#i cried laughing multiple times when i first read through it after discovering it in april

[spidertalia]

my favorite hetalia fic updated again after almost two months and i let out the most feral sound ever upon realizing. yes i like this fic a normal amount (lie)

[drarrypotterrenaissance]

So Good I Could Cry

I saw this post, and knew immediately that I had to write a fic for it. This is my first fic above a T rating, so it was written in one sitting before I could lose my nerve. What follows is the softest, most gentle M-rated fic I think you can find. Additionally, I am very ace, and thought that I was writing Harry as allosexual, until Vukovich told me how much ace Harry came through in this fic, so please take a moment to laugh at my naïvety and then to thank @vukovich for being a wonderful beta reader and for ensuring that I tagged this properly 💜

Words: 1,828 Rating: Mature Summary: There was a tumblr post asking who in your ship cries during sex, and I knew my answer immediately - Harry cries during, and Draco cries afterwards in secret. Read on ao3 here

It’s all so good. Everything has been so good, for months now, that Harry can’t really figure out why it took so long for him to finally ask Draco out. He can’t figure out why multiple years of amazing friendship didn’t turn into dating and kissing sooner, not when it only took him six months to realise that his feelings for Draco weren’t just platonic. He can’t figure out why it took them so long to get here, but he’s beyond glad that they finally have.

Harry’s lost count of how many dates they’ve gone on (although Draco probably knows; he’s obsessive like that, and Harry loves that he knows that about him), or how many times they’ve kissed, or how many scorching looks Draco has given him from the other side of the room. They’ve been taking things slowly, per Draco’s wishes, although Harry hasn’t minded, and has, in fact, been delighted to watch Draco open up to him even more with every dinner and every kiss, like a flower opening so slowly into the morning sun.

Now, though, they’re here, in Harry’s bed with Draco pink-cheeked and sweaty over him, for the very first time. And it’s so good, just like everything else, just like Harry knew it would be, because it’s Draco here with him. Draco’s nerves have dissipated, and he’s radiant, leaning down to kiss Harry, making soft little noises that Harry could listen to forever, beaming and laughing, pressing his eyes shut even as his mouth falls open. There’s a strand of hair that’s come free from its queue, falling alongside Draco’s flushed cheeks, and Harry is overjoyed to watch it sway back and forth, curling up into a gentle ringlet, because that means that Draco must secretly straighten his hair, and Harry knows this now, an intimate little secret to discover even in the midst of this intimate act itself. They’ve been together for so long tonight that Draco’s hair straightening charms have worn off, and he’s comfortable enough with Harry that he hasn’t bothered to refresh them, and now Harry gets to know that there’s a wave to Draco Malfoy’s pin-straight hair, and no one else gets to have that secret.

He reaches a hand up and twirls a finger through Draco’s hair, then cups his face to simply admire him for a moment. Harry doesn’t think that anyone could ever really look attractive during sex. It’s too sweaty and red-faced and slightly gross for anyone to actually look hot the whole way through, but Draco right now is so lovely, so captivatingly beautiful, both for his red-flushed, sweaty face and for how open he is in this moment of vulnerability.

“I love you,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. He’s said it before, a few times, and he’s certain that Draco feels the same way, even if he hasn’t said it back yet. Still, Harry hadn’t wanted to pressure him right now, hadn’t wanted to risk making Draco think that he had to say it back to him at this moment because of everything else. Draco beams, though, and kisses him fiercely, and somewhere in the middle, Harry tips over into ecstasy, coming back to himself moments later with tears wet on his cheeks and more still streaming from his eyes.

They kiss some more after, and then just hold each other close, drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Draco doesn’t say anything about the tears that took a few minutes to stop, although Harry thinks he’d be well within his rights to. Honestly, who cries during sex because their boyfriend secretly has curly hair? Instead, Draco just kisses him, and runs his thumbs under Harry’s eyes to wipe away the tears, and kisses him again while fresh ones appear.

When Harry wakes up an unknown amount of time later, he can still feel the salt, tacky on his cheeks. He passes a hand over his eyes, then scrubs it across his face, before reaching out to pull Draco close to him once more. His hand meets nothing but empty sheets, still warm from Draco’s body, but rapidly cooling. And Harry knows, because he knows Draco, that he’ll be back soon. He hasn’t gone far, nor has he gone for good, and Harry is sure of it even before he sees the light shining from under the ensuite door. If Harry could be patient for two minutes, Draco would surely return to him, eager to reclaim his place next to Harry in their warm bed, and to press his always freezing toes in between Harry’s legs. But Harry’s in love with him, and everything is so good when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to be separated even for the next two minutes, and so he gets up and pads over to the bathroom door, knocking gently to preserve the quiet of the pre-dawn stillness.

“Draco?”

There’s no answer, but Harry can hear the sink running, so he pushes the door open a crack and says Draco’s name again, sees his bare back stiffen slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice. He splashes water on his face once, then turns around with a towel pressed to his cheeks, patting himself dry even as Harry steps into his space and puts his hands gently around Draco’s waist. Draco leans into the touch, but doesn’t respond in kind, continuing to dry his face, the towel now an obstacle, keeping Harry from kissing him like he so desperately wants to. Instead, Harry slips his pinkies into the waistband of the boxers Draco has put back on, and gently smooths his thumbs up and down Draco’s sides.

“Hi,” he says, still making an effort to be quiet for no reason.

“Hello,” Draco whispers back, the towel still obscuring his face and muffing his voice slightly.

“Is everything alright?” Harry gives one of Draco’s hips a gentle squeeze, and Draco sways slightly into his hand.

Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything, and the towel is still hiding his face, which means Harry is forced to judge by Draco’s stiff shoulders how much of a lie his nod was. Harry slowly pulls the towel down, revealing Draco much as he was only an hour before; his face is red and blotchy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are closed. Unlike before though, his face is now wet with tears instead of perspiration, and Harry feels a stab of pain go through his heart at the idea that something is marring this perfect night for Draco.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving his hands to cup Draco’s face, almost able to see the same motion echoed between them from earlier in the evening.

Draco shakes his head, and another tear falls to meet Harry’s thumb before being wiped away.

“Nothing. I’m fine, truly I am. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Harry wipes away another tear and tilts Draco’s chin up gently until he meets his eyes. He can’t quite parse the emotions that he sees going across Draco’s face, but he can understand, at least in part, how Draco must be feeling. Tonight was a big step for both of them, their first time together, but it was Draco’s first time ever, and Harry feels like his chest might burst with love for Draco for letting him share this moment with him. Some of that must be reflected on his own face, because Draco gives him a watery little smile and tries again to explain.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” ‘A lot’ finishes Draco’s voice in Harry’s head, but he remains silent and gives Draco the chance to say the words for himself. “A lot,” he says, with another small smile, and then his lower lip begins to quaver again. “It’s all been really good!” he hastens to add. “And I’m fine!” he says, more tears splashing down his face. “It’s just a lot, all at once.”

Harry nods his head, wipes Draco’s tears, and kisses him. It’s not one of their best kisses, Draco sniffles in the middle of it, and Harry’s pretty sure that there’s snot in his mouth, but it’s still absolutely perfect, because it’s the two of them standing together in the middle of Harry’s bathroom at some wretchedly early hour in the morning.

When they pull apart, Harry swipes his thumbs across Draco’s cheeks again and says, “I get it.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow - and, oh, what a joy, to see Draco’s dearly loved prickly little personality pushing through his tears - Harry reminds him, “I was crying earlier tonight, too.” He shrugs. “It can be overwhelming sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing.”

Draco scrubs the towel across his face once more, then fits himself to Harry’s body, pressing his face into the spot between his neck and shoulder that he had been kissing earlier that evening. Draco’s nose presses into a tender area, and Harry thrills to consider that he might have a bruise there in the morning, and can’t wait to avoid all of Draco’s attempts to heal it with magic, instead letting it linger for days as a reminder of tonight. Maybe, he thinks nonsensically, he could even get a tattoo there, to preserve it for all eternity.

“I woke up and wanted to wash my hands,” Draco says out of nowhere, the words slightly muffled against Harry’s skin, “and when I saw myself in the mirror, I just. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe I would look different, afterwards. Which, I know that’s silly, but I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. And I couldn’t tell if I looked different or not. All I could think about was how I must have looked to you-”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Harry interrupts, and Draco laughs a little before pressing on.

“And then I was thinking about how you looked at me, and, and, and you love me-”

“I do,” Harry says,

“-and,” Draco’s fists tighten against Harry’s back, and he can feel the material of the towel Draco is still holding move against his spine. Draco pulls back slightly, and looks Harry in the eye. He’s a bit of a mess, with his cheeks a chaotic pink and his eyelashes spiky from tears, but once again Harry is certain that he’s never seen anyone more lovely, “and, Harry, I love you too,” he says, and possibly some other words after that, but those are lost into Harry’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly before lifting him up, letting Draco wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, and carrying him back to bed.

When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s with Draco curled around him, his face pressed against Harry’s chest, and the bathroom hand towel, which Harry now realises is the novelty Celestina Warbeck one that Draco got him as a joke, squashed under his armpit. It’s so strange, and so perfect, that Harry wants to laugh. It’s all just really good.

[kurosukii]

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your best friend has been dying to know the guy you’ve been fooling around with since your twenty-first birthday; you wish you could tell her, but the mystery man is no other than her father.

genre: smut, age gap, best friend’s dad au

warnings: 18+. DILF KUROO. dubcon, manipulation, slight somnophilia, spanking, pussyjob, alcohol consumption, dumbification, hair pulling, virginity loss (...social construct), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, size kink, corruption kink, daddy kink, daddy issues, dirty talk, degradation, praise, unprotected sex, nipple play, creampie, cumplay, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, choking, spitting, mating press, clit spanks, begging, fingering, slight exhibitionism, finger sucking, tie kink(?? he makes you wear his tie so...)

word count: 5.2k

author’s note: for @sugawara-sweetheart’s decadence collab! thank you so much for letting me join! shoutout to @stopisa for that ✨lovely✨ dilf convo. (dilf kuroo AAAAAAAAAAAAAA) (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

º thank you @meiansmistress and @ssrated1volleyballplayer for editing and beta reading <33

[12:24 PM]

“come on! you have to tell me who he is!”

you grip the handle of your spoon harder than normal, hoping your best friend doesn’t see your reaction.

you open your mouth to say something, but she cuts you off with a comment that makes shame and embarrassment burn through your body.

“you guys were really loud last night! well, you were. i didn’t hear so much as a peep from your man—well aside from the occasional murmurs, which i’m pretty sure was dirty talk…” she trails off, looking lost in thought.

you squirm and wince at the wet pool between your legs. the wet pool being cum that he told you to keep warm just before he left.

she sees your discomfort and laughs at your predicament, clearly thinking it was the aftermath of a hard night of fucking—it was, but she didn’t need to know about the sticky cum that was still inside your pussy.

“he clearly fucked your brains out! at least one of us is getting dick!” she exclaims, her lips forming into a pout as she takes her finished bowl of ramen to the sink and rinses it with water.

yeah, you are getting dick—not just anyone’s dick, however, because it’s her father’s.

your stomach churns at the thought, not from disgust, but from guilt and shame. you are way past getting disgusted with what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.

not when her father never fails to make you cum at least three times in one night, not when he calls you his good girl and cockslut, and certainly not when you called him over last night because you were so pent up and you needed your daddy’s cock.

last night…

“you’re such a cockslut,” kuroo growled, his balls slapping against your ass as he delivered a hard thrust that had you creaming and moaning all over his cock. you bunched the sheets in your hands, wincing with slight discomfort when he folded your body in half while he pounded relentlessly inside you.

“you should see how dumb you look with your eyes all crossed and teary while your tits are bouncing everywhere.”

you squealed when he roughly flipped you on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips as he entered you once more. he lifted one hand and slapped your ass in sync with his thrusts.

“so drunk on my cock now, huh? can’t live without it, hm?” kuroo taunted you, one hand squeezing your hip while the other spanked your ass until it was burning with pain. you moaned words incoherently, tongue lolling out as drool seeped from the corners of your mouth.

“daddy! more, please!” you moaned loudly, toes curling from the pleasure.

“you’re brave for calling me over, knowing that only a thin wall is separating you from my daughter’s room,” he hissed, pounding your pussy from behind.

“but i guess that doesn’t matter to you anymore as long as i fill this dirty pussy with my. hot. cum—fuck!” he ended each word with a hard thrust, cursing when your tight cunt clamped down on him.

“faster, daddy! your cock’s filling up my pussy so well—oh my god!” you screamed, partly aware that you shouldn’t scream his name, for fear that your debauchery with your best friend’s father would be revealed too soon.

kuroo indulged you, teeth bared as he pushed your back into a deeper arch, making his cock reach places he hadn’t before. you winced when his large cock teased the entrance of your cervix. it was always a trip taking him—no matter how many times he fucked you, his cock always stretched your pussy wide open.

“w-wait, it h-hurts daddy!” you whined, moving forward to escape the brutal thrusts of his hips so you could adjust your position. he growled in disapproval, tightening his grip on your hips as he roughly pulled you back on his dick.

“take my cock. i know you can do it, whore.” he hissed, moving your body back and forth on his cock like you were a fuckdoll. you moaned from both pain and pleasure as kuroo guided your hips, fingers leaving bruises on your skin.

you cried out when kuroo tugged your hair from its roots, pulling your body upright until your back met his sweaty chest. “yeah that’s a good fucking pussy. come on slut, squeeze daddy’s cock,” he whispered in your ear, teeth biting your earlobe.

“d-daddy i can’t—i’m going to cum!” you squealed, voice cracking as your body started shaking from your fast approaching orgasm.

“i’m going to cum too, baby—and don’t you fucking dare waste my cum,” he growled, wrapping his arms around your body.

you fell forward on your shaking arms, sheets bunched tightly in your fingers as moans and whimpers freely fell from your lips.

“i want it to stay inside your dirty cunt until tomorrow,” he ordered you, reaching for your arms and holding your wrists in one hand, the other slapping your already swollen ass.

you cried out when your face was smothered by the sheets, drool staining the pillow as the headboard continuously thumped against the wall. your body shook with his thrusts, breasts swaying with the movement.

“i want you to look my daughter in the eye and have a normal conversation with her—just like you always do—while you’re thinking about how slutty you are with her father’s cum inside your pussy.”

that was last night. a couple hours ago, if you were to be specific, since kuroo fucked you until you passed out on your bed. you only woke up when your best friend practically broke the door down—bed empty of him, thank god—saying that she made lunch. she looked pretty disheveled herself and she blamed it on your headboard hitting the wall all throughout the night.

you buried your face into the pillow to cover your guilty expression, groaning at the movement because your body was aching all over. she laughed and left you to your own devices, still recovering from him.

he has a crazy appetite for a man his age, to be honest. he may be an older man but he fucks like a teenage boy who recently discovered sex and became hypnotized by the pleasure of it. you lost count of how many times your best friend—his daughter—almost caught you and him fucking around in the apartment, their house, and even his car.

it wasn’t always like this though. there was a time when you only saw him as a fatherly figure and not someone who regularly uses you as a cocksleeve.

maybe it was the way he looked so good with a five-o-clock shadow, or how even with salt and pepper hair, he still acted youthfully. perhaps it was his signature cocky grin that lured your younger and more impressionable self towards him.

in truth, it was your daddy issues that led you to him.

you met your best friend the summer after high school. you bonded quickly over your common interests and quickly learned that it was just her and her dad. she confided in you and told you how lonely he was and she hoped that he would meet a nice and loving woman to take care of him. you comforted her and reassured her that he would meet that woman. if you only knew.

you couldn’t help but admit to yourself how envious you were of her and her father’s relationship, seeing as the one with your own was non-existent. you couldn’t wait to meet him, hoping that he would treat you as his second daughter since your best friend was basically your sister.

she failed to tell you—because why would she?—that her father is an attractive and charming specimen of a man his age. his eyes would crinkle at the sides when he laughed and his feline eyes would always look at you with warmth and tenderness.

you sigh as you put your chin on your fist, the sounds of dishwashing and humming filling your ears as you play the events that eventually led to your risky love affair with her dad.

you really feel ashamed, but it wasn’t your fault that her dad is so good to you. from the moment you met him, he made you feel so loved and appreciated. it was obviously innocent and familial at first, until it turned to something darker, more carnal.

his glances gradually became lingering and he started giving you sly winks that left you burning with desire. you tried so hard to fight it too, but you were too weak against his sweet talk and honey voice.

it was a year or two later that he finally made a move on you.

you figured that with a job that caused him to be in constant public eye, he would avoid fooling around with girls that were decades younger than him, but even with the heavy implications of a scandal, it still didn’t stop him from devouring you.

it all started one night when he invited you guys over, claiming that he missed the both of you. your best friend told you to go first because she was going to be out for her tutoring session. you internally shivered at the thought of being alone with him, not knowing what was going to happen once you were confined in a small space.

the sexual tension was so thick when you arrived and next thing you knew, you had your back on the dining table, legs spread in the air, with his mouth sucking and slurping on your pussy. you came with a scream of his name, cumming so hard for the first time in your life that your body ended up convulsing.

he had laughed at how blissed out you looked. “you taste even better than what i imagined, baby. thanks for the meal,” he purred, winking at you and leaving you to process what happened, hand wiping off the juices from his face as he went back to cooking dinner.

his daughter finally showed up and your face burned the entire time, unable to look her in the eye because not only did her father make you cum minutes prior, but he also was a tease and had his fingers inside your panties while talking to her, fingers slowly tracing circles on your clit.

the topic of conversation was your living situation. he was never happy about how the two of you wanted to live alone together because he insisted that it was better if you guys lived with him. at first you thought it was him being overprotective, but you came to understand it was because he wanted easy access to you.

he ended up fucking your throat that night out of sheer frustration, punishing you for being a bad girl and wanting to be away from your daddy.

you partly hoped it was a one time thing, but you were proven wrong when you had a movie night and your best friend dozed off on the long couch housing the three of you.

kuroo was under your blanket and between your legs in an instant. your shorts hung off of one ankle while he pushed your panties to the side.

“daddy! we shouldn’t be doing this—fuck!” you moaned as his lips sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue lapping up your slick.

“guess you just have to be quiet then, kitten,” he teased you. you arched your back and bit your lip to muffle your scream when he inserted a finger in your dripping cunt while his lips played with your clit.

you had no idea how your best friend didn’t wake up to the sounds of your muffled moans and whimpers, but that thought went away when you started riding her father’s face and cumming all over his mouth.

you became needier after that, eventually losing the hesitancy of being pleasured by him. instead, you anticipated the times when he would make you cum.

the deal was sealed on the night of your twenty-first birthday.

night of your birthday…

“hey girl, the postman came and said this was for you!” your friend slurred, clearly having had too much to drink for just a small and intimate celebration for your twenty-first.

you’d been buzzing the whole day, both from the alcohol and anticipation of what was going to happen later. you woke up to numerous happy birthday texts until you came across the one you’ve been so excited to see. your cunt gushed when you saw your daddy’s text, letting out a little moan at what he said.

happy twenty-first, kitten. you better be wearing my gift when i come over because i’m going to fuck your little pussy tonight.

you sucked in a breath as your face flushed. you held the smooth black nondescript box that was elegantly wrapped with a crimson satin ribbon. you had a pretty solid guess of what was inside and your best friend had as well, because she wiggled her eyebrows and teased you. you sighed, like father, like daughter.

how you were still able to look her in the eye after everything you’ve done and what you’re going to do with her dad is beyond you. his mouth, tongue, fingers—soon to be his cock—truly hypnotized and consumed your conscience and only left neediness in its wake.

you ducked your head to hide the embarrassment on your face while the rest of your friends that came over jeered and whistled as you walked towards your room to leave the box on your bed for safekeeping.

you left it sitting in the center of the bed and went back to the living room to enjoy, skin tingling the whole time in anticipation for your daddy...

you closed the door after saying goodbye to the last group of people and turned to your best friend. “thank you for the lovely little get together,” you thanked her shyly.

“you’re welcome, darling, but i’m sure the main event is just about to happen. tone it down a little, yeah?” she smirked at you, eyes glinting with mischief as she giggled on the way to her room.

you sighed, the guilt that was momentarily forgotten reared its head once more when you were finally alone in your room. it went away again when you studied the gift kuroo gave, nimble fingers leaving light touches on the box settled on your lap as you untied the ribbon.

you rummaged through the white crepe paper until you saw pieces of red lace that were as red as the ribbon that tied the box. he always loved the color, so it wasn’t a surprise that the lingerie he gifted you was of the same shade. your fingers shook when you took them out in front of you. these can barely cover anything, you gulped.

you caught a tinge of gold in the corner of your eye and saw that there was a white card peeking out amongst the paper. the card was lined with gold embellishments and there was a short message printed in red.

kitten, wear these for me. - k.t.

and who are you to not follow daddy’s orders?

you placed the garments at your side and set the box on the floor. you began to undress, removing your cotton bra and panties which you threw on the floor, somehow landing inside the open box.

your naked body was exposed to the cool air and you shivered, head buzzing and eyes slightly drooping from the alcohol you consumed. you took the lace with delicate fingers and gasped upon inspection of the panties.

you were taken aback by the design because not only did it lack enough cloth to cover your entire lower region, but they were crotchless. your mouth dried at the obscenity, hazy mind playing images of kuroo rutting into you without having to remove anything.

that was most likely his intention after all. you slowly stood up from the bed and softly moaned at the slickness between your thighs, pussy clearly excited and aching for his dick. you slipped your legs through them and grabbed the matching bra. you moaned when you clipped it on, nipples hardening when the lacy pattern rubbed against them.

you might as well be wearing nothing with the way you barely felt the fabric against your sensitive skin. you yawned as you laid on your back, the numerous glasses of wine you drank finally caught up with you.

you tried to fight it, you really did. but you were fighting a losing battle with your eyes and besides, you were only going to close them for a bit. you’d wake up before your daddy comes over, right?

you ended up dozing off. you woke up with a moan, alcohol already flushed out of your body. you slightly squirmed as you felt something wet on your tits and a moving pressure in your pussy. you slowly opened your eyes and found a large body looming over you.

“do you know how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you?” kuroo asked, lips pulling away from your clothed nipple with a pop when he realized that you were finally awake.

“three fucking years. yet you had the audacity to be asleep when i arrived? i’m going to wreck your slutty pussy, whore,” he growled as he scissored his long fingers inside your pussy faster. you cried out in pleasure, hands reaching for his wrist as you tried to slow his movements.

“d-daddy, i’m sorry!” you cried as you arched your back. he just grunted and removed his wet fingers from your cunt. you whimpered at the loss because his fingers always felt so good when they moved inside of you. he stared you down instead, large hands loosening his red tie—you noticed that it matched the lingerie you were wearing—and promptly removed it.

he bit his lip as he reached down and made you wear it instead, cock twitching in his pants as he reveled at the sight of you wearing his gift, and in his favorite color no less. he unbuttoned his white dress shirt, muscles rippling from the movement.

even though he didn’t play volleyball all that much anymore, he still maintained his toned body. if it weren’t for his salt and pepper hair, you wouldn’t think he was decades older than you. not that it mattered, anyway.

“you look so sexy in red, kitten,” he whispered, the sound of his belt unbuckling mixing with your heavy breathing. you gulped when you saw that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, eyes widening at the sheer size of him. he stepped out of his pants and smirked when he saw your reaction.

“fuck, your pussy is so pretty. can’t believe i waited this long to fuck it,” he hissed as he spread your legs, your crotchless panties baring your pussy to his eyes, making them twitch under his scrutiny.

he groaned as he rubbed his hard cock on your slit between your folds. you moaned at the stimulation, thankful that he didn’t thrust inside immediately because that would’ve been more painful than pleasurable.

“i was e-eighteen when we first met, y-you could’ve fucked me—oh that feels good—any t-time you wanted to, why didn’t you?” you stuttered as you shivered from the pleasure his slick cock was giving you.

you planted your feet flat on the bed as you took hold of his cock and humped it with fervor, moaning at the slick sounds it made with your lower lips.

kuroo hissed at the increase in stimulation, warm hands grabbing the back of your thighs and folding your legs toward your chest as he thrusted faster between your folds. you moaned louder as you let go of his throbbing cock to bunch the sheets in your fingers.

“you know what they say, good things come to those who wait,” he grunted, hips thrusting faster, making your pussy wetter and slicker.

“besides, you were still a shy and innocent girl back then—until i corrupted you, obviously,” he teased you as he moved one hand to your mouth, inserting his fingers between your lips. you moaned as you sucked, slightly tasting yourself on his fingers.

“i don’t think you could’ve handled this big...fat...cock,” he grunted as he clenched his jaw from the pleasure.

“but now? now you’re my little whore who’s about to know what it feels like to get fucked by a man,” he growled, separating himself from your body. you whimpered, arms reaching out for him but he held your wrists in one hand and placed them above your head.

“you’re already dumb when i fuck you with my mouth and fingers...they’re nothing compared to my dick,” he said frankly, fingertips lightly teasing your puffy clit, aching from the lack of release from the continuous stimulation of his cock. he let go of your wrists and moved his hand to your thigh, fingers circling your skin.

“i-i don’t think your cock will f-fit daddy,” you said in a small voice, staring at his twitching cock.

“nonsense baby, i trained you to deepthroat me, remember?” he reminded you, memories of all the times you sucked his cock filling both your minds.

“i’m going to train this pussy as well. you’ll be begging me to never leave your cunt after i’m done with you,” he declared, positioning himself between your legs again.

“now hump my cock again, kitten. faster this time,” he ordered you, fitting his cock between your lower lips once more.

“yeah just like that—fuck,” he groaned when you ground your clit with more force on his shaft. you cried out at the movement, pussy gushing out more of your juices.

“you like that, hm? like how you’re making my cock wet with your slick?” he taunted you, fingers squeezing the skin of your thigh as he rutted his hips faster.

“can’t wait for me to—shit—bottom out in that tight cunt?” he growled, basking in the heat emanating from your pussy.

you moaned loudly, hips rolling as the knot in your lower stomach threatened to burst. your breasts were freely swaying with each movement your hips made. you threw your head back as your mouth fell open, uncaring of the volume of your cries and whimpers.

“i’m cumming, daddy!” you screamed, pussy clenching around nothing as you drenched your daddy’s cock with your cum. kuroo followed suit, groaning loudly when he released his cum all over your stomach, staining the front of your barely-there panties.

“such a dumb cockslut, you came by just humping my cock?” he teased you. your face warmed in embarrassment, hiding your face in the pillows. kuroo chuckled, honey eyes glinting in mischief. well, he came by just humping your pussy, so he was one to talk.

he spread your lower lips, puffy clit exposed to the air. you shivered at the chill but quickly yelped when he spanked your clit a few times.

“d-daddy!” you exclaimed but he just laughed at you. “just wanted to slap your clit, baby,” he chuckled, hand slapping it once more.

you tried to squirm away from his spanks but he held you in place. he held his throbbing cock with one hand and guided it back to your clenching hole. he rubbed the tip against your sensitive clit before inserting his cock in your pussy.

“t-too big daddy!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes as his cockhead went past your tight muscle.

“shh baby, i know you can do it. you can take my cock, yeah that’s a good girl,” he cooed, palm flat against your stomach with his thumb rubbing the skin. you sucked in a breath as he slowly slipped his cock inside your virgin pussy inch by inch.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good with my fat cock that you won’t even care if my daughter catches us,” he growled when he bottomed out. you whimpered at the force of his sudden thrust and the implication of what he said. he only let you adjust to his large cock for a few moments before he started thrusting lazily.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunted you as his thrusts increased in speed and strength. you moaned louder, body shaking with the thrusting of his hips.

“n-no s-stop! she’s going to hear you!” you begged, voice cracking when he folded your body in half. he began pounding ruthlessly into your pussy, the slick sounds of skin meeting skin filling the air and making you lightheaded from the pleasure.

“so? i dare you to scream my name, slut. watch her bust that door down,” he mocked you, hands pushing your knees further up your chest. you whimpered at the stretch, the sounds of the headboard thumping against the shared wall only served to make you clench around your daddy’s cock.

“fuck—how do you think her face would look when she sees you taking my cock like a good little bitch?” he growled when he felt you squeeze his cock. he grunted as he thrusted faster, balls slapping against your ass.

“yeah just like that, you want me to cum inside you? fill this slutty pussy to the brim? fuck my cum so deep into your pussy that you’ll get pregnant?” kuroo groaned, throwing his head back as he felt his abdomen tighten, the signal that his orgasm was fast approaching.

you held your bouncing tits in your hands, his silk tie only adding to your pleasure as it rubbed against your sensitive skin. “n-no please!” you pleaded, tears falling from your eyes.

“you’re on the pill, aren’t you?” he asked, jaw clenching because he was stopping himself from cumming immediately. he wanted to spill all of his load in one go, after all.

“y-yes daddy b-but—!” you squealed, stinging pain blooming in your chest when kuroo pinched your nipple.

“then take my fucking cum, whore,” he demanded, cock throbbing because he was so ready to spill all of his hot cum.

“n-no daddy! please don’t cum inside me!” you screamed, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tongue lolling out as his cock hit your g-spot.

“shut up and take it,” he growled, hands squeezing your waist as his thrusts grew erratic.

he groaned loudly when he saw your fucked out face, thrusting so deep that his cock teased the entrance of your cervix. his hot cum spurting out of his cock as he filled your pussy.

“daddy you’re cumming so much—oh my god!” you screamed as you came with him, legs shaking from the intense fucking.

“your cum’s filling up my pussy, fuck and it feels so hot too!” you cried out, throat raw from the sounds that came out of your mouth ever since he came inside your room.

kuroo removed his hands from your waist—one hand snaking around your neck, applying slight pressure to the sides as he rode your pussy to prolong his orgasm.

his other hand moved to straighten your leg, rubbing your outer thigh while he cooed at you. “you like my cum, baby?” he asked softly, hips slowly rocking back and forth. you whimpered, your overstimulated pussy aching from his never-ending thrusts.

his movements caused his cum to overflow and seep out the sides of his cock. the mixed fluids fell out of your pussy, sliding down your ass and drenching the sheets beneath you.

“don’t be shy, baby. you can tell daddy if you like his cum,” he encouraged you, leaning down to kiss you languidly on the lips.

“i-i love your cum daddy,” you tell him in between kisses.

“that’s my good girl. happy birthday, my sweet kitten.”

you open your eyes when your best friend throws the damp towel to your face. “quit daydreaming about him! you were moaning ‘daddy! daddy!’ like he was actually fucking you!” she yells while crossing her arms across her chest.

you duck your head in shame. great, now i’m even messier and wetter down there, you grumble. you wince when you hear the squelching sound—dear god i hope she didn’t hear it—as you shift to face her properly while she walks over to you.

“so! tell me more about him, what’s his name?” she asks animatedly, chin resting on her fists as she sits beside you on the island. you swallow thickly, a lump suddenly weighing down in your throat. you inhale a deep breath before coming up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“he’s a shy and private guy...i’m not telling you his name yet because...i really want you to meet him in person, you know...?” you already know him—you’re related to him! you scream in your head.

your palms feel sweaty as your nerves are on the verge of frying themselves. you bite your lip while you rub your thighs together, wincing immediately as you feel her dad’s cum drench your panties and shorts further.

“well, judging by your reaction right now and the sounds last night, he’s not really the shy type when it comes to bedroom activities,” your best friend pouts at your secrecy and then smirks, eyebrows wiggling.

your face burns in embarrassment and guilt, if only she knew she was talking about her dad.

“anyway, i’m going to the library right now, i’m so done with this paper,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“take care and have fun laz—dad! what’s up? what brings you here?” she squeals in delight when she sees him and jumps into her father’s arms while he kisses the top of her head.

your pussy quivers at the sight of your daddy, and when his eyes land on you, he winks deviously then places his daughter back on the floor.

“can’t i visit my favorite girls on my day off?” he says to her while looking at you. your best friend is clearly oblivious to the desire that was swimming in her father’s sharp eyes.

“well, i’m going to the library to finish my paper. you guys can hang out in the meantime, but don’t watch our show without me!” she says as she walks out the door and ends her sentence with a click.

kuroo locks the door and turns to you, eyes glinting like a predator. he picks your body up and sits on the chair, settling you on his lap and wrapping his long arms around your middle. his large hand cups your cheek and he kisses you, earning a moan from your mouth when his tongue massages yours.

you kiss for a while and then he pulls away from your lips. he grabs your chin firmly, fingers squeezing your cheek open as he spits inside your mouth. you moan while swallowing his spit, hands reaching for his stubbled face before kissing each other sloppily once more.

“you keeping my cum warm for me, kitten?” he asks, lips separating from yours to leave kisses and nips on your jaw. you moan and squirm on his lap as his other hand sneaks inside the waistband of your shorts and inserts two thick fingers in your messy and dripping cunt.

“such a good girl for daddy. you kept his promise,” he growls lowly, biting the skin of your neck and leaving a mark which he soothes with his warm tongue.

“i think my kitten deserves a reward, hm? would you like that?” he asks you, fingers curling inside your tight walls.

“y-yes daddy!” you whimper, grinding your hips on his lap. he smirks and removes his fingers from your cunt and stands up from the chair. you whine at the loss of stimulation and he shushes you with his finger—the one he had inside of you seconds ago.

“let’s go to your room, shall we? daddy missed his favorite girl.”

[1:14 PM]

[ladyartemesia]

Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

[calltomuster]

Star Wars Fic Recs Part the Fourth

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list]

Been a few weeks since I've done one of these and I've read/reread some great fics recently so let me share them with you now!

And I Fear Nothing by @maiseey (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 11/? chapters, 43.4k words) Picture this: I am sitting in the parking lot of my local grocery store, having just bought a load of perishables. I get the email that And I Fear Nothing has just been updated. What do I do: run home to preserve the food I just paid for, or sit in my car and read the new chapter right away? The answer is obvious, of course! That is exactly the situation I found myself in last week when chapter 11 dropped and I did in fact choose to read it in spite of my groceries, that's how much I love this fic. In this fic, Obi-Wan and Cody are raising Luke and Leia together on Tatooine, and they've got so much trauma, and new + old wounds, and love for each other and the children they're raising that it both warms your heart and tears it apart. But that's not all, this fic expands beyond just the small home in the middle of the Jundland Wastes and explores Ahsoka and Rex and their journey to de-chip as many clones as possible. I love this fic because it doesn't shy away from hard conversations, but it does it in a way that makes you want to cry and give everyone involved a hug. Plus, there are some fantastic minor clone characters that you will 100% want to die for by the time you finish reading. Cannot recommend this fic enough.

Obligate by @communistkenobi (gen, one-shot, 23.9k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin & Ahsoka) Just when you thought the Deception arc didn't have enough pain, this AU sees Anakin fake his death instead of Obi-Wan! My heart is physically ripped out of my chest just thinking about this fic, so imagine what it'd do to you actually reading it. Anything @communistkenobi writes is so well-done and I've gone through his works list on AO3 multiple times, but somehow I missed this when it was first posted and it was like a wonderfully delightful surprise when I ran into it the other day. So, so good. Highly recommend!

Moirai by damonkey (gen, WIP, 4/? chapters, 9.2k words, Obi-Wan & Qui-Gon) All I can really say about this fic without giving anything away is that it's a Phantom Menace AU and it's so intriguing. The author is very deliberate in having a vague summary and only tagging as the story progresses, so I truly have no idea what's ahead of me but it's so -- as I said -- intriguing that I'm happy to strap into the ride. Ahhhh I'm skimming through the fic and there are so many things I want to mention but I don't want to give anything away!

Almost Home by @frunbuns (gen, one-shot, 5.2k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) You know, every time I recc a Modern AU I'm like "I don't usually like Modern AUs but..." and then proceed to gush over the fic. I went and checked and I've recced a Modern AU on almost every fic rec list I've made! Maybe I do like Modern AUs?? Or maybe the fics are just that good -- and this fic is definitely that good. In this fic, the first of a planned series of fics set in a modern Star Wars universe, Obi-Wan is reeling from the loss of his adoptive father Qui-Gon and has to care for a young Anakin. Ooooooof. Definitely hits you right in the feels, this one. Love the non-chronological storytelling too!

Naked and Not Paid by biscuitlevitation (Obi-Wan/212th Attack Battalion, WIP, 6/? chapters, 14.9k words) This fic is essentially ~15k words of the clones thirsting over Obi-Wan and it is the funniest thing I have read all year. I'm not kidding, I just read the last chapter which features space-church-lady!Anakin and I laughed so hard I cried. I'm cracking up just thinking about it. I promise you will have a good time reading this fic. And if the tag "Obi-Wan Kenobi/212th Attack Battalion" puts you off, let me just say there's no sex in this at all, it's just thirst. And it's hilarious.

Full Disclosure by @trixree (Obi-Wan/Cody, WIP, 2/3 chapters, 7.4k words) ROTS AU in which the Force bonds Obi-Wan has formed with a few members of the 212th save them from the chip and Order 66, but it doesn't stop the devastation from happening on a mass scale and they all have to try and deal with Mustafar and Luke and Leia. This fic manages to be both extremely soft and extremely gut-wrenching at the same time, and I wish I could leave more kudos. Full disclosure (get it, little pun there for ya), I will be dying until the final chapter comes out. Time to go listen to Olivia Rodrigo and reread this fic and just live in my feels.

Thirteen Days by @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) Post-Zygerria arc, Anakin dresses an unconscious Obi-Wan's injuries and struggles. Ahhhh this fic is one of my favorite Zygerria arc fics, and given that that's my favorite arc, that's saying a lot! Obi-Wan doesn't say a word in this fic, but his presence is very much there, if you know what I mean. And the descriptions of injuries here are pretty graphic at times, but it's so good that you'll want to keep reading even if you have to do it through the fingers covering your eyes.

brother, let me be your shelter by @kenobilovebot (gen, one-shot, 1.6k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) This fic packs so much tenderness in a short amount of words. It covers an AU in which Obi-Wan's issues from Zigoola never really resolve, and Anakin finds out when -- well, you'll just have to read for yourself. I love Zigoola because it is such an excellent whumpfest for poor Obi-Wan and this fic is great for that, but also highlights Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.

A Padawan At War (Again) series by @itstimeforstarwars (gen, 3 parts, 100k words, Obi-Wan & Anakin) In this series, Obi-Wan and Anakin are transported from The Phantom Menace into the Clone Wars and have to deal with all that comes with it: fighting wars, discovering a Padawan you never knew you had, dueling your grandmaster who apparently is a Sith Lord now(?!) and all the rest. This series is a great ride, and I look forward to every update. Note: the first fic in this series is a one-shot that was expanded upon, and it drops you in media res. The second fic is a prequel that shows how they got to that point, and the third fic is the sequel that shows what comes after.

The Desert Storm series by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning (complete, 24 parts, 1.144 million words) There has never been a better time to start reading this series. If you read Star Wars fics on AO3, then you've definitely seen the Desert Storm series before, but maybe you were daunted by the high word count, or felt like it would be too much effort to go all the way to the beginning of a series but couldn't just jump in halfway. Let me tell you, it's 100% worth it, and now is the perfect time to read this series if you haven't already. This series is complete, but it turns out it's all just Act 1 of the larger story, which will continue in the Rise and Fall series. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning is taking a break right now before starting the next series, so you have ample time to get caught up, and YOU REALLY SHOULD. Let me tell you, this series had me on the edge of my seat more than any other piece of media I can remember. With the most recent chapters, where everything that has been building for a million words came to a head, I would get so worked up after each chapter that beforehand I would have to queue up calming things to watch afterwards, and it still wouldn't be enough and I'd be too full of feelings to get anything done the rest of the day. Seriously, this series is amazing. And if you HAVE read it before but haven't reread, now is the perfect time for that as well. I've reread this series multiple times and it's so rewarding because the author sprinkled in so many hints as to what will come that you only understand the second (or third) time around. I know I've written a lot for this rec but this is a long series and it deserves it. Go read! Now!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 11.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Maya Jump Scares (My Fave!), Sweet Yoongi, Talks of BDSM, Mentions of Hard and Soft Limits, Sexual Teasing, Introducing OC to BDSM, Kissing, Panty Kink, Use Of The Color System, Bondage, Training Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Breast Play, Degradation (Slut), Squirting, Mentions of Lactation Kink, Yoongi Cries, Pet Names, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Edging, Multiple Orgasms, Embarrassed Yoongi

A/N: Good luck. I'm fucking DEAD. Always a shout out to the greats @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna

Yoongi probably hasn't slept this well in a long time. Probably since he was a kid.

It's difficult for him to rouse from his slumber. It's comforting to feel your limbs contorting around his. He can feel himself drooling on your pillow distantly.

Everything feels like a dream right now. 

He can feel your head laying on his arm. His hand is pressed to your stomach still and he feels such peace.

Opening his eyes, he can make out the chandelier on the ceiling. The daylight rays that bleed through the window bounce off of the Swarovski crystals that hang and they sprinkle the walls and ceilings with rainbow lights.

He would have never noticed these things before. Did last night change something in him? 

Looking around the room, he jumps at the sight of Maya as she leans against the marble wall.

He sighs loudly, his hand running through his hair as his heart beats rapidly.

"What?!" he mouths to her.

Looking over at you, he brushes some hair off of your sleeping face. The baby must be making you so tired.

You did work hard last night on the delicious dinner you made. That might tire you out too.

Maya raises her eyebrows at the both of you in bed.

You groan at the light that now shines on your face since your hair has been moved.

Throwing your body over Yoongis' with a whine, he shushes you gently on instinct.

"Go back to sleep, little dove. You're alright." he whispers gently.

"It's twelve o'clock." Maya mouths to him, holding up his Rolex watch.

He's late for work.

Looking down at you, he watches how peaceful you are in your sleep.

He doesn't care about work. He's perfectly content where he is. 

He flicks his hand, telling the woman who is like his mother to go away. 

With a smile, she bows her head. "Sir."

"Yoongi?" your voice is laden with sleep.

He finds himself smirking as you whisper his voice.

"Right here. I didn't leave," he promises as you pick your head up off of his arm.

"I slept like a brick," you mumble.

Chucking to himself, Yoongi can only agree.

"Me too. I'm late for work." he jeers.

You sit up quickly, eyes roaming the room before finding the digital clock by the bed.

"It's twelve! You're so late!" you gasp loudly.

"It's okay, I'm the boss, little dove."

"That's not a good excuse," you jeer, shoving his shoulder with a laugh.

He finds himself chuckling as he lays back down on the pillow. "I can work from home."

You pout at him, combing your hair over your shoulder as you sit up against the headboard.

"I haven't been up to the third floor, yet." you admit, stretching your limbs to a satisfying degree.

"I can show you what's up there. Maybe after we eat some brunch," the father of your child suggests, laying back down on the pillow.

"I'd like that," you reply, warmly.

Last night, you discovered so much about the man lying beside you. You could never imagine how hard his life has been. It's really a shame. 

But, there are times you find his sweet side peeking out. And you decide to focus on those instances from now on instead of the others.

He deserves it. 

You deserve it.

"Why haven't you made yourself at home?" Yoongi asks, gently.

Looking around the room, you notice the cardboard boxes of paintings and stuffed animals. Small little knick knacks piled up without a place to go.

Humming unsurely, you look around the room. "I just didn't feel like my stuff was good enough to put in here maybe? I didn't really feel the need to do it." you reply with a shrug.

Yoongi scoffs gently as he stands, twisting his back with a groan. The sounds of his bones cracking echo throughout the large room and you smirk as he walks over to the boxes.

You watch his legs contort and flex through his briefs and the image of his pert backside makes an eyebrow raise.

He is really good looking.

Picking up a stuffed red panda, he tilts his head at the cuteness. His eyes look down into the box and he notices just how many stuffed animals you have.

"Jesus, why do you have so many?" he asks with a laugh, continuously picking up some of the toys big and small.

Sitting up to look past him, you giggle.

"Every year during the Fall Festival, I get at least two. Their fun to get! Makes fun memories!" you reply happily as you stand up.

"You can remember every single memory for each stuffed animal?!" he sounds bewildered and it makes you laugh.

"Of course!"

"No fucking way!" he jeers.

Stepping beside him, you watch as he rifles through the box.

Pulling out a panda at the bottom of the box, he hands it to you.

"What memory is that, smarty pants?" he quips, leaning against the glass door to your balcony.

Your lips purse as you stare down at it.

"Well this is Yukhoe, I got him at the fair… seven years ago, I think? I won him for getting the most consecutive balls in the one thousand point hole during skeeball."

"Bullshit!" Yoongi cries with a laugh.

His laugh is so pretty. Even the gummy smile he gives you is heart stuttering.

"I'm serious!" you reply, shoving him gently with your hand.

He snorts loudly, rolling his eyes as he folds his arms.

"You should put them up if you have so many memories," he insists looking around the room.

You hum unsurely, placing the toy down to grab at your stomach.

"Or maybe you can put them in the babies' room? That'd be nice," Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly.

You find yourself smirking even amidst your morning sickness. He's being so kind. It's making butterflies appear when you thought it could never happen.

Finally, he looks back down at you. He notices how you clutch onto your stomach, how you lean against the armchair for support. 

"You feel sick?" he takes it upon himself to tie your hair up without argument.

"Just a little," you reply.

Helping you sit down, he crouches beside the chair. He rubs slow, soothing circles to your back as you rest your elbows on your knees.

"It'll go away," you promise. 

"I know, little dove. Sesame gremlin is really molding your body to how it sees fit," the CEO whispers.

Your heart feels warm as he speaks such kind words.

"You remembered," you whisper in awe, turning your head to look at him.

He smirks, furrowing his eyebrows. "I remembered? That you called it a sesame gremlin?"

You nod happily as he chuckles.

"That's our baby name for now, why would I forget that?" he asks, confused.

"Just didn't think you cared that much," you reply, the nausea starting to ebb away.

"Oh, I care. It's just hard for me to show it sometimes… Most of the time." he whispers, brushing some stray hairs away from your cheek.

You hum sweetly, a noise that fills the man beside you with glee.

"I feel a little better," you whisper, sitting back up.

"Good. Let's go get you some water and food, hmm?" he asks softly, helping you stand.

Watching you walk away to the bathroom, Yoongi can only describe this past encounter as comfortable. It just seems right. It feels domestic and warm. 

It feels so perfectly his.

"Frederic, that was amazing!" you say, setting down your fork.

The chef looks up at you from the pan, a wide smile set on his face.

"Madame. You flatter me. I am just your humble serviteur," the man says, bowing to you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a chuckle. 

It didn't take long for him to call his office and tell them that he would be working from home. But, it was just long enough for him to begin missing you while you were in the shower.

He's starting to become attached to you. He's only ever felt attached to Maya. 

"You have to go work, right?" you ask him as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

He nods slowly, picking up his coffee while turning to you.

"Yeah, just gotta go over a few documents. You can come up with me though, if you want to. Bring a book or something?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

Not too long ago, that question would have made you feel uncomfortable. But now, you're more than content with agreeing.

"Sure, I'm almost done with a book I took from the library," you reply as he helps you down from the stool.

"What book are you reading?" he finds himself asking, his arm extends, politely telling you to walk first before him.

"Atlas Shrugged," you reply, ascending the stairs.

The prospect of you reading such a large book makes him impressed.

"When did you start reading the book?" he inquires softly, the both of you landing on the second floor.

"Two days ago," you say, walking towards your studio to grab the book.

"You're almost finished with a one thousand page book in two days?!" his voice is filled with awe as you pick up the hardcover book.

Turning to him, you press the book to your chest with a smile. "Well yeah, it's a great book."

His lips purse, seeming impressed. "Well goddamn, you're an enigma aren't you, little dove?" 

 The third floor is perfectly grandiose. There are small cases filled with what seem to be heirlooms lining the marble walls. 

"No one really comes up here." Yoongi explains as you walk through the large hallway.

The two wings at the top seem to be filled with crates and boxes. There are white sheets that cover many pieces of furniture and at night you would hate to be up here. It seems like it would be creepy and daunting.

"Most pieces of furniture and the art and statues in the crates haven't been added down to the museum wings, yet. I just leave them up here." Yoongi says as you wade through them all.

"So interesting," you quip, lifting a white sheet to look at the pretty furniture beneath it.

"Kinda creepy." Yoongi says, folding his arms.

You hate to admit it but you nod along with his words.

"Just a little," you reply with a giggle.

"Come," he whispers softly.

As you continue back to the main hallway, you feel his hand on your lower back once more and it fills you with a sense of calm. 

He's getting good at that these days.

"This is my office," he says, opening up the double doors.

Everything in this room is pristine and you can tell that it's never been used before last week.

As you go to step inside, your feet linger as a black door down the hallway catches your attention.

"What's that room?" you ask, curiously.

Your feet taking off without you.

"Oh, little dove! Wait!" Yoongi cries out as you step in front of the door.

It has a fingerprint key to it. Seems secretive.

"This is just a room of my hobbies and stuff," he sounds absolutely embarrassed.

His hand rubs at the back of his neck and you notice how his irises shake with nerves, looking from the room and then back to you.

"Show me," you whisper as he leans against the wall.

He hums unsurely. 

You sound so excited about it. 

"It's really not for you to see." he replies.

Frowning, you tug on the door handle which gives no reaction.

"Come on. It can't be that bad. Unless, you have dead bodies in here," you joke.

Rolling his eyes, he sighs gently. He doesn't want to see you frown. So, against his better judgement -- he puts his thumb on the fingerprint scanner. The noise echoes throughout the silent floor and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"It's a BDSM room. I've never used it though," he says quickly, opening up the door.

"Whoa," you whisper as the room is opened up to you.

Automatic lights turn on as you step inside. 

The walls are all black marble and the large bed that sits at the far end of the room is mocha brown. 

You can tell the sheets are satin and luxurious even from far away. 

But, the main thing that catches your attention is the multitude of cabinets and drawers that line the walls almost artistically.

Yoongi watches you with nervous eyes. He watches how you run your hand over the wooden fixtures that line the walls.

"What's this?" you find yourself asking.

You point to a large black X figure that is attached to the wall.

The CEO rubs his hands together nervously, pushing himself off of the door frame to walk closer.

"It's an X cross. You hop on these footrests and you get shackled to it," he sounds uncomfortable as he speaks.

"Cool." you reply, setting down the book to hop on.

"Whoa! No! You're pregnant, be careful!" he whines, putting his hands on your rib cage to keep you up against the cross.

"So? Just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean I'm broken," you quip, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Little dove," he admonishes softly.

He looks up at you on the cross and the dirtiest things begin to flit through his mind.

Imagining you naked, with your hands and feet shackled to the cross. Seemingly incapacitated as he strokes your pretty pussy. 

What would it be like if your belly was bigger? He'd be able to rub--

"Get down," he begs.

Rolling your eyes, you hop off of the cross.

"You're no fun," you quip, walking around him to the wall of riding crops and canes.

"I am fun!" he retorts, folding his arms once more.

"What's this?" you ask softly, your fingers running through the multitude of leather strands that hang from the top.

"It's a flogger," the father of your child mumbles through gritted teeth.

He sighs softly as you pull it off the wall.

Rearing back, you snap the flogger to your hand and your palm sings with the devilish sting.

"Ow," you whisper softly.

Yoongi watches your eyebrows contort in pain and he's quick to rip the toy from your grasp. It tugs at his heart.

"Stop. You're going to hurt yourself," he admonishes, once more.

The way he speaks, even if it's supposed to come out gruff and annoyed, it just sounds caring and worried. Which is why you're perfectly okay with continuing along with your nosy inquiries.

"Do you like to flog people? Or hit them with this?" you ask, taking a large, thick cane off of the wall.

The way he sighs, it makes you smirk.

"Depends on the situation. How bratty the sub is being," he throws the word bratty right at you and it makes you smile.

"So would you be caning me or?" you quip as you turn to him.

His tongue licks at his lips at the prospect of it.

"I would be fucking wrecking you until you're begging," he mumbles, pulling the thick cane out of your hand.

"So let's play," you whine, tugging his hand over to the bed.

His eyes flutter shut and it takes all of his inner strength to pull away from you.

"You're pregnant. Stop it," he chides, hanging the toys back on their appointed shelves.

"No fun," you mumble, sitting down on the bed.

The bed hugs you comfortingly and you hum in appreciation laying back.

Turning to you, the father of your child watches as your shirt rides up. He can see the small little bump beginning to form and he clenches his teeth at the sight.

"I have to work," he reminds you, watching you run your hands over the satin sheets.

"Go ahead. I'll be here, playing with myself. You have vibrators?" you giggle as his eyebrows furrow.

"Come on, little dove," he says, already heading to the doorway. 

With a small giggle you stand up, you'll break him. In time.

It's difficult for Yoongi to pay attention to work, once again. His eyes keep drifting to you over his laptop. You finished the book in the first hour that you've been in his office. 

Now scrolling through your phone, you pretend not to notice how he stares at you over the lip of his computer.

The light from your phone highlights your swollen breasts and the CEO finds himself shifting in his seat a multitude of times. 

Just thinking about you in that room is doing things to him. He constantly tries to swat away the thought of having you in that room. But it's becoming more difficult as the hours go on.

What's so wrong with having sex with pregnant women? 

There's really nothing wrong with it per se. But he feels like they should be more paternal, no? You're carrying a child, would you also be indulging in sexual acts? 

He doesn't know how to feel anymore. Like he's thought countless times before, you're fucking with his head.

"This says that Doms and Subs have a contract," you speak aloud.

Yoongi huffs out gently, putting his hands over his face. 

You're getting too obsessed with this.

"Sometimes," he replies softly.

"Do we need to have a contract?" you ask with a smile.

He snorts gently at how pleased you look.

"No, little dove. We're not having sex, so of course there is no need for a contract." he says through gritted teeth.

You are really something else.

Crossing your legs, you scroll through the website.

He tries to focus on the many words that are staring him in the face but he keeps looking back at you as your eyes continue to light up.

"Oh! Soft limits. Let's start here," you say happily.

Yoongi puts his hands in his hair, tugging softly on the strands.

He feels like he's going crazy.

"Y/N, please," he whispers, almost begging you.

"We promised each other that we would be truthful to one another."

Rolling his eyes, he replies. "Yes, in the sense that if either of us asks a question we would answer it honestly. Not in the sense that if you suddenly find yourself on a BDSM website, you feel compelled to tell me the truth about what soft limits you're setting for yourself in a non-existent dom slash sub relationship." 

Scowling playfully, you roll your eyes.

"Well. My soft limits are as follows."

Yoongi sighs loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky off his desk to keep his thoughts at bay.

He feels his lips tugging upward as you look through the website.

So annoyingly cute sometimes.

"Breast bondage is a soft limit. Because they hurt a lot right now," you murmur.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes narrowing at you.

You're trying to rile him up. He can feel it.

"Little dove," he warns you as you lean closer to the desk.

"Nipple clamps, not sure if I'd be okay with that right now. Anal play, never done it so I'm not sure if I'd like it. Over the knee spanking, won't be able to do that soon." 

Yoongi sips his whisky slowly, letting the warmth of the alcohol curl around his muscles.

"You've never had your ass played with before?" he asks, obviously intrigued.

Got him.

"No. I've only ever been with a few people before and they didn't seem into that sort of stuff," you reply.

He scoffs gently. Your ass is one for the ages, you should have been played with.

"Maybe after you give birth, I'll show you." he suggests above the lip of his glass.

"Sounds like a promise," you quip.

He smirks gently, leaning back into his chair. "Maybe, little dove." 

"What are your limits?" you inquire, trying to push him more.

He hums, closing his laptop. Clearly, he won't be working anymore today.

"I usually only write hard limits. No fecal or piss play. No straight jackets. No pony play. Shit like that." 

"I have no idea what any of that means besides the shit play," you reply, making him laugh.

"Why are you so obsessed with this all of a sudden?" Yoongi inquires, raising his eyebrow.

"Well it's something you enjoy, so I'm curious about it! You took an interest in my painting. And, I like the idea of getting interested in what you enjoy. You seem very safe and protective of your hobby and that's great!" you say happily, leaning against the desk.

The CEO hums gently at your kind words.

"You're so sweet," he mumbles, resting his chin on his hand.

Fine, he'll play along.

"Is fisting a soft limit or a hard limit?" he inquires.

Locking your phone, you turn your chair more towards him as he throws his feet up on the desk.

"I've never tried it before but it seems painful," you reply honestly to him.

His tongue slowly licks over his lips at the simple thought of you beneath him.

"What about butt plugs? Any preference?" 

"Never tried them," you whisper, picking up your glass of water.

His lips sputter as you tilt your head. 

This feels so free and so right. It's playful and fun. The sexual tension just adds to how normal this all feels.

"You haven't tried a lot of stuff, have you?" he asks, taking his feet off the table to stand.

"No actually, I haven't. I've always been kind of prude when it came to sex. Me and you in the back room was just a one off really. I don't really do that sort of thing," you explain truthfully.

He hums in agreement, rounding the desk. "So I'm special?" 

You certainly think so.

"Maybe," you whisper, your head tilting as he steps behind your chair.

"If I show you my hobby one time, will you leave it alone?" he asks gently, bending down to your ear.

His breath is warm against your now flushing skin.

Since getting pregnant, when you aren't feeling sick or tired, you've found yourself overwhelmingly horny. It's almost a fucking sin.

"I don't think you'll be able to satiate yourself after just one time," you quip, feeling his hands run over your shoulders.

"Oh, little dove. I have the patience and strength to keep myself at bay." he replies, his lips drifting over the shell of your ear.

Yoongi thinks if he can just get this out of his system once then it'll be safer. He's been without sex for a while now and he's perfectly okay with keeping it that way. He'll just take back some wank bank footage and then he won't have to continue thinking about it.

"Will you be gentle with me?" you find yourself asking, your voice sounds small and it makes Yoongi's cock begin to harden beneath his briefs.

"I'll take very good care of you, little dove. I promise." he says, holding out his hand.

You feel excitement starting to creep through you. You've been thinking about this for a while now, if you're being honest. When you had sex with him in that back room, it was the greatest sexual experience you've ever had.

Taking his hand, you find him smiling down at you. 

"Come on, little dove. Time is money." 

His voice is more playful this time around and it makes you giggle. Winking at you, he tugs you out of the large office.

"We'll go by the color system for today, okay?" the father of your child asks softly, unlocking the secret room with his fingerprint.

"Color system?" you ask, gently.

He hums in agreement, running his hands over your sides as the door shuts behind him.

Bending down, his eyes flicker to your lips. 

God, he hasn't kissed you in so long. Is this something else he can indulge in just for today?

Taking shallow breaths, his hand cups your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the softness, breath hitching as you wait patiently.

This feels so right.

Without a second thought, he presses his lips to yours. 

You've almost forgotten what he tastes like. You've forgotten how excited and on edge you were in that back room.

Groaning against your lips, the tip of his tongue traces the seam for you to part for him.

His hands grip at the globes of your ass. "Jump." he whispers against your lips.

Doing as told, you mewl into the kiss. You wrap your legs around his strong waist, hands carding through his hair.

His tongue is rough over yours, taking the small gasps and moans you give to him freely.

Yoongi walks towards the bed, laying you down gently as he climbs over you.

Pulling away from you, his lips are red and raw. His eyes are hooded with lustful intentions.

You've both been thinking about this for a while now. 

"What do you say to me if you want to play?" he asks, sitting up.

Your eyes trail over his body, finally landing on his erection that strains almost painfully through his pants.

Licking your lips, your mind completely goes blank.

"Little dove, you answer me when I'm talking to you. Or have you forgotten?" Yoongi asks, running his hands over your clothed legs.

Your mouth opens to reply but it isn't fast enough for the CEO. 

Pinching your inner thigh just hard enough to cause a reaction, he smirks as you squeal softly.

"Answer me, little dove. Or I'll go back to my office and we can forget all of this playful fun," he threatens.

Pouting up at him, he simply chuckles.

"Daddy." you whisper.

"That's it." he replies, bending back down to kiss you.

You can feel your loins beginning to curl and unfurl with hopeful desires. 

"Take off your clothes only on the upper half of your body. I wanted you stripped by the time I get back to this bed," Yoongi's voice is dominating as he whispers against your lips.

Reaching up to kiss him once more, you find him already pulling away. 

"You're not going to fuck me?" you ask, quickly taking off your clothes to accommodate his words.

"No, little dove. You're pregnant," he reminds you, digging through a drawer for rope.

You roll your eyes at his words. It's always pregnant this or pregnant that.

"It's perfectly safe to have sex while I'm pregnant y'know," you tell him hopefully as you unhook your bra.

"I'm sure it is, little dove." he replies softly.

Once he finds rope that he thinks is suitable, he tugs it in his hands a few times to hear the fabric snapping back onto itself.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your heart starts to beat faster with excitement.

"Are you naked for me?" he asks, focusing his eyes on the many toys that hang on the wall.

"Yes," you reply, breathlessly.

He's afraid to turn around. What if he falls deeper into his lustful ways for you if he sees you so bare before him?

He has this unrelenting fascination with you so far. Something that truly makes his palms sweat. You're so good and kind, so beautiful and understanding.

What if he just continues to fall? He doesn't know how he'll be able to cope or cushion himself.

He musters his strength. 

Turning around, he takes in your swollen breasts, your veins visible against your skin from how huge they're already becoming. Your nipples are bigger, darker and puffy.

"Oh fuck," he curses under his breath.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He's not going to be able to keep this at a one off at this rate.

"Are they okay?" you ask nervously, looking down at your breasts as he continues to ogle.

"You're gorgeous," he assures you, walking slowly back over to the bed.

With the sweet compliment soothing you, you find it easy to lay back.

Drifting his thumb slowly over his bottom lip, he takes you in.

"Take off your pants," he instructs as he sits on the edge of the bed.

He watches you do as told, his eyes drifting over your breasts to the small bump that's growing slowly but surely.

You're a vision to look at. 

Unfortunately for Yoongi, he's already becoming attached to you in everything. 

"Give me your panties," he commands.

"I think you have a panty kink," you quip, throwing your underwear on his lap.

Chuckling, he stands up putting your panties into his back pocket.

"Just your panties, little dove. We're going to go over some instructions before we play, okay?" he asks, running his free hand over your bare side.

The warmth of his hand makes your body go rigid. You nod understandingly as he bends down to kiss you.

"When I'm with a new sub or," his thumb grazes over your cheek as he pulls away from you, "a very beautiful mother of my child. There needs to be rules." 

"I'm listening," you reply, earnestly.

"We're going to use the color system. Green means it's okay to keep going. Yellow means to proceed with caution. Red means to stop. If you say red at any point, that's it. It's over. We don't have to play anymore. If it gets too much you have to make sure you tell me red, do you understand?" his voice is gentle as he explains.

"Alright, that sounds fair." you say as he lets the rope fall loose from his hand.

"Can I tie you up? Is that okay with you?" 

The prospect is too good to deny. You nod with a small smile, sticking out your wrists.

"Repeat your colors for me while I tie you up, little dove." he instructs, pulling your arms over your head.

"Green for okay, yellow for slow and red for stop." you repeat for him, the neediness starting to seep into your voice. 

"Good girl," he praises you.

Pulling the rope tighter, he makes sure you have breathing room but not enough for you to get out.

"You're good at tying knots," you compliment, tugging on the restraints.

Yoongi chuckles as he slips down the bed to tie your feet. "Just call me a boy scout."

With a giggle, you wiggle your hips playfully as he travels south.

His eyes narrow up at you, a glint of happiness flitting through them as he smiles. He nips at your outer thigh, earning a gentle groan from your lips.

He doesn't even need to watch how fast his fingers move to tie you up, he could honestly do it with one hand behind his back. Instead, he decides to focus on you. To focus on how you squirm for him and how shallow your breathing is. He watches your chest heave up and down, your nipples turning into stiff peaks at his longing gaze.

He wants to remember this, remember all of this because this is a one off. And, he has to remember it as such.

Hopefully.

"You okay?" he asks, finishing up the knot tying.

"More than okay," you reply.

"We're going to try to train your orgasms, little dove. Make it so that your orgasms belong to me and only to me," his voice is gruff, the prospect of having your orgasms to himself and only himself is sending him into overdrive.

"You can do that?" you find yourself asking.

Situating himself between your stretched legs, he begins to smirk.

"I can, if you want to give your orgasms to me. Do you want that?" he asks, brushing some hair behind your ear.

While he has been caged off, you haven't been. You understand him more than ever and it would be special to have him control something so powerful. He's already given you a child, given you somewhere so grandiose to live. You can give him your carnal pleasure. 

So you nod.

"That's my girl," he whispers with a wink.

Bending down, his lips trace over your jaw. He takes in every hitched breath and every signal of rigidity as it sets into your bones.

"Your tits look so good." he compliments, earning a gentle gasp from you.

Your head turns, wanting to give him more access to the column of your neck. 

"You're going to need patience, little dove. You need to give yourself over to me completely, do you understand?" 

You can feel your arousal beginning to soak the sheets beneath you, your hands strain against the ropes begging to feel his body. "Y-Yes Daddy, I understand," you whisper softly.

"Good. I'm going to let you cum once and you tell me when you're about to cum, do you understand me?" he asks, pulling away from the shell of your ear to lock eyes with you.

You feel yourself falling into his mocha irises, can feel yourself wanting to give him your everything. "Yes."

"Good," he kisses your lips gently.

His lips continue to kiss over your skin, your hips bucking into the air for more.

"Behave or I'll stop," he threatens against the column of your throat.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips pressing into a straight line as he gently suckles on your skin.

He leaves small cherry blossom petals in his wake as he continues to lavish on your skin. 

This training is something Yoongi has always been good at. He's always thrived from being in a position of power. But for once, he has an overwhelming urge to please. Something he hasn't felt… well ever. 

Moving his hands up your side, you gasp loudly as he gently cups your breasts.

He shivers at how full they feel in his hands, how swollen and sensitive the skin is beneath his palms.

"Oh, Daddy!" you moan as he squeezes softly.

"What's your color, little dove?" he can barely contain himself above you, his cock is so hard and throbbing within the confines of his jeans.

"G-Green, Daddy. Feels so fucking good!" you whine, your head lolling back as he continues to squeeze.

"Fuck, I bet it does," he whispers, kissing over your collarbone.

Pulling away from you, he can see how flushed your skin is. He can see how swollen your clit is already becoming and he knows that he can make you cum easily without even having to touch you.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" 

You whimper at his words. It takes you back to the night you were together.

You enjoyed hearing how dirty he could talk. How perfectly degrading his words can be.

"Your slut, Daddy. I promise," you moan out as his knees knock your legs open wider.

"Yeah, I bet you are. Pregnant with my baby and letting me take your pleasure how I see fit," he mumbles.

Biting your bottom lip, your body shudders as his thumbs swipe over your sensitive nipples. 

You gasp loudly, your body undulating beneath him.

"I've-I've wanted you to touch me for so long," you moan, tugging on the restraints. 

His lips turn upwards into a smirk at your words. He's been wanting it for a while too.

"Me too," he replies truthfully.

His thumbs and index fingers nibbley roll your nipples.

Trailing his eyes over your body, he can see how much arousal is trailing down your perineum and soaking the bed. His eyes flutter shut at how gorgeous and vulnerable you are beneath him. 

He lets his lips trail over the curve of your breast, releasing one to reach for the apex of your thighs.

Your body shudders under his touch, preening for more.

Picking up your spilt arousal on his fingers, he suckles on them. God, he almost forgot what you taste like. 

"Jesus Christ." he mumbles.

His tongue peeks out, flicking quickly at your stiff peaked nipple.

Your gasps and moans goad him on, he can barely pay attention as your breath becomes shorter and stunted.

You can feel the band within you tightening.  

You would have never thought that you could be on the brink of an orgasm with Yoongi just playing with your breasts.

"D-Daddy, I'm so close." you whine, spreading your legs wider with hopes your center will be touched.

He hums in agreement as he forsakes one breath for the other.

He makes a mental note of how sensitive you are for him. 

Suckling your nipple into his mouth, he moans against your skin. 

"Daddy, I'm cumming!" you moan loudly, your back bowing off of the bed as white hot pleasure courses through your bones. 

He pulls off of you, rolling and pinching your nipples with his fingers until you're orgasming beneath him.

Your ears ring, mouth going dry as you babble his name incessantly.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises and he raises an eyebrow as you squirt onto the sheets below you.

He takes all of this in. Every little reaction you had to his advances, all of your ques to elude to your orgasm. You'd be very easy to train. 

He waits patiently for you to come down from your orgasm, stroking your skin lovingly.

"What's your color, beautiful?" he asks softly, palming the erection in his pants.

"G-Green." you whisper, already wanting more.

You don't want this to end, and you don't want this to be a one off.

"Well aren't you just such a good little sub," he jeers, bending down to kiss you.

You could get drunk off of his kisses. They make you feel on top of the world. You want to please him, really and truly please him.

"Can I suck your cock, Daddy?" your voice is so innocent as you ask.

He groans gently, cupping your cheek. "No, little dove. That isn't a part of this." he replies, against your lips.

His hand drifts from your cheek to between your breasts before finally situating over your stomach.

He swallows thickly, feeling how hard your womb is beneath his hand.

"Please? If it's a one off, you should get pleasure, too." you suggest coyly, thrusting your breasts closer to his face.

His gummy smile appears then, almost breaking your fragile heart. "I'm already getting pleasure from seeing you beneath me."

His thumb drifts slowly over the almost invisible bump on your stomach.

You begin to pout, tugging roughly on the restraints that hold you bound.

"Yoongi, please?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowing as you beg.

He sighs gently, his bottom lip purchasing between his teeth as he thinks.

He really shouldn't. This isn't right.

"You're pregnant," his excuse is sounding weaker and weaker every time he says it.

"So? Doesn't mean I can't suck your dick, Daddy. Wouldn't you like to feel my breasts in your hands while I suck you off?" 

He groans gently at your questions, you can see his cock throbbing at your words.

"Little dove," he says breathlessly.

"I'll swallow for you, Daddy. Let you cum in my mouth." you whisper, laying back on the bed.

His eyes roll back at the prospect of it all.

"Maybe when my tits get bigger and filled with milk, you can suckle on them." 

"Jesus, when the fuck did your mouth get so filthy?" he wants to sound appalled but it comes out amused and turned on, as it should.

"Guess you'll have to clean it out. Let me suck your cock." you reply with a smirk.

"Oh fuck." he grumbles, unbuttoning his pants.

"This is a one off!" he reminds you gruffly, tugging down his pants and brief.

Untying your hands, he sighs gently to himself. He's going to give you whatever the fuck you want from now on, isn't he? What the fuck is wrong with him?

As you wait patiently for him to finish untying you, you stare at his cock as it rests against his stomach.

Even on the first night you were together, it's still a beautiful sight.

"This is supposed to be training." he mutters to himself.

You giggle to yourself as your wrists become free.

With over zealous confidence, you press your hands to his chest. Shoving him down, he laughs loudly.

"Watch yourself, little dove!" he chides, holding your hips steady as you straddle him.

You wrinkle your nose playfully at him and he can only smirk.

Man, you're infectious.

It feels good. Like, tingles inside of oneself and giddiness in spades.

Gripping both hands onto his shirt, you raise your eyebrows.

"This shirt was made in Italy." he warns you.

With a careless shrug you rip it open, hearing the buttons pop and scatter along the marble floor.

He shakes his head with a chuckle as you stare down at his toned body.

God, he's so fucking hot.

Your eyes drift over the planes of his abs and they get softer as you look at the small circular burn marks from cigarettes.

"Wait," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

You keep your eyes on his face as you bend down. 

"I don't normally let people touch my-- oh, God," he cries out as your lips drift over his skin.

Your lips feel healing against his skin. His hands grip at your sides rougher as you take your time worshipping his stomach.

His breathing is ragged and his palms are becoming sweaty.

"You're very handsome," you say, kissing over the biggest burn.

His body shivers and undulates under your touch.

He's never felt such odd comfort before.

"O-Okay. Little dove, e-enough," he practically begs.

Maybe he needs training too. Training on how to be loved.

You take pity on him, leaving his burn marks alone for now. 

He sighs gratefully, bringing his hand to his face to wipe away tears he didn't know had even arrived.

"You're so sweet, little dove." he mumbles, carding his fingers through your hair.

You smile up at him kindly, the act making his heart beat quicker inside of his chest.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you run your lips over his long length earning a hiss through clenched teeth from the father of your child below you.

"Fuck," he curses, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

Wrapping your hand around his length, you watch precum begin to pearl incessantly at the seam of his mushroom head.

You look up at him for confirmation and he smirks at your subservience. 

"Very good, little dove. You may." he says, gripping your hair tighter with anticipation.

Swirling your tongue around the head, you take immense pleasure in the way he groans. The groan is long and stunted and you know you're pleasing him already.

"That's it, baby." 

The pet name slips so freely and he doesn't take it back as you bow your head down farther.

"Fuuuck, keep going." he instructs.

Licking his tongue over his lips, he curses gently beneath his breath as you begin a rhythm.

Stroking whatever doesn't fit in your mouth, you can hear words of praise leaving his lips like a prayer.

Your arousal has started to drip down your thighs at this point and Yoongi stares for the longest time, dying to be inside of you.

"Take it all. Like you did the night we made our baby," he commands.

With a gentle moan, you swallow around him. Gagging and sputtering on his cock, your vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Fuck, you're so good at sucking my cock. Jesus Christ!" he moans loudly, his eyes rolling back as you hollow your cheeks around him.

His free hand comes up to palm your swollen breast, being as gentle as he can in the throes of his pleasure.

"You're all mine, huh? I can just take you up here whenever the fuck I want, can't I?" he asks through gritted teeth.

His mouth is getting looser as his pleasure takes over.

You moan in agreement, getting sloppier on his cock. Precum and spittle stream down your chin as you continue to please him.

"You're such a bad girl, little dove. You're too good at sucking my cock, gonna make me want you over and over again."

That's the plan.

With a gentle whine, you let him into the recesses of your throat. His head falls back to the bed, his hips gyrating and thrusting on their own.

"Little pregnant slut, begging to be full of me when she's got my kid inside her. That what you want? You want to be my pregnant slut?" 

You moan loudly against his cock as he begins to precum once more.

Tugging his hand off of your breast, you pull it to your parted thighs.

He curses loudly, feeling how much of your arousal is soaking his fingers. He begins to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, feeling it throb beneath the pads of his fingers.

"You're gonna kill me." he threatens through gritted teeth.

Rocking your hips in time with his fingers, you practically lose yourself when his cock begins to throb for release in your throat.

"Squeeze my thigh when you're about to cum." he warns you and you moan in reply.

Everything about this is so perfect and so yours.

You forget everything going on besides just the two of you in this bed.

It's like it's meant to be.

"Messy little thing," he praises, letting your hair go to wipe your chin.

Sitting up on one elbow, he watches you in your entranced pleasure.

He can feel himself coming to an end but he edges himself, pushing away his orgasm until you do.

With a loud whine, you squeeze his thigh harshly begging to cum for him.

"Uh uh. You wait until Daddy says you can cum." 

You mewl sadly around his cock, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Countdown from ten and then cum." he instructs.

Doing as told you count slowly, breathing shallowly through your nose as he continues to fuck up into your mouth. 

Reaching ten, you squeeze his thigh again.

"Good girl. Cum." 

On his command you cum around his cock. Moaning and undulating as you see stars.

He curses loudly, feeling the vibrations in your throat around his pulsing cock.

"Swallow." he groans out, falling back onto the bed as his thrusts become sloppy.

With a few more thrusts, streams of his cum meet the back of your throat.

You swallow diligently, adoring the taste of him with a whine.

He groans breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as he becomes boneless on the bed.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" he asks, putting his hand over his heart. 

Swallowing all of him, you let your mouth hang open. He grips at your chin, pulling your face down to his eye level.

"Good," he replies in a whisper.

He sighs loudly, running his hands through his hair.

What just fucking happened? 

How did that just turn into some of the best foreplay he's ever had?!

"That was a one off?" you quip, sitting back against the headboard.

He rolls his eyes, sitting up at the end of the bed.

"That was a one off?" he retorts with a whiny voice, grabbing his briefs.

Your mouth falls open as he stands up off the bed.

"You're mocking me!?" you gasp loudly.

"Shut up." he mumbles with a chuckle, bending down to kiss you softly.

His eyes widen at how normal that is before he's pulling away quickly. 

"This was a bad idea!" he says quickly, grabbing his pants. 

You watch how nervous he is and it makes you sad. He doesn't even know what normal is.

"Was it a bad idea? Or are you just scared?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He picks up his shirt, looking at the broken buttons.

"This shirt was from Italy! I had it hand stitched by a ninety eight year old woman living in Florence!" he yells, shaking the shirt in the air.

"Well buy a new one, you love buying stuff." you suggest.

"She could be dead before I get my next order in!" he replies, shaking his fist quicker.

"Are you ignoring my question because you're embarrassed?" you ask, tilting your head.

He grunts angrily, busying himself with untying the knots.

"Miss Therapist, keep your questions to yourself!" he cries out, giving up on the knot untying.

He paces back and forth, his hands in his hair.

"You could kiss me again, that might be an idea." you suggest.

He grits his teeth, his mind running a mile a minute.

This was just a bad idea all together. He should have NEVER given in! He should have just ignored it like he always does. He's still falling, maybe even faster now.

Fuck!

You can see his eyes flickering back and forth nervously.

"Okay!" you cry out, clapping your hands.

Jumping off of the bed, you step into his path. He stares into your eyes as you look up at him.

Grabbing your wrist, he struggles against you slightly. You tuts your tongue, placing his hand on your stomach.

He looks up at the ceiling, pieces of black hair falling into his eyes. 

"It's not wrong that we did what we did. If anything it was nice. Don't let your guilt eat at you," you tell him.

He sighs loudly. 

"I just don't… know how to feel. You know how I get by now…" he replies softly.

"I do know. And, that's why I'm telling you it's okay," you promise.

He closes his eyes for a mere second. Looking back down at you, his eyes open.

His gaze fixes to his hand on your stomach. Then to your swollen breasts which are now covered in small marks made by him.

"We're being truthful with one another still?" he asks.

"Always," you reply earnestly.

He takes a moment, pulling you over to the bed.

"This just feels right, it feels too good… I've never felt this or had this before. And, when I thought I was getting it, well… look at that catastrophe." his voice falls flat, looking down at the marble floor.

"You still have to learn what happiness is, Yoongi. You don't have to be afraid to feel something new. And, if you do then you can tell me all about it. I'm just across the hall." you whisper, nudging your shoulder against his.

Warmth is the first thing he feels after he hears your words.

"This wasn't a one off, was it?" he mutters, earning a laugh from you.

"Doesn't have to be." you reply as he puts his shirt on.

"What if I get the urge to kiss you?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

"Then just do it. You have my permission," you say simply.

He smiles to himself gently, his eyes drifting over your naked body.

"Well, that sounds okay then." he says softly. 

With a hum, you kiss his cheek.

"What if I want to kiss all the time?" he asks, pulling your clothes away from your hands.

"Well, maybe not all the time," you jeer, laying back on the bed.

"But you said I have to learn happiness, and maybe kissing makes me happy." 

You giggle at his sweetness. "I think you're going crazy."

"Me too." he whispers, bowing his head down to kiss you.

As you continue to kiss slowly, your stomach rumbles hungrily.

"Someone's hungry." Yoongi mumbles against your lips.

Smirking against his lips, you feel your clothes return to your lap.

"Can I have my underwear?" you ask, putting your bra on.

"No. They're mine." he replies, helping you put on your pants.

"What, are you making a Y/N pantie collection?" you quip, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your shirt.

Yoongi takes in this moment, feeling how compassionate and fun you are. How absolutely radiating with beauty you are. 

"If you're a good girl, maybe." he jeers back, helping you stand up.

Snorting gently, you roll your eyes.

"Can't believed you ripped my fucking shirt, like a pregnant wild animal." he mumbles, motioning his arm for you to walk first. 

Laughing together, you open the room door.

Standing before you is Maya, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow quipped up to the sky.

"Jesus!" you both yell at the sight of her.

With a small smirk, she simply shrugs.

"Madam. Sir." she says, happiness enrapturing her voice as she takes off down the hall to his office with a feather duster in hand.

Yoongi snorts loudly, tugging his shirt closed. 

If this is what happiness is, he might just be okay with delving into it.

"Let's go get you some food, little dove."

Next Chapter ----->

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Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[yyxgin]

— FROM HOME || LEE MINHO

PAIRING: neighbour! minho x gn reader

GENRE: fluff + angst

WORD COUNT: 3.4 k

WARNINGS: eating behaviours, sad ending aaand I can't really think of anything else

this is a part of the @districtninewriters dear skz, with love event !! make sure to read all the other wonderful stories other members wrote for this !!

You studied the envelope you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands. The quality of the paper was nicer than normal, almost like whatever inside was more important than just a regular letter. You weren’t expecting anything, let alone anything important or special.

But it was definitely your name on the front.

The handwriting was oddly familiar-- the loopy curves and edges of your name bringing you the so well known feeling of longing as you recognised the owner of the handwriting, making your heart thump with the black ink on the envelope. You quickly opened it, revealing what was inside-- a letter written on a piece of lined paper you were so sure he tore out of the notebook you gave him a few months ago. 

Your eyes skim over the sentences, making your eyes well up with tears. You curse at Lee Minho under your breath, because how dare he say those things to you over a letter? Did he really have to be such a coward not to tell you to your eyes? 

You throw the letter back to the floor of your hall-- to the place where you first found it, concluding he must have slipped it under your door when you were still asleep, opening the door and sprinting down the staircase leading to his floor. 

You weren’t going to let him leave like this.

Your eyes skim over his room-- the room you’ve been to multiple times before, but now it looks a little different when it’s half-empty and the posters that were hanging on his walls were taken down into a big cardboard box. You hear his feet shuffling around the bedroom, making you look up from your place on the dark gray rug he had placed in front of his bed, locking eyes with the owner of the apartment-- your neighbour, Lee Minho.

You’ve met him the first week you moved into the apartment. It wasn’t anything romantic, how the teenage books always used to say, he didn’t even help you with the oh so heavy boxes you carried into your apartment all by yourself because the elevator just had to be broken the same week when you decided to move in, hell, he didn’t even take out his mail without a shirt on like the movies used to show. No. The way you met Lee Minho was kind of unpleasant and you’d be more happy to meet him any other way but this, but it seems like god had different plans for the two of you.

You met Lee Minho under bad circumstances, and those were that your washing machine broke exactly the first time you tried to use it. Well, it didn’t even break, to be exact, it just wasn’t really plugged well into the canalisation, as your neighbour himself told you when he paid you a visit after you managed to successfully be unaware of the whole thing and accidentally flood out his apartment with it. 

His face was scrunched up in frustration back then, yet he still acted polite and explained the matter to you in a calm way. When you let him into your apartment, shocked, he not only fixed your washing machine, but managed to steal your heart right there and then-- in his grey sweatpants, crouching on your wet floor. 

“I am so sorry, I really had no idea it wasn’t done properly… my cousin did it for me, since I’m totally useless and I just trusted him with it, but it turns out that I really shouldn’t have…” you mumbled, hands shaking and your lower lip nervously trapped in between your teeth. You wanted to give off the best first impression you could, yet all you managed to do was embarrass yourself in front of your neighbour and on top of that, flood his entire bathroom, which meant he had to get the walls repainted.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. Let’s hope it won’t happen again.” he smiled, the frustration leaving his face in the instance, the furrowed eyebrows replaced by a welcoming glint in his eye instead.

“I will pay you for the paint you’re going to use for this-” you gestured to the wet spots on his walls. He managed to invite you over to his apartment that was situated exactly below yours to show you the damage, which you accepted, because it was your fault, after all. You felt terribly bad and embarrassed to be the cause of his trouble.

“No! It’s okay,” he smiled again, subconsciously squeezing your shoulder, “you don’t have to. You can… come help me repaint it and then we’ll be even.” he grinned at you. 

And that’s how you ended up at his apartment a few days later, a paintbrush sitting in your hand and a paper hat made of newspaper decorating your head made by your neighbour so you wouldn’t dirty your hair with the white slicking off the ceiling. See, Minho told you he knew how to do it himself, but the truth is, the renovation of his bathroom was clearly all just improvisation and neither of you knew how to do such a thing, but it only made it more fun for the two of you. 

You bonded over your shared frustration when trying to keep his three cats out of the small room that day. I mean, he couldn’t thank you enough when you saved Dori from drinking up the paint he left opened on the floor, a relieved sigh escaping his lips being all you needed to hear to make your heart burst with adoration.

“What are you thinking about?” Minho tears you out of your reminiscing, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Oh, nothing,” you mumble, drifting your eyes to your hands in your lap, sighing, “I just remembered how the two of us met. I’m surprised you even wanted to be friends with me after I flooded your bathroom back then.” you grin, hearing him giggle.

“I was so mad that day I seriously thought I was going to throw a fit, but when I saw your scared eyes, I just couldn’t do that to you.” he laughs, sitting next to you and offering you a glass of orange juice. He discovered your addiction for it when you bought a whole carton of it last winter and managed to drop it on the stairs, making it spill everywhere with a loud curse leaving your lips, resonating through the whole apartment complex. 

You take a sip from the glass, smiling at him and looking him in the eye again. “I would have cried if you threw a fit.” you snort.

“Oh I know, I could tell, trust me.” he laughs. It seems like Minho always knew what was the right thing to say in moments like these. Over the past few months, Lee Minho grew into your best friend. There is only so much stuff you can hide from your neighbour-- with the walls being thin and rumours spreading quickly from the elderly ladies living in your apartment complex, but to be honest, after all this time, you would trust him with your whole life.

You can’t even count the times he must have heard you crying in the middle of the night, or the times when he made the effort to go up the stairs and knock on your door when he did just so you didn’t have to cry alone. You felt a little embarrassed the first time he did it, but after a while, it was nice to have somebody to lean on when things got rough. He was always there-- exactly 20 stairs below you-- and you knew you could always count on him with everything.

“You knew me too well even back then,” you roll your eyes at him, catching the playful glint in his eye once again. 

“I wish I could un-know some things though, you know-”

“Don’t even start-”

“-like the time when you ran out of toilet paper and called me to bring some in, like seriously, Y/N?” he glares at you, teasing even the last bit of you in his so familiar nature. Yes, this was the Lee Minho you knew.

“Not my fault you used it all up the evening before when you came over! It was totally not my fault!” you yell out, accusing him.

“Not my fault your cooking made me sit on the toilet for 30 minutes-”

“Let’s just stop talking about this.” you cut him off, laughing to yourself.

It felt kind of pathetic, but he really knew every bit of you. He knew every centimeter of your apartment, and it wasn’t just because it was the exact copy of his-- just decorated differently-- it was mainly because he’s spent so much time in it. Minho was your neighbour, your first friend in this big town, he was your closest friend and your companion. You felt connected to him on a whole another level you never knew even existed before. It was crazy.

“Right. I still have to pack these things,” he nods, motioning to a few of his books sitting on his bed-side table and the cat toys laying in the corner of his bedroom. Soonie, Doongie and Dori were at his parent’s house for the time being and the apartment without them seemed even more empty now that the tree creatures weren’t walking around the rooms and jumping into your lap. 

You sigh, nodding along with him. You get up, bringing the cardboard box closer to your feet and start carefully placing the books into it, avoiding eye contact with him at all cost. With every item disappearing into the boxes and bags sitting by the door in his hall just waiting to be moved, you feel like a bit of your soul is leaving, bit by bit. It doesn’t feel right.

“Thanks for coming to help, by the way,” Minho cuts through the silence, making you look at him. His eyes look at you with sincerity and longing in them and maybe you understand the feeling way too well, but neither of you dare to act up on it. Not now, that he’s not going to be your neighbour anymore.

“It’s nothing, really,” you mumble, “that’s what friends do. Besides, I doubt you’d be able to do it all on your own, since you clearly need my help with everything in your life.” you tease, grinning at him.

He shakes his head in disbelief, poking your side. “Yeah, you’re right,” he laughs out, “but really, I mean it. It’s hard enough for me to… you know… leave… but you helped me so much with sorting out my feelings and the mess in my apartment as well, so I’m really thankful.” he nods, giving you a warm smile that always used to leave you breathless.

“It’s okay. I know it must be hard for you.” you say, closing the box and moving it to the door of his apartment. You look back to the room-- the only thing left in the small space was his grey rug you used to lay on more times than you can count, staring into the ceiling as you listened to your friend rambling about his day next to you, and his bed you, admittedly, slept a little too many times in for the fact that your own bed was literally 20 stairs away. 

“And you?” he asks, voice small and hazy.

“Me? What about me?” you furrow your eyebrows, taking a seat back next to him.

“Is it hard for you too?” he repeats.

When he first told you about the job offer he got from the other side of the state, you were a tornado of emotions. You felt lost and terrified of being lonely, but the emotion overtaking all of it was joy-- pure joy and pride that your friend was finally being recognised for his hard work and skills. You hugged him tight that day, leaving a shy peck on his cheek you regretted in the instance when you saw his reddened cheeks, telling him how proud of him you were and how he should definitely take the chance. 

It was the best thing that could ever happen to him-- and that is exactly what you told him back then. 

“Do you think I should go?” he asked, voice unclear and coated in nerves.

“Do what your heart desires.” you told him. Although you never wanted him to leave, to move out of the safe space he created for you in the apartment below yours, you never wanted him to miss the great opportunity he just had. His career and his well-being meant so much more to you than your own happiness.

And so he took the job offer and here you were, almost two weeks later, helping him move out to the other side of the country, and it hurt you, it hurt you so damn much, but there’s nothing you would have done differently.

“This isn’t about me,” you mumble, staring into his eyes. You wonder if they tell on you-- if he sees the sadness in them, the fear of losing him forever. They say your eyes are the window to your soul and you wonder if Minho sees inside, because you are inviting him in. You’re going to miss him, but you will probably never tell him. Because that would only make it harder for the two of you.

“Tell me.” he insists, taking in your emotions, his voice barely louder than a whisper in your ear as he comes closer to you, intertwining your legs on the fuzzy rug.

You scoff, shaking your head. “What do you think?” you ask.

There’s no way he doesn’t see the state you’re in. You haven’t slept in days, your dark circles making their visit under your eyes ever so often since you discovered the possibility of losing the person that is the closest to you. You tried to put a happy face in front of him, you really did, but Lee Minho knows you too well. You know he knows. You both just pretend he does not.

He rests his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing. The closeness of your bodies makes your heart race. Sure, you’ve been this close before, but it has never felt as intimate as now. You stare into his eyes for a moment before you let your eyes instinctively close on themselves just so you don’t let them wander to his lips, because that would surely let him know a little too much about the feelings you have for him. 

“It’s hard to let you go, but I know you’ll truly shine there, you know?” you let out, whispering. You open your eyes to find him staring at you, eyes filled with sadness and fear, flicking in between your eyes and your lips, just how you were scared of doing a few seconds ago. You wonder if he’s going to kiss you, if he’s going to give you the last goodbye, but he doesn’t.

His lips reach your forehead instead, placing a loving kiss onto your skin, but the butterflies in your stomach act on it with the same intensity as if it was a real kiss.

“You’re going to do amazing, Minho. Don’t be afraid. I believe in you.” 

And with that, you pay your goodbyes. Neither of you say it, but the both of you know that it might be for the last time. It feels like an end-- maybe because it is, but hell, you still treasure these moments just as much. You really did have fun with Lee Minho in your life.

Your feet reach the bottom floor, hands hurriedly banging onto the wooden door. Your breathing is quick, hands shaking from nerves. There’s no way you’re letting him leave like that. You know you already said your goodbyes at his doorstep yesterday, but after reading the letter, things were put into a whole different perspective.

You recall the words on the paper, the sentences running through your head like a broken record as you continue to bang on the door.

Dear Y/N,

I know we already said our goodbyes, but I can’t sleep and I feel like I have to write you this letter. There are so many things I want to tell you, but can’t, simply because I am a big coward and I’m also, coincidentally, bad with words, but I guess… here goes nothing.

I know you felt it last night. I regret not kissing you on my crusty grey rug you love so much (you can keep it if you want), but at the same time, I regret nothing. Perhaps ending it all with a kiss would make it only harder for me us.

From the day I met you, I knew you were going to be someone special. And not like, special in a way that you are special, because we are all just ordinary normal people, but special to me. You stole a big chunk of my heart and you never gave it back, so I guess I’ll just let you keep it haha. I know I told you I didn’t yell at you for the washing machine because I didn’t want you to cry, but it was mainly because you were too beautiful and I got nervous, so…

You told me to do what my heart desires when I first told you the news. I know it sounds cheesy, but what my heart desires the most has always been you. I know you’d feel bad for keeping me here, though. We have always been dreaming together and my dream has finally come true. It hurts me to know you won’t be there by my side to live it with me and it hurts me to know your dream hasn't come true yet, but I am rooting for you. You know that.

Anyways, I am spiraling a little. I wish this wasn’t so hard for me. 

I should have asked you out on a date long, long ago. I missed out big time. But I guess it’s too late to do that now. 

It hurts me to know I won’t be just a floor away from you now. It hurts to know there will probably be another dude moving in in a few days that will get to live though your first meeting (and I hope it won’t be as disastrous as ours was), but at the same time, I don’t want you to be hanging on me. 

Promise me to be happy. Promise me to never change. 

And the most important thing I wanted to tell you is that I love you. I’ve always had and maybe I always will, who knows. I know it changes nothing. I guess I just selfishly, desperately wanted you to know. In case you didn’t know it already.

Oh, and your cooking’s actually nice. 

I love you. 

I’m going to I miss you already. 

— sincerely, your favorite neighbour, partner in crime, washing machine repairer, pain in the ass, and the most fabulous best friend,

Minho. ♡

Once you finally realise you own a spare key you were supposed to return to your best friend last night before saying goodbye, your hands instinctively take it out from the huddle of keys from your own apartment and unlock his front door. 

Your feet dash through his apartment, reaching his bedroom, but finding it empty. 

You nervously turn around, seeing the boxes from next to his door had disappeared, just like his suitcase had, when it truly hits you one last time-- he is gone.

He is gone and there’s nothing you can do about it now. You loved each other, but now, it’s too late.

You reach his bedroom and find the grey rug still there, waiting for you. Your feet wobbly meet the middle, letting you fall to the floor as you hug yourself on the floor, laying in the emptiness of his room, missing the way he’d always lay next to you and his cats crawled on top of your body. 

And you finally let yourself cry-- you let it all out, because the truth is, even though you never said it to him, it is so damn hard for you. It feels like a piece of you left with him.

But perhaps, what hurts you the most about it all is, that it’s never coming back. 

You didn’t even get to tell him you love him.

[lovingonrepeat]

Forever is a Long Time // Mark Lee

Part seven of my Kinktober // NCT 2020 Project

DAY 7: Mark + overstimulation → “Say my name over and over again, and when you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good.”

Word Count: 1.4k || Genre: smut

Warnings: femdom, overstimulation, facesitting, oral (f receiving), praise, crying, multiple orgasms

This work is completely fictional. Feedback is welcome. Hate will be blocked. Thank you!

(credit x)

Mark was addictive.

The way his eyes light up when he talks about things he's passionate about. The way he claps when he's happy and laughing. The way he can be awkward and not totally know what to say at times. The way he moves when he's dancing and rapping and in his element.

You never had a choice when it came to falling in love with Mark. As soon as you met him, you were hooked.

Your love for him only grew stronger once you finally entered into a relationship with him, and you were able to see all sorts of different sides to him that you loved equally as much. The way he looks after just waking up, with his hair messy and glasses on. The way he gets blushy when you kiss him in public. How focused he is when he plays you a new song he wrote on guitar. Each new thing you discover about his was just as mesmerizing as the next, and you never wanted to stop discovering.

The first time you had sex together was magical. You had never thought there was a way to fall in love with him more, but he loved to prove you wrong, and you found yourself enamored with the sight of him in this state even more. The way his jaw goes slack when you touch him. The sounds he lets out when you tease him for too long. The desperate look in his eye when he really wants to earn it. You couldn't be blamed for wanting to give him everything in those moments. It was just what he deserved.

You found yourself discovering a new side of yourself too, one that came out only with him. It was a cruel sort of sweetness. When you and Mark were together, you couldn't help but want to give him everything and nothing at the same time, to want to see how blissed out he got after being teased for hours on end, to be so so sweet to him after he finally earned your touch.

It's a maddening experience for Mark, but he couldn't ever ask for more. He loves the way you switch from being so kind to being so mean at a speed that makes his head spin. All he ever wants to do is please you and touch you and for it to never end.

But his mistake was telling you that.

He's withering under your touch, tongue buried in your folds as you grip his dick in your hand. The game is simple; he gets granted his orgasm once he's successfully gotten you off. It's rules that he's used to following, but that doesn't make it any easier for him to focus on you pleasure when you're touching him like that. You have one hand wrapped around him, stroking him firmly while the other hand ghosts along his stomach. The muscles flutter under your fingertips, and you love the sight as he arches into your movements.

You can't help but moan out at the way Mark is moving against you, sucking your clit into his mouth and flicking his tongue against your most sensitive areas. His moans join yours as you jerk him off, and the added vibrations of his noises just serves to heighten your experience.

It doesn't take long for you to cum at all, not with the way he's groaning against your core and the way he's sucking on your bundle of nerves and the way his dick is twitching in your hand. He helps you ride through it, more concerned about extending your pleasure than even coming up for air.

You move away from his mouth and he gasps softly, allowing his lungs to fill as he looks at you adoringly. His face is shiny with your release, and he looks up at you with glowy, desperate eyes.

"You're so good to me, Mark," you praise, leaning down to place kisses all along his thighs as you continue jerking him off, and with the way he's squirming under you, you know it won't be long at all before he cums, too.

"Thank you," he breathes out, the words coming out fast and breathy. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Of course," you reply. "Nothing makes me happier than making you feel good."

He smiles, but it only stays on his face for a moment before it morphs into a moan as you twist your wrist around him. His eyes flutter shut at the action, and he reaches out until he finds your free hand to hold.

"Oh my God," he groans. "Gonna cum soon, gonna cum soon."

"Yeah?" You ask, and you love the way he nods, eyes squeezed shut as his head jerks up and down hard.

"You're so pretty when you cum," you inform him.

His eyes blink open at that, as if he can hear the mischief and far off quality to your voice as you speak.

"I am?" He questions between deep breaths, and you smile down at him.

"You are. I'm so glad I'm the only person who gets to see you like that. It makes me wanna touch you forever."

He gulps, and you know he's figured you out.

"Forever?" He asks, gasping as you double the speed of your hand against him without warning. When he speaks again, his words and slurred and high pitched, coming out fast and muffled by a whine.

"That's a long time."

"I know."

It's your words, a cruel threat masked by sugary sweetness, that sets him off. He cums with a cry, jerking up into your hand as ribbons of white land all over his stomach and your hand, and your pace slows down as you help ease him through it.

But his fears come true when you don't stop.

He writhes under you, squeezing your hand hard between his fingers as he struggles to catch a breath. His moans are broken, high pitched whimpers as he stares at you with big eyes.

"Oh my God, oh my God," he cries, and he doesn't know if he wants to move into or away from your touch. All he knows is how overwhelming it is.

"My good boy," you say softly. "I wanna make you feel good. Over and over again. Can you take it?"

"Yes," he sobs out, tears falling from his eyes as the feeling reaches new heights. "It's just so much."

"I know, baby," you coo, showering him with praise and encouragements as you use his own cum to help work him up to another orgasm, and you're addicted to the way he shakes and gasps through the pleasure. He's way beyond the point of coherent thought, and all he can do is moan your name as he barrels towards the edge again.

You lean forward, placing a kiss on his lips and then onto his forehead, and you pull your hand away from his so it can come up to caress his cheek. Your voice is soft as you whisper to him.

"I want you to do something for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

“Say my name over and over again, and when you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel good.”

He doesn't disappoint, crying your name over and over like a prayer as he threatens to cum again. He didn't know it was possible to feel this much pleasure, to be so all consumed for by the feeling that he can't even think of anything else but your name, but he should've known better.

When he cums again, he does exactly as you ask, screaming your name so loud that he can't help but think that his friends back in Canada must've heard him. And when he falls asleep in your arms once you finish cleaning him up, he's not sure if he's ever slept that hard.

You stay up though, staring at his beautiful, peaceful face as you think about how lucky you got. It couldn't be helped that you would wanna play with him like that. When he looks this gorgeous, you really can't help but think about teasing him forever, sleeping next to him forever, just being with him forever.

And he's right. Forever is a long time, but as you fall asleep, you can't help but think that forever would be incredible with Mark Lee by your side.

Tagging @mingishoe ​ @armysantiny ​ @domreaderrecs @chickenkatxu ​@lucas-wongs @drippinlovetalk @brooklynalpha @wildernessuntothemselves @loviejaehyun @skzctnightnight @capriccio-con-espressione @euphoricsunflowers @nct-writers @kpopscape as requested! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for future fics!

Read all of my fics HERE!

[marvelyhp]

A thousand yous

Synopsis: Adelaide (or Y/n) opens up to Bucky and he tries to settle her fears and finally tells her how he feels.

Word count: 1790

Disclaimer: I don’t own the papasito of James “Bucky” Barnes.

Side note: This is another out of nowhere piece that came up. I thought about making this a series or a story but I’m not sure. I guess I got tired of seeing it in Google docs and put it somewhere else. Oh and Adelaide’s name can be changed for y/n or y/n l/n for the end, I just prefer to use actual names. I’m writing all this as if I expect anyone to read this.

++++++++++++++++++

Bucky found her sitting beside the window, her head propped against the glass pane. Eyes focused on the moving lights of the cars and the city, yearning gleaming in her face.

“I miss wearing my dresses,” Adelaide whispered, her breath leaving a trail in the window.

Bucky’s heart stopped at the sound of her voice. He let her words sink in before answering her, eagerly wishing she was opening up to him and felt more comfortable around him. Hope grew deep inside him.

“You mean the red one, with the white flowers?” Bucky started walking towards her to settle beside her on the windowsill. His knee brushed hers as he sat, looking at her face, not bothering with the twinkling lights in the city but the lack of them in her eyes. He missed that shine, her smile, and her carefree personality. But he was so thankful to have her next to him right then, it didn’t matter if he had to discover her all over again.

“Oh, the red shirtwaist. That was my favorite. I just miss the simplicity of it.” It came as a whisper, and he noticed the wavering of her voice.

Memories of her in that red dress, the one that left him more breathless than usual crossed his mind. He remembered her dancing with him in a fair, surrounded by hundreds of people. He remembered Steve dancing with a pretty brunette to his side. Her smile stood out most for him, the way it would light up her whole face, light up his whole world. The way her beautiful golden skin glowed. He remembered her twirling and giggling as she danced with his finger in her hand, her long onyx hair an umbrella as it rose around her.

The girl in front of him was not the Adelaide he knew. He couldn’t read her as well as he used to but she was rough around the edges, he saw the anger in her eyes every day. He saw the fear hidden behind a mask of indifference. He saw how fidgety she was around men, and untrusting of women. She didn’t let anybody in. He thought about how much she resembled him after he left Hydra, the things he saw in her that he knew he still harbored.

“It feels ridiculous to miss that,” Her voice resonated through the room. The darkness of the room would’ve swallowed them if it weren’t for the rays of moonlight coming through the windows. “To miss something so banal like dresses.”

“Don’t you miss anything else?” He didn’t want this moment to stop, he didn’t want her to stop talking. He wanted her to tell him, to open up to him more. But he wishes for her to mention him, even if once. He wanted her to mention him without that anger she felt towards him.

“I do. I miss the way everything was so simple then, even if it wasn’t. Nothing seems quite as complicated and exhausting as this,” A sigh escaped her lips as she shuffled on the windowsill, turning her body and her eyes towards Bucky. “I miss dancing. I miss Brooklyn and the way it was back then. I miss...” her voice trailed off as her eyes lowered to the ground, leaving Bucky’s blue orbs confused.

“What?”

“Forget it.” Her eyes lingered on his eyes before lowering to his lips. She quickly withdrew them, focusing in the moving bright lights.

“I miss Brooklyn, too. I-I miss Steve, so much. Every day I wake up and wish he was here to tell me what I’m doing wrong, or laugh at the stupid things I say or just call me an idiot. He was the only one who understood me.” Bucky’s voice had taken an edge of sadness. The memories of Steve laughing, dancing with his off-beat moves, being plain stupid and his heroics coming into view in his mind.

“I miss Steve, too.” It was a whisper, but the pain and sadness laced in her voice made him feel as though she was screaming. A pang of jealousy poked at his heart. Steve’s face and words as they talked about Adelaide that afternoon in the apartment in Romania shooting on his mind. He shook his head, Shame settling in his gut at his thoughts. It didn’t even matter now because Steve was no longer with him, he could no longer defend himself or say what he thought.

When Bucky looked at her face, she was still facing the window, her lips slightly pressed together. Her lids closed, a small tear glistening in the moonlight. He waited for something more but nothing came.

“He missed you too,” Bucky’s lips pursed. “He used to talk about you all the time. Anything we would do would remind us of you, but he would be the first one to comment on it. Damn it, sometimes I wanted to shut him up”

“Why did you?”

“Because it was too painful, talking about you.” A sigh escaped his lips as his hands traveled to cradle his face to then push his fingers through the mass on top of his head. “I couldn’t hear about the way you used to dance, or the way you smiled or the way you scolded the both of us. I didn’t want to remember the days we went on dates or think about the nights we spent together.”

Silence engulfed them both, the only sound interrupting were the horns of the cars below. Adelaide’s eyes closed tightly, her arms hugging her elbows. A tremble escaped her lips and Bucky felt afraid he had said too much, that he had pushed her too far. Even then, he decided to continue. He needed to say this, to get this heavy load off his chest.

“I couldn’t talk about you because I didn’t want to remember what I had lost. Of all the things and people I’d lost, you were the one who hurt the most.” His heart thundered against his rib cage, forcing his chest to rise and fall unevenly. He felt his hands shake slightly against the skin of his thighs. His eyes focused on her.

He focused on the way her chest rose and fell erratically. He focused on her body, shaking slightly as she stood up from the windowsill. He focused on the way she paced the living room. He focused on the way she kept muttering ‘no’ under her breath and shaking her head side to side.

“The only thing I thought for 80 years was you, Ady.” She was in denial and that’s when he threw caution to the wind.

“Stop.”

“Your smile was the only thing Hydra couldn’t erase, Ady. It didn’t matter how much of you I forgot, your smile was always there.”

“James, stop.”

“Your face was the first thing I remembered. Please, Ady-“

“Stop calling me that!” She cried out. She had stopped pacing at this point, having turned around to face Bucky. Her head was hung low, her white hair hiding her face.

Bucky just sat there with wide eyes and his mouth in a firm line. Her shout had surprised him having been the first time she had been so vocal. The first time she had expressed so much emotion since he had recognized her coming out of Doctor Raynold’s session.

“I’m not her, James. I am no longer that woman you so clearly loved and treasured. I don’t know who I was, who I am, or who am I supposed to be anymore. You don’t know me anymore, and neither do I.” Her fists were clenched at her sides, her voice shaking with every word spoken.

Seeing her so broken, so fragile, broke something inside him. He felt his heart twisting painfully in his chest. Without thinking, Bucky stood up and crossed the space between them in four powerful strides. His hands found her cheeks, tilting her head up.

Thin almond eyes stared back at him. Tears fell from her eyes, marking a pathway from the pool in her eyes to her chin. His thumbs cleaned her falling tears before he whispered his next words. His heart a thousand miles a minute.

"I don't care if you're not the Adelaide I knew. I would suffer through everything again if it meant finding you, whoever that is at the moment," Multiple tears fell from her bloodshot eyes, tears he washed away like the ocean washes the sand. "I would get to know you a thousand times if it meant having you." Their lips were mere inches away, her small refined nose brushing his. His breath mixing with hers. Both of them breathing heavily, their bodies leaning towards each other involuntarily.

Bucky thought about how close she was. He could feel the warmth of her body melting the coldness around his heart. Her stormy grey eyes looking longingly at him and he forgot the promise he had made to himself. He threw his promise out the window because he couldn't take things slower than they had been.

"Fuck it." That was all he said before he crashed his lips onto hers. He poured every lonely night spent thinking about her into the kiss, every tear he shed about her, every desire he had to see her for eighty years. The kiss was desperate and full of longing.

Adelaide's hand grasped the base of his neck, pulling his head towards her, deepening the kiss. All those emotions she had so desperately tried to hide came floating out of her chest. She had missed him so much. Her right hand caressed the soft brown hair on his head. She had taken a while to get used to the way his hair looked, much shorter than it used to be. His beard tickled her chin and even though she remembered how soft his face used to be, she had started to like the beard and how manly he looked.

They kissed passionately until their lungs no longer held any breath. Until a burning sensation flourished in the chest, lungs screaming for air. Bucky rested his forehead against hers, panting.

"I loved you," he pressed a kiss at the tip of her nose. "I love you, " his lips moved towards her cheek. "and I will always love you, Adelaide Wright." His lips settled on hers once again, this time slow and lovingly.

[pagingevilspawn]

Would you please write a fic about alex and jo help their daughter with her homework, they would be kinds cute help them study

cross my heart, hope to die, please stick this pencil in my eye

there’s a reason this took me forever. reason number one, two, and three; proofs. i was unable to write this because of proofs. i got this ask and LIKE A CHILD decided that i wanted to make my fictional characters suffer as much as i did. so once i was done with proofs, i had to write something about proofs, which made me exhausted because i hate even talking about proofs

that made no sense, but here’s this thing that i made. lots of it was my real life monologue, screaming at my computer bc of fucking proofs. enjoy. (also, let’s appreciate the fact that i updated three whole days in a row)

(also, another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much” series, where i name jolex babies after his AHS characters)

Alex Karev sat in the drivers side of his SUV, making a right onto the upcoming street as he listened to the song playing on the radio. He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel absentmindedly, pulling up to the curbside of James Madison Middle School, waiting patiently in his seat until he heard the five minute warning bell ring.

When the loud bell goes off, he exits the car and makes his way to the other side, learning against the door so his kids would know it was him. Too many parent’s owned black range rovers, and the last thing Alex needed was for either one of his kids to climb into the back seat of some stranger's car. 

He didn’t need to wait long for children to start piling out of the school in large crowds. Middle school was so different from elementary, for his kids at least. He remembers when they would come sprinting out of the building as if their lives depended on it, but now they just casually strolled, no matter how much they liked or disliked school. 

A few minutes later he catches sight of his daughter, who’s eyes light up when she sees him. He wasn’t supposed to pick them up today, the nanny was. But he had gotten off of work early and had insisted with Jo that he be the one to pick up the kids. It was a task he wished he got to do more often. 

“Hey.” his daughter greets him with a smile on her face. He steps aside and lets her enter the side door, where she flops her black backpack on the floor and settles into the seat, pulling out her phone and begins to start scrolling through it. 

“Dad!” he hears another voice exclaim, quickly tracing it to his son, who was currently running to the car, backpack bouncing up and down behind him. The sixth grader moved across the property quickly, greeting his dad with a fist bump before sliding into the back seat.

He closes both of his kids doors before making his way into the driver's side, revving up the car’s engine before he drives down the long block, whatever music his daughter decided on playing through the radio. 

Alex winces when the music begins to blare through the car, “Brynn, turn that crap down would you?”

Brynn’s face looks scandalized. “It’s not crap. It’s art.” she emphasizes, turning it up even louder and screaming the words. (Poor Brynn couldn’t sing, and she knew it)

“I came in like a wreeckingggg ballll I never hit so harddd in loveeee all i wanted was to break your walls all you ever did wre-e-e-ck meee.” she yells, using her phone as a microphone, hair flying around wildly as she moved up and down, side to side in her seat.  

Alex rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his lips. His wife and daughter were too much alike sometimes. He turns the knob himself, sending his daughter a look, silently telling her not to do it again. 

“I think it’s crap. Just like how I think you sound like a dying cat whenever you sing.” his son pipes in from the back, a signature Karev smirk plastered on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on his phone. 

“Shut up Rory,” she sneers, “Nobody likes you.” 

Rory fakes a laugh, looking back to his phone, and then to the scenery outside his window. They passed house after house until they finally reached their destination, John Quincy Adams Elementary School.

“Wait here,” Alex instructs the two kids, who murmurs their we know’s, more focused on the devices in their hand to the words coming out of his mouth. 

He makes his way to the ‘log cabin’ that sat at the front of the school, giving a friendly smile to the woman sitting at the sign out table, a crappy fold out plastic table that had definitely seen better days. “Faye and Bridgette Karev.” 

The woman slides the forms across the table, handing him a pen. “Sign here and here. I’ll go get them right now.” She stands up from her seat and heads inside to tell the two girls that their father had arrived.

Alex sprawls his messy signature onto the page, huffing before leaning up against the gate. His girls could take anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes to pack up their things. Luckily today didn’t seem to be the latter, because before he knew it, the two youngest Karev’s came bouncing towards him. 

“Daddy!” “Daddy!” 

The seven year olds gave him a large hug, showing him matching toothless smiles. When Jo and him found out that she was pregnant for a third time, they were overjoyed. They had always wanted more than two kids, but hadn’t really been actively trying. They were excited to expand their family of four into a family of five. When they discovered that she was not carrying not one, but two babies, they were shocked. Jo wasn’t expecting to get pregnant at thirty-nine, much less with twins. Brynn was seven at the time, and Rory was five, so they were worried about how their kids would react when they found out two new babies would be joining the Karev household. 

Rory --surprisingly-- took the news really well. He was excited with the fact that he could have baby brothers. (Oh well. Alex Karev only seemed to make girls, Rory being the one exception.) 

Brynn was a bit more reluctant. She had heard from her friends at school how much babies cried and stole all the attention. She loved both her parent’s equally, but she was a Daddy’s girl through and through. The thought of losing both of her parent’s focus was terrifying. What if her Daddy called her new siblings names like Bug or Princess? Those were her names, and her names only. She couldn’t let the new babies steal her names. 

It took a while, but after multiple long talks and countless acts of reassurance, but Brynn eventually came around to the idea. Before they knew it, Brynn was just as excited for the upcoming babies as they were. Jo was worried throughout her whole pregnancy. Since she was almost forty, she was now considered to have a geriatric pregnancy. Just the word ‘geriatric’ did nothing to soothe any woman’s nerves, but add that to the fact that Jo was a surgeon and knew all the risks of pregnancy, and she was practically a mess the first few months. As it turned out, the twins ended up being her easiest pregnancy, since Brynn decided to make her entrance into the world four weeks early and while she was carrying Rory she had the occasional spotting that terrified her to her core every time, worried that she was miscarrying. 

The twins ended up being born at thirty-five weeks, perfectly healthy. The only thing that gave Jo any trouble at all was the severe morning sickness, which turned out to be all day sickness. 

But in the end it was way more than worth it. Faye was pretty much Jo reincarnated, just like Brynn. Every aspect about her was exactly like her mom. Her hair, her eyes, her face shape, chin. The only thing that she inherited was the Karev crooked grin, which all of their children had. (She didn’t even have a big Karev head when she was born!) 

Bridgette on the other hand, was all Alex, except for the eye color. Between her potty mouth, sassy attitude, and overall appearance, she was the female mini evil-spawn. 

The Evil Spawn Jr, title belonged to Rory, who was basically the male version of Bridgette. Same spunk, same mischievous smirk. Jo was always telling him that she didn’t know what she did to deserve three devil’s in her house. Alex always found that one really funny. 

“You guys got everything?” he questions the two, who nod their heads up and down enthusiastically, skipping to the car and greeting their siblings. 

He drives the twenty-five minutes back to his house, the twins chattering about in the back seat. 

“And then Julie showed her her math problems, and I tried to tell her they were wrong, but she just wouldn’t listen!”

“Tommy was sooo annoying. I kept telling him to stop making noises with his pencil, but he just rolled it back and forth so many times!”

Alex laughs under his breath, listening partially to the twins’s conversation. They sounded exactly like how Cristina and Mer used to rant about completely different things to each other, so it never failed to make him think back to the ‘olden days’ as he and Meredith liked to call them. 

If someone were to tell cocky, intern Alex that he would be happily married to the love of his life for (legally) fifteen years, father of four kids, and lived in a house that literally had a white picket fence on the outside of it, he would’ve sent them to a long term psychiatric care facility, because there was no way he would ever have that life. (A life he always secretly wanted, tucked into the very tiniest corner of his brain so it could never venture farther than a fleeting thought here or there). 

“--We’re here,” he calls out, shutting off the engine as he parks in the driveway, the kids unbuckling their seatbelts and scrambling out of the car, eager to escape the confines of the vehicle and enjoy the peace of their rooms. 

Once all five were inside, he watched as the four children parted ways. “Faye, Bridge, you have thirty minutes of reading down here. Ror, you have that history test you need to study for, and Brynn, you know what you need to do.” he says, his two oldest tromping up the stairs as the twins take their place in the living room on separate seats, already engrossed in the books they needed to read as part of their daily homework assignments. 

Alex lets out a tired sigh as he flops onto the couch, more than tempted to grab the remote from the side table and flick on ESPN, but knew that he couldn’t. As much as the girls loved reading, they got distracted from books really easily. Loud horns, cheers, and buzzers wouldn’t be the way to go if he wanted any work to get done. Instead, he plucks the iPad from the coffee table, picking up where he left off that morning with an online medical article.

Before he knew it, Faye and Bridgette’s timer had rung out and they started on their math homework on the kitchen island, something that they finished with ease. Another trait Alex was grateful the children inherited from Jo, her smarts. (Specifically in math)

“Ugh!” he hears a loud exclaim from upstairs, causing him to look up from the device in his hands and glance towards the steps, half expecting an angry looking Brynn to come storming out at any moment. He huffs, focusing his attention back to the iPad in hand when no mini Jo comes down. 

“No! There are no other ways!”

Another loud groan of frustration. 

“Son of a butthead! There are NO more ways! None! I don't know how the frick to prove that the freakin angle is congruent!”

Alex debates ignoring it and letting his daughter figure it out on his own, that is until he hears something hit a wall. He quickly makes his way up the stairs and to Brynn’s bedroom, standing in the doorway for a few seconds, trying to observe the scene. 

Brynn’s normally pristine room had books scattered on the ground, blankets thrown to the side, and an open notebooks posed at an awkward angle on the floor. 

Well, at least he knew what hit the wall.  

Brynn sat on her bed, literally glaring at her computer screen, partially debating whether or not to throw the expensive device across the room. She didn’t break eye contact, as if she was in a staring contest. Alex wanted to laugh, but he knew a deathly glare would be sent his way if he did. 

He knocks on the wood door, sending a questioning glance Brynn’s way as she finally breaks her stare with the inanimate object. “Everything okay?”

The brunette huffs loudly, bouncing back onto the bed as she lets out a groan. 

“I hate proofs.” she turns her head to look at her dad, Jo’s signature puppy dog face plastered on her features. He couldn’t help but chuckle. It was crazy how much Brynn looked like Jo. Add that onto the fact that she too shared a love for flannels and jeans, she was pretty much what he imagined a fourteen year old Jo to look like. When he first found out that Brynn was going to be a girl, he said to Jo, ‘I’m gonna need a gun.’ 

Luckily, that never happened, partially because of the fact that Alex hated guns and Brynn had yet to have a boyfriend. He was more than thankful for that. Especially since he’d seen couples at Brynn’s school canoodling in what they thought was private, even though they were in full view of everyone. He’d be fine with his not-so-little little girl dating when she was twenty-five, no earlier. Any man before that would not be very fortunate. 

“I’ll help,” Alex says, taking a spot next to her and Brynn begins to show he dad the problems on her screen, going on about how she was struggling to figure it out. 

Shouldn’t be too hard, right?

____

Jo Karev was thrilled when Bailey offered to take over her service for the rest of the day. Her husband had gotten off early, and Bailey knew how much of a struggle it was to spend quality time with family as a surgeon. 

She thanked Bailey so many times she lost count, all while boasting a large smile. She couldn’t remember the last time both she and Alex had been home before five o’clock. All she wanted was to go home, snuggle with her babies, and spend time with her husband. Well, her babies weren’t technically babies anymore, Brynn was fourteen, Rory was nearly twelve, and the twins were seven, but nevertheless, they would always be her babies. (Who cared if Rory was five foot three and already almost as tall as her? He was still such a mommy’s boy.)

She drove home with a smile on her face, humming along to the songs on the radio. She was so happy. She wanted to take her kids in her arms, and watch action movies on the couch while they pigged out on pizza together. 

When she pulls up in the drive she practically bounces up the steps to the house, swinging open the door and dropping her coat carelessly onto the rack. She hadn’t texted Alex to let him know she was coming home early, in hopes to make it a joyful surprise. 

Her heart stopped momentarily at the sound of yelling coming from upstairs. Arguments between Brynn and Alex were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were nasty. Alex always felt like crap for days afterward and Brynn stayed quiet, both at home and at school. 

“Do the reflexive property again!”

“Dad we already did that!”

“Well do it again!”

“Why?!”

“Do you see any other way to do it?”

“How is that going to help!”

“It just is!”

“Dad, we've done the reflexive property five times now!”

“You think I don’t know that!”

“Say that segment DA is congruent to AD.”

“But-”

“There are literally no other fucking ways to do it! It’s fucking shit! Thats what it is!”

“You act as if I didn’t already freakin know that!”

A loud groan. 

“What the fuck even is this one! We’ve managed to do three of them already. Try proving the triangles congruent now. Push random ones, like Side-Angle-Side.” 

“This is crap! ‘You don’t have enough proof to show that the blah blah blah.’ Stupid freaking thing! Freaking worthless!”

Jo is unable to suppress her giggle, clasping a hand over her mouth, trying not to make too much noise. It was a relief to know that the current screaming match going on wasn’t an argument. 

“They’ve been at that for an hour and a half now.” she hears her son pipe in, drawing her attention to where he sat on the couch. 

Jo sets her bag down on the table, greeting her son with a large hug, “Hi bubs.” she mumbles into his hair, feeling his arms wrap back around her. In private, Rory was the biggest cuddler, touchy-feely person you’d ever met, but in front of his friends he tried way too hard to show he was ‘too cool’ for hugging his mom, so Jo took in these moments and held them close to her heart.

“An hour and a half huh?” she chuckles, running a hand through her son’s gelled hair. 

Rory snickers, hazel eyes shining with mischief, “Yeah, dad won’t stop cursing and Tissy just keeps screaming alongside him,” he sits back onto the couch. “I’m surprised neither one of them had lost their voice yet.” he smirks his crooked Karev smirk, focusing his attention on the TV where he had opened up netflix, where he was currently binging Bates Motel. The name ‘Tissy’ came from when he was younger and couldn’t for the life of him say either Brynn nor Sissy. It seemed to have stuck all these years, and he was the only one who ever called his older sister that, even ten years later.

She sees him cringe, “I never called you mother right?” he asks, eyes not leaving the screen, where a certain Norman Bates is practically spooning his own mother in the bed, claiming that he couldn’t sleep. 

Jo snorts, ruffling his hair fondly, “Definitely not. And if you ever do, you’re dead Ror, hear me?”

Rory rolls his eyes playfully, giving his mom a grin. “I won’t. Promise.”

Jo heads up the stairs, the loud yells continuing to echo through the halls, which she chooses to ignore. 

“Dad for the fiftieth freaking time-”

“--What’s going on here?” Jo questions, causing both her husband and daughter to break away their concentration from the computer screen. 

Brynn’s face lights up at the sight of her mom standing in the doorway, more than thankful to have someone who actually knew stuff help her with her math. “Mom!” she exclaims, getting up from her place on the bed to give her mother a hug. 

“Hey baby. Care to explain to me why the second I walk through the door I'm greeted with screaming?” She questions, eyebrows raised as she sees Alex sheepishly avoid eye contact, suddenly finding the pictures that hung on the wall very interesting. 

Brynn smirks, “Well, Dad sucks at math so-”

“--Hey!” Alex interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t done this crap in like thirty years!” He defends himself.

Jo rolls her eyes and smiles of her own gracing her lips as she reaches the bed and takes a look at the problems on the computer. “Proofs?” she asks from confirmation, earning a nod from her husband and daughter. 

She hums, “Given: segment CA bisects angle BAD and segment CA bisects BCD. Prove: triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC.” she murmurs to herself.

The brunette laughs when she sees the fact that the pair had put down some form of the ‘reflexive property’ not one, not two, but seven times.

She grins triumphantly as she remembers how to do the problem, the skills seemingly coming back to her after years of them being dormant. “Next statement is angle BCA is congruent to DCA because…” she scrolls through the possible options the box provided, smirking when she found the right one. “An angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.”  

She watches as an angle pops up on the screen, only encouraging her to continue, “Then… angle DAC is congruent to angle BAC because an angle bisector divides an angle into two congruent angles.” 

Another angle comes up. 

“Finally,” she smirks, glancing to the side of for a brief second to take in the draw dropped stares of the two behind her. Brynn was a whiz at math like her mom, but proofs was something she’d been struggling with since they’d started learning them yesterday. Geometry was no joke. Her and her dad had already gotten almost all of the problems done, but it had taken so long to do a few measly problems that they’d lost track of just how long they'd been sitting in the room, arguing back and forth over different possibilities to try. 

“Triangle ABC is congruent to triangle ADC, reason being Angle-Side-Angle.” 

She grins, wiping her hands together as she hits the submit button, a large green check with a correct! floating on the screen, going over the ways to solve the problem. 

Alex glares at her. He’d been working on these fucking proofs for so long now, and Jo just comes in and completes it in less than a minute?

“I hate you.” he gruffs, still glaring at both his wife and the computer. 

Jo giggles, leaning over and pecking her husband’s lips. “Love you too.” 

She begins to walk out of the room, stopping and calling out over her shoulder as she reaches the doorway, “Now you just need to make sure the twins did their homework!”

[skeeter-110]

Hi, I loved your last ironhusbands post! My prompt: Teenage Peter with Rhodey and Tony as parents. They don't know he is Spiderman. They discover he is Spiderman during civil war after Rhodey falls. Thank you!

Hi!! Thank you so much for giving me this prompt!! It was a really fun prompt to write haha I enjoyed it. Also, sorry this took me so long to answer, but I wanted to make sure Comfortember was done first before I did anything else haha. I hope you like this!!

Keeping the Family Business. 

Peter has no idea how he's managed to get himself into such a mess.

Of course, now was the moment he decided to begin questioning all of his life decisions. Now, of all times,  when he was holding up an airplane terminal that was dropped onto him by Captain America himself.

Not when he went on that trip to Oscorp and got bit by that spider, not when he realized he gained powers and decided to become a vigilante, and not when his own Father came up to him with a suit he helped build and recruited him to help fight in Germany. No, he only began questioning his decision making skills now as he struggled to push the terminal away.  

It still hasn't a hundred percent sunk in yet that he had actually fought Captain America; that he was actually helping both his Fathers fight the Avengers. Then again, he wasn't sure if he wanted it to sink in. He had all but grown up with the Avengers, he didn't like the idea of having to fight the people he's grown to see as his Aunts and Uncles; but it had to be done.

He was just thankful that while he was helping his Dad build the suit for Spider-Man, he was able to subtly make suggestions that could benefit him. For example: he was beyond grateful that his Dad took to his voice modulator idea. Without it, he knew for sure that he would be found out.

Peter didn't have much time to dwell on anything else because as soon as he threw the terminal off of him, a man appeared out of no where a few feet away, growing up to seventy feet in a split second.

"Holy shit!" Peter exclaims, watching as the man plucked his Papa right out of the air by his feet.

"Okay, tiny dude is big now. He's big now." Peter hears Rhodey warn through the coms, before being slung through the air by the giant man.

"Give me back my Husband." Tony commands. Unfortunately the giant listened and flung Rhodey like he was nothing but a mere piece of paper.

"I got him!" Peter calls out, running and flinging a web to his Papa's back. The momentum caused him to fly through the air along with his Papa, but Peter was bale to quickly plant his feet in a random truck, using that to stop both him and his Papa from slamming right into another bus.

"Okay, anybody on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they would like to disclose? I'm open to suggestions." Peter hears his Dad ask, making him chuckle as his Papa began to take off towards the giant man - that was now destroying practically everything he saw - with Peter still attached to his feet.

As soon as Rhodey got close enough, he began to shoot at the giant, successfully distracting him. Peter took that as his window of opportunity, shooting a web at the giant's chest and flinging himself over the giant's shoulder, effectively getting enough momentum to kick the giant in the face.

For whatever reason, Peter wasn't expecting the giant to get mad when he kicked him in the face, so he wasn't at all prepared when the giant punched his Papa out of the air and tried to hit him with a semi.

Thankfully Peter was able to cling to the giant's back while his Papa shot at the semi, tearing it to shreds and barely avoiding it.  Peter didn't really know what he was doing, especially when his Papa got swiped away and thrown into an airplane, his lack of experience getting him swiped away also.

Peter quickly flipped and swung onto a nearby airplane, running down it as he tried avoiding the giant.

"Hey, guys, you ever see that really old movie, Empire Strikes Back?" Peter asks, sliding down the airplane to escape the giant's arm.

"Jesus, Tony, how old is this guy?" Rhodey asks, Peter's heart sinking a bit when he realized that he was showing his age a bit too much.

"I don't know, I didn't carbon-date him. He's on the young side." Tony responds, Peter not really able to focus too much on the fact that he's making his identity too easy for his Fathers to figure out due to him running at the giant and telling his Father's his plan.

"You know that part... where they're on the snow planet... with the walking thingies..." Peter huffs out as he wraps the giant up from his shoulders to his legs in his webs.

"I think the kid's onto something." Tony says, catching onto what Peter was doing and saying.

"High, now, Tony. Go high." Rhodey instructs, being quick to catch on also. Peter continued to wrap the giant's legs in his webs, waiting for his Fathers to fly over. As soon as they were close enough, both of them uppercut the giant, effectively knocking him back.

"Yes! That was awesome!" Peter laughs, still swinging around the giant. Of course because he was so focused on celebrating, Peter didn't realize that the giant was flinging his arm as he fell, causing Peter to get hit and thrown through the air; crashing into a bunch of crates as he landed on the ground.

Peter just laid there on the ground, feeling completely disorientated as he tried to catch the breath that was knocked out of him again. He could feel someone land next to him, making his defenses rise even though he wasn't going to be able to do much.

"Kid, you alright?" Tony asks, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter instantly turned around, attempting to fight Tony as best as he could. "Woah! Same side. Guess who. Hi. It's me." Tony says, calming the squirming teen down. Peter let out a sigh of relief when his eyes landed on his Dad, fully unaware of his mask that was pulled half-way off of his face, and of the fact that his dad was now squinting angrily at him.

"Peter? What the hell?" Tony all but shouts, making Peter gasp and quickly sit up; the teen having to actively push the dizziness away.

"Dad, I can explain." Peter begins, holding his hands up in an attempt to placate his Father.

"Oh, I so do not want to hear your explanation. Do you know how incredibly grounded you are right now, Mister? For multiple reasons that I do not have the time to get into right now. Stay. Down. That is an order. Your Father and I will be dealing with this when we get home." Tony grits out, Peter wincing at the raw anger that was being directed at him. Tony flew off after that, leaving Peter to sit there.

"Wait, Dad, wait. I'm not done. I'm not-" Peter tries to call out, attempting and failing to stand up, instead choosing to pull his mask completely off of his face and lay down on his back. "Okay, I'm done. I'm done." Peter concedes, tilting his head so he can watch as his Dad and Papa flew after the jet that Steve and Bucky were on; rolling his eyes when he saw Sam following them.

"Vision, I got a bandit on my six." Peter hears Rhodey say over the coms, his heart racing a bit when he saw Sam shooting at Rhodey. "Vision! You copy? Target his thruster, turn him into a glider." Rhodey instructs, finally gaining Vision's attention.

That was when disaster struck. Everything felt like it went in slow motion as Peter watched.

Vision shot off a laser at Sam, which the man easily dodged, causing the laser to hit Rhodey right in the reactor. Instantly the suit shut down completely, causing Rhodey to free fall throughout the air.

"Papa!" Peter cries watching as his Dad tried everything to catch Rhodey; Sam following right behind. Injuries completely forgotten, Peter jumped to his feet and began running, a broken sob ripping through him as he watched Rhodey slam into the ground.

"Papa!" Peter screams, falling to his knees next to where his Dad was, watching as his Dad pulled the face off of his Papa's helmet.  

"Dad? Dad, is he okay?" Peter cries when he sees that Rhodey was completely unconscious.

"Read vitals." Tony commands FRIDAY, trying to push Peter back so he wouldn't have to see his Father like this. Peter practically growled at Tony, pushing his arm away so he could be close to Rhodey.

'Heartbeat detected. Emergency medical is on its way.' FRIDAY responds, Tony letting out a sigh of relief and Peter letting out a sob before hunching over Rhodey at the news.

Sam quickly landed in front of them, clearly trying to hide his surprise at the fact that Peter was there and was the Spider-Guy he was fighting not even a few moments ago.

"I'm sorry." Sam apologizes, Tony not being able to stand even the sight of the man and shooting him in the chest with his repulsor.

Once Vision landed in front of them, anger boiled up in Peter and he couldn't stop himself from getting up and pounding his fists into the androids chest.

"Why did you do that? Huh? Why did you do that?" Peter sobs, his hits clumsy enough for Vision to easily grab the teen's wrists gently, flip him around, and hug him to his chest so he couldn't continue the assault.

"Let go." Peter grits out, yanking himself out of Vision's hold and pushing the android back before quickly running back over to his Dad.

Peter couldn't help the cries that came out of him once again as he stared at his Papa's lifeless body laying in his Dad's lap.

"Is he going to be okay?" Peter hesitantly asks, Tony pulling the teen close to him.

"He's going to be okay, Pete. We're going to make him okay."

*  *  *

"Pete." Rhodey says, trying - and once again failing - to get Peter to look up at him. "Peter. Please look at me." Rhodey says a bit firmer, finally pulling Peter's eyes up from his shoes and onto him. Rhodey couldn't help but soften when he saw the now blackened eye Peter was sporting.

"I'm sorry." The teen whispers.

"What are you sorry about, Buddy?" Rhodey asks, not really knowing what Peter was apologizing for. He knew the teen had a lot to be sorry about, especially since the last thing Tony told him before running after Steve was that their son was Spider-Man.

"Everything. For lying to you and Dad, for sneaking around for months, for not being fast enough to catch you." Peter lists off, his voice trailing as he got to the end of his sentence.

"Pete, you can't be blaming yourself for this." Rhodey says, shaking his head at how much Peter truly was like Tony; he already spent an hour trying to convince Tony that this wasn't his fault.

"If I wasn't just laying there, if I had actually gotten up and followed you guys, or if I had just been a little faster-" Peter states, starting to get himself worked up.

"Nothing could have been done. Don't blame yourself." Rhodey repeats, knowing from just the look on Peter's face that he was still blaming himself and feeling guilty. "Pete, stop beating yourself up about this; I'm fine."

"You're paralyzed." Peter spits out, the harsh words just as sharp as a slap across the face.

"But I'm alive. I'm alive, and I'm still here with you and your Father; that's all that matters." Rhodey says, something in his voice making Peter look down at his feet and swallow his guilt. "Come here, Pete." Rhodey says, patting a spot on the bed next to him.

Peter didn't even have to think twice before getting up and crawling into bed next to his Papa. He quickly got situated in the bed, being as careful as he could with Rhodey's injuries. Once he was sure his son was comfortable, Rhodey pulled Peter close to his chest, thankful that his teen never grew tired of their cuddles.

"So how did this whole Spider thing happen?" Rhodey asks after a few moments of silence, still never getting the full story of how his son was Spider-Man.

"Do you remember that field trip I took a couple months ago?" Peter begins, giving Rhodey a few minutes to think about what he was referencing.

"The trip to Oscorp?" Rhodey asks, his eyes widening when he saw Peter nod. "Oh, you're fucked when your Dad finds out." Rhodey flat out says, startling a laugh out of Peter.

"Papa!" Peter scolds, lightly slapping Rhodey's chest. Although, due to Peter's infectious giggles, Rhodey didn't feel too scolded.

"Well, you are! You know how much he hates Oscorp; this is just giving him justifiable cause other than Norman is a real piece of work." Rhodey says, shaking his head at the thought of his husbands and his antics and to get him back on track to the conversation at hand. "So, what happened on the trip?"

"They were showing up their progress with cross-mutated DNA and showed us the room where they kept the spiders they were experimenting on. That was when one of the spiders got out and bit me. So now my DNA is fused with a spiders." Peter explains, shrugging as if this wasn't the most bizarre thing to have happened.

Rhodey just hummed and nodded his head, not really saying anything as he allowed for all of that information to sink in. He also couldn't help but question how neither him or Tony noticed this was happening. He couldn't help but feel guilty for being so caught up with the accords that he didn't even realize his own son was sneaking out and being a vigilante at night; that his own son somehow developed powers from being bitten by a spider.

"You know I love you so much, right Petey?" Rhodey asks, needing the reassurance that his son still knew he loved and is there for him.

"I know. I love you too, Papa. I'm really glad you're okay." Peter responds, snuggling closer to Rhodey and tucking his face into his neck.

"You're still grounded, though." Rhodey adds in attempt to relieve some of the tension. Thankfully, it worked and made Peter chuckle a bit.

"Yeah, I know. I've kind of accepted my fate on that one." Peter sighs before closing his eyes, fully ready to take a nap with his Papa.

"That's okay, though. We still love you."

*  *  *

"Now, it's just the first pass." Tony reminds Rhodey, referring to the braces the man was now wearing. Tony and Peter had spent almost three weeks working non-stop on these braces, all three of them wanting more than anything for Rhodey to be walking again.

"Give me some feedback. Anything you can think of; shock absorption, lateral movement." Tony lists off, holding tight onto the hand that Rhodey had on his shoulder.

"You know, we could probably put some cup holder on there too if you want." Peter chimes in, making Rhodey chuckle.

"You two may wanna think about some AC down in-" Rhodey begins to say before losing his balance from turning to face Peter and falling down to the ground.

"Papa!" Peter startles, quickly throwing his school books down to run over and help Rhodey up.

"No, no, no. Don't help me." Rhodey brushes both Tony and Peter off, taking a few moment to gain back his breath before rolling over to sit on his butt. Rhodey couldn't help but sadly chuckle when he looked at both Tony and Peter and saw identical guilty looks.

"138. 138 combat missions. That's how many I flew. Every one of them could've been my last, but I flew them. Because the fight needed to be fought." Rhodey begins to tells them, lightly tapping Peter under his chin just to see the small smile he usually gets in return. "It's the same with these Accords. I signed because it was the right thing to do. And, yeah, this sucks. This is - uh -  this is a bad beat, but it hasn't changed my mind." Rhodey finishes, giving both of his boys a smile before leaning over and planting a kiss on Tony's lips and one on Peter's cheek.

Tony gave his husband a small smile in return, standing up and holding his hand out for Rhodey to take. As soon as they got Rhodey onto his feet and made sure he was okay, a knocking on the window got all three Stark-Rhodes' attention.

"A-Are you... Tony St-Stank?" A FedEx worker asks, instantly making Peter bust out laughing.

"Yes, this is- this is Tony Stank. You're in the right place!" Rhodey tells the worker while Peter slowly gains his breath back.

"Tony Stank." Peter repeats, making himself laugh harder.

"Never dropping that, by the way." Rhodey adds, using the railings to begin walking away. "Table for one, Mr. Stank."

"Please, make sure it's by the bathroom." Peter adds onto the teasing, earning a playful glare from Tony.

"Watch it, you just got done being grounded." Tony fake threatens, not doing much to tamper down Peter's laughter.

"I'm going to buy you deodorant for Christmas." Peter continues to rag, Rhodey laughing and giving him a fist bump, causing Tony to let out an wounded noise.

"Betrayed by my own son and husband." Tony screeches as Rhodey and Peter's laughter finally began to die down. Tony couldn't help but smile at the pure happy looks both of his boys were wearing, walking down to where they were and planting kisses on both of their heads.

"Alright, smart-asses, lets go get something to eat.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 4.7}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

It was an odd feeling, to ready herself to face the people who had tortured her, even though she had been sitting in class with them all day. Robin felt slightly nauseous as she stood in Snape's office on Monday night, giving herself a mental push to go out into the classroom already. She'd even suggested herself that she would talk to them instead of letting Snape do the explaining… what had she been thinking?! But they had agreed last night that Robin would come to his office after dinner and then talk to her peers first, before Snape would be 'giving them the chance to reconsider their actions', as Dumbledore had so nicely put it. So that's what she had to follow through with now.

"You do realize that you do not have to do this, yes?" Snape asked with a risen eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at Robin doubtfully.

"I do have to. I'd regret it if I didn't, so let's just get this over with. I'm hoping for coffee and reading once the classroom is void of idiots again." She sighed, and opened the door at last to walk into the classroom with quite possibly the best neutral expression she'd ever been able to plaster onto her face. Snape followed behind her with the same scowl as always.

"Alright, if we're only here to apologise to jay, I might just as well go now." David groaned exaggeratedly and got up from his desk just as Robin reached the teacher's desk.

"Sit. Down." She ordered with a cutting tone and a glare that could have burnt a hole into the wall. David complied immediately, instinctively rather than consciously, which left him looking fairly irritated with himself. But he stayed sitting, and stayed quiet. The other students looked equally confused by the fact that they obviously felt intimidated by Robin, but she only thrived in their irritation as she spoke to address all seventeen people in the room. "You people are bumbling idiots, but not even you could be stupid enough not to know why you're here. What you really don't know is that it was left up to me to decide over your punishment."

Groans and sighs were heard from various people, whispering even, and Robin found herself able to shut them all up with one single glare. She felt mayorly proud of herself for that, but didn't let it slip past her facade as she continued. "My choice might surprise you and probably even make you laugh, but I do not expect you to understand it." She took a deep breath before she finally came to the point. "I forgive you. All of you. For what you wanted to do, and even for what you did. There will be no other punishment than that."

"... seriously?!" David frowned immediately, and most of the others also broke into doubtful whispers or simply snorted at her words.

"Seriously." Robin said sharply and luckily she got their attention even without having to fight for it. "Seeing as you have missed most of the results of your efforts however, we shall compensate for that unfortunate loss now. You'll get to experience first hand just how much your little prank scared me, and believe me, after that, my forgiveness will be punishment enough."

Without another word, Robin moved away from the front of the class and made room for what was to follow. Her part was done, over, finished. She really had forgiven them, on the outside at least, and the inside was slowly catching up as well.

"You should sit down." Snape said as he came to stand next to her, motioning to his desk behind them. "It will be entertaining to observe. In purely educational terms, of course."

Robin didn't need to be told twice and sat down on the edge of the table with a nod and a small smirk. One really had a great view over the entire class from here, and she still stood with her statement from a year prior about switching desks. Maybe she should sit in the chair at the desk instead of on the desk though… but Snape wasn't complaining and so she simply chose to observe the scene from up here.

He didn't waste a single word on them, only waited until all eyes were on him before casting the spell. Upon that, seventeen people at once flinched, yelped or cried out in pain. Alright, Robin hadn't been out for revenge, but her lips did turn upwards upon the sight. Maybe that was cruel… but she found the simultaneity of it highly amusing.

For multiple minutes, Robin observed the tormented faces in front of her with serene amusement. She could tell almost exactly at which point in her memory they currently were, and seeing their reactions in comparison to her own was actually quite fascinating. Almost all of them were in tears after a while, some people even straight out sobbing. It was great and scary at once, to see how her own emotions of the past were currently affecting other people. And yet, to Robin, the most fascinating thing wasn't watching the students suffer through the lowest moment in her life, but watching Snape make them do so. It was alluring and intimidating at once to know that he could compel such immense emotional reactions from so many people at once, and Robin found that her heart and mind agreed on the appropriateness to shamelessly stare for once. It was both impressive magic, and weirdly attractive after all.

A few minutes later however the sobs and yelps subsided, and the room fell silent once more as the display of Robin's memories came to an end. Finally she took interest in her classmates' expressions again, only to find that half of them were carefully avoiding her eye while the other half stared at her with teary eyes in return. Well, at least this entire ordeal had done something with them… but only time would tell what exactly that something was.

"While Miss Mitchell, Professor Dumbledore and myself agreed to not give you any further punishment, I still will take fifteen house points from Slytherin for the incident. Each." Snape said after a moment, but nobody dared to complain anymore. Some people even gave small nods in return. "You are dismissed." As nobody made a move to get up, he added in a pointed hiss, "Get. Out."

Finally the very much shaken students jumped into action and shuffled towards the door without another word. Some glanced back at Robin, and she made an effort to return each and every glance absolutely neutrally. The sympathy she felt for their teary faces was minimal, and evenly weighted with the remaining hatred she felt for them in general. Maybe this was forgiveness after all, coming out of it more or less neutrally.

"Are you serious about taking 255 house points from Slytherin?" Robin finally asked, once the last person had left the room and even closed the door behind them. They really must be quite out of it after all.

"Reluctantly." He drawled and turned around to Robin at last, giving her a small glare immediately as their eyes met. "Get off my desk right now or I will take another fifteen points off."

Robin smirked to herself but obeyed and took a respectful step away from the piece of furniture. "I sincerely doubt that we even have that many points in the first place."

"Maybe you should make an effort to earn some then instead of losing them by sassing me." Snape raised his eyebrows at her in a manner that didn't do more than make Robin smirk even wider, while he now moved back towards his office.

"Well, you could give me house points for not killing myself after what they did, how about that?" She suggested with a mirroring expression as she followed behind him in a saunter.

"And here I was, thinking that my humor was inappropriately morbid." Snape replied in a subtle sigh and handed Robin her backpack with a roll of his eyes. "I could give you five points for shutting them up with a single glare, that was fairly... entertaining." Then he grabbed a stack of papers and students' notebooks from his desk, and they made their way back into the classroom. "Coffee?"

"Please." Robin smirked, and sat down at her own desk in the classroom while unpacking the homework due this week. It was good to be back to how things used to be. Well, almost used to be. Because before all of this, he had never been the first to make her coffee.

______________

In the remaining time before Christmas, things went back to normal indeed. Robin started to get more into a mentor role with her new roommates and helped them out with spells, tricks and general advice like she had promised to. In the evenings she went to the potions classroom to work and drink coffee with Snape, and soon she had more than made up for the week of not doing her homework and reading her borrowed books. Snape had actually been right in the beginning of the year, she was running out of books she hadn't read yet, and somehow she was both looking forward to and dreading that moment at the same time. But for now, Robin was happy in her bubble of studying and learning.

"Will you be staying here over the break again?" Snape asked with an inquiring expression that almost bordered on curiosity, and thereby pulled Robin out of her own mind. It was the evening before the Christmas break would begin, and while there hadn't really been any work for Robin to do, she still had come to the classroom for some reading and coffee time. And as it seemed, the potions professor didn't have too much work on his hands either.

"Yeah, I'll be here as always." Robin answered with a sigh and crossed her arms on her desk to lean on them and over her still opened book. "I will probably spend another year helping out in the greenhouse and the castle gardens… I still owe Hagrid after all. But if you have anything for me to do, I'll gladly postpone everything else."

"I will keep that in mind." He replied neutrally but with an obvious not-smirk, and leaned back in his chair with his coffee mug in his hands. "The castle should be significantly more crowded this year, unfortunately."

"Why's that?" Robin frowned and took a sip of her own coffee. It was the third already… and it was way after midnight. But she just couldn't bring herself to leave tonight.

"Your selective hearing is truly unsurpassed." Snape rolled his eyes, exaggeratedly of course, but chose to answer her question nonetheless. "The majority of students will choose to stay here this year to attend the new year's ball. Obviously."

Robin froze in her movement, and her frown deepened. She had heard people talking about a ball, about dresses and dates and dancing, but to be honest she had ignored it like all the talk about the quidditch parties before that. "There really is a new year's ball? Like… an official school event?"

"It was announced at the end of last term, and again at the beginning of this term. The headmaster addressed it in his speech."

"Well, I… usually read during those speeches." Robin admitted with a shrug while a subtle blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks. "But that explains why everyone is talking about dresses and dates these days."

"It is remarkable how you notice so much and yet so little." Snape sighed in pretended resignation. "Would you like a summary?"

"Please."

"There used to be a Christmas or Yule ball when the Triwizard Tournament took place, but the entire thing was banned by the ministry years ago. There have been voices ever since to bring the tournament back, at least in parts, and they have been getting louder in recent years. A new year's ball is supposed to appease them and suffocate some of the harsher demands for the entire tournament to be brought back."

"So it's a political thing?"

"You could say that."

"This surely isn't what Dumbledore said in his speech, is it?"

"It is what I say now."

"Then it is closer to the truth than what Dumbledore said." Robin smirked, and earned herself a small but harmless glare.

"The only absolute truth I can give you is that it will be a traditional dance." He stated in an entirely unimpressed manner that was more a statement about his thoughts on the issue than anything else.

"I kinda got that when you said 'ball'..." Robin huffed with a small smile. "But since it doesn't seem to be mandatory, I think I won't be attending."

"Why, pray tell, would you choose not to?"

"I just don't think it would be a good idea." She shrugged and observed how Snape frowned at her in consideration.  "I would only spoil other people’s fun by being there."

"I think you should attend." He finally said, and now it was for Robin to frown indeed. "This ball is an important event for the students, and it would be a pity if you missed out on it."

"So you wish for me to attend? Or do you demand it?" Robin asked with a quiet sigh and a half smile, caught between the dread for the event and the excitement that he wanted her to be there. For whatever reason, really.

"I would appreciate it if you did." He replied pointedly, and Robin nodded in return.

"Alright… I'll consider it."

"Good."

"Will you be attending?"

"Professor Dumbledore wishes for all professors to attend. As chaperones and for their own… enjoyment." Snape still didn't look all too interested in the event, but neither did he seem to be dreading it. Maybe Robin should seriously consider going to that ball… if he wished for her to go, her desperately stupid heart would leave her little other choice. Who knew… she might end up enjoying it more than she thought now.

"Speaking of enjoyment, would you like another coffee?" She asked in an attempt to change the topic, and decided to enjoy the now before she thought about the tomorrow.

"Do I even need to answer that?"

… … …

Just as planned, Robin spent her days helping out where she was needed, going from the greenhouse to the gardens and even to the forest with Hagrid. Her evenings remained the same as during term, but she actually got to write another set of labels for Snape on two nights between Christmas and new year's eve. They'd moved their coffee time to the laboratory for the instance, and while Robin was writing about five hundred labels for three different kinds of potions, Snape worked on making the substances and occasionally explained to Robin what exactly he was doing differently than the textbook suggested. It was amazing.

Only during the very last day of the year did Robin actually think about the ball again. She had already decided to attend the very night Snape had asked her to, seeing as the unruly emotional part of her mind didn't leave her a choice in the matter. But she hadn't wasted any more thought on it after that, and thus she found herself stuck with a bunch of questions and decisions a mere few hours before she would be expected to join the party in the great hall.

Both of her young roommates had gone home for the holidays, which was reasonable, considering that the years one to three weren't expected to go to the ball anyway. That left Robin alone in her room yet again, and also alone with the dreaded decision of what to wear. People were talking ball gowns, tuxedos and festive robes, but seeing as Robin hadn't had the time nor the mind to acquire either, she was left with her usual every-day wear. Before long, she decided to put on her usual black jeans and a black blouse, which however left her feeling just a bit too underdressed, and a bit too much like a waiter. Thus she spontaneously added a 'casual' white blazer she'd snatched from her mom, using every spell she could think of to make it look somewhat fitting to her slimmer form. Well… it wasn't pretty, but it was more festive than her usual school uniform and thus it would have to be good enough. She wasn't trying to impress after all, only to blend in.

And blending in she did, once she made her way into the intricately decorated hall, however more with the boys in their tuxedos and robes than with the girls in their colorful dresses. Well… she couldn't care less. Most tables were already taken by small groups of people, the remaining seats reserved for their friends, and thus Robin made her way to the very last empty table in the furthest corner of the room. At least she had her peace and quiet here, far away from the area reserved for dancing, and far away from anyone she knew. The festivities began, people celebrated the last night of the year, music flowed through the room… and Robin stayed sitting at her table, alone, observing the other students as they laughed and danced.

Honestly, it didn't surprise her at all that nobody made an effort to talk to her, for she made no effort to be anywhere near approachable in return. Observing the others was good enough to keep her from being bored, but she could've had that much in her room, or in the potions classroom, and the only truly amusing thing was watching the professors' despair about the students' inability to ballroom dance properly.

After a good two hours of more overall chatting than dancing, the music changed from entirely classical to more universally danceable, and the change was soon followed by students starting to take the dancefloor. Robin however still stayed in her corner, content with observing rather than participating, for there were too many people in the room for her to be comfortable anyway. She hated big events like this, where people constantly moved around in unorganized groups, and it honestly made her almost as anxious as the common room. Hopefully it would be midnight soon, so that she could leave in the knowledge that she had stayed for an appropriate length of time.

"May I?" Snape's deep voice made Robin jump as badly as it could, and her heart almost jumped out of her chest in return. Nobody had spoken to her in over seven hours, since she'd left the greenhouse, and she honestly hadn't been prepared for it now. Her head whipped around to see him standing to her right, and he motioned to the space next to her on the bench.

"Of course!" She managed to say, while her heartbeat slowly returned to the normal pace it had around him. Still too fast.

"You have been sitting here alone all evening." He remarked as he sat down at an appropriate distance, overlooking the room ahead just like Robin did. "I had not deemed it possible for anyone to be more miserable at this event than I am myself… then however I saw you."

Robin let out a humored huff in return. "Yeah, well, I can't say I'm having a ball."

"Funny." He replied in the most unimpressed tone, and Robin actually had to snort and then smile for real. As she glanced over to Snape next to her, there was absolutely no denying that he was at least somewhat humored as well. Her smile broadened.

"To be honest, I've been waiting for it to be an acceptable time to leave." She sighed and turned back towards the crowds on the other side of the room. "I'm feeling out of place."

"You certainly look out of place." His tone was unusually quiet, and followed by a small pause before he continued. "I would like to apologise."

"Apologise?" Robin turned to look at him with a surprised frown. "Whatever for?"

"Asking you to attend this event. I was under the impression that a night like this would be preferable to the last two new year's eves."

"Preferable for whom?"

"You, obviously."

"I was quite content in the last two years, actually." Robin shrugged with a small smile. "I'd even go as far as to say I was truly happy."

"I am sorry for asking you to come here tonight." He said instead of giving a direct response to what Robin had said, but she could tell he hadn't ignored it either.

"I'm not." She replied with another smile, one that hopefully was somewhat encouraging. "I mean yeah, I'm quite miserable, but you don't seem to be enjoying yourself either. With me attending this stupid event, you at least don't have to be miserable on your own."

"What if I would prefer to be miserable on my own?" Snape asked in a way that made it absolutely clear to Robin that he was merely trying to mess with her, and she had to smirk at his badly feigned scowl in return. He was insufferable, but actually pretty funny once one understood his humor, and the fact that he was replying with humor to her almost affectionate statement in the first place made her heart soar more than she could've guessed.

"Well, if you don't appreciate my company, you could always get up and leave." She stated with an innocent smile, and a tiny bit of fear that he might actually do just that.

"I could indeed." He replied, but stayed sitting right where he was, in calm observation of the hall ahead.

Robin couldn't keep the smile off her face as she followed his example and let her eyes travel over the dancing crowd as well. Sometimes one simply had to listen to what Snape didn't say in order to understand what he was trying to say. Why she enjoyed it so much though, that he wasn't ever making anything easy, she didn't know. But she didn't mind at all.

For the next hour they remained sitting next to each other on the bench in the corner of the hall, silently observing the ball rather than participating in it, and nobody paid them any more attention than an occasional passing glance. Robin could have laughed at how much more at ease she felt with him right next to her, and she had the vague idea that Snape knew that at least, if he did not even feel the same. He literally had no reason to sit with her other than either for her comfort or his own, and she appreciated that beyond measure.

"It will be midnight in thirty minutes." He finally spoke up after all this time without a word. "Which means there likely will be a significant rise in clamour very soon."

"Oh please no…" Robin groaned in return and briefly wondered if she should just retreat to her room already. But… would anyone at all be wishing the man next to her a happy new year if she was gone? The likeliness that 'no' was the answer to that question was heartbreaking enough, and Robin decided that she didn't want to find out. With a determined expression she rose to her feet. "Let's go then."

"What, pray tell, do you think you are doing?" He inquired while yet he got up as well and followed her through the room towards the doors, and Robin couldn't help the internal victory dance that followed upon his compliance.

"Getting away from the idiots before they go mad entirely. I thought you might appreciate that as well." She replied easily as they left the great hall behind and crossed through the wide hallway, heading towards the courtyard. As soon as they stepped out of the castle and into the arcades, Robin reduced her pace significantly and took a deep breath of fresh air. It was terribly cold without a jacket, but it was quiet and peaceful and that made it just perfect nonetheless. In more of a saunter, she continued walking to her preferred arch, then turned to look at Snape next to her. She hadn't exactly expected him to come with her so easily, but she also wasn't surprised. With a neutral if not yet again enigmatic expression, he walked past Robin to stand in his own arch a few steps to her right, and then turned to look out into the darkness beyond the castle.

"I would choose this over a ball and a crowd any time." Robin smiled to herself as she observed him for a short moment, then peered out into the night through her own arch as well. "I'd like to think that this is my very own new year's tradition. Being out here with the night and the silence… and you."

"I agree." He mused in return, and Robin closed her eyes with a silent sigh to simply let herself enjoy the moment. "While I generally do not care for traditions, I have to admit that I am rather fond of this particular one."

"You are more than welcome to share it." Robin smiled, and opened her eyes once more. It hadn't snowed this year, but the wind was biting nonetheless and she observed how it swayed the trees in the distance. "It's odd how far one can see from here, even in the dark. I believe I have only ever looked towards the courtyard before, never out in this direction at night."

"The view from the wooden bridge is even better. If one isn't too distracted by the height, the sight you have in the dark is quite worth it."

"Well… if the tradition only entails you and me and the night, maybe… we could go there next new year's." Robin suggested before she could come up with a good enough reason not to.

"Maybe we should indeed."

When silence took over, it carried along the calm comfort Robin had been hoping to find out here. The cold covered her skin in goosebumps, and the wind blew loose strands of hair into her face, but Robin was unshakably happy right where she was. She was in one of her favorite places in the school, at her favorite time of day, with her favorite person.

The noise from Hogsmeade reached them almost at the same time as the noise from inside the castle, and Robin took one last deep breath of calm before the silence would pass entirely. It was moments like this when life was beautiful and cruel at once.

"Happy new year." He was first to say it, and Robin moved out of her arch to stand next to him a second later. "If there even is such a thing at Hogwarts."

"Happy new year to you too." She returned with a sincere smile. "And I think besides the boggart, and Morgan, and my classmates, and almost dying, and attacking you with kitchen tools… the last year was actually quite successful."

"Peculiar take on reality, but I do admire your optimism."

Robin laughed at that and looked down at the ground for a moment before facing him again. "Well, at least I'm certain that whatever the year brings, it will not be boring either way."

"On that we can agree." He replied with a not-smirk, and Robin returned a real one as he added, "Do you plan on returning to the ball?"

"Not if it can be prevented." She scoffed at the mere thought of going back in there now. "If this is supposed to be a happy new year indeed, I won't set another foot into the great hall tonight."

"Does coffee and a conversation about inventing potions sound more appealing to you?"

"Now that would be a way to start the year off right." Robin grinned in return, and couldn't even be bothered to hide her excitement at the prospect. "Lead the way, professor."

"I regret making that suggestion already." He sighed with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes, but looked undoubtedly humored as they made their way back into the castle and towards the dungeons.

"Yeah, sure…" Robin snorted in amusement. "Does that mean I'll be making coffee first, then?"

"Obviously."

______________________________

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[ot5ismyhome]

2. Falling

To read from the beginning click here.

*****

Wanda woke up from her sleep screaming. She looked around her trying to figure out where she was. Slowly the reality set in. She cradled her head on her knees and started crying. She had dreamed of Pietro dying again. The pain was raw and powerful. Every time the pain felt like it was the first time. Every night she dreams of him dying in different ways. But always one thing was the same. She would be standing a few feet away. Not able to do anything. Useless. Her bedroom door opened and Steve walked in. He would always come when she woke up screaming. He sat near her and put an arm around her. She leaned into his touch on instinct. He held her as she cried. He never asked any questions. She sobbed uncontrollably till her eyes ran dry. She wanted to spend the whole day curled up in bed. She didn’t want to do anything.

Wanda had lost the will to care about many things in her life. Throughout her life, she and Pietro had been together. It had always been them against the world. Now she stands alone. She didn’t know who she was. They had always been ‘we’ and now suddenly she lost it. She felt she never knew the meaning of ‘I’. She didn’t know how to process that. She didn’t know how to accept that. She had lost a part of herself and nothing could make her whole again. She desperately wished for a second chance. If she could only travel back in time. Or if only this was a nightmare, she would wake up any minute now.

The passing of time didn’t bring any solace to Wanda’s situation. It’s been a month and there was no end to nightmares. Her abandoned phone lying on the night table caught her attention. She plugged into charge and switched it on. As soon as she opened her, the wallpaper of her and her brother filled the screen. She went through the gallery. It was filled with photos of her and Pietro. She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed. She, Pietro and Thompson regularly visited various bars. She lingered over the photo taken at Steve’s party. Her eyes started stinging. She kept scrolling and stopped at the photo they had taken two years back on their birthday. The twins had thrown a small party and invited their friends to Jupiter Disco. Something struck inside her as she pulled on a simple outfit and made her way out into the city. The cold evening wind stroked her bare face adding a red blush to her cheeks and neck.

Wanda entered the bar and looked around. She had no idea what made her do it but she went along. She perched on the bar stool and ordered a drink. She ordered drinks after drinks and drowned it. She didn’t know how much she had been drinking but the alcohol wasn’t bringing any solace. She wanted to relive the happy memories but her alcohol meddled brain felt numb. She wanted to feel Pietro’s presence. She wanted to be engulfed in his hug and feel safe. She wanted to hold him back and protect him. Her eyes started watering; she pressed back her tears and drowned her drink. When the bartender cut off her drink and replaced it with water, she wanted to shout at him. She got up from her bar stool but stumbled down.

Wanda woke up the next day, her head throbbing in pain. She saw a jug of water by her bedside table. She poured herself a glass and drowned it. She swallowed an aspirin with water. She made her way to the living room. It was deserted. Steve would have left for the company she thought. She went into the kitchen. She wanted to resist it but huger overcame her. She hadn’t eaten well for the past week. She went through the fridge looking for something to eat. She saw a sticky note saying ‘Breakfast. Please eat’ on the top of a covered bowl. Wanda opened it to see berry salad. She devoured the food, not minding to chew.

Having no memory of the previous night didn’t bother her much like it should have. She spent the day lounging on the couch flipping through various channels not interested in anything. She fell asleep on the couch only to wake up in the late evening. The house was plunged into darkness. She didn’t mind turning on the light as she went to her room. She pulled the first dress she could reach from her closet and changed. She locked the door on the way out and went to Jupiter Disco again.

…..

Steve smelled the alcohol as soon as he entered the house. He found Wanda crying in Pietro’s room, hugging his shirt. He thought to talk to her about her new addiction to prevent it from growing but seeing the broken trembling figure in front of him he couldn’t bring himself. He was glad that she had found her way home instead of passing out in the bar like the day before. His heart pained when he saw Wanda in that state. He decided to talk to her the next day. But Steve became caught up in work in his office and was spending less time with Wanda. Her trips to the bar continued as she paid no heed to his words.

Steve got a call to pick up Wanda from the same bar. This time she was conscious and waiting for him. Seeing him she stumbled towards him, but was steadied by the woman next to her. She had blonde hair and a strand was coloured purple. Her eyes shone bright, showing that she was sober. She steadied Wanda and helped her walk.

“Steeeeeve, you came” Wanda drawled.

“Yeah, kid. Now let’s get in the car. Let’s go home” he said softly. He turned to the new woman and offered her thanks. He opened the door to the passenger seat to let Wanda in. As she was going to step in, she was stopped by the other woman.

Steve looked at her quizzically, trying to understand what is happening.

“I could only let her go, if you prove you’re her friend” she said sternly.

Steve took out his licence and extended it towards the woman. “You can check her phone; I will be in her emergency contacts” he offered.

The woman gave a nod and returned it. “I know. I was the one who called. Just wanted to make sure, she will be okay.”

Steve gave a small nod as he helped Wanda into the car. Wanda was almost passed out when he tried to talk, so he let it slide again. It had been about three months since Pietro’s death. Wanda was falling into the pit of alcoholism and Steve wasn’t able to stop her. It pained him to see her waste her life away. He had tried to talk to her multiple times about therapy but she always shuts him down.

…..

As Steve came out of the café with Bucky, he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

After parting ways with Bucky in the café, Steve drove home. On his way he got a message from Koenig that the manager of Jupiter Disco called. Steve arrived at the bar to see Wanted sitting in the side walk staring into the distance. The security was eyeing her warily. Seeing Steve, she jumped to her feet but lost her balance and collapsed down. She started laughing and didn’t try to move from the road. He quickly picked her up and supported her.

The manager came out and walked directly to Steve.

“Mr. Roger, I didn’t expect you to come in person,” he said sounding surprised.

“What’s the issue?”

The manager filled in on the happening. When the bartender had cut off her alcohol, Wanda had put on a fight. She had tried to punch him and grab the bottle from his hand. They had called the security to escort her out. Having discovered, she worked at The Roger’s Innovative, the manager had decided to give Steve a call before involving the police.

Steve’s anger grew with each passing second. He couldn’t believe that Wanda had gone to this extent and he partly blamed himself. He said to the manager that he will handle the situation. As soon as they got in the car, he wanted to shout at her instead he bit his tongue. He waited a few minutes to calm down.

“Wanda” he called her. His voice was neutral showing no emotion.

Wanda ignored him staring out of the window.

“Please don’t ignore me. I want you to listen to me” he said a bit firmly. She turned to look at him. Her eyes showed she was indifferent to his words.

Steve tried to push his luck to make her see the mess she was right now. He tried to talk sense into her but it was to no avail. She ignored him other than the occasional glances she threw in his direction. When they arrived at her apartment, she got out and quickly made her way upstairs. Steve wasn’t ready to give up so he followed her.

“Are you going to respond something?” he asked as he closed the apartment door. He tried to hide the annoyance in his words but it was slowly creeping in.

Wanda who had been silent the whole ride, broke down. She let her anger get the better of her. His pestering throughout the ride had been annoying enough. She hoped he would leave her alone once they arrived at her home.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? I DON’T THINK THERE IS ANYTHING TO TALK STEVE. YOU ASKED TO GO OUT AND LIVE MY LIFE. I AM DOING THAT. I AM HAVING FUN. IF YOU WANT TO STOP ME YOU CAN AS WELL TRY BUT I AM NOT LISTENING TO YOU”

“I’m telling you for your own good. You need therapy.”

“MY OWN GOOD? DON’T YOU FUCKING ACT LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT ME. I’M NOT READY TO ACCEPT THAT LIE FOR EVEN FOR ONE MORE SECOND. YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT ME. YOU DIDN’T CARE ABOUT PIETRO. YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT US. IF YOU HAD CARED ENOUGH YOU WOULDN’T HAVE LET HIM DIE. HE DIED BECAUSE HE TRIED TO SAVE YOU. IT WAS YOU WHO SHOULD BE DEAD. NOT HIM. Not him” she whispered the last part again as she sank to her knees.

Every word out of Wanda’s mouth stung Steve like million needles striking his body at once. He would be lying if he hadn’t blamed himself for Pietro’s death. He had come to accept that it was out of his control and he wasn’t responsible for the kid’s death. But her words still hurt him.

Steve softly rested his hand on her shoulder to console her.

“Don't,” she said curtly, jerking away. She got up and went to Pietro’s room and locked herself in. Steve decided to not follow her and give her some space.

*****

Chapter 3

[mca-attack21]

After

A/N: This is the second part of Too Late. 

Peter went back to the tower and received the needed medical attention. His aunt would show up and be so relieved that he was in one piece. She would hold him as he cried and tell him that everything would be okay while silently cursing the world for being so cruel to the young boy who deserved a break. After a while, she would have to leave with Happy to start sorting everything out. Other Avengers would come in and offer Peter their condolences, promising that they would be there for him if he needed anything. Tony practically moved into Peter’s room, not wanting to leave him alone. The worst part came when Y/n’s mother showed up. He expected her to scream at him for killing her daughter. But instead, she just told him how relieved she was that he was okay. She cried, he cried, she explained to him that the funeral would be held a week later and asked that he speak if he was up for it. She reminded him of how much you loved him and told him that he could come by any time. 

Two days later he went back to his Aunt’s apartment. Everywhere he looked he saw you, memories flashing. He remembered the countless movie marathons (and maybe make-out sessions) on the couch. He remembered disasters in the kitchen and the flour fight you had when he discovered you trying to bake his birthday cake last year. He remembered chasing you through the halls, both of you laughing, him kissing you when he caught you in his arms. He slowly made it up to his room trying to keep it together. But, that was honestly pointless. As he opened the door, he saw the multiple shirts he had tried on before your date sprawled across his bed. He pushed them on to the ground and laid down just wanting everything to stop for a minute. But his mind refused him such pleasantries.

Instead, he thought about the nights you had spent studying together. The time that you had discovered he was Spider-Man. He replayed multiple conversations the two of you had had. He remembered the day he asked you out, your first date, the times he went to your house after a particularly bad night whether it was to be patched up or just to talk. His mind continued on like that until he eventually drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Aunt May came in and brought Peter breakfast which he hardly touched. She sighed as she was at a loss for what to do. He stayed in his room all day, only getting up to use the restroom. He just wanted to be left alone and she tried to respect that, no matter how hard it was to watch him push her away again.

After two more days of refusing visitors and ignoring the outside world, Peter’s aunt informed him that your mother had called and asked him to stop by. He honestly didn’t want to, but he figured he owed her that much. So he forced himself to shower and get dressed. He then proceeded to walk the too familiar path to your apartment, which again was accompanied by various memories that caused his chest to hurt. He didn’t know how he was supposed to do this. He eventually made it outside your door, thinking about the first time he kissed you, right there in that hallway. He hesitated, and finally knocked softly.

Your mom answered and Peter could see how upset she was, not that anyone could blame her. She invited him to come inside and take a seat on the couch. He still didn’t know exactly why he was here.

“I went today to get her stuff- from the car. This- I think it belongs to you,” she said handing him the small ring box with the promise ring he planned on giving you that night. As he took it, his eyes closed as he tried not to cry again, not in front of your mom. She too was on the verge of tears as he pulled something else out of the bag. “Th-this was in the trunk, it was her anniversary gift for you, she’d been working on it for weeks,” she said taking a deep breath and handing it to him. It was very neatly packaged in blue wrapping paper with a red ribbon. He turned it over in his hands.

Noticing his hesitation, your mother reassured him that he didn’t have to open it now. He just stared at it. 

“Can I get you anything, Peter? Maybe something to drink? Or to eat? People keep dropping off casseroles,”

“I’m good, thanks,” he replied clearing his thoughts.

“You can go up to her room if you want, I like to go in there. It makes me feel closer to her,” she added.

“Yeah, I think I might do that.”

He absentmindedly walked up to your room. It looked exactly the same as it had when he had last seen it. He looked over your photo wall, glancing through the pictures mostly of the two of you. You were smiling and/or laughing in 99% of them. Seeing them brought a smile to his face. He walked around the rest of your room thinking about the time the two of you had spent together there. He took in your familiar scent and felt if only for a moment at peace. 

After a while, he made his way back downstairs. He thanked your mom and told her to reach out if she needed anything. She asked him if he planned on saying anything at your funeral on Saturday and he told her that he would. Though to be honest he had forgotten that that was even a thing. Not the funeral, just the speaking part. He would have to start thinking about it.

When he returned to his apartment, he wasn’t entirely surprised to find one of Tony’s cars was parked around the corner.

“Hey kiddo, how are you doing?” Tony asked as Peter entered.

“As well as can be expected,” he replied setting down the boxes from your house before sitting across from Tony.

“I wanted to check-in, and bring you this,” he said handing him a small shoebox,”

Peter was confused, to say the least. “Mr. Stark you didn’t have to get me anything,”

“I didn’t, it’s from Y/n. She gave it to me a few months ago, made me promise to hold on to it just in case something ever happened,” he explained waiting to see how Peter was going to react.

“She’s unbelievable,” Peter chuckled, the stopped was he thought. 

“Have you eaten anything today?” Tony asked most likely at Aunt May’s request.

“Not really, but I’m fine,” 

“Are you sure, I can have Happy can go pick something up and bring it by, he’s been worried about you,”

“I’m good, thanks though”

“Peter I’m sorry, I can’t imagine how hard all of this is for you, especially right now. You know that I and everyone else are here for you. If there is anything that any of us can do, all you have to do is say the word and we’re here.”

“I know Mr. Stark, thank you,”

“Okay kid, I’m going to give you some space so you can open that -when you’re ready. Make sure you eat something, if not for you, do it for your aunt who’s worried about you. Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, I’ll see you Saturday.”

“See you Saturday,” Peter mumbled before taking the three boxes upstairs to his room. 

He sat and stared at the anniversary gift and the apparent contingency plan. He debated which one to open first or whether he wanted to open either of them. Okay, that was stupid, obviously, he was going to open them. It was just a matter of when and in which order. After some thought, he made up his mind and picked up the blue box unwrapping it carefully. Inside, was a scrapbook. It had pictures from kindergarten to the present, but that wasn’t all that it had. It also contained some of your artwork and small memorabilia. For example, there were tickets from various movies, the receipt from your first date, the ribbon from the science fair the two of you won, and other things that Peter had absolutely no idea that you kept. His favorite part though was your handwritten additions. Small notes, song lyrics, quotes, and memories that you used to embellish the pages. You had narrated the entire story and it was beautiful. He spent hours going through it carefully, not wanting to miss anything.

When he finished, he put it back in the box and set it aside. He debated whether he wanted to also open the shoebox tonight as he had just been on an emotional roller-coaster. He hesitantly pulled it closer to him and pulled off the lid. There was a note on top which he read first.

Dear Peter, 

I hope that this note never has to be read. However, it needs to exist. So, here we go I guess. In this box, you will find two things, first a Funko Pop! and secondly a flash drive with a video that I recorded for you. 

The Funko Pop! is Kylo Ren. And you may be asking yourself why out of every character in existence, I would choose him. So here’s my reasoning: 1. You love Star Wars 2. I’m guessing that the world seems a little darker than normal right now, so I figured that he could serve as a reminder that no matter how far into the “dark side” you go that there is always redemption and light.

I love you Peter Benjamin Parker.

Forever and Always,

Y/f/n Y/l/n 

Peter took out the Funko Pop! And set it on his desk as he retrieved his laptop and queued up the video. He tried to mentally prepare himself for it, but it was no use.

Hi Peter,

So if you are seeing this something happened to me. I don’t know whether it was Spider-Man related or not. I guess it really doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you not to blame yourself. And believe me, I know you well enough to know that you will try to. Even if I live to be 102 and die peacefully in my sleep of natural causes you’d still be looking for a way to blame yourself. That’s kinda your thing, putting the weight of the world on your shoulders. Anyways, no matter what happened, it wasn’t your fault. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I agreed to be your friend, partner in crime, and your girlfriend.

You are so good Peter. You are truly a breath of fresh air. While others actively ignore the pain and suffering in the world, you go out of your way to make a difference. You protect those who can’t protect themselves and you never expect anything in return. Your life has presented you with so many challenges and so many reasons to turn cold, but instead, they made you kind.

Please keep fighting. Don’t lose hope, find something that inspires you, and use it to make you better. Make the most of every minute because life is unpredictable, beautiful, and ephemeral. That’s kinda the whole point isn’t it?

I could keep talking to you for hours, but at the same time, I feel like there isn’t much more to be said.

I love you Peter, and I know that you will get through this. I believe in you and know that you will do great things in life. There is nothing that you can’t do if you put your mind to it. Keep fighting the good fight. Or should I say keep swinging the good swing. Maybe I should go for, ‘May the Force be with you’? Hopefully that made you laugh or at least smile. God, your smile can save lives. So I feel that it is my personal duty right here and now to remind you to smile everyday. More importantly be the reason someone else smiles.

The world can be dark and scary and cruel. But there is so much beauty and goodness. You just have to seek it out. I wish you the absolute best this world has to offer. I love you, always and forever.  

Oh by the way, just in case there is any doubt, I am totally okay with you move on. In fact I want you to. Find a girl that makes you happy, who makes you more, and then allow yourself to enjoy it. Absolutely under no circumstance do I want you to use me as an excuse to stop living. 

Stay Gold Spider-Man.

And with that, the camera clicked off and the video ended. Peter replayed it again, taking in your voice and smile. This whole thing felt so surreal, like a bad dream that he had simply yet to wake from. That video though, it was something he hadn’t realized that he needed until he had seen it. It was like the fog was beginning to clear and he knew that everything would be okay.

When he woke up, he ate half of his lunch, which satisfied Aunt May. He then sat at his desk to do the impossible task before him. He had to figure out what it was that he wanted to say at your funeral the next day. He must have written and deleted at least 10 speeches. Nothing was good enough. It needed to be perfect. He would sit there in front of that computer for hours. When he finished, he was entirely shocked to see that it was after 2 am. 

May woke him up so that he had plenty of time to get ready for the service. The drive there was silent and Peter was thinking over his speech. When he arrived, Tony came to greet him. He wasn’t surprised to see many of the avengers in attendance. You were always with him at the tower and had become close to several of them. The service was short and sweet, your mom spoke, and then she asked for him to come up and say a few words. 

It was in the moment that he reached the podium that he decided to entirely disregard his speech. And instead, speak from his heart. 

“From the time I was a little kid, I always wanted to be one of the avengers. I wanted to have superpowers and make the world a better place. Y/n taught me that you don’t have to have powers to change the world. You just have to make a choice to be kind and do the right thing. She was one of the bravest and most beautiful people I have ever met. She always saw the best in people and went out of her way to make a difference in the lives of others. She radiated kindness, and inspired those who knew her. She always was there for me and never gave up on me. She taught me how to find the good in everything. She was the love of my life, my best friend, and my hero. She taught me how to become something more than I ever thought I could be. She saved my life in more ways than one and I will carry her with me every day of my life.” he finished quickly returning to his seat.

After that, you were buried and everyone went their separate ways. The following Monday, Peter finally went back to school. It wasn’t easy, but he had to start somewhere. It would take him three more days before he was able to put the Spider-Man suit back on. From there, he took it day by day. Some were harder than others, but he persisted. He walked at graduation and then swung by your grave to talk to you about his future plans. He was sure that you were proud of him. He spent most of his summer in the Avengers tower with Tony. In the fall, he’d be attending college. And from there who knew what would happen. But whatever life threw at him, he would remember to seek out the good and to do kindness recklessly as you had taught him.

[alj4890]

Delicate

(Olivia Nevarkis x Ethan Ramsey) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crossover crack series.

A/N The story continues with their first date. Ethan remembers a night where he was ready to admit that he was attracted to Olivia. And during another date, Olivia gets a surprise from Cordonia. 

@jooous​ @krsnlove​ @nomadics-stuff​  @twinkleallnight​ @motorcitymademadame​

Masterlist

Part 2

Bistro Du Midi, Boston...

Ethan couldn't recall the last time he enjoyed a meal more than he was this one with Olivia. Though they had shared a number of meals the last few months at the hospital, something about this one seemed, well, more.

He knew it had to be because he had been honest with her in what he wanted. And surprisingly, she wanted the same.

A chance to be together.

While she was relating a story from one of her adventures with her friends in Cordonia, he studied her closely. Her red hair was down, making he yearn to run his fingers through it. Her emerald eyes lacked the suspicious edge he had witnessed directed at people she didn't know well. He loved that he had watched it slowly fade with each coffee date they had.

They were dates, he thought to himself. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I went from using them to find out her true mission for the hospital to wanting to discover everything I could about her. Be near her. Have her undivided attention.

He prided himself on not simply falling for a pretty face.

Olivia is gorgeous.

He required more from people, like intelligence and steadfastness.

She is as sharp as those daggers she always has on her. Her ability to understand the complexities of not only medicine but also the trials I face both personally and professionally have left me astounded. For an outsider to step up and face my personal demons head on, without flinching, without wavering...how did I not notice it sooner?

************

The Royal Palace, Cordonia...

Drake paused on the way to his chambers when he overheard Riley say Olivia's name.

"Hana said that Olivia is wearing one of the dresses for her date tonight."

"So the suspicions you all have had are true?" Drake could hear the teasing in Liam's tone. "She and Dr. Ramsey have fallen for one another?"

"Working together allowed them to discover that there are some sparks worth exploring." Riley giggled. "I can't wait to meet him."

"If Olivia agreed to a date then it must be serious." Liam mused. "She wouldn't risk losing him to head the research hospital."

"You're right!" Riley exclaimed. "I thought Hana was joking about drawing up possible wedding gowns for Liv. No wonder she is looking ahead."

Drake staggered back.

This is why Maxwell suggested I go to Boston. He must have overheard Riley and Hana's conversation.

He headed to his room. He had some decisions to make.

*****************

Boston Opera House...

"Interesting choice." Olivia whispered as she read the title Turnadot on the program.

Ethan chuckled as he settled his arm along the back of her chair. "I thought you might think so."

She shook her head as a smile played about her lips. "I hope you aren't about to say that I'm anything like Turnadot."

"A cold woman who enjoys making men suffer with riddles, torture, and death until finally the right man comes along?" He winked at her. "Not at all."

She laughed softly, enjoying the lightheartedness she felt around him.

His fingers brushed her shoulder as he toyed with a lock of her hair. He found his attention couldn't remain on the opera. Seeing the contentment on his date's face held him captivated.

Ethan thought of the other times he had been unable to focus on anything other than her. There had been a few where her guard had dropped and he had seen a new side of the fiery duchess. One night in particular had caused him to realize his feelings for her had changed.

And he knew that it must have for her too...

**************

Two months ago, Edenbrook...

Olivia Nevarkis, report to the E.R. immediately.

"What on earth?" Olivia paused mid step on her way out of the lobby.

Why is someone paging me to the emergency room?

After two months at Edenbrook, she had learned every shortcut and exit.

Getting to the E. R. Was not a problem. Being called there like a member of the medical staff was the real mystery.

She scanned her I.D. and paused at the pandemonium that had erupted.

Her eyes immediately found Ethan at the center of the chaos as he gave orders to the ones working the graveyard shift.

She had never seen him in this type of situation before. Most of their time was spent walking down hallways or sitting in his office discussing aspects that she should present to Liam and the council with building a research hospital.

This was eye opening.

He's...he's impressive.

His blue eyes settled on her.

"Olivia, follow me." He ordered.

She quirked an eyebrow at not only his command but that he didn't bother checking to see if she was following him.

If she didn't know better, she would mistake him for a noble.

She hurried to catch up to him.

"What's happened?" She asked.

"There was a wreck on I-95." He explained. "Multiple cars involved."

Her brow furrowed with concern at the thought of using her nursing skills. "Are you shorthanded? Is that why you paged me?"

"In a way." He paused outside of a closed off section of the E. R. "I need you to sit with a child around five or six years old."

"What?" She blinked in surprise.

"Her parents were severely injured." He lowered his voice. "Both are in emergency surgery as we speak."

Olivia swallowed, averting her eyes. "I--I don't really have that much experience dealing--"

"Look around, Olivia." He motioned with his hand. "There is no one else right now."

She briefly closed her eyes. "Very well. Is she hurt?"

There was a  warm look of approval in his eyes that sent an unexpected fluttering in her stomach.

"Broken arm." He replied.

Olivia opened the door and preceded him.

She felt a jolt of déjà vu.

There sitting on the bed was a little girl with red hair.

Tears were running down her cheeks as she looked up at them.

"Kylie, this is Olivia." Ethan's deep voice was warm and friendly. "She is going to sit with you until your grandparents get here."

"What about Mommy and Daddy?" She sniffed.

"They are being taken care of." He told her. "In fact, I'm going to go see how they are and come back here to tell you." He lifted her arm that had a purple cast around it. "I'll make sure and tell your mom you picked her favorite color."

Olivia quietly observed as he helped calm the little girl down. He even caused her to giggle when he handed her a stuffed bear he had bought at the gift shop.

If only I had had someone like him when my parents died. To be given that kind of comfort during such uncertainty...

But Kylie's parents weren't dead. Nor were they traitors to their country, Olivia thought grimly.

Ethan turned to leave, pausing once more to look at the duchess.

"Olivia?"

She lifted her eyes to his.

He studied her quietly and gave a brief smile. "I'll be back."

Once the door shut, Olivia sat down in a chair by the bed.

Not knowing what to say, she hoped Kylie would rest or speak first.

"You have pretty hair." The little girl said.

Olivia reached up self consciously to smooth her hair. "Thank you." Her lips curved in a smile. "So do you."

"My daddy has red hair too." Kylie told her. "But he says his isn't pretty like mine."

Olivia nodded, unsure if she should agree or not.

"Does your daddy have red hair?" Kylie asked.

"No." Olivia grimaced at her harsh tone. Why her parents still brought this out in her irked her to no end. "He had brown hair."

"Oh." Kylie tilted her head. "Does your mommy have red hair?"

"Yes." Olivia lowered her eyes. "I used to love to brush it for her."

"I do too!" Kylie beamed at her. "But mine has yellow hair."

Olivia's forced smile disappeared when Kylie began to softly cry again.

"I wish mommy was here."

The duchess quickly rose to her feet unsure how to quiet these tears.

"Is there anything I can get you?" Olivia looked about the stark room. "Something to drink or--"

"I want my mommy." Kylie wailed, rubbing her eyes with her good arm.

Olivia sat down on the bed, intending to pat her back in sympathy.

Kylie instead crawled into her lap and nestled her head under Olivia's chin.

Momentarily shocked by this, the duchess lifted her arms a few times before gently hugging the little girl.

She spoke softly to her, reassuring her that her mother wanted to be here just as much.

She smoothed the red locks of hair off the damp cheeks, and rested her own cheek against the little head.

This type of pain she was well acquainted with. How often had she cried that very sentence into the darkness of her bedroom in Lythikos, just to have it unanswered?

Olivia silently prayed that this little girl would not suffer a similar fate. 

Something within her seemed to soften, almost break. It was as if that part of her heart that she had smothered through years of hardness cracked anew with each little tremble of the child in her arms.

Tears pricked her eyes when Kylie snuggled closer. The need to be held was something Olivia had tried to ignore most of her life. Holding this scared, tiny girl brought that feeling back, nearly causing her to cry out with her own anguish.

Ethan paused at the window on his way back in the room. His hard gaze softened at the sight of the fiery tempered duchess holding a sick child as if she was somehow dear to her.

He had suspected that she might have a tender side. He had caught glimpses of it throughout her stay. But tonight, he was able to witness it in full form. He especially noticed them whenever it was just the two of them, usually when their conversations turned from the hospital to more personal memories.

The few brief remarks followed by the stark despair in her eyes each time parents were mentioned had led him to believe she had not had a happy childhood. If it was anything like his own, then Olivia was a remarkable woman.

His own heart twinge at the thought of being abandoned by his mother. For years he had ignored it, repeating to himself that he had not needed her. Was he not one of the most sought after diagnosticians in the world?

Everything he had accomplished he had done without a mother or the need of one. His hardened heart had kept him focused. Driven. He prided himself by not feeling emotions that he considered a weakness in his line of work.

But something about the sight of Olivia holding Kylie touched his numb heart. It wasn't so much the sweetness of the moment, but rather that long ago despair being awakened. It was almost as if he had found someone who could truly understand his anger and hurt he had kept buried all these years.

"Excuse us. Are you Dr. Ramsey?"

He turned toward an older couple. "Yes."

"We were called about our daughter and family being in a car wreck." The man said.

Ethan quickly explained the injuries of the family of three. He reassured them that it looked well for their daughter and son-in-law.

"They are both in recovery." He told them. "Their surgeons were pleased with how everything went."

"And our granddaughter?" The woman asked.

He opened the door for them. "Right in here."

"Kylie!" Her grandmother wiped her eyes, smiling as the little girl held her arms out to her.

Olivia set her back on her bed, and silently made her escape.

Ethan excused himself, promising to keep them updated, and chased after the duchess.

He caught up with her when she stepped outside.

"Olivia?" He reached out and touched her back in concern.

She was struggling to take deep breaths.

"What is it--" his arms closed around her when she pulled him close.

Her head rested on his chest, eyes shut tight, as she tried to calm down.

His arms tightened around her when hers slid around his waist.

Neither was sure how long they stood like that. Not a word was spoken as they gave each other the comfort they so often denied themselves through the years.

There was something different about being held in Ethan's arms compared to the few times Drake had briefly embraced her. Perhaps it was simply that this wasn't occurring doing the heat of passion like her former lover's had been. Something though about this felt more intimate than all those other times before.

Eventually, Olivia stepped back. Her reluctance wasn’t lost on Ethan. He let his hands move to grasp hers, keeping her near.

"I'm...sorry." She lowered her eyes from his perceptive blue ones. "I don't know what came over me."

"No need to apologize." He squeezed her hands. "I..." He swallowed and looked down. "I needed a moment like that too."

Her head jerked up, eyes searching his face for any sign that he was merely saying that to make her feel less foolish. When she saw nothing but his own vulnerability at being caught needing a hug too, she relaxed.

He cleared his throat. "It's late. Why don't you let me drive you home?"

"Thank you." She noticed that neither of them was willing to let go of the other.

Ethan forced his fingers to slip away from hers. "I'll meet you in the lobby."

She watched him walk towards a set of elevators. His confident stride seemed less so as he turned to look at her once more.

For some reason, she felt like he needed her to give him some form of encouragement. Her lips curved somewhat into a half smile.

His own flashed before he disappeared in the elevator.

***************

Ethan knew in that moment that he was ready to admit at least to himself that he was falling for Olivia. He had been reluctant to suggest a date, but all that changed when he noticed that she seemed happier whenever he invited her out for coffee or lunch. Her smile came more easily. Her eyes had that sparkle that made it hard to look away. 

She had made him excited at taking a chance to see where this could go.

Now he intended that this date was the first of many nights spent together.

***************

Olivia’s heart raced when they finally were at her apartment. Clearing her throat, she invited him inside.

There was nothing Ethan wanted more than to spend the night with her. But he wanted to do this right. He thought she deserved everything, including himself, at its best.

“I intend on taking things between us as they should be.” He pulled her close. “You have no idea how hard it is to not step inside and...” His lips captured hers in a heated kiss.

Olivia felt herself melting against him. Each brush of his tongue, the soft feel of his lips contrasted by the prickly sensation of his stubble, all of it was a heady mixture that made her desire more. She wanted all that he placed before her: a true romantic relationship.

He groaned when her hands moved up his chest as their lips crashed together for another kiss.

He lifted his head, softly smiling at the smile forming on her slightly swollen lips.  “Why don’t we plan on spending the weekend together?”

“I’d like that.” She gently caressed his cheek. 

“So would I.” He kissed her once more swearing to himself that this would be as far as he could push his restraint. 

“We’ll talk tomorrow.” He added as he let his arms slide away from her.

She nodded, feeling a bit dazed by the emotions she felt from his words and touch.

They parted, each surprisingly happier than they had been before.

***************

The following weekend...

“...and that was how Thomas knew I was the one.” Amanda finished, laughing at the soft groan coming from her husband. “You know it’s true.”

“Not even close.” He wrapped his arm around her. “And you know that’s true.”

Olivia rolled her eyes to hide how pleased she was to see one of her closest friends with someone who adored her. She settled next to Ethan after offering refills of wine. She felt a brief burst of delight when he draped his arm along the back of the loveseat. His fingers toyed with her red hair before dropping to her shoulder. She felt her cheeks heat up at finally finding a man not afraid to show her affection in front of others.

Something about this felt so foreign and yet at the same time, it felt right. This was a whole new experience, one she thought she could easily get used to.

The two couples had enjoyed dinner at Olivia’s apartment. Though Ethan was familiar with Amanda during her sporadic visits to assist Olivia in her preparing to move forward with the research hospital, this was the first time he had met her husband. Uncertain what type of man the famous director would be, he found a somewhat kindred spirit in the gruff man. Like Ethan, he had little patience for foolish people. He seemed to prefer avoiding large crowds and such. And just like the doctor, he seemed most content with a particular Cordonian lady.

“I still say we go sailing.” Olivia added when suggestions for the next day were bandied about. “It’s been ages since I have had a chance to get out on the water.”

“I haven’t been in a while either.” Ethan added.

“I wouldn’t mind relaxing among the waves.” Thomas remarked.

“I guess this means we’re going sailing.” Amanda teased.

“Good, I knew  I would wear you all down.” Olivia smirked as they all chuckled.

Right when she got up to get dessert, her door was knocked on.

Her brow furrowed as she went to answer it. 

Seeing the last two people she would ever expect to visit her in Boston caused her to lose all ability to speak.

Her lips parted, yet not a sound came out.

Maxwell nudged Drake.

Clearing his throat, he slowly smiled at her.

“Hey Liv. It’s been a long time.”

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled). 

To what extent would go to save someone else's life?

This prompt was always going to be difficult, but hey, I did manage to come up with an interesting solution to it... or, at least, that's why I'd like to think. I originally planned on having Naomi for "I Should Have Been Better" (as I told Doc multiple times, "what better character for it than Naomi?", but the guy is having the last laugh about this one now, that's for sure). Some soul out there will have recognized the title from somewhere and understood what we're heading for because, yes, this entire story was inspired by the fact I wanted to use this semi-obscure reference as a title. You'll see what I mean later. Anyway, this fic was pretty cool to write, even if, again, I suffer from writing too much build-up because I want to explore a universe I'm probably never going to touch ever again. This is starting to grow into a recurring issue with me, it'd seem. Oh well, if it inspires someone's work, then I'm all good with my penchant for copious amounts of worldbuilding.

Also, Alyssa and Naomi's relationship is wonderful and it's a shame I haven't written it before, what the fuck me.

---------

Androzani

Summary: When faced with the prospect of her newest companion's potential death, Naomi is ready to put everything on the line... even her life.

Fandom: Trauma Center/Team (fantasy AU)

Wordcount: 3K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo​

AO3 version available here.

---------

Her shoulders bear the weight of her losses – friends she had to leave behind, people whose death she couldn’t prevent, companions that never were – yet Naomi has kept moving, trying to shove her past behind her anywhere she walks, as if going through purgatory for eternity.

 Her reputation has preceded her for decades, by now: the woman dressed in black with silver hair like the pale moonlight, going from place to place. Nobody knows of her true intent, whether she sides with good or evil, with life or death until they discover she is a healer who was banished from her native region due to some sort of catastrophic event long forgotten by history.

How ironic is that someone whose roots got cut off by a guillotine is still alive and roaming this world when, surely, her supposed people have all died from illness, injury or natural causes by now: it has, after all, been a thousand years since the “Corpse Whisperer” got forced into exile over the supposed curse she bore, the curse which spread an illness she still doesn’t have an answer to over towns and villages until it just disappeared with her.

 On her travels, she met a lot of people, some of whom travelled with her for a time, some whom she barely got to know.

There was Nathan, a boy who had escaped from a doomsday cult. He was an eager companion, swearing he’d follow her until the end of the world would have she decided so, because she was the first friend he had ever gotten – he died saving her, rather than the other way around, when a spear plunged inside his chest and only came out when his blood had stopped flowing and his skin had turned to clay. She closed his eyes, buried him and marked the grave with white lilac, never to look back again.

There was Ivan, a man barely younger than her supposed age, who wanted to understand her and help her save people with his benevolent magic and overwhelmingly positive intentions. He fought hard against near-death situations, some where she had decided it was better to expect death than survival, but his optimism kept these people alive. She had tot leave him behind after he contracted a lethal disease and he couldn’t keep with her, leaving behind the bitter taste of failure, loneliness and uncertainty. She never went back to where their ways parted, afraid to know the inevitable answer as to his whereabouts.

There was Cassandra, a middle-aged woman with a stern face and an inexorable will. Despite all the hardships she had faced in her life, she had always stood back up, without even displaying any sort of pain. She had grown a reputation for her ruthless methods, being ostracized, and travelled with her so she could mend her ways and heal who she could with the apothecary knowledge she had been blessed with during her youth. She drank her own poison so she wouldn’t have to surrender in the face of certain defeat, plunging herself in an eternal sleep, while Naomi could only watch, wrists and ankles keeping her from acting, until these dissolved and she could avenge her fallen friend. Cassandra’s breath never went out, so Naomi made her a chamber hidden in a deep, dense forest in a hope that, someday, she’d find the antidote Cassandra had spilled on the ground.

There was Eglantine, a girl barely in her teens, who went to follow her because her parents had abandoned her and everybody else thought she was cursed because of her unusually pale skin, hair and eyes, thinking she was a stillborn animated by a malevolent spirit. Beneath her skin was an incredible potency, which she didn’t dare use until she needed to. Her short life ended in a tragic, senseless sacrifice when she rushed into battle and blocked an enemy’s way so Naomi could run away and “get out alive”, as she had screamed before taking an entire group of thieves with her to a certain death.  

There have been a lot of them, over the centuries, but none of them have been immortals like her. None of them have healing magic as powerful as hers, none of them can endure so much. All of them have promised her to stay with her until she could settle down again, none of them could ever hold these promises, and it’s fine to her: she’s used to involuntarily broken promises. She’s used to the feeble nature of humans, of the uncursed ones.

 She has grown more and more hesitant to accept new companions, over time. She tried to be cold towards them, to use her sombre reputation as a deterring agent – but some people are just in need of misery’s company, even her, and so they stick around until illness, injury, death, love or opportunity split them apart and the cycle continues. Naomi is used to it. She doesn’t even give her name to people anymore: it’s easier for both sides if these companions call them by whatever nickname the rumours about her convey.

The “Corpse Whisperer” is only one facet of her fictional identity, one of her many names and perhaps the least flattering. Over the years, she has accumulated them: “Cursed One”, “Black Healer”, “Reaping Doctor”, “Nameless Widow”, “Lady of the Last Sight”… Everywhere she’s gone, they’ve adopted a new name for her, to the point the name she was given at birth is nothing but lost to the sands of times, like numerous books she’s read, like the names of her fallen companions. So much things pass by your eyes when time doesn’t affect you anymore. Such is her curse, after all.

 Even with time, the wounds left by her losses never truly scar. Every death in which she’s had some amount of responsibility weight on her shoulders, even if as time passes, she starts to forget more and more the individuality of her former partners. And, the heavier the luggage gets, the darker she tries to be, the more reclusive she behaves, so someone else doesn’t have to get hurt while following her on her eternal quest to heal others and, maybe, just maybe, finally find the way to end her own life.

Still, despite how much she has cried and screamed already, death continues to affect her when she can see blood on her hands or a cold limb at her feet. Even recently, she got bit in the throat by the death of two parents who had crossed her ways in unfortunate circumstances and she came too late to save them. As they let out their last breath, she met eyes with a curious little girl’s green irises full of life, and that’s when she knew – Naomi would be traveling with someone else once more.

 Neither Alyssa nor she had a choice in the matter. The poor girl didn’t have any remaining relatives and the place where she lived was infested by werewolves, the same species that had killed her parents. Naomi couldn’t leave someone as young and frail as a ten-year-old girl suffer in the claws of the wolves on two legs that couldn’t control their animalistic urges. It quickly became her mission to redeem herself from letting two new persons die in front of her eyes by bringing Alyssa to a safe haven where she could have a normal life until Naomi herself found a solution to the lycanthropic problem.

However, and despite having guessed what happened, despite all of her tears and all of her pain, Alyssa has always told Naomi she didn’t hold anything against her, that she did her best when she tried to use her magic to bring back to life the recently deceased. Her smile, which at first was timid and more of a façade, has grown into an earnest one. Every time she sees it, it warms Naomi’s heart, but it reminds her head to remain cool and not to get attached because it’ll end badly for the both of them.

 For a while, it was fine to have Alyssa around. They mostly went from village to village, from city to city, and Naomi made sure her protégée wasn’t in contact with the filth and contagion of the sick. Healed bone after healed bone, cured sickness after cured sickness, Naomi found herself enjoying the light-hearted chatters of Alyssa, going from refusing to answer her various questions on the world and herself to replying to them with more and more details.

It was already too late, by that point, but Naomi still liked to believe Alyssa would one day leave on her own terms and her wounds just heal for once. After all, they were only travelling together because Alyssa needed a new home to grow up in and have a chance at a normal life after the atrocious had happened.

However, that delusion has come to an end, as she’s now forced to make the biggest choice in her life, one that could cost her everything. At long last, the taste of death and the melody of the epilogue come back to her, making her feel more alive than ever, but at what price?

 Alyssa has been poisoned with what she can only assume to have been a powerful, yet not instantly deadly substance. She missed catching its name when someone told her what was happening to Alyssa, what was causing her the rashes and the fever that keeps going up and up, but it reminds her of something – animantha toxaemia. A beautiful flower whose pollen has killed its fair share of humans, with no real cure known aside from a taxing healing spell, one forbidden not by choice, but by need.

Their meeting with the flower was unfortunate. Alyssa and she were on the run from some unforeseen adversaries and, once they had successfully lost them in the forest, Alyssa got curious about the deep purple beauty of the flower’s petals. Alyssa touched it when she inspected it before Naomi could remove the girl’s fingers from the stem and petals. Both are running away from death. Quite ironic, coming from the woman who was once nicknamed “the Silver Reaper”, but…  what matters isn’t her fate, it’s Alyssa’s.

 Naomi has managed to get them both out of the forest, but unfortunately, she’s starting to feel the paralysis effects of the flower in her legs, and that’s when she realizes she must have been in contact with a lethal dose of the flower’s poison. One thing the curse hasn’t protected her from is illnesses of this kind, and judging by the fever poor Alyssa has fallen victim to, she doesn’t count on staying alive much longer. She’d have expected herself to be pleasantly surprised by the prospect of finally passing away, since she has seen so much already, and roaming the Earth for about four centuries is starting to take a toll on her spirit – but she has never felt so alive, because danger is a powerful catalyser, and she has a life to save.

A final life, judging by what she needs to pay for what she’s about to do, but a worthy price to pay and perhaps the life that has mattered the most to her throughout her long, elongated life. She’s torn about having to leave Alyssa to her own devices, but they’re in a village, now, and Naomi hopes the inhabitants that took enough pity on them to lend them the small house they’re currently in will help her. She’s still young, barely fourteen, and she doesn’t want Alyssa to struggle again once she’s gone.

 There’s no time to question it, however. The toxaemia has four stages, the last being an inexorable rise of internal temperature until the affected person inevitably dies. However, she can’t let that happen, and she has to act quick, because getting the both of them back to a safer haven has taken so long that Alyssa is at least in the third stage and, again, judging from her temperature, is crossing into the last before… before the inevitable happens.

There are numerous times where she wanted to give her life to save another, but never got to do it because the other person died before her eyes before she ever could or because they did it first, leaving her alone again, most of them eternally unaware of her immortality. Now, however, she’s the one who has to do it, because Alyssa isn’t a mage like her, wasn’t born with the ability to cast spells, and she’s someone who deserves to live life at its fullest, unlike her.

Naomi has made her decision the moment she touched the flower and nothing is going to make her go back on her decision – aside from the idea to leave Alyssa alone, but the girl has made some friends in the village due to how kind she is, so at least, Naomi has some hope. If her companions have shown her something, it’s that there still are good people in this world, no matter how many atrocities she’s seen.

 Almost three centuries ago, she learnt spells that are now forbidden. One of them, whose original scroll has been burnt in an attempt to silence its deadly power, is the antidote to animantha poisoning. There may have been another way, hidden away in a forgotten script or still being conceived by some hermit mage or witch living in remote woods, but she doesn’t have the time to question it. All she can do, now, is apply the formula as she’s learnt it, hoping her spell memory has exceeded human standards. The curse should have at least given her that, if she was to become the Codex of Magic.

Her last name – the “Codex of Magic”, the true purpose of the curse inflicted on her so many years ago. How ironic, considering she’s lent all of the scripts she’s copied again in the bag she always carries with her, that she dies by the hands of one of the spells she was meant to preserve for prosperity. Even if she survives, she won’t be able to use the spell on herself afterwards in a timely manner, so she hopes Alyssa carries on her will. That’s all she wants.

 Ignoring the pain in her limbs and her own rising fever, Naomi gathers her powers in both palms of her hands, summoning all of her healing prowess for one last show. The spell calls for specific incantations, which flow out of her mouth as if she was born to say them at some point – something about summoning the power of hope itself, serving as its vessel for a miracle, giving up one’s life for the sake of another. The spell was named “Hope of the Unending Agape” for a reason, after all, and Naomi doesn’t have anything else to lose.

The amount and intensity of the mana running through her entire body is searing her from the inside as her hands carefully cradle Alyssa on the bed of the house, cupping the girl’s face as the mage hopes it will work as intended. Alyssa must survive, it’s all that matters, she doesn’t care about the price of it all, just give this girl her life back, don’t take her away from the mortal realm so soon, not when she has so much to see and discover, so much to live and smile at.

Hope can take her soul, she doesn’t care, but that flower won’t take away Alyssa’s, she swears on her life. One has lived for too long and the other is too young to pass away.

 This spell feels like inflicting agony on oneself, so her vision is starting to give in and so do most of her sense following it. She’s burning on the inside, either from the spell or from the toxaemia, but there’s no way for her to distinguish anymore. What she knows, however, is that Alyssa’s skin is cooling down and her tremors are fading away. This is more than a relief: she’ll survive. Alyssa will see another day and have the life she deserves, sunny and beautiful.

Little by little, frame by frame, Alyssa’s complexion regains its colour, the red stains on her cheeks disappearing. The sweat that was pearling on her skin fades away. Her frowned feature relax and give way to a peaceful expression, as if she had been sleeping all along. It’s a beautiful sight, really.

 However, the same can’t be said for Naomi, as a huff of platinum smoke escapes from her lips and she collapses in pain. She has exhausted every cell of her being, or so it feels like, and it’s up to the curse to see if she’s worth saving – she doubts it, because a curse is a curse, and being a benefactor for its host would go against its own nature.

It very much feels like she’s dying, at long last. Her vision is mostly black now, safe for a couple blurry shapes, and most of her senses have already given in: her hearing has been replaced with a sort of slightly disturbed silence, she can’t tell what she’s touching and the only taste in her mouth is that of copper and iron. All she can feel are the tears going down her cheeks and the relief that, at least, someone is getting out of this alive.

Despite technically meeting her end at the hands of a toxic flower, Naomi doesn’t see it this way: she views her demise as the ultimate act to save a life and, as such, doesn’t have the shadow of a regret. Sure, there may have been things she’d have wished to do before she’d die, and her survival is a very unlikely gambit on the curse acting up; but they don’t matter compare to the reasons why she did such a thing, why she took on someone’s deadly pain onto herself.

 The only thing she’ll be missing is the warmth of Alyssa’s voice…

  When Alyssa wakes up from something that was between a dream and a nightmare, which she can’t remember aside from the magnificent gaze of a solar goddess looking to her eyes, she quickly realizes what she saw in her sleep wasn’t a figment of her imagination – and immediately knows, upon touching long and slender lukewarm hands, she has a task to accomplish to pay back a life-changing favour.