked.

✮✮✮✮

When you two took the babies home, it was hard to keep the twins away from them. Your boys were there peeking over your shoulder at every feeding, every burping, every changing, even every bath. They had started to ask when they’d be big enough to play with, a toy in both of their hands as they waited for your answer. Before you could speak, Lewis was already speaking, serving them with the facts while simultaneously burping the baby in his arms.

“They won’t be able to play with you two for a while. They’re too small right now and they don’t do much but sleep and eat”

Your boys pouted, one rolling his eyes back dramatically. “Well, that’s boring! They’re boring!” Silas, the older one huffed, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Both you and Lewis cackled, but the boys found nothing funny. “Yes, babies are boring for the first few months”

“Why’d you go and get two more then?” Silas’s face scrunched as he asked and you tried helplessly not to laugh so loud at the poor baby that the infant in your arms would jump out of her sleep.

“Yeah, Lewis…Why did we ‘get’ two more?” Egging it on, you look back at your husband for another answer, your face riddled with amusement as he completely curves the question. “Any questions other than that? Saint?”

“So they can’t throw a ball? or catch it?” Saint inquired as he went back to the previous topic, sitting next to his brother. You shake your head ‘no’ and they both sigh.

“And they can’t talk either?” Silas asks, earning another laugh from you and Lewis. You two thought the constant questions would stop at three, but your boys were a curious pair. You’d only hope the next set were a bit more tame but with how the universe humbled you the last time...

“If you hear them talking before they hit nine months then please inform daddy so he can call Guinness world records”

✮✮✮✮

💌: again, superior trope, dad!lewis for the win, muah!💋

[superiorsturgeon]

Pyrrha: Jaune…? Are you ready for-

Adrian: *sitting on Jaune’s lab* Buh!

Pyrrha: …oh! Your nephew is visiting? *bends down and lets Adrian grab her finger*

Jaune: *gently bounces Adrian* Yeah, Saph and Terra dropped him off earlier. You know how it’s Father’s Day today? Well…

Pyrrha: *freezes and stares down at Adrian* …you can’t mean…?! 😨

Jaune: Yes.

Pyrrha: *feeling all of the emotions at once* So…so you’re Adrian’s… 😰

Jaune: Adrian’s babysitter because Saph and Terra are celebrating Father’s Day, even though they’re both women and want Adrian to call both of them “mom?” Exactly. 😑

Pyrrha: …what…?

Jaune: Yeah…Saph’s exact words were, “When YOU go through an expensive and invasive Atlasian procedure to make a baby with YOUR wife, you can celebrate whatever holiday you want! In the meantime, watch your nephew and stop being a wuss!”

Pyrrha: …oh…of course… 😮‍💨

Pyrrha: Saphron and Terra nearly gave me a heart attack! I have GOT to stop reading Blake’s books…!

Jaune: She also said to, “Ask your badass redhead girlfriend for help, in case she wants your kids someday. You probably could use the practice!”

Pyrrha: …you know what, I’ll take it!

Pyrrha: *scoops Adrian up and holds him overhead* Ready for a fun day with your uncle Jaune and auntie Pyrrha?

Adrian: Bah! 😆

[hausbabylon]

soul bounds entwined

Wanda Maximoff x Fem Reader

Part I

Word count: 5,248

Warnings: 18+ content, brief masturbation, confrontation, groping, emotional manipulation, brief degrading, edging, angst. Also, Reader kinda uses Billy.

A/N: Oh, my! This was supposed to be second and last part but I'm sorry, I'm leaving the best part in suspense. Thank you 3000 for the support you've given to this little series so far ❤️ See you in part III!

The more you get involved into Wanda Maximoff's life, the more you find yourself increasingly drawn to the woman. Through a series of interactions during family activities, intense romantic and sexual tension develops, culminating in a dramatic confrontation where hidden feelings are exposed.

You met Kate Bishop at High School, a few yesterdays ago. She opened the door for you to photograph galas, events, or photoshoots that her mother, Eleanor Bishop, occasionally participated in. Eleanor only agreed to please her stubborn daughter, who would have hired you regardless.

Despite your young age at the time, you were able to demonstrate to Eleanor -and several others- your almost innate ability to capture the precise peak of every instant. It was as if you had a sixth sense that told you exactly when to pick up your camera and press the button.

You were never more grateful for that gift than when you spotted the figure of Wanda Maximoff hitting the neon green sphere with her racket, so steadily, yet with such elegance that it could easily pass for a dance sequence. That was her, a being who radiated beauty even without trying.

You were barely at the middle landing of the stairs that would lead you to that woman you so longed for, her green eyes had not yet settled on you, for her attention was directed to her opponent. Oh, but she had your full and undivided attention, every action on her part being meticulously scrutinized.

When the redhead was defeated by her son, she let out a sigh of defeat, and moved to pick up the tennis ball that hit the wire and rolled a few meters away from her. It was at the moment when she threw it up, ready to take the first hit, that you pressed the capture button of your old Polaroid camera, which would be your accomplice in freezing that moment inside the piece of zink paper.

You shook the cartridge impatiently, the minutes feeling like hours for the image to be developed. And hell, was it worth the wait, for your eyes were delighted in return.

In your hands was a photograph that only you would have at your mercy, and you couldn't help but consider it a form of unparalleled intimacy that condemned you to an addiction.

Wanda Maximoff with the ball hovering in the air, looking up at said object with her full lips half-open, her racket at shoulder height. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, some of it beginning to stick to her forehead from the sweat that was beginning to be present. She wore a white pleated skirt like yours, and a light blue polo shirt with three buttons open, revealing just a little bit of her collarbone.

You stared at the photograph for who knows how long, the hours feeling like minutes this time.

"(Y/N)! You made it!" The distant voice of your now muse snapped you out of your trance, and you quickly shoved the photograph in your bag. With quick steps, you descended the remaining stairs and walked to where the awaiting family stood.

"I made it," you replied with a smile.

"And you look..." Wanda began the sentence, looking you up and down, repeating the action twice. However, she concluded it with a sigh.

"You look beautiful," Billy completed it. Despite the fact that he vocalized a complete word, a prolonged intake of breath followed by an exhale, held more meaning for you because it came from the woman before you.

"Completely," Wanda confirmed, grinning at you from ear to ear. "That skirt really suits you. You should show off those legs more often."

"Oh, thank you..." your breath hitched, and you felt as if all the blood in your body lost the ability to distribute itself, landing in your cheeks alone, the impact of her words taking on a peculiar dark pink hue.

"Billy, you pull," Wanda said, and that's when you realized he hadn't taken his eyes off you. His perennial stare was undetectable for you as long as his mother was present. "And (Y/N), go sit next to Tommy, feel free to order food or drinks. I'll teach you how to play as soon as we finish this round."

You found yourself nodding quickly, like a submissive and obedient puppy who didn't let out a word and complied to whatever she said.

Tommy greeted you with a tight-lipped smile. Between the two brothers, you found it easier to relax around Tommy. While you preferred Billy, you always had to be on guard against his suggestive remarks, which hindered your ability to fully enjoy his company. On the other hand, Tommy's voice held no hidden intentions, only friendliness at its best despite his reserved countenance.

"Did you play yet?" You asked him, noticing that his hair was still perfectly combed, with no sign of movement or activity.

"No, when my mom teaches you, I'll be your opponent," he replied.

"Then it'll be an easy win," you chuckled, making him laugh back.

"Don't worry, I won't be hard on you..."

"I meant easy win for me," you corrected, eliciting a surprised gasp from him, making you laugh even harder.

"Ah! Is this how things are gonna be between us? Okay, okay," he joked, feigning offense.

"Okay, Billy, rest," you heard Wanda say, once he lost to her.

With quiet gasps, he walked over to the table where you were seated next to Tommy. He reached for the cold water bottle that was resting across from you. He appeared to be upset, and you assumed it was because he lost, not because he witnessed your interaction with his brother.

"Mom, I want to be the one on the other side when you teach (Y/N)," he spoke, after placing the water bottle on the table.

"What?" Tommy exclaimed. "No way, dude. You played the hell out of it, it's my turn."

Before Billy could counter, Wanda interfered, "You wanted to play first, now it's your brother's turn."

Billy snorted, and sat on the chair, pulling his phone out of his bag.

Wanda signaled for you to follow her, and again, you walked behind her obediently, stopping where she indicated. Tommy positioned himself on the opposite side, stretching out his arms.

"All right, ready?" Wanda asked, handing you her racket. When you took it, you were surprised to see that it was heavier than she made it seem. The way she was handling it earlier made you think it would be featherlight.

"Yeah, ready," you could only hope that you would at least look your best while failing at trying to play the sport.

You let out a small gasp as she suddenly positioned herself behind you, her front pressed against your back. A stream of torturous cold sweat invaded every corner of your body as you forced yourself to keep your sanity.

"We're here to have fun, not the international tennis league," she said, guiding your arm with the racket at the appropiate height. "That said, don't worry if you don't get it perfect on the first try, okay?"

"Sure," you nodded, taking a deep breath. Maybe she noticed your nervousness, and thought it was due to the circumstances, when really, that became irrelevant to you when her body was pressed behind you.

"Take it firmly, with two arms or with one, whichever you feel better," she continued, and you opted for the second option, this being the one that would give you the most freedom if you needed momentum and fluidity.

Noting your choice, she added, "Good. I advice you to use your whole forearm. You're a beginner, this thing is heavy, and we don't want your wrist to dislocate."

"Oh, I was thinking of doing that anyway," you laughed. Using your wrist alone with such a heavy artefact would affect you considerably. She was right.

Wanda laughed softly, her breath colliding against your ear as she did so.

"Now, legs, they need to be apart and parallel," she continued, grabbing the inside of your right leg, a little above your knee, and positioned it in front of hers, so that you mimicked the distance she had. "Like this, good girl."

You swallowed dryly.

You weren't sure if she was simply too trusting or if, in your wildest dreams, she really wanted to bewilder you and have you under her spell.

"Finally, don't be too rigid. Let your body follow its course every time you stroke," she withdrew from behind you, and you felt the emptiness of her closeness linger on you. "Let the movements flow. But keep your posture as straight as you can."

"Noted, I got it."

At first, every time Tommy threw the ball at you, it seemed to take on a life of its own when you hit back. It bounced off the net, or to the side, out of your reach. Frustrated, you looked to Wanda, for help.

"Don't be discouraged, (Y/N). You just need to adjust your position and the angle of your racket a little,” Wanda said, approaching you.

She stood behind you once again, and gently guided your arm, showing you how to hit the ball. “Try to keep your eyes on it and bend your knees a bit for stability.”

Tommy threw again, and this time the ball came closer to you. With Wanda's help, you managed to hit it well, sending it straight towards where Tommy was standing.

“Well done!” Tommy exclaimed, surprised.

Wanda smiled, “Now you try it on your own, (Y/N)."

You took a deep breath and prepared for Tommy's next pitch. This time, you concentrated on following the trajectory of the ball and positioned your racket at the right angle.

You did it! The ball landed right where Tommy was expecting it.

“Excellent, you're catching it fast!” Said Tommy, excited. “I think you'll soon be an ace.”

Little by little, Wanda let you manage the game on your own, intervening only occasionally with advice. Your strokes became more and more precise and powerful, and Tommy had to work harder to keep up.

Wanda no longer considered it necessary to offer you her help, so she sat at the table next to Billy, with dark sunglasses covering her gaze, and although you had decided not to turn around to avoid distractions, her penetrating gaze was able to pierce through every fiber of your being.

You could feel her intense and overwhelming presence, as if a magnetic force pulled you towards her. Your heart was beating with desperation, wishing to turn your head and gaze at her beauty, but you knew you had to maintain focus and not be too obvious.

In the ninth round, Tommy failed to reach the ball and hit the shot needed to keep the streak going, so you decided to suggest to take a break instead of continuing to play. He agreed, and the two of you headed over to the table where Wanda and Billy were.

“I ordered some cold water and snacks,’ Wanda announced, pointing to the tray that contained them.

“Oh, thank you very much,” you replied with a smile. After all the physical activity, the thought of having some cold water was like heaven.

When you sat down, Billy looked away from his phone and smiled at you before placing it face down on the table.

He was about to say something when his brother joined you at the table. "You're a natural, (Y/N)! I must admit, I let you win at first to cheer you on, but then I had a hard time catching up,” he praised you as he picked up a bottle of water and drank almost half of it. In a way, you were grateful for that interruption, as it saved you from having to deal with Billy's corny flirtations.

“Yeah, you were awesome,” Billy added, bummed that maybe Tommy took the words right out of his mouth.

“Thanks, guys,” you replied with a smile. “I had the best teacher, giving me the push I needed,” you turned to Wanda, pining for the older woman's attention again.

And you did, when she leaned a little closer to you and said softly, “Oh, honey, and I had the best student,” she winked at you from under her shades, which you could see through the sunlight.

Billy sat next to you, trying to look gallant. “Well, you know, I could give you a ‘push’ too if you wanted one. What do you say, gorgeous?” He said with a crooked grin.

You couldn't help but laugh at Billy's awkward flirtation.

Wanda shot Billy a stern look. "All right, lover boy, you've got your energy back.

Time for you and me to play a little,” she interferred, taking his hand and pulling him away from you.

Tommy, who watched the interaction, rolled his eyes playfully and sat next to you.

"Forgive my brother," he apologized. "You're the first girl he's ever liked, and he has zero experience in how to behave with one."

You brushed it off with a little wave of your hand.

If he wasn't so charismatic, you probably would have cut ties with him... or maybe that's what you forced yourself to believe, because by being around him, you had opportunities like this, to share with his mother beyond work issues.

"What about you, any person who caught your eye?" you questioned.

"There is a guy, David, yes..." he confirmed, causing you to reposition your chair to turn towards him, showing interest. He laughed softly at your action. "I won't elaborate."

"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, shaking your head. "I'm a gossip enthusiast, and you can't tell me about a guy without blurting out more details," you replied, but realized that perhaps, it was best to respect his decision. "But it's okay. I understand if you decide not to share. I won't force you."

He sighed, "It's just... everything that shapes me as a person; my hobbies, my passions, my career, my internship, I share with my brother," he shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I adore him madly. But at least, this is very much my own thing," he sighed a second time, louder this time, watching his brother, who was occasionally observing the interaction, but redirecting his focus to the game.

“I totally understand," you nodded. It was often the case that with a pair of twins, it was more usual to share common grounds and live together almost as if they were one person in two bodies. Sooner or later, there came that desire for individualism, which Tommy found in keeping aspects of his life to himself. "I'm so glad that you are in that process of detaching from your brother and forming your own path, as your own person."

"Sure as hell I am," he giggled. "I have my own friends, I had a girlfriend named Lisa for a while," he continued. "About both, Billy constantly commented on, whining about why I managed to fit in at college and he didn't, what I had that he didn't. And it was always my duty to comfort him," his expression took on a lingering hint of annoyance.

“Must've been so hard to always be the one comforting him, especially when you were just trying to enjoy your own life and relationships,” asentiste lentamente.

Now you understood why Billy seemed to want to hog your attention, and was so annoyed when Tommy, with his extroverted nature struck up a conversation with you. Billy felt like he was constantly in Tommy's shadow, always comparing himself and feeling inadequate. He craved validation and reassurance, seeking comfort in your friendship whenever he felt overshadowed. You were the only person he was starting to form bonds with besides his brother and mother.

"It may sound selfish, not to have included my brother to my group of friends when many do that."

"No," you replied firmly. "As you said earlier, it's your own thing."

"Thank you... that's what my mother tells me," he confessed, and you were glad to know that the redhead was comprehensive in that regard. "She's a twin too, so she understands the dynamics of having a close sibling relationship while still needing your own space and identity. She ended up being way different than her brother, but both were happy for each other.”

You knew about her brother, Pietro Maximoff, that he died when the Avengers fought Ultron in Sokovia. You saw it in one video of ‘50 things you didn't know about Wanda Maximoff’, at 3AM when you couldn't mitigate the intrigue she left.

And from all that you learned, not only was she talented and charismatic, she also carried a profound strength in her heart, from which she emerged stronger. She was now enjoying the empire she built with the stones life threw at her… quite literally, the mind stone.

"If Billy isn't happy for you, his emotions are not his responsibility," you stated. "In fact, nothing regarding him is your responsibility. You enjoy what you were able to attract into your life."

"Thank you, I'm glad someone is reassuring me that I'm on the right track," he replied, pulling a bag of chips that was resting on the tray. He gestured you to grab one as well, so you did. "A few months after my first breakup, I developed this crush on a girl named Kate, and he never knew. It was refreshing, keeping it to myself, without Billy turning it back on him and how much he hated not even having a girl he liked."

"And what happened between you and this girl, Kate?"

"Oh, well, it was pathetically movie-like," he chuckled. "After crushing from afar, I saw her outside campus. I was very determined, walking towards her to say hi, when a blonde girl came on a bike, got off and went to kiss her. So I stepped back.”

"Wait... isn't that Kate Bishop by any chance?" You asked, the first name, college and blonde girlfriend being enough characteristics that fit your best friend.

"Yes! Kate Bishop!" He confirmed, surprised. "No way... do you know her?"

You let out a laugh at the coincidence, shaking your head softly in disbelief.

"She's my best friend since high school," you nodded.

"Oh, shut up!" He exclaimed loudly. "There is no way!"

Wanda Maximoff's son, studying at the same university as your best friend, Kate, who he used to have a crush on.

Kate, whose girlfriend, Yelena Belova, was the younger sister of Natasha Romanoff, one of the Avengers, of which Wanda Maximoff was a member until the Sokovia Accords marked a new beginning in her career.

All this time, you were closer to Wanda than you thought.

Billy noticed the friendly and amusing exchange between you and Tommy, so he proceeded to purposely miss on the present round, with the excuse to approach the table again where the two of you were.

"What's so funny?" He asked, so innocently, you thought, because you were so oblivious to the look on his face at every single thing you were doing.

Wanda followed him.

Evidently, she wasn't born yesterday, and she knew she had to be on the lookout to intervene in any recklessness, a product of that jealousy you were already aware of, that he was experiencing towards his twin brother. It was funny, nevertheless, that he thought he had to compete against his brother for your attention, when truly, it was her mother the one and only threat.

"Oh, (Y/N) has a best friend, Kate Bishop, who studies at our university. I've seen her a couple of times," Tommy explained. "We were just laughing about how small New York is."

Billy nodded slowly, arching his eyebrows.

"That's so funny!" Wanda spoke, a smile plastered on her face, instantly melting you. Whenever she did so, her nose scrunched a little in the process, and some dimples on her cheeks made themselves present.

Oh, how you longed for her to be so close to you, sharing gestures and glances that seemed to connect you both in a unique way. Yes, they may have been mere human interactions, but you treasured each of those little things, those details that, to the eyes of others, might go unnoticed.

"Actually, her girlfriend, I'm sure you know her," you replied to the older woman. "She's Natasha's younger sister, Yelena."

"Noooooo!" It was her turn to be surprised and laugh, just like you and Tommy were a few minutes ago.

"I know! Unbelievable!" You responded, her laughter contaging you like a deadly virus.

"Yelena, I've met her a couple of times,” she recalled. “When we have one of those friendly get-togethers at the compound, I've had the chance to see her twice or thrice," Wanda commented to you, and seemed to think for a moment. "Hey, next time, you and Kate should join us. Since you and I aren't strangers anymore, and Kate seems to be familiar with the rest of the team."

You laughed instantly, remembering the anecdote of Kate meeting her idol, Clint Barton, for the first time.

"I'm serious, darling," Wanda stated, probably believing that your little giggle was due to disbelief and not the memory that popped into your mind.

"Oh, no, it's just… I remembered how pale Kate looked when Yelena took her to meet Natasha, unbeknownst to her that Clint would be there too," you clarified.

Yelena had invited Kate to a restaurant a little way out of town, in order to introduce her to her sister, Natasha. Things between them had already become serious like that.

Your best friend was a nervous wreck before Yelena picked her up, repeatedly stating that she was not mentally prepared to meet Natasha Romanoff, whom she also admired. She was in for a big surprise, when not only was Black Widow waiting for them, but Hawkeye as well.

You expected to receive a text, or at most a phone call with all the details. However, hours later, the couple arrived at your flat. Yelena walking hand in hand with a completely mesmerized and shocked Kate, with a lost gaze and unable to spill a single word.

"Wow, I can only imagine..." Wanda mused, empathizing with your best friend's feelings at such an experience. As she sat down across from you with a clear determination to continue the conversation, you couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph. It was then that you regained awareness of your surroundings and realized that the twins had left you alone who knows how long ago, opting to play a round together instead. “But seriously, I would love it if you came.”

Wanda Maximoff: (Pauses).

Tommy Maximoff: That’s… (sighs) that’s when the incident happened.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): Did Tommy say that? (laughs) No, the incident was always that Billy started to get the wrong ideas. Of course, I didn't have the heart to reject him, but I gave very clear signals. At the compound, that’s where it ended.

Tommy Maximoff: There is no worse blind than the one who does not want to see.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N): I always carry my Polaroid camera with me, no matter where I go. I am fascinated by being able to capture the important moments of my life with that particular photographic style and store them in a special album of memories. Maybe it sounds old-fashioned, but over the years, you realize the almost magical power that photographs have to transport you back to those frozen moments in time. Pressing the shutter button at that country club became a sort of curse, as I couldn't help but yearn to be teleported back over and over to those unforgettable moments with her.

When you finished working with Wanda, you already had a large number of photographs of her. A collection, you could call it at this point.

You didn't pass up the opportunity to take pictures in every corner of the tennis court, every time she and Billy played together, and you'd even have more if you'd taken pictures when she played against Tommy as well, but you didn't want to expose him to a jealous feud with Billy.

Likewise, you were more than content with the other occasions; like your personal favorites, the family dinners at which you were frequently included. After the food was served, you proceeded to ask the three of them to pose before eating, just so you could have the privilege of watching that gorgeous face for as many seconds as you wanted later at night.

It always amused you to see him smiling in all the photos, so flattered thinking that he was the one you wanted to immortalize in the memories.

The end justified the means, right?

You let out a small gasp, arching your back in pleasure when, as you stilled your needy entrance, you grabbed another photograph, the bonfire photograph...

"Oh, Wanda!" you moaned, feeling your climax about to burst, clenching around your own fingers.

"Why is it that you only take pictures of Billy when I'm around?" Wanda confronted you, once the twins went to sleep. A great day at their University awaited the next day, unlike Wanda and you, who could stay awake as long as you wanted.

Wanda occasionally held bonfires in the garden of her house. She cordially invited you to join them, and after a few minutes, you were all dressed up and on your way to her house, when you were already comfortable in your pajamas, ready to get into your bed.

And once you were alone, she placed her chair in front of yours, and asked you that question that caught you off guard. You had just taken a picture of her with the twins before they left.

"What?" You exclaimed, pretending to be clueless to buy yourself more time to come up with an excuse.

"Or better yet, why don’t you ever accept seeing Billy exclusively? Only when I'm present," she repeated, leaning towards you.

The air thickened around you, each breath torturous as if you were inhaling the very essence of your dread. Your heart pounded, a relentless drum echoing in the cavern of your chest, each beat reverberating through your bones and threatening to shatter your composure.

"I want Billy as a friend, I don't want me accepting outings or taking pictures of him alone to get him more excited than he probably is," you replied, almost all in one breath.

Wanda's eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through your weak defenses, "Are you sure that's the only reason, (Y/N)? Or is there something else you're not telling me?"

You felt exposed, as if she could see right through your clumsy excuses.

"I... I don't want to give him false hope," you hesitated, trying to maintain your composure.

"False hope?" Wanda scoffed, her tone full of skepticism. "Then, why taking those pictures in the first place? Who do you wanna see, hm?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing by the second. "It's… memories," you protested, but the conviction in your voice was waning.

Wanda tilted her head, scrutinizing you with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Bullshit!” She exclaimed. “Why do you always make sure I'm around? Is it because you need a buffer? Or is it because you're more interested in someone else?”

Her words were heavy and loaded with implication. Your mind struggled to form a coherent response, but the truth was clawing its way to the surface, threatening to break free.

“I...-"

She didn't let you finish, "Is it me?" She insisted. "Are you using Billy to get closer to me?"

"Wanda, please, it's not like that," you pleaded, but her words had struck a nerve. She could sense it, therefore, she leaned in even closer, her lips almost brushing your ear. You felt your skin reacting through goosebumps immediately.

"Stop lying. You think I can't see through you, like my son? You're pathetic, hiding behind your excuses. If you have something to say, say it now," she hissed, her breath hot against your skin.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"No, nothing..." you stammered, but the words wouldn't come.

Wanda's grip on your knee tightened further, her nails digging into your skin.

"You're infuriating. If you can't even be honest with yourself, how do you expect to be honest with anyone else?" She said, her voice a low growl.

“I… I better go,” was all you managed to respond. You never realized how weak you were until the Wanda Maximoff was so close to you, forcing you to face the consequences of your impulsive and not-so-wise acts.

Her eyes glinted with a dangerous determination. She wasn't going to let you off the hook so easily. Her hand slid from your knee up to your thigh, keeping you in place.

"You think you can keep hiding? From me?" Her voice was a seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened. "Wanda, please," you whispered, your voice trembling. You refused to do this at all costs, even though it was what you deserved.

"No more lies. I want the truth, and I'm going to get it," her other hand moved to your waist, pulling you even closer to her.

Your heart pounded wildly, your body not knowing whether to tremble of fear and desire.

"I... I don't know what you want me to say," you stammered, trying to keep your composure.

Wanda's hand moved higher up your thigh, her nails lightly grazing your skin through the fabric. "Oh, but you do," she countered. "You're scared, aren't you? Scared of what you feel. Scared of what I might do if you admit it. So scared that my poor, poor son has to suffer from your cowardice."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you.

"No, it’s..." you began.

And once again, she didn't give you a chance to finish. Her hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up so you were forced to meet her gaze.

"Look at me, darling. I want to see your eyes when you tell me the truth," she demanded, her voice a low growl.

Your eyes met hers, and the intensity of her green orbes was almost too much to bear.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

"I... I can't," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Wanda's grip on your chin tightened, her nails digging into your skin. "Yes, you can. And you will," she insisted, her voice brooking no argument. Her other hand moved between your legs, pressing your core with a tight squeeze, making you yelp and let the first few tears spill out of your eyes. You felt so helpless, regretting every life decision that led you to this very instant.

"Do you want me?" She questioned, with a voice so firm it sounded more like a statement.

"Yes," you finally admitted.

Wanda's eyes shone with satisfaction, "Oh, my good girl. That's all I needed to hear," she murmured, her lips brushing against yours.

Her hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing kiss that left you breathless. You could only describe it intense and fervorous, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, without even asking for permission. Just taking you as if she had always owned you, and maybe, she did.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in her lips, Wanda abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

"This is your punishment for toying with my son's feelings," she established. "You don't get to have me, not after what you've done. Now go."